Page 25

N iam reached across the bed to find cool sheets. The sun's first rays now peeked in the windows, adding to his heart's heaviness. Another day closer to his and Rufe’s parting.

He needed to return home. He’d brought soldiers to help Draylon defeat his corrupt father, but Emperor Soland had now died. Why had Niam dawdled instead of turning immediately back toward Delletina?

Oh, to negotiate the details of a treaty between Delletina and the Cormiran Empire. It had nothing to do with spending time in Rufe’s company. Nothing at all.

Hah. Niam had never been a convincing liar. The Rufe situation increased Niam’s worry. Since when had he put a lover before his people, his kingdom?

He sat on the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face, fingers catching on light stubble. If he'd been home, his manservant would have entered soon to prepare him for the day. Here, he’d have to rely on the valet his cousin Yarif had loaned him or take care of matters himself.

Would Rufe come too? When he’d been in Delletina before, he’d been recovering from injuries. He’d be a hated Cormiran in the eyes of many of Niam’s people. How much more hatred would he receive coming back in an official capacity? What if Niam couldn’t keep him safe?

He snorted. Imagine him trying to keep a career soldier safe—and not simply any soldier, but the commander of the Cormiran forces. Still, while Rufe might know the battlefield, he didn’t know the ruthless battles fought in ornate parlors.

Niam rose, donned a robe, and entered the tasteful but sparsely furnished antechamber, where maids had laid out a bath, clothes, and a light repast. He’d fill his belly, bathe, shave, then dress. After all, he wasn’t some coddled noble who must wait for a valet’s attention, even if he was a king.

He’d no sooner put the finishing touches on combing the tangles out of his copper curls when a knock sounded at the door. “Enter.”

A guard opened the door, followed by Yarif. “Good morning, King Niam.” Making their familial connection public knowledge wasn't safe until all negotiations between their two kingdoms concluded.

“Good morning, King Consort Yarif,” Niam said formally, waiting until the guard took up his station on the other side of the door to grin and sweep his cousin into a hug. Oh, how glorious to see his cousin after so many seasons apart, to witness the amazing person he’d grown into.

“Have you eaten?” Yarif asked. He’d dressed in a heavily embroidered green tunic, darker green trousers that hugged his lithe frame, and soft shoes, indicating he meant to stay indoors for a while.

“Yes, I’ve had a morning meal.” Niam waved a hand to indicate the table where crumbs adorned a plate. “Thank you.”

“I sent for more tea.”

The knock came with perfect timing, and a young maid swept in bearing a silver tea service.

She deposited her burden on a side table and curtseyed her way from the room, making sure the door latched behind her with a rattle of the handle, far more discreet than many maids might be with a visiting king in residence.

Yarif perched on a brocaded chair, pouring two cups of tea and adding sugar and cream to his.

Niam took the other chair, lifting his cup to his lips with a wink. “Be sure to include this wonderful tea in any trade negotiations.”

“Already noted.” Yarif took a sip and set his cup on a side table, a slight frown on his lips. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

Niam’s heart plunged to his stomach along with the tea. “What news? Have you received word from Delletina? Are the boys okay? Mother?”

“Yes, but Lord Whreyn has been spotted near the castle. Draylon is briefing Rufe.”

Whreyn. The slippery eel who’d made attempts on Draylon and Yarif’s lives still evaded capture and had taken advantage of Niam’s young cousin for information. “I need to go home immediately.”

Yarif’s short locks swept over his forehead with his nod. “Preparations are being made for you to leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” Niam couldn’t get home soon enough .

“Because of the threat, we have to provide additional security. Since most of the troops you brought with you have returned home and many Delletinians hate all things Cormiran, we’re sending Glendoran soldiers as your guard.

Glendor is a newer part of the empire and less despised than Cormira, correct? ”

Niam hated to admit the truth. “Yes.” He also hated to suggest, “Is Rufe staying here? He’s still recovering from his injuries.”

Yarif’s laugh held a light, musical quality. “Do you think he’d stay? Once he’s had time to think things over, he’ll be determined to protect you, and Draylon trusts him to do so. I’m also concerned about his healing, but Draylon assures me Rufe has survived far worse.”

The many scars on Rufe’s body bore testament to how much he’d endured. “I’m sure he has, but I didn’t know him then.”

Yarif smiled, lighting his delicate features. “I’m glad Rufe has found someone besides myself and Draylon to appreciate him and not listen to his rantings about being unworthy. Draylon wouldn’t tolerate him as a friend if he weren’t a decent man. And he’s renown for his use of a sword.”

“You’re pretty good with a blade, too, I’m told.” When not covered with welts and bruises.

Yarif winced, flexing his back where those welts still healed. “Yes, but not a broadsword. I prefer a rapier or daggers.”

“Daggers? Mother uses daggers and taught me a bit.”

“I believe our mothers learned from their father.” He smirked. “Draylon’s soldiers originally underestimated me, but not for long. ”

“I can only imagine. I wish my father had allowed me to train with the guards or learn more from my mother, then I wouldn’t feel so inadequate sometimes.” His father had looked down on the warrior kings of old and felt royalty didn’t need to know such skills. Oh, how wrong he’d been.

“You didn’t grow up in a kingdom poised for war at any moment. I wish you could stay here, as I’ve enjoyed having family around once more. Perhaps I could visit when you’ve calmed your troublesome nobles. I’d love to meet your boys and see Aunt Nera again.”

“Quillan and Uri would adore you and your siblings. I hope someday soon I can bring them for a visit.”

Despite the Delletinian people's hatred of most lowlanders, they would undoubtedly shower beautiful Yarif with attention. His kind heart had led many to believe him incapable of ruthlessness when required. They’d soon learned.

“I’ve enjoyed my visit and am glad we could help you and Draylon against the emperor, but I must go home. ” He’d been gone too long already.

“We appreciate your help.” Yarif caught his bottom lip between his teeth.

“What?”

Yarif stared imploringly at Niam with big blue eyes that likely brought Draylon to his knees in more ways than one. “You’ll be careful with Rufe, won’t you?”

“Careful? You said that he had sufficiently healed for the journey.” If he comes with me.

“Physically, yes, but he has the whole undeserved inferiority going on. He cares for you a good deal, I can tell, but…” Yarif sighed. “As king, what kind of relationship can you have? Would your people rebel at the thought? You know he’d walk away rather than put you in danger.”

“We’re simply enjoying each other’s company.” Another lie Niam told himself. If only he were free to love whomever he wanted.

A sly smile lifted the edges of Yarif’s lips. “Cousin, you really need to work on being a better liar. I don’t believe you’re even trying.”

Niam scrubbed his hands over his newly shaved face, staring at the tapestry of a child playing with a ball and trying not to think too hard. “Perhaps not. But for now, I need him. If that’s not what’s best for him, maybe he shouldn’t go with me.”

“I don’t think anyone or thing could stop him.” Yarif rested a gentle hand on Niam’s arm. “Just… be careful with his heart.”

Niam pictured one of Rufe’s heart-stopping smiles that might be his undoing.

It’s Rufe who needs to be careful with mine.

The day went by in a blur as Yarif and the servants helped Niam prepare for the journey north. Still, he took the time to spend a few moments alone with Rufe, walking along a garden path toward the stables, slowing his pace to accommodate Rufe’s limp.

“I have a surprise for you,” Niam said, taking Rufe’s hand when they passed out of sight of the castle, where no one but their trusted guards, Captain Casseign and Commander Vihaan, bore witness.

“In the stables?” Rufe’s expression of confusion wasn’t normal, but it was adorable. And he spoke Delletinian, warming Niam’s heart by working so hard to learn his language.

Niam fought a grin and continued in Delletinian. “You’ll see.” He dropped Rufe’s hand when they came into sight of the stables, where a lad held the reins of a beautiful ebony mule, her mane and tail nearly a match for Rufe’s curls, her well-brushed coat gleaming in the sun.

She wore a rather plain saddle, far less ornate than those on some nobles’ mounts. But, when traveling cross-country, a fancy saddle would betray a traveler's riches, while the mule's quality might go unnoticed when carrying rider and packs. He would spare no expense to keep Rufe safe.

“As you’ve learned, mules are much better in the mountains than horses, and I thought you might like one of your own.” Niam stepped forward and stroked the mule’s velvet nose, avoiding the expression on Rufe's face. He couldn’t bear seeing disdain.

Rufe laughed, a joyful sound to lift a lover’s soul. “She’s gorgeous! And she’s mine?”

Heat filled Niam’s cheeks, while his tension lessened. “You need her. I understand you have a horse stabled here, but Princess will be much more versatile in the mountains.” No use admitting to taking any excuse to present a gift.

“Princess?” Rufe ran a tentative hand over the mule’s nose, eyes alight and full lips upturned in a smile.

What a relief. “Yes. Apparently, Yarif’s friend Countess Exa raises horses, but as her home is in the low mountains, she also breeds a few mules, some of which she’d recently brought here for sale.

Yarif assures me this is the finest mule the countess has ever bred.

” A touch of pink stained Niam’s cheeks.

Rufe stroked Princess’s neck. Princess swung her head around to study him, then butted his shoulder playfully in a Hey, I didn’t tell you to stop kind of way.

“I don’t know what to say. She’s amazing. Thank you!”

Niam couldn’t fight his smile. He should have trusted Yarif’s judgment. “I think the two of you make a perfect match. We leave tomorrow, so I thought you might like to ride her today. Start getting acquainted.”

Rufe glanced over his shoulder to Vihaan, asking in Cormiran. “Do we have time?”

Vihaan rubbed his impressive beard—brown, shot through with gray—with one hand. His bright blue eyes twinkled. He answered in heavily accented Cormiran, “An hour or two.”

Rufe petted the mule’s withers while she stood basking in the adoration. “She’s a beauty and knows it.” He fingered the fine leather reins and tugged lightly on the saddle blanket.

“Aye, she is,” Vihaan agreed .

Niam wouldn’t have noticed the suddenly blank expression on Rufe’s face had he not been closely watching.

“As much as I’d love to get acquainted, we have much to accomplish before tomorrow.” Rufe turned and strode purposefully back toward the castle.

Vihaan scowled, eyeing the mule critically but saying nothing.

Niam hurried to catch up. “Rufe? Is something wrong? I thought you liked your gift.” Had Niam been wrong? Was it because he was showing off his money to a soldier?

Rufe paused, glancing right and left, before taking Niam’s hands.

“I love the gift. She’s perfect. But someone cut the saddle’s girth enough to fail while I’m riding.

The stable lad had to know but gave nothing away.

So, unless he’s very new or bad at his job, either he’s used to taking such orders or feels he’s in the right. ”

“I’ll have him arrested at once!” Cass blurted, his long strides putting him close enough to overhear.

Rufe stopped Cass's advance with a hand to his arm. “No. What have we learned if we arrest him and he doesn’t talk? It’s better to watch him, see where he goes, what he does, who he talks to.

A lad of no more than sixteen summers wouldn’t have acted alone.

I’d hoped we wouldn’t encounter enemies until we left the castle grounds.

It seems I was wrong. Vihaan noticed and knows what to do.

Cass? Please escort us back to the castle as though nothing was amiss. ”

How dare someone attempt Rufe harm! But…

As Commander Rufe, enemies had to know he’d check such details and was a skilled enough rider to counter such efforts easily.

Yes, he was still re covering from recent injuries, but if he’d taken a fall and then discovered the cut, odds were he’d have survived, and the lad would get more than interrogation.

A warning, then? But of what, and for whom?