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Niam located a cooking pot among the packs and dashed to the stream for water. He’d never dare set foot in the frigid waters, but he could warm some for a cursory bath. No getting close to his lover while covered in road grime.

They’d eaten well for being in an abandoned cabin, Casseign’s father’s trout trap having worked as promised. Niam leaned against the cabin wall. With nightfall came cooler temperatures, but a fire in the hearth kept the room comfortable.

They’d all taken advantage of warm water for a brief wash.

Vihaan stood, holding down a hand for Casseign. “Time for our watch.”

Casseign paused a moment before allowing Vihaan to pull him to his feet. He eyed Rufe and Niam. “We’ll wake you later.” His cheeks flushed, and he turned away. “Sorry, Your Maj—”

Niam lifted a hand, cutting him off. “Remember, I’m not nobility here. I am Ned, and I think I can handle guard duty.” Another aspect of a soldier’s life he’d romanticized while young.

“As you wish.” Vihaan gave a somewhat mocking bow, softened by his smile. “Come on, Casseign, show me around the perimeter. Tell me embarrassing stories of young and foolish Cass.”

Cass smacked Vihaan's shoulder with his hand, a blush staining his cheeks and his eyes averted. Their night might prove interesting. They donned their cloaks, gloves, and hats and headed outside. A chill breeze snuck in during the brief moment before the door closed.

Rufe snorted when he and Niam were alone. “I’m sure that’s not all Vihaan wants to be shown.”

“What? ”

Rufe wriggled close to Niam. “I’m unsure if Vihaan knows what to do with his attraction to Casseign. His former lover, a female mercenary, died while attempting to save Yarif.”

“The person he mourned at Telaga Pass?”

“Jayra, yes. One and the same. I don’t know if he’s ready to pursue someone else or if he’s ever been with a man, particularly one at least ten summers younger, but the spark is there.” Rufe added another log to the fire.

“What about Casseign?”

Rufe settled back on the floor with a sigh, warming his hands by the fire. “He’s more subtle, especially given their rank disparities, but he’d climb Vihaan like a tree if allowed half a chance.”

Niam settled a few feet away, admiring how the firelight played over the stark plains of Rufe’s face. “What do you mean, rank disparities?”

“For one, Vihaan is a Glendoran commander, and Glendor is a part of the empire.” Rufe shifted his gaze right and left as though expecting to find eavesdroppers.

“Wait a minute.” The history Niam had learned as a child came back to him. “Vihaan is Glendoran. You know, the Glendorans owe Delletina a considerable debt of gold from financing their conquest of Cresdor about thirty winters ago. They negotiated with the empire so they wouldn’t have to repay.”

“I wasn’t aware. Does Whreyn know of the debt?”

Would he? He’d likely learned the same histories as Niam. “Yes, most likely. He might offer to reduce or forgive the debt if Glendor supports his claim to my throne. But there’s another concerning twist. Is Vihaan’s family name Baravell, by any chance?”

Rufe nodded. “Yes, but Cormiran military seldom uses family names to help ensure noble recruits don’t receive special favors. I’m Cap… I mean, Commander Rufe, as King Draylon was Commander Draylon. What has this got to do with Vihaan and Casseign?”

“Mother insisted I learn the notable families of the other kingdoms. He’s the right age.

If Cresdor and Glendor hadn’t combined…” Niam sucked in a breath.

Should he divulge the information without Vihaan’s approval?

Then again, family lineages were freely available in public records.

“If he’s a Baravell, Vihaan is actually Prince Vihaan of Cresdor. How well do you trust him?”

Rufe’s mouth dropped open. “Vihaan is a prince?”

“He would be if the Glendoran king hadn't killed his parents and taken over Cresdor. He’s a Glendoran commander. Do his loyalties lie with them? What kind of man turns around and fights for the people who had his family and subjects slaughtered?”

Rufe traded brows lifted in surprise for tightly pursed lips and a thoughtful wrinkle on his brow.

“I trust him with my life. If there’s some duplicity to be found, I’d bet my honor on him not taking part.

As you said, he’s not a born Glendoran, though he says he’s from there.

I’ve been on campaigns with him, and Draylon trusts him.

Avestan made him an official advisor. He doesn’t see himself as more than a commoner, though he’s done well for himself in his own right. ”

Niam rubbed his chin, putting together the information. “Casseign is a woodcutter’s son. He knows the history of Delletina’s war with Glendor, as it’s taught in our military.”

“Do you think he knows Vihaan’s history?” Rufe kept his gaze riveted to the fire. “If so, he might feel unworthy of Vihaan’s attention. I doubt he’d try to gain anything from the connection.”

Was there more of a message there than Rufe let on?

Was he implying his birth and life experiences made him unworthy of Niam?

If so, the time had come to right such an outmoded line of thinking.

“I believe if two people care for each other and commit to one another, they’re worthy, disparities of rank and history be damned.

Now, let me show you worthy.” Niam smiled, shifting closer and pulling Rufe down to the floor, never more thankful for the sturdy, remote cabin.

Time to put conquered kingdoms out of his mind. Rufe provided a much better use for Niam’s attention. Their combined bedrolls provided some cushioning from the hard wooden floor. Even so, Niam took great care not to cause Rufe’s recent injuries any discomfort.

Niam broke away from the kiss. “As much as I’d love to ravage you right now, I don’t believe you’d thank me during our hours in the saddle tomorrow.

We can still enjoy each other.” He opened the front of Rufe’s trousers, reached in, and pulled out Rufe’s lengthening cock.

How he’d love to strip Rufe naked, revel in his muscles in the firelight.

But although the fire offered warmth, they’d best leave their clothes on.

Mostly .

Niam took the head of Rufe’s cock between his lips, moaning at the scent of soap and the taste of the man—a scent and taste he’d never tire of.

Rufe worked his fingers into Niam’s hair. “Ah. So good. I could live hundreds of summers and never get enough of you.”

Encouraging words. Niam worked his tongue, lips, and, very gently, his teeth over the head and along Rufe’s shaft. He let out a long groan. Maybe Vihaan and Casseign were too far away to hear, or perhaps knowing what happened in this cabin would inspire their lusts.

No matter. Niam fully intended to enjoy Rufe while he could.

There was no telling what the coming days might bring.

For now, he contented himself with dragging deep, breathy noises from Rufe’s throat, feeling callused fingers clutch and release his scalp.

Rufe bucked his hips, pushing his cock deeper into Niam’s mouth.

Niam worked Rufe faster, licking his cockhead, and tonguing the slit until Rufe’s pleas grew more urgent. “Don’t stop, Niam. Please, don’t stop.”

Niam snaked a hand down his own trousers, rubbing himself in time with his sucks. Close, so close. He’d love to be buried deep in Rufe’s body. Soon, maybe. Soon.

Every one of Rufe’s muscles went rigid, and he clutched the back of Niam’s head, shooting his seed into Niam’s mouth.

Niam took every drop and rose on his knees, yanking down his trousers and frantically stroking himself. He spilled into his hand, watching the ecstasy on Rufe’s face. They stared into each other’s eyes, sharing a moment of intimate connection.

While so much might stand between them, Niam would find a way to keep this man.

Or die trying.