Page 30

R ufe leaned against a boulder while on watch, staring out at the night sky lightening around the edges with the approaching dawn, on the last day he’d travel with Niam.

Despite the constant vigilance, he’d enjoyed spending time as two men, not a king and a soldier. Could he even make a convincing lord?

Niam rested beside Rufe, his lean body radiating heat that Rufe fought against moving closer to.

“We should be in Dellamar by nightfall.” Niam’s casual tones betrayed no emotion, although he must be eager to return to his family.

Reminders weren’t necessary. They’d soon be Lord Rufe, the empire’s representative, and King Niam again, with no personal connection—or none they could show in public, though Vihaan and Casseign knew their secret.

“Things will be different there,” Rufe ventured. The old Rufe would’ve been eager for new conquests. Having a variety of unknown lovers to choose from now had completely lost its appeal. Was this what Draylon felt, not wanting anyone else besides Yarif ?

“Aye, they will. I’ll miss taking you to my bed every night and turning to you for counsel.” Niam’s sparkling green eyes held unshed tears, barely visible by firelight. “I’d rather be with you.”

“We understood from the beginning that our relationship had a time limit.” Rufe knew, but let his big, dumb heart deny the truth anyway and tuck Niam deep inside.

Several tranquil moments ensued before Niam spoke again, softly murmuring, “I don’t want this change.

With you, I don’t have to be King Niam of Delletina, one in a long line of monarchs who mark the family tree with notable political unions, except for Father, who’d married for love.

And while my queen consort and I didn’t hate each other, we were ill-suited, and she’d already given her heart to another.

I don’t want another passionless relationship built on expediency. ”

“What do you want?” Rufe’s heart hammered. While he couldn’t have Niam himself, he still wanted the man happy, though Niam finding happiness with another might strike a killing blow to Rufe’s heart.

“I want you.” Niam kissed Rufe, a kiss full of desperation, passion, and maybe a goodbye.

Rufe would take the words and the affection and stupidly clutch tightly to both. Until they spotted the castle in the distance, they could remain two men, no, two lovers. He clung to the contact even as Niam pulled away.

Niam averted his gaze. “It’s about daylight. Time to wake the others and prepare to move out. ”

“I’ll go. You stay here and enjoy the morning for a few more moments.” Besides, a few moments alone might let Rufe settle his thoughts before facing others.

“Thank you.”

Rufe shuffled back to the camp they’d made in the trees. Vihaan and Cass lay close together on the ground, enfolded in blankets but not spooned together like Niam and Rufe. The fire Rufe stoked earlier kept them warm, but had now burned down to coals.

He hated waking them, but they needed to reach the castle. “Get up. Time to move out.”

Vihaan grabbed his sword, jumping instantly to his feet. He spotted Rufe, shook himself, and gave a lazy smile. “I’ve been a soldier too long, haven’t I?”

More often than not, Rufe woke the same way.

Cass rose more leisurely, wrapping his cloak around himself and yawning.

Niam, Rufe, Vihaan, and Cass gathered around the dying coals to finish last night’s rabbit, then packed their belongings and loaded the mules. Rufe had become used to donning a fur hat, gloves, and a fur-lined cloak.

They headed north toward tall peaks, Casseign once more in the lead.

Rufe glanced back, thinking of the cabin in the woods and their camps along the way and how he’d love to stay safe at the cabin with Niam forever. Life awaited—a life that didn’t include Niam. That couldn’t include him.

Rufe’s heavy heart thudded in time with his mule’s hoofbeats.

They emerged from the thick forest into a clearing, snow and slush on the ground, the nip of the air colder without the trees to block the wind.

An imposing castle rose in the distance, the base appearing as part of the mountain. A place of glittering granite spires and tall towers. A powerful sense of doom struck Rufe despite his coming with negotiating power straight from the emperor. He’d never felt so insignificant.

“Stop here,” Niam said.

All four men reined in their mules, Vihaan lifting a questioning brow, Casseign following orders from his king without question.

“Is there a problem?” Rufe asked.

“There might be. We can’t be too cautious.

We’ll leave the mules here.” Niam tied his mule to a tree, yanking his hand away when she peeled back her lips and bared her teeth.

“We can’t arrest Whreyn without proof. He has too many toadies, and there’s no direct link between him and Illa.

My cousin hasn’t been found to tell what he knows. ”

Rufe removed a glove, running his fingers through Princess’s thick winter coat. She nuzzled him, breath warming his face before turning to fog and dissipating.

“Wait here,” Casseign said. “I need to ensure the others have arrived, and what might be waiting.” He slipped into the trees on foot.

Niam, Rufe, and Vihaan sat on nearby rocks, cloaks drawn about them.

Casseign reappeared a short time later. “There were no ambushes, but our fake captain took his own life.” He gritted his teeth. “I’d hoped to get more information. You have a plan for getting into the castle, Your Majesty?”

Niam nodded toward another stand of evergreen trees, branches weighed down with snow and ice. “Follow me. Someone will come for the mules. They can’t go where we’re going.”

Rufe and Vihaan looked at each other curiously. Casseign stepped behind Niam, who strode up a steep embankment and disappeared behind a neat row of cedars, too evenly spaced to be a natural occurrence.

Rufe and Vihaan followed, though not as sure-footed as the two locals, who’d likely climbed mountains from an early age.

Niam struck a flint, lighting a lantern tucked inside a narrow cave. “The first part is low, so you’ll need to duck.”

“Your Majesty,” Casseign said, walking a fine line between respect and rebuke. “You don’t know what you’ll find. I should go first.”

Niam released a heavy sigh. “Fine.” He handed over the lantern.

Casseign drew his sword, hunched, and wriggled his way through the entrance, followed by Niam and Vihaan, who also drew his sword .

Rufe armed himself with a dagger better suited to tight quarters and followed, hurrying to catch the light.

“Why are we going this way?” Shouldn’t a king come in through the front gate?

“In times of trouble,” Niam said, “the royal family uses alternate entrances. The soldiers who rode ahead of us would have made preparations.”

“What if one of those soldiers is a traitor?”

Even in the dimness, Rufe made out Niam’s smile when he turned to look back over his shoulder. “That’s why I won’t be coming in the way I said.”

Conniving and safe. Rufe liked this plan. The cave opened enough for them to stand and walk two abreast. Rufe still clung to his dagger instead of his sword. The cave branched off.

“To the left,” Niam instructed, followed by more lefts and a few rights upward before they came to narrow stone steps carved out of the mountain itself.

Only their footprints marred the dust, a good sign. Still, Rufe prepared for an ambush.

The stairs veered to the left again, but Niam stopped. “I’d best go first, Casseign.”

“But, Sire…”

Niam pressed against a section of wall, which swung out. “Good evening, Mother.”

Nera stood in what appeared to be a sewing room, her heart-shaped face surrounded by copper curls shot through with gray.

She dropped her sewing and rushed to Niam, enfolding him into her arms briefly, then stepping back, giving him a critical once-over.

“No need for such theatrics. Although Whreyn has been sniffing around, all in the castle is secure.”

Rufe didn’t miss the dagger she wore tucked into a small sheath on her waistband.

“Welcome, Commander Rufe. I’m so glad to see you again, and you too, Captain Casseign.” Nera smiled in genuine pleasure until eyeing Vihaan, who’d hung back.

Niam gestured Vihaan forward with a wave of his hand. “Mother, this is Vihaan, former commander of the Glendoran troops, now an advisor to His Imperial Majesty Avestan Aravaid. Commander Vihaan, Queen Mother Nera Fjell.”

Before Vihaan could take her hand, Nera spun, leading them farther into the room.

Maybe joining hands in greeting wasn’t the custom here.

“Come in. I received your message. Although some of the main party has already arrived, loyal guards posing as the four of you will enter the gates after dark. If anyone planned an ambush, it would be then, but the deception also keeps your true arrival secret. You see, Niam, you’re not the only family member prone to theatrics.

” She motioned with her hand. “Follow me.”

Nera led them down the hall and into what appeared to be a sitting room with two settees, four heavily padded chairs, and several small tables laden with tea cups, wine goblets, carafes, and plates of pastries, bread, sliced meat, and cheeses.

“We’ll serve a formal dinner tomorrow evening, but we couldn’t exactly plan anything while you weren’t actually here.

However, meetings are scheduled for tomorrow morning. ”

Nera poured them each a cup of tea and sat on a chair, back straight. The men sat as well, Vihaan and Cass on one settee, Rufe and Niam on the other. Rufe helped himself to a plate of chicken, bread, and cheese. He nearly moaned to be off the mule and eating something other than travel rations.

Niam served himself a smaller portion. “What has happened in my absence?” Even unshaven and covered in road grime, there was no mistaking him for anything other than royalty.

“Rumors are circling like vultures about a proposed alliance with the empire.” Nera took a sip of tea. “And also a betrothal between you and Whreyn’s niece, Olivia.”

Betrothal? Had Niam chosen a queen consort?

Niam stiffened, casting a nervous glance Rufe’s way. “I hope you corrected their misguided assumptions, Mother.”

Nera merely sipped her tea, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “I let them talk, for how will I learn anything if I don’t?”

Niam slapped a hand over his face. “Mother, you’re not encouraging the gossips, are you?”

“Perhaps,” she replied, as smug as Rufe had ever seen her, though he’d only known her a few weeks at the keep the family used as a retreat from court life. “I’m old enough to know rushed marriages usually have a reason, and Whreyn is pushing for the wedding to take place at the first opportunity.”

Rufe didn’t really know Olivia, yet already didn’t like her, especially if she was complicit in her uncle’s manipulations. She likely wouldn’t object much to becoming Delletina’s queen consort .

“Don’t worry, Mother.” Niam helped himself to more bread.

“You’ll not be asked to plan a speedy wedding.

I’ve met the woman twice—which was two times too many.

Whreyn has obviously trained her. No one so young could become so despicable otherwise.

I’m surprised the servants haven’t murdered her in her sleep. She lacks your… grace.”

Nera snorted. “She lacks many things. I’m glad my son is among them.

” She cast a sly glance at Rufe, giving a quick wink.

What did she mean? Was she in favor of Niam and Rufe?

“Your messenger sent word that the enemy captured in the pass yielded little information and died before they reached the capital.”

Rufe had to clear his throat before words emerged. “What are our next steps?”

“You, my dear, will be introduced as an emissary. I understand you’re here to represent the emperor, are you not?” Nera sipped from her delicate crystal goblet.

“I am.” Despite her current airs, Rufe could imagine the queen mother chugging ale in the local tavern as easily as sipping wine with the wealthy at court.

She had a certain quality that allowed her to blend in, like those lizards in the Southern Islands capable of assuming the colors of their surroundings.

“We’ll make sure no one can refuse your proposals. In addition, your mission means many hours sequestered in my son’s office as you work on a treaty.” She lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. “Use your time… wisely.”

“Mother!” Niam nearly shrieked.

Vihaan and Casseign failed to hide their laughter .

“Life is too short to talk circles around the truth, Niam. Better to come out and say what’s on your mind.” Once more, Nera winked at Rufe.

While having Vihaan and Casseign on Rufe’s side offered reassurances, Nera might be the most formidable ally in all of Delletina.

“Your Majesty, if what you say is true, may I be so bold as to ask you a direct question?” Rufe might be taking his life into his own hands, yet she’d stated a preference for directness.

And for all his concerns about his future and the state of politics, his burning curiosity sometimes got the better of him.

“I’d respect no other kind.” A certain wariness lurked in Nera’s eyes, gone in an instant.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

Vihaan, Niam, and Casseign all spewed wine.

“Rufe! How could you even suggest such a thing?” Niam asked amid a coughing fit.

Nera smiled serenely and calmly lifted her goblet in a toast. “Not that anyone has ever lived to accuse me of.”

Oh, Goddess. Let Rufe stay on this woman’s good side.

“Mother, do you think I could see the boys? I’ve missed them terribly. Or do you think they’d give away my presence?”

Mother lifted her nose into the air. “My grandsons are discreet, and they’ve missed you too.” She rose and crossed the floor to the door. Rufe heard soft murmurs until Nera returned. “They’ll be here shortly. ”

A few moments later, the door burst open, and in came two boys, the younger one with light brown hair and big brown eyes. The older boy, perhaps eight or nine summers, could have been the very image of a younger Niam, with copper hair, green eyes, and an impish smile.

“Papa!” they both exclaimed, running across the floor.

Niam went down on one knee, taking the boys into his arms. He kissed their cheeks, murmuring, “I missed you so much.” He pulled back to look into their faces. “Have you behaved for Grandmother and Master Wedgeworth?”

“Yes, Father,” they both said.

Niam stood, facing Rufe. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Commander Vihaan and Ambassador Rufe from the Cormiran Empire.” He nodded to Rufe and Vihaan. “Esteemed sirs, I’d like you to meet Prince Quillan,”—Niam placed his hand on the older boy’s head—“and Prince Uri, my sons.”

“Hello,” Quillan said. Uri partially hid behind his father.

For a moment, Rufe felt the pang of loss for the sons and daughters he’d never have. Perhaps keeping these two boys safe would be enough.