Page 52

R ufe sat by the window, staring out at the night. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, sending chills racing along his spine. He sat in thoughtful silence. In short order, he’d gone from bastard to legitimate son, from soldier to heir.

And now king consort. The position meant nothing to him—his new husband did.

He cleaned himself with a pitcher of cool water and a cloth, then dressed in a simple tunic, breeches, and boots. Bonding night, it might be, but war clouds gathered on the horizon. Plans must be made. While Rufe might not understand the nuances of being a king’s consort, he understood war.

Niam lay tangled in the sheets, as thoroughly debauched as Rufe could manage. A gratified smile curved Rufe’s lips. He’d satisfied Niam and would do so again as often as possible.

He relit the lantern, took the hidden passageway to a corridor near Draylon’s room, exited, and knocked on the ornate door carved with Yarif’s family crest. A guard opened the door, eyes widening at seeing Rufe.

“I’d like to see King Draylon. ”

The guard silently ushered Rufe into the antechamber and tapped on Draylon’s door.

Draylon threw the door open, storming out with a booming laugh.

“Yarif owes me ten silver pieces. He said we wouldn’t see you until morning.

I told him you were too much of a soldier to shirk duty, even on your wedding night.

” He nodded to the guard. “Wait in the hallway, please. I need to talk to Com… Emiss… Lord… Damnation! I need to talk to Rufe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The guard stepped from the room, hiding a snicker while closing the door behind him. Rufe used to tease Draylon about all his many titles.

Draylon pointed toward two chairs, a small table between them set with a decanter of wine and two goblets. They both sat, Draylon poured, then lifted his goblet. “To a long and successful union.”

Rufe clinked his goblet to Draylon’s. Not too long ago, he’d toasted Draylon’s bonding.

Once they’d sipped, Draylon asked, “So what, in particular, has you leaving your bonding night for my rooms? In our younger days, we both would’ve boasted about a newly bonded man leaving their spouse to seek us out.”

Yes, Rufe would have. He suddenly didn’t feel proud of his past behavior. “We signed the treaty, the first step in making Delletina part of the empire. Niam has bonded with a Cormiran noble. Now it’s time for us to fulfill our part of the bargain. ”

Draylon snickered. “You’re going to have to get used to the fact that you, Niam, and Delletina are now ‘our.’ While you’re still Cormiran, you’re Niam’s king consort.”

Rufe waved away the words. “A topic for another time. How are we going to secure his throne? I know the two of you discussed the matter before my arrival. Please, catch me up to date.”

Draylon sobered. “I know you have had little time to talk to him. Did he tell you someone attacked him on his way here? Up in the pass?”

“The pass?” Many lives ended there. More than a few by Rufe’s sword.

“Yes. He and his men killed them all, but the fact that they followed him and took advantage says someone prefers a more direct approach to seizing the throne. You told me about the attempt on his life before we summoned you.”

For which the investigation turned up nothing. “So, what can I do?”

“ We’re going to make our presence known. The treaty gives us the right to send a force. Not an unnecessarily large one. We don’t want to give his enemies the excuse of an invasion to sway the people, but enough to let them know King Niam has the full backing of the empire.”

“We should leave Niam here where it’s safe. He should stay here until his boys return.”

“My dear commander, that is the absolute last thing we should do. He needs to be there with his head held high, showing his foes he has every right to be there. Don’t worry. We will heavily guard him.”

Rufe didn’t enjoy taking Niam into the viper’s nest, but understood Draylon’s reasoning. “I’ll be by his side.”

Draylon grimaced. “I don’t think that’s wise. Let him return with the news he’s married a Cormiran noble.”

“I’m not letting him go alone.”

“He won’t be. We’re sending soldiers. You, Vihaan, and I will hide in the ranks.”

Rufe narrowed his eyes. “Yarif would never agree to you going.”

“Yarif wants to protect his kin and your sorry ass. His sole stipulation was to add Vihaan, who can bear witness for the emperor.”

Buried within the ranks. Rufe took another sip of wine, a Herixian vintage if he didn’t miss his guess.

Many claimed the commodity was the only reason the empire included Herix, a kingdom whose entire economy hinged on wine and goats.

Granted, they had an exceptional wine, but pretty ordinary goats.

Rufe drank his wine and held out his goblet for a refill. “When do we leave?”

“Day after tomorrow.” Draylon refilled the wine, adding more to his goblet. “We’ll stop by the border camp and send the Glendorans toward Dellamar. I’ll also send for some Herixians. They’re used to mountainous conditions. We should beat them there.”

“Tomorrow,” Rufe countered. “I don’t want his boys in Whreyn’s hands a moment longer than necessary. We’ve wasted enough time already.” The poor children were probably terrified and wanting their father. Why did assholes insist on bringing innocents into their schemes?

Wait. Was Rufe now their father, too? “Correction. Our boys.” The words tasted foreign on his tongue. Too fucking bad. Quillan and Uri were his sons, and he’d be damned if he let anyone harm them.

“Trust Exa. She’ll find them. I want us near Niam. Avestan agrees with me.”

“You have a way of getting in the last word that no one can argue against.” Stubborn ass.

“What’s the use of having an emperor for a brother if you don’t intend to take advantage of the perks?” Draylon gave a crooked smile that, in the past, would have suggested an invitation. Now, not only was it not an invitation, but Rufe would politely decline one if offered.

Their times together had been fun, anything from celebrating friendship to commiserating despair to an out-and-out need to relieve stress. Those encounters existed solely in the past. The future belonged to Niam. And Yarif, of course.

“Day after tomorrow,” Rufe finally agreed.

Draylon winked. “Make sure you’re both capable of sitting in a saddle.”

Rufe kept a straight face with some effort. “That’s left to be seen.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Enter!” Draylon called.

A harried sergeant rushed in. “Your Majesty. We’ve just received word. Whreyn's men have captured Countess Exa.”

“About leaving….” Rufe prodded.

They left before dawn, leaving the comfort of the castle for the wilds of the mountains.