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Willem stared at a point over Niam’s shoulder. “You won’t. He outlived his usefulness. Whreyn used his example to further convince me to do his bidding.” His eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. So, so sorry. I promise to forever be your loyal subject.”

This from a man who once called Niam by name. Never again, inspiring a surprising sense of loss. No need to dwell on the past. One day, they’d have to have a longer conversation. Not here, not now. “Have you been taking notes for this meeting?”

“Yes… yes… Your Majesty. Until you… you know.”

“Then I suggest you get back to work. We’ll discuss the matter more later.” Niam studied his new advisors; some leaned forward, showing keen interest; others appeared bored, but none showed guilt. Time would tell. “Do you, my new advisors, have any other matters to present?”

“Just one, Your Majesty,” a countess from a remote area of the kingdom said, her hair gone white with age. “Though now might not be the time.”

“What is it?”

“You’ve taken a consort, but not with a formal ceremony in the great hall, as your father, his father, and his father before him did.

After all this sorrow, we could use a joyous occasion.

A royal wedding, or at least some formal acknowledgment of your bond, would go a long way toward healing the wounds of our people. ”

Maybe so. Niam also knew the right person for the job. He loved planning events but couldn’t spare time in the near future. “Make an appointment to discuss the matter with my mother. Late spring should give her plenty of opportunity to over think and over plan every minor detail. ”

Niam watched the advisors leave. “Lord Bradford?” Niam called.

A squat man twice Niam’s age turned. “Yes, your majesty?”

“Please escort Willem to his quarters. You’re to remain there, Willem, until someone comes to see you home.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Bradford and Willem both answered.

Niam collapsed back into his chair, head leaned back, eyes closed. “I think that went well,” he said in Cormiran.

Draylon took the seat he’d vacated to watch over Willem. “I didn’t understand all of it, but I got the general idea. You’re letting Willem live.”

Niam opened his eyes, sitting straighter. “Yes. In his own way, he tried to protect my family.”

Draylon cocked a brow. “You believe him?”

“Until he proves I can’t.” Niam gave a bitter laugh. “I can’t execute all my subjects now, can I?”

Rufe took Niam’s hand, which rested on the table. “It’s not a weakness to show mercy.”

“Do the people think I’m weak?” Niam’s father had been firm but fair. Niam strove to be the same.

“Not weak. They simply thought you outmatched.” Rufe raised Niam’s hand to his mouth and kissed the fingers. Heat burned in his eyes. “They know better now.”

The sweet relief of the past few days finally sank in. Niam and his allies had defeated their enemies and secured his throne. Now he found himself in a position to help his people rebuild.

All because of Rufe .

A shiver trailed up Niam’s spine. This man, this beautiful, scarred warrior, agreed to be his consort. Despite the empire's arrangement of the match, Niam couldn't imagine a more suitable mate to share his life with.

He raked his eyes over Rufe’s suitably royal—but not ostentatious—attire. Beneath those layers of cloth lay muscles, and chest hair, and…

Draylon cleared his throat, rising from his chair. “If we’re finished here, I must meet with Vihaan and Casseign.” Hopefully, to deliver Niam’s request to Vihaan: investigate the death of Rufe’s brother, proving whether or not he’d died by accident.

Niam forcibly tore his gaze from Rufe. “You have my undying thanks for all you’ve done.”

Draylon bowed, turned smartly on his heel, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Niam and Rufe paused for a moment. Then they both pounced, knocking papers to the floor, toppling chairs, flinging clothing to the floor until they both lay naked on the table, Niam astride Rufe, plundering his mouth. Never had he wanted anyone more.

Rufe licked his palm and wrapped his hand around their erections, pumping with a firm, even stroke. Niam grunted, running his fingers along Rufe’s chest, tweaking a nipple.

Rufe let out a groan, thrusting up into Niam’s touch. Neither said a word. All thoughts descended into feeling Rufe’s hand on Niam’s shaft, the swipe of tongue against tongue, the steady rhythm of hearts pounding out a frantic beat, the pressure building deep within .

Their breaths mingled as Niam ended the kiss, staring deeply into Rufe’s eyes. He could get lost in those dark brown depths, never wanting to find his way back again. Rufe’s pace faltered, his eyes going unfocused. The pressure building in Niam’s groin grew, pushing him past the point of no return.

He slammed his mouth back onto Rufe’s, which caught Niam’s whimpers of ecstasy. Rufe pulled back, convulsing, roaring out his own release.

Niam collapsed, panting, to Rufe’s side, nestling between a muscular arm and a heaving chest. Niam’s body rocked as Rufe’s chuckles grew to full-on laughter.

“What is so amusing?”

“The next time you’re in here with a bunch of odious old toads, think back to this moment.”

Now, the image wouldn’t leave Niam’s head, which wasn’t a bad thing. One of many happy memories he planned to make with this man. He settled his head on Rufe’s shoulder, more content than he ever recalled being.

All might not be totally right in the kingdom yet, but with Rufe’s help, it would be.