Page 25 of King's Warrior

Draylon scowled. “Many nobles lost their lands when the empire won the war with Draige. The emperor awarded their holdings and titles to his greatest supporters.” Judging by his lowered brows and crossed arms, Draylon didn’t support such actions.

Good.

“And seeing the king consort of Renvalle in my home…” Niam shook his head. “During our talks, Whreyn also made subtle hints about me paying for his silence.”

“And?” Draylon prompted.

“And there isn’t enough gold in our mountains to keep the dratted man quiet, but he’s too well connected to throw intothe dungeon.” Niam threw down his fork in disgust. If not for the consequences from other nobles, he’d throw Whreyn into the dungeon on suspicion alone and keep him there. Indefinitely. The kingdom would undoubtedly be better off without him.

“You have a dungeon?” Yarif asked.

Niam gave a strained smile to his young cousin. “Not usable, but if I did, I’m not sure I could stand the temptation. So, as much as I’m enjoying your visit, the time has come for you to leave.”

And return to Renvalle to face a potential murderer.

Chapter Ten

Niam sat on the window seat of his room, underneath a blanket, his chest against Rufe’s back, content in the moment. Rufe felt so right in Niam’s arms, a calming force in a tumultuous world.

They gazed out the window at the steadily falling snow. Niam used to love snow, sledding, and ice skating, but now feared what frigid weather could do to Rufe as he returned to Renvalle and perhaps left Niam’s life for good. His contentment evaporated.

Gone. Rufe would be gone, leaving an empty space in Niam’s life. He wrapped the blanket tighter around them to keep out the chill and possibly ward off their inevitable separation. A lone figure wandered the garden. What was Yarif doing unattended? Ah, there was his guard under a tree, keeping his distance to allow some semblance of privacy. Still, Niam would feel safer if his guests stayed inside the keep.

But he couldn’t protect them once they left the safety of these walls. He nuzzled Rufe’s neck. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Rufe settled more securely into Niam’s arms. “I don’t want to leave, but you know we could never have more than we have now.”

Even though Rufe only said what Niam knew to be fact, the words hurt. “Why not?”

Rufe snorted. “Because I’m not a noble, have no lands or fortune, I’m a bastard, and the mark on my hand brands me a traitor. I shouldn’t even speak with you, let alone share your bed.”

“Those things don’t matter to me.” Niam’s heart cried out for Rufe, an honorable man despite his words.

Rufe snorted. “Not here. But they would once you return to Dellamar, your castle, and your duties.”

Would they? Could Niam hold Rufe’s hand and walk down the castle’s corridors for all to see?

“Could you introduce me to your sons with pride?”

That question required no thought for an answer. “The boys would adore you. You’re everything they want to grow up to be. They often ask me to read them stories of warriors and battles, and want to know what the sea looks like.”

A second figure approached Yarif out in the snowy garden. Niam and Rufe both stiffened until Rufe pointed out, “It’s just Draylon. I believe his and Yarif’s time here has been good for them. They’ve gotten to know each other better without duties competing for their time.”

Draylon took Yarif into his arms, melding their mouths. Yes, very good, indeed. The emperor likely wouldn’t be amused to discover his son had fallen in love with his intended victim.

A flash of motion whizzed by the kissing couple. Was that an arrow? Rufe and Niam jumped to their feet, Rufe running from the room. Niam paused long enough to grab his sword and cloakand order the guard at the door, “Go, bring more help. My guests are being attacked in the garden.” Niam met Rufe, similarly armed, at the base of the stairs.

He and Rufe charged out the kitchen door closest to the gardens, six guards following. Draylon and Yarif charged toward them. A dead man lay a few feet away.

Rufe paused. “Draylon! Yarif! Are you hurt?”

Yarif shook his head, sucking in air. “No. We’re fine.”

Rufe nodded and darted toward the trees, three guards on his heels.

Someone knew Yarif and Draylon were here. Someone who didn’t want them to leave. At least, not alive.

Niam motioned the remaining guards forward, then kneeled next to the dead man. “This is one of Whreyn’s men. He’s not in uniform, but I recognize him.” He’d been with Whreyn when he’d visited and must’ve remained behind. “How dare he violate the sanctity of my keep?” Niam got to his feet, kicking at the sword discarded in the snow a few feet away. “That’s a fine, well-maintained sword, so doubtlessly stolen. Whreyn wouldn’t have paid for such a thing.”

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