Page 28 of King's Warrior

“But you’re a king,” Mother pointed out.

Niam set his fork down. “Before we kings all grew soft, leaders of a country were often leaders on the battlefield.” Draylon reminded Niam of tales of his great-grandfather, who’d also been a warrior king, back in Delletina’s brutal past. He’d brought peace to the kingdom. Perhaps Draylon could, too.

“Warrior kings,” Rufe added. Hard not to notice how close he’d pulled his chair to Niam’s. Nor the swaths of bandages beneath his rolled up trouser leg. Or one of Grandfather’s old canes propped nearby.

Draylon studied Rufe, switching his gaze to Niam, then back to Rufe, one eyebrow raised. “Yes, and Rufe? With King Niam’s permission, I’d like you to remain here.”

Rufe nearly choked on a mouthful of tea. “Me? Why?”

For a moment, the words stung. Would it be so bad for Rufe to remain with Niam a bit longer? Did he truly not want to?

“Because I’m about to make a scene, as my mother would say. I don’t want you to be caught in the fight. Fa—Emperor Soland has always been jealous of our friendship and waiting for any misstep to punish you. Besides, I hope to continue the conversation about Delletina becoming part of the empire one day.”

The emperor was jealous of Rufe. There must be more to the story. Then again, his son’s friendship with a branded man with no title likely gave the nobles of Cormira plenty to gossip about.

Rufe narrowed his eyes, bouncing his good leg up and down beneath the table. “Are those the only reasons?”

Draylon leaving Rufe behind because of his injury would offend Rufe's pride.

Mother stepped in, ever the diplomat. “He’s being nice and not pointing out how little good you’d be on horseback during a fight.” Then again, maybe her diplomacy needed work. “I’ve told you, you need to stay put.”

“Your Delletinian leaves much to be desired, and I’m hoping you’ll gain a better grasp of the language.” Draylon likely intended Rufe to monitor Niam, too.

Niam took a sip of his tea, clutching the cup to hide the trembling in his hands. Could he dare hope for more time before he must tell Rufe goodbye? “I have no objections.” He appraised Rufe from the corner of his eye to gauge any reaction.

“Nor do I.” Mother gave a fond smile, likely just as eager to play matchmaker, though for different reasons. She wanted to seeher son happy. And “son” implied anyone she took under her wing and considered hers. Draylon and Yarif likely fell into that category now, as did Willem, Captain Casseign, and half of the king’s guards.

So like Mother, who’d orchestrated many successful matches in her day. As well as dalliances. She must have inherited this trait from her biological father, who arranged advantageous marriages for his daughters, except for Yarif's mother. Although she’d married a king, the match had proved disastrous.

Rufe glared at Draylon. “My place is with you!”

Draylon softened his tone. “Your place is where I need you to be.”

“But you need me!” Rufe gripped the arm of the chair until his knuckles turned white.

I won’t take it personally. I won’t take it personally.There could be many reasons Rufe didn’t want to stay that had nothing to do with Niam, like being a stranger who didn’t speak the language fluently or loyalty to his friend and king. Casseign told Niam often enough how uncomfortable he felt around courtiers. Perhaps Rufe felt the same. Or maybe he didn’t like the cold. Or snow.

Draylon crossed the room, kneeled by Rufe’s chair, and spoke in low tones. “Rufe, yes, I need you by my side, but in your current condition, you’d slow us down through the mountain pass. Father has threatened you more than once to keep me in line. Please, you’ll be more useful to me here.”

Draylon looked away from the tears forming in Rufe’s eyes. “We’ll be together again soon, I promise. Heal your leg. Go tothe capital with Niam. Learn all you can that will help us form treaties.”

Rufe took Draylon’s hand. “If anything happens to you I could have prevented, I’ll bring you back from the dead and kill you myself.”

Draylon smiled fondly. “I would expect nothing less.”

“I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my Cormiran,” Mother said. “And Bert could definitely use some tutoring in the language.”

“Mother, Bert scarcely knows Delletinian some days.” Also, Bert might not be part of the household much longer. What would they do with him? Could he ever be trusted again?

Niam truly hoped so.

Niam had the mules brought around after breakfast, extra ones carrying supplies and anything Draylon and Yarif might need for their return. “Six of my men will accompany you as far as the border. I’m sorry, but any more would draw attention.” He gave Draylon a soldier’s salute, then grasped Yarif’s shoulders, pulling him in until their foreheads touched. “You, dear cousin, go with the Goddess of Travelers and the Goddess of Long-Lost Kin. It is my fondest wish to see you again soon.”

Niam hugged his cousin while Draylon said goodbye to Rufe. Niam fought not to eavesdrop on their conversation.Even so, he caught the last bit: “And am I mistaken that your intentions toward King Niam aren’t all honorable?”

What?

Rufe glanced at Mother, who gave her best mock glare that had often gotten a young Niam back in line. “Very honorable.” Rufe shuddered, eyes going comically wide.

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