Page 70 of King's Warrior

The hidden panel in Rufe’s rooms eased open around midnight. He put down his book, grabbed his sword, and positioned himself in the shadows where he’d see any assailants before they saw him. Just because assassins hadn’t yet visited him didn’t mean they wouldn’t.

The waning hearth fire and the lantern on Rufe’s bedside table illuminated copper hair and pale skin. Rufe sheathed the sword and placed the scabbard back on a chair. “Niam.” His sweet Niam. Here, now. All afternoon, he’d fretted over Whreyn’s words. Rufe would die himself before he let anyone harm his king.

Or Whreyn would die. Rufe preferred it was Whreyn.

“Rufe!” Niam threw himself into Rufe’s arms. “When I heard you’d gone alone against who knew how many…” He trembled. Rufe held him closer.

“I’ve done similar things many times. I knew how to keep them from seeing me and what to do if they did. I wouldn’t have approached over four men.” He tried to lighten the mood with a grin. “Four’s my limit on most days.”

“You could have been killed! I could’ve lost you!”

Something in Rufe’s heart clenched—something best put away until later. “But you didn’t lose me, and you won’t.” Nor would Rufe lose Niam, at least not to death.

“You can’t know for sure. Promise me you won’t take such chances in the future.”

Rufe gazed into Niam’s eyes and found… pain. “I can’t promise. If it keeps you or your sons safe, I’ll do whatever I must.”

They held each other for several minutes until Niam stopped shaking and stepped back. “Thank you for going with the boys today. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to them—to any of you.”

“They’re good boys.”

Niam nodded, his tousled hair falling around his face, a face whose features softened at the mention of the princes. Many fathers of Rufe’s acquaintance only acknowledged their sons when boasting or complaining. From all Rufe knew of Niam, the man must be a great father, involved in his children’s lives as much as royal duties allowed.

“Did you get to speak with Quillan and Uri?” Niam asked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t arrange much time with them for us.”

“I did, and thoroughly enjoyed their company, but will have to be careful, though. Why would a foreign diplomat need to interact with Delletinian princes?” Many Cormiran nobles thought Rufe unfit company for their children, starting with the former emperor who’d railed against Rufe’s friendship with Draylon.

“I should send the boys away for their own protection, but they’d be too easily found at their mother’s estate. Countess Exa sent a message offering her home as a sanctuary. I met her when buying Princess. How well do you know her? Can I trust her?”

“She’s a dear friend of Yarif’s and an honorable woman. He’s likely the one who urged her to write, as taking interest in theDelletinian princes himself might be misconstrued as a political move. Draylon Aravaid trusts her.”

Niam’s eyes took on a haunted quality, barely visible by lantern light. “If cousin Yarif trusts her, I think it would be in my best interests to do the same. Mother will go with them, of course, as well as some of my most trusted men.”

“Of course.”

Rufe didn’t realize until then how much he feared for the boys or Nera. Having them across the border would be the safest thing. Possibly not for Niam politically, as they’d likely visit Yarif at the castle at some point, and rumors about them being kidnapped or used for leverage on Niam’s decisions might spread. Rufe would love to send them to his parents, for Mother would look after the two young princes as her own, but Ronwith would never let such a secret remain so, not when parlaying the information for his own benefit might prove useful.

And Mother might become attached and refuse to give the boys back. She’d always loved children and admonished Rufe and his brother often about making her a grandmother.

“I’m so very sorry it’s come to this. I’ll escort them if you’d like. While I’d hate to be away from you, politics was never my passion—protecting is. I can go with them.” Rufe felt as useless as teats on a boar sitting around the castle all day with little to do, with even less time to spend with his lover, and getting nowhere with the hardheaded nobles. Ultimately, the treaty would be Niam’s decision, but Rufe respected his insistence on obtaining backing.

Niam pressed his forehead to Rufe’s. “I don’t want you to go, but I know you’re unhappy here. I long for a place where we could be together like we wish.” He kissed Rufe then, likely to silence any reply, a gentle pressing together of lips. A benediction.

He broke the kiss. “The boys are safe for now. I’ve tucked them into their beds, and they’re under guard. Just for tonight, will you make me forget all the turmoil in my life, the treacherous nobles, even that I’m a king and therefore don’t have free choice in my life?”

Rufe’s heart broke for the agony in the request, the sorrow on Niam’s face. “I’ll do whatever you need of me for as long as you’ll have me.” He joined their mouths, sealing the promise with a kiss.

Niam tried to stand. Rufe squeezed with his thighs, holding Niam in place. “I like you like this. Why don’t you stay forever?” If only they could.

“It’s not by my will that I leave you.” Niam kissed the tip of Rufe’s nose and collapsed onto the mattress, tucking Rufe into his side.

Rufe gave his sensitive cock a few more strokes and breathed out slowly, unable to keep the smile from his face, despite the tense mood. “That was so damned good,” he said, rolling to his side to register Niam’sexpression.

The normally reserved king wasn’t reserved now, admiration and perhaps more shining in his eyes. He said nothing, merely kissed Rufe’s shoulder, and settled his head there. Rufe admired Niam, lying so peacefully, so contented-looking—a look Rufe wished to see on him more often. Gods, what a beautiful man.

Realizing the depth of his love for Niam didn’t come as a massive shock, for Rufe had suspected for some time that he might lose his heart for good. This moment removed all doubts. Compared to Niam, all future lovers would always fall short, even with their doomed relationship. “I love you” would forever remain in Rufe’s heart.

Maids had left water in a basin, along with a cleaning cloth, though the water must be cold by now. Rufe rose and wet the cloth anyway, warming it before the fire for a few moments to remove some of the chill before wiping them both off.

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