by Hurri Cosmo
"As much as I hate to leave this moment, we have to go." Joron nodded and together they walked out of the hall toward the throne room.
* * * *
The rest of the day moved swiftly. Joron was surprised to find out the King of Claymoor Doom had left twenty of his own men to help with whatever needed to be done. Diagus handed their care over to Joron and he was extremely grateful. Joron immediately dispersed them into the crowds to help support his own troops. It was a great relief as it then allowed for breaks, meals, and sleep. He would have to think of some way of thanking King Aric for his generosity.
Later that evening, Joron was finally able to escape to his little servant room. Once again, he calmed himself to the noises of the coming night. He tried hard to pass through the hallways unnoticed. It wasn't all that difficult. Most of the servants were still present at the reception--serving, cleaning, and attending. The sounds that greeted him were mainly those of children. He quickly changed into looser fitting clothes, not wanting to sleep naked tonight. He needed to be up before the dawn again, since his destination this time was the castle of Claymoor Doom. He had been disappointed tonight he never caught sight of the man who kissed him so passionately in the woods. Why in the world did this man fill his thoughts? Why did that kiss make him shudder every time he thought of it? Even now, after the grueling day he had, his sex jumped to attention the second Joron allowed himself to remember those hands on him, embracing him, holding him close to that hard body... Oh.
He totally understood Diagus and his "ways" as he put it, but was it possible he was the same? Did he prefer men? He had absolutely no experience in it so it was a good question. He had to admit, though, when occasionally he was confronted by a woman trying to attract his attention it did not necessarily excite him, but did it mean he didn't like them at all? He had never felt this way about anyone else, did it matter he was a man?
No, it didn't matter. That part didn't bother him. He laughed. It would need to stay secret from Diagus. But what did bother him was the fact he didn't know who the man was, didn't even know his name, and if the man ever found out the one he held up against that tree in the woods with that incredible kiss was actually a man, he would run like hell in the opposite direction. That's what bothered him. And there was nothing he could do about it.
However, being able to explore a relationship, especially with a man, was a luxury he couldn't afford. When he got up in only a few hours, he would be once again on a mission to help someone in need. It was what he did. To have any kind of relationship would be ludicrous at this point. No lover would ever understand or accept this type of behavior and that was strictly if he felt he could tell the person.
Soon he would be on his way to Claymoor Doom--a kingdom that was on the other side of the world, as far as he was concerned. He did know how to find it, although he had never been that far in his entire adult life. If he pushed hard, it would be a three-day trip, depending on the weather. He had already informed the kitchen servants he needed provisions for three days but he didn't tell them where he was going. His own men would be upset because he had no intention of bringing any guards yet again and Kinnabe, the only other one in the castle who knew his plans, was sworn to secrecy. He wished he had thought about it ahead of time, before he let Kinnabe know. The less anyone knew, the less chance of anyone else suffering the consequences. All the things he did before--the medicines and the food--all of that could be argued belonged to him as well since, at the moment, he was still a part of the royal family.
But this, what he planned to do now, came closer to treason than all the rest. This was one of the very first dictates Diagus made as king and Joron was going to purposely attempt to break it. The fewer names attached to what he was doing, the fewer heads would roll in the end. More than ever, he had to do this alone.
The morning came way too quickly. It was still dark, which made it much more difficult. He had little to do...only dress, collect the provisions, which should be laid out for him, and saddle his horse. He had planned it so he would not encounter anyone. That way, news of him being gone would not spread for several hours, if it did at all. He actually hoped this first day after the funeral he would not be missed. He had given all the necessary instructions to his people, including King Aric's men, to keep things running smoothly until all visitors were gone, which should happen over the next few days. Hopefully, if things went like he believed they would, he would be back by the time things were returning to normal.
He arrived at the stables, listening intently to the early morning. He quickly saddled his good horse and mounted, kicking him into a gallop as soon as the path allowed. His desire was to not only go through the pass today but through Ghost Pines Parrish, and be well into Claymoor Doom territory before having to stop. He would have to ride hard in order to do it.
It would be a very long day.
Chapter 8
TaParn entered the office of the King of Claymoor Doom and bowed his head once to the man behind the ornate desk, who was surrounded by documents, maps, and scrolls.
"Sire, His Royal Highness, Prince Joron Amar, is here to see you."
Aric's eyebrows both rose at the mention of any Amar. The funeral was only four days ago, which meant the boy would have had to have left bright and early the day after and pushed like hell to get here. He scoffed at his assistant. "What does he want?"
TaParn smiled. "He says it is a personal matter he will only discuss with you, sire, and he says it is rather...urgent."
"Really?" Aric shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "What could the son and brother of idiots possibly have to discuss with me that is urgent?"
"I am sure I have no idea, sire." TaParn's eyes flashed and the corner of his mouth turned up as if he held a delicious secret.
"Tell him to go away." Aric had no time for games.
TaParn evidently was not surprised, but then the man knew his king well. He looked back down to his work, fully expecting the man to take his leave. "There is one more thing, sire."
The king once again raised his head and then an eyebrow as he looked back up from his desk with irritation and nodded curtly to the man to go on.
"We have more information on the young servant you wanted us to investigate at Blade Rain Castle."
The king sat up straight in his plush chair. His assistant indeed had his full attention. "Garath has returned already?"
Aric had wanted to negotiate for the young man but still had no idea who he was. He had already negotiated for an elusive princess's hand at a very high price. Bargaining for a servant he hadn't even identified, would have been absurd. Aric had already been agitated with the need to leave his soon-to-be bride at Blade Rain but since he hadn't come to buy one, he had not been prepared. Until he was called home because of his son's illness, he fully intended to send for the agreed upon amount and wait in Blade Rain for it to arrive. Then he would not only have been able to meet the princess but take her with him as well. It also may have been enough time to figure out who the servant was and take him, too. Unfortunately, that did not happen. Now, maybe, he would still be able to kill two birds with one stone. When he returned to Blade Rain to collect his bride, he might be lucky enough to collect another servant as well.
"No, he is still on his assignment. This information was obtained without his help."
"Go on."
"We now know the young man's identity."
"Yes?"
TaParn looked as if he could hardly contain himself. "He is His Royal Highness, Prince Joron Amar."
Aric, normally completely in control of his emotions, could not keep the look of shock from his face. "What? Are you sure?" How could this be? He had trouble believing he had been attracted first to the prince, that waif of a boy he thought was a servant, then the princess? Something was wrong here, not quite fitting together.
"Yes, sire, very sure."
The king turned away from TaParn, allowing himself to think about this piece of information. The p
rince? The man he was so attracted to, and for over a year, was the prince? How could that be? He sighed. The fact he was related in any way to Diagus as well was too damn bad. Sudden anger at the young man, as if he could help who he was, rose up like bile. It was one thing to marry the princess, because it offered a solution to Ice Dragon Pass other than war and was as attractive as the woman was herself. Although in remembering his reaction to her when he kissed her, made that statement not altogether accurate.
However, he had truly thought the servant would give him many hours of pure pleasure. He had only ever imagined he was a domestic and that was all. Yes, a high ranking one, and he would give the man any position in his own castle as well to entice him to be under the same roof. He could never have imagined the rank was this high.
But what about that? What was the young prince doing then, seeming to sneak in and out of the castle, dressed in servants' clothes and using the servants' entrance? What was that all about? Well, the young man was waiting to speak to him. He would definitely give him an audience, because Aric had a few things to discuss as well.
Aric was amazed his sex had become hard, even now. His libido evidently intended to ignore the red flags that had gone up all over the place, along with extreme disappointment because he was a prince and not a servant boy at all. Obtaining possession was impossible.
So the young man had come to him about something urgent, huh? Well, that was fine. He would teach this boy a thing or two about urgency. His anger at the prince's family certainly didn't seem to cool his blood. In fact, it made it run that much hotter. He would not be gentle.
"Should I still turn him away, sire?"
"No! Take him to my private quarters. I will meet with him there." Aric did not miss the single raised eyebrow TaParn gave him, but the man simply nodded and left the office.
Yes, he would take this young man, have his way with him, and finally leave this year-long obsession behind him. Get his head back on straight. Even if he risked some fallout due to the fact the man was royalty, he didn't care at this point. He was confident if the Amar family was keen on marrying off their princess to the King of Claymoor Doom--and what royal family wouldn't be--he was sure there would be no trouble. And though he was definitely looking forward to bedding the girl, he was still so disappointed. The boy was who he was truly thinking about, fascinated with, fixated on. The servant. He had planned on training him to meet his needs, his wants, his every whim. Too damn bad. He had hoped the affair could have distracted him longer than this was obviously going to.
* * * *
Relel, King Aric's brother, had been the first royal to greet Joron, so it was no mystery the boy had been nervous when TaParn had originally walked into the room to see who had arrived without notice. After shooing Relel out, TaParn returned and saw Joron with his back to him, mumbling. It was too adorable how nervous and fidgety he was and he had totally melted TaParn's heart with his anxious plea to speak to the king. There was good reason for his apprehension after experiencing Relel. Like his brother, Relel was certainly not subtle or gentle and could be very overwhelming.
Relel had also been known to even impersonate King Aric at times. Lucky for Relel, he chose not to in this case.
So, after finding out Relel was not the king and being nearly molested in the process, Joron looked to TaParn. The boy resembled a small puppy staring up at him with those incredible green eyes after he voiced his request. Those eyes spoke of total trust and innocence, something he would come to regret now that he was in the lion's den. TaParn, of course, recognized him the second he saw him and was very curious what this "personal, urgent business" was, especially since he obviously felt compelled to "practice" before actually meeting the king. Because that is what the boy was doing.
TaParn walked up behind Joron, knowing the prince still had no idea TaParn had returned. Joron startled and turned quickly when TaParn cleared his throat. Amused, TaParn looked into those innocent eyes, noting the cheeks were turning red, and could not help but think this boy was too cute. TaParn bowed slightly. "Prince Joron Amar, the king will see you now. Please follow me."
* * * *
As they walked, Joron glanced into the rooms that were open, trying to establish a feel for the king's power and wealth. He had been quite amazed earlier when he finally rode into view of the massive structure that was this castle. He had, of course, heard it was large, ornate, and very beautiful but knowing that still did not prepare him for its grandeur.
Claymoor Doom had always been a rich kingdom. One of the largest, it boasted many natural resources. But he also knew the present king, who had been king since childhood, had also continued to accumulate wealth for the kingdom to the point he was fast becoming the high king--the one to go to. His holdings were vast and the castle furnishings did seem to show some of that.
Joron thought, moreover, the castle had most likely not changed much in many years. There was little show of wear but the furnishings were definitely older. The walls were hung with tapestries in warm and inviting colors. Some depicted wars and skirmishes, others balls and banquets. They didn't seem to be faded but they still had the classic look of age. They walked passed them so fast though, Joron had a difficult time being able to look closely at any of them.
Suddenly Joron knew he was completely lost. He had been paying so much attention to specific surroundings and what they looked like, he had not watched where they were going. At one point, they passed through double doors after a guard unlocked and opened them. Joron had been preoccupied with a particular painting that seemed to have Ice Dragon Pass as its subject and he totally missed the fact they had entered another part of the castle. Joron was becoming nervous again. Where were they going? He had believed the king was far back in the area where they had been, but he was being dragged down these long hallways into a part of the castle not meant for just anyone to see. He thought it was time to ask what was going on.
"Um...where exactly are you taking me?"
But the man ignored him.
Then Joron thought he knew exactly where they were. "Wait...is this... This is the private royal quarters of the castle." He reached out and took a hold of TaParn's sleeve and pulled. "Hey."
"Yes?" TaParn said hoarsely. He cleared his throat but kept walking.
"Isn't this strange? Does the king always conduct business in his private quarters?"
They had finally reached large, ornate double doors, which, upon their approach, had been opened by two guards. The scene beyond revealed a large lavishly furnished warm receiving room.
TaParn stopped in front of the entrance and turned to Joron. "Never." He held his hand out, palm up, toward the open doors indicating the prince should go in. "After you."
Joron stood staring at TaParn for a moment, not sure what to think or do. TaParn raised an eyebrow. Joron let out a breath he obviously had been holding and walked through the doors. Nervous or not, there was no choice. TaParn followed him in and the doors closed behind them. TaParn indicated some furniture facing a massive fireplace off to the right side of the room.
"Please sit down. The king will be here shortly." TaParn remained standing near the entrance with his hands clasped behind him.
Joron looked over at the area near the fireplace. There were two substantial chairs, each covered in thick fabrics and furs, big enough to be beds themselves. Though they dominated the area, the fireplace commanded more attention. It had a large cheery fire going in it, and Joron walked over to stand in front of it enjoying the warmth that emanated from it, especially after the long walk through those airy, deserted hallways.
So here he was, about to break the wedding engagement made by his brother for his sister to a king. Not just any king but the king. He wasn't going to kid himself. This could become unpleasant. It was one of the reasons Joron had encouraged his sister to elope the night before he left. If things went badly there would still be no going back because his sister would be married and gone and safe. He closed his eyes. He didn't
know how many times he went over it in his head. The three solid days of riding alone with no one to talk to, and the whole time only thinking about this moment and all that could go wrong, had made him jittery and short of breath. He hoped this king's sense of business was as good as he had heard because what he had to offer should speak to that. It was going to be the way he started this conversation.
Suddenly there was a noise behind him. He quickly turned to see the double doors opening once again and a large man swept into the room. The two guards who were at the door came in after him. Joron caught his breath as he looked at the impressive man who was obviously the king. He was wearing a simple black shirt over a well-developed chest. He had on black pants as well with black slippers. As plain as the clothes were, they were impeccably made. The materials were exquisite and the body they clung to was magnificent. But Joron's eyes were riveted to the man's amazing thighs. They were thick and strong and muscular and for some reason, he could not pull his eyes away. He wanted to touch those thighs, he wanted to taste them.
Joron was shocked at his own thoughts as he watched those thighs work and flex their way into the room. Joron forced his eyes up to notice the king's long, dark blond hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, framing his chiseled face...and that was where Joron's gaze stopped. His eyes flew open wide as recognition hit hard. This is the man who saved me, who kissed me! Oh gods, this is the man who had filled his dreams and nightmares and thoughts...and had for days and nights and...oh. But...it was when he was dressed as a woman.
Joron's mouth dropped open but absolutely no words came out.
The king continued his stride into the room, walking toward Joron, keeping a stoic expression. Stopping in front of one of the oversized chairs, he sat. He indicated to Joron, who still stood with wide eyes near the fireplace, to sit on the other.
