by J. M. Snyder
Part of him wanted to troop down to the guards’ quarters and string up Giles on his insubordinate behavior, but that would only be playing into their hands. It would be a waste of time, teaching that man manners. And Tovin waits.
Perhaps the knights knew where Tovin would be spending the night, or at least suspected. Maybe sending the page was nothing but a little joke designed to interrupt the lovers…
Well, it worked. He pulled the ties of his robe tighter around his waist; let the knights have their laugh—he would have words with Giles in the morning. “Tonight I see no one, do you hear?”
The boy nodded. As Amery started to close the door, he stopped himself and added, “No one. I don’t even care if the Cyrians attack—they’ll wait until dawn. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the page said quickly. “I’ll see to it you aren’t disturbed.”
“Too late,” Amery told him. “Make sure it doesn’t happen a second time or I’ll have you demoted to scrubbing out the garderobes.”
The boy nodded again, and stepped back as if afraid Amery would snatch him to clean his own latrine this evening. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Amery slammed the door shut, cutting off the page’s fumbled apology, and threw the lock. On his way back to the bedroom, he discarded the robe, tossing it to the floor. “You best not toy with me again,” he called out to Sir Tovin as he entered his bedroom. “I’m in no mood for games. I’ll not have it…”
He stopped in midsentence and stared, much in the same manner the knight had when he’d first entered the room. Tovin had used the opportune interruption to remove his boots and breeches, and Amery couldn’t take his gaze off his lover. Naked, Tovin lay on his side across the bed, the bare expanse of his skin dusky in the candlelight. With his head propped in one hand, he used his other hand to fondle his swollen penis, squeezing until he moaned. “Tovin,” Amery managed, his gaze flickering between that hard cock and the knight’s half-lidded eyes.
Tugging on the tip of his erection, Tovin leaned back and whispered, “Come here, my prince.”
Amery stumbled on the dais in his haste to reach the bed, but Tovin caught him in strong arms and kissed his trembling lips. “We shall not be disturbed again,” Amery promised. “I forbid it.”
“So assertive,” Tovin sighed. He smoothed a hand down Amery’s side, easing the regent back against the bed. “I love that in a ruler. What’s this?”
His fingers danced along the length of Amery’s dick, teasing it erect. “My ruler,” Amery laughed. When Tovin’s hand closed around it, he leaned back against the pillows and thrust his hips into his lover’s grip. “It’s twelve if it’s an inch.”
Tovin’s laughter bubbled like sweet champagne between them. “You jest,” he murmured, kissing the words into the hollow of Amery’s throat. “I’ll warrant eight, perhaps. A good length to hold with both hands, to be sure. But twelve would be stretching it.”
“I’m the regent,” Amery pointed out. “If I say it’s twelve…”
His words dissolved into breathy moans as Tovin’s fingers slipped below his balls—in his absence, the knight had oiled his hands with some of the perfumed scents Amery kept on the bedside table. He could smell patchouli and musk, and a spicy undercurrent of jasmine that made him feel lethargic and drunk. When Tovin’s middle finger rimmed his trembling hole with a gentle motion, leaving an oily trail of perfume behind, Amery clutched at the sheets beneath him and rose off the bed with a shuddery breath. As that finger eased into him, Amery clenched his buttocks, trying to draw it farther in. “Please,” he sobbed, writhing beneath Tovin’s touch. “Please—”
“Please, what?” Tovin purred.
Amery demanded, “Kiss me.” When Tovin didn’t comply immediately, he bucked against the finger rimming him and added, “Now.”
With a gentle laugh, the knight teased, “You command it?”
Before Amery could reply, Tovin’s finger entered him completely, up to the digit’s base. But Amery’s gasp of delight was smothered by the damp lips that covered his, silencing him in an ardent kiss. The knight’s tongue licked into the regent, claiming him, as his finger fucked between Amery’s buttocks. Releasing his grip on the bed sheets, Amery raised his hands to cradle Tovin’s face and keep his lover close. Where their bodies touched, flames seemed to erupt between them, igniting Amery’s flesh and fanning his lust. When their lips parted, he sighed, “Yes, yes,” the words mere whispers between Tovin’s loving kisses.
“Yes, what?” Tovin murmured.
“Take me,” Amery begged.
The knight pressed him back to the bed and positioned himself above the regent; Amery spread his legs wide as Tovin guided himself between them. The finger was replaced by the slicked tip of Tovin’s cock, and Amery raised his legs to grant his lover entry. “Please,” he sighed. He draped his legs around Tovin’s hips, crossing his ankles behind the knight’s back, squeezing his knees to draw his lover near. “Tovin, please. Love me—”
Another silencing kiss, this one accompanied by a thrust that filled Amery with his lover’s hard, thick length. At the sudden burn of entry, the regent’s cock spasmed between them, then Tovin leaned Amery back against his pillows, finding a steady rhythm that pushed the rest of the world away. As the knight moved within him, his kisses stole Amery’s breath and the regent clung to his lover, arms tight around Tovin’s waist, legs clutched around his hips. Together they rocked in the ancient rhythm of love. When his knight finally shoved deep in him and came in a hot rush that filled Amery up inside, the regent climaxed again, leaving them both breathless and satiated.
For the first time in months, Amery felt the weight of his title fall from him as he slept in his lover’s tight embrace.
Chapter 6
Dawn found the knights mounted and ready to ride. Tovin stood by Berik’s steed and kicked at the cobbled stones. “He has a point,” Berik said, nodding at Amery, who spoke with Giles across the courtyard. “You are needed here.”
Tovin scowled. “I should like the chance to fight. Is that too much to ask?”
Silently, he admitted to himself, But yes, I would rather stay here.
Because Berik had indicated Amery, Tovin thought it safe to look at the regent. He avoided doing so in public, unless they were fighting. But the sun was in his eyes, and when he squinted, he could have been looking at anything—Sir Giles perhaps, or the black crow that roosted on a nearby pillar. Shielding his eyes, he watched the way the morning sun sparkled off Amery’s hair, turning the dark red into a bright flame. Lust coiled in his stomach and he cleared his throat, turning away before Berik could see the desire in his eyes.
Berik laughed easily and shook the reins free from Tovin’s hand. “Be careful,” he warned with a grin. “The Cyrians may break through our defense and come knocking on the castle gates. And then where would you be? Not so ready to fight, I think.”
“Shut up,” Tovin growled, but he laughed at his friend’s weak attempt at humor.
A thin tension ran through the courtyard like a current sweeping out of the north. Tovin imagined he could hear the clash of swords on the faint breeze that ruffled the horses’ manes, and though part of him longed to ride with his friends, he wanted to stay at the castle. He knew he had to—he would trust Amery’s safety to no one but himself. Even if it had not been his duty to protect the regent, he would not leave his lover’s side. “Kill some of the bastards for me.”
“Will do,” Berik replied. Spurring his horse, he trotted out of the courtyard.
Lohden’s steed fell into step beside Berik’s. Tovin laughed to see the book already open in his friend’s hand. “What?” Lohden called out with a slow grin. “The horse knows which way to go.”
Moments later Giles rode out at a full gallop, headed west to rally his men against the encroaching enemy. Finally two lesser knights left for the southland with orders to retrieve the rest of Tovin’s men. Tovin watched them ride out, part of his heart riding with them. He alm
ost didn’t hear the faint footsteps that crossed the courtyard to stand behind him. “Well,” Amery murmured, his voice suddenly so damn close that Tovin’s entire body flushed, “we’re alone.”
Turning, Tovin gave the regent a brave smile. Amery touched his hand, then pulled away, a furtive gesture that left his skin burning. Keeping his voice low between the two of them, Amery asked, “Would you really want to be reassigned here?”
“We’d never sleep apart,” Tovin commented. That thought alone was worth leaving the southland, in his opinion. If he weren’t a knight with an army of men who relied on him, he would have moved to the kingdom’s seat long ago.
Amery laughed. “Then it’s settled. As of today, you command the castle guard. When this threat is dispersed, you’ll stay here.”
“The servants should love that,” Tovin said with a wink. “We’ll kill each other, they’ll say.”
“Let them talk,” Amery replied. He placed a hand on Tovin’s shoulder and squeezed gently as they watched their friends disappear in the distance.
* * * *
Later that evening, Amery stormed towards the war room. Those who saw him knew he was going to speak with Sir Tovin, and they scurried out of his way before his wrath could fall on them. All day long, the two had avoided each other, but the servants heard of the knight’s reassignment and they feared the arguments to come.
Amery saw the trepidation in his servants’ eyes as he passed, but it simply fueled his anger. If only I could leave this all behind. It wasn’t the first time since his father’s death that he wished he could shirk off the duty of his office—he had always suspected the crown wasn’t for him. Much as he loved the posh castle life, he couldn’t imagine finding someone to share it with, someone who wasn’t Tovin. And the kingdom would never allow that.
He turned down the corridor that led to the war room, taking the corner a bit too sharply, and bumped into Bellona, whose eyes widened in surprise. “Your Highness,” she cried amid the rustle of her skirts.
Some part of Amery wondered if she hadn’t been waiting for him. There was something in her demeanor that suggested this encounter had not been left to chance. “Bellona, madam,” he said, giving her a curt nod. As she made a show of straightening her dress, he tried to slip around her. Tovin awaited. “If you will excuse me…”
She caught his elbow, her grip surprisingly strong for such a small, feminine hand. Perhaps the weight of the gaudy rings she wore added to her strength. “One moment, Your Highness,” she purred.
There was nothing kittenish about her voice—it was the deadly purr of a tiger trying to lull its victim before attack. Amery tried to shake his arm free from her hand, only to feel her nails sink into him like claws. “Bellona,” he said again, this time giving her the slight bow he knew she expected. “Please, I must have words with Sir Tovin about the castle’s defenses. If you desire an audience—”
“Your father never made me wait.”
Bellona’s pale gray eyes narrowed as she watched him. Not for the first time, Amery suspected perhaps his father had been bewitched by this woman, with her proud bearing and haughty face. Charmed by her, to be sure, maybe even enamored.
But Amery himself was immune to her feminine wiles, a fact he thought she might already know. Still, she was his adviser. He should listen to what she had to say, with or without a scheduled audience. His raging libido would have to wait. Already her presence alone had tamped his sense of urgency. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile to keep up appearances. “My father was a better man than I,” Amery admitted. “But he was never one to make a lady wait, especially one such as yourself.”
The grip on his arm relaxed, and Bellona dipped into a quick curtsey. “You honor me with your words.”
Amery wanted to scream—were all politics this inane? But he forced his smile wider and told himself to make it quick. “I try. Was there something in particular you wished to discuss?”
His words sounded harsh to his own ears, and Bellona’s mouth pursed in thought as she studied him. He resisted the urge to squirm beneath her stare—he was no longer a little boy caught running in the corridors; he was regent. The thought straightened his spine a bit, drawing him up to his full height.
Bellona noticed. “Your Highness,” she murmured, pulling his arm to her and ensconcing it with both her own. She cuddled up to him as if they were old friends, and he resisted the urge to move away.
But when she spoke, she lowered her voice, forcing him to lean closer to hear what she had to say. “I know you have a lot on your mind right now,” she told him, patting his arm in a motherly way that he found very distracting. “But I believe you should seriously consider assuming the crown—”
With an exasperated sigh, Amery cried, “I don’t have the time—”
“The people need you,” Bellona continued. When he tried to wrest free from her grip, she only held on tighter. “They need to see someone leading them to battle, not cowering behind his knights. They need a figurehead.”
“They need a martyr.” Amery shook his head. “I’ll not do it, Bellona. I cannot make such a decision at this point in time. It’s the rest of my life you’re talking about here. I can’t just rush into it—”
“Who’s rushing you?” Bellona wanted to know.
You, for starters. But Amery kept that thought to himself.
At his silence, she pointed out, “You’ve known since birth that you would rule over Pharr. It’s time to put away your boyhood, Amery, and I say this in the gentlest way possible, but you need to move past childish distractions and—dare I? Common pleasures, to put it nicely, and claim your rightful position in this world.”
Common… Anger flared in Amery, incensing him. There was nothing common about how he felt for Tovin, or the knight’s love in return. Pulling free from Bellona’s grasp, Amery glared at her. “Advisor or not,” he spat, “you speak out of turn, madam. I shall take the crown when I feel I am ready—or I may abdicate, again, when I must. Not when you think I should.”
One jeweled hand reached out to smooth down the front of his coverlet with a mother’s touch, straightening his buttons. “A knight is not worthy of a king’s love,” Bellona murmured. Amery shoved her hand away, but it drifted to his collar instead, straightening it. “He is a commoner, Your Highness. An admirable fighter, to be sure, but a soldier nonetheless. Nothing more than a pawn to be played in this game of war. A proper king needs a queen by his side, a lady of regal bearing, one with royal blood. Women love in ways with which a man could never compete.”
If all women were as wily and manipulative as Bellona, Amery would never allow such a viper into his heart. “Your advice is just that,” he told her, moving out of reach. “Words, my lady, and nothing more. Good day.”
Before she could reply, he turned away. But he only took a few steps before another thought struck and he stopped. With a glance over his shoulder at Bellona, he told her, “And you know nothing about the man beneath the armor, I assure you.”
Her eyes widened, but he didn’t think his admission came as a surprise. She herself had brought Tovin up, which meant she knew of the regent’s indiscretion. Which is why she’s pressuring me to take the crown—so I will be forced to leave him behind.
I’ll not do it.
Amery’s heels rang off the stone floor as he set a furious pace down the hall. The black mood that had been hanging over him returned, no longer merely a pretense maintained for the servants’ sake.
* * * *
Inside the war room, Tovin stood behind a long, low table covered with maps. A young squire leaned beside him—when Amery entered the room, his hands clenched into fists when he saw the squire, the same boy Berik had flirted with the night before. He stood too close to Tovin, as if hoping the knight would look up from his work to notice him. Too damn close…the look in his eyes was dulled with lust, and as Amery watched, the squire’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and one hand drifted to his crotch to rub obscenely at the bul
ge already straining his breeches.
“You,” Amery spat. Both Tovin and the squire jumped at the regent’s voice. When Tovin noticed the squire so close, he took a step away, distancing himself. Pointing at the empty corridor behind him, Amery ordered, “Out.”
The squire frowned, confusion marring his young features. He glanced at Tovin, as if the knight might somehow intercede on his behalf, but Tovin ignored him and watched Amery instead. The boy’s hesitation only fueled the rage warring inside Amery. “Are you deaf?” he snapped. “Get out. If I have to ask again, you will hang for such disrespect.”
Quickly, the squire gathered up a handful of maps, sputtering apologies. “I am sorry, Your Highness,” he said with a deep bow that dropped half his scrolls to the floor. “Your presence startled me—”
“He has that effect on people,” Tovin drawled.
Amery saw the corner of his lover’s mouth twitch in an effort not to grin. Keeping his voice stern, he warned, “I shall deal with you next. Once this miserable pimple is out of my sight. Why have you not yet left, squire?”
“I…I’m trying.” The squire squatted on the floor, scrambling with maps that refused to stay put in his trembling hands. “I shall see to it the guards get these, Sir Tovin. If you need me for anything further—”
Amery sighed, exasperated. “He won’t, trust me. Leave the maps where they lie and leave my sight immediately. Or you will be flogged!”
Crablike, the squire scuttled through the doorway and disappeared down the hall. Amery slammed the door shut behind him, throwing the bolt for added measure. As he kicked his way through the maps littering the floor, the amusement sparkling like dew in Tovin’s eyes only made him frown harder.
“Your Highness,” the knight purred, his tone of voice much more soothing than Bellona’s had been. When Amery was close enough, the knight reached out to take his hand and pulled him near. “To what do I owe this honor?”
Amery wasn’t ready to be placated yet. “He was all over you,” he fumed. “How could you not notice—”
