by Zaya Feli
“Oh?”
“She wants me to help her unite our kingdoms.” It was Ren's turn to frown. When Evalyne had first proposed her idea to him, suggesting Ren as the key piece to push for alliance and peace between the nations, the idea had seemed a good one, but Ren had known he wouldn't be able to follow through. Only now, Anik was back with a cure that'd keep Ren out of the cold, dark soil. Everything he had brushed off as impossible lay open to him again. Ren blew out a breath.
“It's not a bad idea. I can't think of anyone more qualified,” Anik said.
Ren blinked, looking back at him. “Really?”
“Really,” Anik said, and the smile he gave Ren was full of assurance.
* * *
Fenn came into view above the hills, its towers stretching skyward, seeming to drag the rest of the fort with it until the whole thing lay before them like a sleeping bull. It was built of rough, dark stone and looked like it could withstand a barrage for hours without breaking.
“It looks strong, but it has its flaws,” Evalyne said, steering her horse closer to Ren. “It's built for defence, but isn't particularly good at fighting back. I've been told my great-great grandfather ordered it erected in a rush in an effort to keep Fraynean forces out of Skarlan.”
For the first time, Ren could allow himself to relax approaching a fort. Evalyne assured them that Lady Tilla, who ruled Fenn, had been an ally of hers for years, supporting Evalyne in secret against Halvard's schemes. They didn't have to fight their way in and they didn't have to fight to stay. For once, they could enter a fort, eat and rest in friendly company, and leave without having to run for their lives. It felt like a luxury.
Lady Tilla greeted them in the courtyard and didn't look twice at the number of Lowlanders filing through the double gates. Neither did the guards. Ren might have thought they'd been dropped into an alternate world if it hadn't been for the servants flitting about and casting anxious glances in the direction of the Lowlanders.
“There's room in the barracks for your men, and I'll have my staff open the dining hall,” Lady Tilla said, taking Evalyne into her arms and embracing her like a mother. Tilla was a round, soft woman, her grey hair drawn into a braid, but Ren could tell she had the capacity to be stern. Her green eyes shone with strength. Ren supposed you'd need a good supply of strength to stand up against the ruler of your nation, even in secret. Lady Tilla could be executed for it. “You're welcome to as many of our guest rooms as you need,” she said. “Let my head of staff know which rooms to prepare and they'll get to it while we eat.”
They ate together in Lady Tilla's private dining room – himself, Anik, Evalyne, Rafya, Kana, Jayce, and Thais. Ilias too, whom Lady Tilla had spotted from across the courtyard and dragged with her up the steps because, as she said, he looked like someone who could use a good meal. Valkon and Cainon had been invited, but preferred to eat with their men.
Ilias wasn't the only one being pampered by Lady Tilla. Thais, who had been tired and subdued for days perked up under the attention of the kind lady, politely taking honey bread, sausages, and flavoured rice onto his plate as they were offered.
The atmosphere around the table was warm and pleasant. They talked and laughed. Ilias, who sat next to Jayce, helped Jayce cut his steak and the two of them shared a private smile. It felt like home, like family. For a few hours, it was easy to forget the reality outside the thick stone walls, but it also made Ren think about Berin and Keelan and everyone else who had been left behind. Ren locked eyes with Jayce and he could tell Jayce knew what he was thinking. Still, Jayce offered him a smile and Ren smiled back, accepting a refill of his cup. The only one not affected by the mood was Anik. He sat on Ren's left, working through his plate of grilled steak with a thoughtful expression. When Ren placed his hand on Anik's knee under the table and gave it a squeeze, Anik met his eyes and offered him a soft smile, but stayed quiet.
It didn't occur to Ren to order separate rooms for himself and Anik. When they retreated to rest, he and Anik walked side by side down the quiet, torch-lit corridors to the chambers they were meant to share.
It was a guest room fit for royalty, but in the functional, subtly stylish manner of Skarlan décor. The furniture was all corners and edges, not rounded and engraved in Fraynean fashion. The thick rug on the floor wasn't particularly pleasing to the eye, but was soft and warded off the cold of the stone floor underneath. There was only one bed, wide and covered in more blankets than Ren had ever seen. Ren's gaze lingered there. The two of them might have shared a bed in Sekara if it hadn't been for Ren spending the night in Lord Elgrin's chambers. He wondered if it really would have turned out that way, or if Anik would have dragged his blankets and pillow onto the floor by the fire instead.
Now, Anik made no move to do so. There was no balcony, but an alcove against a pair of tall, wide windows offered a place to recline. Anik climbed up to sit there, opening his riding jacket and tugging on the fabric of his undershirt to loosen the collar. The sight gave Ren pause. It looked so much like the first night they had spent together, in the inn in Teu, when Anik had sat on the window sill all night.
Ren turned to pour them both cups of tea from the kettle that had been placed on the mahogany side table, but Anik's voice made him pause.
“My village is four days away, in that direction.”
Ren looked up.
Anik was gazing out over the woodland south of Fenn. Even from this height, it was impossible to see beyond the trees.
“What's it called?” Ren asked, taking a cup of tea carefully in each hand and carrying them to the alcove.
Anik thanked him softly and waited until Ren had settled in the alcove next to him, their sides touching. “Filisa.”
“That's a pretty name,” Ren said, tone as hushed as Anik's. He wrapped his hands around the cup of tea to warm them. “What's it like?”
“Sunny,” Anik said. “The fields are full of red and blue flowers in the summer.” He closed his eyes as if to better remember. “There was a large forest right up against the village. I used to love playing there when I was a child.” He sighed, opening his eyes again. “Halvard had the entire forest cut down in under a year. They told us he was building a bigger army. Barracks, weapons... We should have known a war was underway.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. Taking a sip of his tea, he placed the cup between his legs and leaned forward to pull off his riding jacket and drop it across a plump pillow.
Ren put down his cup, too. “You said your back's doing better. Mind if I take a look?”
Anik looked at him, hand halfway to his cup of tea. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of getting me undressed?”
Ren parted his lips, but no sound came out. He was so used to Anik's guarded resistance that this new, joking tone caught him entirely off guard. “Obviously,” he finally managed, and felt the way his cheeks reddened. Shit, it was as if he was fifteen again.
Anik laughed and moved his cup of tea out of the way before shifting in the cramped space, gripping the edge of his white shirt to pull it over his head.
Ren was prepared, only he really wasn't. He couldn't help his wince at the sight of the angry red lines across Anik's skin. They had healed well. All the wounds were long closed and the scabs were gone, but the smooth lines stood out so clearly still that Ren could trace nearly every one. Thirty-seven. He reached out.
Anik's skin was warm against the tips of his fingers. Anik flinched faintly at the touch, but didn't move away.
Ren swallowed. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.” Anik looked over his shoulder. His gaze was steady. “You didn't do this.”
“But-”
“No, Ren. I chose this.”
They stared at each other for a long time. When Ren didn't say anything else, Anik relaxed, shoulder resting against Ren's.
“Thank you,” Ren said instead. He was very aware of the beating of his heart, of every breath he took. He never felt nervous like this, but with Anik, he did. Ren raised his gaze to
Anik's profile. He wanted to ask him about the kiss. Had he liked it? Did he want to do it again? Was kissing all it was going to be, or was there something more between them? They hadn't talked about it since their midnight reunion and Ren wasn't sure what to think. The horseshoe necklace lay against Anik's bare chest, close to his heart. He hadn't taken it off since Ren had given it to him.
Next to the shining necklace, the pale scar that Ren had first seen on the way to Stag's Run cut its jagged way up the front of Anik's shoulder. When Ren looked back, Anik was watching him curiously.
“You said Halvard gave you that scar,” Ren said. Anik had refused to talk about it before. Maybe it was a memory he didn't want to share, but Ren felt he shouldn't simply sit and stare without a word. “When you were a slave?”
“No,” Anik said, dragging out the word. He covered the jagged line with a hand, but Ren got the sense that it wasn't to shield it from view, but rather to stop the memory of the pain it had caused.
“It was before that. It's...” Anik's brow furrowed and he clenched his jaw. “I-”
“You don't have to tell me,” Ren said.
Anik lowered his hand. “I'll tell you once we've left Iskaal. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Anik sighed, resting his head back against the wall. “I never wanted to go back there. Ever.”
“You're not going to be alone,” Ren said, because he didn't know what else to say.
Anik turned towards Ren, the corner of his mouth curling up. “I know. I'm glad you're coming too.”
Ren's heart beat a heavy rhythm against his chest. He might have blushed again.
Still, the furrow between Anik's brows didn't ease. It was Ren who had put it there, so maybe he should be the one to take it away. At least, that was what he told himself when he raised his hand to Anik's chin, fingers following the line of his jaw until he was cupping Anik's face. Ren took a moment to simply watch him. Anik sat very still, face turned towards him and eyes closed. He could put Ren on his back in the dirt before Ren could even blink, but like this, Anik was soft and still.
Ren leaned in slowly, afraid to disturb the air between them. He let his cheek brush Anik's. They sat close together, leaning against each other. Ren could feel Anik's feathery breath against the side of his face. “I want to kiss you again,” he whispered.
Anik said nothing, but Ren felt him press against him, ever so slightly.
“Can I?” Ren asked, words barely spoken, hardly more than an exhale.
“Yes.”
Ren didn't lean back, but turned his head and pressed a kiss to the spot within reach, the soft patch of skin under Anik's ear. He did it slowly, letting his lips linger there, and he felt Anik exhale, tilting his chin up to grant access.
Ren kissed him again, closer to his throat. Something stirred in him, the desire to know where Anik liked to be kissed, how he liked to be touched. Which parts of his body would make him soften when stroked gently. Ren was good at that – finding people's sweet spots. Now, more than anything, he yearned to find Anik's.
No, he couldn't simply throw himself into it. He'd had many passing lovers, but Anik was different. Anik was layers of protection and walls of defences that had to be passed one by one. To leap to the centre in one go would be to risk his trust. So when Ren's hand travelled down Anik's bare chest and found the hard plane of tensing muscle, he withdrew, opening his eyes.
Anik's eyes were hooded, a soft flush colouring his cheeks. His movements were slower than usual when he raised his head to meet Ren's eyes and even that little observation made Ren smile.
“It's getting late,” Ren said finally. “We should get some sleep.”
Anik hummed in reply, a sleepy kind of sound.
Ren climbed out of the alcove, aware of Anik's gaze lingering on him as he wandered over to the fire, toeing off his boots to let them dry in the heat, then sat on the edge and pulled his undershirt off. Slipping under the blankets, he wondered for a moment if Anik was going to spend all night sitting by the window like he had in Teu. Then he felt the bed dip and heard the rustle of fabric behind him. He thought it'd be impossible to fall asleep knowing Anik's warm body was just a few inches away, but he must have, because the next thing he remembered was his own shaking limbs and the blood on his hands.
“What did you do?” Hellic's voice made Ren flinch. It was high with fear.
“I-I didn't mean to. I...” Ren's breath hitched. Words failed him.
The apple quivered where it sat, unmarked by Ren's arrow. The boy's head tilted forward and the apple rolled off and landed on the grass with a thud. The sounds that came from him were horrible, heart-wrenching. He pressed a small, shaking hand to his shoulder where the arrow had pierced his flesh and pinned him to the tree, just above the collarbone, so close to the throat. The arrowhead had been heavy and serrated, tearing at him at it went through. With tears streaming down his face, he begged them for help, but all Ren could hear was his own racing heart.
Ren dropped the bow, turned, and ran.
He raced over the field, through the long grass towards the castle riding course, through the fence, and onto the sand on the other side. He heard Hellic calling his name, but he didn't stop.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Ren!”
Ren jerked awake, nearly head-butting Anik as he pushed himself onto his elbows. His body was covered in a light sheen of sweat and he narrowed his eyes against the morning light streaming in through the windows.
“You were having a bad dream,” Anik said, letting his hand slide off Ren's shoulder.
“Oh.” Ren ran a hand over his face. How many times had he had this dream now? A dozen? He didn't want to think about it. It was just a nightmare. “I'm okay. Sorry, I did I wake you?”
Anik lay close to him, propped on one elbow, their sides nearly touching. He shook his head, soft, wavy hair falling over his shoulder. His cheeks were faintly flushed from sleep. “I was awake. Someone ran down the corridor,” he said, angling his chin towards the door.
Ren turned to follow his gaze, listening. It was quiet now. “Maybe one of the servants had an accident. Or maybe someone really had to piss,” he said, chuckling in an attempt to rid himself of the chill of the dream.
“Want to go get some breakfast?” Anik asked, sitting up.
Ren let out a sound of pleasure. “Oh, a real breakfast. I almost forgot about that. If it's as good as Lady's Tilla's dinner last night, I might have to kiss her cook.”
That made Anik laugh. “Maybe give them a warning, first.”
Getting out of bed, Ren stuck his hands into his boots. A night by the fire had done the trick. They were dry inside. So were his bag and the rest of his clothes.
“Ah, you really learn to appreciate dry footwear after a storm like that,” Ren said over his shoulder, lacing up his boots. A part of his mind couldn't seem to detach itself from the image of Anik in bed, sleep-warm and relaxed. Ren hadn't noticed it before, during their time camping out.
Anik stood by the windows, pulling on a clean shirt. “You might even get to enjoy it for a while. The storm has moved east into Frayne.”
“Really? I thought you were right here at Fenn,” Ren said with a smirk, pushing his arms through the sleeves of his riding jacket.
Anik raised both eyebrows at him, arms crossed over his chest. “That's the lamest joke I've ever heard.”
“I'm funny,” Ren argued, wiggling a finger at him.
“That's the exact reason I didn't tell you what my name means before.”
The door slammed open.
A servant stood in the doorway, eyes round and cheeks flushed with exertion. “Your highness! M-my lord! Your physician begs you to come at once to the crown prince's rooms.”
Ren's heart raced as he followed the servant out of their room and down the corridor. Anik was right behind him, catching up with long strides. The door to Thais' room was open. A servant rushed out, startling when she bumped into Ren. Ren glanced at her, trying to read her e
xpression. Her face was pale and she cast her eyes down, mumbling an apology when he pushed past.
“Jayce?”
Jayce stood bowed over the bed, shielding Thais from Ren's view. At the sound of his name, Jayce straightened and turned, stepping into Ren's path with his hand on Ren's shoulder. “Slow down.”
“What is it?” Ren hissed. With only one hand, Jayce couldn't stop him. Out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw Jayce direct a hard look at Anik, and something silent passed between them that made Anik grip both of Ren's arms. But it was too late.
Thais lay in bed like he was sleeping, eyes closed. If it hadn't been for the blood, the scene would have been peaceful, but blood was everywhere. It stained cloths strewn on the floor and the bedside table, droplets speckling the pale bedsheets and smeared across Thais' cheeks and lips.
“I didn't know,” Jayce said, and it sounded like his voice came from somewhere far away. “Ren, I'm so sorry. He never told me he was sick. I never noticed...”
“The coughing sickness,” Ren said, hardly recognizing his own voice. Then a thought struck him and he twisted in Anik's grip. “Anik has medicine. He got it from the south. It works.” He looked between Jayce and Anik, trying to free his arm from Anik's steel grip. “Let go of me!” he cried. “Go get the plant! The wolfsblood! It can cure him!”
“Ren,” Jayce said, trying to calm him with a hand on his shoulder.
Ren hadn't realised how hard he was fighting until Anik's fingers digging into his arms began to ache. “Don't just stand there. Get the plant.” He was shouting now.
“Ren, it's too late.”
“Let go of me!”
Anik didn't let go. Instead, he wrapped his arms tighter around Ren's shoulders and drew him close, holding Ren's head against his chest.
Ren's whole body resisted the embrace. Why didn't they understand? Why weren't they listening? “He's not sick. He hasn't been sick. He's been fine. He's just tired.” His voice was muffled against Anik's chest. Part of him was aware of how absurd his words were, but he couldn't connect the thoughts in his head. Tears welled up in his eyes and ran down his cheeks and there was nothing he could do to stop them. “You don't understand. Y-you don't. I...” Dizziness and nausea rose inside him like a tidal wave and he felt his knees collapse, but he didn't hit the floor. Anik held his weight, lowering them both onto the cool stone without losing his grip.
