Change of Plans

by Addison Albright

  Marcelo and Efren didn’t linger long with any one person. They had a lot of ground to cover. Marcelo’s biggest takeaway from meeting with the servants was reinforcement of what Erich had said about being happy in Zioneven.

  Everyone was friendly, and moreover, they clearly admired and felt comfortable around Efren without detracting from the respect they showed him. All in all, the indoor tour reinforced his own instincts about his new life…and his new husband.

  Chapter 13: Surprise!

  Efren, the previous day

  Efren practically bounced as he and Marcelo approached the door to their suite of rooms. He hadn’t seen Dru’s setup, but had no doubt that it would be perfect. Dru never ceased to surprise him.

  Marcelo drew in a sharp breath upon opening the door. He turned to Efren with widened eyes. “You arranged this?”

  Efren peered over Marcelo’s shoulder. Dru—or possibly Lester—had done better than Efren had imagined. He’d arranged a table with a single Nutter Buzzer artfully surrounded by a several kinds of fresh fruit so that they looked like a flower bloom on each of two plates.

  A bottle of wine, two stemmed glasses, and two red roses adorned the small table’s center. A fire burned low in the hearth, still warming the room.

  Simple and understated, but romantic. Perfect.

  “Are those…?” Marcelo stepped toward the table. “They are!” He spun toward Efren, and candlelight reflected in his glistening eyes. “You had Mr. Tolly’s Nutter Buzzers brought all the way from Sheburat for me?”

  Efren followed Marcelo into the room as if gliding on a cloud. The pure joy radiating from Marcelo’s face was worth any amount of work.

  “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, my darling. But in truth, my own efforts in this endeavor were minimal. I made arrangements with Mr. Othes, and he coordinated the delivery. Dru set things up for us in here.”

  “Of course, dearest. I doubt either of us is overeager to travel the road to Sheburat again any time soon, and your time is too valuable to spend it on frivolous fancies for me.”

  Marcelo affected a gentle shudder, and a muscle twitched in Efren’s cheek as he pushed down grim memories that would hopefully fade with time.

  “Never underestimate the importance of your happiness to me.” Efren had difficulty putting his feelings into words, but Marcelo was brilliant at interpreting the feelings behind Efren’s gestures, and Efren never had any trouble reading Marcelo’s reactions. “But indeed, I am not looking forward to that tedious journey, although I do plan for us to join future diplomatic missions in years to come so you may visit with your family.”

  “I would love that.” Marcelo placed a hand on Efren’s jaw and peered into the center of his being. “You are the most thoughtful and considerate life companion anyone could wish for.” He paused and swallowed. “In my old life, I had no idea what I was missing.”

  Efren brushed his lips against Marcelo’s, then gestured to the table. “Are you ready to see how they survived the trip?”

  Marcelo tittered. “I am! And I think you will love these, too.”

  Efren opened the bottle of wine and poured two glassfuls. Efren lifted his in a toast. “To my lovely husband; may I always make your dreams come true.”

  Marcelo clinked his glass against Efren’s. “To my kind, handsome, brave husband; you’ve already made my dreams come true, and I dearly hope I will always bring joy to your life.”

  “You do, my darling. Daily.”

  They sipped their wine, then stared into each other’s eyes as each picked up their treasured Nutter Buzzer and took a bite.

  “Mmm.” Efren patted his belly. “Well worth the effort.”

  “The berries Dru selected complement the flavor perfectly.”

  “I believe he consulted Jeffery for suggestions.”

  “Smart.” Marcelo tilted his head and wore his dreamy smile. “Tell me, what part of our tour are you most looking forward to?”

  “That’s easy.” Efren executed his trademark eyebrow flash. “Making you giggle each night while I pleasure you despite your best efforts to smother them, thinking you’ll be heard through thinner walls.”

  Marcelo’s cheery laughter tickled Efren from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes. “And here I’ve just extolled your kindness.”

  “Hmm, I was about to give you a chance to practice your stifling techniques, but if I’m unkind…”

  “Oh, dear.” Marcelo lifted a berry to Efren’s lips and winked. “Perhaps if I pamper you with hand-feeding?”

  Efren sucked the berry, then one of Marcelo’s fingers into his mouth. He released it when the dark centers of Marcelo’s eyes expanded.

  Slow was the goal tonight.

  Efren picked up a berry and licked his lips before slipping it between Marcelo’s.

  * * * *

  Much, much later, Efren breathed easily, his chest slowly expanding and contracting, his heart beating steadily beneath Marcelo’s fingers, which were swirling through the hairs of his chest.

  “Have I told you how much I love that?”

  “Hmm…”

  “Your soothing touch, making me feel wanted, desired, cared for.”

  Marcelo pressed a kiss to Efren’s chest, then stilled. Tensed?

  “What is it, my darling?”

  “I…” Marcelo shifted. “A thought just occurred to me.” He exhaled a couple deep breaths. “I’m probably wrong. It’s just supposition.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I was just thinking about Prince Bertram, and how his wife will never again feel his arms around her.”

  “I’m sorry, my darling.”

  “Except that made me think about his death, and the details of what we were told…”

  Efren ran a soothing hand along Marcelo’s arm. “And?”

  “I know they were your allies in the war, but I was thinking of how, technically, we have only the Proye royals’ word for what happened to Prince Bertram or when it happened within the stretch of time he was away from their castle. Our ambassador can confirm only the time range of Prince Bertram’s absence and what he was told about the prince’s whereabouts and the manner and timing of his death. He never saw the body, and it was quickly buried.”

  “True, but what reason would—”

  Efren stiffened as a reason—a sinister reason—why the Proye royal family would fabricate the truth about how and when Bertram had died occurred to him. Like Marcelo said, it was supposition, but…it fit within the facts that they knew for sure surrounding Bertram’s time away from the castle.

  Marcelo had killed two men when he’d been abducted on their journey from Sheburat to Zioneven. The second, from Marcelo’s description of his appearance, demeanor, and word usage had clearly been a man from a lower class.

  But the first, who’d been killed at camp, hadn’t spoken. And while Marcelo’s description of his appearance was average without any standout features, so was Prince Bertram. And he would have made a point of wearing clothing to blend with the others.

  Could that man actually have been Prince Bertram? Simply because he’d been reportedly inspecting the borders, didn’t mean he actually was. And if Proye had actually been the guilty party executing a double fake—framing Gagal to look like they were framing Proye—that was exactly the kind of operation Bertram would have overseen. Likewise, they could have made it look like Gagel was incriminating Zioneven in Princess Marcela’s death earlier.

  “It’s a very compelling lead,” Efren said. “But I’m still a bit troubled by motive. While financial motive is not nonexistent, unless I’m missing something, Gagel’s is significantly stronger.”

  “I hadn’t thought much about motive for Proye since we’ve been focusing on Gagel, but couldn’t there be something that isn’t directly financial? I mean, both attacks have proven to be financially beneficial to the apparent guilty party, but also, both attacks would have freed you up, making you once again eligible for a marriage that would certainly be
advantageous to your partner.

  “I suppose that’s true, yes, but I can’t think of anybody at the high level required to have pulled off those attacks who—that I know of—has male-male attraction and is himself both single and with sufficient motivation to commit those attacks to achieve that goal.”

  “Yes.” Marcelo deflated. “Maybe there’s something we don’t know or aren’t thinking of.”

  “Yes, and the coincidental timing is compelling.” Efren looked more fully into Marcelo’s face. “Think back to when you buried the bodies. I know the first man had been dead for half a day when you saw him without his half mask, and his features were likely…” Efren cleared his throat. “Uh…not as composed as you would remember seeing him in life, but can you picture it as Bertram now that you are considering it?”

  “That’s the thing,” Marcelo said. “I’ve never actually met either Prince Bertram or Prince Artemis.”

  Efren blinked. “Never?”

  “Never.”

  Efren’s heart sank. That changed everything.

  “I’m sorry, my darling, but our plans for the tour will have to be put off until this lead has been investigated.”

  Marcelo sighed. “I thought as much. I’m so sorry, dearest. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.”

  “Yes, but if this is true, we won’t be safe. They’ll know they won’t be in the clear as long as you are alive. Our two castles are close enough that we have an annual visit, either us going to them, or them coming here. Eventually you will meet Prince Artemis, and as identical twins, you will recognize him as the image of the man you killed.”

  Marcelo shuddered, and Efren held him close. “They might also want to avenge the death of their prince.”

  “We’re safe here in the castle, my darling. It’s too late now, but first thing in the morning, we will speak with Father. The tour will be cancelled. If this is true, they are probably planning to strike us on our travels.”

  Marcelo was silent for a long moment before drawing a breath to speak. “Yes, we are safe here. And we will be secure again everywhere. I trust you, and I trust Denis and Stevyn and the others to get to the bottom of this, and I trust your father and the diplomats to work out a resolution.”

  Efren answered with a hug, then yawned. It was indeed late. Very late, and they had a big day tomorrow. Not the day they’d planned, but this new angle would breathe fresh life into the investigation.

  If it turned out to be true, Marcelo would be vindicated regarding his steadfast disbelief that King Deverick of Gagal could have been behind the earlier attacks.

  Marcelo returned the yawn and snuggled deeper into Efren’s side.

  “Remember,” Marcelo murmured sleepily. “I told you earlier that in my old life, I’d had no idea what I was missing?” He paused and swallowed. “Now? I do know…a full life with a noble and kind future ruler who cares deeply for the people of his realm. You are invaluable to Zioneven. I am honored to share this life with you and contribute as best I can. I would never trade my life here with you for anything else in the world, but neither would I hesitate to risk it to save you.”

  “Nor I, you,” Efren whispered.

  He pulled Marcelo ever closer, and when Marcelo’s breathing had steadied with sleep, a barely awake corner of his brain recalled he’d forgotten to add the words “I love you.”

  He exhaled a heavy breath. Actions meant more than words, he consoled himself, but Marcelo deserved to hear the words, too.

  Morning. He would wake Marcelo with a kiss and say those three meaningful words in the morning.

  He breathed in the berry scent of Marcelo’s hair, and his lips curved into a peaceful smile as he finally drifted to sleep.

  A deep sleep.

  A Forget-Me-Not sleep.

  Chapter 14: Making the Most of this Glorious Evening

  Marcelo, present day

  Marcelo’s head swiveled keeping up with the conversation around the table. Political conversations were shelved for the family meal. It was their time to put worries aside and enjoy each other’s company.

  Merewina apparently couldn’t help herself and reverted to treating Marcelo like the best chums they’d been just yesterday. Marcelo had returned her heartfelt embrace when he and Efren first entered the dining hall.

  No one had batted an eye when Efren had held out Marcelo’s chair for him. Nor had feathers been ruffled when Efren had planted the lightest of kisses to the corner of his mouth before sitting.

  He felt more alive, his blood virtually dancing through his veins, than in any time he could remember as he blushed and laughed at Bridget’s gentle good-natured ribbing about the baby’s “explosion.” That was a supper table topic of conversation he never would have experienced in Sheburat.

  But enough of Sheburat. That was yesterday. Today, tomorrow, and evermore into the future, he would embrace living his life as the people of Zioneven did.

  He tightened his jaw and gave himself a mental nod. He would cease to compare this to his old life, else he would forever be second-guessing himself, wondering if a behavior was “truly” proper. It was proper here in the cheery land where he now lived, and that was all that mattered.

  After supper, they retired to a large drawing room for card games, music, and more conversation, this time including extended family members and foreign dignitaries who resided in suites in the castle’s large wings.

  Fortunately, Marcelo’s education included abbreviated histories of prominent nobles and dignitaries from the other realms, so he only needed to put faces to the names he already knew. He was introduced to those who’d been missed earlier in the day. Lively as the gathering was, Marcelo drifted through the evening in a fog.

  Efren was ever-present at his side, a warm hand at the small of his back whenever Marcelo wasn’t holding his arm. Deliberately—Marcelo was fairly certain—and repeatedly flexing his arm muscles because the action never failed to elicit a light gasp, or at least a quirk to Marcelo’s lips.

  Marcelo smirked and murmured, “She claims we’re best chums, but I can’t help wondering where Merewina is with her sticky bun projectiles when I need her.”

  “Oh, dear.” Efren affected mock concern. “Am I being ‘utterly merciless’ again?”

  Marcelo snickered. “Who, you? I’m sure you would never dream of it.”

  “Never.” He lowered his voice. “Although, it is a rather ‘glorious evening,’ wouldn’t you say?”

  Marcelo’s flush surely went all the way to his toes as his lips curled up. “You did give me your word that it would be.”

  “And I’m a man of my word.” Efren punctuated his sentence with another flex of the arm Marcelo was holding.

  “Honestly, Efren!” They both jumped at Merewina’s words, behind them. “Before today, I never knew you could be such a merciless tease.” Looking at Marcelo, she added, “As I said, you two were always lovey-dovey, but this level of him teasing you is new unless he kept it behind closed doors.” To Efren she said, “For pity’s sake, take him upstairs already.”

  Then she turned on her heal as Marcelo gaped. She glided over to Tristan with a wide, innocent smile adorning her face.

  “Well,” Efren said. “I can’t say I always agree with her advice, but it is rather sound tonight.”

  Marcelo swallowed. “Yes, now I can see why we are best chums.”

  They took a quick turn around the room to say “goodnight.” Marcelo’s cheeks flushed, but he kept his chin up in the face of all the arch looks and grins. Efren, the big tease, wore the widest knowing grin of them all.

  Marcelo’s reticent nature quailed and reveled in equal measures in this unfamiliar less-restrained atmosphere. Perhaps his reserve was more a cultivated habit than part of his true essence?

  By the time they left the room, Marcelo’s grin was as wide as Efren’s. Rather than offering his elbow, as was customary, Efren took Marcelo’s hand in his and pulled him along as they ran like schoolboys through halls and upst
airs, arriving at last, out of breath but with a laugh, at the door of their own private suite.

  Efren ushered him in with a flourish and led him through the sitting room to the bedchamber. Dru and Erich must have anticipated their arrival and set the scene, but it would have been at Efren’s request.

  A fire roared in the fireplace. Wildflowers, candles, an unopened bottle of wine, and two wineglasses adorned a small table. Best of all, an extra-large bathtub, which could easily accommodate the two of them, had been placed in front of the fire, keeping it warm.

  Bubbles with a woodsy scent floated atop the water. Extra jugs of clear water sat on the hearth. Cleaning cloths and drying towels lay folded on a chair nearby.

  Marcelo’s blood dashed through his veins. “How lovely.” And romantic. Not that he could recall ever imagining what might define a romantic scene before, but this was surely what people meant by the word.

  This and ill-fated but well-intended gestures like the Nutter Buzzers Efren had procured. Marcelo sighed and gazed dreamily at his romantic husband, who was watching him intently, perhaps gauging his reaction.

  “I could not dream of a more glorious arrangement.”

  Efren kissed his forehead. “I thought this might strike a nice balance between romance and peaceful relaxation. You are thankfully eager, my darling, but still charmingly naïve. This might help us take the intimate side of our relationship at a more comfortable pace than we would have been allowed on our wedding night.”

  “Thank you, dearest. Your consideration takes my breath away.”

  Marcelo trembled despite the fire’s warmth as Efren’s breath brushed along his cheek before his lips landed on Marcelo’s for a soft kiss. Marcelo parted his lips, and Efren accepted that invitation by tracing the tip of his tongue around the opening.

  With a soft full-body quaver, Marcelo laced his arms around Efren’s neck lest his knees buckle and he end up in a puddle at Efren’s feet.

  “Mmm.” Efren unleashed a rumbling moan that tickled Marcelo to the tips of his toes. Then he ran his fingers along Marcelo’s hair to release the thong at the end of his queue. “Come, my darling, let’s undress and enjoy this lovely bath.”