Chapter Ten
Dáithí
This whole day has been so weird, and I guess it’s about to get weirder, because I’m standing in front of the king’s door, waiting for Jared to unlock it.
Apparently, when I called in Team Bro, I started a chain reaction, and now both of the heads of my government are waiting inside, along with Eoin and some of his teammates, who are here to support him.
I mean, I can see why it’s fair for him to have support, but does it have to include our bosses?
The door opens at last, and I follow Jared through it, Noah right behind me and Team Bro boisterously bringing up the rear. They’re way more excited about all of this than I am.
King Raeulfr is walking toward us, the little smile on his face that he always gets when Jared’s around, and just like always, a longing-jealousy combo moment hits me.
I hate that I have this reaction to seeing how happy and in love they are, because I really am thrilled for them.
The king’s been alone for a long time, and all of us who’ve worked with him have wanted him to find love again.
Jared is perfect for him, and I like Jared.
I genuinely consider him a friend, and I don’t want to be that person who’s jealous of his friend’s happiness.
But seeing them fit so perfectly together turns me into a green-eyed… whatever it is that jealous people are. I want Eoin to look at me that way, as if a few hours apart felt like centuries, as if seeing me is the best part of his day. And I want it to last forever.
I swallow hard as that stubborn tendril of hope tries to rise again.
Searching for a distraction, I look around, taking in the details of the condo.
The doors opened into a huge living-dining room.
The furniture is all nice, but it seems a little sterile.
I wonder if there’s another living area somewhere, because I can’t see either the king’s or Jared’s personality here.
That dining table is fucking huge, though. Line another one the same size up beside it and stick some mattresses on top, and you could host one heck of an orgy.
My gaze catches on Eoin, standing beside the table. His face is pale and drawn. I’m crossing the room before I realize it.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He was fine when he left the office for the day—a little subdued, maybe, since he knew I was planning to test him, but not like this. He looks awful.
He shakes his head. “No, just tired. The healing spell—”
“Healing?” My voice rises, but I barely notice the room falling quiet. I’m too busy unbuttoning Eoin’s shirt, looking for where he might have been wounded. “What happened? Where are you—”
His hands close over mine as I reach for his belt. “Dáithí. I’m fine.”
“But—”
“Look at me.”
I raise my gaze to his, and the steadiness there eases my panic. Whatever happened, he’s okay. “Why did you need to be healed?”
He grimaces. “Ari got me drunk.”
My “What?” is echoed more explosively by Ari.
“I did not,” he adds. “I told you to take a sip, not down the whole glass in one swallow.”
Ugh. Drinking games? Really? And in the king’s home?
I guess they’ll never grow out of that behavior.
Irritation burns away the last of my concern, and I step back, freeing my hands from Eoin’s grasp.
He frowns a little, but immediately sets to work on the buttons I undid, and heat rises to my cheeks as I realize how many people witnessed my… momentary break in composure.
Definitely not a panicked meltdown.
“Wait, he was drunk, and it got healed?” Alistair asks. “Like… completely healed, no more drunk, no hangover?” He turns to Caolan. “Bro, have you been holding out on me? How come you never mentioned this? You’ve seen me suffering through hangovers!”
Caolan shrugs. “Healing magic isn’t my area. I only know spells for basic wound care, and only because it was part of my training when I joined the army.”
“And the no-drunk spell wasn’t part of that?” Alistair seems offended by that idea.
I glance at Noah, and we both roll our eyes. “Oddly enough, the King’s Army didn’t think soldiers would need to heal hangovers while they were on duty,” I point out.
“Boy, were they wrong,” Hagen mutters, and His Majesty’s brows shoot up.
“This may be a conversation I’m not supposed to be part of,” he suggests mildly, and I have the satisfaction of seeing Hagen wince.
“It’s also off topic,” Noah adds. “I want to get home at some point, so can we do what we came here for?” He settles himself into one of the chairs at the table and looks around expectantly.
I immediately sit in the chair closest to me, nerves flooding in now that it seems like the time is actually here. We’re going to give Eoin the list of tasks, and…
Well, either he’ll accept them, or he won’t.
People find places to sit, and soon the sound of scraping chair legs gives way to quiet. “So,” the king says, “Dáithí, you have the floor.”
That’s not at all scary. “Team Bro pointed out that the only single task that could give an accurate answer to the question at hand would be for Eoin to be in a long-term committed relationship, which makes this a chicken and egg situation.”
Beside me, Eoin stirs. “Hm. Can’t prove I’m relationship material without being in one, and you don’t want to be in one until I prove it.”
I open my mouth to refute that—I do want it, I’m just not convinced he does—but since everyone here has no doubt heard all those details already, it’s not worth repeating them.
Instead, I say, “To combat this, Team Bro suggested a series of tasks that will assess elements that are contributing factors of a long-term commitment. Since they’re all in long-term committed relationships themselves, it can be argued that they’re subject-matter experts. ”
There’s a tiny pause as those of us with a claim to sanity ponder the validity of that statement.
“More than one task?” Eoin asks, leaning back in his chair. “No problem.”
Ari, who’s sitting on his other side, sighs. “What he meant was, the original agreement was for a single test, not an open-ended series of them.”
I nod approvingly, glad someone on Eoin’s team—because there’s no question Ari would be—is thinking clearly. “Yes, we—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Eoin argues. “If it’s going to take more than one test for me to prove myself, that’s fine by me. I’m here for one, one dozen, or one hundred tasks, if that’s what it takes.”
The twin feelings of guilt and yearning adoration battle within me, and my next words come unbidden. “You should hold yourself in higher esteem. Why aren’t you demanding—”
“Before this gets out of hand,” Noah interrupts, raising his voice to talk over me, “Andrew’s going to explain the plan. Save your questions until the end, and don’t have any questions.”
“I already have a question,” Niamh says, then raises her hands when Noah shoots her a look that should cause burns. “I changed my mind. No questions.”
Noah aims that same expression around the table, and when everyone stays silent, he gestures to his husband. “Speak.”
Smiling at him fondly, Andrew says, “But Caolan hasn’t set up the presentation.”
Caolan pushes back from the table. “Is there a television somewhere? It would only take a minute to—”
“We don’t need the presentation,” I snap, feeling a sudden kinship with Noah. Why is everyone determined to drag this out? “Sit down, Caolan. Andrew?” He’s grinning now, which makes me suspect he did that deliberately.
“Yes, of course. As Dáithí said, we’ve put together a series of tasks, each of which is designed to highlight a strength—or lack thereof—that’s needed in a happy relationship.
While the nature of each task is such that only Eoin can complete it, we encourage him to assemble a support team to help with preparation.
As Caolan pointed out, having separate friendship groups as well as a shared one can be an important part of a healthy relationship. ”
It’s true, and good advice, but I’m still convinced his boyfriend only said it to him to keep from being sucked into Team Bro.
“Wait, what?” Eoin straightens, frowning. “I can do this on my own. I don’t want any question of whether I only succeeded because I had help.”
Ugh! “Why are you like this? You should be offended by this whole thing, not trying to make it even harder for yourself. You’re so stubborn.”
His jaw drops. “Me, stubborn? Have you looked in a mirror lately? The only reason we’re doing this is because you can’t accept that you’re special enough to make anyone want to commit to you, even someone who never has before!”
“That is not—”
“Oh my god, shut up!” Noah yells.
The resulting silence is broken by Jared. “You two are so sweet, the way you try to defend each other from… each other.”
I’m still glaring at Eoin, so I see the exact moment my dawning sheepishness is reflected on his face. He clears his throat. “Continue.”
Andrew smirks. He’s done that a lot tonight, and it’s particularly annoying.
“The existence of your support team isn’t up for debate.
Dáithí has us, so you also get people. While Dáithí will have the final overall say on whether you’ve proved yourself or not, since apparently it’s not legal to force people to be in a relationship—”
“What?” Eoin says.
I wave off his question. “I’ll explain later. Please don’t ask.” That was a whole conversation I never thought I’d have. At one point, I thought Noah was going to single-handedly rip out Alistair’s spleen.
“Ahem. As I was saying, Dáithí will have the final word, but both teams will be involved in the assessment of each task and will give feedback. He’ll take that feedback into consideration when he makes his decision.”
Eoin’s brows draw together, and I resist the urge to wring my hands. There’s a good chance he’ll object now. “Wait, whether I pass each test is going to be decided by a panel?”
“Essentially, yes.”
Ari’s nodding. “That’s good. Very fair.”
“I don’t know,” Eoin says slowly, causing his friend to groan. “I don’t want Dáithí to feel pressured into his decision.”
How—how—has he managed to stay alive for so long with so few self-preservation instincts?
I bite back the urge to yell, and instead take a deep breath.
“I won’t feel pressured,” I assure him, and I’m proud of how calm I sound.
“This is an important decision, and it wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I let people railroad me. ”
He still seems unsure, so I add, “If I can resist the pressure from Jax at Smooth as Butter to accept a thirty percent discount on services in exchange for letting them put a temporary tattoo of their business logo on my ass, then I can resist whatever pressure this lot puts on me.”
Eoin’s concern melts into a laugh, probably remembering the first time I told him about that, and I wink. It’s become an inside joke between us, him asking me every time I have an appointment if Jax is still offering the deal.
“What’s Smooth as Butter?” Niamh asks.
“And why would they want to put their business logo on your… butt?” Jared adds, perplexed.
Grinning, Eoin replies, “It’s where Dáithí goes for waxing.”
Alistair’s delighted shout almost drowns out my answer for Jared. “Advertising.”
His mouth forms a shocked O, and then his cheeks flush bright red. “For waxing… Okay. I always wanted to ask someone who got waxed down there… it hurts, right?”
Oh, that sweet little thing. I’m tempted to tease, but the fierce expression on His Majesty’s face changes my mind. “Yes. A lot.” I shrug. “I think it’s worth it, though.”
“Hmm.” Eoin leans over to murmur in my ear, “I do too.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. I don’t know why—I’ve never been the kind of person who’s shy about sex or anatomy. There’s something about Eoin’s appreciative little growl, though, that makes me feel like a shy virgin… who wants to be debauched.
I clear my throat. “Is it time to talk about the tasks?”