Chapter Twenty-Three #2
That seemed to improve Finn’s mood. Once they’d finished eating, they cleared the dishes together, stacking them on the sideboard for servants to collect later.
In the bedroom, Darragh lit candles instead of calling for lamps.
For what he had in mind, he wanted softer light and a more intimate atmosphere.
“Come here.” He guided Finn to the bed. “I want you to lie down.”
“Darragh…?”
“Just trust me.”
Finn stretched out on his stomach. Darragh straddled his hips and worked his hands under Finn’s shirt. The muscles beneath were knotted and tense from weeks of stress. Darragh pressed his thumbs along Finn’s spine, feeling him shudder.
“Relax, my wonderful husband. Just relax.”
“I am trying.”
Darragh worked slowly, doing his best to keep his movements gentle but firm, finding every tight spot and working it until he felt the muscle give under his fingers. Finn’s breathing deepened, and when Darragh pulled the shirt up, Finn lifted enough to let him remove it completely.
“Better?”
“Mm.” Finn’s response was muffled against the pillow. “Don’t stop.”
Darragh smiled, continuing the massage. His hands moved lower, kneading the tension from Finn’s lower back, before moving onto his hips and the gentle swell of Finn’s ass.
Finn made small sounds of pleasure that went straight to Darragh’s groin, and from the way Finn was moving, he was feeling it, too.
“Roll over.”
Finn complied, his eyes half-closed and his limbs splayed against the mattress as he settled onto his back. Darragh bent to kiss him, slow at first, reconnecting, relearning the taste and feel of his husband.
They undressed each other gradually, punctuating each revealed piece of skin with more kisses. When they were finally naked, Darragh stretched out beside his husband, pulling him close.
“I love you.” Darragh traced Finn’s jaw. “Not the perfect king consort you’ve been trying to become. You. The man who is not afraid of hard work, who’s familiar with his toolbox, and who loves to use it.”
Finn’s eyes filled. “I still don’t know how to be both. How to be myself and be good enough for this role.”
“Maybe you don’t have to be both.” Darragh kissed his forehead. “Maybe you just have to be you, and trust that’s good enough.”
“But what about the Northern Collective? You said if they pulled out from the treaty…”
“The Northern Collective will either accept us the way we are, or we’ll find other trading partners.
” Darragh pulled Finn against his chest. “I know this is partially my fault. I made a big deal about it, shared that big deal with you, and…my husband is worth more to me than a trade deal. Besides, when the Collectives arrives, they will see friendly, and efficient hospitality. That’s what matters. ”
The world outside the bedroom doors - diplomats and delegations and the weight of an entire kingdom - faded into nothing as Darragh traced the curve of Finn’s shoulder with thick fingers. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss a whispered promise.
There was no rush, no frantic need to prove anything. Just the steady rhythm of their breaths syncing, the way Finn’s skin prickled under his palms, and the quiet hitch in his breath when Darragh’s mouth found that sensitive spot behind his ear.
Finn arched into him with a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan, his fingers tangling in the sheets before finding purchase against Darragh’s hip.
“More,” his body seemed to say, even as his lips stayed silent.
And Darragh gave him more - not just pleasure, but the unspoken reassurance that this, this was what mattered.
Not the titles or the expectations or the damn summit. Just them.
When it was over, when the last shudder had worked its way through Finn’s limbs, and Darragh had pressed one final, lingering kiss to his collarbone, they collapsed together in a tangle of sweat-damp skin and rumpled linens.
Finn’s head found its familiar place against Darragh’s shoulder, his breath warm against the hollow of his throat.
For the first time in weeks, the tension in Finn’s body had melted away, his muscles loose and pliant beneath Darragh’s arm.
“I was wrong.” Darragh stroked Finn’s hair. “To let you carry this alone. To tell you to be yourself while expecting you to navigate court politics without help. It’s impossible to maintain a facade forever, and I was wrong to ask you to even try.”
“I really thought I had to be perfect.” Finn’s voice was drowsy. “I truly believed anything less would ruin everything.”
“Drop the pretense.” Darragh tightened his arms. “In everything. Be honest, be direct, be you. Some people won’t like it. Thomas certainly didn’t. But the right people will respect it.”
Finn was quiet for a long moment. “I’m still going to worry if the summit’s a disaster and if that leads to losing the Northern Collective agreement and thousands of people lose their jobs, all because I wasn’t good enough. That is part of being myself.”
Darragh extracted himself carefully and crossed to the bookshelf. “Helena found this yesterday, bless her.” He returned with a leather-bound volume, that looked very old and had a cracked spine.
“What is it?”
“It’s part of the country’s historical records.” Darragh flipped through pages. “Helena thought it might provide perspective when she knew I was getting really worried about you. Here, read this. This was the last time Safe Harbor hosted the World Council summit.”
Finn sat up, accepting the book. Darragh pointed to a specific passage.
Finn read aloud, his voice gaining amusement as he continued: “The Montclaire delegation departed three days early after Ambassador Theron accused them of poisoning his dog.
Investigation revealed the dog had merely eaten too many sausages from the kitchen.
The Valdis contingent refused to attend the final session because Queen Elara claimed her room faced the wrong direction and thus violated her spiritual beliefs.
King Jonathan of Safe Harbor reportedly told her she was welcome to sleep in the stables if she preferred.
“The Northern Collective ambassador challenged Safe Harbor’s trade minister to a duel over an insult that turned out to be a mistranslation.
The duel was held with fish instead of swords, as King Jonathan refused to allow violence on palace grounds.
Several delegates left with severe bruising.
Despite these incidents, the summit concluded with three major trade agreements signed and the Northern Collective increasing their partnership with Safe Harbor by twenty percent. ”
Finn burst out laughing. “They had a duel with fish?”
“Apparently, King Jonathan had a sense of humor.” Darragh grinned. “And yet, despite the absolute disaster, the country survived and went on to thrive.”
“The Northern Collective increased its partnership.” Finn read the passage again, wonder in his voice. “After all that chaos.”
“Because Safe Harbor proved competent where it mattered.” Darragh took the book, set it aside, and pulled Finn back down. “The rest was just theater.”
Finn snuggled close, his body finally relaxed. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Reminding me the world doesn’t end if I’m not perfect.” Finn kissed Darragh’s shoulder. “Reminding me why I said yes to you in the first place.”
Darragh was tempted to ask Finn to explain again why Finn had agreed to marry him.
But Finn’s need for sleep was more important, and it’s not like I need more ego boosting.
Darragh held him, listening as Finn’s breathing evened out, quietly relieved that he and Finn were finally connected again - in more ways than one.