XXXIX
Wringing out the water from his shirt, Alex left a damp trail behind him as they walked back towards the inn.
His bare feet slapped against the cold stone paving, the cool air soaking through his skin as the heavy garments pulled on him.
His jacket and shoes were rolled into a ball that he carried under his arm, dripping like the rest of him.
James had the advantage of being shirtless, the cold not clinging to him quite as stubbornly, unshy in wearing nothing but his wet trousers.
He carried Eris in his bare hand, the rest of his clothes clumped together, similar to Alex's.
It was a sight Alex got to appreciate every time they passed a lamp, the orange flame catching the edges and definition of his impressive muscular frame.
Alex had seen it many times now, but it wasn't a sight he ever got bored of.
Alex had sobered up significantly but James still seemed to be under the noticeable influence of alcohol, murmuring an unfamiliar tune as they strolled.
"What are you humming?" Alex asked.
James kept his eyes forward but smiled mischievously. "Come out and stand your ground, you bird-faced gnashgab excuses of a man," he sang, a skip in his tone.
Alex appreciated James' energy in good humour. "A marching song, huh? It's a little sexist, is it not?"
"Comes from the north. They treat women differently up there."
Alex hummed. "I know. I am a Lord from Maystair, remember? The Duke and Duchess are from up there, I've seen it all."
"I remember," James confirmed happily. "I always found it weird that the north has that attitude even though they border the Espar Empire.
" James then remarked. "Espar uses female soldiers but northern women are regarded delicately.
Whereas the south, which borders the polygamist Ashad, has a lot of strong-willed women.
I almost think the north and south should be switched around to make more sense. "
"I thought you didn't care about politics and social issues."
James snorted. "Politics? Stab me. Social issues, though, that's very much up my street."
"They're basically the same," Alex claimed. He believed it to an extent, but he'd wanted to tease James.
James didn't rise to the bait. A small smile on his lips signalled to Alex that James was aware of what he tried to do. "I never claimed to be a consistent man."
Although a vague response, it was true. James wasn't very consistent, at all. Sometimes he lied, sometimes he told the truth; but it was seemingly randomised, it made it difficult to get a real grasp on him. He was unique.
Two ladies squealed by them as they crossed paths, the women whispering to each other and giggling over their shoulders at them. Alex couldn't tell if they found amusement in their soaking appearance or were appreciating James, possibly both.
James must have heard it, but he pretended he hadn't; instead, he kept happily murmuring that battle song to himself. Why a battle song, though? It suddenly struck Alex as foreboding.
"What are you planning?" he asked, suspicious.
James tilted his head innocently.
"Don't give me that."
James frowned, appearing upset. It nearly convinced Alex, that wounded expression, but he knew better. He would find out soon.
People began to whistle and laugh at them as they returned to the inn. Alex felt self-conscious under the scrutiny but James took the attention in stride, grinning widely, thriving off the energy. He spread his arms out, welcoming the teasing.
James sometimes behaved like a royal, in a snide superior way where he treated others like insects.
Other times, though, Alex couldn't imagine him fitting in so perfectly with anyone other than commoners.
They joked with him in ways that Alex would find insulting, but James found it funny, pushing back at them with equal intensity.
He was so suited for life down here that Alex wondered why James had ever agreed to become a king in the first place. He thrived in anonymity and freedom, taking the throne would steal both of those things from him.
The music had stopped, but many locals still lingered in the pub, reaching their limits.
People hauled themselves home, stumbling drunkenly.
Alex was concerned with how intoxicated some of the women were, he kept a keen eye on those who left, making sure they weren't wandering through the dark alone.
"You don't have to worry too much," James said, tone serious. Alex looked round and realised James was talking to him.
Alex was surprised James had been paying attention to him, let alone know what he was thinking.
"They're quite drunk." Alex winced.
James watched another pair of women leave the pub and walk by them, one speaking incomprehensibly in a slur of quick words that blended together.
"It's quite easy to tell what kind of town it is within a few minutes," James remarked. "These smaller places rely on mob justice more than knights. The men here seem to be respectful. The women wouldn't have let loose so much in so many numbers if it wasn't the case, they're safe."
Alex didn't respond, looking out down the dark street.
"We can follow them all, if you'd like," James suggested, suddenly right next to him. Alex could never hear James move.
Alex scanned James' face for a moment, the other man was clearly sincere. He slowly shook his head, even if he gave one last glance in their direction.
"You're right, I'm probably being over the top."
"It's not a matter of right and wrong," James said, "you grew up in the north, your mind is attuned to different dangers, just like mine is."
Alex raised his eyebrows. "And what danger are you attuned to?"
James' face didn't so much as twitch, remaining calmly neutral. He knew that expression well; James was deciding whether to lie or not. His eyes were unusual, they looked somewhat distant, unfocused.
"Connection," he said, finally. Alex didn't have time to process the answer before James walked away, marking an end to the line of enquiry.
Something made Alex feel that he'd heard the truth. It was too curt, too loaded of a word to be a lie. It seemed contradictory of him, in so many ways, to confess that to Alex. He wasn't sure what to make of it.
They got to the external inn door. Unlike the normal pub front entrance, this one had a flight of stairs on the other side, leading to the rooms. A few men lingered near it, drinking.
"Put yer shirt on," a man scolded James, "my wife would be too happy to meet you."
"I bet she would, sir. She was the one who stole it."
The man laughed, his friends chuckling along. "Sounds about right."
"Have a good night," James parted, holding the door open for Alex before following him in.
James was slow in the corridor, kicking his foot out as he walked. It was pretty dark in there, he supposed James was just delaying something.
"You're much more sociable than I thought," Alex observed, glancing over his shoulder.
"Surprising?"
It was. James was a deeply lonely person and it was his own deliberate decisions that made him that way. He was prickly to company.
"You don't like company."
James smirked. "I like yours."
Alex wasn't a fan of the way his heart skipped a beat. James had a very bad habit of saying things that held deeper implications and Alex's heart would notice them. He wasn't sure whether it was deliberate or not.
"You need to be more careful with that tongue of yours," Alex admonished.
A warm pressure pushed against his back, soaking through his damp clothes. James held his biceps, his hands rough and hot. He leaned his chin on Alex's shoulder, tilting his head. Alex very carefully looked next to him, James' hair brushing against his cheek.
"You like my tongue though," James said, licking his lips. It caught Alex's eye.
This was deliberate, Alex knew that much.
"Was this why you were humming?" Alex asked. "This is your evil plan?"
Instead of answering with words, James teased his lips along Alex's neck, leaving a sensitive shiver as it went along. Alex trembled inside. He wanted more of it.
Alex spun round, pushing James against the wall, pinning his hands against it.
He felt James' body tense and then willfully relax as he mashed their lips together.
He could feel James' low chuckle vibrate through their chests, a sound that quickly melted into a groan as Alex urged his tongue out, brushing against James'.
James returned it with equal enthusiasm. He flexed his fingers, as if debating whether to break from Alex's hold, testing it. Alex didn't let him internally struggle for long, he took a step back, separating them.
"What are our sleeping arrangements like?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper.
"Us two, one room."
The wicked grin on James' face stirred him up inside.
Alex pecked him once more on the lips. "I'm guessing that's your doing."
"Of course."
"You scheming little shit."
James chuckled, then gave Alex a small push forwards.
Alex was quick on the stairs, unable to suppress his excited energy, skipping the odd step. James was a lot slower behind him, carefully navigating himself. He reckoned James was teasing him by doing that.
He waited at the top, near a door.
"Which room?" he whispered.
James pointed further down. "The next one."
Somehow, James' foot got caught on the top step and he flailed, catching himself with some large wooden clattering. Alex began to laugh, trying to suppress himself. James glared at him as he stood up, which only made it funnier.
"It's not funny."
Alex disagreed.
A loud bang pulsed through the floor, the corridor filling with a dark orange light. Alex snapped his head around, seeking the danger.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" a low voice growled, a barely controlled fury coarsening the tone.
Thomas came into view of the door, putting a hand on Riley's shoulder. "Riley, stop." he murmured.
Riley swatted it away, turning wild accusing eyes on Alex and James. "Are you out of your fucking minds?" he shouted, "This is fucking unbelievable. Sneaking out, getting drunk, like teenagers! Do you have the slightest idea of how much danger we're in, hm?"
His hair was a mess, like he'd run his hands through it all night, his face tense and frenzied. More than anger, there was something else in his tone, something wobbly. Fear.
"Riley," Thomas tried, his tone quiet and soothing.
"Don't 'Riley' me," he spat back. He looked between James and Alex, brows low, nose scrunched, fists clenched.
Before Alex could react, Riley pounced towards him, pulling back his elbow to punch Alex in the face. James was on him before he could finish the movement, saving Alex from most of the force, the fist barely skimming him. They tumbled to the ground, Riley roared in frustration.
"You put us in danger," Riley insisted, "every single fucking thing you do will affect the rest of us!"
"Shut up, man," James said calmly, pinning Riley down.
Alex watched as Riley's elbow caught James in his ribs. James grunted, becoming irritated, but didn't leave any openings. Thomas came round to help, then, securing Riley's arms whilst James twisted his body into a lock.
"Let's just kill him," James said.
Alex glared. "Quiet, James."
Riley did his best to buck the two men off of him, throwing his weight around, but to no avail.
"I'm going to be dead anyway," Riley snapped.
Alex felt his chest tighten. "Fletcher, there's some rope in Thomas' bag. Go fetch it, please."
Fletcher nodded, lingering near the doorway, watching meekly. "Okay."
Riley scoffed and then chuckled darkly. "Fuck you. All of you. You have no idea what's happening. None! You're all going to die."
James gave Alex a look, something resembling concern. Alex nodded. This wasn't a normal tantrum.
"How about you enlighten us?" James sneered, squeezing Riley's body to make it hurt.
Riley stared Alex in the eye, wincing. "You've picked the wrong person to rely on," he said, "you have no idea."
James squeezed harder again, Riley cursed and groaned. Thomas looked down anxiously, struggling between concern for his colleague and confusion of what was happening.
Fletcher returned with some rope. Alex took it and gave it to Thomas to deal with. Without another word, Thomas began tying Riley's hands. Riley continued to glare up at them hatefully.
"Tell me what this danger is," Alex demanded.
"And why should I trust you?"
"We're a team," Alex replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "We all need to be able to trust and rely on each other to some degree, otherwise we'll fail without a chance. That's why you came to me, remember?"
"A team?" Riley's voice went up an octave, outraged by the suggestion. "You're all about trusting the right people? This bastard is King Fabian's brother! He doesn't trust any of you!"
Riley cried out in pain as James began twisting his pelvis at a bad angle, his spine stretching and contorting.
"James, stop." Alex was seriously concerned James was about to break something.
Thomas shoved James away and held a hand out, warding him off. James glared but didn't try a second time. He got to his feet, staring down at the two men with a detached annoyance. Riley curled into a ball, breathless from pain.
No one said anything, shocked into silence from the chaos they'd witnessed, chewing over the words they'd all heard, the behaviour they'd seen. Thomas stared at the ground intensely, his mouth flat and sour. Fletcher seemed as if he'd throw up, hiding behind the wall.
James clicked his tongue. "The real Riley has made an appearance, huh? I preferred the fake one."
"Fuck you, psycho," Riley hissed, his voice strained.
James kicked him in retaliation, aiming for his already-sore back, hard enough to hurt, light enough to not cause damage. Thomas stood, squaring up against James and shoving him away. He pointed in warning. "That's enough."
"He's asking for it. Keep your head down like you normally do, yeah?"
Alex got in between them, not wanting another fight to take place. He was suddenly very aware that any other guest could come out of their rooms and stumble upon this scene. It was already getting out of hand.
"Thomas, get Riley into a chair, please."
Thomas hauled Riley up and followed Alex's order without responding, glancing uneasily at James as they passed into the room.
James and Alex stared at each other, waiting to see if the other would back down. Alex wasn't sure what to feel, Prince Julian had been on his list of possible identities for James, but the thought almost seemed impossible. James was a rough, unapologetic commoner. He wasn't a prince.
Though, it somewhat made sense at times like this. James couldn't be ordered around, only requested. If he wanted to do something, he would do it without apology.
"Will you stop?"
James scanned his face, considering his next course of action. He sighed and took a step away, signalling his retreat.
"Thank you."
James muttered something unintelligible, gesturing dismissively.
"You thought I wouldn't recognise you?" Riley went on, shouting painfully in the next room. James stood in the doorway, watching Thomas tie him to a chair.
"I don't know what you're talking about," James said, plainly.
"No one believes you."
James sniffed, not providing any words against the claim.
Alex gently nudged James into the room and followed him inside, locking the door behind him. They were all entrapped within the same small oppressive space. It felt so cold and heavy that Alex wanted to open a window.
"I think Riley must have bashed his head a little too hard on the way down," James said.
"Don't you dare—"
"James," Alex pleaded.
James rolled his eyes and leaned on the door, watching all four men carefully, silently.
"You're upset because I'm right," Riley accused.
"I'm not upset," James replied calmly.
"Did you really think no one would ever recognise you? My cousin went to your palace every month and, sometimes, so did I. I know you, Prince Julian."
Riley's eyes blazed as they focused on James alone. They were no longer snake-like and soulless, they burned with emotion.
"I've never met you before in my life," James maintained.
"You filthy liar."
Knowing he was on limited time before James took matters into his own hands, Alex stepped into Riley's path of sight. "Riley. Tell us what this danger is."
"Like Hell I'd do that!" Riley raged. Fletcher flinched from the dangerous tone of voice. "He's his brother; he's probably been relaying everything back to King Fabian! If I say anything, I'm dead. We all are!"
Alex looked at James.
"I'm not leaving," James declared before Alex could pose the question.
"James, please."
"You should've killed him," Riley said, "you should've killed him the first time you'd arrested him. Because of you, Alex, we're all dead."
James huffed. "You're so melodramatic. Alex, he's trying to manipulate you. We should kill him now." He pointed at Fletcher. "Mel-o-drama-tic, it's a good word. Write it down."
"Don't listen to him!"
Alex's head began to throb in pain, unsure what to do, whose words to trust. He needed to de-escalate the situation quickly.
"Thomas, tie his mouth. We're all sleeping in here tonight and I don't want to hear another word from anybody."
"Thomas, don't you dare—"
Thomas grimaced but got the rope ready. "Sorry, Riley."
Riley tried his hardest to avoid it, jerking his head around and yelling, shouts that quickly became muffled.
"James, Fletcher, go get our bags and a mattress from next door."
James raised his eyebrows. "Just the one mattress?"
Alex waved a hand in Riley's direction. "He's going to be on the chair."
James grinned pleasantly, dragging Fletcher out with him without hesitation, slamming the door behind them.
It was silent for a moment, the chaos breaking.
"What's happening right now?" Thomas asked.
Alex sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands, stressed beyond belief. "Neither James nor Riley are calm enough right now. We'll wait until the morning."
"James seemed like he'd calmed down to me."
Alex shook his head. "He hasn't."
Thomas paused, then walked up to him, leaning in to murmur in his ear. "If my family gets hurt because of these secrets that I never wanted to know, I'll never forgive you for bringing me on this trip."
Alex wouldn't apologise, this was bigger than them. He hadn't been aware of how complicated the situation would become, but he was willing to risk his life to see it through. This was his only chance to not only save thousands of lives, but save his own too.
He'd never apologise for that, even if he was resented for it.