Chapter XLIX Welcome #2
Sidonius rolls his lips to hide a thrilled smile as his eyes grow huge and delighted. He positively vibrates with eagerness, almost bouncing on his feet, and I know he can’t wait to set the gossip mill in motion.
“Ah, then follow me, please! My pleasure, Your Highness, my pleasure!”
Magnar gives me a hard look, and I reassure him with a smile as we set out behind Sidonius, our knights in tow.
The palace is spacious and airy, the walls decorated with exotic art, lanterns made of amber glowing in the few dim nooks.
Most spaces are flooded with daylight falling in through tall windows.
Sidonius gives us a short tour, indicating the feast hall, the ballroom, the separate sitting rooms for the ladies and gentlemen.
Finally, we ascend a wide, comfortable staircase, and from there, it’s a short walk to our apartment. A set of gilded doors flies open at our approach, a pair of pretty, young maids bowing low when we enter.
“Hortencia and Agnes will be available at any hour of day and night to make your stay more pleasant,” Sidonius says with a wink. “Whatever you need, my king, my queen, simply ask.”
“Thank you very much,” I say, dropping Magnar’s hand to clasp Sidonius’ briefly. “You have been most kind. We’ll let you go back to your duties. You are the Master of Peace, aren’t you? The most important person in the Eleven.”
His polite smile falls, and he watches me with intense suspicion. I frown back at him, unsure what I said wrong, and Sidonius finally nods, giving me a much smaller, more genuine smile. It’s tinted with bitterness.
“Of course, this is your first time here. Forgive me, I took your words for a thinly veiled joke, but you were sincere. My position used to have cachet in the past, my queen, but the privileges of the Master of Peace have eroded with time. I am but a glorified party host. But thank you.”
I shake my head, remembering my father’s teachings.
“The kings and queens of the Eleven Kingdoms must live in peace. That is the most important principle and value we share—and the Master of Peace is the man who ensures we abide. It’s not necessary, though.
Every king knows that if he attacks another king, or even worse, causes his death, all of us will fall.
We scheme and plot, my prize, but we never cause each other harm. ”
“But it’s thanks to you none of the kings have slaughtered each other over the years, is it not?” I ask, belatedly remembering I should speak more gently.
Sidonius gasps with amusement. “Maybe you are right. Maybe I am just that good a host.”
He winks, his mouth twisted in a gentle, self-deprecating sneer before his face smoothes back into its shallow, affected mask.
“Do you have any special requests? We can arrange for flowers to be brought, for private musicians, or more company for my king, my queen, and your guests.”
I watch him a moment longer, and finally smile. “Thank you. If we need anything, we’ll ask the maids. I’d love to have tea with you sometime during our stay if you can find half an hour for me. Personally, I consider speaking to the Master of Peace a great honor.”
He smiles with genuine pleasure and brings my hand to his lips. “Thank you, my queen. I’ll let you get settled, and remember, you can ask for anything. The evening feast starts at eight, and I’ll be honored if all of you join us.”
He leaves. The maids look at us with bright, pleasant smiles, not miffed by having to serve the Agnidari. Oh, I am so happy I read my father’s journals. At least I know enough to read between the lines.
“Thank you for your service, Agnes, Hortencia,” I say with a smile. “We’d like five hot baths, and bring us something to eat since it’s still a few hours until evening. That will be all.”
The maids both bow and leave with a rustle of skirts.
I look around our sitting room that’s large and luxurious, furnished with thick cream carpets and dark blue couches arranged around a white marble table.
A set of wide glazed doors is open, letting in the breeze.
They lead to a balcony looking out on the sea.
“Caliane, what the fuck just happened?” Magnar asks, his voice low and tense.
I nod at Khay. “Look through the other rooms and close all the windows you find open, and this one, too. Raduna, I’d like you to go to the bedroom and take off the painting of a flower vase, there’s a small hole behind it.
Stuff something in there. Arvi, you might look behind other paintings, though the one in the bedroom is the only spyhole my father ever found.
Once that’s done, let’s all come here, and we’ll talk. ”
They obey me at once, and I take Magnar’s hand, pulling him to the couch. “Sit down. Breathe. I’ll explain everything in a minute.”
He nods and eases down with a sigh. I unclasp his cloak and set about tugging off his gloves, then undoing the buttons of his top jacket. When I kneel to unlace his boots, he stops me.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to make you more comfortable. You need to relax. I am sorry, husband, but you’re a walking accident waiting to happen.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, tugging me into his lap. “Fuck. You’re right, I know. I will relax. Just as soon as I bathe and fuck my wife. But you’ll have to be on top. I’m exhausted.”
I lean in, pressing my lips to the sharp edge of his ear. “How about I take you in my mouth? Would that be relaxing?”
He embraces me tightly, burying his face in my hair. “Yes. Whatever you want. I’m so happy you’re here.”
My heart aches at the glimpse of his vulnerability. Magnar is a force on the battlefield, an excellent fighter and strategist, and a fair king. But the world of human courtrooms is a different kind of warfare. He’s out of his depth, and I know he hates it.
“Everything will be well,” I whisper, stroking his hair. “I’m here, and I know this world. We’ll be fine, and you’ll do magnificently, I know. You just need to rest a little. My smart, handsome king.”
He snorts softly. “Right now my only saving grace is having a bright, savvy wife. Thank you, my love.”
Our knights return and settle around us on the couches. Arvi takes out a small knife and twirls it between his fingers at a dizzying speed. Khay’s knee bounces, and Raduna is unusually still. They are all on edge.
Arvi doesn’t even glance at the knife when he speaks. “The bathroom is large and there’s another door in there. We’ll have to lock it for the night. We should keep watch, too.”
I nod. “It’s probably a service door. They’ll bring in hot water through there so as not to disturb us. All right, let me explain now. You’re not our knights anymore, not officially. You’re our lovers.”
They blink at me without comprehension until finally, Raduna clears his throat. “But we are your lovers.”
I straighten in Magnar’s lap and give him an apologetic smile.
“Well, yes, but right now, Sidonius is out there telling whoever will listen that the king and queen of Farneer brought in three strapping Agnidari men, and they both, uh, lie with them. Kings’ Peace doesn’t keep anyone from bringing in mistresses, you see.
And I thought we might distract them with some juicy gossip. Let them talk.”
Magnar huffs a low laugh, his eyes closed. “Works for me. I bet no one here even knows what it means to be an Agnidari knight. Good thinking, love.”
“So I can’t wear my knives in public?” Arvi asks with a pout.
I shake my head. “I don’t think it matters as long as you don’t attack anyone.”
“Why doesn’t everyone bring in warriors or assassins under the guise of sexual companions?” Khay asks, his eyebrows raised.
“I’m guessing because of shame. No human king would bring in a man and announce to the world that he’s his wife’s lover, or even worse, his.
Usually, kings who travel alone bring in mistresses, but these are secretive affairs because some queens are vengeful.
That’s why Sidonius was bursting with excitement.
He gets to be the one who tells our secret.
And speaking of, well, prostitutes, our maids are ready to serve in that capacity.
It’s common according to my father’s journals. ”
Arvi snorts. “Do you think they lost a bet and that’s why they were assigned to us? Fuck, Magnar. You’ve got a lot to learn about entertaining royal guests.”
My husband’s eyes are still closed as he holds me tightly, as if afraid I’ll slip out. “Don’t care. Maids aren’t for fucking. Find any more spyholes?”
“Just the one,” Raduna says. “There was a well-hidden hole in the painting, too. It was positioned in a way to give the spy a good view of the bed.”
“You humans are perverted,” Magnar says with a tired huff.