Chapter Nineteen
Cormal
Cormal had ridden away from the castle with a great sense of accomplishment.
His horse, Fireball, hadn’t been on a long journey in ages and seemed raring to go.
The air was crisp, and there was a thin layer of snow on the ground.
Yes, Cormal was bundled in his winter cloak and would prefer if it were summer, but he was just starting out on his journey, and it felt bracing and…
hopeful, somehow, like that dusting of white brightened everything, including his outlook.
Cormal knew he was leaving the castle in safe hands, and he was filled with purpose. He felt like he was ready for anything—a feeling which lasted until approximately three hours away from the castle, when Delana caught up to him with Kinan riding behind her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
She shot him an unimpressed look. “What does it look like we’re doing? Trying to reduce the chance that you’re going to wind up dead, of course.”
He gaped at them. “What?”
Now they were both looking at him like he was an idiot.
“Your worry wasn’t about not coming back from a surprise inspection,” Kinan said, his brow puckered.
Which. Oh. Maybe Cormal had been a little too clingy.
“I have to go,” he told them, trying to make them understand.
They just rolled their eyes.
“Of course you have to go,” Delana agreed.
“But I’m coming with you so you don’t wind up dead,” Kinan clarified.
Cormal stared. “What?”
“Renny would probably be better,” Kinan admitted, shrugging. “As a deterrent, I mean. But there was no way we were going to be able to sneak her out of the castle, and I was a little worried she might have just let them kill you. But I can be pretty persuasive, too.”
Cormal swallowed heavily as he realized what they were actually saying. They’d figured out what he was doing, and instead of trying to stop him, they were trying to maximize his chance of success.
“Thank you,” he whispered, throat thick with emotions he couldn’t name.
“Idiot,” Kinan said, rolling his eyes but looking very fond. “You should have known I would come with you.”
And maybe Cormal should have. He’d been so focused on what he needed to do, and there was still part of him that was used to being all alone on the losing side.
“Where does everyone think you are?” he asked.
Untouchable or not, he was the crown prince.
Kinan shrugged like this was the most unimportant thing imaginable. “Renny’s covering for me.”
Cormal gaped at him.
“She knows that I’m sneaking off. She probably guessed that I’m sneaking off with you, and she is so full of judgment.” He just sounded amused, like it was normal for his thirteen-year-old sister to be judgmental of her brother’s choice, nothing to do with the fact that it was Cormal.
Cormal couldn’t help but let out a crack of laughter that made Kinan smile.
“She knows that it’s safe enough for me to be out here, and I think she still feels bad about all the years we were stuck together, even though it was what kept me alive.
She’s going to tell them that I’m being moody in my room for as long as possible, then use the old ‘you just missed him’ trick, and hopefully by the time anyone figures out that I’m not actually there, we’ll be back. ”
Cormal wasn’t sure if this was really clever or really dumb.
“Don’t you have lessons?” he asked.
Kinan shrugged. “I’m taking a break. It’s not like there’s a fixed timeline for catching up on missed years of education.”
And he was here now. Cormal was going to have to trust Princess Larenia. Maybe they really could make it work.
“Thanks,” he said again, still kind of stunned.
Kinan climbed off Delana’s horse, and it really did mostly look like he did it like normal—but he stepped right through Delana’s foot in the stirrup. Why could Kinan sit on the horse but go through Delana’s foot?
She waited until Kinan was mounted up behind Cormal.
“I’ll run interference as well,” Delana promised, glaring sternly at Cormal. “Do try not to die.”
He laughed. “I’ll try. Thank you.”
And then she was heading back to the castle, and Cormal was heading onward, not alone, when he’d been certain up to this point that it was his only option.
“Thank you,” he said again, because he couldn’t really get over it. He’d been completely in the wrong, and Kinan was supporting him anyway.
“You’re welcome. I’m only sorry that I can’t feel you right now, because then my cock would be right up against your ass for this whole ride.”
This surprised a laugh out of Cormal, which turned into a groan as his cock reacted rather predictably to this announcement.
“Hey, not fair.”
Kinan’s voice was right next to his ear, and Cormal wished with everything in him that he could feel the man as well as see and hear him. (Never mind that if Kinan was solid, the two of them shouldn’t be riding tandem.)
“Now we’re a matched pair.”
Right, because the image of the very aroused man behind him was going to make it easier for Cormal to concentrate and actually ride his horse. He shivered, and Kinan laughed, the joyful sound echoing around them.
And Cormal was, suddenly, very happy instead of wondering if he was riding to his doom.
He might still be doing that, of course, which he would very much prefer not to do in front of Kinan. But there was a chance it could work out, too.
And now that Kinan was with him, well—maybe they could see right away if Perian could help him. Surely, Perian wouldn’t turn Kinan down to his face, no matter how he felt about Cormal.
When Cormal had left the castle, he’d headed east towards the second watch station.
Perian lived about two thirds of the way to the watch station, but a bit further south.
They’d passed out of the more built-up area around Royal City and into farmland and scattered copses of trees, many looking skeletal but oddly beautiful without their leaves.
The evergreen trees offered welcome color to the landscape.
Since Cormal hadn’t ridden this much in ages and wasn’t actually in a hurry—apart from the fact that he wanted to get this over with—they took their time, not straining Fireball.
They took relatively frequent breaks, giving Cormal the chance to stretch his legs and use his fire to warm himself.
He could summon fireballs on his horse’s back; of all the horses of his acquaintance, Fireball was the most tolerant of such behavior, but he still didn’t like it.
While Cormal’s clothing was immune to burning while he was wearing it, the same was not true for the horse he was riding, and Cormal didn’t like to make him nervous like that, not when they weren’t fighting demons and hurling fireballs from horseback was actually necessary.
It was easier to bundle up on the horse and warm up on his breaks.
“You’re never cold, huh?” Cormal said, observing the way that Kinan was dressed just the way he usually was, and he didn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable.
Kinan shook his head, his expression rueful. “I know it’s actually a good thing in circumstances like this, but you don’t know how much I wish…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Cormal did know. Of course he’d trade these moments of discomfort for everything else he would gain.
“I wish we could trade places,” Cormal told him.
Kinan swallowed visibly. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, least of all you. But thank you.”
It was awful when someone you cared about was suffering and there was nothing you could do about it. Cormal really wouldn’t be able to blame Brannal if he wouldn’t even listen to Cormal’s attempt at an apology.
The days were short this late in the year, but Cormal had arranged his stop at an inn they often frequented on the way to the second watch station.
The Bluebell Inn was a small, cozy place where Cormal was recognized, so they had to be careful that no one realized Kinan’s…
unique circumstances. It had been impossible to prevent all the rumors from leaving the castle, and a man who couldn’t be touched would give too much away.
It might not be possible to hurt Kinan physically, but Cormal didn’t want him hurt emotionally, either.
People would gawk, and Kinan would hate that.
So Kinan dismounted behind a screen of trees, and then Cormal headed into the yard alone, as previously planned—and Kinan sneaked in once the coast was clear. (It was way easier to sneak around when you could pass through walls, making locks no impediment at all.)
Cormal had asked for an early dinner in his room, claiming he wanted to make an early start the next morning, so could he please not be disturbed again. With a laugh, he’d assured the innkeeper that he could definitely tend to his own fire.
The room was small but well-appointed, with sturdy oak furniture and a beautiful orange and yellow quilt on the bed.
Cormal made quick work of the hearty stew and warm, crusty bread, soon pushing his bowl aside. He got ready for bed quickly, stripping out of his clothes but leaving his shirt and sleep trousers aside—because then it was just him and Kinan alone in the room together.
“We’re going to have to be quiet, you know, since they think I’m in here by myself,” Cormal pointed out.
“I can be quiet,” Kinan promised, gray eyes luminous.
Cormal had always encouraged him to not be quiet at the castle.
Kinan had been forced to be quiet—or at least unheard—for too long.
Kinan had confessed how he’d occasionally screamed and yelled back then.
The only person who’d actually been able to hear him was Princess Larenia, and she’d known he needed to get it out.
Cormal had told him he could come scream in his workroom any time he wanted.
And then, of course, they’d come up with a much nicer reason for making Kinan yell, and Cormal had always taken great pleasure in achieving it.
But it wasn’t practical today, so they’d have to come up with something else to do.
“Maybe you need something to fill your mouth,” Cormal suggested.