Chapter Nineteen #3
Tor was an accomplished flirt and clearly capable of taking basically anyone to bed. Maybe this was only an extension of that skill, doing what made Pel comfortable, but it felt like more than that. It mattered that Tor was willing to be slow for him.
It felt like a long time since someone had gone to so much effort.
It was still a little nerve-wracking, pulling on the nightshirt, shucking the rest of his clothes, and crawling into bed.
Tor must have pulled his magic back, because the lights went out suddenly, and Pel was left with nothing but his thoughts.
It was a comfortable bed; his father might have been annoyed about the need for the royal suite, but he didn’t appear to have stinted.
Of course, he wouldn’t want anyone to think that Tond couldn’t provide comfort.
As nice as the bed was, though, Pel was absolutely not relaxed. No, he was preternaturally aware that he was in bed with someone else, not for sex but just to sleep because he’d asked for that.
Just at the moment, he couldn’t imagine sleeping ever again.
He could hear someone else breathing, and there was the rustle of fabric, and the bed jostled…
How did anyone anywhere sleep when they were in bed with someone else?
“Are you panicking over there?” Tor asked.
“No,” Pel said too fast. He blew out a breath and admitted, “Maybe a little.”
Tor laughed softly, but before Pel could decide if he was going to be offended, one of the crystal lights had been relit, and he’d been gathered up and pulled closer so that he and Tor were pressed against one another, Pel’s back tucked up against Tor’s front.
“Let’s try this,” Tor suggested.
“What if I kick you?” Pel worried.
“I’ll kick you back,” Tor promised promptly.
Pel couldn’t help but laugh, and he finally found himself beginning to relax. He squirmed around a little, both of them shifting until they were settled comfortably.
“All right?” Tor asked.
Pel hummed an agreement.
Tor had an arm wrapped around him and was stroking his fingers through his hair. It was unexpectedly soothing.
“I’m sorry I made the party so terrible,” Pel muttered.
“That was definitely not you. Besides, we made it work, didn’t we?”
Pel blew out a breath. “Yes, I suppose. But I would have enjoyed dancing with you when I didn’t want to punch you in the face.”
Tor laughed softly. “Yes, that was pretty awkward. Would it help to know that it was only one of the most awkward dances I’ve ever experienced?”
Pel grinned, even though Tor couldn’t see him. “Only if you tell me all about it.”
He could hear the smile in Tor’s voice. “Well, the thing about being the High Prince is that I’m kind of in demand.
Being the identical brother of the High Crown Prince—and then High King—was a whole level of confusion on its own.
People always wanted to connect with me, but it was almost never for me as me, you know?
They were hoping for political power or other advancement.
Or maybe they’d been instructed to try to seduce or charm me by their parents, and they didn’t even want to be there.
Or perhaps they actually liked me but knew nothing could come of it.
Or they were too young and clearly had a bit of a crush, and I had to be gentle with their fragile feelings, not give them hope, and ensure that I didn’t start a war with anyone. ”
Pel snorted. “All right, maybe it’s not so bad to have no one interested in you.”
Pel had always scoffed at the people fawning over Bavil and Larexa—never mind Tor—but he hadn’t thought much about what it must be like for them, always being chased but rarely being desired for themselves.
He’d assumed they must like it, he realized, and that was pretty short-sighted. Or even if they did like it, it didn’t mean it didn’t come at a cost.
“You know,” Pel admitted quietly, “I don’t think I’ve been very fair to people who aren’t in my situation.”
Tor laughed but pressed a kiss to his hair. “But I don’t think people in my situation have been very fair to people in yours.”
Which really just made both sides wrong rather than justifying their actions. Pel had always seen it as very one-sided, but it clearly wasn’t that simple.
“Can I, uh, ask you a weird question?”
It was a little easier to do this when they were tucked so cozily together and Pel didn’t have to look at the man.
“Of course.”
Quietly, he said, “What, uh, does Tendrilling feel like?”
“You ha—”
Tor cut off the question before it could be fully formed because Pel was obviously asking for a reason.
“I haven’t actually Tendrilled that many people,” Tor answered after a moment. “As you know, it doesn’t mean anything in and of itself.”
Most children, once they Manifested, Tendrilled with friends and family, or with their sweethearts once they started courting.
They were curious. Pel’s one moment of Tendrilling was when he’d been Presented to his father after he’d Manifested.
When the King had assessed his magical strength and given him the name of Pelun, the final wedge that had driven them apart.
After that, Pel had refused to Tendril with anyone, even Bavil and Larexa when they’d offered. Just the idea had been appalling, a representation of every way that he’d disappointed his father, the fear that every subsequent person would feel the same.
Tor continued, “Even though it should be something that anyone can do, and it’s not like Tendrilling means a bond, Var and I were both careful.
We didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up, deliberately or otherwise.
And it’s not like magical compatibility matters if we’re spending a night or two with someone. ”
Pel supposed that was true.
Tor resumed stroking his hair, and Pel shamelessly pushed into his hand.
“It’s nice, though,” Tor told him, voice soft and thoughtful.
“I used to do it with Varex a lot, and I still do it occasionally with Ada and Rin, although Ada hasn’t since her marriage.
Nor Varex. Maybe because they’ve bonded, they feel like they shouldn’t?
Or they don’t want to? I don’t know. The first moment is a bit odd, your magic and someone else’s connecting.
And then it’s a feeling of… possibility, I suppose.
Potential. I’ve heard that it can be stunning if you’re highly compatible, but like I said, I wasn’t on the hunt for highly compatible partners. ”
“I guess a lot of people must be curious what it’s like to Tendril the High Prince.”
Tor groaned. “Yes, everyone wants a piece of me. And back to most awkward dances, I once had someone Tendril me in the middle of the dance floor, at which point we realized we were completely incompatible. I have never felt so strong an urge to get away from someone, like our magic was trying to repel us, and we had to keep dancing.”
Pel made a face. “That must have been awful.”
Tor huffed a breath. “It wasn’t great. We stuck it out through the dance so no one would notice, but I avoided her after that. She pretended it didn’t happen, I never told anyone, and when my brother wouldn’t listen to me about bonding, I ran as far away from him as I could get.”
Pel was pretty sure that was the wrong thing to have done, but it had brought Tor to him, so he couldn’t regret the man’s choice.
Clearing his throat, Pel admitted, “If I’m being perfectly truthful, I would kind of prefer if you weren’t the High Prince.”
Tor laughed, not seeming the slightest bit offended, which was good, because it wasn’t until it came out of his mouth that Pel realized just how rude it sounded.
The amusement was obvious in Tor’s voice, “No, I got that about you. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that you’re not using me for my position.”
Pel huffed in disgust, and Tor laughed and craned his neck so that he could kiss Pel, all warmth and affection.
Pel really wasn’t sure how Tor did that. He’d been so wrong about him in so many ways. He’d seen only arrogance and heavy-handed charm, and he’d had no idea just how much tenderness and kindness was lurking inside the man.
Tor settled back against him, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling.
“We’re going to figure this out,” Tor told him. “We’ll see what we like, and we’ll try things together. Sometimes, we’ll get things wrong. Sometimes, we’ll have to compromise. And sometimes, things will be absolutely perfect. We’ll figure out what makes us happy.”
“That sounds perfect,” Pel agreed.
It sounded like more than he’d ever imagined.
He yawned, and Tor pressed a kiss to the side of his head. Pel wasn’t scared anymore. Everything felt warm and comfortable and possible, like Tor had said about Tendrilling.
“I’ll try not to kick you,” Pel mumbled.
“It will be fine,” Tor told him.
And despite all the times in his life that had taught him differently, Pel believed him.