TYCHE
NINE
After the fight with Damardor or New Rosanthe or whatever they were calling themselves now, the various leaders had closed themselves off from everyone else to talk about how to proceed with the war that was growing faster than anyone might have expected.
Adrian had taken Haru somewhere quiet so he could rest.
But in the end, it was none of his business. The only thing that mattered to him was getting Yesuntei’s powers out of Haru and delivered to Brightspire. That was something that would need to be discussed with Nori and the others, but first, they had to figure out their war.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Shey’s stern voice jolted Tyche from his wine-dulled thoughts.
He jerked upright, clutching the nearly full jar of wine.
He lifted his head, his eyes traveling up Shey’s strong legs, flat stomach, wide muscular chest to land on his grumpy expression.
Even in the dim light, he could see the heavy scar cutting along Shey’s face, making his frown even more frightening.
This man would have made an excellent God of War.
Everything about him was fierce and powerful.
Except for when he smiled, which he did surprisingly often. Then his blue eyes warmed, the scar disappeared, and that weird flutter in the pit of Tyche’s stomach returned. What the hell was that about?
“I was about to send out a search party for you.” Shey dropped to sit next to Tyche. He leaned on the tree behind Tyche and plucked the jar out of his hands. A sound of protest broke from Tyche’s throat, but he’d yet to pull together words. Maybe he was feeling a bit buzzed from the wine.
His lips crooked into something like a grin. “You were going to send out a bunch of dragons to search for a god?”
Shey snorted and held up the jar, giving it a shake so that the wine sloshed about.
“Hey! Don’t spill it!” Tyche grabbed the jar and clutched it to his chest.
“You’re drunk. I would never have guessed that a god could get drunk.”
“Pfft. We can get lots of things, for your information. But no, I’m not drunk. Just a little bit…fuzzy.”
Shey reached out and stole the jar of wine again.
Before Tyche could complain, Shey took a drink.
Tyche’s eyes locked on the thick expanse of his throat, watching as his Adam’s apple hypnotically bobbed with each swallow.
What would it feel like to nuzzle that throat?
It would probably be so warm on his nose and lips.
“Whoa. That’s good. And strong.”
Shey’s words tugged Tyche from his random thoughts. Okay, so maybe he was fuzzier than he’d first thought. He accepted the jar from Shey and took a sip. “How’d the meeting go?”
The prince lounged on the ground, his shoulder pressing on Tyche’s as he sank low enough that their heads were at the same height. “About how you might expect.”
Tyche snorted. “I have no idea what kings and princes would talk about when another country makes up a bunch of bullshit and picks fights. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”
Shey’s smile returned, but it was short-lived. It fell away, and he reached for the jar that Tyche had set on the ground between them. “It was all about next steps and making a strategic response of equal weight.”
A pained groan left Tyche’s parted lips, and he tipped his head to the side so that his temple now rested on Shey’s shoulder. “What? Dumb it down for me. Assume I don’t speak politics.”
The muscular shoulder shook with silent laughter.
“It means that Megumi and Uki wanted several squadrons of dragons to fly south to Aswa and burn the old New Rosanthe capital to the ground for daring to attack the Isle of Stone and Nori. Caelan said he wanted to send his navy to destroy all the Order’s boats while calling up his army to start its trek south to invade New Rosanthe through Ilon.
Rayne argued that Caelan was holding on to an old grudge and that he couldn’t allow it to color his actions when the Federation of Order hadn’t technically declared war on Erya yet. ”
Tyche was pretty sure that the dragons had the best plan, followed by Caelan, but he also didn’t give a shit about being diplomatic. The people running the Order were definitely in league with the people who were running the secret torture camps. They all needed to burn.
“What about you? What’s your opinion?”
Shey sighed and rested his head on Tyche’s. “Right now, I can’t have one.”
“What? That’s not right. Of course, you can have one. And I’m pretty sure the right one is the same as Caelan’s and Megumi’s.”
Shey moved as if laughing. “No, I can’t have that one because I can’t let my reaction be personal.
My reaction must be what is right for my kingdom, and the fact of the matter is that I have no idea what is going on with my kingdom.
There’s been limited communication with the queen and our generals since we left Sirelis.
I don’t know if we’ve been attacked or invaded or if this has been a bunch of saber-rattling. ”
Tyche hummed. “So if they’re just making threatening noises, you can’t go in and sink all their ships.”
“Yes, that would make us look like assholes. We have to match their energy, which would be making threatening noises back at the Order.”
“Pfft. Sounds like New Rosanthe has been the much bigger asshole for a long time, and they need to be pounded into the dirt.” Tyche grabbed the jar of wine and took another sip before passing it over to Shey.
“You’d be popular with my generals. They all have the same opinion.
But after the fighting in the Ordas, we all—as in Erya, Caspagir, New Rosanthe, and Ilon—came to an agreement to declare peace and leave what happened with the Goddess of the Hunt in the past. New Rosanthe argued that the goddess brainwashed the emperor, and it wasn’t his fault that he started the war. ”
“Wow. That’s some crazy bullshit right there.”
“Yeah, we secretly know it, but Caelan was the first to agree to the terms. If the king whose parents were killed was willing to agree to the terms, there wasn’t much sense in the rest of us kicking up a fuss. We signed the treaty and went home.”
“What you’re saying is that you can’t use their past shitty behavior as a reason to start a war now?”
“Pretty much.”
“Glad I’m not king. That all sounds like a headache to me.” The words were barely out of his mouth when Tyche realized what he was saying. He winced and tacked on, “Sorry.”
“No, you’re right. It can be a headache. Sometimes I’m looking forward to it because I believe I can accomplish a lot of positive things for my people.”
There was a long pause, and Tyche felt the urge to nudge him. “Other times?”
“I want to sneak off somewhere and live a quiet life in the mountains. Let my sister Fiona take over as ruler of Caspagir.”
Tyche snickered. “You know, if I can clean up this mess I’ve made with Haru, I’m still planning to ask Nori for a tiny plot of land to grow coffee. You can always stay with me. We’ll grow coffee and trade it for dragon wine.”
Shey lifted his head and sat up enough from his lounge so he could look Tyche in the face. “Really? You’d let me live with you? I thought you preferred a solitary life.”
Heat scorched Tyche’s cheeks and spread up to the tips of his ears.
What nonsense had he been saying? He picked up the jar of wine and set it farther away.
That was enough alcohol for him. It made him talk crazy.
“Well, I mean…you wouldn’t have to live with me.
We could talk Nori into giving us enough land to build two small houses.
We could be neighbors. That’s all. I’d already be neighbors with the dragons.
It wouldn’t be a big deal if you were my neighbor, too. ”
“Uh-huh.” There was something in that low, two-syllable agreement that threatened to scramble Tyche’s barely working brain. That sound somehow became the most delicious caress, and he wanted to lean into it, hear Shey make other sounds just as enticing.
But that was silly.
Shey was still hung up on his now-married ex.
Besides, he was a god. He couldn’t be interested in a human. That was crazy. Stupid, even.
It was the wine. It was making him think ridiculous things.
“But what you were saying…you have to hurry and return home so you can find out what’s happening, right?”
Shey remained silent for several heartbeats before he grunted and returned to leaning against the tree next to Tyche.
“Yes. Caspagir has a solid alliance with Erya. There’s nothing formal with the dragons, but we have a sort of friendly agreement that I would like to get in more solid terms, but that’s a slow process.
Probably even slower since Omari Nori strikes me as a cautious guy…
er…I mean dragon. The short of it is: If the Order is attacking or attempting to invade my home, Erya has agreed to send support, whether that’s weapons, supplies, or troops.
Caelan has committed a fleet of ships to protecting the waters around the Isle of Stone, and I’m planning to send a fleet as well.
” He paused and sighed. “Assuming our ships aren’t already tied up with the Order. ”
“Are the dragons going to send any help?”
“We still need to work that out.” Shey reached across Tyche, causing him to suck in a sharp gasp as Shey stole back the jar of wine resting on the opposite side of him. He released the air only after Shey was taking a drink.
“Why does it need to be worked out?”
“Because of Haru.”
Ahhh…that was a good point. They needed to work out what to do about Haru’s possession of Yesuntei’s powers first. That was likely to determine where Nori sent his dragons.
“We ended the meeting more than an hour ago so we could get some rest,” Shey continued. “We’re hoping you and Haru could join us tomorrow so we can figure out the best course of action regarding that orb Haru is holding.”
“Yeah, of course.”