Chapter 57 #2
Richard learned to tune the old man out.
Instead, he passed the time with Agnes. When she was not dozing, she spoke of her library, her adventures as a book collector across the realm, and Richard was captivated.
He could not imagine a younger version of her—a maiden who faced down book thieves and mercenaries to secure priceless collections.
Her stories enthralled him, and she even appeared slightly less intent on dying when she told them.
“Born, I was, Your Majesty,” she wheedled, “with the most unusual hair colour, and the villagers called me a bad omen. Well, it was certainly not bad luck that torched their tavern. Oh, do not look at me so, Your Majesty, it was they who burned a girl’s books first. And no one died.
Well, one did lose a leg, but it was well deserved. ”
Nevertheless, by the fourth day, Richard missed Kaelen deeply.
The carriage halted four times a day for the horses, but Kaelen kept his distance. Richard understood perfectly—Joffrey watched, the soldiers watched, Malgrin watched. And yet the absence of the easy talk they had grown into was an aching wound.
Richard tried, where he could, to stare at Kaelen. Dusk was an opportune time, for the soldiers made camp, allowing Richard a good view of Kaelen sharpening his blade and sparring with Joffrey.
The staring helped him relax. Since they had left Estara, a tight chain had looped around Richard’s chest, a chain that threatened to mangle him—Galdran’s smile, Gloamvarn’s forces, the harpy, Estara’s threat, Penelope’s tears, Elara’s fury, the missing siren heart.
There was so much, so so much, and the chain squeezed the breath out of him whenever he thought of it.
But then, he’d glimpse Kaelen’s smile, his dimples, and the chain would slowly—ever so slowly—unwind.
On the fifth day, after they’d crossed the border, Richard took his chance. He waited until it was the second watch of the night—Kaelen’s watch—and slipped out of the carriage. The moon illuminated the distant figure amongst the trees.
Richard crept past the fires—only embers now—and heard Joffrey’s snores rolling out of the captain’s tent.
He tiptoed over the soldiers sleeping around the fire and entered the tree line.
Kaelen’s back grew before him, and Richard had just readied to wrap his arms about Kaelen’s waist, when the world spun, and he was pinned to the grass.
A knee landed on his shoulder, and a fist drew back above his face—
Kaelen froze with wide eyes. “My king!”
Richard beamed up at him, elbow throbbing where it had cracked against the turf. “My knight.”
“What—what in the name of every god—what would you have done if I had reached for my sword?”
“I am quick enough to dodge.” Richard manoeuvred his unpinned arm to pluck a daisy near his hip. Gently, he tucked it behind Kaelen’s ear. “There.”
Kaelen’s lips twitched. With a sigh, he shifted his knee off Richard’s shoulder. “Is this your manner of apology for foisting a squire on me?”
“A king does not apologise.” Richard smiled as Kaelen frowned. “Come now. You shall make a fine teacher for her—”
“I do not wish to speak about it,” Kaelen grumbled.
Very well.” Richard tilted his head. “Let us talk of our kiss.”
Kaelen squeaked and would have reared back if Richard had not grabbed his collar. “My king?”
“Lovers kiss, do they not?” Richard dragged Kaelen’s collar closer. “And are we not lovers? Or is this a trial phase?” He chewed on his lip. “Well, if this is a trial phase, I should like to know the requirements I am to check off.”
Kaelen laughed. “There is no trial phase. And there is certainly no checklist—”
“Then let us seal our arrangement with a kiss.”
“Right. Um. About that.” The tips of Kaelen’s ears had gone pink. “Perhaps we might return to discussing the matter of my squire—”
Richard hooked a foot around Kaelen’s calf and twisted. In a blink, their position was overturned, and Kaelen landed in the grass with a yelp.
“Do tell.” Richard straddled Kaelen’s hips and leaned over, planting his hands by the knight’s head. “Why do you not wish to kiss me?” He scowled. “You kissed Ravi. Plentifully, by all accounts.”
“Ravi was different—” Kaelen grimaced. “And, um, I—I have a blister in my mouth. It—um—is oozing pus, and you shall not wish to taste it.”
Richard stared. “Let me see.”
“Richard—”
“Open. I shall examine.” Richard tried to pry at Kaelen’s lips, and found his hands caught by a giggling Kaelen.
“Stop.” Kaelen lowered the trapped hands to his chest, and his smile was very soft and very fond. He reached two fingers to tuck a strand of Richard’s hair behind his ear and cupped Richard’s cheek. “My king, you must not do this to me.”
Richard nuzzled into the hand. “Do what?”
“This.” Kaelen’s thumb caressed across Richard’s cheekbone. “I have—I have carried such a feeling for you since before I even learned what it was, and it has waited for so long and now”—his throat worked—“now you sit astride me beneath the moon, and I have you in my arms, and I am unsteadied.”
Heat rose to Richard’s cheeks.
“We are on the road,” Kaelen went on, sterner now, “and I am meant to be guarding you. What if Sir Joffrey wakes and sees—”
“Then, let him see.” Richard pouted. “Let them all see. I shall say, ‘The fault was not mine for this good man did seduce me so, with his handsome looks and sweet words, and what was a king of delicate constitution to do?’”
“Delicate?” Kaelen chuckled, his head tilting back, exposing the long line of his neck, and Richard felt the most absurd impulse to nuzzle his forehead there and hug Kaelen tight.
Solemnity returned to Kaelen’s face. “Would you mind terribly if we waited for a kiss?”
Confusion welled in Richard. Kaelen had kissed so many before, had bedded what seemed to be hundreds. Why so much hesitation over a simple kiss?
“Of course,” Richard spread his fingers against Kaelen’s shirt, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat.
“I shall not press you. Though you should know that I am not a man you shall frighten with a kiss. I have been kissed already from the few marital meetings my parents convinced me to attend, and indeed, twice by Princess Seola, who is a force to be reckoned with.”
Kaelen cleared his throat. “I see. Well, if we could speak of something else—”
“Moreover, I have read on the subject. There is a volume in the library authored by a certain Madam Chastity, and she was clear on the techniques.” Richard scratched his brow, sitting up more comfortably.
“I have been trying to recall her advice, and remembered yesterday that a kiss is to begin at the corner of the mouth, and to travel inward, the lower lip drawn between one’s own before the tongue is so much as considered. ”
Kaelen swallowed hard, his hands coming to rest at his sides, clenching and unclenching. “Richard—”
“She is most insistent on the lower lip,” Richard continued.
How had it been phrased again? “She maintains that a kiss which commences at the centre is the kiss of one with no patience and no curiosity, and that the corner of the mouth contains a great many nerves which are seldom attended to, the stimulation of which produces—”
“My king.” Kaelen had gone the colour of a beetroot, his hips shifting beneath Richard. “Please. Let us, um, not continue with this discussion.”
Richard blinked at him. “I only mean to say that I shall be competent when the time comes.” He hummed. “And I suppose if we are to wait, I shall then have the opportunity to practice with—”
The world spun, and for the second time that night, Richard found himself on his back.
Only this time, there was no fist—just Kaelen, looming over him, a knee planted between Richard’s thighs, a broad hand splayed on the turf beside Richard’s ear.
The daisy had fallen off, and Kaelen’s eyes were dark.
“No,” Kaelen said, his voice low and rippling with a strange sternness. “You shall practice with no one but me.”
Richard laughed and curled his hand around Kaelen’s nape. He guided the knight down, and their foreheads met with a gentle thud. “Do you imagine I have lovers hidden under my bed? Of course, there is only you.”
“Then—then you ought not tease me so,” Kaelen replied, blushing. He let his arms fold, and settled his head upon Richard’s chest—a warm, welcome weight. For a moment, he was quiet, then—
“Will you tell Princess Elara…of Alaric’s plan to overthrow Octavia?”
Richard stiffened. “There is no need for Elara to know. It would only cause her distress.”
“She loves Penny.” Kaelen peered up at Richard. “Surely it is her decision to make?”
“No, it is mine,” Richard said. “She is my sister, and she will stay safe with me. She can find another lover.”
The image of Aralynn’s snowdrop gems flashed through his mind. How could Elara have given them to Penelope? Had she done so even after learning of Marius’s act?
Kaelen opened his mouth, and Richard cut across.
“Please,” Richard said quietly. “I do not wish to think of such matters tonight.”
Kaelen’s eyes softened. He nodded and reached for Richard’s free hand. Almost absently, he laced their fingers together and pressed his lips to Richard’s knuckles.
Richard’s breath hitched, his skin tingling from the kiss.
Above them, the moon hung full between the trees. Richard stared, tried to forget what was to come, and wished that morning would not dawn.