Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Three days had passed since the whipping.
Henry had slept a lot, and he’d dutifully eaten and drunk whatever Stefano gave him.
He’d never so much as groaned or whimpered when Stefano tended to the wounds.
Not even a wince. He’d listened peacefully when Stefano read aloud.
And he’d refused to speak about anything of substance.
“In the morning I wish to walk around more. And wear proper clothing.” The corners of Henry’s mouth curled and he pulled at his loose nightshirt.
In the chair beside the bed, Stefano tried not to look nervous. “Are you certain you’re ready for that?”
“If I have to spend another day doing nothing but lolling in bed, I will lose my mind.”
“You could walk to our sitting room and back,” Stefano grudgingly allowed.
“I’d like to go farther than that.”
“But if you did, I could not accompany you. Father has confined me here for a week.”
Henry’s handsome face twisted. “He already punished you.”
“He punished you.”
“I suspect you’ve suffered more than I. At any rate, why must he treat you like a child? Has he forgotten that you’re twenty-five?”
Stefano hadn’t wanted the conversation to take this turn. “I can have some of the guards accompany you on a walk.”
“No.” Henry huffed impatiently. “If you’re to be a prisoner, then so will I. Are you allowed in the garden at least?”
“He… didn’t specifically forbid it. But he also didn’t specifically permit it, and I won’t risk another whipping.”
“He wouldn’t even know.”
This argument could wait until morning. “Can I get you more tea? Something else to eat?”
“I’ve done nothing today but eat and sleep, and I feel like an animal being fattened for market. You, on the other hand, have eaten almost nothing. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“I’m not hungry.” Stefano forestalled more discussion by stomping into the dressing room, where he donned his nightclothes. They felt odd against his skin because he rarely wore anything to bed, even in winter—although he had dressed for the past three nights.
By the time Stefano returned to the bedroom, Henry appeared to be asleep.
Even once the candles were doused, the room wasn’t completely dark.
The open curtains allowed in bright moonlight through the glass.
Sometimes he enjoyed going outdoors to listen to the night creatures scurry.
In the spring, frogs sang a chorus from the pond.
Tonight he left nature to its own devices and started to turn back the blankets on the cot.
“Come to bed with me, Stef.” Henry’s sleepy voice was a warm caress.
“I don’t want to jostle you.”
“I could do with a jostle. Come on. Please?”
Although Stefano yearned for his embrace, he remained by the cot. “You’re injured.”
“I’ve been hurt worse than this sparring with the guards.” Henry’s tone grew sharper. “No need to flagellate yourself when I’ve already been whipped in your stead. Come into your own bed, Your Royal Highness.”
Somehow the mocking made it easier to obey. Stefano crossed the room and climbed onto the high mattress, but he did so slowly, carefully—until Henry grabbed his upper arm and hauled him aboard.
“Ow.” Stefano rubbed his arm, wondering if it would bruise. Hoping it would. Then he lay down, flat on his back like a corpse and with an acre of land between their bodies.
Henry, who couldn’t yet lie on his back, was instead on his side, facing Stefano. “Come closer. I’m cold.”
“No, you’re not.” It had been a warm day—Stefano had felt the sunshine through the window glass—and the room was almost balmy.
“Perhaps I should go sleep on the cot. It is my proper bed, after all.”
“This is your bed,” Stefano replied with a sigh. Henry could be incredibly obstinate, and the beating hadn’t changed that. “But I don’t see how you can stand to be near me.”
Henry paused for a moment, clearly choosing his words carefully. “What made the king so unhappy with you?”
Stefano didn’t want to discuss this, but he supposed that he owed Henry an explanation. “The High Council was discussing plans for Innisbar.”
“What’s tha— Oh. The region he annexed last year?”
“That’s one word for it.” Stefano made a rude noise.
“Another word is stole. He threatened Fraysia with war if they didn’t cede it, and they were already weak from— Well, it doesn’t matter.
The region is ours now. It’s mostly unspoiled wilderness.
The council believes that the hills are rich in copper and silver, and they wish to start mining there.
The king is keen on the idea. But I spoke out against it.
” He could still taste his own words from that meeting; they tasted like ashes.
Henry reached over to grasp Stefano’s hand. “You crossed your father in public. That’s quite rare for you.”
“Quite rare as in I never have before? Yes. But this time I was exceptionally stupid.” In fact, King Cyrus expected all three of his sons to steadfastly support everything he did.
With Philip, this wasn’t a problem. If the king said that the sun was made of butter, the heir would have ardently supported him.
Louis generally paid little attention to anything said in the council.
He was wont to stare blankly ahead—his mind undoubtedly occupied with his spell-casting and magic books—and agree absently whenever he was called on.
As for Stefano, he disagreed often, but had always kept his opinions to himself.
“Why are you opposed to his plan?” Henry’s gaze was searching and kind.
“The mining will damage the landscape and, most likely, destroy a nearby lake. The animals that live there will die.” He was aware how ridiculous this sounded. Why should he care about creatures far away? But he did, and knowing that he was powerless to help them made him feel hollow.
Henry didn’t tell him he was ridiculous. Instead, he brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed Stefano’s knuckles. “I can picture his face when you spoke up. Did it go that interesting purple hue?”
“This isn’t funny, Henry. He hurt you.” Stefano was on the verge of tears. He wanted to storm out of the room, but Henry still held his hand, so instead he simply turned his head away.
“He hurt me because it hurts you. That has always been my purpose. We’ve discussed this, Stef.
When you were a boy and more troublesome than your brothers, he had me brought in.
He fostered our friendship, knowing that you had no other friends.
And then he used your love for me as a way to control you. He still does.”
Stefano knew all of these things, and they sickened him.
He had been a desperately lonely child, left to the indifferent care of servants and the harsh education of tutors.
He’d clung immediately to Henry, not even considering at first how Henry was affected by being separated from his previous life and used as little more than a disciplinary tool.
Eventually, though, Stefano had looked beyond himself to understand Henry’s position.
To be hurt by Henry’s beatings more than if he’d been beaten himself.
And gods, he’d come to love Henry so deeply.
The fact that his love was used against them was a perversion.
Henry kissed his hand again. “He had me whipped this time in order to humiliate you and weaken your status among the councilors.”
“Yes.”
“But you must understand something. I willingly accept your punishments. I rejoice in the pain because it is I that endures it and not you. You have my heart, my beloved. My soul. I would peel off my skin to warm you if you shivered. I may not have been given a choice in the matter, but that is of no consequence because, no matter what, I will always choose you. It is an honor to serve you.”
Stefano knew very well why he loved Henry, who was strong and kind and smart and beautiful. He could never quite comprehend why Henry loved him back, although there was no doubt that he did.
“You should sleep,” Henry said. “You haven’t been looking after yourself these past days.”
Stefano stared glumly until Henry gave his shoulder a brisk shake. “If you really want to help me, Your Highness, stop blaming yourself. It’s not fair, and it does neither of us any good.”
Fueled by a burst of anger, Stefano sat upright and threw his hands into the air. “Then what should I do? Pretend to support my father’s plans, no matter how abhorrent I find them? Or speak my mind and watch as he abuses you? The next time will be worse, you know.”
“I do know.”
“How many times will it take until he kills you?”
An odd look passed over Henry’s face. “Then he would have no more tool to use against you. You could speak as freely as you wished.”
Stefano gasped as if he’d been hit. He felt as if he’d been hit, somewhere in the center of his chest perhaps, and drawing breath was a struggle.
“No,” he rasped. He wanted to say more, to explain that without Henry, his world would hold no light, no warmth.
But he realized that would place an additional burden on Henry’s already scarred back.
Instead, Stefano willed his heart to beat steadily.
“You must go,” Stefano said.
Puzzled, Henry frowned. “You wish me to sleep on the cot?”
“I wish you to leave the kingdom.” That was the worst lie Stefano had ever uttered, but he continued as if it were true. “You are not a prisoner here. You are not bound or indentured in any way. I can give you plenty of funds to establish yourself beyond our borders, where you will be safe.”
For a long moment, Henry said nothing. Stefano hoped with all his might that Henry would agree to leave—and also feared it more than death itself. Then Henry moved quickly, pushing Stefano flat against the mattress and hopping onto him so that Henry was seated atop Stefano’s groin.
“You shouldn’t mo—”
“Shut up, Stef.” Henry settled in a bit more. Fabric lay between them, but it was only the thin linen of their nightclothes and might as well have not existed at all. “So long as you love me, I will never leave you. Do you love me?”
Stefano put his hands on Henry’s hips, intending to push him away. But his hands simply remained there, comfortable against long-familiar contours. And he could not bring himself to lie again. “I love you.”
Henry’s smiles had enchanted Stefano from the day they met.
It wasn’t only that they made him even more beautiful; they were also an invitation.
They meant that Stefano was included, that this remarkable person was made happier by Stefano’s presence.
Far from fading, the smiles’ effects had intensified over the years.
And now, despite all the difficulties that Stefano and Henry faced, that smile eased Stefano’s anxieties.
He could almost believe that they would find lasting joy together.
“So you see?” Henry looked almost cheerful. “I cannot leave you.”
“That’s foolish of you.”
Henry tugged a lock of Stefano’s hair. “Nonetheless.” His expression turned serious. “We could leave together.”
Stefano blinked at him. “I can’t go.”
“Why not? The king’s edict has confined you to these rooms, but only for a few days.
Surely you could move freely after that.
You’ve never much fancied this palace anyway, nor your role as prince.
You could take enough money for us to get by for a while.
” Henry shrugged. “Or don’t. We’re both strong and well-educated.
We can find a way to earn a bed and our daily bread.
In fact, what about those university people you correspond with in Ostrela?
I’d wager they’d be delighted to have you lecture about birds and bugs and the like. ”
For a few heartbreaking moments Stefano could picture this very clearly: wearing black robes, surrounded by books and papers and eager students.
Henry would enjoy accompanying him as they explored the city or immersed themselves in nature, and he’d have the opportunity to pursue his own interests as well.
Tied less formally than a servant to a prince, Henry could have time to discover who he was, independent of his role.
But what if the king, furious, demanded Stefano’s return?
The Ostrelan ruler was not a particularly strong man—Stefano had met him a few times—and would not dare to defy the king’s demands.
If he did, it might even cause a war. Or perhaps the king would take a quieter, more direct approach, and send people to kidnap Stefano and drag him back. What would happen to Henry then?
Or… what if the king would be relieved to be rid of his troublesome youngest son?
Then it would be Stefano’s responsibility to support himself and Henry.
He’d never worked for a wage, never handled his own affairs.
He didn’t even know how to cook or clean up after himself.
He might fail terribly, and then Henry would suffer.
“I’m afraid,” he admitted.
Henry’s shoulders drooped slightly and he dismounted, but only to lie snuggled up against Stefano’s side. “It would change your life completely,” he said softly. “That is a terrifying notion.”
“I’m not like you. I’m not brave.”
“You’ve been cowed and constrained since birth, but somewhere inside you is a strong man, a man with the will to shape his own destiny.” Henry settled a palm over Stefano’s chest. “You will find a way to set that man free.”
That man is withered, Stefano thought. He’s nothing but a dried husk, and soon he’ll crumble to dust. But instead of saying those things aloud, he kissed Henry’s forehead.