He pulled Felix into a rough hug, and Felix returned it wholeheartedly.
It was good tobeback.
Felix was looking forward to settling into his new position, getting to know the horses and the other grooms, and being able to see his family more often than his previous annual visits to Ravenport had allowed.
And from a personal viewpoint, now that he was home for good, Felix was in a place to entertain the possibility of maybe finding someone for more than a casual stroll in the meadow. While he’d enjoyed sowing his wild oats over the past few years, waking up next to a different body every morning was losing its thrill, and he was starting to yearn for something more than a fling.
Felix knew that, objectively, he was attractive. His past lovers had praised his long limbs and lean build, his honey-gold eyes and long lashes. There had even been a hasty, filthy ode composed by a lusty bard that sang the praises of his soft skin and thick, dark hair, and how perfect it was for tangling fingers in during a quick rut against a wall. He’d been told he had a mouth made for kisses and sin.
And that was all well and good, but surely there must be more? What he really wanted was to find someone with shared interests that went beyond the physical.
Surely, in a city the size of Ravenport, there must be at least one available man who’d find him attractiveandintelligent, someone who would look past his surface good looks and see the person underneath…someone who was willing to while away more than a single evening with him? Perhaps there might even be someone who worked at the castle.
He could only hope.
ChapterTwo
“Idon’twantto.” Leopold, King of Lilleforth, pouted and sat back in his ornate desk chair with a huff. He folded his arms across his broad chest just in case his long-suffering Chancellor Mattias was in any doubt about exactly how much Leopold didn’t want to sit through an entire day of meetings. “They don’t really care about what I have to say anyway. I’m just a figurehead in most of these matters. You know that.”
Mattias gave a sigh, one that seemed to have been dragged directly from the soles of his boots, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Exactly,” he said in resigned tones that spoke of having had a similar conversation countless times before. “You’re His Majesty King Leopold Augustus Salisbury, reigning monarch of Lilleforth. You’re known for being approachable, a man of the people, who oversees his kingdom with a firm but fair hand. And you know very well that part of that is you personally overseeing the quarterly budget and administration meetings. So stop pouting, put your boots back on, and pretend you give a damn. They’ll be here in ten minutes, and you’d better have stopped sulking like a stroppy child by then and be prepared to give these people the attention that they need and deserve.”
Leopold gave the man a narrow look but Mattias remained unmoved, as Leopold had known he would. His chancellor was his best friend and a necessary thorn in his side, and Leopold wouldn’t be without him—except for times like this when Mattias insisted that Leopold fulfil his role properly.
It was many years since a seventeen-year-old Mattias Allingdon had found a lost fourteen-year-old Prince Leopold wandering the woods and returned him home, but Leopold still remembered it vividly. He’d thought that his rescuer had hung the moon, and it was also the first time he’d felt the stirrings of attraction for a boy—confirmation that while his future might hold a princess or a noblewoman, there was definitely room for dalliances with a dashing young man or two along the way.
And perhaps it had been selfish, but Leopold had begged—demanded, really, with all the arrogance of youth and privilege—that his father do something to keep his interesting new friend around.
And because Leopold was the prince, of course he’d gotten his own way. At least, that was what he’d thought at the time. Looking back now, he reflected that his father’s acceptance of his demands had been far more calculated and pragmatic than he’d realised at the time.
Leopold’s mother had passed away when he was only two, and he’d been raised by nannies and nursemaids for as long as he could remember, but at fourteen he’d been something of a handful—too old for the nursery, too young for court. So when he’d taken a shine to Mattias, his father, who had been grateful to have his wandering progeny returned in one piece, had seen an opportunity to keep his son in check while giving him the illusion of freedom. He’d offered Mattias a position as Leopold’s companion, practically begging him to stay.
Mattias had jumped at the chance. It was some years later that he’d told Leopold he would have taken any opportunity to escape his drunken father and poverty-stricken home life.
And although their relationship had never developed into anything more than friendship, Leo and Mattiaswerefriends, the two of them as thick as thieves. Upon finding that Mattias was both trustworthy and level-headed, Leopold’s father had been thrilled and had put plans in motion for the boy’s future.
Mattias had received further schooling as well as hand-to-hand combat training, and once he was proficient, he was appointed Leopold’s personal bodyguard. The two boys had remained glued to each other’s side as they grew older, getting each other into and out of trouble in equal measure. Mattias, though, was always the voice of reason, and thus had been steadily rising through the ranks in the years since. He’d been helped along by the education he’d received, which had encompassed all the areas of royal protocol, diplomacy, and strategic planning that the future king’s right-hand man might need to know, because the king was no fool.
Mattias was knighted on his twenty-first birthday at Leopold’s request, and one of the first things Leopold had done upon ascending to the crown two years ago had been to appoint Mattias to the position of chancellor. There was nobody Leopold trusted more—which didn’t make it any less irritating when Mattias was right.
Leopold gave his own sigh and bent down beneath the desk to wrestle his footwear back on, grumbling under his breath about power-hungry little upstarts. When he emerged from under the desk, Mattias looked him up and down before getting out of his chair and walking round to Leopold’s side of the desk. He crouched in front of his king, straightening his collar and smoothing his hair until Leopold batted his hand away. “I assume you won’t be wearing your coronet today?”
“You just said I’m a man of the people, so no,” Leopold said, savouring the petty triumph. He hated his coronet—it was uncomfortable, and it felt like any sudden move would send it toppling—and found any excuse he could to avoid wearing it. It wasn’t an argument he always won, but today it seemed he had the victory.
Mattias threw him a rueful smile. “As you wish. I’ll go and see if they’re ready for us,Your Majesty.”
Leopold screwed up his nose at the use of his official title, but he knew why Mattias had done it. It was a gentle reminder that it was time to fall into his public persona, that of Lilleforth’s all-knowing, benevolent king, rather than a thirty-two-year-old man who had no time for unnecessary pomp and ceremony, who would rather be out riding his horse, and who still grumbled whenever he had to wear his boots indoors.
Leopold huffed, fidgeted with his collar, and settled himself with his hands clasped loosely on his desktop, leaning slightly forward and giving every appearance of an interested, engaged leader. “Go on then, send them in.”
The sooner they started, the sooner they’d be done, and if Leopold played his cards right, maybe he’d be able to persuade Mattias to go riding with him this afternoon.
* * *
Several endless hours later Leopold watched the retreating back of his housekeeper, and when he was sure she was gone and the door had closed behind her, he let out a groan and slumped forward, his head hitting the desk with a loud thunk. “Are we done?”
“We’re done.”
He didn’t need to look up to know that Mattias was rolling his eyes.
