He just had to find a willing soul to dally with.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the movements of a slow-moving figure slinking across the yard—and whoever this was, theywereslinking. They had a battered, wide-brimmed hat pulled down low over their face and they were progressing at a snail’s pace, pressing their back against any available wall and pausing before almost gliding to the next bit of wall.
Felix stood out of sight inside the stable doors and watched, intrigued. Was it a spy? An assassin? Someone sneaking away to meet a lover? Or was this just an adult version of Davin, someone skiving off from his duties? Whoever it was, as they got closer, Felix was able to make out that it was a grown man, tall and well-built, and his attention was captured by the man’s deliciously thick neck. Despite his face being obscured, Felix felt drawn to the stranger, enchanted by both his solid musculature and his almost feline manner of gliding forward.
Perhaps it was because he’d just been thinking about such things, but Felix couldn’t help but wonder if the man would make the same lithe, catlike movements if Felix were to take him to bed and whether he’d crawl up the mattress while wearing a wicked smirk. He poked his head out the door a fraction to see better in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the stranger’s face, and it was then that he realised the man was heading straight for the stables.
He ducked back inside, mind racing. Should he clatter about a bit to make his presence known and give him the chance to change course? Or should he stay hidden and see what he was up to?
Really, Felix already knew what he’d do—he’d always been the curious sort. He slipped back inside and hid in the shadows of the empty stall that was next to Blackbird’s. If the stranger intended mischief, he’d be in an excellent position to put paid to his plans and put all that training with his father to use. And if his intentions were more innocent, and it was just someone coming to take a break from his daily routine?
Well, the man in questiondidhave marvellously broad shoulders, and Felix had more than fulfilled his own duties for the day. Perhaps, if the stranger was agreeable, he could offer him an afternoon’s entertainment.
It couldn’t hurt to ask.
ChapterFour
Leopold slipped across the yard towards the stables. The homespun shirt that he’d filched from a pile in the laundry room was rough against skin that was more used to soft linen. He ignored the itch. It was a small price to pay for being able to move unseen through the castle.
He wasn’t so foolish as to think he wouldn’t be seen, but he’d done all he could to make himself unmemorable. He’d acquired a long leather coat from a hook on the back of the boot room door that trailed almost to the ground and hid most of his well-cut trousers—there was a limit to which garments belonging to strangers he was willing to wear, after all. He’d also worn his good riding boots in anticipation of being able to take Blackbird out, but once he’d hidden his distinctive dark hair with a battered hat that might have belonged to one of the gardeners, he was satisfied that a casual observer, at least, wouldn’t mark him as anyone important.
After picking his way across the stretch of distance between the laundry room and the stable, flattening himself against any available wall and checking that Mattias wasn’t lying in wait for him as he sometimes did, he made it safely to the stables. He slipped inside and stood with his body pressed flat against the door, eyes adjusting to the dim interior. There was nobody in sight and he took a moment to inhale, the tension leaving him as his nostrils filled with the rich, familiar scents of fresh straw, horse sweat, and the undercurrent of dung. He sometimes wished he’d been born into a life like this rather than one of duty and expectation. But the thought was only ever fleeting and usually a result of petulance at being denied his own way. In reality, for all his grizzling, he was aware of his privileged position and knew that plenty of people would gladly trade places.
Besides, if he wasn’t the king, he doubted he’d have a gorgeous girl like his Blackbird.
He approached the horse, admiring the state of her glossy black coat and well-brushed mane and tail. Whoever the new groom was, they knew what they were about. Leopold resolved to make time to meet them, if only so he could charm them into turning a blind eye when he wanted to sneak out like this. Mother Jones, his ridiculously named stable master, had standing instructions to send a boy to inform the chancellor, much to Leopold’s chagrin.
Blackbird tossed her mane in recognition and Leopold petted her, running the flat of his palm along her cheek. “Hello there, pretty,” he murmured. “Shall I take you for a ride?”
The horse nickered in agreement and blew out a great wet breath, turning her head and nuzzling hopefully against his hand. Leopold fed her the sugar lump he was hiding there and patted her cheek again before going to fetch his saddle. It was a bulky, heavy thing. Under normal circumstances he would have sent word and Blackbird would have been prepared for him by his groom, but Leopold had always prided himself on his fitness and it was no problem for him to lift the saddle from the rack where it was kept and carry it across the stables to Blackbird’s stall. He was almost there when, from the darkness, a voice rang out.
“Tell me, have you a death wish?”
Leopold fumbled the saddle, almost dropping it, and whirled on his heel to find himself facing someone he’d never seen before. “What?”
A young man stood there, arms folded across his chest. He nodded at the saddle. “I only ask because that’s the king’s saddle, which makes me think you were about to steal the king’s horse, and he won’t take kindly to that.”
Leopold took a moment to look his accuser over before replying. The young man was tall, lean but not lanky, and he had messy dark hair and expressive features that were marked by a determined crease between his brows. He was undeniably attractive beneath the frown.
This must be Blackbird’s new groom, and he obviously had no idea who Leopold was. “Let me guess. You’re the groom, and you’re loyal to your king?” he said, secretly pleased at finding someone who was a devoted subject.
“What? Hells no. I don’t give a damn about the king. But I’ve been warned that there’s a stick jammed fair up the royal arse when it comes to his horse, and I’d like to keep my job past the first week. So if you could find a different horse to steal, or better still take none at all, I’d appreciate it.”
Leopold raised an eyebrow. “And if I insist on taking this one?”
“Oh, then I’ll definitely hunt you down and hurt you,” the young man said without a trace of a smile. “It’s my job.”
Leopold let out a disbelieving snort, vaguely insulted that his impressive physique wasn’t giving the young man so much as a moment’s pause. “You think thatyoucould hurtme?” He puffed out his chest. “I could bend you in half over that tack table and not even break a sweat doing it.”
Leopold only realised what he’d said when a slow smile spread over the young man’s face and his gaze travelled up and down Leopold’s body in a manner that was both disconcerting and flattering and made Leopold’s heart beat faster. “I’m sure you could, and with all that muscle of yours, I’d probably rather enjoy it. But bending me over the tables aside, I still can’t let you take the king’s horse, I’m afraid. Although you are rather handsome. Leave the horse and I might be persuaded to let you go if you win my favour.” The groom’s smile widened, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.
Leopold was torn between being offended by the young man’s assertion that he had a stick up his arse and intrigued by his proposition—because it definitelywasa proposition, judging by the way the groom appeared to be waiting for an answer. He decided to play along, the thrill of anonymity making him bold. “And how, exactly, would I win your favor?” he asked, lifting the saddle and hefting it over the rail of the stall while noting the way the young man’s gaze followed his flexing muscles. He took a step so they were almost within touching distance, folded his arms over his chest in a way that displayed his build to best advantage, and waited.
The groom’s tongue traced over his lower lip at the same time his gaze continued to roam over Leopold’s body, his interest obvious. “I’m just saying that perhaps you could return that saddle, and instead of riding the horse, we could find another way to fill your afternoon and get your heart racing.”
Oh, this was tremendous.
His new groom wasseducinghim. This was the most fun Leopold had had in ages, and if he played his cards right, it might just get better. He smirked and stepped up so close that they were almost toe to toe, placing himself firmly in the lad’s space. It had been far too long since anyone had captured his interest like this fearless, forward little brat who was making his blood heat and want thrum through his veins in a way that he had sorely missed. “Are you suggesting a roll in the hay, sweetheart?” he purred, right into the lad’s ear.
