“I’m sorry the coffee was only tolerable. I’ll have to see about finding something you would at least rate as good.”
Tyche turned his head to Shey and grinned, making it clear his pompous speech was all a joke. “Thank you. This was unnecessary, and you know it. You could have left me in that cave, and I wouldn’t have thought any less of you. We had our agreement to help each other out of there. That agreement was fulfilled the moment we hit the woods.”
The thought hadn’t even crossed Shey’s mind while Tyche was sleeping in that cave. In fact, Shey had barely slept at all that night, fearful that the guards would find them, and he wouldn’t be able to protect his companion.
They’d talked a little about it while they’d been in the cave, but the truth of it was that Shey wasn’t ready to let Tyche go. He needed to see that Ty was safe. That this insane group hell-bent on taking over Damardor and New Rosanthe wouldn’t recapture Tyche the second he left Shey’s sight. But he didn’t want to look too closely at this need to keep Tyche safe.He was a fucking god!He would think Shey’s desire to protect him was ridiculous.
“You could have left me in the woods,” Shey pointed out.
“Pfft. I was too tired.”
A smile tugged at Shey’s lips as he stared at his happy friend. “You know, you told us who you are, but you’ve never asked me about my identity. Or how I know a member of the Erya royal guard and a dragon.”
“What? You think I don’t know that you’re Shey Thrudesh-Vo, crown prince of Caspagir, only son of Queen Noemi and brother to Princess Fiona? You’re silly.”
Shey leaped from the bed and towered above Tyche. “What? Who told you? Was it Haru? Haru told you, right?”
The shorter man cackled wildly and rolled onto his side, but gripped his stomach and moaned. “Stop! Stop! Don’t make me laugh. I’ll throw up.”
“I’d tickle you if I wasn’t worried about being covered in the mess you’d make,” Shey threatened, which made Tyche giggle and moan more.
Well, there went that exciting revelation.
He flopped onto Tyche’s bed, fighting the urge to kick him in the leg for all his snickering. “When did you figure it out?”
Tyche rolled to face him and propped his head up on his hand. “Gradually, using a bit of logic and the things that you let slip out. It’s clear from your manner and speech that you have a military background as well as a proper education. Your accent puts you from Caspagir. Especially when you talk in your sleep. Then it was obvious you were from Sirelis, which is also the home of the royal family. A couple of times, our fingers brushed as we shared rolls?—”
“You mean when Igaveyoumy roll,” Shey corrected.
Tyche shot him a look and continued, “There was a little spark. Same for the extra static charge in the air. That made me think of Kaes. The God of Storms was a tightly hidden secret in Caspagir, so that meant that you were from the royal family or very high in the royal guard.” He paused in his explanation and flashed Shey an almost patronizing smile. He lifted his lefthand and traced his index finger along his left cheek, right where Shey’s scar was.
Shey rolled his eyes. “You made it seem like you were out of touch with everything going on. I didn’t think you’d even heard of me.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I am totally out of touch with the wider world. However, even I’ve heard of the daring boy prince who battled wolves and came out with only a scar on his cheek. The debonair playboy prince who battled monsters by day and wooed the masses at night. The man who would be Caspagir’s next great king.”
A low moan broke from Shey’s throat, and he dropped back on the bed with a bounce. He covered his face with both hands while listening to Tyche’s wild giggles. “I think I liked it better when I thought you didn’t know who I was,” he called out, his voice muffled by his hands.
To his surprise, the other bed squeaked, and a moment later the mattress dipped next to him. He lowered his hands to find Tyche stretched out next to him, the same playful grin on his face. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of treating you like a prince, because you clearly have no plans to worship me as your most benevolent and powerful god.”
Shey stared at Tyche for a couple of heartbeats, letting his gaze wander over his features, taking them in. Since their escape, they had spent a lot of time running, worrying about getting caught, and fighting. This felt like the first time they could slow down and he could look at the man he’d spent the past few weeks talking to through a wall.
He had this wild hair that was all these different lengths, some strands falling to his jaw while others dropped nearly to his ass. It had looked reddish-brown in the prison, but after washing it, his hair had taken on a much redder tint. It wasalso fuller, leaving him wanting to reach out and wrap a length around his finger.
The man’s features were sharp and harsh, but Shey wondered how much of that came from losing weight during the past several months. Were they usually softer, rounder? However, the sharp cut of his jaw and the jut of his cheekbones did nothing to detract from the fullness of his lips that seemed to turn permanently into a mocking grin now.
This was the God of Luck? He acted more like he should be the God of Mischief. The God of Snark. The God of Sleeping In, Weekends, and Long Holidays. The God of Coffee.
“There is one thing I don’t know,” Tyche said in a playful, lilting tone.
“I doubt there’s only one thing you don’t know.”
The god didn’t blink an eye at that comment. “You still haven’t told me who this Rayne is?”
Shey swore and sat up. Tyche joined him, looking as if he would follow Shey no matter where he went. The painful digestion phase was complete, and Tyche was prepared to gorge himself on some steamy tea.
“Come on. You promised to tell me. Adrian even mentioned his name. There was talk of a wedding in Erya. Sounded as if even the king was in attendance. This must be an important person. Please, Shey. Tell me. In all the weeks that we were locked up together, Rayne was the only name you ever let slip. Tell me.”
“It’s boring,” Shey warned, climbing to his feet.
