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“Got it. Watch your back.”
Drayce hummed happily. “Love you, too.”
A noise he couldn’t quite describe escaped Caelan. “Idiot,” the king murmured, and in that word was a wealth of warmth and love. He ended the call, and Drayce might have continued to hum to himself as he shot off a quick text to Eno and Rayne demanding their location.
Plopping down in the center of the flat roof, Drayce gazed around at the skyline in front of him. The immediate neighborhood looked to be mostly town houses and apartment buildings. All residences and all a bit eclectic based on what he could see of the styles and colors through the different windows. He liked the overall unique feel of the city, but it didn’t compare to Stormbreak.
Returning to the Erya capital after being away for so incredibly long had felt good. It felt like coming home—something he’d never had while living among his kind on the Isle of Stone. If he returned now, though, he was sure Clan Omari could become that for him one day.
Not that it was ever going to happen. He was never going to leave Caelan. Stormbreak was his home for now, but his real home, the place he truly belonged, was at Caelan’s side.
The week they’d spent waiting in Stormbreak after their return had been nice. There had been plenty of questions about where he’d been and why he’d seemed so thin. The lost weight was mostly fixed now, and he’d gotten good at dodging questions.
Tomas, the captain of the Royal Guard, had immediately pulled him aside and had him fitted for a Royal Guard uniform. While he wasn’t officially a member because he’d never completed the training, he was close enough. The argument was that it raised fewer questions about why he was constantly following the king. Caelan had even threatened a few times to make him a lord like Eno and Rayne, but there hadn’t been enough time to draw up the paperwork. Everyone who saw the king on a daily basis just understood that he had two personal bodyguards—Lord Eno Bevyn and scrawny, scrappy Drayce Ladon.
But it was still coming. The title, the official position in the king’s court, all the duties that came with being the bodyguard.
Unless Caelan decided to announce to the world that they were dating.
Did the king’s boyfriend have royal duties? Oh shit, would he have to cut ribbons and hold babies for pictures now?
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a baby. And what if he cut someone with those big gold scissors? Or worse…dropped a baby?
Thankfully, Drayce’s phone vibrated in his hands, jolting him from the darkening whirlpool of thoughts sucking him down.
The text was from Rayne, and it was simply an address.
Drayce rolled his eyes. Fucking Rayne. All business. How in the world did Eno put up with his shit?
And how do I know your dumb asses didn’t get captured and this isn’t a trap? Drayce typed.
He waited nearly a minute before the three dots briefly appeared indicating that one of them was typing. But it wasn’t a message. Eno had sent a selfie of him and Rayne in front of what appeared to be a shop that sold colorful scarves. Eno had the biggest, goofiest grin while Rayne did not appear amused in the least. But there was no denying that Rayne’s head was resting on Eno’s shoulder. Gods, was he looking at the couple’s first selfie together?
Cackling like a loon, Drayce saved the pic and responded that he was on his way. He then texted the picture to Caelan with the caption: Idiots in Love.
With the address added to his GPS, Drayce climbed to the street and set off. He moved slower, peeking around every corner for any sight of Ilon soldiers, Empire soldiers, or even cops.
It took him the better part of half an hour to reach the street filled with shops just outside of the larger Bazaar building. And it was not because he got lost…twice. Or that he stopped at a tiny hat store to purchase a new trilby to replace the first one.
The address turned out to be for a tiny café with enough room for three small round tables and wobbly wire chairs. Rayne and Eno were seated so close together they were touching from shoulder to knee. A couple of cups filled with coffee were in front of them, but they seemed forgotten as they spoke softly while keeping their eyes on their phones.
Drayce dropped into the open seat opposite them and grinned. “Did you order me anything?”
“Here you go, sir,” a pleasant woman’s voice said as a mug with foam and some sort of sprinkles was placed in front of him. “Triple caramel latte with cocoa sprinkles. Enjoy!” Drayce barely saw the woman twirl away from the corner of his eye. His gaze was locked on his drink.
“Oh my gods, you do love me,” Drayce moaned before picking up his drink and consuming half of it.
“Any trouble?” Eno inquired.
Drayce shook his head. “Nah. Lost them easy enough. You?”
“We ducked briefly into the Bazaar and lost him in the crowd,” the bodyguard replied in a low voice. “The cell signal is shit in there. We popped out to contact you.”
Drayce licked a bit of foam off his lip and set his nearly empty mug down. The combination of heat and caffeine were already working their magic on his mind, sharpening and focusing his thoughts. “What’s going on here? Ilon and New Rosanthe soldiers in Brightspire. That ain’t good.”
“Ilon’s soldiers are likely here because of the Empire, either to enforce whatever deal was made or to eject the invaders,” Rayne murmured. He put his phone facedown on the table and picked up his drink. He took a small sip and set it aside again.
“So, should we be avoiding the Ilon soldiers or not?” Drayce asked.
