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He paused and turned toward the bed, arms laden with clothes.
Mattias fidgeted, a quick involuntary movement, and Náli poked him in the side with one finger. Stop that.
“I want to commend you on your composure,” Náli said, “but I must say I’m disappointed that you’re not a little bit shocked.”
“Náli,” Mattias chided.
Einrih’s gaze shifted between them, and his brows drew together. “Forgive me, my lord,” he said, formally. “But Mattias’s affection for you, and your affection for him in turn, have not been a secret for some time.”
“Yes, but–” Náli gestured to himself, to Mattias; to the rumpled sheets and their naked torsos and the whole scandal of it all.
Einrih bit at the inside of his cheek. “That’s not much of a secret either, I’m afraid. You were – that is, you weren’t quiet, my lord.”
The words landed…and heat flared in Náli’s cheeks. It was his turn to fidget, then. “Ah. I see.”
Mattias snorted, and he poked him again, this time with an elbow. He tried and failed to recall exactly what sorts of noises he’d been making. Probably the sort he should be embarrassed about…but that was a shame he would have to endure because, whatever they’d been, he wanted Mattias to inspire more of them in the very near future.
He adjusted the blankets in his lap and sat up, determined to push forward, blush or no. “Very well. I’ll wear the dark gray, if you will. As for my mother, tell her…” He faltered. First instinct was to say tell her to go kick rocks, I’m not riding with anyone. But things were different; things were going to get even more different, before the night was through. If the spell worked, if he split the magic successfully, and broke the chain of early death and forced heir-begetting, he’d have to break the news to his mother. He might as well avoid any advance apoplectic fits before that.
“Tell her I’ll be down shortly,” he said, and both men blinked at him in shock. “I’d like to delay her inevitable tirade until after the ball tomorrow night, if I may,” he explained. “Or at least until the end of it. I don’t want her histrionics interfering with tonight.”
“Tonight?” Einrih asked, and sounded almost…eager? Perhaps. Or that was wishful thinking on Náli’s part.
“Yes. I don’t want to delay.” He snuck a sideways glance at Mattias to search for disapproval, or doubt, or some facial twitch that betrayed he was thinking better of his decision in the light of morning. But Mattias watched him with open approval. To Einrih, he said, “Tonight, I’ll attempt the spell. If it works, then the entire balance of power in the Fault Lands will be shifted.
“If it doesn’t, I suppose I’ll have to choose a woman to hump tomorrow night after the ball and see about that whole heir business.”
Einrih’s eyes widened.
Mattias sighed.
“Tell the others.” Declaration thus made, Náli flung off the covers and slipped down out of bed into his slippers, biting back a hiss when the landing sent a jolt up his legs, through his hips…into more sensitive areas. “Shit,” he muttered. Lifted his arms as Einrih rushed forward to offer the sleeves of his robe. As he secured the belt, he heard the mattress shift and creak as Mattias climbed out on the other side.
Náli turned, already smiling to himself, because Mattias had no robe of his own, and walked naked toward the washstand, his chiseled, bare form bathed in gray dawn light. He had a lovely array of scratches down his shoulder blades, angry red lines from Náli’s nails. Náli studied them and ghosted a hand over his own hip, where finger-shaped bruises were coming in blue and obvious, tender to the touch.
The door whispered open.
“Einrih,” Náli said.
“Yes, my lord?”
At the washstand, Mattias straightened and reached for a length of towel, light catching the water droplets on his face, sliding down his neck and chest like beads of crystal. Drying his face set the muscles in his back and ass to flexing in a delightful way; even his smallest movements spoke of his prowess as a warrior, spoke of his strength.
Náli said, “Mattias was telling me the most interesting stories last night.” He turned, then, so his smirk was directed at Einrih, standing caught-out at the threshold. “He had some complimentary things to say about you, and I said I might like to witness certain sparring formations to judge your prowess for myself. That’s within a lord’s purview, don’t you think?”
Einrih blanched…and then blushed. “I. That. Well–”
Náli waved him off. “Only a suggestion. You’re dismissed.”
“I – yes, my lord.” He shut the door solidly as he rushed out, and Náli laughed.
“Don’t torment the man,” Mattias admonished. He’d turned away from the basin, now, and was combing a dollop of Náli’s favorite oil back through his hair, preparing to braid it, which bunched his biceps and pectorals up in a delightful way.
Náli sobered. “Matti, if what we’re planning actually works, talking of one another’s cocks will be the least of our indignities. We’re talking of sharing magic. That’s…well. I’ve never done that before. But it’s going to require a certain intimacy.”
Mattias’s expression turned grim, which stung at first. But then Náli realized what it meant, since there could be no question now of Mattias liking intimacy between the two of them.
“Wait.” He felt another smile forming. “Are you jealous?”
