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“I just want you to try, lord. For yourself, for your kingdom… and for his.”
Boraleashe
He is the True Treasure of the Realms
Boraleashe stood impatiently in the main foyer with his court while he waited for Notalus and his heirs to show them the wonders of Tir an Fhomhair. The tour was Notalus’ suggestion, and yet he was late. Boraleashe tugged at the clasp on his robe, trying to breathe through the unbearable heat.
Does it have to be so damn hot everywhere?
“This is ludicrous, not to mention disrespectful. I would never make my guest wait alone while I took my time getting prepared,” Boraleashe grumbled to Adresin. “Notalus is probably at his husband’s feet, praising him.”
“We’re early. So, be patient, please. We need to be diplomatic if we’re to accomplish what we came for.” Adresin frowned, readjusting Boraleashe’s silver medallions on his robe. “Think of Amárach and the havoc to befall our land if you don’t get Theodor Cavalerie to touch your heart again.”
There’s no fuckin’ way he’s ever trusting me again.
Boraleashe wanted to thrash something, but knowing it’d be pointless, he gave his viceroy a stiff nod and kept his mouth closed. A few minutes later, Notalus and his consort were announced, descending the tall staircase hand in hand with their aides behind. Boraleashe was respectful, giving them both a slight bow, keeping his face impassive.
“Are you ready to see the beauty of autumn, brother?”
Notalus asked the question, but he didn’t seem all that interested in an answer. He was too busy gazing into his husband’s eyes, beaming like a nymph fairy in a garden.
“For all the fuckin’ sake of the gods.” Boraleashe turned toward Adresin, who was also trying but failing to avert his eyes at the public display of affection. “They look absurd.”
“That look is called love, my lord,” Adresin deadpanned. “Perhaps you should not balk at it.”
“They look like fools.” Boraleashe shook his head. “Notalus doesn’t need court jesters… he is the entertainment.”
Adresin hummed because Boraleashe was lying to him and to himself. With a sarcastic tone, his viceroy turned Boraleashe to face the stairs and pointed to the top. “And how does he look to you?”
Boraleashe’s tongue sat heavy in his mouth while he stared in fascination at Theodor standing at the top of the grand staircase before his massive court. He took his time descending the stairs, and Boraleashe couldn’t tear his gaze away.
All eyes were on the Treasure of the Realms, and rightfully so.
He has the beauty of a god.
Boraleashe needed to get his head out of his ass. He’d stayed away from love because he didn’t want to be a fool. Notalus wore his heart on his sleeve, and he’d been devastated more times than Boraleashe could count.
It was well-known that titans were strong and powerful, but all supreme beings had a weakness, and for titans, it was their hearts. If it was touched and loved, then their worlds would prosper, but if the titan or titaness refused to submit to their heart, they would suffer immense pain, and all that they adored would be taken.
Boraleashe didn’t want to gawk, but he couldn’t turn away no matter how hard he tried. Theodor was gorgeous from head to toe. His tunic and linen pants were a handsome shade of forest green and adorned with multicolored leaves. His robe was attention-grabbing, long, and hovering over the ground as if it was too magnificent to drag over the ground.
Theodor’s hair was just as striking as his eyes, a perfect blend of gold and bronze cascading down his back like a whiskey waterfall.
Boraleashe swallowed a lump of reactions that settled like coal in his gut. The sight of this majestic king leading a pyramid of aides, servants, and admirers sent an exhilarating chill through him he didn’t want.
“Ahh, there’s my son. The king has arrived!” Notalus pulled his attention away from his husband long enough to acknowledge Theodor and everyone else standing and waiting. Notalus motioned for the guards to open the palace doors. “Shall we?”
The crowd left out of the palace grounds, but Theodor and an aide beside him with two different-colored irises didn’t move. They stood in front of Boraleashe as though they were waiting on something.
“Lord Boraleashe, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” The peculiar-looking man bowed gracefully before meeting Boraleashe’s stare. “I am Mozraath Dakeran, the king’s man. My lord and I are honored to escort you to some of our more prominent villages in Fhomhair.”
“We are looking forward to it.” Adresin stepped forward and gave the same courteous bow Theodor’s man did. “I apologize for not addressing your position properly when we arrived, Lord Hand Mozraath. I am Adresin Samyar, Viceroy of Tir an Amárach, Lord Boraleashe’s second-in-command. It will be an honor to tour your lands.”
The aides and servants were the only ones talking while he and Theodor observed each other. Boraleashe liked the way Theodor was gazing at him with his head tilted to the side, his eyes roaming his body. Boraleashe zeroed in on those perfect lips, feeling something warm and pleasant knock against his chest.
