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Boraleashe wasn’t the least bit interested in entertaining these people, regardless of the fact they were his court. He’d never been the kind of ruler who hosted dignitaries and threw lavish dinners. Which translated to making a spectacle of himself.
He felt ridiculous enough sitting there with dozens of sets of eyes directed his way. The gold snowflakes embroidered on the knee-length white tunic Adresin had chosen for him were over-the-top as well, but he’d complied. Staying isolated had been his best defense from nosy questions and unwanted advances or propositions.
Boraleashe leaned back and allowed a footman to place a small spoon of caviar and sliced cucumber in front of him, then served the guests next.
“You have caviar?” Theodor turned to him, his charming smile all full lips and straight white teeth.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice low. Boraleashe tried to keep out the negative memories of his cursed land. “After the shading of our sun, we lost the ability to farm livestock and grow certain vegetables, but there’s never been a shortage of fish in our bordering rivers. Which was a relief because it became our biggest export.”
“Gossips have raved that the best seafood is indeed in the north. If that is true, I hope it will be displayed here tonight,” Theodor proclaimed loud enough to break the silence and spark some conversations.
Boraleashe didn’t smile, but he nodded, his forehead lingering on Theodor’s broad shoulder before he pulled back. He liked how close their men had put their chairs. It helped settle his anxiety when Theodor reached beneath the linen tablecloth and rubbed his warm palm up and down his thigh.
Boraleashe stared mesmerized at Theodor chewing and swallowing the one-bite entree he placed on his tongue.
“It’s delicious. Eat,” his king ordered softly, lowering his gaze to Boraleashe’s lips.
With his eyes on Theodor, he placed the spoon in his mouth and withdrew it slow. The buttery richness of the caviar exploded in his mouth, but food was not what he wanted to feast on.
The footmen cleared their dishes, and another group came with the second course, a small bowl of broth the master butler proclaimed was a masterpiece of herbaceous delight. Boraleashe rolled his eyes, and Theodor knocked his boot against his.
“Be nice,” he said out the corner of his mouth while keeping a placating grin on his and nodding to their guests. “Try to smile.”
Boraleashe blinked, winging his brows down low. “Excuse me?”
“Never mind,” Theodor corrected. “I’ll never say that again.”
“That would be much appreciated.”
Mozraath snickered behind them, an amused grin tilting one side of his face, which fell after he glared at him.
“He is right to laugh. Because this whole charade is comical at best.” Boraleashe tossed his cloth napkin onto the table. “I should be down in the valley with my people, basking in their genuine praise and helping them to rebuild. Not dining on a seven-course meal in this posh hall with members of my court who haven’t bothered to converse with me in a hundred years.
“I know I kept myself isolated, but at least my people never stopped trying to reach me.” Boraleashe pushed his bowl away. “I remember they would leave food baskets and gifts at the Keep gates anytime I returned from my travels. Though they almost froze and starved to death… they never stopped believing in me.”
Theodor turned to face him, cupping his cheek. Boraleashe leaned further into the touch, greedily absorbing his lord’s understanding. Theodor touched their foreheads together despite their company gawking.
Boraleashe assumed they were surprised to see him showing any kind of affection or submission, but he didn’t care about these noblemen or their opinion of him. Not after his daughters had informed him of the countless times they’d had to march into some of the provinces and prevent the lords and their high society from starving the poor.
“How about this?” Theodor rumbled in his ear.
“Yes.” Boraleashe would agree to anything Theodor asked. The dark chuckle on the rim of his sensitive ear in response made Boraleashe’s dick go from half-hard to stone.
“After our ceremony tomorrow, then your daughters’ coronation on the next moon, how about we stay here in Amárach for some time instead of going right back to Fhomhair? Hmm? My counselors are more than capable of handling things for a while.” Theodor stroked his cheek with the back of his knuckles, sending an unbelievable warmth down his throat. “Together, we can host the kind of celebration you want, open to all of your people, not just the nobles. I want you to be happy, and I can see that helping the towns rebuild is important to you. So, we’ll stay awhile and help too.”
Boraleashe wanted to kiss him, but he knew that would be going too far for these pompous bastards and clergymen.
Damn, he needed some fucking privacy.
Theodor lifted Boraleashe’s hand and placed it against his stubbled cheek.
