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Val, who as far as I knew had never learned of my...encounterswith certain other inhabitants of the castle, just shot me an exasperated glance.
“I’ve delayed you all long enough,” I said quickly. “Shall we resume our talks?”
Astrid eyed me cautiously before nodding. Ren was harder to convince, but a few well-placed glares in his direction persuaded him to drop the matter until we were at least alone, and he surprised us all by graciously pulling out the queen’s chair for her.
“Nathanael, Renato,” she began, stroking out the folds of her dress with slow, deliberate movements evidently designed to keep her hands busy. “I regret any...difficulty I caused yesterday. Your brother helped me appreciate that I had underestimated what you mean to each other.”
I looked at Valeri, who gave a faint, dismissive shrug as if to say it was nothing.Nothing, to have convinced the fucking queen of Mazekhstam to recognise my illegal relationship with a foreign royal as above that of her own political needs.
“I will assent to everything else we have settled these last two days,” Astrid continued, “including Algejón and the complete cessation of hostilities between us once you retake your throne, Aratorre. But...”
She faltered.
“I can’t offer marriage,” Ren said firmly, and she bobbed her head in acknowledgement, clearly not expecting his answer to have changed. I shifted uncomfortably on my chair, the ache I felt across my ass making it ten times worse.
“Then I can’t give you my army.” Astrid brought a lock of blonde hair to her mouth and chewed on it before speaking again, her brows furrowed. “Please understand. I will not risk the lives of thousands of my people to conquer Quareh, only to hand it back to a foreigner. I won’t ask that of them.”
I did understand, and I loved that she cared about such things. But it also left us with nothing.
Yet Ren cocked his head, looking shrewdly across at her as he picked up on something I hadn’t. “And what would the offer offriendshipbetween us buy me?”
Astrid considered him for a long moment, her blue eyes eventually settling on me. “A secret.”
“What type of secret?”
“The type that may be able to unravel others,” was all she said.
“Cryptic. I like it.” Ren grinned and held his hand out to her. “I believe we have a deal.”
-
“I don’t know why we have to be out here freezing our asses off,” Ren grumbled the following day, “when Panarina could have just had him brought to us.”
“The word ‘secret’ doesn’t mean much to you, does it?” I said conversationally, pretending to enjoy the brisk air when really I was just as eager as him to be out of the cold.
“Not unless I can lick it,” he replied, and proceeded to lickmeinstead, swiping a hot trail of saliva up my cheek that quickly cooled against my skin.
“Just knock on the damn door, Ren.”
The prince raised his hand to the door of the cabin we’d trekked four hours from Stavroyarsk to reach...and then yanked it open without knocking. A heavy cloud of smoke surged out as he did, making my eyes water.
“Inhabitants of this creepy, lonely little hut,” he called loudly, pushing his way inside, “you’re graced with our royal presence. Bows and curtsies are acceptable, hot beverages preferred, and a carriage ride back down that Dios-damned mountain would be the greatest gift of all. Why did you have to go live somewhere so inconveniently remote?”
That last was squarely directed at the older man who had clambered to his feet upon Ren’s entrance. He had a pinched face, grey eyes squinting in disgust at the snow melting from the prince’s boots onto his floor, and a shock of pale hair that was more than just aged: it was a bright, brilliant white that outshone anything else in the dingy hut.
“Royal?” he said slowly, peering at my lover. The white hair seemed to shine where it curled around his ears. “A bold claim for one hunted as an imposter and traitor.”
Ren faltered and I stepped neatly in front of him, sheltering him from the stranger. It seemed we’d certainly found who we were looking for.
“Nathanael Velichkov,” I said by way of introduction.
He harrumphed in response. “I know.”
“I know you know,” I said. “But considering you’re meant to be extinct, shouldn’t you be better served pretending you don’t?”
The man sighed, dropping back down to the dirt floor and folding his legs beneath him. He stared into the flickering flames of the small fire he was warming himself by, a kettle and teacup set untouched to one side. While there was a dedicated firepit and chimney space above to funnel the smoke outside, I still found myself coughing as the air rethickened around us.
“I do not care to hide what I am,” the man said morosely. “It is Mazekhstam’s kings and queens who would keep my existence a secret.”
