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Later that night, Ryu was curled up on the sofa in his new apartment, the bevy of housekeepers sent away once they’d made up the bed and moved the bulk of his and Kentario’s belongings.
Ryu had been given the master bedroom, of course, and notionally, Kentario had been given the bedroom next door, close enough to protect the prince, should the need arise. Not that he would ever end up actually sleeping in there.
Ryu looked up as he heard the front door open, and Kentario came in, having spent the afternoon with Maro, putting together a plan to revise their security protocols and ensure the rest of the staff understood what were and were not acceptable standards.
“Hey, nice digs,” Kentario said, hanging up his jacket by the door. He hadn’t had a chance to see the apartment earlier in the day. “A lot more modern than your parents’ apartment.”
It was true. The Jade Apartment had been renovated a few years ago, and now it boasted an open-plan kitchen, with every modern appliance that royalty might require. The carpet was thick and cream in colour, the sofas plush and comfortable, rather than the stiff-backed variety his parents had favoured, and the walls bore paintings of forests and mountains, instead of a cluster of gold-framed photographs of various royals in formal poses.
“I like it,” Ryu said simply, looking around. “It’s got a low-key feel to it. Somewhere we can just chill out at the end of the day. Dinner’s in the oven.The staff brought it up about fifteen minutes ago.” That was one more change Ryu had made, no longer willing to bother with the routine formal dinner each night. If there were special guests at the palace, he’d make the effort, but on an ordinary night, he’d firmly decided that he deserved some time off.
Changing direction, Kentario went immediately to the kitchen. “Sweet,” Ryu heard him mutter. “Baked salmon. I’m starving. Oh, and Maro gave me something to help you celebrate your birthday,” he added. He took the plates out of the oven and set them on the table, then went back to his jacket, extracting a couple of bottles of cider from the pockets. “Your first official drink as a legal adult.”
“The kitchen sent up a lemon tart,” Ryu said, as he meandered over to the table. “The kitchen hand was all embarrassed about it. They weren’t sure if it was appropriate to be saying happy birthday, but they wanted to do something nice.”
Kentario had sat up a little straighter at the mention of the tart. “Well, if you don’t want it, I’m happy to get it out of the way for you…”
“Keep your hands off,” Ryu told him, with a playful glare. “That’s one of my favourite desserts.”
They ate in companionable silence, both of them too tired to have much to say, but once the meal was over, Ryu found himself still too wound up to go to bed.
“The funeral’s in two days,” he said, as they returned to the sofa, Ryu immediately curling up against Kentario’s side. “I still can’t get my head around that.”
“You need any help with anything?” Kentario offered immediately.
“Nah. The staff are taking care of most of it. We’ve hired event planners, the admin office is sending out notifications to all the nobles, communications is writing a eulogy for me to read out. I just have to show up and not be a quivering mess.” It was all well and good to say it like that. After all, he’d got through the speech this afternoon without doing anything stupid. But on the last word, his voice cracked, and suddenly, the events of the last two days caught up with him all at once.
“You’re going to be fine,” Kentario told him, his arm tightening a fraction around his shoulder. “I’ll be right there beside you.”
“Yeah. I know. I just…”
His next breath came on a shuddering sigh. He felt hot tears pricking at his eyes.
Without a word, Kentario slid around and wrapped both arms around him. It was like being held in a warm vice, one that smelled of cologne and breathed in deep, even strokes. “It’s okay,” he muttered into Ryu’s hair. “Let it out. I figure you’ve held it all together for just about long enough by now.”
The tears flowed easily, for the first time since Kentario had burst into his bedroom with the shattering news that his parents were dead. But instead of falling apart, Ryu felt Kentario’s arms holding him together, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was never letting this man go. No matter what the rest of the world thought of their union.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Hey, Kinto? You ready to go?” Ryu stuck his head into Kentario’s bedroom, feeling both anxious and eager to get this over with.
“I swear, I’m going to kill Emica,” Kentario grumbled. “She’s an adult now. She should have grown out of that stupid nickname.”
“I think it suits you,” Ryu said, tracing a finger down the tail of Kentario’s panther, the tattoo just peeking out the collar of his jacket. “My very own ‘little cat’.”
Kentario rolled his eyes, but deep down, Ryu knew he liked the name – so long as it was only spoken in private. Let that one slip in public and he’d have averyangry panther on his hands.
It was two days since Ryu’s coronation, the past week having passed in a blur of activity. He’d managed to keep it together through his parents’ funeral, and for once the media had shown a shred of decency. There had been copious praise for the king, eloquent approval of the queen’s efforts to improve social conditions for the people of Galandeen, and a few politely phrased remarks about how well the prince had handled the difficult day, though it had been clear he was feeling very emotional about it all. On Ryu’s part, he’d largely ignored the media, just grateful that he hadn’t turned into a bawling mess in the middle of a room full of nobles and journalists.
Perhaps ironically, his coronation a few days later had seemed the more daunting task. In theory, it was a far simpler role; walk down the aisle in the temple, stand still while the High Priestess placed a crown on his head, and then recite the traditional vow of devotion to the people of Galandeen. The rest of the ceremony had been taken up with prayers to the Goddess, a performance by the palace orchestra, and a banquet to celebrate the occasion. But as the weight of the gold crown settled on Ryu’s head, he’d felt a deep dread settle into his bones. So much of the future was unknown, and he’d seen first hand how the best laid plans could be turned on theirheads at a moment’s notice. He’d had to force himself to walk through the door into the banquet hall, dressed in his full regal raiment. He’d forced himself to smile as the packed room had applauded for a solid five minutes and forced himself not to dash from the room the instant the meal was over. A king, as he had long been taught, displayed poise and control in public. Emotion and even the faintest hint of distress were reserved for when he was behind closed doors.
He’d also had a phone call from Princess Jasmine. It was one of the few calls he’d been grateful to receive, amid the bevy of foreign diplomats calling to offer their condolences. By virtue of her unique position, Jasmine had understood his fears about his new role in a way few others could, and though there was little she could do to help, it had been a huge relief to have a sympathetic ear from someone who wouldn’t judge him for his failings.
But now that all the official business was over, there was one other thing he and Kentario needed to do. For the past week, they’d both managed to keep the newly-marked scent glands on their necks covered, suits and ties working in Ryu’s favour, while Kentario’s guard uniform had kept his under wraps.
But fairly soon, they’d both have to return to something more akin to their normal schedules. Ryu was not normally in the habit of wearing a suit when meeting with internal palace staff or contracted diplomats, and with the formalities of the week concluded, people were going to start asking questions.
