I tuck myself in behind him, mindful of his wound, pressing my face to his good shoulder. I feel him stiffen as soon as he feels me behind him, and I almost regret touching him. But after a moment, he relaxes again.
The king adjusts to pull me into their odd embrace, resting his hand against my cheek, holding me against Asher. For the longest moment, we simply rest there in the warmth of the water, feeling each other breathe.
But then Ky shifts, moving slightly. He leans in to kiss me gently on the lips, drawing a wet finger along my chin. “Princess,” he says. Then, as before, he runs a finger under Asher’s jaw, too, and I feel the shiver go through my friend’s body. This time, however, he leans down to press the lightest kiss to Asher’s temple. “Hunter.” He nods toward the edge. “As usual, you’re both a chaotic mess. Come. Get out of the water. I know what we need.”
WE LIE INthe pillows, and the king has a servant bring small bowls of fruits and nuts, along with a bottle of wine. The fire makes the air warm enough that my shift dries quickly, and we lie on the pillows and mats from the benches. Ky was the first to stretch out on one, and he says, “Tell me what you were like when you were young.”
At first, we’re quiet, because it’s unclear which one of us he was speaking to. But then I realize it’sboth, because Asher says, “We drovethe palace staff crazy. We were always somewhere we weren’t supposed to be.”
And then he’s telling a story about our childhood, a time we snuck into the kitchens to steal pastries that were so hot they left blisters on my fingers for days. It leads to other memories, other stories, until we talk about the time we were teenagers in the hayloft above the stables, how the night watchman almost caught us.
Some of the stories turn darker, the months of waiting when I thought I’d never see Asher again. The way I rejoiced when he finally appeared in my chambers—and how afraid I was when he told me I had to keep his presence a secret. We talk about Dane and his cruelty, which makes me think of Ky and his sister, the way he must care for her so much, while fearing the risk she brings to his kingdom.
He tells us stories from the battlefield, the way he met Sev when he was young, how the origin of their friendship is wrapped up in memories of the loss of his father. We learn a lot—likelytoomuch—about the way he’s formed his regiments, the way he runs his army, how seriously he takes their training and drilling and organization. It’s clear that he and his captain are very close, that they bear no secrets and their trust runs deep. Asher has been my best friend for my whole life, but I’ve never hadthatkind of friendship with another woman.
It makes me think of Charlotte, who’s not quite a friend—but might be. I remember the way her cheeks turned pink every time she looked at the captain.
“Is Sev married?” I say.
Ky snorts. “Sev? No. His longest relationship is with hishorse.I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with the same woman for more than a month.” He pauses. “Why?”
I wonder how the prim and proper Charlotte will takethisnews. “Just curious.”
As we talk, as the wine flows, our words grow a bit looser, our thoughts a bit freer. I’m lying beside Asher on some of the cushions, and as the night has gone on, I’ve shifted to lieagainsthim, our hands loosely intertwined. At some point, Ky moved to fetch more food, and when he returned, he sat against the foot of the bench, so he’s nowperpendicular to us, our heads by his thigh. At first, Ky would touch me lightly as we spoke, his finger drifting along my hairline, or maybe along my cheek. But now, lying like this, he strokes my hair, my shoulder, my collarbone. Always gentle, always simple, but it’s becoming intoxicating. I’ve felt a pulsing warmth in my belly, and it’s been building for a while. My breasts feel heavy, my nipples sensitive to the dried fabric of the shift.
But all he does is continue the chaste path. Hair. Face. Arm. Collarbone. Shoulder.
When Asher shifts closer and his face falls against my shoulder, Ky incorporates him, too. Running his fingers lightly through his hair, tracing one of the lines on his cheek. I wait for Asher to go tense, but he doesn’t. He’s very still, his breathing quiet. When the king’s finger drifts over his mouth, and then mine, I feel Asher’s cock twitch against my thigh, and I flush.
Do you fancy the king?
I don’t want to.
His body does. And it’s clear the king fancies us both.Ifancy them both.
But I think of what just happened in the pool, and I wonder if any of us should be fancying anyone at all.
This is too complicated to think about. We’ve gone too long without speaking. “Tell us about your men,” I say.
“Which ones?”
“What happened to Nikko?” says Asher.
I look over, because the question is interesting, and in a way I don’t understand. His eyes find mine, and I recognize an awareness there. A perception that I lack. Like the way he saw the king’s brokenness—or the way the king saw his.
“Nik was captured by the Draegs,” Ky says. “Held for weeks. Most of his regiment was slaughtered. They always keep a few for torture. They burn them as a lure for me.”
I remember him saying that Draegonis forces would set a fire to lure him out, but this is more brutal than I expected. The knowledge cools some of the heat in my body. My heart pounds.
“How did he get free?” says Asher, and his voice is calm, as if he’s unaffected.
Ky’s hand drifts over my face again, then strokes a path up Asher’s cheek. “We rode in and got him.”
He’s so loyal to his soldiers. No wonder they’re so loyal tohim.
I have to clear my throat, because I don’t want to talk about tortured soldiers. “What about Garrett and Callum? Are they a couple?”
Ky snorts. “If you ask them, they’ll say no. You might have noticed that Callum is not the type to confine himself to one partner.” He pauses, and there’s a weight in the hesitation. “But they’re very...very close. Sometimes among soldiers there’s a connection that forms. A bond that keeps pulling them back together, regardless of anyone else.”
