I glanced around his room, as if to encompass the entirety of Camelot Court.
“This place, even with its many, many flaws, is shedding light on the parts of myself I’ve struggled to face, and changing everything. Having someone—three someones—show me my pain could be beautiful…that has changed everything.”
He held my gaze, and I ran my fingers past his ears to take hold of his face.
“Let me do that for you, too. Let me in. Because your scars won’t turn me away from you.” My heart clenched as his eyes fell closed. “Everything that shaped you? It brought me here. Itsavedme. And the things that shaped me? They did the same by leading me here, so I can save you, too.”
Chapter Nine
After I finished my speech, Kingston drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s get in bed.”
Once we’d settled under the covers, we lay facing each other in the darkened room. Pale moonlight streaked across our joined hands, falling over our partially dressed bodies. Tonight didn’t feel like a night for pushing past physical barriers but connecting on a deeper level.
And like everything with Kingston, I suspected that what waited at the end of that would be well worth the time it took for us to get there. As he started speaking, finally giving me the truth I’d been hoping for, I was sure of it.
His truth changed everything.
“When I was a boy, the first time my father allowed me to have a friend over, he brought home the son of one of his business partners. He said he would be my greatest ally one day. My partner in crime.” He glanced up from the spot on the bed, where he’d been staring between us, and smiled sadly as he met my gaze. “Literally.”
I wanted to reply with the quote I normally gave Gia when she misused that word. But Kingston had said language mattered. Words had meaning.
My smile vanished as his meaning sank in.
“My father said the boy would follow me to the ends of the earth, and he’d always be by my side.” Kingston dropped his eyes again. “My right-hand man. Even though, to the outside world, he must appear to be no more or less important to me than anyone else.”
“Because the Knights don’t have ranks?”
“That was what I thought he meant, too. But he also said it to teach me a valuable lesson.”
When I scoffed, Kingston squeezed my hand. “Drake D’Arthur has taught me many valuable lessons. Mostly in who Ineverwant to be. As a leader, as a father, and as a man. And that one was no different.”
“What happened?”
“As soon as the boy became everything my father said he’d become, and as soon as I grew to trust and depend on him, my father gave him a choice between something cherished thatmy familyhad taken away—something he knew the boy coveted—and my friendship. Naturally, the boy chose door A.”
“Oh, god.” My heart ached for that little boy. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t carry the same weight anymore, but something like that had to leave a mark.
I wasn’t prepared to find out how true that was.
“My father said the boy could only have the item if he took the knife out of my father’s bag and dragged a line down my back. Nothing major, but…he wanted them to leave a mark. He told them when they did, they would get what he’d promised them. And when it was done, my father told me the boy hadn’t been strong enough to be the right hand of a D’Arthur, and that we’d simply try again.”
He cleared his throat, and I tightened my grip on his hand.
“Each time, the boy chose the item. They’d mark my skin, and then they’d leave. With their eyes on what they’d gotten, and barely a glance back at what they’d done to get it.”
My hand flew to cover my mouth, quieting my gasp.
“I never blamed them. I understood the point of the lesson, and they were small children being manipulated as much as I was. But even so, I…” His features tightened, face pained as the memory rose in his throat, and he swallowed deeply to get past it. “I waited each time, hoping one would say no.”
“Kingston…”
“And then, one day, one boy finally did. But, because of who my family is, my father had prepared for that. He offered the boy an even more valuable item. Something the boy had wanted much longer. And that time, the boy didn’t refuse. Only one boy refused more than once...Eventually, though, they all had a price.”
“How many…?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but couldn’t stop the question.
“Eleven sons.”
