“And?” Nikolay asked. “Sixteen is considered to be the age of sexual maturity among Larchs.”
My jaw not only relaxed, it also fell open.
Yes, I had been angry with Kon for saying those things. I hadn't seen anything wrong with my relationship with Niko. Not until then. When he had pointed out how wrong it was, I had glimpsed the truth of it. Niko had been my protector, and he had taken advantage of that. But, as one often does when faced with a harsh truth, I ran from it. I denied it. Raged at the person who had revealed it.
I hadn't been ready to face that truth and, frankly, at the age of sixteen, I had felt like a grown man. I hadn't felt taken advantage of back then, so it was hard for me to feel so now. But seeing Niko's complete lack of guilt, his utter inability to even entertain the idea that he might have done something wrong, startled me over the edge. I knew my lover well. Knew all his tells. And Niko hadn't even twitched at the accusation. He saw absolutely nothing wrong with a grown man, a man over a century old, taking a sixteen-year-old boy's virginity after raising that boy like a son.
Sixteen. Niko was right; it was the age when a Larch was considered mature. The age when he or she could enter into sexual relations with another person without legal or social repercussions. Nikolay had waited for me to reach that age and then pounced. Which meant he'd been planning it since before I'd matured.
Oh, dear God of Water, give me strength. The strength to stay seated and not plunge my steak knife into the King's throat.
“You seriously don't see anything wrong with what you did?” Konstantin was just as shocked as I was. Even more so. “How old were you when you took him as your consort?”
“I was one hundred twenty-five years old,” Niko said. “And Misha was a very mature sixteen. He understood what I wanted from him, and he wanted it too. I didn't force him into my bed.”
“He was sixteen and indebted to you. You were his guardian, his father figure, and his king. No matter how mature he was, he wasn't mature enough to understand what being your consort would mean, and you took advantage of that. You took advantage of him.”
“I am a king.” Niko sat forward and started cutting his meat, as if bored with the conversation. “You could say the same about every lover I take. They are my people and therefore are mine to do with as I please. If I were to worry about taking advantage of that fact, I would never have a lover.”
“There is a difference between inviting an adult to your bed and a child,” Kon growled.
“He was not a child!” Niko slammed his fist down, then pointed the knife he was holding at Konstantin. “I see now why Misha was so upset. You don't understand what we have, Garin. You can't possibly comprehend the depth of our bond. Yes, I saved his life, and yes, I raised him, but it wasn't as my son. I raised him because I felt responsible for his loss. I failed him. I failed his entire village. The least I could do was look after the one child who survived.”
The breath caught in my throat. Tears rose to my eyes. I'd never seen Niko admit failure, much less guilt. To hear him confess to failing my family was like watching him shapeshift into another man.
With a shaking hand, Niko lowered the knife. “So I cared for Misha. I saw to it that he was fed and clothed and taught all the things a nobleman should learn. I even made sure that he was classically trained to sing. I gave him everything he needed to become the man he is, and as I watched him become that man, I fell in love with him. I saw him bloom into a divine creature with a singing voice that could make the Gods weep. I saw his generous heart and his quiet wisdom, never bragging, never asking too much of anyone. Who could look upon that and not crave it? Who could see my Misha and not desire every inch of him?”
“No one,” Konstantin said evenly. Then he looked at me and repeated, “No one could.”
A silence full of jagged knives and longing lips descended, and I wasn't sure if I'd get cut or kissed.
Thank the Gods, neither happened.
“So, we understand each other,” Niko said at last.
“I think we do,” Konstantin said. “We have made a bargain, and I intend to hold you to it, Your Majesty. I will find your murderer and hand him over to you, and you will give me that divine creature you treasure in return.”
“I hear a threat in your words, Garin.”
“Good, that's what I intended.”
Nikolay laughed. It was harsh but not scathing, more of an impressed tone. He raised his glass to Konstantin. “You certainly have the balls to own Misha. We'll see if you have the wit to win him from me.”
Chapter Twenty
Nikolay, of course, insisted that I stay with him that night. After dessert, he took great pleasure in taking my hand, kissing it, and leading me out of the dining room as Konstantin glared at him. Then he took even more pleasure from me.
By the time morning arrived, I was so exhausted from the mental shocks, emotional carnival ride, and Niko's ravenous sexual appetite that mere walking became a Herculean feat. I slumped over breakfast, even the coffee I'd chosen instead of tea failing me, and when I finally dragged myself out of my chair and limped toward the door, Niko chuckled into his cup with a very self-satisfied air.
“My poor Misha,” Niko drawled just as I made it to the doorway. “That's the price you pay for having such a delectable ass.”
“My delectable ass needs a break from your delectable cock, Your Majesty,” I muttered.
Nikolay laughed uproariously.
I stumbled away, ninety-nine percent sure that this was precisely the result he'd wanted.
The King's words, both those that he'd said to Konstantin and the tender ones he'd spoken privately to me later in bed (yes, he'd heaped more of that adoring bullshit on me), stuck with me, taunting me as I headed toward Kon's quarters. I was confused, tired, and sick to death of cock—something I thought would never happen. Niko had always been a voracious lover, but he'd been twice as merciless after dinner with Konstantin. I actually begged for a reprieve at one point.
