“You will not get over me!”
“I know!”
“Good!” The King blinked. His lips twitched.
“Do not laugh.” I pointed at him. “We're having an argument.”
“A ridiculous argument.” He let out a snort.
“Still an argument. You put yourself at risk by going in there.”
“Where?”
“Newfangled!”
“Why? I had my knights with me. No one was going to attack us.”
“Oh, Gods, grant me patience.” I rolled my eyes.
“I fail to see the problem. I'm the King. I go where I want.”
“Yes, but you went into a blood bar! And you made it very clear that you were there for me. Can't you see how that looked?”
“So what? I'm not ashamed that I take pleasure from your bite.”
Damn it all, I was blushing again. “That's not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“You are the King. Giving blood to a common Eljaffna in a bar is a weakness that people can exploit. Now they know what you crave and who you crave it from. And that, Your Majesty, is why they took me from my home in the middle of the night while I was trying to solve a case!”
He sat back. “I see.” A deep sigh, and then he said, “I'm sorry, Tek.”
“Tekhan! That is the name my parents gave me. Could you possibly struggle through the whole of it,Tor?”
The King snorted again. Then rolled it into a laugh.
“You're a madman.” I shook my head. “Absolutely mad. They tortured me, Tor'rien. Fucking tortured me because I refused to use my so-called influence to get you to grant their fucking petition!”
He stopped laughing. “That's truly all it was about?”
“Of course! What else? It's always at least one of three things—money, power, or sex. In this case, it was two out of the three.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Why didn't I what?”
“Agree to use your influence.”
“I don't have any influence over you! I tried to tell them that, but they didn't believe me. Because you came to find me in a blood bar.”Oh, yes, this would work. Blame him. Misdirection. Hopefully, he won't dig too deep. Dig! Shit! We're almost at the park.
I looked out the window while the King sank into guilt. Yeah, it was wrong, but it was to save my race. So, he could fucking deal with his guilt. He rather deserved it after all he'd put me through. Yes, that's it. It was justice. And I was nothing if not a lover of justice. Of course, now, I was his lover as well. And lovers shouldn't tear each other apart. Not even if it's justified.
“Forget it,” I said when we pulled up next to the park. “It's done. I just wanted to tell you why I called them traitors.”
Silence.
I looked over at him. “What?”
