Gerard adjusted his eye patch. He walked back to his tent, but as he did, he kept glancing around, looking for Elias.
Why had he left? Why had he not spoken to Gerard before he had? He’d thought … well, he’d thought that after such a public display, Elias would wait around for him.
But perhaps that performance had just been for the crowds?
Gerard grimaced. He’d known it had been for the benefit of the onlookers. But Gerard had thought some of that display had been for Gerard too.
Guess I was wrong.
Luther and Onyx walked to Luther’s tent, disappearing inside. Lord Morton and Prince Ash held hands as they entered Lord Morton’s tent.
Meanwhile Gerard walked alone.
The guards on duty outside Gerard’s tent chatted softly as he approached. One of them chuckled. Then they saw him. Their faces smoothed, and they stood ramrod straight.
Gerard nodded to them as he entered. He collapsed intoa wooden chair. He reached for the carafe of wine on a small side table.
He froze.
Two goblets sat on the table beside him. One for him. One for a guest. But Gerard had not drunk a drop of wine before his battles. Nor had he hosted any guests in his tent.
But one goblet clearly had wine in it, and it had been half drunk.
His gaze skittered around. He spotted bare feet behind the wooden dressing screen.
He lunged for his dagger in the scabbard that lay propped against the chair. The feet moved beneath the screen. Gerard unsheathed his dagger and jumped to his feet.
The person came out from behind the screen. And smiled.
“Elias!”
“As you see.” Elias’s gaze darted towards the dagger. He raised a thin white brow.
Collapsing back into the chair, Gerard replaced the dagger and put the scabbard back.
“Did I startle you, Dragon Warrior?” Elias asked, voice soft and lyrical.
He still wore the same robes as before. But he’d removed the gold belt that cinched it and held the robes closed. That meant the robe hung open slightly, revealing his lithe chest.
He’d removed his necklace too. Gerard’s gaze settled on the pale neck and collarbone.
“What are you doing here?” Gerard asked, voice husky.
Elias tilted his head. “In Voltaria, in days gone by, when we had tournaments between the greatest lightning sorcerers, the winner would be granted a prize.”
Elias walked until he stood in front of Gerard, so close Gerard could reach out and touch him. Elias slid a hand down the inside of his white-and-purple robes, tugging them slightly, revealing more of that glorious skin.
Gerard’s throat dried. His cock began to fill beneath the robe he wore. He cleared his throat. “What prize?”
“It was common for a prince or princess to offer the champion their favours for an afternoon, an evening, or even a whole night if the champion was particularly impressive.”
“A prince or princess would do that?” Draconia had similar customs. But it would never be a prince or princess who granted such favours! That would be considered beyond scandalous.
Elias shrugged. The movement caused the robe to fall off one shoulder. Gerard’s gaze followed the movement as more of Elias was revealed.
“Well, we Voltarian royalty can be a bit slutty when presented with those who demonstrate immense power and strength,” Elias said.
Surprised laughter burst from Gerard’s lips.
