He frowned. Why were they talking about archery?
“Yes,” he said, confused.
“Yeah?” Tor pressed. “You remember how awkward it was? How often the bowstring hit your arm? How you missed at first? Fell short of the target?”
“Yes,” Pel repeated. He was really good at it now, but like everyone else, he’d needed to start—
Pel rolled his eyes as he understood what Tor was telling him, but Tor just grinned.
And actually, as foolish as it was, it did make Pel feel better. Pel was an extremely accomplished archer, and he knew that Tor knew that. Despite the fact that there was no correlation between the two skills, the parallel was soothing. He had to start at the beginning.
Tor was actually quite good at that—which helped balance out the times when he got it completely, epically wrong. Because Tor wasn’t perfect, and Pel had maybe exaggerated everything too much in his head. They were both trying. Sometimes, they got it wrong,but they could apologize and recover if that happened. And sometimes, they got it really right.
Tor handed Pel a nightshirt and politely turned away so that Pel could undress more comfortably. Pel had wondered if the man was going to show off a little, see if he could entice Pel into anything, but he was being very restrained. Part of Pel almost wanted to be seduced to get it over with, but the rest of him was grateful.
Tor was an accomplished flirt and clearly capable of taking basically anyone to bed. Maybe this was only an extension of that skill, doing what made Pel comfortable, but it felt like more than that. It mattered that Tor was willing to be slow for him.
It felt like a long time since someone had gone to so much effort.
It was still a little nerve-wracking, pulling on the nightshirt, shucking the rest of his clothes, and crawling into bed.
Tor must have pulled his magic back, because the lights went out suddenly, and Pel was left with nothing but his thoughts.
It was a comfortable bed; his father might have been annoyed about the need for the royal suite, but he didn’t appear to have stinted.
Of course, he wouldn’t want anyone to think that Tond couldn’t provide comfort.
As nice as the bed was, though, Pel was absolutely not relaxed. No, he was preternaturally aware that he was in bed with someone else, not for sex but just to sleep becausehe’d asked for that.
Just at the moment, he couldn’t imagine sleeping ever again.
He could hear someone else breathing, and there was the rustle of fabric, and the bed jostled…
How did anyone anywhere sleep when they were in bed with someone else?
“Are you panicking over there?” Tor asked.
“No,” Pel said too fast. He blew out a breath and admitted, “Maybe a little.”
Tor laughed softly, but before Pel could decide if he was going to be offended, one of the crystal lights had been relit, and he’d been gathered up and pulled closer so that he and Tor were pressed against one another, Pel’s back tucked up against Tor’s front.
“Let’s try this,” Tor suggested.
“What if I kick you?” Pel worried.
“I’ll kick you back,” Tor promised promptly.
Pel couldn’t help but laugh, and he finally found himself beginning to relax. He squirmed around a little, both of them shifting until they were settled comfortably.
“All right?” Tor asked.
Pel hummed an agreement.
Tor had an arm wrapped around him and was stroking his fingers through his hair. It was unexpectedly soothing.
“I’m sorry I made the party so terrible,” Pel muttered.
“That was definitely not you. Besides, we made it work, didn’t we?”
