There was no way that Fyar could know about the life changing event that took place just hours ago in Killian’s room. There was no way.
There was just no way.
Glancing around the still packed hall, Killian quickly made sure there was no one paying any attention to them, standing at the head of the great room overlooking everyone.
Still early in the morning, servants were in the process of swapping out the empty bottles of liquor with lighter foods to sooth the stomach, fruits and breads and greens. There were many elves who hadn’t made it to their rooms the night before, settling to slump over where they were—on their settees or against the wall, some even on the floor—to spend the night there. It made it easier to wake up and immediately continue their party if they never left in the first place.
Killian’s eyebrows shot up his forehead at the sight of Hokda’s small frame passed out under a nearby table, snoring and drooling away.
Sloppy.
“Stop,” Killian said through gritted teeth when he couldn’ttake it any longer.
Fyar smirked, having won. “Should I say congratulations? Perhaps make a toast to your newfound relationship?”
“Relationship? That’s awfully presumptuous of you.”
“Not really” Fyar pressed two long fingers to the side of his own neck. “I have eyes.” He chuckled when Killian’s hand flew to the same spot on his own skin, a new heat on his cheeks. “Loran knows better, so it’s obviously someone new. And you wouldn’t give up your relationship of convenience with your lieutenant so easily, so it’s obviously someone special.”
Nervous, Killian clenched his teeth.
Fyar gave him a flat look. “You forget I know you, Killian. As well as you know me. Of course I know something's been up with you lately. I’m glad you’ve finally pulled your head out of your ass and figured it out. Maybe you’ll finally be able to focus on your work again.”
Killian made an offended sound. “I never slacked on my duties.”
“But you’ve been distracted,” hummed Fyar and Killian had no argument to that. “Listless. Weary. Boring—”
“Yes, yes,” Killian cut in. “I get it. Distracted.”
“Boring.” Fyar took a long sip from his goblet. “It started about the time your brother got here.”
There was a sudden ringing in Killian’s ears.
Forcing himself not to react, Killian turned his face away, plastering a wry smile onto his face. It took all of his strength to keep his muscles from locking up, to keep the rise and fall of his chest at the same even rhythm. “Yes, well, he unfortunately chose to show up during the most tumultuous time the palace has seen in the last hundred years.”
“Yes. Unfortunate.”
Killian felt pinned under the weight of Fyar’s eyes on the side of his face. He was impossibly, uncomfortably, flayed open, all his innards on display for Fyar to pick through one by one until he found exactly what he was looking for.
“Fine,” Fyar sighed dramatically. “Don’t tell me. It’s not like I care or anything.” Killian rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you keep your secrets—for now. But we’ll come back to this. Eventually. I look forward to the day you tell me.”
“Oh? You sound so sure.” Killian let out a laugh. He could breathe again.
“I am,” said Fyar, like there was no question what he said would come to pass. “Because we don’t keep secrets. Not us.”
Killian flinched. Because that had once been true, but he’d been keeping a lot of secrets lately.
There was a part of Killian—a big part—that wanted to tell Fyar everything, sit the king down and lay everything out on the table. Everything. His feelings for Kade and their newfound relationship and the journey there. He wanted to boast that he’d won Kade’s love, how his feelings were really and truly returned, as insane as it was.
Killian wanted to tell his friend.
Really, it would be best in every circumstance if Fyar knew. Their relationship was…unconventional. Frowned on. Despite not being blood brothers, Kade’s parents had taken Killian in and they had been raised together, side-by-side for their entire adolescence. Their coupling was highly questionable, and if it were to get out, it would ruin them socially. That could then become a stain on Fyar rule—the captain he trusted most, locked in a sordid affair.
A shameful thing. Yet, if Fyar knew—and didn’t shun them—he could…prepare? Help? In the case they were found out. At the very least, perhaps the king’s backing would ease the potential harassment.
Killian could handle the scrutiny, but he didn’t want it to touch Kade.
Wishful thinking.
