Which explained their sexual relationship quite well. Except for the times they’d lain in each other’s arms simply for comfort. Fun, full of comradery, but never love, except for love as a friend. “Then you’ve no objection to standing with me.”
“Put that way, I’d be honored.” Rufe locked gazes with Draylon, dropping all playfulness from his voice. “You know full well I’ll do whatever you need of me.”
Draylon’s heart warmed. “Yes, I do.”
“When does the big event take place?”
“In three days.”
“Oh, dear.”
“What do you mean?”
“Three days isn’t nearly enough time to get roaringly drunk and swear like sailors about your twice-cursed father’s machinations.” Rufe lifted the wine glass once more. “But we can sure try.”
“Oh, I have another favor.”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t wear those clothes. They reek.”
Chapter Eight
“Commander,there’ssomeonehereto see you.” The barely restrained mirth on Rufe’s face didn’t bode well.
Draylon glanced up from a ledger he’d yet to make sense of. At least the overbearing scent of cologne didn’t beat Rufe into the room today. “Who?”
“Prince… I mean, King Yarif. Should I punish the guards who watch him with too much appreciation in their eyes?” Rufe cocked his head in a thoughtful pose. “I’d have to start with myself. I mean, if he was a redhead…”
Draylon’s heart hammered even as he scowled at his oldest friend. Until he’d proven himself otherwise, Yarif was the enemy. “Send him in. And have a servant bring tea.”
“As you wish, my esteemed commander.” Rufe ushered Yarif inside the door to the second-floor office Draylon had commandeered.
Nerves made Draylon clench his fingers in his lap, out of sight of Yarif. He needed this man’s cooperation, and the emperor expected to hear of an agreement. Glancing up, Draylon nearly drowned in a pair of deep blue eyes. A suddenly dry mouth made talking difficult. “Your Majesty. Please be seated. To what do I owe this honor?”
Yarif showed nothing on his face of what he might be thinking. He sank into the padded chair opposite Draylon more gracefully than anyone had the right. “I’ll get straight to the point, shall I?”
“By all means.” Draylon forced himself to appear relaxed while worry twisted his insides. If Yarif said no, the consequences for them both might prove dire.
Yarif showed no timidity, back straight, head high, hands resting on the chair arms betraying no trembling. “I’m to abdicate the throne, renounce my family’s ancient right to rule Renvalle and surrender my freedom to marry you. It seems to me, with all I’m giving up, I have a right to make a few demands.”
This could prove interesting. “What do you have in mind?” Did Yarif have lovers he wished to keep? Draylon had never considered the possibility until now.
“I know I’m being kept alive in the hopes those loyal to my father will be appeased and not revolt. I’m also aware I knew more about the running of this kingdom at age ten than you can ever hope to in your lifetime.”
Yarif deeply underestimated Draylon’s learning abilities but made a good point. Why not take advantage of someone else’s experience? Tedious day-to-day operations, placating supplicants, and managing state affairs didn’t appeal to someone taught to run military campaigns involving men of war, not men who played games with words. “Go on.”
“I know my worth. To get all I have to offer, you’ll have to make… concessions.”
Father would likely dismiss all demands on principle to put Yarif in his place. Draylon was not his father. “What kind of concessions?”
“First, the children stay here with me. Their mother is practically a stranger, and the rumor is no winter could rival her coldness. I’d have them raised with care and affection.”
The emperor mentioned taking them to court to ensure Yarif’s cooperation, but that might work just as well here. “I’m not promising anything, but I will take your suggestions to the emperor.”
“They’re not suggestions. They’re demands.” Yarif crossed his arms over his chest. He’d dressed to impress today in a soft white tunic, heavily embroidered as per local customs, his hair falling loose around his shoulders. No doubt he knew full well how to gain an advantage.
Even his scowl was beautiful.
