Page 45 of His King Enslaved

“You mustn’t write such passionate things,” Ardor said, his voice gone rough. “I can’t have those things. I can’t be those things. I have—I have one purpose. This.” He touched his belly.

It was on the tip of Sindar’s tongue. I love you so much. He ached to say it. To tell this incredible man, I love you no matter what, and you don’t have to do anything or be anything but Ardor. But this was surely selfish. Voicing such thoughts was merely self-validation. Ardor did not need to hear protestations of love. He did not need arguments. He needed understanding.

The fact was, Ardor didn’t want him. He didn’t want what Sindar offered. He didn’t believe he could have it. Whether that was true was unimportant. What Ardor needed at this exact moment was to be heard, and that was what really mattered.

“I understand,” Sindar said. “You’re right. The children are the most important thing. We should focus on our parental duties.”

The tension in Ardor’s shoulders eased.

The twisting in Sindar’s heart hurt, but seeing his Flower’s body relax helped. Ardor was carrying their baby. He had enough to deal with, and anything his consort could do to relieve his stress was surely useful. Even so, Sindar was a drowning man. Despite everything, he instinctively reached for one last lifeline.

“May I still write to you?” Sindar asked. “I’d like to practice my Pavarian. I’ll keep it professional, I promise.”

Ardor finally looked at him. “I should focus on the baby.”

The ground fell out from under Sindar, swallowing his soul. His heart seized in his chest. The swell of emotion that poured over him was a tsunami. Big feelings, larger than any man could bear, threatened to swallow him, consume him, blot out the sun.

And to reveal a glimmer of it was unfair. Ardor had made his choice.

Sindar smiled as best he could manage and said, “All right. If you ever need anything, I hope you’ll send for me.”

* * *

PATTY KNEW SOMETHING was amiss. When he arrived at Sindar’s office, he promptly went to the whiskey cabinet and helped himself to a double. “I understand you met His Eminence today.”

“Yes. Ardor and the baby are well.” Sindar stared absently at his own empty glass. “You were right. Being vocal about my infatuation was unfair to him. I’ve been a complete ass.”

Patel brought the bottle with him and filled Sindar’s glass. “Your brother made a point of proving he was unmoved by His Eminence’s beauty. Being spurned by a royal, even one he dislikes, cannot have been easy for Ardor. You turned it around, and I think that was in all our best interests. But now that we’ve established you can breed, it’s probably best to keep contact outside your contractual duties to a minimum.”

Breed. Goddess, Sindar hated that world. It was not breeding. They were not horses. He loved that man. He would die for him. “I promised Ardor I would protect our daughter,” Sindar said evenly. “And I will keep that promise.”

Patel lowered his glass. “Sindar.”

“Tell me where he is.”

“No good will come—”

“Tell me!” Sindar brought his fist down on the desk. “Tell me where he is! I’ve done everything you asked, and now I’m asking you for one thing in return! Just one thing!”

“He’s an insurance policy. You need him.”

An odd feeling came over Sindar as he gazed at his mentor. “That’s what you said to him, isn’t it? That’s how you convinced him to let me go. You told him I was insurance, too.”

“What would you do if you knew where he was? Would you stab him right there, in his bed?”

“I want to talk to him.”

“He’s in a coma.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t hear. I want to talk to him and tell him he was wrong about Ardor, and I have everything in hand, and if he ever threatens my children, I’ll exile him. I told Ardor I’d protect our baby, and I need to take concrete action, if only for myself. I have to stand up to him, damn it. I don’t care if he can’t hear.”

Patel considered him. “You don’t want to kill him.”

“No. He’s my brother, for goddess’s sake. If I kill my family, how will Ardor trust me to protect ours?”

Patel smiled. The warmth and pride in it were so unexpected, Sindar was momentarily thrown off. His mentor—his father, at least in spirit—was proud of him. It was almost too much. Hurriedly, he added, “Besides, if I kill him I can’t beat him senseless when he wakes up, and he’s got it coming.”

“Of course,” Patel said easily.