WE MARCHED upon the capital within a week. Reunited with our infantry and all our supply trains, we reformed, polished our boots, and with Aleksey at the head of his army, we took the city. There was not one occasion of looting or raping. Aleksey had no qualms about hanging a man for such a crime, which was unusual for his time. My experience of war had been different, and I rather missed scalps hanging from my saddle and had thought that all such noncombatants would be seen as spoils of war. I did not mention this to Aleksey. Upon reflection, I preferred his way of conducting himself as victor. But then I was beginning to prefer Aleksey’s way in all things. I was in love.
WE CAMPED outside the city on the wide, flat plains that led to the coast. It was a time to heal, repair, and consolidate, and all those great things that any army, even a victorious one, must do. I very quickly reverted to my role as doctor, and I dug Jules out from his enforced sequestration in the infantry (much to his relief) to try once more to establish some kind of medical station for the men. Our plans to set up battlefield stations at different places within the front lines had completely been lost to the chaos of the war. I had not even been a doctor; neither had Jules—another plan lost amongst so many. However, just as every boy dreaming of war should take part in one before he decides whether it is a glorious thing or not, so should every doctor actually fight and be wounded. He would then appreciate how these things affect a man. I have often wondered if men had to give birth whether they would be more sympathetic to a woman in her birth pains.
I had no shortage of new wounds to experiment upon. I saw things that would make any man sicken and value his own health. I think it helped me ignore the wounds in my side and thigh, which were healing and now seemed as nothing compared to missing limbs, pierced organs, or damage inside the body that I could not see but which I knew would engender slow and agonizing death. These latter men, I helped along their way with an overuse of laudanum. I had complete medical authority, and if men so badly injured did not come out of my tent alive, no one was the wiser as to why or how they had died. I felt the drug did more to ease their passing than did the priests who flocked to our victorious soldiers in droves—now that the fighting had ceased.
HESSE-DAVIA HAD been formed many years before the current king’s reign by the amalgamation of two smaller principalities, Hesse and Davia. Unbeknownst to me, a similar plan had been proposed for Saxefalia, should the war go in Hesse-Davia’s favor. Saxefalia was far too large and wealthy to become merely sequestered land. It was to become a new principality in its own right. King Gregor intended to invest his heir, George, as Prince of Saxefalia.
The royal party arrived a few days after Aleksey had won his great victory. Apparently they had been following us the whole way to Saxefalia, taking a leisurely pace so they might come upon the entertainment (the battle) and watch its spectacle (the dying). It was far better than watching a tournament, after all. They had expected, of course, to come across an orderly battlefield with massed squares of infantry, watch a cavalry charge, planned for and executed with precision of timing to match the king’s need to see the best of the action. Fortunately, they missed the battle we fought. I think, had they been there, they would have been swept up in the chaotic charge and lost, mistaken for combatants. As it was, they trailed in some days after all the action, losing some of their royal impact. They seemed incredibly out of place in this world of soldiers, but Aleksey could hardly treat them so. He had to greet his father and the new Prince of Saxefalia with all due respect and honor and hand George his new territory. It was all feasting and ceremony and whatnot, and I took no part in any of it.
It made my head hurt even to hear of it, so I usually grunted and carried on cutting off legs when Jules tried to interest me in this gossip.
It was childish, I know, but I had fought the war (to some minds I had won their war for them), but I did not get the reward I wanted: Aleksey. I saw him all the time, but still, still, I did not see him as I wished. We were both as busy, if not busier, than we had been on the march or in the battles. The arrival of his damn family did nothing to aid my sense of growing frustration.
PROSPECT WAS a large city with a great deal of wealth from trade with their neighbors to the east, so I was not surprised when the royal court did not come to the camp and pitch a tent with us, but heard instead that they had requisitioned many wealthy houses and had moved into them. I was surprised, however, to discover that Aleksey had abandoned us to move into a villa as well. It was not like him, and he went down in my estimation. Of course, he was very low in that anyway at this time, for he had hardly spoken to me for days, and I was sulking. It is not pleasant to be a man in love. I should have remembered this from my experiences with James Harcourt, but to be fair, this was different. I wanted to see more of Aleksey, whereas James I had wanted to kill.
I was very short and abrupt with Aleksey, therefore, when he actually sought me out one day. To be fair, I had just taken off a man’s leg and was sure I had wasted my time, because he would not survive the night. I was tired and bloody, as well as sulking and in love. Aleksey lounged nonchalantly against his horse, eyeing me as I attempted to clean some of the blood from my hands in a bucket outside my tent.
“Hello.”
I nodded to him, flicking the bloody water a little too close, so he had to step back or have his immaculate uniform ruined. I was not immaculate.
“How are your wounds? Your face looks very well.”
It was. It had healed, and I had almost forgotten it had been so damaged. I’d had no one to attempt to kiss it, after all. I felt like pointing this out to him, but it was not my place to remind him of what we had once been. When I sulk I do it very thoroughly. Instead, I asked, “What do you want, Your Highness? I am very busy.” I put a great deal of stress on I because he appeared to have the time to bathe and wear a clean uniform.
“I wanted to show you my new medals.”
I straightened. “I am honored that you have come to this lowly camp of working soldiers to find me for such delight. Are they very shiny?”
He chuckled. “Very.”
I came over, wiping my hands. “Show me, then, and let me get back to work.”
“I cannot.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, go away, Aleksey.”
“I cannot show you them for they are not here. They are at our new house.” He laughed outright at my expression and came as close as he dared, given we were in the main thoroughfare and many men milled around. “I have taken a house. For us. Your face! You are fun to tease, Niko. Tell me again how much you hate me, go on, for it always amuses me.” He swung up onto his horse and passed me a piece of paper. “Here is the address. Finish here when you can. If my presence is not enough to tempt you to overcome your bad temper, then perhaps the fact that it has indoor tubs of hot water big enough to submerge a man—or two—will make you hasten your duties. Good day, Doctor.”
I watched him ride off, the little piece of paper held loosely in my fingers. The poor man with the amputated leg had died. I gave it little mind. I had a tub large enough to submerge two men to think about. I was warm at just the thought.
CHAPTER 22
MY BELIEF that Aleksey should stay and accommodate himself with his army only lasted until I discovered I was included in his new accommodation plans. I was more than happy for us both to see nothing more of tents or soldiers. My hypocrisy occasionally dismayed me, but not so much that I was bothered to change.
I did not, however, become such a reprobate as to drop my instruments there and then and follow him. I stayed on all day helping the men who needed me, and only then left Jules to his shift and consulted the piece of paper once more.
The villa was on a bluff overlooking the ocean. It was built in the grand European style. These people were a great deal wealthier than their neighbors in Hesse-Davia. Aleksey had won his country a very great victory indeed. It made me wonder why Saxefalia had gone to war at all, given their spoils, had they won, would have been so pal
try, but I suppose men lead their countries to war with very little justification sometimes. It was all about the glory.
I entered the courtyard and handed my reins to a man who assured me that Xavier would be taken care of as well as I. I had to suppress a smile at this and wished Xavier well in that endeavor. He had never, to my knowledge, expressed such preferences, but should he find a suitable young stallion, he was welcome to try.
I made my way into the house. It was well lit by candles, which I then noted led in a winding trail through the hallways. I followed like a moth to their flame, quite unable to stop myself, such was my desire.
He was submerged in a pit in the floor from which aromatic steam arose. I had never seen anything more welcome or more beautiful. His wet hair stuck up at odd angles, and he grinned with delight at my expression, but still he was only perfection in my eyes. “Take off your uniform, Nikolai. Let me watch.”
His voice held that level of command that made me realize that these last few days had had a profound effect upon Aleksey. He was twenty-three, a soldier, and had gone through the usual rituals that mark the passage from boyhood to manhood many years ago. But now he had led a victorious army in war. He had captured a kingdom. He was a conqueror.
None of this alarmed me in the slightest. I suspected that now I had someone who could share more than just his body. We met more as equals, and the anticipation was the greater for it.
I did as he requested. I stripped and let my filthy clothing fall away from me at last. I stood entirely naked for his inspection. We had been naked together before, but this was quite different. All before had been hurried and fumbled, pleasure snatched from times and from places we should not have. Now I believed time actually slowed down for us. I stood with all my height and muscle, my wounds and scars—and my manhood rose and sought him out. He held out his hand, and I descended into the water….
“Christ’s cock!” I jerked out again. “How pissing hot is this?”
He laughed and kept his hand out for me. “Curse again. I love to hear you do so. It is because you are cold, Niko, that is all. Come, give it a chance and descend more slowly. I cannot think why you would be so eager….”
I gave him a sour look but did as he asked. I had lived cold as ice for so many weeks now I had genuinely forgotten how warmth felt. It was… sublime; that was the only way I could describe it. I sank to my shoulders alongside him, feeling more than cold seep from my body and leave it for good. I was no longer angry and bitter at Aleksey.
We barely took time to smile before we were kissing, and our kisses had such urgency that we both knew what was to come. I found him, he found me, and we gasped as longed-for release took us both. It was such a long and drawn out spill for me that it took me some time to recover. He murmured that he would have to make me angry with him again, if such was to be his reward. This did nothing to lessen my desire. I do not know if it was the low, seductive timbre of his voice or the idea of my seed being his prize, but I released again to words alone. He was delighted that I shot once more, this time with less ferocity but just as much pleasure.
After that we resumed kissing until he pulled away and showed me that he had prepared (had prepared by a servant, of course; he was Aleksey still) some food and a superb local wine. We indulged, feeding each other, sloshing and stirring the water. He particularly liked it when I took wine and passed it to him from my mouth, his tongue lapping around, seeking it. When we were sated from the food and very relaxed from the wine—it was very encouraging to drink to excess when the wine was coming from Aleksey’s mouth—he began to inspect my wounds. I let him. He could put his hands wherever he wanted as far as I was concerned. He seemed a little troubled now, and I assumed it was on seeing the scars, but he denied this when asked. I debated allowing him to keep his worries to himself, for I did not want to ruin the atmosphere, but his sudden change of mood had slightly ruined it anyway. I asked him simply, running my fingers though his hair, kissing his neck, “What’s wrong?”
He held me off, staring into the corner of the room, not catching my eye. “I do not know what we are to do next.”
I frowned. I was a little distracted, having him warm, slippery, and naked alongside me in the tub. “We go back to Hesse-Davia?”
“I do not mean that.” He turned to me at last, stilling my kissing and my roving hands. “After this… the kissing. I am unsure….” Suddenly he blurted out, “I have been thinking and thinking about you and the things you make me want to do when I look at you, but what I do not understand is what you do then. Oh God, I am explaining this badly.” He suddenly sank right under the water, holding his breath, then rising with a shake and flick of his head. “No, that did not help.”
I laughed at him, my hands returning to their interesting games. “Just tell me, Aleksey. You said that to me once, remember?”
He nodded. For some reason I did not think my reminder of this incident had helped. I discovered why when he said hesitantly, “I get that when I enter you, it will be pleasurable for me, for I have thought of little else since I first met you, but how will this be good for you? Given… what you told me….”
He looked down, that flush I had come to know so well high upon his face. I laughed, then wished I had not. But it was the surprise. I had no idea he had thought he would—I quickly disabused him. “Aleksey, you do not have to worry about this. You will not be the one doing the entering. I will.”
He turned his head very slowly, his gaze steely. “That, obviously, is not going to happen.”
“What are you talking about?” I had stopped petting him now. I felt the first stirring of real alarm. This had not even occurred to me—that he would assume he would take the manly role in our joining.
He was still trying to stare me down, and when he saw my confusion, he added, “I am a royal prince, Nikolai, and your commanding officer. I am not going to be… whatever you might call it.”
“Fucked?”
He clenched his jaw. He did not like my crudity when applied to him, I noticed. He took a swallow of wine and commented haughtily, “We are only here at all because of me.”
“What does that mean? Are you God now?”
He huffed at my deliberate obtuseness. “The spying mission? The kiss? I engineered the whole thing so I could have you alone and finally discover what all those furious looks at me could mean. We are here because I had the courage to take that first step!”
It was too true to refute, so I refuted it roundly. “Kissed me and then led me to believe it was done in jest. That was as much help as a cock on a nun. And the looks were not furious. They were censorious, because you are an arse.”
We were at something of an impasse. I leaned against the tub, letting my head fall back. He sighed. “This is going as well as all the other liaisons I have organized for us.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
“So you would say. Look, I am older than you and have—”
“Tell me once more, Nikolai, how much of the world you have seen and all the things you have done. I know I am young, but that does not alter the essential truth of what I say. I am your superior.”
I laughed, and he hit me. I wasn’t having that, so I held his arms, and that led to other things, for we were aroused from the anger. I kissed him hard and rough, took his member in my hand once more, and promised much with it that I did not allow him to complete. I whispered in his ear, “You would enjoy it. I promise, Aleksey; you would relish it.” I could see he was wavering, and I pressed my advantage. I pressed something else. His eyes widened. “See? Imagine if it were this there instead.” And I pushed my hard prick against his thigh to focus his thoughts.
He groaned but shifted away from me slightly. “I do not understand why if I would enjoy it, you would not.”
I had no answer for this except that I had not enjoyed it, although I was not stupid. I could see that my experiences of such activity had not been in ideal circumstances. He suddenl
y swiveled and straddled my lap. His eyes widened, and he murmured wryly, “That was close. It might have solved our dilemma for us.”
I laughed and kissed him. Did I not already have everything I could possibly want right here and now? “Do not think more on this. We have time enough to decide all things.”
We spent a very enjoyable half hour more in the tub before it cooled too much to enjoy further. I had never kissed for half an hour without respite before. I had not realized time could pass so quickly. We were lost to each other and to the feel of our bodies without the need to take it beyond fingers grazing, tongues exploring, and the intense pleasure of flesh warm against flesh.
When we emerged from the tub, I asked Aleksey where I was to sleep, and he took my hand and led me to a large bedchamber with one huge bed hung with curtains. He looked at me and pouted a little. “I had thought that we would be more intimate by this stage—that you would be content to share a bed with me. I’m sorry. Perhaps you would—” I caught him around the waist, heaved him into the air, and, ignoring his furious objection to being so manhandled, dumped him on the bed, then straddled him.
“You are very masterful, sir.”
I groaned at his coquettish demeanor and tapped him disapprovingly on the nose. “That kind of language, sir, will get you into trouble. Be wary, or I will solve our problem for us by turning you over and showing you how masterful I can be.”
A Royal Affair Page 21