by Auryn Hadley
As soon as she could, she excused herself. A moment later, Connall did the same, offering his arm to escort her from the dining hall. Tristan and Temotio fell in behind them, but none of the four spoke until they reached the door to her rooms. Once again, in polite society, Leyli was expected to change clothes.
Temotio fell into place at the door, but Tristan stepped inside. When Leyli turned to follow, Connall stopped her. He tilted his head toward her room, silently asking for an invitation. Taking a deep breath, she asked him to please step in.
He closed the door quickly and dropped the charade. "I honestly meant it about the wine testing, but I'd like to invite your entire guard."
Tristan grunted. "All of us?"
"Yes. Especially you. My father and brother prefer other drinks, which is why I suggested wine. I plan to also bring beer, to make an evening of it. I'm afraid there truly is little else to do in Moyloch besides get drunk."
"Thank you," Leyli told him. "I enjoy spending time with my men."
Once again, Tristan grunted, sounding annoyed with the entire idea. "I need to clean our weapons."
"So you're going to stay up here all evening?" Leyli demanded.
"Or visit Mama, yeah."
"Uh uh." She took a deep breath. "Tristan, your duties to me do not end when you are in a mood. You're coming, and you will enjoy yourself."
He surged toward her, glaring down into her face. "You really want me to come play with your little boy toy? My manners aren't that good, Highness."
"Then learn."
"I will not try to smile while you - " He clamped his mouth shut.
Connall let out a tense breath behind them. "While I smile and pretend to woo your woman? Is that it?"
"Insult her again, and I'll shove your balls down your throat, brat."
"I don't know how much more clear I can make this," Connall snapped back. "I don't want to fuck her. I just want the damned title."
"And how long before you want that title to be king?" Tristan asked.
Connall turned to Leyli. "Then make it a condition of the marriage. I'm pretty sure it already is. I don't want to rule, I just want a leash long enough so I can be happy." He looked between the two of them. "I'm not an idiot." His hand jerked out to point at Tristan, but his eyes were on Leyli. "I'm nearly as tall, my eyes are only slightly more green, and our hair is within the same shade. Like every other younger son, I made an offer thinking I had no chance. When I saw the Lion in the palace is when I decided to change my deal. I'm the only man in that room that has the right traits to explain away your children."
"And you think that is enough?" Tristan asked.
Connall took a long breath, stepping back slightly. "I bet everything I had on it, but I'm starting to think I was wrong. She also wants someone to help her rule. Someone to compliment her weaknesses. I may not be an impressive man, but I've spent my life studying everything I could - just so I could get away from Einri. Maybe, just maybe, that could be useful."
"And you think getting her guard drunk will prove that?" Tristan stepped toward Connall, one fist tensing at his side.
Leyli lifted a hand without looking at him. Her eyes were locked on Connall as her mind spun. He'd figured it out, but he still wasn't sure. She just had to decide if she was willing to take the last step. He wasn't a stupid man, but everything about him made her think he was honest.
Connall shook his head, well aware that Tristan could pummel him without breaking a sweat. "I was hoping to relax. The Princess is here. Not in Rochdale, not Bretonvale, and not Lanmont. That means I'm at the top of the list. I gambled and I'm winning. She's here, because she wants to see if I'll sit down and shut up when she tells me to."
"Will you?" Tristan asked, the threat obvious.
Connall smiled. "Oh yeah. I just want to know if I'm supposed to be some love smitten fool or a wise business partner." He pulled one hand down his face. "Look. I don't care who she's sleeping with, or if she just prefers to be alone. I know my damned place, Tristan."
"Enough!" Leyli snapped, forcing the men to look at her. She groaned in frustration, knowing this little chat had just gotten too far out of hand. Connall knew enough to ruin her. Her only hope was that he was being honest. "Connall, are you willing to change your personal crest?"
His brow wrinkled for a second, then his head jerked up to look at Tristan. A single, deep chuckle burst out before he nodded. "Yeah. I can do that. One single lion, I assume?"
"It would be convenient."
"Yeah." He nodded again. "Should I also adopt the Aravatti style?" He dropped his eyes to her hand.
Leyli pressed it against her brow, wishing her life could just be simple for another week. "I think that would cause too many rumors."
"I see. So we'll leave that for your children, huh?"
She searched his face but found only amusement. "That might be best."
"Then I'll claim that the change is due to rising above my birthright. I'll find some similar story in history to support it." He looked at Tristan. "I would prefer it if we could at least stand to be in the same room, since it sounds like I'm to be wed."
Tristan's response was barely more than a growl. "Mhm."
Connall just sighed and turned back to Leyli. "I'm sorry about your headache, Highness. I think it would be best if we cancel our plans for this afternoon. If your Secor decides that you're well enough to enjoy an evening of wine tasting, the offer is still there. If you're not, would you be opposed to me inviting your men without you?"
"Please, and thank you for understanding, Connall."
He ducked his head and backed toward the door. "My pleasure, Leyli. Just decide if I'm supposed to be smitten or stoic. If you change your mind, I assure you, at least one of your guards has enough on me to guarantee my silence."
"Which?"
He smiled and pulled open the door. "Figure it out." Before she could say another word, he was gone.
Chapter 35
Leyli spent the afternoon with Tristan. He apologized for losing his temper a few times, and she forgave him over and over, but they both knew it had to be done. At least Connall's excuse gave her a reason to take dinner in her room instead of suffering through another meal with his family. A large pie was sent up with the meal, and Leyli ate much more than she should.
Less than an hour later, Astrid let them know she was headed to Connall's rooms with the guards to sample the wine. She promised to mention Leyli's headache. Tristan's sister did a little too well navigating the waters of court politics. It made Leyli wonder what kind of trouble she got into back in Lenlochlien. At least Leyli didn't need to worry about Astrid getting into trouble in the palace.
Unfortunately, the headache ruse had become real for at least one of them. The tension was catching up with Tristan, and while he didn't want to admit it, she could tell. That's how he ended up face down on her bed with his shirt off. They didn't have a masseuse, but Leyli didn't care. She had no problem putting her hands on his strong, muscular back to knead away the aches and stress.
Her fingers worked at the knots behind his shoulders, making him groan. "Feeling any better?"
"Alone with you? Yeah." He turned his head and smiled at her.
Leyli bent and kissed his spine. "Good, because we need to have this talk."
"I know. I'm trying, Ley."
"You want me to find someone else?"
He sighed. "No. Marry the brat. At least I won't have to worry about you being alone with him."
"Dad looked. He tried to find a way to make you a candidate."
He rolled beneath her, catching her hand in his. "I know. I also know its impossible. I'm just going to be a grump for a bit."
"Don't you think the court will notice?"
He chuckled and pulled her against him. "Probably. Maybe have Gregori let it slip that I'm jealous and you refused me? Dunno."
She snuggled closer and traced a scar down his abdomen to the waist of his pants. "Or should we blame an old arena wound?"
Before her hand could slide beneath the fabric, he grabbed her wrist. "That works up until someone catches me with a fucking hard on."
"Happen often when I'm not around?"
"Nope. Problem is you're always around."
"And that's a problem?"
He rolled closer and kissed her. "Yeah, if you don't want me getting hard thinking about you naked."
She giggled, reaching for his pants to pull him closer, when a knock came at her door. Tristan rolled away quickly, all too aware that the lock was still open and Astrid could come in. Leyli groaned and got up, heading to answer it.
"Yeah?" she asked as she pulled it open.
Connall stepped into the opening, not even waiting to be invited. "I hope your headache is better."
"Uh." She closed the door behind him. "What the hell are you doing barging in here?"
He lifted a pitcher in one hand. "You missed the fun. Astrid's probably going to hate me tomorrow, but she has good taste in wine. Gregori has a hole in his foot or something, because I think he drank a cask on his own and could still walk a straight line. So I brought beer and can have any vintage you'd like brought up."
"Beer's fine."
Connall set the pitcher on her small table and turned toward her bed. That's when he saw Tristan leaning against the far wall, bare chested, glaring. He froze, looking at the map of scars on the Secor's body.
Tristan pushed away from the wall and turned for the maid's door. "I'll leave you two alone."
"Wait!" Connall called after him. "Tristan, please."
He stopped, but didn't turn. "Not a good idea, Connall."
"I came to talk to you, not her." He made a point of setting down the cups hard enough for the sound to carry. All three of them. "I just figured you wouldn't want me in your sister's room, either."
"Not really." Tristan sighed, but turned to look at the man. "What do you want from me?"
"Give me a chance." Connall lifted the pitcher and poured, filling the cups. "Behind closed doors. No court manners. Just two friends and the poor sod who wishes he was."
Leyli pulled out a chair. "Please, Tristan?"
His shoulders dropped and he sighed. "Yeah. Lemme get a shirt."
"Did I interrupt something?" Connall asked, taking the place across from Leyli.
"A massage. In the games we had professionals to work out our muscles, but we managed to pick up a few things. What are you trying to do, Connall?"
"Well." He lifted his cup and took a sip. "Get married. My big plan is to make sure that after I'm married, I can figure out how to live for a few more years, and I thought making friends with the Lion might help."
"I spent five months chained to him." She took a sip, watching his expression closely. "I hope you don't think that a beer is going to match that."
"No, but I'm also convinced that if I don't force this, he won't make an effort."
Tristan walked back in, pulling the shirt over his head. "So sure she's going to marry you?"
"Not at all, but I have a feeling that it's not her permission I need." Connall nudged a cup closer to Tristan. "I think I need to prove to her best friend that my intentions are truly harmless."
"Except for once a week."
"For perception's sake, yes. In reality? I was thinking I might challenge Leyli to a game of Go. Maybe try to find a way to limit who can be sold into the gladiatorial games." Connall leaned back, pulling his cup with him. "Tristan, you suck at this. The nicer I am to her, the more you sulk. Just like a man."
"In case you missed it, I'm not a woman."
"Exactly." Connall grinned. "Let's you and I pretend she's not here." He took a sip, refusing to look at Leyli. "How about I get to deal with the pompous pricks in fine clothing, and you fuck her brains out? You can't hide it. Not behind closed doors."
"Who are you fucking?" Tristan grabbed his cup and tossed a dagger in it's place. "Since you're so willing to promise not to touch your potential wife?"
"Right now? My hand. Maybe I'll find some servant that gets me going? Who knows."
Leyli watched the men, doing her best not to interrupt. She knew Connall was right. He and Tristan would need to settle this, but she'd never dared to hope that her husband would understand.
"And in ten years?" Tristan asked. "What happens when you realize how amazing she is?"
Connall shrugged. "In ten years, what happens when you decide the kitchen wenches are more fun? That argument doesn't hold water. Either of us could try to make a fool of the other. You claim you sired the heir to the throne, and it causes problems. I claim you did, and it causes different ones. How about we agree that the Queen of Norihame will be terrifying enough that neither of us will be that stupid?"
"You want a title that bad?" Tristan shook his head. "What am I missing?"
Connall waved toward the door. "What you've seen today is my family being polite. Polite, Tristan. I'm an embarrassment. I can barely cut my own meat. I spend my time learning laws and tactics. I'm enamored with history. I would rather read a book than pick up a sword." He lifted his lean arm and flexed. His shirt didn't strain, even though he wasn't scrawny. "Marrying Leyli gets me the one thing I've always dreamed of: access to the Royal Library. I can learn anything I want, and so long as I stay out of her way, she won't give a damn."
Tristan nodded, accepting that easily enough. "Ok. So how do you explain your wife and her bodyguard?"
"The same way you have been. You're a close friend. The two of you bonded in the games, just like men do in war. You're more like siblings. It would help if you treated your sister similarly."
"And my lack of lovers?" Tristan kicked his feet up on the table. "That doesn't make you suspect I'm spending too much time with your wife?"
Smiling, Connall looked him over. "That is harder to explain. We can try to say you prefer men - since you're big enough to guarantee that no one will try to beat you over it. That's not an easy thing for a man's pride to take."
"An injury in his last fight?" Leyli asked. "He's scarred enough."
Connall shook his head. "That's a hard thing for a man to admit, Leyli. It might work, but I wouldn't ask Tristan to claim he's a broken man."
Tristan chuckled. "Ok. Or?"
"I'm assuming that flirting is out, and casual lovers are even less likely to happen." Connall leaned forward. "Pretty sure neither of us wants to see her Highness in a fit of jealousy."
"It's not pretty," Tristan assured him. "She threatened to send the three year old son of the man who sold my debt into the games."
"To the sands," Leyli corrected. "I never said he'd fight."
Connall choked on the drink he'd just taken. "What?"
Leyli waved it away. "Bitch ran up a debt then convinced her new lover to sell it rather than simply telling her old lover that she was moving on. I threatened to take the resulting child away from her. Let her see how Estelle felt when her son was sent to the games."
"Damn." Connall pushed out a breath and shook his head. "And here I was scared of him. Well, the only other idea I have is more difficult. Leave enough hints that everyone is convinced that he's doing something he's not. A flower to one noble daughter, then vanish while she's out on a ride. Things like that. The more the women deny it, the more convinced the court will be that he's doing something."
"Just like the games," Tristan groaned. "Look right, smile at the right people, and act like you love it."
"Yeah." Leyli reached over and rubbed his arm. "It's the price of being kings. Our entire lives become lies."
He caught her hand in his. "Still worth it, Ley. I'll lie for you." Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the tiny gold lion. "Marry the bastard. He tries to ruin you and I'll make sure he dies slowly. He tries to hurt you, and I'll let you do it."
"You sure?"
He shook his head. "Not at all, but until someone figures out how to make a gladiator into a noble, it's the best Norihame has. Be the Wolf, pup." Then he smiled and turned to Connall. "And yo
u. Don't even think it. You try to seduce my girl and I'll break your small toe. Do it again and I'll move up until I get to your neck. Get me?"
"I assume that means this is purely a business arrangement?"
"Nah." Tristan huffed at the idea. "No one would buy that. Woo her logic but flatter the girl. Just enough for the world to believe it." He smiled. "Just enough that they stop wondering what she's doing with her Secor."
Connall nodded and offered his hand. "I can do that, sir. I also meant it when I said I'd like us to be friendly, if not friends."
"Take care of her and we'll be real good friends." Tristan took his hand, then paused, looking down. "Take care of the kids, and I'll take care of you. Deal?"
Connall paused, following Tristan's eyes. Side by side the differences were obvious. Pale white lines traced Tristan's skin. His fingers were rough from gripping a sword. The sun had burnished his skin a deep copper. Connall's were smooth, flawless, and pampered. Jewels adorned two fingers; they were subtle, but still there. The most obvious sign of work was the dark stain on his first two fingers from years of turning pages. A warrior and a scholar, they couldn't be more different.
Leyli reached over and put her hand over theirs. "And if either of you fuck this up, I'll make you regret it. Am I clear?"
"Perfectly," they both muttered quickly.
She giggled, grabbing her cup for one more drink. "Good, because I don't care how big your dicks are. I'm the one in charge. I'm the one they're going to blame if we screw this up, and all of Norihame will suffer for it."
Chapter 36
The next day, Leyli announced her plans to leave. Connall made a point of bringing flowers to her room while she was packing, a gesture they both found amusing after she'd taunted her suitors with the idea. He also gifted her with a ring at dinner, sliding it onto the third finger of her left hand. Tristan took all of it with his usual stone cold face, but when she got him alone, he wasn't upset.