Chapter Two
“I’ve been informed you wanted a word with me.”
Penli looked up at the familiar voice, smiling at the amusement in it. “Yes, Your Highness, if you do not mind.”
Kallaar rolled his eyes. “You do not have to be so formal. You call Shanna by her name, why not me?”
“Because your home is even more obsessed with formalities than mine, Highness.” Penli looked back down at his sleeve, scowling at the minute tear in it. Damn it, this was only the second time he’d worn this shirt. He did not lack for funds, but neither did he have quite the fortune he’d possessed back home. He could not afford to replace his clothes as often as he once had, and dash it all, he liked this shirt.
“I swear you cry harder over your clothes than you would over a dead body.”
“Depends on the body,” Penli said. “Also depends on the clothes. This shirt is Damarrian silk, and brand new; it should not have a tear. It wasn’t there an hour ago.”
“Blame Tishasanti,” Kallaar said, one side of his mouth turning up, eyes sparkling.
Penli snickered. “I think I shall. Perhaps I’ll charge one to his account. He won’t know until too late, if he notices at all. What a marvelous plan, Highness.”
“I’m full of them, as long as one doesn’t mind the bending and discarding of a few rules. What was it you wanted to see me about?”
Laughter faded, Penli sighed. “A far more serious matter. I should not be involved at all, but I cannot seem to talk myself out of doing it. I’ve had three days to do so, and failed miserably.”
Kallaar’s eyebrows practically vanished into his hairline. “I sense this has to do with the way you’ve been sniping with Tishasanti more than usual.”
Penli’s nose wrinkled. “I’d rather wear sackcloth the rest of my life than look at that moldy crust of bread ever again, but we all have our burdens to bear.” He sighed and finally stopped fussing with his ruined sleeve. “This is about Tishasanti’s marriage. Specifically, the man he is marrying.”
“Lord Teia. He’s sweet. Far too sweet for a bastard like Tishasanti.”
Kallaar’s eyebrows went back up. “I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with Lord Teia.”
“I think anyone with a beating heart would be concerned,” Penli said. “I do not know him well. I barely know him at all, to be honest. But I do know Tishasanti better than anyone would ever want to, and I cannot in good conscience stand by and do nothing while someone as commendable as Lord Teia is forced to marry that vile bastard spawn of a worm and rat.”
Kallaar laughed and laughed. Penli was considering ruining the shine on his boots when he finally stopped. “I see. So you want a way to stop the marriage?”
“I realize it’s probably impossible, but—”
“Stopping the marriage, yes,” Kallaar interrupted, the last of his levity burning away beneath an intensity he rarely showed when Shanna wasn’t around or the topic of conversation. “At this stage it simply isn’t possible, barring very specific circumstances that generally involve death.”
Penli grimaced. “I prefer to leave my killing days behind me.”
“I agree it’s a little extreme, even for Tishasanti,” Kallaar replied. “There is another way, although death would be less dramatic.”
“Now I’m terrified.”
Kallaar grinned. “Two days from now is the Ceremony of Declaration. It’s generally just a dull party where mostly we listen to officials and the families drone on, because laws have to be obeyed even if they’re boring and largely pointless. The law states that one month before the wedding is the last chance everyone has to back out or otherwise halt the proceedings. The parents declare they support the marriage, the couple declares they want the marriage, so on and so forth, to prove the marriage is desired and believed in from all sides. Toward the end, the temple priest who will be performing the wedding ceremony asks if there are any challengers to the marriage.”
“Challengers. That sounds promising.” Hopefully this challenge involved breaking a certain little vermin’s nose. Or ribs. Or even just an ankle. Penli wasn’t picky.
Kallaar made a face. “Only two types of people are allowed to challenge a marriage: family and other suitors. You are not family, so you will have to challenge as a suitor, meaning one of the first things you will have to do is prove you are the equal of Lord Tishasanti so far as benefiting Lord Teia and his family with the marriage.”
“I see.” That might be difficult. Even impossible. If he dared set foot in Remnien before Shanna returned to claim her throne, he would be arrested at best, murdered where he stood at worst—very worst, since travel clothes were by and large ugly since there was no point in wearing good, pretty clothes that would be destroyed long before there was anyone around to be impressed by his impeccable taste.
“You’re the best friend of Queen-in-Waiting Shanna, extremely wealth—”
“Oh, I think ‘extremely’ is overgenerous these days,” Penli replied.
“You still have a title, even if you cannot do much with it right now.”
Penli shrugged. “Earl of Graymark I might be, but it doesn’t do me much good when there’s a warrant for my arrest and I cannot access the funds that estate provides.” The only money he had came from the few businesses he owned or invested in that operated outside of Remnien, but even combined they did not compare to the wealth he’d been forced to leave behind. “I do not think I am a viable rival.” He pressed his thumbnail against his teeth, not quite gnawing on it but he may yet get fretful enough to do so. Even the lacquer wouldn’t stop him. Well, not until too late, anyway. It looked beautiful on his nails but tasted absolutely vile.
Kallaar’s mouth curved in one of those slow, evil grins that always preceded somebody storming through the castle in want of his head on a platter. “Maybe, but maybe not, because here is the amusing part: my parents are not thrilled about this marriage. Tishasanti plays the part of affluent noble, but he’s just this side of destitute and the marriage will refill his coffers. In exchange, he’s handing over additional power, prestige, and connections. This marriage will combine one extremely powerful house and one modestly influential but ridiculously wealthy house into a sum far greater than the parts. The result is a great deal of international economic power that almost nobody wants in Tishasanti’s hands. But my parents cannot simply say ‘we forbid this marriage because he’s an asshole and makes us nervous.’ By all appearances it’s an excellent match, and my parents forbidding it out of hand would cause more problems than it solved. But if the marriage was challenged, well, they have to abide by the law, even if the tradition has not been practiced in at least seventy-five years.”
“Surely Lord Teia’s family would disapprove.”
“They can disapprove all they like, but they cannot ignore the law, and the contracts already signed include the challenge clause, they always do. It’s considered highly suspicious to leave it out, even if challenges are never called anymore. If they do refuse the challenge, then the whole affair is considered suspect and the marriage is called off anyway.”
That would by far be the preferable option, since forcing Teia to marry him was no better than forcing him to marry Tishasanti. But one problem at a time. Once Tishasanti was no longer a risk, then Penli would deal with himself. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What do I have to do? What does this challenge entail?”
Kallaar’s mischief returned full measure. “I’ll send you a book that lays out the whole ceremony, and the part where you stand and issue a challenge. It will have the proper language as well. As to the challenge itself, there are three parts: stability, fortitude, devotion. Stability is the ‘are you equal to the person you’re challenging’, which we’ve covered. Fortitude consists of five tests to prove you are fit and capable, physically able to live up to the promises you are making by issuing the challenge. Generally they’re physical tests, like duels and such, but they can also be questions, performances—almost anything. There’s a long list of approved tests that an impartial party, generally the king, decides upon. You must win four out of five. If you fail, the challenge ends. If you succeed, the last challenge is to prove your devotion.”
“How am I expected to prove devotion?” To a man—men, really, because anyone who married Teia was also marrying Sendaar so far as Penli was concerned—he did not really know. One night and one morning, no matter how wonderful, was not enough for him to truly know them, or they him. For all he knew, they’d be furious at his interference.
But he could not stop thinking about them. How sweet they were, how much sweeter together. How distraught they’d looked every time they so much as thought about being separated. He might not be madly in love, but he’d be damned if he let two people who were in love be destroyed by a bastard who loved no one but himself.
Kallaar shrugged. “There is no single defined way. The gestures of devotion are unique to the challenge—to the person being fought for. You must decide how to show Lord Teia and the whole court that you are devoted to him and sincere in your cause.”
Penli scrubbed at his face. “Dear me, that is quite the test. I admire it even as I detest it. Something so subjective is almost impossible to win. How is such a thing even decided?”
“My parents are one vote, Lord Teia is another, and the judges—selected by the queen, since the king chooses the challenges—are five votes. Best of seven votes wins. You must win all three parts to win the challenge. If you lose a single one, you lose the challenge, and the marriage continues as though it never occurred. If you are caught cheating, you automatically lose the challenge and the marriage continues. If Tishasanti is caught cheating, the marriage contract is terminated. There are further penalties for both sides, but that’s the most important part.”
“I see,” Penli said with a sigh. “Well, so be it.”
Kallaar’s face filled with surprise—and then pure, unadulterated delight. “Truly? You’re going to issue a Challenge of Suitor?” He slapped Penli’s arms, clapped his shoulders, and hugged him tightly. “You’re a prince at heart, if not in fact.”
“I would do it simply for the pleasure of Tishasanti’s expression, do not think me anything more than petty and childish,” Penli said with a crooked smile, because the look on that loathsome toad’s face when Penli challenged would be a pleasure.
But he couldn’t deny that foremost in his thoughts was the image of Sendaar and Teia pressed close against his sides, holding hands across his torso as though afraid they’d be torn apart forever if they dared let go. The way they had trusted him, if only for a little while, with their pain and fear. He could not, would not, betray the trust by ignoring the pain.
Kallaar laughed softly. “Hmm. There’s a look I’ve seen before.”
Penli quirked a brow.
Instead of replying, Kallaar just grinned more, all mischief and excitement. “I need to go tell my parents; they’ll want to know it’s coming so they can be prepared. They hate to be left out of such surprises, and I promise you won’t be the only one wishing for a way to forever capture that look on Tishasanti’s face.”
“It’s good to know I’ll have royal support for my foolish actions,” Penli said. “I had best go unpack all my armor and such; I get the feeling I’ll be needing it quite soon. I don’t suppose archery will be one of the challenges?” He hoped he didn’t sound as wistful as he felt. That would be horribly maudlin of him. But he missed shooting—competing. There was nothing quite like the pull, the release, the satisfaction of seeing his arrow fly and land precisely where he’d aimed. The tension in the bow, gauging the shot, the breathless moment of release…
Kallaar snickered. “I think I know how you look in bed now. As to the challenges, I couldn’t say, but I believe they know you’re fairly decent with a bow.” He winked, hugged Penli again, and spun away.
“Where is Ahmla, by the way? I’ve never seen the two of you apart.”
“He’s keeping Shanna distracted,” Kallaar said, pausing at the door to look back. “My impression was you wanted a private conversation.”
“I appreciate the consideration, Highness.”
“Kallaar, please,” Kallaar said with a sigh. “We are co-conspirators now, surely that permits informality?”
Penli’s mouth quirked. “I suppose you make a good point. Very well, Kallaar, thank you for plotting with me. Now return to your lovely wife, lemon drop, before she finds us out.”
“She will anyway. You can tell she’ll be a good mother because she’s already mastered the art of sniffing out trouble.” Kallaar winked, waved, and then was gone.
Leaving Penli alone in the library with a heap of heavy thoughts he vehemently disapproved of. Hadn’t he done enough hard thinking the past several years, trying to both stay out of His Majesty’s web and keep Shanna as safe as possible? His arm ached with the memories of the night King Mercen had broken it—strictly speaking, a couple of his guards, but they were merely the dogs following the master’s orders.
Mercy of the gods, what was he getting himself into? He was entirely too pretty, and far too adrift with his life—and there was the small matter of a warrant for his arrest—to be fighting for the right to marry somebody. Honestly, it was the stuff of storybooks, not reality, which was all contracts and dreary negotiation and stiff conversation over breakfast for the rest of one’s life.
But that wasn’t true. Even if every marriage he’d ever seen back home was like that, Shanna and her husband—and their paramour—were proving to be quite the exception. Even Kallaar’s parents clearly loved one another. It was almost enough to make a man completely reconsider his opinion on the matter.
Well, his opinion hardly mattered anymore. He’d agreed to the foolish endeavor, so there was nothing for it but to go forward. He would save his pretty little pair from their dire fate, enjoy seeing the dire fate seethe with fury…and the rest would simply have to sorted out later.
In the meantime, he had plenty enough in the present to sort out, like making certain his armor still fit properly and getting all his blades sharpened. Unpacking his bows and arrows. Did he have suitable clothing for such a thing? What did one wear when issuing a challenge? Drat it, why hadn’t he asked Kallaar that? Maybe it would be in the books.
Finally leaving the library, Penli headed for his bedchamber—only to be distracted by familiar voices.
He paused at the open area that looked out over a sprawling garden of rock, sand, and water. Rather, to look at the four figures inhabiting the garden: Tishasanti, Teia, Sendaar, and a man standing just behind and to the right of Tishasanti. The stranger was a handsome enough fellow. He looked as though he’d been roughhewn from the dark brown stone that filled so much of the desert, tall and broad, dressed casually save for a sword at his hip and bracers, his clothes scarlet with honey accents.
“I do not need a new bloodgiver,” Teia said, voice firm but trembling ever so faintly.
Tishasanti sneered in that rage-inducing way of his. He flicked a dismissive look at Sendaar, who stood firm, but emanated the same misery as Teia. “Him? Please. We all know he was never meant to be a bloodgiver. He’s a book beetle.”
“He’s my bloodgiver and has been for years.”
“No, this is a bloodgiver,” Tishasanti said, gesturing to the man on his right. “He doesn’t look like his sword weighs more than him and like a stiff breeze could knock him over.”
The man in question did not seem pleased with the words, but he remained still and silent.
“This is a high honor, Teia—”
“Lord Teia to you,” Teia snapped. “We may be engaged, but I’ve granted you no liberties. And I’m aware you’ll give me no say once we marry, but I do have a say now and I say that Sendaar is my bloodgiver and no matter how fine a man Master Omar might be, he is not the man for me!”
Tishasanti’s skin flushed dark. “You ungrateful ass!” He grabbed Teia by the arm.
Sendaar reached for his sword.
Omar reached for Tishasanti.
Penli shoved a potted plant off the balcony and clapped his hands over his mouth as it shattered across the tiles and sent all four men scattering with cries and curses. “Mercy alive. I am such a clumsy fool.” He leaned over the railing, waggling his fingers as his braids spilled long and heavy over his shoulders. “I am so, so sorry, my darlings. Thank the gods nobody was hurt. You are all well, yes?”
“What are you doing, Penlington?” Tishasanti snarled.
“We’re fine,” Teia called up with a smile. “Are you all right, my lord?”
“Perfectly fine, my little melon.” Penli wiggled his fingers again. “I was paying more attention to what was in my head than what was around me, tripped, and down it went. I can’t believe I was so clumsy. Thank goodness no one suffered because of me. One moment, sugared plums, and I’ll be down to apologize properly.”
He spun away and walked back the way he’d come until he’d found the stairwell he’d been looking for. By the time he reached the garden, Tishasanti was practically boiling over. He stormed over to Penli, grabbed the front of his shirt, and shoved him into the wall. “What are you playing at, Penlington?”
“Blossom, I’ve no idea what you’re going on about. Do let me go, this shirt is made of Damarrian silk—do you know how easily it wrinkles?” When would people stop ruining his clothes?
Tishasanti slammed him against the wall again. “I’m not in the mood for your absurdities or your lies, you pathetic little snowflake.”
“Oh, now, I am not the one with a nose that shatters like glass, am I?” Penli snickered—then caught the fist coming at him, slammed his knee into Tishasanti’s groin, and knocked him to the ground. “And here all I wanted to do was apologize.” He smoothed down the front of his shirt, doing what he could for the wrinkles. “Dash it, Tishasanti, I was going to wear this shirt to dinner. Now I shall have to change my whole outfit.”
He didn’t linger to figure out the garbled, guttural words Tishasanti snarled at him as he climbed to his feet, one hand still cupped delicately over his battered groin. Instead, Penli strode off across the garden, looking at Teia just long enough to wink without giving away anything to Tishasanti or Omar.
Once back inside the palace, he ducked down a servant’s hallway, smothering his chuckles in the heavy folds of his jacket as he heard Tishasanti bellow his name, footsteps storming past his hiding spot. When the noise died down and remained that way for several minutes, he finally slipped back to the main hallways and took a meandering route to his bedroom. Throwing open the door, he reached up to start removing the pin that held his collar shut—and stopped short to see his unexpected guests.
Teia pushed away from the table he’d been leaning against, glancing at Sendaar for reassurance before crossing slowly over to Penli. “We wanted to express our gratitude, my lord, for the way you ended what would have been an ugly altercation. I am sorry it’s turned Tishasanti’s wrath on you, though.”
“Do not worry about me. His wrath is always on me, waiting patiently for a reason to show its full splendor, pet. Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“If he had tried, he would have lost a hand,” Sendaar said coldly. “Book beetle I may be, I still know how to use a sword and do my duty. At least then we would have had grounds for cancelling the marriage.” His and Teia’s grimaces were perfect matches, so adorably frustrated and grumpy, that Penli wanted to kiss their worries away and give them far better reasons to look adorable.
He finished removing the broach at his collar and set it in a silver tray on another table for one of his servants to collect later, along with all the other jewelry he began to remove. “I’m glad you’re both unhurt. I had every faith you could handle the matter, Sendaar, but I felt it was better not to put you in such a position.”
“Probably,” Sendaar muttered.
“Speaking of your betrothed, I’m not certain you should be caught in the rooms of his worst enemy without a chaperone,” Penli said.
Teia stepped close, finished removing Penli’s rings, then curled his fingers into the folds of Penli’s jackets. “If I had a chaperone, I wouldn’t be able to express my gratitude the way I want.” Penli didn’t get to ask what that way was, and then the question was moot—and then forgotten, as he happily relearned the feel and flavor of Teia’s mouth. He soaked up the heat of the eager little body pressed against his as Teia wrapped around him and deepened the kiss. He hadn’t realized just how badly he’d missed this until he had it back.
And oh, wasn’t he the worst sort, to be so gleefully accepting the ardent gratitude of a taken man.
On the other hand, this was a man—men—he was going to be fighting ruthlessly for in a couple of days. It wasn’t as though they gave a damn about Tishasanti, or Tishasanti about them. If promises of fidelity had been made, Teia and Sendaar would not have sought him out a couple of nights ago.
Penli tangled one hand in those delightful curls, pulled Teia’s head back, and feasted on the long, beautiful line of his throat. He dragged his tongue back up the trail of sucking marks he’d left and nibbled at Teia’s ear before asking, “So what sort of gratitude were you hoping to express, pet?”
“What—” Teia moaned. “Whatever you want. Really just w-wanted to see you again.”
“Good answer.” Penli licked Teia’s lips and kissed him again, not letting him go until Teia was begging with every movement and noise he made.
Eventually tearing away from Teia’s perfect mouth, Penli pushed him back slightly and said, “Get naked while I go tend our neglected companion.”
Teia eagerly obeyed as Penli crooked two fingers at Sendaar, who’d already discarded his weapons on the chest at the foot of Penli’s bed. As Sendaar reached him, Penli grabbed hold of the sash around his waist and reeled him in. Sendaar met him halfway, mouth hot and eager, matching every movement, soft pleased noises spilling between them as Penli fed at his mouth, sucked on those full lips, and nibbled at his jaw before diving into another long, wet kiss.
Breaking away took more effort than he liked admitting, but he did at last manage it. “Get undressed, my lovely boy.” Penli stepped away to do so himself, then went to lock the door before going to the sofa in the far corner of the sitting room, throwing a soft blanket down before taking a seat. Across the room, Teia and Sendaar waited impatiently, eyes fastened on him like looking away would cost them something.
“I’ve missed your mouths on me, pretty pets,” Penli said. “Come make me feel better.”
Teia grinned, and Sendaar gave a small but genuine smile as they joined him, Sendaar settling between his legs, Teia sitting next to him and immediately drawing him into more kisses. Sendaar kissed his knees, his thighs, shifting back and forth in a slow, torturous crawl, nipping at the soft skin of his inner thighs before spreading his legs a bit wider to tongue and suck at his soft sack.
Teia sucked on his throat, fingers brushing his nipples, pinching and twisting when Penli made approving noises. “I’m surprised you don’t have them pierced.”
“Darling, I’d have a terrible time thinking about anything else,” Penli replied and nipped at his lips when Teia snickered. Sinking his hand into those beautiful curls, Penli kissed him until Teia whimpered, until he trembled and rubbed against Penli’s side.
Sendaar, meanwhile, had finally dropped his mouth over Penli’s cock. He was making quick work of proving it was always the quiet ones who were the most devastating. Penli curled his free hand around the back of Sendaar’s head, feeling the rough scrape of hair just growing in as he urged Sendaar to take him deeper.
He complied easily, and Penli’s head fell against the back of the sofa as he moaned, hips moving without permission, pushing him deeper still, fucking Sendaar’s mouth, using it relentlessly. He lifted his head enough to look down and groaned loudly at the sight of Sendaar sucking him off. He dragged Teia into another kiss, tongue plunging deep, fucking that delectable, pliant mouth as eagerly as his cock was thrusting into Sendaar’s hot, wet mouth.
Teia rubbed harder against him, panting and pleading. Penli tore away as his climax rushed through him, sinking deeply into Sendaar’s mouth one last time before spilling down his throat.
Gently withdrawing his cock a moment later, he said, “Now suck Teia’s cock.”
Sendaar didn’t even bother to wipe the come and spittle from his mouth and chin as he dragged Teia into a more suitable position and easily swallowed his cock. Teia moaned his name, hips working erratically as he fucked Sendaar’s mouth.
He nearly shouted as he came and had barely finished spending when he pulled his cock from Sendaar’s well-used mouth and sank to the floor to kiss him. When he pulled away, Penli slid down to join them and took a few kisses of his own, until their flavors were so mingled it was hard to tell where each began and ended. Dragging slowly off Teia’s mouth, he turned to Sendaar. “I believe someone is still wanting.”
“Please,” Sendaar said with a whimper.
Penli ran a finger down the side of his face. “I never leave a lover waiting too long.” He winked, stole a quick kiss, then spread Sendaar on the ground and proceeded to give as good as he got. It only took a few minutes for Sendaar to come, between Penli’s sucking and Teia’s caresses, and he tried to cling awkwardly to both of them as he screamed his release.
“Well that is definitely a better way to spend an afternoon than my original plan,” Penli said, leaning against the couch, the blanket he’d first grabbed spilling down to partially cover one of his legs and most of Teia’s lap.
“I hope we didn’t interrupt anything, or cause you trouble,” Sendaar said.
Penli flapped a hand. “Not at all, crumpet. The only person who’d be mad at me for this is already mad at me for nearly dropping a flower pot on his head.”
“Thank you again,” Teia said.
“No thanks necessary, I promise.”
“I almost wish the pot had landed on his head,” Sendaar said.
Penli almost told them what he was planning, but bit the words back at the last moment. It was better for all of them if they didn’t know he was going to challenge.
And he was stubbornly, foolishly set on it enough he didn’t want to hear them reject the idea until he absolutely must.
Though what he was going to do if he actually won the damned challenge, he hadn’t the slightest. Thankfully, he didn’t have to figure it out quite yet, and he had two lovely distractions in the meantime.
Kissing each of them, Penli then rose and said, “Gather up our clothes and hide in the bedroom. I’ll call for food, and I think tonight we can let everyone feast in the dining hall without us. Unless you have elsewhere to be today?”
“Nowhere at all,” Teia said. “Nothing that won’t keep, at any rate. I’m to be married in a month and two days. We’ll take whatever happiness and fun we can until then—though if you want—”
“I want you in my bed, ready to be fucked by the time I join you,” Penli cut in.
They bestowed matching grins on him, bright and beautiful, and oh, he really was stupid to get so tangled up in a mess that wasn’t his just to see them happy. He simply didn’t care.
He gathered up his own clothes and put enough of them on to be respectable, then went to ring for a servant and arrange their night.