Requiem for a King [MxM]

Tell Me No More Lies

Quintus had been on some wild escapades in his time, but sneaking into a castle was new, even for him. There were a lot of ways he could think to go about it, slipping onto the grounds under the cover of the night, silent as death. Maybe he'd climb to the roof and drop down a cold chimney. Or sneak in behind a group of workers retiring for the night.

The last thing on his mind, however, was riding in the back of a wagon, shoulder to shoulder with the king of said castle. Gavrael had stayed quiet from the moment Havers loaded them in and shoved a ton of empty crates in with them. With the abundance of things he'd have to deal with in the coming days, Quintus could only imagine his inner turmoil.

He never had such responsibilities heaped on his shoulders, and when anyone tried, he'd pass the buck to Octavia or Celesta. Advising was more his forte than doing.

They hit another, rougher bump in the road, one that threw them sideways and shifted the crates. Quintus hit the wall, and Gavrael squished him against it. He groaned. Why were the gods torturing him like this? It was bad enough he was smitten with the king of the Forbidden City. Fate had to keep throwing them together, literally.

"Sorry," Gavrael whispered, his breath warm against Quintus' ear. The sensation dredged up memories of them in bed together, Jaredeth's lips trailing down his body all the way to his—

"Here, I'll move the crates."

Quintus stayed perfectly still and tried to ignore Gavrael's body, rubbing against his as he shifted the crates over. Dear gods, why? He'd gotten his taste of the pretty King, and yet he was still hungry. Resolved feelings, how laughable.

"There," Gavrael sat back against the wall, but they were still squished together from shoulder to ankle. "Is that better?"

No. Quintus swallowed. He couldn't stay like this much longer, not when every breath he took held a hint of juniper, not when heat invaded his skin at every point they touched. "How much longer until we're at the castle?"

"It shouldn't be too far now."

Great. He pressed his head against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, recited songs in his head, drummed a steady rhythm against the wood. An agonizing eternity later, the carriage rolled to a stop. The back doors flew open and thank the gods, a fresh, salty breeze blew in.

Havers removed enough of the crates for them to squeeze out. "My apologies. I had to take the back road to draw less suspicion."

They stood at the northeastern corner of the castle grounds, between a garden and a horse corral. Havers beckoned them into the shadow of the castle, away from the light of the half moon. While he'd said there wouldn't be much foot traffic at the castle at this hour, they still needed to be cautious.

"I can get you to your office first, your majesty," Havers offered.

"That won't be necessary," Gavrael said. "You can take Quintus down to the dungeons. I'll be fine on my own."

"Are you sure, your majesty? I can arrange—"

Gavrael shook his head. "Just make sure Quintus gets to the necromancer. Then meet me in my office." With that, he disappeared to the north side of the garden. Quintus watched him go, and a strange, warm feeling rose in his chest as he saw the confidence in Gavrael's stride.

Havers, on the other hand, frowned after the young king. "This way, please." He led Quintus to a side door on the east side of the castle that led to what looked like a storage room. Crates of various oddities sat stacked against both walls, with only enough walking room left for one person to pass through at a time.

Quintus looked up at the stacks as he followed Havers, found some labeled flour, sugar, potatoes, and the like. As they passed through the kitchen, Havers stopped long enough to grab a basket of food and shove it in Quintus' arms. "Jaredeth said to make sure the... captive is well fed."