Page 71 of The Prince's Sacrifice

They docked their boats in one of the wharfs for small vessels. After they moored and paid a docking fee, which Tor quietly explained ensured the boats would be there when they returned, Tor insisted they spend the night at an inn.

Pel eyed him. “I thought we were in a hurry to see your brother?”

Tor arched a brow. “And do you think they’re going to let us all have a good night’s sleep, or is everyone going to be summoned after a very long day when we’re not at our best?”

Pel was pretty sure there was still a bit of procrastination in Tor’s decision, but he also had a point.

Tor unabashedly wore Sir Rinil’s helmetandput his hood up on the cloak he absolutely didn’t need to be wearing in the warm weather. They got some funny looks, but Pel supposed they weren’t trying to be inconspicuous at this point, just not getrecognized.

Tor seemed to know the city well, leading them with assurance through the winding streets. The buildings crowded around them, often two or three stories high, and Pel was soon completely disoriented and had no idea where the wharf was. Even at this hour, the streets were filled with people going about their business, and street hawkers added to the general noise and confusion by loudly proclaiming their wares to everyone. Movement kept catching Pel’s eye, making his gaze snap in that direction only to find it wasn’t a threat but some other person—or horse or cart or stray animal—that had nothing to do with them.

Maybe Pel was more on edge than he’d realized. He’d gotten used to their solitary travel, and he knew what happened at the end of this journey.

He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally arrived at what appeared to be their destination, a three-story inn called The Green Blade. It was made of sturdy-looking red brick with a green door that looked like it could use a new coat of paint.

Inside, it was quieter than the street, although Pel could hear a background babble which he assumed meant the tap room was full. Everything looked a bit worn but reasonably well cared for. Pel splurged for three rooms so that Denil could hopefully get a good night’s sleep as well. He also got dinner delivered to the room for a few extra coins, because they couldn’t rely on poor lighting to protect Tor’s identity in his own capital city, and honestly, Pel just didn’t want to deal with the crowds of people.

A few more coins ensured that their clothes would be cleaned by morning after their week-long journey.

Their room was small and simple but seemed incredibly spacious after the tent they’d spent the last week in. There was a small fireplace—unnecessary in the summer warmth—a little window that looked out onto a narrow alley and the brick building next to the inn, a bed that would fit the two of them with a bit of ingenuity, and a table with a basin and ewer.

When the staff brought the food for them, they carried in a tiny table and two chairs that was set up right next to the bed, because otherwise they wouldn’t be able to get out the door. Pel was still grateful they could eat here.

As Pel sat down at the little table with Tor—who’d carefully been peering out the window when the staff had arrived—his stomach felt like it was full of both lead and butterflies, which was a very odd sensation. The food looked fine, plentiful and hot, but the smell was turning Pel’s stomach a little, and he was quite sure that was down to him and not the meal.

He really wanted Tor’s brother to like him, only that was probably the least important reason they were here right now. But Pel couldn’t seem to shake the thought off. As much as the two of them fought, it was clear High King Varex meant a lot to Tor. Pel couldn’t help but worry that the High King would immediately see all the reasons that Pel wasn’t the best candidate for his twin.

And the thing was, Pel couldn’t entirely disagree with that assessment. Any other royal choice would be more magical, and there were wiser political alliances, as well. His heart sank even as he tried to remind himself that there were other considerations. He did think that Tor was right, and happy rulers were more likely to rule their people well. But could they convince High King Varex that this was a smart choice, that the advantages could outweigh the disadvantages?

Tor suddenly pushed his plate aside, startling Pel out of his introspection. Tor rose to his feet and reached for Pel. He gratefully abandoned the meal he’d been toying with and allowed Tor to pull him up and into a kiss. It was deep and devouring, and Pel was very happy to be consumed.

Tor’s hands slipped up the back of Pel’s tunic. Pel’s hands clutched a little too hard at the man’s hips as he ground against him.

“Bed,” Pel managed to gasp out.

Tor allowed himself to be tugged to the bed, but Pel went down first, and Tor climbed on top of him, settling down as the perfect warm weight against Pel. Yes, Tor was definitely very functional today.

They kissed and groped, rocking against one another before finally tugging their clothes off, growling in frustration when the cloth didn’t cooperate in their desire to get naked quickly.

Tor gave him another bruising kiss and then asked, “You want to be inside me?”

“Please,” Pel agreed breathlessly. “How would you like it?”

Tor’s eyes were bright. “On my back. I want to see you.”

They got a pillow under Tor’s hips, and Pel stretched Tor open, remembering how worried he’d been the first time he’d done so. Now his body knew what it was doing even without Pel’s conscious thought, and he delighted in finding the spot that made Tor shudder and moan even before Pel pushed into him with his cock.

He loved watching Tor’s face like this, the openness and affection even Pel could read there. And if Tor clutched a bit too hard, his fingers digging into Pel’s hips as he thrust into Tor, well, Pel was pretty sure he was doing the same, greedily grasping skin even as he tried to tell himself that it wasn’t desperation or fear that they wouldn’t get to do this again.

Pel wanted it to last forever, but pleasure was building inexorably inside him, and he could see it suffusing Tor’s face, his eyes hazy and yet intent at the same time, staring directly at Pel, like he could see all the way to Pel’s core.

Pel found Tor’s sweet spot and aimed each thrust at it, until Tor was gasping and arching up beneath him as he came, and Pel was spilling inside him. He wanted to stay like that forever, but instead, he carefully eased out and cleaned them both up.

They curled up together afterwards.

“I love you,” Tor told him softly.

“I love you, too,” Pel responded.