Page 18 of Apple Boy

Adam Sewell was open, kind, honest, and strong. We connected in a way I could not find words for. We could exchange a glance, and I sensed what he was about to say. The thought that I could teach him about the ways of the world, of manners, traditions, and politics thrilled me. I pulled him up from the bed and into my arms, and then I laced my fingers around the back of Adam’s head and tangled them in his glorious dark curls. I drew him in for a kiss. Adam came to me willingly, his soft full lips pursed in anticipation. When our mouths crushed together, I ceased to be and began again at the same moment. I was sure then that Adam could teach me so much more than I could ever offer him.

Chapter TWELVE

TROJAN STAR

Adam laid his head on the pillow beside me. He had tended to my bruises, and I’d tended to his. It was nice to be cared for and to reciprocate. I was glad the balm his ma supplied was working, and our wounds were fading remarkably fast. I did not want the evidence of being near-strangled to death by Adam’s father on my skin. I wanted the proof of passion given tenderly by his son—swollen lips, love bites and grip marks. But alas, not quite yet!

We had eaten and bathed together, but, surprising even myself, I did not try to seduce him. The kisses we’d shared earlier curdled my insides and left me quite speechless. I longed to be back in that moment, but that choice was entirely in Adam’s hands.

“Are you okay with sharing my bed? I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable we could make other arrangements.”

A drawn out minute passed before Adam broke the sleepy silence. “Ah, stop! It’s no bother. It’s grand to be here with you.” I couldn’t have agreed more. Having Adam laid out beside me was most agreeable and it did feel like he was in the right place.

“But if your lordship wishes to have the bed all to himself I can sleep on the palette on the floor.” He added in a mocking tone. My foot shot out to kick him beneath the covers. Adam pulled his knees up and guffawed. I turned and threw myself atop him. We wrestled, laughed, kissed, and tickled one another until I nearly fell off the bed. Adam pulled me back up, and we lay together, panting, our nightshirts tenting with evidence of our shared arousal. I felt gloriously happy and wished I could make the moment last longer, but then Adam said,

“So tell me, what happened to your Jossuah?” and the bottom fell out of my world. Then, after a beat of silence, he asked, “Why do you have no belongings? How did you end up in Mallowick?”

With the sudden barrage of questions, the playful happiness drained from me, and I was sure I would not rest now. I sat up in the bed and cupped my face in my hands. “Oh.” I sighed. I did not want to think about all of that, let alone speak of it. But, I resigned myself to the fact that I had promised to tell Adam, so speak of it I must. I supposed I would not find a more attentive audience than Adam. But this telling would not be easy, not easy at all.

“Is there any more wine in the jug?” I asked resignedly, peeking between my fingers, trying to forestall the tale. The mattress dipped as Adam left the bed, the candlelight playing against the thin cotton of the white nightshirt that clung to his physique, defining the solid, dependable structure of him. He strode across the room to where, earlier, the maid had left the tray of foodstuffs and the jug of wine. Adam returned to the bedside picked up and filled my goblet, but not his own. I arched a brow, and reading me Adam said, “I have a feelin’ you’ll be needin’ it more than me.” There it was again—the selflessness and concern he displayed were slowly working their way into my heart and devouring as thoroughly as a worm burrowing into an apple core. Adam placed the jug on my nightstand and returned to his side of the bed, he clambered on and lay down. I took a long swallow of the half-decent red wine from my goblet and then lay back, conscious of Adam’s warm presence.

“Jossuah is—“ I began tentatively. I paused, winced, and started again.

“Jossuah was—my real valet.” Adam shifted in the bed, turning to face me. I couldn’t look at him. I closed my eyes and haltingly, continued.

“He was traveling with me before we were parted and—” My voice faltered with emotion, “In all honesty, I have no idea what truly became of him.”

I had not uttered that fact out loud to another living soul. The words stuck in my throat and it surprised me how much it hurt to speak them. My eyes burned and watered as emotions I’d long denied bubbled to the surface. I rolled onto my side away from Adam pushing the feelings back down again and into a place that would not hurt me so. I did not want him to see me cry. Jossuah had been a good loyal servant to my family, and I’d known him since I was a youngling. He’d attended to all of my needs, and he was trained to protect me. He didn’t deserve what they did to him. But neither of us, nor my father could have predicted the betrayal that would befall us.

“As you well know, my father is Duke of Thorn.” I continued, speaking on as if I were alone in the room. “As females cannot succeed, that title will be passed down to me one day. And so, as I make my majority soon, it was agreed I should tour the provinces to gain an understanding of the friendships and trade alliances that exist between us all.” I explained.

“For six weeks I toured Terria, Corvay, and Reuss. I then spent a whole month in Osia with my father at the court of the Twin Kings in Altea.”

At a gasp of “No!” I turned to see Adam’s mouth gaping with wonder as if he heard a tall tale in the tavern. I gave him a withering look for the interruption.

“Sorry,” he winced, “I’ve just never met anyone who’s actually met the Kings. Sorry. Go on”,

I rested my head once more and continued. “My father introduced me to the workings of the court, informing me of who I should be wary of, and whose favor I should seek. I found Altea to be unsettling and challenging and I could not wait to be on my way. Erias was the last province I was to visit. I planned to spend time in the capital with my uncle Ivon for my Bloomsday. He said he would teach me of Serein, and we would meet with the Great Council, as is my privilege as an ambassador of Thorn. I’d originally arranged to travel overland by stagecoach, but my father discovered the Twin Kings had a galleon named The Trojan Star that would depart from the Port of Altea and sail the coast to the Port of Serein. It would take weeks off my journey. My father begged a favor so that I would be given a berth on that ship. At first, the kings denied my passage, but then with a further incentive of a promised visit by my twin sister Summer, whom they both wished to court, the kings permitted me to sail.”

“So you’re a twin, and the kings are twins?”

“Yes. My line, the Aelings has many sets of twins. My father and Ivon are also twins. Summer and I are identical twins. Kristoff and Fabian are the first twins in the Von Harte line, but they are not identical.” I informed matter-of-factly. Adam nodded thoughtfully, then his brow furrowed and he said,

“But I thought you said your name was Irwin Harding?”

“Ah, yes, that!” I muttered regretfully. “Let me explain. When I first found Mallowick I asked a local man for help. I told him I was the Count of Skraedig and I’d fallen on hard times. He said he would help me. It sounds naïve and foolish now, but I’d been walking for days, had not eaten, and was I deeply relieved to find a town and the possibility of help. I was traumatized by what had happened to me and—I just didn’t think. I followed as the man led me down an alley where he let out a sharp whistle, and then friends of his appeared from the shadows—you can guess the rest.”

“Noh, the bastards!” Adam reached for my hand and clasped it. “Who the hell was this gurrier? What did he look like? I swear to the gods I’ll have his hide when I get home.” Adam said fiercely. My heart leapt at hearing the passion in words, but I could not let my growing fondness for Adam distract me.

“I don’t know who he was… but, anyway it was then that I decided not to use my true name.”

“Is Win not your true name?” Adam let go of my hand, and I felt the loss of his touch all too keenly. I turned my head on the pillow and met Adam’s green eyes. I wanted so much to reach out, cup his face, and draw him closer. I needed contact with him to calm the storms within me. Softly and slowly I reassured, “I am who I say I am. I am the Count of Skraedig, Son of Brioc, Duke of Thorn.” Gods, the list of titles was so tiresome. “But my name is not Irwin Harding. It’s Winter. My family name is Winter Aeling.”

“Winter,” Adam gasped, a smile making the corners of his mouth crease. Hearing my true name on his lips made my skin sing. “Winter,” he sighed again as if he were testing the shape of my name. His eyes smiled at me and then affectionately he said, “I like it. With your pale skin and white gold hair it suits you.”

I let out a breath of relief. I rolled to Adam and leaned my head on his shoulder. That was one weight lifted from my heart. Adam clumsily wrapped an arm around me to pull me into a hug. The ease of that action and his scent and warmth all twisted my guts. Gods, did he have any idea what he was doing to me?

“Go on with your tale.”