Faust retreated with a small wave toward Tanya and skipped alongside Rene. “Where do we go now?”
“Back to Ignas, of course,” Zara answered first. “Unlike this guy,” she pointed to Rene, “we are more aware of the safe places in any city right now.”
Rene scowled and pushed his monocle in place.
Faust snickered. “He may smite you.”
“He can try,” Zara challenged, her fire stone flaring at her waist.
Rene turned his head away.
Zara pulled Faust closer by his shoulders. “Now, let’s go make Ignas hot for you, my lord.”
Faust sputtered.
Chapter Eleven
Faust grew nervous the closer they came to the brothel. So far, no one had stopped him or shot him a second glance. That was left for Rene.
Zara knocked on the door. The slot slid open, and a man permitted their entry. She pulled the door open and ushered Faust and Rene inside.
Faust took in the room, and his ears grew hot once more. The sounds of the establishment were much louder this time. He couldn’t look at the unreasonable number of closed doors and was met with the stares of a few men at the other end of the hall. They appeared to be taking a bet as to who would approach him.
“Oh, you’re back!” the owner called from the second floor. She descended the stairs with grace.
“We’ve come to collect Ignas,” Zara said.
“Oh, he might be done soon, I suppose.” Her eyes lit with mirth. “He is on his third person.”
Faust clenched his fists. They weren’t even gone that long.
The owner shared a look with Zara. “Oh dear,” she said. “Were you expecting time with him instead?”
Not right now, he wasn’t. Faust wanted to crawl into a hole.
Rene cleared his throat. “No.”
“You be quiet,” the owner snapped. “I can arrange a room for you two. He still pays for it, anyway.”
Faust shook his head. “I appreciate the offer.”
“My lord.”
Faust put his hand up to stop Rene’s impending scolding. He wasn’t up for one of Rene’s lectures here. It was obvious the owner wanted to swindle more of their coin. It was a common practice, but he hadn’t pegged Ignas as someone who would drop that much coin. No wonder his prices were so high.
A door down the hall opened, and the blond from before shuffled out the door looking rather pleased. Not long after him, a tall man and woman sauntered out, just as pleased.
Ignas smoothed out his hair as he stepped out the door, looking satisfied. He glanced over and met Faust’s narrowed eyes. Ignas raised his brows and flashed Faust a bashful smile, wandering over to him. “Why hello, gorgeous.”
Faust avoided Ignas’s gaze.
The owner covered her mouth in amusement. “Oh my, Ignas. You snubbed him.”
Ignas’s smile faltered. “He deserves better than here.”
So, Ignas was interested in more.
Another door opened from upstairs. “Madam, have a pleasant day,” a voice called sweetly. A tall blond in a simple tunic and pants walked out and closed the door himself.
“Oh, Nik,” the owner said. “You were in there quite some time.”
“I prefer to pamper than rush,” Nik said, descending the staircase.
Faust stared. What was his brother doing here of all places? And why was his hair blond again? Konrad would lecture him for days. No matter how much Nik boasted that it made his blue eyes stand out better, Konrad would counter with the argument that royalty should look natural, not superficial. He could just hear it all now.
Nik’s gaze swept over the guests at the entrance and focused upon Rene. “And what brings the court historian here? Last I recalled, you did not care for such activities.”
“That has not changed,” Rene said, his hands clenched. “What are you doing here?”
“I believe that is a bit obvious.” Nik looked Ignas up and down, intrigued, Rene forgotten. “Hello,” he said with a charming smile.
Ignas’s lips twitched. He, too, looked Nik up and down.
“Do you have time?” Nik motioned to a room.
“I will charge you both double,” the owner said.
Nik considered it. “Then we can put on a show out here instead.”
“You will do no such thing with Ignas,” Faust blurted, adjusting his glasses. There was no way he’d let Nik have Ignas.
Nik blinked hard, recognition crossing his face. He looked around and settled on Faust.
Faust adjusted his stance, hands on his hip. “Ignas is mine.” And he meant it down to his very soul.
Ignas’s eyes darkened, and he waltzed over to Faust. He gave Rene one glance and pulled Faust close to him with a step backward.
Faust stumbled into Ignas’s warmth but didn’t protest as Ignas ran his hands over Faust’s sides to his lean hips. He shuddered under the touch, want thrumming through his body.
“My lord has spoken,” Ignas said.
Nik scoffed. “I will fight this . . . lord for you then.”
“Then a fight you shall have,” Faust said and leaned into Ignas’s chest, gripping at his clothes. His scent and warmth lacked the aroma of Ignas’s supposed activities earlier. Perhaps he’d misjudged the situation, but right now, he would not hand Ignas over to Nik, regardless of what Faust thought had transpired in that room. Ignas was his! He saw him first. Ignas was the first person that wasn’t afraid of Konrad’s wrath—this was his chance.
Rene gave both princes a flat stare.
“I would be honored to be your prize, gorgeous,” Ignas said, his gaze filled with lust.
Faust’s stomach fluttered in anticipation.
“Well,” Zara said, “that requires a change of location.”
“Anywhere is fine.” Nik smiled.
“I will not tend to either of your wounds,” Rene announced.
Nik shrugged. “As if he can hurt me.”
Faust’s smile widened. Oh, but he could.
“Was the area clear, Ignas?” Faust asked.
Ignas leaned against a tree, relaxed. “Scouting revealed nothing amiss. Should be all clear, gorgeous.”
Zara settled on a rock near Ignas, grinning.
Faust unhooked his cloak and gave it to Rene. A bold gaze roamed down his backside, and Ignas whistled in appreciation. Faust turned in amusement.
The wind whistled, and a notch etched beside Ignas’s tilted head. “Nice try, historian,” Ignas said.
Rene scowled.
“I did not give you permission to maim my escort, Rene.”
“He needs to watch his manners then.” Rene folded Faust’s cloak and scarf. “I have strict orders to protect you at all times.”
“The king is as overprotective as always I see,” Nik said and adjusted his sword belt. “I am going to enjoy winning this match, Lord . . .”
“Arcus,” Faust finished. He adjusted his stance and pulled out one sword. “I believe you are mistaken, Prince Nik. The victory will belong to me.”
Nik slid into his stance. “You are far too young to tell me that.”
Faust stood firm, listening, watching, waiting until a leaf touched the ground.