“He doesn’t have staff.”
“What?” He looked up, catching Julian’s shrug.
“He dismissed them as soon as he returned from his time away.”
That seemed unusual. Why would a prince refuse to be served? Surely they all wanted to be pampered and have their needs met by others. Wasn’t that one of the innate benefits of being the ruling class? “None? Nobody attends him?”
“Only you.” Julian smirked.
Niko huffed a laugh. He’d serve the prince a punch to the face if it wouldn’t result in him losing a hand. “What of the man I saw leaving his chambers?”
Julian’s brow pinched again. He leaned back in his chair. “Man?”
“Yes. Dressed like a squire. Not dissimilar to how I’m dressed, so he’s likely staff, but higher up? I’m not sure how the staff are managed, but I assume there are tiers of authority. The man was likely someone able to come and go as he pleases, but he still answers to the royals.”
“I don’t recall.”
“You were there with me. You saw him leave the prince’s chamber.”
Julian blinked and looked at the ceiling. After a few moments, he shook his head. “No, I genuinely don’t remember,” he said, suddenly interested in the nearest note to him.
That was clearly a lie. “If you’re going to lie to my face, at least make it convincing.”
Julian laughed, leaned forward, and briefly touched Niko’s hand where it rested over the palace maps. “I see he was astute in his choice to hire you.”
“I wasn’t hired. I was bound, brought into this vicious place against my will, and flogged for killing a reprobate who deserved to die.” Niko considered pulling back, but Julian’s gloved hand reminded him of how it had been months since he’d been touched in any meaningful way that didn’t include beatings, floggings, or threats to his life. Just a hand on his, but it felt safe. He let Julian’s hand rest where it was.
Julian shifted himself closer. His knee brushed Niko’s as he leaned in to examine more notes. Only then, he lifted his hand to reach for the short list of names Niko had put together. “You write very well.”
“Mah taught me. She was a seamstress to the Lady of Bucland Manor. Reading and writing were a prerequisite of working there.” Why he’d said those things, he couldn’t imagine. Julian hadn’t ever asked him anything personal. Personal had no place at this table. Or in this palace.
“Ah, that answers how you gained your accent,” Julian mused.
“I have an accent?”
“Sometimes you speak like the ruling classes. I assumed you were better bred than most soldiers.” A small smile lifted the man’s mouth, almost shyly, as though he were ashamed to have noticed such a thing. “I read, but my writing is… It leaves a lot to be desired.”
Niko opened his mouth to offer to teach him and promptly closed it again. He had no intention of staying any longer than was necessary. Teaching the man wouldn’t be fair when Niko was leaving this gods-awful place as soon as the assassin was found.
“Were you always a soldier?” Niko heard himself ask. Julian’s knee brushed his again as he set the paper down. A sharp and unexpected desire coiled low in Niko’s belly, awakening the same urge he’d wondered about as he’d lain in Julian’s bed.
“No. I grew up on a farm.” Julian shifted again and the contact was lost. He didn’t offer any more information and reached for the palace map. “A good memory too, to note down all this from one walk.”
Niko mourned the absence of his knee against his, as well as the brush of his hand. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man, not some starved adolescent seeking his first sexual encounter in the Stag and Horn. Yet a familiar, breathless thrill had taken hold of Niko’s body, making a part of it rise in an inappropriate way. Desiring another man was common enough in Loreen, and what happened at the front wasn’t so much a desire as a need, but desiring the prince’s personal guard was something else entirely.
He grabbed for the wine and steered his thoughts back to the task at hand. Julian had always been kind, albeit within the confines of his orders. Niko had no intention of returning that kindness with a foolish crush. He hadn’t once shown an interest in Niko beyond professional courtesy. There was nothing between them, there simply couldn’t be, and there were more important matters to consider.
“When did the attempts on the prince’s life begin?” he asked.
“A few months ago.”
“So, right after he returned from his absence.”
Julian tensed. He stood and made his way around the table, deliberately facing away, reaching for a pitcher of water instead of the wine. Was it something Niko had said?
“Can you tell me where he has been for the last eight years?” Niko asked, observing the man’s bicep flex as he poured himself a drink. Julian appeared to be trying to hold himself in check, guarding against slips in his mask, but his very act of shutting down revealed a great deal. The prince’s absence was a taboo subject.
“No.”
Niko waited a beat, hearing tension in everything unsaid. “Does the assassin have anything to do with the prince’s absence?”
“I don’t see how.”
The secrets were frustrating, but Niko could no more force Julian to speak than he could get a straight answer out of Vasili. He had no choice but to work with the information they gave him. At least Julian did genuinely seem to care about stopping the assassin, unlike anyone else in the palace.
The topic of the prince’s time away was clearly out of bounds. “Tell me about Amir,” he said, hoping the different angle would open Julian up again.
Julian leaned back against the dresser and took a long drink of water before setting the glass beside him. Niko diverted his gaze from how the man’s clothing pinched at his hips and hugged his thighs. He clearly trained, keeping himself physically healthy. Perhaps there might be a chance to join him during one of those training sessions. Gods, no, what a terrible idea. Niko could barely keep his thoughts from wandering now. He wouldn’t be able to hide this startling attraction if he had to observe Julian flexing and panting.
“Amir is,” Julian began. “He’s direct, whereas Vasili misdirects.”
Interesting description. “Did you deliberately put me beside his doulos yesterday?”
Julian’s eyes widened. “Not I. That order came from Vasili.”
“Why?”
“Amir’s doulos is known to be vocal. Vasili wanted to know what the doulos would say about him, and likely what Amir was saying in their intimate times together. I don’t think he expected the comments to be so frank.”
Vasili had deliberately put Niko next to the loudmouth fool to shake something loose, like he had when insisting Niko sleep among the doulos. Niko may not have been Vasili’s doulos in the normal way, but he was clearly being used. Unfortunately, he was no longer surprised by the levels Vasili would stoop to, in order get what he wanted.
“Who holds the power in the palace at the moment?”
“Prince Regent Vasili.”
“Before he returned?”
“Prince Amir.”
“Do the brothers get along?”