“Had me flogged.” Niko smiled a little and Julian grinned back.
“It was that or execution. You surprise him.”
“And that’s good?” And why did this have anything to do with Vasili?
Julian fell over Niko and braced a hand on either side of his body, then lowered himself carefully so as not to upset the wounds. “It’s more than good.” He sealed his hot mouth over Niko’s. His tongue thrust in.
Niko ached for so much more. He wanted to discover what Julian liked, how he tasted all over, and what noises he’d make beneath Niko’s fingers and mouth. He wanted Julian writhing and begging, but also wanted Julian to look at him with eyes full of strength and understanding.
Julian withdrew, making Niko moan for more.
“Hm,” the guard said. “I’ve watched you a great deal. Seen you furious, stoic, repulsed. I prefer you like this.”
“Sprawled on my back, at your mercy?”
“Exactly.”
He could switch that around once he was stronger. And then they’d explore each other during long, hot nights of pleasure. Niko wasn’t particularly experienced, but that first encounter at the Stag and Horn and the stolen moments with Marcus had taught him much.
“You’re clearly feeling better,” Julian shuffled backward and climbed off the bed. “Vasili said you should see him as soon as you can.”
Niko rolled his eyes. “Of course he did.” But he did need to speak with the prince. “I doubt it’s to thank me for saving him.”
“He hasn’t mentioned it, no.”
He’d have been surprised if he had. Niko eyed his shirt, which was all the way across the room.
Julian tracked his gaze. “Would you like me to help you finish dressing?”
“Please don’t,” Niko smiled. “Or I fear we’ll never leave.”
Vasili was in the bathhouse, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, but he made it one by asking Niko to enter alone. Niko frowned and opened the door.
The baths were as empty as when he’d first visited weeks ago, but for one person.
Vasili sat in a huge sunken tub, facing the door. But his eye was closed, his head tilted back a little. The water was still, its surface broken only by pink rose petals. Niko had forgotten the subtle smell of roses and how it had clung to the prince the first time they’d met.
The door swung shut with a clunk, and Vasili opened his eye.
Vasili’s stare landed, digging in like claws. A chill ran down Niko’s back, but he’d be damned if he stood at the door like some timid deer.
He approached the edge of the bath, hands clasped behind his back. The wrappings around his waist constricted each breath, shortening them. Hopefully Vasili wouldn’t notice and misconstrue his quickened breathing as fear—or something else.
“You have recovered well,” Vasili said.
A compliment, or just a statement of fact? The latter, surely. “Julian is very attentive.”
The prince’s eyebrow arched. “He is, isn’t he?”
Niko’s gaze dropped guiltily. He set his body into motion, moving about the baths as though checking them for threats. Yes, that would be his answer if Vasili asked. Checking for threats, and not moving because the prince might see exactly what Niko thought of Julian.
The prince was naked, his pale skin almost invisible beneath the milky water. A few pinkish scars showed through. Niko’s thoughts unhelpfully flashed to having Vasili on his back and how he’d peeled open his shirt to inspect the marks. He’d tried not to think of that encounter at all, but the elf attack had left him with too much time and too many thoughts. He’d come to the conclusion that Vasili hadn’t been afraid. He’d wanted Niko to see those scars. Why?
Niko’s boots clicked solidly against the stone as he walked. It was a good sound, a strong one, though he wasn’t feeling particularly strong. Steam and water soaked through his clothes, clinging to his skin. He made his way around the entire room before returning to his spot between Vasili and the door.
“The elf,” Niko said, watching the prince’s face closely for a reaction.
“Hm?” The prince shifted slightly, making the water ripple.
Niko’s heart jumped into his throat at the thought of Vasili striding into the baths with Niko still present. A shocking thought. Vasili would never reveal himself so. Although if he did, Niko might be able to tell if the prince had a blade up his ass, which would explain how he was always armed and why he acted like a prick every hour of every day.
“The elf?” Vasili prompted.
“Yes.” What had he been saying? He realigned his thoughts away from the prospect of seeing Vasili naked, and how terrible that would be. “You knew the assassin was an elf.”
“I didn’t know at the time. Only later, when you mentioned it while bleeding all over Julian’s bed.”
That felt like a lie, but Niko couldn’t pin down why. The man was impossible to read. Vasili blinked back, lazily amused. Frustration heated Niko’s blood. Vasili probably sensed that too, like he could sense small weakness in his prey.
“You have become close with Julian.”
Not a question.
Niko’s thoughts narrowed to a single point: Protect Julian. Whatever happened, however this ended, Niko still hoped to escape it all, but Julian might not want or be able to leave, and if Vasili didn’t approve of their…whatever they had, Julian would suffer. He had to tread carefully.
“Friends, yes. He’s a good man.”
“He said the same of you. He’s clearly wrong.” Beads of water glistened on Vasili’s lashes. He didn’t look as though he were about to pounce or issue an order to have Julian killed, but he hadn’t looked particularly murderous right before he’d cut a doulos’s throat either. “You’re both soldiers,” Vasili added.
“Ex-soldiers.”
“You have much in common.”
Why had the conversation turned to Julian? “This isn’t relevant.”
“Isn’t it?”
Niko swallowed and sighed, leveling his thoughts. “An elf made it through Loreen, breached the palace, and was able to fire an arrow at you from the training courtyard walls.” A tiny cut marked the prince’s shoulder where the arrow had skimmed him. It could have been much worse.
“I had noticed, yes.” A tiny shimmer of—surely not humor?—brightened his eye. “Perhaps you should ask Julian what he saw.”
“The same as I.” Niko’s brow pinched. “For a man being hunted by elves, you do not appear to be afraid.”
“Fear is useless.”
“I disagree.”
“Then you have not experienced real fear.”
“I’m…” Niko had been about to deny it, but stalled, wondering when the prince had experienced real fear. Vasili still rested against the edge of the bath, his arms spread, head tilted. But something had changed, like after the gallop through the field. It was too subtle for Niko to pin down. “I’ve experienced real fear. The useless fear you speak of is the kind that makes your body betray you. You freeze, unable to run, to fight, to do anything but listen to your own heart pounding and feel the cold sweat break out across your skin. You’re a victim of it, not its master. I left real fear behind on the front line. If I hadn’t, I’d be dead.”