Astar swung his head, a heaviness to him like the grizzly bear within. Slow to rouse to anger, terrifying when he made it there. What Jak got for keeping company with predators.
“They what?” Astar demanded.
“Sex,” Rhy answered. “Didn’t you smell them?”
“I try not to smell my sister,” Astar growled, glaring at Jak.
“I did not have sex with your sister.” Jak met Astar’s gaze steadily. This moment had been inevitable. Jak loved Astar, as a friend and as his liege. Astar would be high king someday, and he’d be a good one. For all that Jak teased him about it, he fully intended to serve Astar’s rule in whatever capacity he could. “But I am in love with her,” he added. Funny to say it out loud for the first time. And to the entirely wrong people.
He didn’t hold his breath because that was death for a bladesman. It only added tension. But he waited, fully aware that Stella would not be happy about this.
Astar stared back at him, struggling to assimilate this shift in his world view.
Rhy, clearly out to make trouble, made a scoffing sound. “Love,” he sneered. “Is that what you call it?”
Jak leaned back so he could keep both men equally in his sights. “Yes.”
“What happened with Nilly in the carriage?” Astar demanded.
“Are you asking as the crown prince, as my friend, or as Stella’s brother?” Jak countered.
That gave Astar pause. “I’m all of those things.”
“Yes and no.” Jak gave in and pulled the dagger, spinning it through his fingers down by the side of his chair. It made him feel much better. Claws for everyone. “My prince has the right to demand an answer, if he feels the question is important to our mission or the good of the realm. My friend might ask because he loves me and wants me happy. Stella’s brother, however, should recognize that his sister is a woman grown and what she chooses to do is none of his Danu-cursed business.”
Rhy snickered, and color flooded Astar’s face. Usually the most easygoing of men, Astar was no pushover. “My twin sister is my responsibility, Jakral Konyngrr. It has always been my job to protect her.” He stabbed a blunt finger at Jak. “You will keep away from her.”
“She’s not fragile,” Jak retorted. “She doesn’t need your protection from me. And the only way I’ll keep away from her is if she asks me to.”
“She is fragile!” Astar snarled. “Sensitive. You don’t know Nilly like I do, she—”
“I’ve known Stella my entire life.” Jak deliberately slowed the spinning of his blade, willing himself to keep his temper. “And I feel I should point out that Stella would not appreciate you calling her fragile, nor would she be happy about you making decisions for her.”
“Stella isn’t here,” Astar fired back.
Rhy smiled, very pleased with the trouble he’d caused. The payback for this would sting, Jak would make sure of it.
“No, Stella isn’t here, is she?” Jak replied. “And she wouldn’t be pleased that the three of us were discussing her private business.” He slid his gaze to Rhy while still keeping Astar in his peripheral vision. “That’s what this is, isn’t it, Rhy? You resent all of us for interfering with your pursuit of Lena, so you’re going to sabotage this for Stella and me.”
Rhy narrowed his gaze to lethal slits. “There is no you and Stella. There’s just you taking advantage of her trusting nature. I’m with Astar. Stella does need protecting—from you, pirate.”
“You’re perilously close to insulting my honor,” Jak said softly.
“Then let me make it loud and clear for your mossback ears,” Rhy hissed. “You’re not good enough for Stella. She’ll be queen of Annfwn, and you’re nothing but a mixed-breed Dasnarian, mossback bastard—” Rhy broke off, stunned by the dagger that pinned the loose sleeve of his shirt to the back of the wooden chair. Glancing down, he looked at the rent in the fabric, and the bright trickle of blood where the blade had grazed his arm.
“Payment for the insult to my mother,” Jak told him, “you sanctimonious prick.”
Rhy moved, his shapeshifter speed making him a blur as he lunged across the table. Jak threw himself back barely in time, somersaulting and rising to his feet in a crouch, a dagger in each hand.
“No.” Astar’s booming order startled them both. He pointed at Rhy. “Sit. Do not shift, on pain of my royal displeasure.”
Rhy held up his hands, blue eyes glittering. The tavern had gone silent except for chairs scraping as people craned to see the excitement.
“You.” Astar pointed at Jak. “Sheathe your blades. We are friends. We do not draw on each other. We do not fight each other.”
Jak sheathed his blades and gave Astar the Hawks’ salute. His mother, Jepp, had been in Ursula’s elite guard from when Ursula was a young princess to after she ascended to being high queen. Though Jak hadn’t served the high throne similarly, he expected he might someday. Jepp had prepared him for that honor, should it come his way. Holding his fist over his heart, he bowed deeply. “Apologies, Your Highness,” he said with all the respect he could muster. “I hear and obey.”
Astar stared at him a moment longer, then raked a big hand through his hair. “Just… sit down, Jak.”
Jak did so with alacrity, ignoring Rhy’s smoldering glare.
Astar finally sat, too, then righted their cups and filled them all with ale. Eyeing Jak, he drank. “And if I order you to stay away from Stella, will you hear and obey that, too?”
“You are an honorable man,” Jak replied, instead of directly answering the question. “A noble and decent leader. It would be a rare exception for you to use the power you hold in such a dishonorable way.”
“He didn’t answer the question,” Rhy remarked.
“Shut up, Rhy,” Jak and Astar said together, but they didn’t smile, their gazes locked.
“I could order you to do it,” Astar finally said.
“Yes,” Jak acknowledged. “And I would obey a royal command. I would also make sure Stella knew about it.”
“You don’t play fair,” Astar grumbled.
“Would you?” Jak asked baldly. “You told me you wouldn’t risk losing Zeph without giving her everything that’s in you to give. Would you ask me to do less for Stella?”
Astar wrapped his hands around his mug and stared into the ale as if it held all the answers. If only it did, Jak would be the wisest man in all the realms. Rhy started to say something, and Astar flicked up his gaze briefly. “Not a word, cousin, if you know what’s good for you.”
Rhy subsided, sighing as if terribly bored and folding his hands behind his head, kicking out his long legs and pretending to watch the dancing that had resumed when their fight came to nothing.
“She means that much to you?” Astar asked, pinning Jak with a stern gaze.
“She does.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“I am.”
“Does she know that?”
“Not in so many words.” Jak had to keep from squirming. He’d never quite imagined himself being grilled by a prospective bride’s father, but this came close. Much sooner than he’d planned, thanks to fucking Rhyian. Still, sometimes hlyti had ideas of its own. The smart man seized the moment. “I’ve made my interest clear. We talked about it, in the carriage—and don’t snicker, Rhy, as I will be unhappy with you disrespecting the woman I love—and I’m going slowly with her.” Now he did look at Rhy. “I don’t want to pressure her in any way.”