I could see a shy grin spread across Sylvain’s face.
“It is nothing,” he answered.
Seton, now we must sleep and wake before long if we wish to live.”
“Sleep? We must leave now! They will be on us like hounds on a fox, we cannot wait for them in our beds.”
“We will leave in the morning,” Seton stated and stretched tiredly. “Before the cock crows, our feet will know the road. The castle and the King are in enough of a state this night. There is a fair chance Cale will be overlooked until the dawn.” He looked at Sylvain. “For this I am thankful to you, healer and fighter.”
As if sensing my next words, he added, “A ship is leaving at first light, and we will be on it or know the block. But I will be sleeping with my blade close at hand this night.”
Chapter 18
In the dark, pain is distant. Physical pain is hidden behind the sighs of spiders spinning webs in dark branches and emotional pain is a ghost pulling at your uncovered feet when you turn in your bed.
Seton lay with me and both our aches felt closer and more insistent than the weaving of a web or the wandering of a specter. Both of us ached in each other’s arms. I felt him pull me tighter when I sighed and I clung to him when he emitted a soft gasp. Exhaustion was the ghost here, and though we both yearned to yield to its haunting, being in bed together for the first time was more alluring and our sleepy senses were sharply aware of each other’s bodies. Close, closer, so close, and so complete. Could this completion heal the damage done to us? Neither of us could tell. Instead, we held each other and did our best to live amongst the hurt surrounding us.
“Will we survive this night?” I asked, seeking consolation.
“I heard a saying once, ‘the night is a friend to those who seek its protection,’ and it is in this I am finding solace,” Seton replied soothingly.
“What of the ship?”
“Tonight, when I left the castle I sought Claus, and found him at a theatre in town where his troupe had performed. When I told him my plight, he reminded me of a spice merchant by the name of Doremme, a friend and as silent as the ocean when it comes to his cargo.”
“Your brother,” I said, suddenly alert and thinking of Claus. “Will he not join us? If Duir should know of his relation to you, it could mean his doom.”
Seton laughed. “You are full of many worries. My brother and I part many times, only to eventually find one another later. He will do as he wishes and I will do the same. He has found happiness here. Duir knows not of my relation to him and Therese has larger concerns on her mind than to reveal Claus’s identity.”
“The sickness?”
“I believe Sylvain may have been correct in his talk of plague. Claus told of seeing many bloody horrors before he parted from Therese.”
I exhaled. My body was exhausted and my mind spun. “I hate the thoughts in my head, swirling like smoke and able to penetrate the cracks of my heart. If Therese is ill and knows of the illness, why does she remain mute? Yet, I am no better. I have remained silent because of doubt, fear and the pageantry of the coronation. I am no better than she.”
“Perhaps not,” Seton responded. “Perhaps no one is better than anyone else, and that is the answer.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you truly believe Duir to be a better man than Sylvain or yourself? Is Therese less than Tienne? These beliefs exist only because those who govern have made them so.”
When he finished, he kissed my forehead as if to comfort me.
“You don’t know Duir as I do, Seton. You have only been in his court a short time. He is trapped as we are, maybe more so because he is blind to what is happening.”
“You would defend him?” Seton lifted himself from my arms, folded his arms across my chest, and rested his chin on them so he could look at me.
Even in the dark I could sense his eyes on me.
“Maybe I defend him to mask my own humiliation for having been blind and deaf for so long to what they truly are and who I truly am.”
“It doesn’t matter, my love. Soon we will know the expanse of ocean and new lands where everything smells of spice and people are not judged by velvet or cock.” When he said the last, he moved the blanket covering us and saw I was partially erect. “Should you not know release before you dream?”
“Your mouth is a dream, perhaps everything else is a nightmare.” I groaned as his hands continued to stoke my passions.
“You shall have a waking dream,” he answered seductively and I felt his body slide along mine, one hand stroking my cock, the other finding and pulling roughly at my chest. Once his fingers found a nipple, they tugged on the tender flesh until it hardened and I moaned.
I kicked the blankets from the bed and felt the cool night air creep across my naked body. Exposed to him, to the ghosts, to fear and pain, and yet I wanted it, yearned for the release and exorcism of the words, thoughts and fears in my head.
“You ache.” Seton’s mouth hovered close to my swollen cock. “I want to know the ache of your cock as it pulses, hot and hard.” His words made my body tingle.
“Yes,” I grunted as I felt the seductive swirl of his tongue along the tip of my cock. “Put my cock in your mouth.”
When he licked at me, his tongue caressed the entire length of my cock before he stopped at the top, before taking me inside him.
I moaned and lowered my hands until they found the top
