“What about Prince Warrehn’s younger brother?” Jamil said.
Rohan grimaced. “He’s likely dead. When he was escaping from his would-be assassins, Warrehn was forced to give the kid to someone else so that the boy had a chance to escape, but since the little prince didn’t turn up anywhere over the last nineteen years, the boy must be dead. Dalatteya seemed to think so, too.”
Jamil shook his head slowly. “I still can’t believe Dalatteya is capable of murdering innocent boys...” He cocked his head to the side, thoughtful. “I presume Prince Warrehn is ready to return home? He’d better have ironclad proof that his aunt is the one trying to assassinate him, or no one will believe him. Dalatteya has excellent connections in the Council. People love her and her son, love them far more than the direct line Prince Warrehn belongs to.”
Rohan frowned. “I know. We don’t have proof that she’s the one attempting to kill Warrehn. It will be Warrehn’s word against hers.”
Catching Jamil’s strange look, Rohan said, “What?”
“You know a lot for an average rebel,” Jamil said.
Rohan suppressed a sigh. Jamil had been bound to get suspicious, sooner or later, but he would have preferred for it to be later than sooner. He wasn’t sure if Jamil would consider him a liar for not telling him the truth from the beginning.
He picked up Jamil’s hand and stroked his long fingers before bringing the hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips against Jamil’s signet ring and felt Jamil tense up.
Their gazes met and held.
Rohan didn’t need to say anything. It was a gesture of fealty, used only between a lord-vassal and their monarch.
“Rohan’ngh’lavere, the governor of Tai’Lehr. At your service, Your Highness.”
Chapter 19
Jamil stared at him.
He would like to say he felt furious or betrayed, but to his shame, the first emotion he felt was hope. Painful, illogical hope that they could actually be something permanent, that they could be them. It was a fool’s hope: the fact that Rohan was of noble blood didn’t change anything, considering that under the current law, Rohan and his people were law-breakers. Even if Tai’Lehrians decided not to go through with revealing their unbonded state to the Council, Rohan would still have his fictional bondmate and wouldn’t be able to marry Jamil even if Jamil did the unheard of and married a second time.
Jamil almost laughed at his own thoughts. Rohan had never expressed any desire to marry him. He was mostly heterosexual. It was all good and well to get off with another man, but actuality sharing life with one? Rohan hadn’t even hinted about wanting that.
Heavens, he was being pathetic. A needy, pathetic idiot.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I don’t like it,” Rohan said, his dark brows drawn together.
“I’m fine,” Jamil said with a forced smile. “Just surprised.”
Black eyes bored into him. “Don’t lie to me,” Rohan said, squeezing his hand. His voice softened. “What is it, sweetheart?”
The worst part was, he wanted to confess everything. The warm intimacy between them was incredibly hard to resist, making him feel like he could tell Rohan anything without being judged or looking silly.
“Just indulging in some wishful thinking,” Jamil said with a crooked smile. “It’s stupid.”
Rohan’s serious, steady expression didn’t change. “Tell me. I want to know your thoughts, even if you think they’re stupid. I’m sure they aren’t.”
Jamil hoped his face didn’t look as smitten as he felt. Fuck, this was ridiculous. He had never felt like this with Mehmer, no matter how much he had loved him.
“I just…” He dropped his gaze, looking at their clasped hands, Rohan’s fingers dark against his pale ones. “In other circumstances, there could have been us.” His face was burning, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Rohan.
A strong emotion came from Rohan through their bond, something too complex to decipher.
Rohan laid his free hand on his nape and pulled him close, their foreheads pressing against each other. “I wish I could stay with you,” he said, his voice rough. “I wish I could take you with me, and damn everything.”
Jamil squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would stop him from yearning for it. He couldn’t believe how tempting it was. What was wrong with him? He was the Crown Prince, a future king of the Third Grand Clan of Calluvia. He couldn’t just run away from his responsibilities, couldn’t abandon his family and his people.
“I know it’s selfish,” Rohan said, nuzzling into Jamil’s cheek. “I know you’d never do it, but fucking hell, it feels like the best idea ever when I’m with you.” He gave a harsh laugh, squeezing Jamil’s hand and bringing it to his mouth. “Then again, I’m not good at thinking rationally when I’m with you. You could tell me to kill someone, and I probably would.”