The ice in the Queen’s gaze melted a little. She sighed, shaking her head. “Jamil, you’re just confused. Don’t you remember how miserable you were without Mehmer?”
Jamil’s face flushed, his guilt palpable. “I was depressed because I was missing Rohan, not Mehmer. I’m sorry, Mother—for lying to you. And I’m sorry for—for this. But I made the decision. I can’t be Mehmer’s husband when I love another man. It isn’t fair to either of us. You may disown me, of course. It won’t change my mind. I’ll leave with him.”
The Queen froze. “What?”
Jamil took in a shaky breath.
Rohan squeezed his hand in encouragement.
“I’ll leave with him,” Jamil said, firmer. “And we’ll take our daughter with us. I’m so sorry—I know that would leave you without an heir, but—”
“Our daughter?” the Queen repeated faintly. “Tmynne isn’t Lord Tai’Lehr’s daughter, Jamil.”
“She is,” Jamil said with a small smile, the bond between them flaring with warmth. “Rohan gave her to me. Because I asked him.”
The Queen’s shock was almost tangible. “This… this has been going on for so long?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Rohan said, brushing his thumb over Jamil’s wrist. “Tmynne is our daughter. We are a family in all the ways that matter. I’m done letting another man call my family his.”
Queen Janesh ran a hand over her face. She pulled out a terrace chair and sat down heavily. Suddenly, a laugh left her lips. “I thought the scandal Seyn caused was as bad as it could get. As soon as people hear that my eldest ran away with the leader of the rebels, no one will give a shit about Seyn’s behavior.”
He could feel Jamil’s confusion and surprise through their bond.
“My mother never curses,” Jamil told him when Rohan sent him an inquiring look. He sounded scandalized.
Rohan almost laughed. “Your mother is a mere mortal, love. I bet she curses a lot more when you aren’t around. In twenty years, Tmynne will probably think that you aren’t capable of cursing either, and we both know that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Jamil’s lips twitched. “Maybe,” he murmured, with an impish smile at him.
Fuck, he was so beautiful when he smiled. He had the prettiest, loveliest smile in the world. Rohan could look at him forever.
Only when the Queen-Consort cleared her throat did he realize that he was leaning in, about to kiss Jamil, right there, in front of Jamil’s parents.
Rohan straightened, the back of his neck heating. Jamil was chewing on his lip and blushing too, but embarrassment wasn’t the only thing Rohan could sense from him. Jamil wanted to be kissed. It had been too damn long, and they both were needy, starved for each other. One kiss had been nowhere near enough to sate their mutual hunger.
With some difficulty, Rohan looked away from Jamil.
His gaze caught the Queen’s, who was watching them with a strange expression on her face.
“All right, Jamil,” she said. “If this is not something I can change your mind on, we will do everything as it must be done. You will get a divorce, and you will marry Tai’Lehr—you did have the decency to propose to my son, I hope?” the Queen said, glaring at Rohan, though nowhere near as fiercely as she had before.
Rohan smiled, bowing. “Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you. Your acceptance means a lot to Jamil.”
The Queen pursed her lips, but he could see a flicker of approval in her eyes. “At least your bloodline is impeccable,” she said grudgingly.
Behind the Queen, her wife rolled her eyes, making Jamil laugh.
His beautiful eyes shining, Jamil grinned at him and squeezed Rohan’s hand, his relief and happiness filling their bond like sunshine.
Rohan couldn’t help it: he kissed him quickly on the mouth.
“Tai’Lehr!”
Chapter 38
“I’m sorry, come again?”
Prince Seyn of the Third Grand Clan stared at his older brother and wondered if this was just a vivid, elaborate dream. He was still having trouble processing everything that had happened in the past few days—it still seemed unbelievable that his so-very-proper brother had been having an illicit relationship with a rebel under their very noses for months—but this was too ridiculous.
He received a flat look from Jamil. “Mother insists that I need to have a chaperon every time I’m alone with Rohan until the divorce is finalized.”
Seyn chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not even going to talk about the absurdity of me being a chaperon, but eh, isn’t it a little too late for that?” It was stupid. Why did it matter, anyway? Everyone now knew that Jamil and Mehmer were getting a divorce, and Mehmer had already moved out of the palace and gone traveling until the scandal would blow over. Seyn had felt a little bad for him, except Mehmer didn’t seem all that upset. If anything, he had seemed cautiously excited about no longer being constrained to comply with the stifling rules he had imposed on him since before he could talk as a future king-consort of the Third Grand Clan. There didn’t seem to be bad blood between him and Jamil, as far as Seyn could see. They still seemed to be friends, even if their relationship was a little strained and awkward. In any case, Mehmer was unlikely to give a shit if Jamil and his future husband weren’t chaperoned while they were alone.