And it would mean Haydn would lose his husband.
The thought was like a punch to the gut.
Haydn looked at Royce, into his solemn dark eyes. His handsome face was tense, but unlike Haydn’s father, he remained quiet, not even trying to pressure Haydn into making a decision.
Because he trusted Haydn.
He trusted him to make the right decision. His own decision.
Haydn’s throat closed up.
“Son,” Stefan said, his heavy, demanding gaze fixed on him.
He’d never said no when his father looked at him like that.
Could never do it.
Acutely aware of every person in the room looking at him with bated breath, Haydn took Royce’s hand and entangled their fingers together.
Everyone in the room seemed to inhale sharply.
Royce’s nostrils flared, his scent sharpening as he stared at Haydn.
Haydn could feel the glares directed at him from his father and the Pelugian nobles. He could practically feel the chasm growing between them. He knew he’d just become a traitor in their eyes. But it was a conscious choice. He knew what he was choosing. Who he was choosing.
“My father is mistaken,” Haydn said, tearing his eyes from Royce and looking at Lord Ksar. “My husband has been a huge proponent of peace from the beginning. Royce has never wanted our marriage to fail.”
“He’s lying,” Stefan snapped, all the warmth in his voice gone. “He’s lying, Your Lordship, just look into his mind—you’re a telepath!”
Haydn’s stomach dropped. Although technically he hadn’t lied, he doubted the Galactic Council representative would care about technicalities.
Lord Ksar just looked at him for a moment, his silver eyes inscrutable.
Royce squeezed Haydn’s hand, and it gave Haydn the strength not to drop his gaze.
At last, the telepath averted his eyes and said, “Your son told us the truth, Your Majesty. I consider the matter closed now.”
Haydn breathed out.
Stefan flushed, rage making his face red. “What about the fact that Taube attempted to poison my son—and in fact poisoned my nephew? Kerosvarin has no cure! Surely you can’t dismiss it as nothing!”
“While Prime Minister Taube’s actions are regrettable, the entire country should not be held accountable for the actions of one foolish man,” Ksar said coldly. “That said, there will be consequences.” He glanced at Taube. “Let it be known that the Galactic Council will not deal with a man who actively tried to sabotage the agreement, dismissing our peace requirement as something optional. It wasn’t. Until he is removed from office, there is no point in continuing this conversation. In fact, this has been a massive waste of my time.” He did look utterly fed up. “You have two standard weeks to replace Taube and choose one Lord Chancellor for your planet—someone both of your countries will approve of. If you don’t manage to do it by the time I return, Eila will no longer be part of the Union of Planets. I’m done mediating your squabbles.”
And with that, he activated the TNIT transponder on his wrist and teleported away, leaving a stunned silence in his wake—for a moment.
And then there was chaos.
Chapter Twenty-One
For lack of better options, Devlin was temporarily contained in the highest-security hospital in Citra while the best medical minds of the planet searched for a cure.
“Do you think a cure can even be found?” Haydn said tiredly, his head on Royce’s shoulder as they waited for Devlin’s doctor. Normally, he would never slouch in a public place, but it was a long, emotionally exhausting day, and if he wanted to snuggle up to his husband, no one could stop him, dammit. Besides, he was still feeling a little… fragile after the confrontation with his father earlier that evening, and he wanted—needed—Royce’s arms around him. It wasn’t every day one turned traitor in one’s countrymen’s eyes, after all.
His father’s last words to him before he departed still rang in his ears, over and over.
You’re no son of mine. Unfortunately, I can’t disown you right now, but you are not to step foot in Pelugia while I’m alive.
Haydn squirmed even closer to Royce, slinging an arm around his waist.
Royce laid his arm over his and entwined their fingers on his stomach. They were still dressed for the ball, but Haydn could feel how warm and solid he was even through the layers of clothes between them.
“I don’t know,” Royce said. “I’m sorry, love, but you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up just yet.”
Love.
Haydn blushed, something inside him warming at the word. It was ridiculous. It was just a word. An endearment that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Yeah,” he said, looking at their entwined fingers. They were exactly the same size, the only difference being Royce’s darker skin. Their bodies fit perfectly together. Just like last night.
Shivering, Haydn tried to push the thought away. Now wasn’t exactly the time for inappropriate arousal.
But it was so difficult. No matter how tired, worried, and mentally drained he felt, it was as though he was energized from Royce’s mere proximity, his worries becoming a distant concern when he was wrapped in Royce’s arms and breathing in Royce’s scent. All he wanted was more. He couldn’t wait to have his husband naked and inside him again. His husband. It was unbelievable how much he fucking loved thinking of Royce in those terms. His husband. His.