“You’re on my team, not his,” Warrehn said, irritably.
At least his press officer had the grace to flush. “I’m telling you this because you need to understand why it has to be Prince Samir with you on the tour.”
“I said no,” Warrehn said.
“Why not?” Sirri cut in. “Yesterday you sure looked like you got on well enough, judging by the way you kept gazing into his pretty blue eyes and equally pretty lips.”
Warrehn didn’t even need to look at her to know she was smirking, hoping to rile him up. He refused to give her the satisfaction.
“Samir and I don’t get along,” he said, ignoring Sirri and looking at Ayda. “He wouldn’t want to help me improve my ratings. I’m sure his mother is in league with Vahir and has a hand in spreading those disgusting rumors. Samir wouldn’t do anything to make her position less strong.”
“Aren’t you the king?” Sirri said. “Make him.”
Warrehn went still, his heart beating faster as he imagined using his position and making Samir do whatever he wanted. His cock twitched, and he gritted his teeth, disgusted with himself. No. His father’s downfall had probably started with similar thoughts.
“I agree,” Ayda said. “You’re the head of the royal family and technically you can order Prince Samir to accompany you on a publicity tour—”
“It’s a publicity tour now? I thought it was just a few public appearances.”
“Anything less than a publicity tour across the country wouldn’t change much. The rural areas need a lot of convincing—they’re Prince Samir’s most devoted supporters because of how much he has improved their quality of life and infrastructure. If they see you together, being friendly, it will help you enormously. We’ll make the tour into an event: the new king is traveling across the country to see with his own eyes how his people are doing and to learn their needs. You will travel in a land vehicle—”
“Are you serious?” Warrehn said with a snort. “Maybe we should make it even more Middle Ages and travel in a carriage pulled by zywerns.”
Sirri snickered, but Ayda gave him a stern look. “It’s traditional for royal visits to the countryside to be made using a land vehicle, Your Majesty. Surely you’re aware how old-fashioned people in the rural areas are.”
“Fine,” Warrehn said with a sigh. It seemed there was no arguing with her. “When will the tour start?”
Ayda smiled.
Warrehn left the room half an hour later and headed to Samir’s wing. He needed to inform Samir that he would be accompanying him on the tour. He didn’t expect that conversation to go well, especially when he found Samir with his mother.
“His Majesty the King,” the AI announced as he entered Samir’s drawing room.
Samir got to his feet while Dalatteya remained seated on the couch.
Warrehn surveyed them, quashing the surge of hatred at the sight of Dalatteya. It was both easier and harder to look at Samir. He really was Dalatteya’s male copy, down to his full lips and long eyelashes. His firm jaw and fit, masculine body were the biggest differentiators, but they weren’t enough to make Warrehn forget who his mother was.
Not that it stopped his body from reacting to him. He wasn’t dead.
“Your Majesty,” Samir said, with a slight question in his tone.
Warrehn didn’t miss the way Dalatteya pursed her lips. Clearly the form of address annoyed her. Good.
“You will accompany me on a publicity tour across the country,” Warrehn said, looking at Samir. “We’re leaving in two days and will be traveling for twenty-four days. Prepare accordingly.”
He turned and left before either of them could voice an objection.
He would have to prepare mentally too. Nearly a month in close quarters with a man he detested but wouldn’t mind sticking his cock into sounded like a special sort of hell.
Chapter 8
Samir listened to his mother’s incensed rant for half an hour, before finally cutting her off with, “He’s the king, Mother. I must do as he says. Being angry wouldn’t change anything.”
Dalatteya stopped pacing, her expression becoming distant and thoughtful. “You’re right. Perhaps… Perhaps we could use this.”
Narrowing his eyes, Samir said, “Mother? What are you talking about?”
But Dalatteya hummed and changed the subject.
It was extremely annoying, but she refused to tell him what she was planning, no matter how much he prodded her.
“It would be better if you don’t know,” Dalatteya said at last. “He’s a strong telepath. He might read your mind.”
And that was that.
Samir wasn’t happy, but he had no choice but to relent and simply wait for her to act.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Next morning, he was woken up early by his mother and urged to get a hearty breakfast right now.
“In the smaller breakfast room,” Dalatteya added.
Shooting her suspicious looks, Samir got dressed and headed there. His mother didn’t accompany him.
When he entered the room, he paused, finding Warrehn seated at the head of the table. He was wearing all black, as usual, his gleaming golden-brown hair the only remotely not-grim thing about him.