Safir watched Arthur turn over the news that his older brother, Cai, had been among the Saxon wolves. Arthur did so with uncharacteristic silence, but the emotions twisting his expression—confusion, disappointment, and a bone-deep hurt—spoke for themselves, and Safir made a decision.
No one would ever have to feel such pain because of him. He turned to Rhys. “May I speak to you? Alone?”
He could feel Morien’s gaze on him, but he waited until Rhys nodded and then led him into the villa.
The hearth fire in the kitchen was all but out, but he ignored it as he turned to Rhys. “I want to change the terms of our agreement.”
Rhys, who looked as drawn with exhaustion and worry as the rest of them, only shook his head. “Touch late for that.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t want your money.”
Rhys snorted. “A mercenary who won’t take coin? Am I hearing things?”
Mercenary. He was one, no question. But was it foolish to hope that someone, someday, might remember him as more? “I betrayed Morien’s trust, and I won’t be paid for having done so.”
Rhys said nothing for a long moment during which Safir wished he’d built up the fire, if only so its crackling might have filled this silence. He could feel Rhys losing trust in him, too. What sort of sell-sword gives up his payment? What sort of sell-sword loses his way so thoroughly that he makes a lover of his master’s heir?
“All right.”
Safir exhaled. One request down.
One to go.
“I want to ask something else instead.”
Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. “The time for negotiation is past.”
“It’s not something for me. Not only for me.”
Rhys blinked. “All right. Pretend I’m game.”
“Arthur and Bedwyr are shifters now. I believe Gawain will decide to undergo the charm too and that he’ll drag my brother along with him. And there’s Morien.”
“What about Morien?” Rhys’s voice was flat but carried an edge of warning, like a blade.
“If Morien chooses to become one of Arthur’s band, he’ll need a safe place to live. They all will. Away from curious eyes and indiscreet tongues. Would you consider giving them this villa to live in? To operate from?”
Rhys’s eyes had narrowed, and they scrutinized him now. “The Saxons found Arthur here once. They won’t likely forget.”
“I believe we can secure it with a proper wall and regular watch.”
“We?”
“If they’ll have me.”
“If Morien will have you, you mean?”
Safir’s heart thumped in his ears. “I won’t stay if he doesn’t want me to. If my presence makes him feel unsafe, I’ll go.”
There, he’d said it. Felt awful even to think it deep down, but he could do it. It’d only be for winters, after all. He might see his brother during the campaign seasons. Might glimpse Morien, if he was very lucky.
His heart had stopped thumping and begun to ache. “Thank you for hearing me out. I should see to the horses.” He turned for the door.
He’d made it nearly to the threshold when Rhys said, “Are you having me on?”
Safir turned back. “Pardon?”
Rhys spread his arms. “That’s it? That’s how you’re going to ask for my blessing?”
“Your blessing?”
“To be with my son!” Rhys advanced on him. “That was your best effort? ‘I might stay, then again I might not. Not sure.’”
“I’m not going to ask for your blessing.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. And neither should Morien. He’s your son, yes, but he’s his own man. He made his way here over a distance few can even imagine, and he did it without knowing what or who he’d find at the other end. He’s done nothing since but serve your household and Gwen’s. I think he’s earned the right to make his own way.”
Oh, God, the fire in Rhys’s eyes. If Safir didn’t shut his mouth, the man was never going to hire him again.
Unfortunately, shutting his mouth had never been his strong suit.
“Morien is one of the best men I’ve known.”
One of Rhys’s eyebrows rose high.
“Met. One of the best men I’ve…met. Whereas I have nothing. I can offer him nothing. He’s a damned prince, for blood’s sake.” He looked down at his hands. Empty. Frustrated. “He deserves far better than me.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Better than a man willing to give up everything for him?”
Safir opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Rhys closed the space between them. “You’re right. You’re not going to ask for my blessing. Because you don’t need it. You already had it when I hired you.”
“What?”
“Do you think I’d trust the safety of my only son to just anyone?”
“Well, I mean, you did, so…”
Rhys clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Do you truly not understand what you just offered?”
His entire middle, evidently, for he felt hollowed out.
“Safir, I chose you for this assignment because I knew I could trust you. Because I knew that Morien could trust you. Did I suspect you’d end up in bed together? Of course I fucking did. You’re you, and he’s him. And I was fine with that.”
“No, you weren’t!”
“Son, do you think I’ve gotten where I am by never taking into account every contingency? Don’t you think that when I strike an agreement, I’ve considered every angle and have a scheme for each of them? I chose you both because of who you are and despite it.”
“Thank you?”
“I knew you would show him the way, or a way, or let him find his own way. Some might consider your history at the brothel indiscriminate. I would say open-minded. You approach bed sport with very little prejudice. There’s something to be said for an experienced guide.”
“I’ve been telling him that for years!”
Rhys grinned. “I know.”
Safir cringed. “He told you?”
“He didn’t have to. The river lands are home to many magpies, Safir. I come and go quite undetected.”
Oh, no. “Did…did you visit me as well? At night?”
“Occasionally.”
Safir groaned inside. “Did I give you worthless trinkets?”
“A few.”
The richest man in the river lands, and Safir had probably offered him hickory nuts, or bits of moss. The thought made him want to shrivel.
“Oh, stop blushing, I didn’t do it often. I only wanted to see why I kept seeing my son slip under the brothel eave. At first I figured he was educating himself. Later, I came to the same conclusion you did: he can make his own way. Because he had excellent judgment.”
Safir stared at the man. Was he hearing his words correctly? Rhys—who seemed to trust no one but his oldest associates, and wisely so—trusted him? Thought he was decent? A good influence?
Precisely no one had ever said that.
But Rhys had.
“As for your second request, my answer is yes.”
His—oh. “Truly?”
Rhys nodded. “It only makes sense. If Arthur’s band will include shifters, they’re going to need a stronghold. I’d be honored to provide it, frankly.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I believe I’ll go and tell everyone. And take full credit for the idea.” Rhys grinned, and Safir couldn’t help but grin back.
“Cheeky.”
“You have no idea, my boy. Speaking of my boy, seems you two have a few things to discuss. I imagine he’s about here somewhere. Perhaps”—Rhys cleared his throat—“somewhere nearby.”
A flicker of movement caught Safir’s eye, and he spotted it: a magpie sitting at the top of the wall. It ruffled its feathers, looking rather sheepish.
“Right,” said Rhys. “I’ll leave you two to it, then. I have a villa to give away. How generous of me!”
Safir watched him saunter down the hall. When he turned back to the kitchen, Morien stood in the center of it, tall and unsure and utterly beautiful. “Will you dress?”
Morien looked down at himself. “Why?”
“I want to talk to you about something. It seems unfair that I’m clothed and you aren’t.”
“Maybe you should strip, then.”
Safir considered that and, well…
The man had a point.
The fool was doing it—right in the middle of the kitchen. Kicking his boots free, peeling his shirts. Starting in on his trouser laces.
“I take it back. Someone could walk in.”
Safir looked up at him, but his gaze only remained on Morien’s for a heartbeat before it drifted down his body like warm water. “Didn’t worry you.”
“I shifted. There was nothing for it. Come, leave your trousers on!”
Safir grinned. “Coming and leaving my trousers on are not compatible.”
Morien sighed. “You’re impossible.”
Safir pushed the fabric down and stepped out of it. Then, just to annoy Morien probably, stripped his socks too. When he straightened, he wore not a stitch.
It was very distracting.
Safir stepped closer. “You seem awfully put out for someone who was eavesdropping just moments ago.”
“And I should be put out. You made a paid agreement with my father regarding me and didn’t tell me about it.”
“Not telling you about it was an explicit condition of the agreement.”
“It hurt.”
And it hurt even to admit it, but if he didn’t speak up for himself now, when would he ever do it? He made himself meet Safir’s eyes, though he’d rather have shifted and flown away. What if the man laughed? Or elbowed him and said he was being childish? Or rolled his eyes? That would be worst of all.
But Safir didn’t do any of those things. What he did was to take another step closer and say, “I know, and I’m sorry for it.”
Morien held himself very still, lest he misunderstand the man. “You are?”
“I am. At first I felt beholden to Rhys. For the coin but also because my word is all I have, and I needed to know I could keep it. Then we fell together, and I wanted to tell you.” Safir frowned. “I could claim I didn’t because I worried it would wound you, but the truth is that I just couldn’t make myself do it.”
“Why not?”
“I was afraid you would hate me for it, and I like having you in my days.”
“And nights.”
“And nights,” Safir granted. “Though my very favorite part of these past days has been coming to know you as a person. As another man who’s made Cymru his second home. As someone important to Arthur’s family. I thought if I came clean, all of that would end because I didn’t have anything to offer you to make up for it.”
“You had yourself.”
“Poor compensation.”
“My father doesn’t think so.” Neither do I.
A little smile lifted one corner of Safir’s lips. “How much did you overhear?”
“I heard him shout,” he hedged. “I was worried.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
Safir sighed. “You’re so pure.”
The way he said it made it sound like a problem. Morien drew himself up. “I am not.”
Safir smiled sadly. “I’m not talking about your virtue, Morien. I’m saying you’re fundamentally good. That you think about other people and how to care for them. You worry for them. You defend them.” He lifted his hands. “I’m simply not worthy of you.”
“But none of that is true! You defended me to my father. You worried enough about my feelings not to tell me the truth of your assignment. And you’ve thought of all of us, asking him for this place so that we’d have a refuge. You’re good too, Safir, whether you want to admit it or not. And not so deep down, you’re as pure as anyone I’ve ever met because no one I’ve ever met lives who they are the way you do. So…shut up.” He clapped his own mouth shut. Words just seemed to want to gush out.
Safir blinked at him. “How much did you overhear again?”
Damn. “I was perched on the wall before you reached the kitchen.”
“You cheeky—”
“And a good thing too!”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“Because…because…” He looked away from the infuriating man’s expectant gaze, but the herbs hanging in bunches from the beams were no help. Neither were the implements by the hearth or the water pails in the corner. There was really nowhere to rest his eyes but back on Safir. “Because I don’t want you to leave this place on my account.”
Safir frowned, then smiled and said the most courageous thing Morien had ever heard. “But do you want me to stay?”
It was only fair, really, to meet courage with courage. “I want you to stay. Here, with Arthur’s men. With your brother. And with me. I want you to stay with me.” He escaped Safir’s gaze finally and stared at his own hands. “But I’ll understand if you don’t want the same. I’m only one man, after all, and you’re accustomed to…more.”
Safir took that quietly.
A little too quietly. Morien glanced up at him.
And found him smiling. “More?”
“Multitudes.”
Safir laughed. “It’s true enough. Maybe I was biding my time.”
“Until what?”
“Until the shy, proud giant who’d resisted my charms for years came to his senses.”
Morien’s heart leapt, hopeful as a fledgling at the edge of the nest. “Unlikely.”
“Indeed. Would’ve been a much better wager to predict my magpie friend had a damned big secret.”
Morien fought back a smile of his own but lost the battle. “Two secrets, you mean.”
“Oh?” Safir nudged him. “One: he was a shifter. Two…?”
“He had no sense around you at all. He was charmed from the start.”
Safir grinned. “Quite against his will, I bet.”
“You would win that bet.”
“Ah, Morien.” Safir’s expression softened. “Tell me what you want, just as you do at night. Tell me, and I swear I’ll do everything in my meager power to make it so.”
How had he gotten here, to be standing in the kitchen of a remote holding of his father’s, far from everything familiar, with almost nothing to his name and wanting a man who had just as little? The peach pit around his neck scraped at his skin as if it wanted answers too.
So he gathered up the last of his bravery. “Be with me here. Help me make this place a home for all of us. Show me how to fight. Teach me…everything.” He swallowed. “And when we visit my father’s, forgive me for being jealous of the others.”
“What others?”
His throat felt tight, but he forced the words out. “The other people you need to be with.”
He held his breath, trying to prepare himself for Safir’s confirmation, for the acknowledgment that he would have to share this man. He couldn’t possibly be fascinating enough for someone who craved variety. When Safir reached up to hold his face, Morien tried to take solace in the warmth of his hands. For now. He might have now, at least.
Safir closed the last little gap between them and kissed him. It was a soft, slow, sneaky sort of kiss. Because when it started, he was trembling, but by the time Safir pulled away, Morien felt more rooted to the earth than he could remember feeling in a while.
Safir’s dark eyes shone at him. “There are no other people unless you decide you want them. I believe you’re quite enough for me.”
Morien kissed him back, dragging him as close as possible, pressing their bodies together. He got a good, long taste, but just as his cock began to get interested too, Safir pulled away.
“One thing, and I hope you’ll understand. I’ve decided I want to shift, but I’d like to undergo the charm. The stars led my brother and me here. I feel I have to trust them to show me my form.”
“I agree.” The words came out before he could think them over, but to his surprise, they felt true.
“Really?”
“Really. You’re your own man. You’ve a right to discover your destiny.”
“You aren’t disappointed? There’s a very good chance I wouldn’t become a magpie.”
“That’s true. You might become a cricket or a worm or some other tasty treat.”
Safir’s mouth dropped open in horror. “Is that possible?”
Morien shrugged, fighting another smile. “Still trust the stars?”
Safir didn’t look at all certain now.
Morien leaned in and kissed him. “You’re one of Arthur’s men. The stars won’t turn you into an insect.”
“Promise?”
He couldn’t, but he could kiss the fellow again, and then again for good measure.
After a brief detour to dress, Morien walked into the great hall and the welcome heat of its firepit to find Safir speaking with his brother. They stood away from the others, heads together, Safir’s hand on Palahmed’s arm. Morien tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help it. If anyone could talk Safir out of his decision, Palahmed could, and just now every line of his body looked tense. Then again, the man had been strung tight as a bow for a couple of days. When he finally met his brother’s eyes, he nodded.
After that, things progressed apace. They all went out to the yard and formed a circle around Safir. Philip encouraged him to crouch nearer the ground, and then he began to speak the charm.
The words were the same as those Philip had spoken over Bedwyr, but somehow they seemed different this time. Felt different. Morien watched Safir intently, admiring how straight and certain his back was, how still the hand he was using to brace himself. Round and round Philip walked, chanting. Quieter and quieter all grew around them, as if every creature in the vicinity was waiting to see who might join them.
And then Safir shifted.
The men in the circle drew a collective breath.
One that escaped Morien on a laugh. “Well, that makes sense.”