Marcelo, the next day
“Wake up, my lovely.”
The words were accompanied by a gentle shake to Marcelo’s shoulder and a light kiss to his forehead.
It took only a moment to remember where he was, but Marcelo kept his eyes closed as Efren ran a finger along his jaw, then tipped it up for a proper, although still light, kiss.
Unlike the cold fear that had ripped through him yesterday morning, this time, Marcelo’s blood warmed appreciatively.
“Come, my lovely. Let’s make the most of this glorious morning, hmm?” Efren pressed his arousal against Marcelo’s to augment his words.
With a giggle, Marcelo finally opened his eyes. “I think you might be nuttier than Mr. Tolly’s Nutter Buzzers.”
Efren snickered. “I’m afraid I can’t gauge the accuracy of that statement for myself, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Marcelo melted into a boneless puddle as Efren pulled Marcelo astride him, fondled his backside, and thoroughly kissed him.
“Good morning, my darling,” Efren murmured into Marcelo’s neck.
Marcelo squirmed and giggled again. “Tickles.” But it was a delicious tickle from the light rasp of Efren’s morning stubble contrasting with the warmth of his lips. He snuggled into the strong muscles of Efren’s chest. “Good morning, dearest.”
“It is indeed.” Efren turned to look at the light filtering in around the closed draperies and sighed. “But alas, it looks like the sun has cleared the mountains, so we’re out of time to make this fine morning even more glorious than it already is.”
Efren flipped back the blankets. Chill morning air hit Marcelo’s backside to serve what was probably Efren’s purpose by correspondingly cooling their libidos.
“Brr.” Marcelo shivered. “Was it this cold yesterday morning, but I was too distracted to notice?”
“Get used to it, my darling. I would say winter is worse, but when it’s particularly bitter, servants will sneak in early to start a fire.”
Marcelo rubbed his hands together. The cool air wasn’t so bad. He could even see it as invigorating. Certainly Zioneven’s chillier climate did not negate the upside of his overall improved life, particularly the promise of many more “glorious” mornings and evenings to come in the company of the husband with whom he was rapidly falling in love. “Do you know if I’m to return to what was my usual daily routine today? I believe Erich said I dress for the training field in the morning, then bathe after that workout, before the noon meal?”
“Yes.” Efren nodded. “We’ll both do that. We’re still not going to be of much help sorting out what happened, and we are not yet cleared to resume the tour of the realm.”
Marcelo followed Efren’s lead, taking turns using chamber pots behind a privacy screen, rummaging through his wardrobe for his field clothes, and even preparing and using his own tooth-cleaning powder and rubbing cloth.
Efren had not done so today, but yesterday morning, he’d pulled the rope to summon Dru—and inadvertently in his mind, Erich. Perhaps that had been only because he’d awoken to a stranger in his bed and offering him some refreshment and/or an escort out of the castle was proper etiquette since Efren could hardly invite a “bed-warmer” down to the family meal. And their personal servants might not have thought anything of it because yesterday hadn’t been a typical day; it had been the day when they were supposed to leave on their tour of the realm.
Apparently on a typical day, when they were dressing in rougher clothing and not needing to take any particular care with their grooming, they went through their initial early morning routine on their own.
Although still an unfamiliar process, it was easy enough to do, at least until Marcelo laid down his hairbrush. Yesterday, Erich had done his hair in a queue, which made the most sense for morning practice. He’d worn his hair in that style in the past for riding, but he’d never thought to pay attention to how that was achieved.
But he did know how to tie a knot, so he gathered his locks at the back of his head and tied a leather thong around the bundle, close to his scalp. He could ask Erich later to teach him how to execute the more complicated style.
Efren finished first, and was leaning against his wardrobe with a glint of humor in his eye as Marcelo clumsily made his way through the balance of his grooming.
“I admire your grit and determination,” Efren said.
Marcelo’s brows drew together. “All I did was get dressed for the morning, same as you.”
“Yes, but in your memory, is that something you’ve ever done for yourself before yesterday?”
Marcelo’s face warmed. Efren already knew the answer to that. As the crown prince of Zioneven—as opposed to the superfluous rare royal son in Sheburat’s matriarchy—he would be informed of minute details about the royal families of the four realms, and he would have particularly known all about Marcela’s younger siblings in case the contingency plan had to be put into place so Efren could make an informed choice. Even if Marcelo were inclined to tell an untruth, there would be no point in it.
“No.” He drew in a deep breath and stood straighter. “But it wasn’t particularly difficult.”
“But you didn’t fuss. You saw what was expected of you here in this society, and you did it without question or complaint. You even improvised with your hair.” Efren stepped closer and picked up Marcelo’s hands. “Yes, it’s a small thing, but I have difficulty imagining any other noble from Sheburat, man or woman, doing the same.
“You think that’s ‘grit and determination’ rather than caving on my principals in order to conform?”
Efren grinned knowingly. “Are you doing what you want to do despite what you grew up thinking was the only proper way to do things, or are holding your nose and doing things you find distasteful out of fear?”
“All right.” Marcelo’s lips twitched. “I see your point.”
“Every time I see your lovely chin go up, I feel a little more proud of you. Doesn’t matter that this example is something minor. Determination is clearly a large part of your character.”
“Thank you.” Marcelo gave Efren’s hands a press. “I appreciate the way you build me up and encourage me. Erich was concerned that not remembering my seemingly out-of-character courageous deeds might have a negative effect, keeping me from again becoming the man I’d been two days ago. But I can see you’re not going to let that happen.”
Indeed, nobody would. Marcelo had been shown nothing but true respect borne of the person they knew rather than his rank. He’d earned it, apparently, and he was determined to continue to earn it.
“Shall we?” Efren proffered an elbow, Marcelo took it, and they walked together to break their fast with the family. To his credit, Efren only pointedly flexed the arm Marcelo was holding half a dozen times, and did stop after eliciting the giggle he’d apparently been striving for.