This room was fitted out with Aurënfaie furnishing, airy and colorful. The gauzy bed curtains rippled lazily as Alec pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the clothes chest across the room. “You think someone has been stealing letters from us?”

“More likely intercepting them from Klia and Thero.”

“But Beka’s got through.”

“To her parents, outside Rhíminee,” Seregil reminded him. “Not to us. If the Watchers were still active…” He worked at another tangle, leaving the rest unsaid. Again.

Alec shucked off his breeches and flopped down beside him. “So what does it mean? I thought Phoria had forgotten all about us. It’s not like we’re any threat to her.”

“We’re friends with Klia, and helped her succeed in Aurënen, when Phoria was against it.”

“Klia’s always been loyal to the throne, and she’s one of the best commanders!”

“Phoria’s a childless queen, Alec, and she’s not young.” Seregil gave up on his hair and tossed the comb aside. “There’s nothing to secure her throne but her own will. Klia could make a claim for it, as Idrilain’s daughter, even if she is the youngest. Hers would be a stronger claim in some minds than Princess Ariani’s, with her war skills, and certainly better than Ariani’s daughter’s.” Of all Idrilain’s children, Ariani, who shared a father with Phoria and Korathan, was the only one with children. The eldest girl, Elani, was supposed by most to be the heir apparent.

“Klia’s always been popular with the people,” he went on. “Why do you think Phoria’s kept her out of sight since their mother’s death? Phoria’s never been one to think the best of others-particularly those she sees as potential rivals. It’s a good trait in a general, but not so good between sisters. The nobility are different, Alec. Don’t ever forget that.”

“You’re a noble,” Alec teased.

“Only a very minor one, and only in the minds of Skalans. I think my people have the right idea when it comes to that. But here it comes down to heirs, and Phoria means to control that and keep it to her own father’s line.”

“Makes them sound like horse breeders,” Alec snorted, climbing under the covers.

Seregil blew out the lamp and joined him.

Alec settled his head on Seregil’s shoulder. “Still, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it, Phoria being barren and all? Why would the gods curse her?”

“A bit of bad luck for her, that’s all. And I’m sure she wouldn’t care, if she wasn’t queen.”

“Mmm. Can’t picture her as much of a mother,” Alec agreed with a yawn.

“Some are better suited than others.” Seregil idly stroked Alec’s bare shoulder, enjoying the length of warm body pressed to his. This was one of his favorite moments of the day. Comfortable and sleepy, he spoke without thinking, as images of Alec rolling around with the children came back to him. “Do you still think about it? What the oracle told you at Sarikali?”

He regretted his careless words the instant he felt Alec go tense beside him.

“Why bring that up again?”

“They aren’t always clear in their prophecies, you know. And I still think maybe you got some of it wrong.”

Seregil’s heart sank further when Alec pulled away and settled on his back. “I’m ‘the wanderer who carries his home in his heart.’ I’m ‘the bird who makes its nest on the waves.’ I will father a child of no woman. And it’s a blessing. What part of that didn’t I understand?”

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“Until you bring it up again.”

“I won’t!”

“Yes, you will. Just like you did last time we were at Watermead. Sometimes I think it bothers you more than it does me.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

He couldn’t see Alec in the dark, but the sigh that answered spoke volumes. “I am. Let it be.”

Easier said than done. Those uncontrolled feelings were threatening again, chasing away any hope of sleep. “You know, Alec, there’s no reason you couldn’t find some willing girl…”

“Don’t!”

Despite the dangerous edge in Alec’s tone, Seregil pressed on. “I’m just saying that it wouldn’t matter to me if you wanted to get a child on someone.”

There was a moment of truly ominous silence, then the bed lurched as Alec left it. He snatched the robe from the end of the bed and stormed out. A moment later the door of the library down the hall slammed decisively shut.

Seregil sat up, stunned. Nothing like this had ever happened between them. They’d had disagreements, certainly, and even come to blows a couple of times during the long winter days in that cabin, but Alec had never just walked away.

Seregil pulled on his own robe and went out into the corridor. No light showed under the guest chamber doors, but he suspected Micum and Kari had heard.

He found the library door locked against him. It would have been an easy matter to pick it open, but he knew better than to do such a thing. Baffled and more than a bit guilty, he slunk back to his own bed, hoping things would be better in the morning.

They weren’t. Alec came down late to breakfast, and when he did speak to Seregil, it was no more than absolutely necessary. Micum gave them both questioning looks, but it was Kari who cornered Seregil in the garden as soon as the meal was over.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded, already laying the blame at Seregil’s feet.

“Nothing!”

She fixed him with a dark look. “I love that boy as one of my own, and any fool can see he’s hurting. What did you do?”

“It was just a disagreement,” Alec informed her from the kitchen doorway. Coming over, he slipped his arm through Seregil’s. “Nothing to worry about. Right, talí?”

Seregil’s relief was short-lived. As soon as Kari was gone, Alec pulled him to the back of the garden, behind a screen of tall rosebushes. The false smile was gone. He was still fuming.

“If you ever suggest such a thing to me again, you’ll be sleeping alone a lot longer than one night!”

“I thought I was being helpful!”

“Helpful!” Alec’s eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment, but the look quickly changed to one of defeat. “You really don’t see anything wrong with telling me to bed someone else, do you? Is that what you do when you go off by yourself at night? Are you back to your old haunts on the Street of Lights?”

“Well, yes, I went there, but-”

“You didn’t!” Alec gasped.

“What? No! Just to visit, with Eirual and some friends, but not to bed them!” Seregil quickly assured him, and it was the truth. He’d hardly even been tempted.

“And that green-eyed one? Tyrien, isn’t it?”

“Well…yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I just didn’t think-”

“You? You didn’t think something as important as that through?”

“I’d never hurt you, talí. I haven’t touched anyone else, and I won’t!” Seregil whispered, hoping to calm him down before he was heard in the house. “You know I’ve never been with anyone I really cared for before.”

“Not with all the lovers you had?”

“Lovers in name only, Alec. A bit of fun on both sides, and nothing more.”

Alec looked sad. “I don’t see how you could have so many and not love any of them.”

Seregil hesitated, still very much on uncertain ground. Finally, he just shrugged and spoke the truth, stupid as it sounded. “I didn’t know the difference.”

Sometimes Alec’s ability to see through him was a blessing. The last of his anger faded, leaving only a trace of sadness behind. “Do you mind it very much, not being free anymore?”

“I am free, Alec. I’m with you by choice. And I promise you, this is the last time we’ll speak of any of this. I swear it, by the Light, and by my love.” Raising their joined hands to his lips, he kissed Alec’s fingers. Alec pulled him in for a real kiss, then let go and headed back to the house and their guests.

Seregil followed, his relief marred by the knowledge that nothing had really changed. Not for Alec, at least.