Page 3 of Ceridor

That was generous of him. Just the snub this afternoon would be enough for a lesser man to take offense.

"Our father is not worthy of such a son," said Effie bitterly. "Father regularly beats Johannes so severely my brother can hardly walk the next day."

I gasped in shock, turning to my sister in dismay. "Effie, please."Shut up!

One of Ulbrecht's men spat in the dirt. I jumped when Ulbrecht put both hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look up at him.

"Come back with us, to my capital," ordered the High King, his dark brows furrowed and his brown eyes both determined and angry. "You can train and join us on our campaigns."

I couldn't believe he'd offered me the chance to fight for him. "Th-thank you, sir. It's an honor, but I could not leave my people."

And no way would I leave my sister here. Someone had to talk Father down from his more insane and drunken ideas—he threatened to marry Effie off at the slightest whim! I feared what would happen to her, and to the people here, if he were left truly unchecked.

Ulbrecht released me and nodded to Effie, bidding her to rise. She curtsied and he reached for her hand and kissed it. "Your name?"

"Alodia Ott, sir."

"Princess Alodia, thank you for your kindness and honesty. I hope to have an alliance with your family by morning."

Effie curtsied again. "I hope as well, High King."

As soon as we were out of earshot of the camp, I whispered harshly. "What in all of heaven was that?"

My sister blew a blonde curl out of her face. "Hopefully, I just saved our lives."

Chapter Three

Johann

That night we sat at dinner in the main hall, though eating was the last thing on my mind with the heavy rock in my stomach. The High King and his men indeed weren't here. I'd held out hope for a last-minute change of heart, but Father truly had refused them and stuck with his decision. It seemed he was willing to let them camp in his front courtyard like a bunch of ruffians. No ruler would stand for this. Because of Father's foolishness, we were going to be attacked.

Then a traveling bard was announced, and I glanced up to see a tall yet beautiful man step in front of my father. Without any hesitation he raised a hand to the petty king and sang in a beautiful baritone, his tone so lilting and vibrant I forgot all about the meal and simply stared.

Then my heart leapt into my throat when I realized I recognized him.

Christian.

It was Christian, Prince Regent Christian Licht of East Helvetica.

He'd been introduced as Ceridor—surely his bardic name—but that absolutely was Christian. The same height and slender build, the same short-cropped facial hair that would scratch my skin when we wrestled and he snuggled Magnus and me, though it was thicker now. Despite some gray streaks in his hair, it was still that warm medium brown that in the summer was kissed by the sun. It was him.

"Say, doesn't that bard look familiar?" whispered Effie next to me, but all I could do was nod, transfixed by his gorgeous voice that I had never forgotten because I knew it so well.

A flood of emotions surged to the surface. I'd adored Christian as a child, but when I'd become a teenager I'd started to realize the full extent of my feelings.

Thankfully, though our mother had been terminally ill by then, she'd still been alive long enough to help me understand what I was dealing with. Mother had explained that sometimes men loved other men rather than women—and sometimes both—as well as women loving women. Mother promised that she loved me even if I was a gay man, but she feared my father would not be so understanding. She explained that Danubian men in the larger cities could be together if they lived quietly, but that they had to be more careful out here in the countryside because people tended to not understand and could potentially even get belligerent about it.

Mother was of mixed Danubian-Helvetican heritage, given away in a political marriage. She'd told me that in the Helvetican Republic, gay men could live more openly and were treated just like everyone else, though that still varied from place to place. Mother had quietly urged me to move to Helvetica with Effie before Father could marry my sister off. My sister and I suspected it was only through Mother's influence that Effiewasn't sold off to the highest bidder as soon as she got her menses.

Ever since those conversations during Mother's final months with us, I'd been torn between my kingship and keeping my sister safe. I wanted my crown. I wanted to take care of this land and its people, but Father, despite being an angry drunk who tossed me around on the regular, seemed more than capable of lasting into old age and he wasn't willing to relinquish his status to his "weakling son."

Still, I'd dreamt of Christian—now Ceridor—in the years since then. Hoping he was happy, I'd imagined we'd meet again under different circumstances, and we could be just two men together, loving each other. And if nothing else, I'd hoped that one day I would be the regional petty king of West Danube and could hire him as my court bard, just like I'd promised as a child.

Now here he was, singing to my father with the Danubian High King camped in the courtyard outside.

Ceridor

I stood in front of King Ott of West Danube, taking in the tense mood and adapting my choice of song accordingly. There was an empty chair next to him, and I greatly missed the presence of his late wife. Having Helvetican heritage as well as a sharp intelligence, it was Queen Ott who had truly facilitated East Helvetica's stable and reliable partnership with West Danube.

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