Page 2 of A Guard and a Gardener

“That one comesfirst,” I snarled at him, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from my mouth.

“He does,” Luis conceded. “He always does.”

There was a clatter of plates from the royal antechamber next door, followed by a loud, haughty Mazekhstani curse that left neither of us in doubt as to its speaker.

“They both do,” Luis amended, grinning through his snort of amusement as Mathias continued to hurl insults at our king.

I pushed myself up so I was sitting on the cot, stretching out my shoulders and grimacing at the bitter taste in my mouth that made me realise I’d bitten my tongue sometime in the night. Luis handed me a clay cup of water without being asked and I grunted out my thanks, downing it in a single gulp.

“Jiron,” he began hesitatingly, scratching at his knee. Realising that he was still sitting naked on my bed, I waved him back to his own on the other side of the room. He went begrudgingly, keeping a wary eye on me as if he expected me to relapse any moment.

Which, I supposed, was entirely possible. And that was the worst of what had been done to me: I’d rebuilt the muscle I’d lost from the torture and starvation, and Starling had healed the remainder of the physical damage that the rebel healer hadn’t fixed before he died, his only goal being to keep me alive so they could continue to fuck me over.

But what all that had done to my mind? By the Blessed Five, I hadn’t even realised at first, sinking into that place I’d retreated to when the pain became unbearable, and it was only after I’d been rescued and saw the worried expressions of my friends that it began to dawn on me that something was wrong. I’d fought it as fiercely as I’d defended both my princes that day in the north Quarehian woods, but also like that day, determination itself wasn’t enough to stave off my defeat. The trauma and damage continued to steal pieces of me: a few minutes of lost time here, a flashback there, nightmares nearly every night.

“Jiron,” Luis said again. “I don’t think keeping you quiet is the answer.”

Neither did I, but I wasn’t having anyone else hear me cry out. The king had more than enough shit to deal with for me to add mine, and the guards’ bedchamber we occupied was too close to his own rooms to hope my screams wouldn’t make their way to him just as his consort’s frequently drifted in here. The pair of them liked to play particularly rough.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for me,” I told my friend, watching Luis’ expression twist between half a dozen emotions as he tried to work out if he was helping or not. “It won’t be for much longer.”

I hope.

“Better not be,” he retorted, stretching out on his bed with his hands tucked casually beneath his head, his hair pulled loose from its ties. “The rest of us need our beauty sleep if we have any chance of snagging ourselves someone as young and pretty as you have.”

My fingers fumbled at the shirt I was pulling over my head. Dios damn it, the simple reference to the boy’s existence strippedaway every layer of professionalism and calm I’d carefully built up over the years. “We’re not...Wyatt’s not...”

“Uh huh.” Luis closed his eyes. “Then you won’t mind if I relax after my long shift by jerking off to the fantasy of all that blonde hair wrapped around my fist as he sucks me off?”

White hot fury surged through me, and the other guard grunted as my tossed pillow hit him squarely in the stomach. I fought the urge to follow it over there and wipe the smirk from his smug face.

“Fuckoff, Luis.”

He just laughed.

*

Chapter Two

My heaving breaths echoed loudly in my ears, my mouth dry and my legs aching. All of that was perfectly acceptable for this lovely sunny morning – and not just acceptable, but evennormal, considering how often I slept in and had to sprint to the palace to avoid being late for work – but the huge man blocking my path was not, in any way, acceptable, and nor was his reason for doing so.

“Come on, Wyatt,” Macario Aiza coaxed, flashing crooked teeth as he offered me a warm grin. I hated that I’d once lived for those smiles. “Just give me it, and then I won’t need to bother you anymore.”

“I’ve already given you too much,” I said, my stomach churning as it always did when I saidnoto someone. It was only because it was Mac – incessant, demanding,cheatingMac – that I could say it at all. “And you always come back for more.”

“Not this time,” he said. “It’s just a one-off, I swear.”

That’s what he’d promised last time. And the time before that.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any.”

“That’s bullshit.” Mac instantly dropped the pleasantness, the sweet act that was all most people saw and had half our neighbourhood in Máros admonishing me for‘abandoning that nice boy’. If only they knew.

“Don’t forget I know how much that cushy job in the palace gardens pays you,” he said darkly, taking a step towards me. I took one back, acutely aware of the differences in our height and weight. “No one likes a fucking liar, Wyatt.”

“I’m not lying. Mother needed a healer last month, and then there were the repairs to the door that you broke, and-”

“You can affordonegold coin.” Macario cocked his head, considering me. “Even two, for what you put me through.”

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