Page 40 of The Beauty and His Beast

“No, Camdyn,” Everild replied, his voice firm yet tender. “It’s late. You must rest.”

Aldaay, ever the practical advisor, spoke up. “We all ought to sleep. There’s nothing more we can do tonight but speculate about the morning, and you’ve had a trying last fewdays, my lords. I’ll let the kitchen staff and the stable master know that you’ll be departing tomorrow, Your Majesty.”

Camdyn released Everild’s hand reluctantly. “Let me at least have your rooms prepared, my lords.”

“Your Royal Highness, there is no need—”

“Oh, please, let me help in some way.” He turned to Everild, his big brown eyes wide and pleading. It was so late, and they’d have to get up early in the morning, and Camdyn needed to sleep, but he had never denied his husband any request, and he would not start now.

Everild pressed a kiss to his husband’s lips. “As you will.”

“I’ll wait for you, husband,” Camdyn murmured. His voice was soft but unwavering. Then he turned, inclined his head to the crowd of advisors, and strode out of the room.

One of the men, after a moment of silence, said very carefully, “Your Majesty must be very pleased with this union.”

Everild couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. He could never help but smile when he thought about Camdyn. His husband thought God had brought them together. He had said it many times. As they lay pressed together in bed, skin still hot and flushed from their exertions. Working in the garden, pulling at weeds, dirt under his nails, and the sun in his face. Relaxing in the bath, head tucked under Everild’s chin, eyes closed and humming. Everild wasn’t sure God had anything to do with it, but he erred on the side of caution. He quietly thanked God for Their divine intervention when he held Camdyn in his arms at night, lulled to sleep by his soft snores.

Everild was extremely pleased with his marriage. He was happier than he had any right to be. He had never been a man for flowery turns of phrase, had always shirked from speeches and discussions at court. But when it came to Camdyn, words came easily. He loved his husband beyond what words could express.

And tomorrow, for the first time since their wedding day, he would have to leave him.

???

When he finally returned to their room, Camdyn wasn’t dozing in bed as Everild had expected. Instead, his husband gazed out the window, dressed in Everild’s velvet tunic, which had long since been repurposed into Camdyn’s favorite night robe. It looked beautiful on him; he always seemed so warm and comfortable wearing it. The color suited his pale skin, and it left his long legs on display.

The pearls rested on Everild’s desk, a small pile of precious gems next to sheets of parchment.

Everild placed his hands on Camdyn’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. “What are you looking at?”

“Just the stars,” Camdyn replied softly. “I wasn’t sure if you still wanted me to wear the pearls. I can, if you want. Do you—are you in the mood?”

If it had been any other time, any other day, Everild would’ve gladly accepted the offer to enjoy one another’s touch. But the king had been murdered, a crowd of strangers filled the castle, both of them were exhausted, and by tomorrow evening, they would already have said their goodbyes.

How long would it take to root out Dustan and his allies? First, he had to find his treacherous cousin and kill him, and then those who declared their support for his cause had to be dealt with. A siege needed to be avoided. Camdyn’s little garden was still growing, but most of the crops had been harvested. Any responsible lord would have a castle well stocked for winter. God, what a mess. This could take months if they made a mistake.

It was agony to imagine being away for that long. There would be no morning love-making, no breakfast and talk afterward, no kisses goodbye, no happy updates about the garden or the latest research in the library as they prepared for a bath, no small, soft, warm body clinging to him throughout the night.

Everild pulled Camdyn into a tight embrace. “Do you remember our wedding night?” he asked. “All you wanted was to kiss and talk.”

“I do,” Camdyn replied.

“That’s all I want now. I just want to kiss you, hold you, and fall asleep to your voice. Can we do that?”

Camdyn smiled. “Oh, yes, of course, Everild.”

It was almost shocking, the difference in their behavior. On their wedding night, Everild had been stressed beyond belief, worried about frightening his new husband, scared that he might make him uncomfortable. Camdyn had been shy, confused, and uncertain about Everild's wants as well as his own. But the two of them had been so hopeful that they could make their marriage work.

Now, Camdyn undressed him with practiced ease, waiting until Everild had taken off his boots before unbuttoning his vest and freeing him from his shirt. He carefully wrapped and set his belt on the chair as Everild stepped out of his pants.

“Now you,” Everild said. It was an easy task. Camdyn didn’t even have his leggings on; he was naked underneath the velvet tunic. But as Everild helped him shrug off the clothing, he was struck, as always, by his husband’s beauty. His skin smooth and pale, his brown curls, his large, dark eyes, his long legs. But he had changed a bit. Camdyn stood taller now, more confidently, and he was a little fuller than when they first met—the result of a healthy appetite no longer stymied by monastic asceticism. More for Everild to hold and adore. And now all thetremulousness was gone from his expression; the trust in his eyes was accompanied by desire and affection.

The sight of his husband naked and relaxed, unashamed and eager for his touch, was one that Everild would never tire of.

He placed his hands on Camdyn’s bare hips. “There you are,” Everild said with a grin.

Camdyn smiled and spread his arms wide. “Here I am!”

His husband cried out in delight when Everild picked him up—he was still so light—and twirled him around. Camdyn’s laughter was one of the sweetest sounds in the world, Everild thought, as he placed him onto the bed. He kissed every inch of his husband, ran his hands over him, trying to soak up all the little happy noises Camdyn made and the feeling of his body against his, all warmth and goodness like sunlight against his skin.

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