Fighting for You Page 7

  Penli bowed. "You're most gracious, Majesty."

  She scoffed and wave a hand. "Lord Tishasanti, your answer was not wrong necessarily, but Lord Penli, your answer was perfectly correct. You are the victor in this test. The next test will be this evening, my lords, and I suggest you prepare for it to be a busy one."

  They both bowed, and Adnan dismissed them with the admonishment they should behave throughout the day, and stay to their respective chambers as much as possible.

  That Penli was more than happy to do, heart still thud-thudding in his chest at the victory so recently won. He had not expected such a challenge, not when the books he'd read spoke so heavily of physical challenges, and the more intellectual and passive challenges were skimmed over and almost sneeringly dismissed. Perhaps he should have better taken into account the bias of the writers.

  Back in his room, Penli changed out of his morning suit and into suitable lounging clothes.

  He was just settling in with some paperwork he'd been neglecting when a familiar pounding came at his door. Though it had been years since his door had been hammered in such a way, he'd endured too many bruises, sprains, and even broken bones to ever forget it.

  Sighing, he put his papers in his desk and locked it, and then strode across the room to the door. Pulling it open only slightly, using his foot to brace it so it could not easily be pushed open more, he quirked a brow at Tishasanti. "You aren't supposed to be speaking with me right now; it's against the rules."

  "I want to know what game you're playing at, Penlington," Tishasanti hissed. "I don't care what you say, we both know you haven't been Teia's lover all this time. He's far too meek to bed a flower like you."

  Penli didn't laugh in his face, but only just barely. "Go away. You may think rules are for breaking—"

  "Like you haven't flagrantly broken them all your life," Tishasanti hissed. "What are you really after? Money?"

  "No, that's what you're after."

  Tishasanti's lips curled. "Don't take that tone with me, Penlington. As though you're so high and mighty now. Groomed all your life to be married off and here you are hiding in my sands because you still don't know how to make the right friends."

  "I never cared about making any friends, least of all a refuse-eating, boot-licking, craven shitstain like you," Penli replied, and opened the door enough to shove him back so hard Tishasanti tripped and fell to the floor. "Stay away from me unless the challenges force us into proximity, or I'll report you for cheating."

  Picking himself up with what dignity he could muster, Tishasanti said, "Does that worthless whore you've been fucking behind my back know what kind of bastard you are, Penlington? Because you might think I'm stupid, but I see and hear more than anyone credits, and I've heard plenty about the foppish pretty boy who murdered and destroyed and stole for the late queen."

  "Is that your idea of a threat?" Penlington asked. "You've got a long way to go. If you know so much about me, crumpet, you should know that if I decided to kill you, they would never find the body." He shut the door in Tishasanti's face.

  And fuck, did he despise the way his hands trembled as he walked back to his desk.

  Damn it all, he just wanted to be left alone. With his pretty clothes and lavish belongings and quiet life. To be the person he'd always wanted to be instead of the person he'd always had to be. He wasn't a killer anymore, wasn't some shadow slinking around in the dark doing the things the rest of the army couldn't. Wasn't murdering his way across a battlefield to find the person in charge of the opposing army to take them out. Nor was he the puppet spouse of a hard-edged, ambitious prince who would have vanished the moment they were married and all but forgotten he existed.

  He was a man of silk and settees and soirees now, with no one but himself and Shanna to worry about. At least he would be, had he not become so peculiarly, foolishly enamored of two young men who really should have chosen someone better than him.

  Not that they had chosen him. Once they were free of Tishasanti, no doubt they'd realize they wanted to be free of him as well, and Penli would happily go back to his largely solitary life where the only significant interruption was his darling queen.

  Casting aside his paperwork, he succumbed to the urge to pace.

  What was the evening's test to be? What manner of test took place at a ball? Dancing? Penli laughed. That would be entirely too easy. More than likely they'd have to go through the myriad, hopelessly complicated etiquettes and such of various countries, since the palace and royal family boasted an endless number of foreign guests.

  At least he would be infinitely better dressed than a man who left the matter to his poorly paid, uninspired servants.

  Spinning around, Penli strode across the sitting into his bedchamber to look over the clothes he'd spent a good three days deliberating over and fussing with. He had picked it out assuming only he would be attending Shanna's ball, but now there would be a challenge he should make certain nothing about it needed to be tweaked or changed entirely.

  He ran his fingers over the beautiful pink silk jacket embroidered with white roses, mint green leaves, and pale blue birds. Like everything else, it was a short jacket, almost more like a tunic, that fell to mid-thigh with a sash of pale blue threaded with white and gold swirls, and pants that billowed around the thighs but were tight from the knees down. He also had handsome slippers, pink with a gold heel and little blue birds and pink roses on the top.

  Looking at the ensemble made him miss all the beautiful things he'd left behind. Not that he was sorry—he loved Shanna infinitely more than he loved pretty clothes—but he did love his clothes and jewels and other extravagances deeply. They were part of him, something he loved and worked hard for and at, a joy no one had ever been able to take away—though they frequently tried. His parents had thought the military life would drive the flower right out of him, and his former betrothed had clearly hoped time and frequent admonition would fix the problem…

  But Shanna had always loved his clothes—and obsession with them—and he was all too happy to think of the other two people in his life now who did not look at his choice of clothes and manner of speech and promptly think less of him.

  He petted the jacket for another long moment and then turned away—and reached for a sword he no longer wore as he saw two figures in his window, before it registered who they were. Swearing loudly and colorfully, Penli went and yanked the window open. "What are you doing here? You are going to jeopardize the challenge."

  Teia laughed as he climbed inside, Sendaar right behind him. Penli closed the window and yanked the curtains closed. "Did you know your room is right below ours and the castle walls are alarmingly easy to climb?"

  "I had noted the walls," Penli said, pinching his eyes shut as problems that weren't his problems anymore resurfaced in his mind. The walls, the windows that barely latched, the many doorways that were simply open archways… the royal palace was disturbingly easy to breach, but it wasn't his problem and he would not be so rude and crass as to tell Their Majesties things they undoubtedly already knew. "That doesn't explain what you're doing here."

  "We wanted to see you," Teia said, drawing close and wrapping his arms around Penli's waist—and then simply pressing against him, curling close like Penli was a safe harbor in a tumultuous storm.

  How was anyone supposed to resist that? Especially when Sendaar came over and Teia shifted so they could each have a side. Penli held them as tightly as he could and kissed the tops of their heads. When they looked up, he was more than happy to kiss them properly, back and forth until they were all quite breathless. "Lovely thought it is to have you, sweetrolls, you really shouldn't be here."

  Teia made a face and burrowed against his chest again, mumbling something Penli did not remotely catch past the unhappy tone. Sendaar kissed Teia's brow before saying more clearly, "All we'd do upstairs is sit around our rooms reading and such until the ball. Why not do that here? It's not as though anybody will notice." Bitterness tightened hi
s expression. "Let's be honest: everyone considers Teia the least interesting part of the affair. He's the prize, and nobody cares about the prize, except to see it go to the crowd's favorite."

  "I won't insult you by arguing," Penli said, "but I care very much about the prize wholly for its own sake. I am sorry everyone else feels otherwise. The point of this affair is to guarantee your wellness and happiness, instead of seeing you trapped in a bad one. That shouldn't be so easily forgotten." He loosed his hold enough to kiss them each again, then stepped back further. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you did not bring books or anything else with you."

  They opened their mouths, looked at each, then slumped sheepishly. "We forgot," Teia said. "Once we decided to come see you, we hastened out and left our books and writing on the desk. We can go if you want. We didn't mean to get in your way or anything. We just… thought it would be nice to spend time with you. Just relaxing, instead of…" He shrugged and looked down. "If you wanted."

  "Of course I want." Penli swallowed, because he wanted it rather more than he'd expected or wanted to admit. What was it about these two that battered through his defenses like they weren't even there? "Wait here a moment." He hastened to the front room and scooped up his abandoned book, paused to choose a few others from the small collection he'd built since his arrival, and returned to the bedroom.

  Where he wasn't remotely surprised to see Teia and Sendaar had stripped down to just their billowy pants and sprawled in his bed—at the edges, leaving room for him in the middle exactly as they always did. Ignoring the lurch in his chest, Penli handed over the books and stripped off most of his own clothes, carefully putting them away before returning to the bed and taking his spot.

  They cuddled in close and Sendaar lifted the stack of books he still held. "Which book should I read?"

  "Pick whichever you want, I enjoy all of them."

  "No, no, Teia and I were going to read to you," Sendaar said with a hesitant smile. "That was your boon, wasn't it?"

  "Sendaar is better at it, with his pretty voice, but I do well enough," Teia said.

  That damnable lurch again. He'd been perfectly fine on his own for years—why were these two getting to him so easily? Penli swallowed and picked out the book he'd been trying to read earlier. "Being read to sounds lovely, and I did ask," he replied, voice soft and husky. When was the last time anyone had wanted to do something so simple and frivolous for him, with no strings attached to it? He couldn't remember. "This one then, poppets."

  "Oh, I heard this one had been published, but I haven't had a chance to buy it," Teia said, taking it eagerly, petting the leather and gold embossed cover a moment before delicately turning to the first page. He snuggled closer, as on Penli's other side, Sendaar smoothed the book open and began to read.

  As Teia had promised, Sendaar was a marvelous narrator—and not just because of his lovely voice. He had the skills of an actor, his voice changing slightly with every character, even picking out accents and other nuances. Teia wasn't quite as skilled, but his deeper voice was just as pleasant. Settled between the two of them, warm and comfortable, it was easier than Penli would have thought possible to drift off.

  He woke to a room that had grown darker, though the last dregs of sunlight spilled in the window—a window that had the curtains open once more, and his bed was woefully empty.

  Sighing, Penli climbed out of bed and went into the front room, where someone had left a tray of food and a small box with a note from Shanna affixed. Good luck was all it said. Penli smiled and tucked the note into his jewelry case before opening the box.

  Which proved to hold a beautiful set of earrings in the shape of gold birds with long sapphire and diamond tail feathers. There was also a matching broach to affix to his sash.

  Between the company, the nap, and the good luck tokens, he was feeling more than ready for the evening.

  Spinning on his heel with a military sharpness he'd never entirely left behind, Penli went to get dressed.

  An hour later, he stepped into the ballroom as he was announced and dutifully made his way to the dais where the royal family, Shanna, Teia and Sendaar, and everyone else waited—including Tishasanti, who did not look as awful as Penli had hoped he would, so he must have gotten help from someone who knew what they were about. The man wore red annoyingly well.

  But Penli looked infinitely better in pink than Tishasanti would ever look in anything, and he had no qualms thinking and saying so.

  For the moment, though, he spoke only to murmur all the niceties, lingering over Teia's hand a beat too long. He glanced over his shoulder at Sendaar as he rose, which earned him a sweet, if fleeting smile.

  Stepping forward, Adnan pitched his voice to reach everyone in the crowded ballroom, going smoothly but quickly through the necessities and waiting as applause for Shanna slowly died away. "Now we come to what I know you're all waiting for: the next test in our challenge. Lord Tishasanti, Lord Penli, please step forward. Your challenge is simply this: tonight you will dance. Not just one or two, but many. You will dance with as many as you possibly can, and at the end of the night we will take the votes of your dancing partners. Whoever is declared the most pleasant companion to pass the time with will be the winner of the challenge."

  Penli didn't laugh, but it was a near thing. He wasn't certain what was more laughable: that the challenge was dancing, or the look of panic that appeared briefly on Tishasanti's face.

  "Dismissed, my lords, and may you enjoy the dance." Adnan's smile was a little bit evil, but Penli did not begrudge him.

  Climbing down the steps of the dais, he accepted the offer of the woman who approached him first.

  He managed to keep count until somewhere around nine, and after that everything became a blur of faces, conversations, potent wine and not nearly enough time to rest.

  It was almost a relief when Shanna called a momentary halt so she could have the dance floor to herself to dance with Kallaar. Then, to the delighted scandal of everyone, she next danced with Ahmla, who also danced with Kallaar before Shanna declared herself content. Only when Shanna sat to rest was Penli forced back to work.

  By the time the ball wound down, he could barely feel his feet or keep his eyes open. The next time he laughed at the idea of dancing as a challenge he was going to smack himself. Despite the exhaustion and agony, he remained standing tall and straight as Adnan rose from his chair and called for silence.

  "My lords, you have both performed well this evening. Very few persons had anything negative to say about either, and the final tally was quite close… but the victor of tonight's challenge is Lord Penli. Congratulations, my lord, you've done very well today."

  Penli bowed, mostly to give himself time to smother the grin that wanted to overtake his face. He was not supposed to be getting this enthralled with a ridiculous competition. As he rose, he caught Teia and Sendaar's gazes, and though he'd managed to suppress an uncouth grin, he lost the battle to a soft smile.

  Looking away from them, he caught Shanna smirking at him. Penli narrowed his eyes, and her expression returned to one of innocence. Oh, he was going to get her when this nonsense was over.

  Adnan dismissed them, and with a last parting smile to Teia and Sendaar, Penli gratefully took his leave. He yawned as he threaded through the halls, and then smiled faintly.

  In his room, he stripped to just his breeches and shirt and settled in the window. He was somewhat surprised he had no company waiting, and only mildly disappointed.

  Sighing, Penli hauled to his feet again. As tired as he was, he was still too keyed up to sleep. Going into his bedchamber, he changed into training clothes and grabbed his longbow and arrow.

  When he reached the training yard, though, someone else was already there—Omar, the bloodgiver from the altercation a few days ago.

  Omar paused as he finish a grueling series of forms and moves with his quarterstaff. "Can't sleep either, my lord?"

  "Alas, no, though you'd think sleeping would be
easy after all that dancing and talking. What keeps you awake?"

  "Not enough to do, too much to think about," Omar replied with a crooked smile, wiping sweat from his face with a nearby towel. Instead of returning to the center of his practice ring, though, he lingered. "I admire you taking up the challenge, my lord. I'm not acquainted with Lord Teia, but Sendaar and I trained in the same class." That smile again, as he idly spun his quarterstaff. "We also come from the same type of lowly background. I was always happy for him that he got such a prestigious and interesting sworn."

  Penli quirked a brow and finally walked over to join him. "I gather your own sworn was not so interesting?"

  Omar lightly rapped the staff on the ground, and laughed briefly. "It is always an honor to serve, and I was trusted with some important persons. But it's also true that I protected one old man until illness claimed him, then another old man until age claimed him, and protecting old men who seldom leave their houses is not the height of interesting. Now I am waiting to see what comes next. I am sorry for the altercation the other day. If there'd been any way to convince his lordship that trying to replace Sendaar with me was foolish and a waste of time, I would have."

  Penli waved the words away. "No apologies are necessary. It was perfectly clear that nobody was pleased with the idea save Tishasanti. I hope you are given a sworn worthy of your skill and devotion."

  "Thank you, my lord. I look forward to your victory in the challenge, and leave you now to your practice."

  Bowing his head in thanks, Penli finally went to the end of the yard where archery targets were arranged—simple basic targets, and more complicated ones at odd heights and angles. He strung his bow and practiced until his body ached and he could barely keep his eyes open.

  Dragging himself back to his room, he took a hasty bath with the pitcher and bowl near his bed, dried off, and climbed into bed naked. Thankfully, sleep came easily.

  Chapter Five

  The third test was a test of endurance, and Penli had a sinking feeling he was going to lose it. He was good at many things, but his skills had been carved with snow and ice and towering mountains. Extreme heat was his nemesis.