Damian Lestoff exhaled and gripped Nikolai’s hair as the Prince of Rastan took him into his mouth. They were leaving in the morning and Lefty had dodged Nicky’s sister to make this rendezvous occur.

He’d enjoyed Rila during this visit and he knew the royals saw him as little more than a shared toy, but he’d play back.

“Gods, Nicky, that’s good,” he mumbled before letting out a groan, pulling away and finishing with a grunt. He fell back against the bed.

“Couldn’t let you leave without having some fun,” Nicky laughed sliding up and kissing him.

“I’ve had plenty of fun,” Lefty smirked. “Your sister is very accommodating.” Nicky huffed.

“Please don’t talk about my sister while I’m holding my cock,” he said, “you could stay.”

“Eric has orders,” Lefty shrugged. “He’s supposed to marry Annalise.”

“Mm,” Nicky kissed him and pulled close, “then he and Raniere will both be kings and can sit around all their lives comparing their crowns.” Lefty laughed and kissed him and wrapped a hand around his cock and began stroking. “Unh,” Nikolai exhaled.

“What’s your stable boy going to say about tonight? Hm?” Lefty teased.

“Ash isn’t,” Nikolai grunted, “a servant. He’s the best damn breeder and racer in Rastan.”

“As you say, Your Highness,” Lefty laughed and kissed him. “But you didn’t want him tonight? He could have joined us.”

“I don’t want to share you,” Nikolai growled. That was bullshit. Lefty had felt it while his lover tossed him to his sister. Nikolai got off on the idea that Lefty was desired by others in his orbit but would always come back to him. “I want to be in you, Damian.”

It had been a mistake to invite Nicky to call him by his first name. It was too intimate, it made him melt. He rolled over, rose up on his knees and Nikolai came behind him and kissed his neck.

They’d arrived in Cammadan, in Dovetail. Navigating the river into the dug out lakeside port had at least been a challenge but Lefty already felt like the city was cutting off his air. He needed to see the south sea, breathe it in, and bathe in it.

“Dress uniform,” Eric said walking into his cabin. Lefty raised an eyebrow at him.

“For you and Raymond, certainly,” he shrugged. “I’ll stay here.”

“Lefty,” Eric met his eyes. “Please, I need you for this. I have no idea what I’m doing.” Lefty smirked.

“Are you asking for help, wooing, little brother?” He sat up.

“No,” Eric said flatly. “I’m asking you to put on the damn uniform and stand next to me.”

“The secret,” Lefty grinned, “is to listen. Pay attention, make her feel as if she’s the only woman in the world. That you would die for her.”

“Annalise is a queen not a tavern wench,” Eric said with a sigh, “and she needs a husband not an orgasm.”

“Dunno,” Lefty said with a shrug, “thinking how frustrated Elana gets and how frosty your other brother is, she might need both.” Eric stared at him placidly.

“Are you done?” Eric raised an eyebrow. Lefty shrugged and stood up. “Don’t disrespect Elana that way, first of all, and second of all, if you really plan to seduce the Dugarry girl, you’d at least better try to look your best.” Lefty laughed and Eric turned to leave.

“Eric,” he said and his brother stopped. “It’s going to be fine.” Eric smiled softly, and nodded.

Lefty dressed and came above board quickly. He looked to the dock and saw her a froze. A daughter of Tumona, undeniably, her dark curly hair pulled off her face in a knot, dressed in a simple blue gown, standing beside a handsome white man with red hair who’d made her laugh.

That must be her. Eric’s queen. And Lefty wanted her, more damned him.

He’d never been happier to be wrong. Not that it changed much. No matter how much he wanted Duchess Marina SanPierre he couldn’t have her. But at least he wouldn’t have to watch her with his brother, wed him, bear his children.

At the ball that night he watched her, twinkling and flirting, her white gold gown revealing her neck and shoulders. Goddess, he wanted to kiss that neck, strip the gown off her and run his hands over her body and make her coo and sigh, melt into him and beg.

Two guards watched her every move, Dugarry, with some kind of leery protectiveness, and another, dark haired and soft looking with a sort of pained longing. She’d argued with him earlier, on the balcony and it had been subtle but he’d noticed.

He’d managed some conversation, perhaps even to flirt, but when her bright brown eyes fixed on him, in a sort of confusion he felt himself shrink. Her confusion was kinder than disgust, but she surely knew who he was and considered him well beneath her notice. Even if she weren’t the single most beautiful woman he’d ever lain eyes on, she was a duchess. He was the spawn of a ferryman and a whore.

After the ball he made his way back to the apartment where they’d put him, Eric and Raymond. Raymond was sitting on the balcony his feet kicked up.

“So,” Lefty leaned against the door, “what do we think?” Raymond looked at him sardonically, resembling his sister more than made Lefty comfortable.

“The queen is hiding something,” Raymond said. Lefty nodded, he’d gotten that sense too. Annalise had been friendly, but was clearly keeping Eric at arm’s length. Raymond eyed him. “The Duchess was involved with one of the guards but it apparently has ended.”

“Tristan Dugarry?” Lefty tried. Raymond shook his head.

“The name being gossiped about was Santino,” Raymond shrugged, “Dugarry is with the queen, apparently.” That was a complication.

“Do you think that’s the secret?” Lefty said. “She has a lover?” Raymond shrugged again. “Eric won’t like that.”

“No,” Raymond agreed, “he won’t.” He looked down. “What else do you want to know about her?” Lefty grinned at his friend.

“What else were you able to find out?” He asked. He wanted to know everything about her.

He’d made her laugh, when he’d asked to kiss her, she hadn’t said no, he watched her, something was happening with Dugarry, but he wasn’t sure what, and now, she was asking to dance with him, and flirting and gods, he wanted her so badly.

“Were I to compare the light I’ve seen in your eyes to the stars,” he whispered seductively, “the stars would be found woefully in adequate,” Marina swallowed and met his eyes. He wasn’t exaggerating, she was so bright, so stunning, he lips curved up into a smile, and she burst into a laugh. He blushed.

“And this works with most girls?” She said incredulously. He smirked.

“Yes,” he admitted, “but as I said, I’ve never been with a politician.” She paused then and leaned close. Too close, so close. Rana save him, let him have this, even if it was only this, as she kissed him. “Well then, perhaps I should stick to the stars,” he managed to mutter when they parted. She giggled again and kissed him again. He gathered her into his arms. It was enough, this moment, it would be enough, he swore.

She could never be his. He knew this. But he could have this moment with her, innocent, perfect.

She’d been standing on the dock like one of the Glora and he’d brought her on board, below decks, to his cabin.

“Have you had a lot of girls here?” She asked. Her voice light and teasing. But something was wrong, her eyes were heavy, the light sharp.

“Here,” he said, “you’d be the first.” She smiled and settled on the bed. “You seem preoccupied.”

“Distract me then,” Marina said. A challenge. He crawled on top of her and kissed her deeply.

“I’m in deeper trouble with you than I’ve ever been in my life,” he admitted.

“I’ve known this kind of trouble before,” she whispered back. “It’s the other thing for me.” They kissed again hard. “Be patient with me?”

“Forever,” he cooed. She nodded and they kissed more, hard, fevered, “Marina,” he said as he slid his hands over her thighs. The heat between them rose, unbearable, but also impossible to resist.

“Love me, please,” she whimpered. They kept kissing. “Love me, touch me, I need you.” It was too much.

“I do love you,” he whispered, “forever, I need you, love you.” It was a vow, he realized. There was no one and nothing else, just Marina.

“How tedious,” Brayton Dovetail smirked pushing him aside. Damian felt himself choking as the shadow consumed him. A laugh, distant, female, soft, and then sharp, like a needle.

“Who do you think you are Damian Lestoff?” The Dark Lady appeared before him. “To stand in the way of those that I ordained be together.” He gasped.

“I love her,” he whispered. “She chose,” Amina laughed.

“You can do nothing for her,” she said, “even now, she dreams of leaving you for another of mine.” He swallowed. “You cannot protect her from her destiny.” He fell back and light bloomed in front of him.

“Don’t let go of my hand, Dami,” his mother’s voice said. “Don’t you dare.”

He jolted awake and Marina was sitting beside him and wiped his forehead.

“Hello my love,” he whispered. She smiled softly. Already she dreams of another one of mine, he wanted to hold her close, to shelter her. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t hold her back, even if it destroyed him.

Marina was lounging, naked in the apartment in Rastan. He looked at her as he rose to get dressed. His relief these past few weeks at being near her again was starting to subside and he was starting to notice her. How she’d changed and how she hadn’t. She’d grown more beautiful, her body softening into irresistible curves and the light in her eyes playful and sharp. Her shyness was almost completely gone, though he watched her deploy it strategically with Rastani courtiers, and even with the royal family. When he’d first fallen in love with her he’d seen that side of her, political, intelligent, cunning. And yet it was still tempered by her unending kindness, that light of compassion that lit everything she did.

“You don’t have to go yet,” Marina whispered. He looked at her and smiled.

“You have to get ready,” he said sadly. “Raniere is waiting.” She sighed and played with the cover.

“You’re upset about it,” she said. “That I like him.” He sighed and sat with her.

“I never expected you to not like him,” he said, “I don’t like this. You’re not safe. I hate that Brayton is always watching you, that you ever have to see him, and I hate how he looks at you.” Her smiled curled, cat like, a little devious.

“And how does he look at me?” She asked.

“Like he wants you,” Lefty sighed. “Which he does.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t bother you.”

“Most men want me,” she said, “I’m used to it.” It wasn’t arrogance, he realized or even confidence, just fact. “They look at me, and they want my body, my beauty, my magic, my position,” he sat down and pushed her hair off her face. “Even you, my love.”

“Of course I want you,” he said, “I’ve wanted almost nothing else since I saw you for the first time.” She smiled. “It isn’t the same, I love you.”

“What if I told you I’d never lift a finger to help Pharras?” She said softly, “or my power threatened Kat? Or I’d been a good little girl and married Kieran Franz to ease the way for Annalise and Eric?” He drew back. “You wouldn’t love me then, but I bet you’d still want me.”

“I’d still love you,” he whispered. “That’s never changing, Rina, you could never do anything to make me stop loving you.” She kissed him again and pulled him close. “Marina,” he groaned. “Raniere will be waiting, Brayton,” she kissed him deeply.

“Let him wait,” she mumbled, “let Brayton tear his hair out trying to figure out where I am. I’m with you, this is us, nothing can touch us.”

He stared dumbfounded at the spot in the ice garden. Gone, simply gone, as if they hadn’t been here at all. He’d been so close, he should have struck, should have killed them, should have saved her.

She’ll never be safe with you, a voice in his mind, the one that had haunted for years, who are you to protect her? If you’d let her be she’d have been safe, her queen, her witch, they would have protected her.

“Lefty,” Eric was calling through his stupor, “Lefty,” he turned to his brother, “come on, we have to make decisions.” He stared straight at him.

“You do whatever you must,” he marched past him to his room and began packing. Carolina tried to calm him down, it didn’t work, but he heaved his sack onto his shoulders. He would prepare the ship, let the rest of them dither. Nika and Annalise would know what to do, he had to keep her safe, it was all he could do.

“Where is she?” Raniere’s voice was sharp, as he blocked him in the hallway. Lefty sneered at the king. “She did not simply disappear.”

“She did actually,” Lefty bit back. “With your advisor, in fact.” He laughed darkly. “Are you so blind, Your Majesty?” Raniere blinked at him.

“She wouldn’t,” he said, “he wouldn’t. I trust Braga with my life, and Marina.” Lefty barked out a laugh.

“You’re a bigger fool than I thought,” he muttered, “Brayton Dovetail has been spilling poison in your ear, and now he’s taken her.” Raniere stared at him.

“I have tolerated your presence in my home, and the disruption of it,” Raniere said, “because of my brother and sister’s fondness for you, but I will not tolerate,” Lefty stepped closer.

“Tolerate it or not, Your majesty,” he hissed, “I am going to find the woman I love and bring her home.”

“The woman you love,” Raniere said. Lefty glared at him.

“You’re blind, Raniere, and I will not waste a minute I could be helping her forcing you to see,” he shouted. “He tricked you, and lured her here with an offer she could not refuse for the sake of her home.” Raniere glared at him. The fight continued, but he wasn’t speaking rationally, he needed to get to her.

He sat by her bedside as she thrashed and screamed. He wanted to touch her, hold her comfort her.

“If she comes back from this,” Nika said gently appearing in the door, “it will be because you’re here.” He looked at her.

“I tried a million times these past four years to hate you,” he whispered. She smiled. “But from her letters she seemed so happy.” She exhaled.

“She wasn’t,” Nika whispered. “She ached for you every minute. She tried to hide it, I tried to ignore it.” She looked at her. “She loved me as much as she could, but her heart ceased being her own a long time ago.” He exhaled. “She won’t ever give Tristan up.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“I couldn’t accept it,” Nika said, “you were different, but him.” She looked down. “I don’t know, it seems silly right now.” He inhaled. “What will you do about the child?” He pressed his hands together and leaned his face into them.

“When my mother died,” he whispered, “and my father married Aimee, I became hers, because she loved my father and so she loved me.” Nika nodded. “I love Marina, the child will be hers, so I will love the child.” It was that simple.