A Royal Affair (33 page)

We were alone. Less than auspicious accommodation, I knew, but we had known worse. I went first to Xavier and saw a slight pout on Aleksey’s lips but told him that Xavier was my first love and he, the king, would always be second in my heart. He told me in that case I should take my pleasure with Xavier, for I was not going to get it from him. I had him around the waist by now and pinned against the bulkhead. I demonstrated then why I preferred his body to all others. He would not let me take him as I had the night before; I’d noticed he had not sat at breakfast. But he let me take him in my mouth, kneeling to him in the rough straw, and I was lost once more to the very great privilege of loving another man.

When I was done, a second breakfast, we swapped places. This was novel, for he had not knelt to me like this before, and I held his head just so, teasing him with pressure, easing him on and off, showing him how I liked to be taken. It was very entertaining, and we laughed a great deal, given the movement of the ship, the sudden lurch that yanked him off, his recapturing of his prize—even the occasional time when he forgot and seized me with his teeth for grip. He was a very enthusiastic student, as ever, and when I shot, I did not pull him away. It was his first time for that as well. I covered myself and pulled him to his feet. I did not think I had ever seen his eyes so green. Perhaps it was the lack of that sweet color all around us. His eyes sparkled like emeralds. I kissed each in turn, and then we had to take our leave. We both needed the fresh air.

W
E
PASSED
the remainder of that week of sailing with the old king safely in his state coffin and the new king safely in my arms—whenever I could contrive an excuse to get him on his own. Now that I had recovered from my short, sudden delirium, I was returned to my own quarters, and the royal servant of the royal damn bedchamber returned to his. I suggested to Aleksey that he appoint me servant to the royal bedchamber, and then all our problems would be solved, but he pointed out that, in that case, I would have to spend all my days in the royal laundry washing the royal sheets and not be able to see him or speak to him at all in daylight. It almost seemed a good trade-off to me, but then I was a man in my prime and roused greatly by our new intimacy, which I wished to partake of as frequently as I could. Seeing him and wanting to take his body obsessed me, as he knew. It was a very interesting week, all told, more interesting than I had anticipated when I promised Aleksey that I would accompany him.

We arrived back in Hesse-Davia a few days before the Christmas festivities were due to commence, which had been curtailed somewhat, given the sad events in Saxefalia. I got the impression that hastily erected decorations for this and for celebration of the war had been converted to those more suiting a funeral. It was acceptable. Aleksey didn’t mind. He knew that most poor people only wanted an excuse to forget the misery of their lives for a day, and whether funeral, war celebration, Christmas, or coronation, it mattered not to them.

We were all in chaos for the first few days. Even the simplest things had to be decided. Where would the new king sleep? He utterly refused to sleep in his dead father’s bed—and I did not blame him—or reside in the overdecorated rooms, which, again, seemed a very normal reaction to me. But it threw the court into complete turmoil. He could not, apparently, sleep in his old rooms with his books and all his childhood things, as that would not be appropriate. I suspected Aleksey was so sick at hearing what was and was not appropriate that he would have liked to throw some of his counselors off the battlements. I’d have helped with the lifting.

A few days after we returned to the castle, I was summoned to the throne room, the vast hall where the king of Hesse-Davia held open court and heard petitions. I had not been in this part of the castle before, having had no excuse when the old king had ruled, and was suitably impressed by the banners and armor and old weapons mounted on every available bit of wall space. The vast oaken doors were opened for me, and I went in. I had to walk the gauntlet of the court: up to two hundred people, all dressed richly and in little groups, conducting their “important” business. I ignored some of the stares and made my way toward the top of the room, near the raised dais where I could see King Christian. Before I could emerge into the open space around the throne, I felt a hand on my arm and turned to find Colonel Johan smiling at me. This was very odd. Whatever he thought about me, he never thought it with a smile unless it was one at my expense. But I was delighted to see him, and we actually hugged for a moment.

I pulled him off to one side of the room. “What is happening? How did you get here?”

“I flew.”

I was slow on the uptake, so he added, rolling his eyes, “Saxefalia also had a navy, Doctor. The rest of us trailed in the royal wake.”

“But why are you here? Do you know what this is about?”

He shook his head. “How is Aleksey?”

I shrugged, and that said it all. He knew Aleksey as well as I, if in different ways, and we both knew his volatility. He was staring at him over the heads of the mob. “I suppose I should thank you—”

He did not get a chance to finish, for he was swept off his feet by a huge bear, hugging and shouting something in his ear. I turned the bear into Gregory in my mind, and all was well. Pia was standing behind him. She smiled shyly at me, and I took her hand. “It is good to see you both. Why are you here?”

We were all mystified. We had all received summons. Our little group was then accosted by the annoying one, Stephen, whom I had not seen since he had been strutting around with a lance and tripping over his own feet. I swung him up and kissed him, which made him furious, as he was now a very serious young man of ten, far too old, he informed me, to be treated like a baby. I asked him why he then still looked like a baby, and we argued pleasantly about this just as Aleksey had with Gregory’s little boy all those months ago. Finally order was called for by the blowing of bugles, and the king proceeded to hold court. He heard many petitions and made many decisions, none of which we could hear, as the noise and babble in the room were still considerable. Then with another blast of the damn instrument, Colonel Johan was called to the dais. He went with a glance to me.

He looked the very epitome of soldiery as he marched smartly through the throng. It’s not easy to march up steps with a sword and keep the pace, but he managed as if he’d rehearsed this moment his whole life. Perhaps he had. Perhaps that is what he’d meant when he told me that Aleksey was special. From the first moment of Aleksey’s life, they had enjoyed a delicate balance of care and love, obedience and respect, that had led to this moment. Johan knelt in front of a figure so regal and aloof that it barely resembled the young prince I knew—until there was a smile, a hand on a shoulder, and the awe-inspiring figure was Aleksey once more. He bade Johan rise and embraced him briefly before gesturing to an aide to hand him a box.

I could hear nothing of what was being said, but Johan’s face told its own story—as far as he was concerned, the box held recognition of the loving bond between them that even the great power of majesty could not break.

When he returned to his place in the crowd with us, Stephen, of course, had to know what was in the box. After a little teasing, pretending its occupant might bite him if the lid were opened, Johan showed us his prize.

He had been presented with the Order of Saint George, the highest award for bravery in Hesse-Davia, as Gregory informed us in an undertone—only three recipients had won this medal since its institution four hundred years previous. Johan brushed off our congratulations and commented wryly that he ought to sell it—that it might pay for the new uniform he would have to purchase. Aleksey had promoted him to general and made him head of the army.

I grinned as I saw the pride hidden behind the gruff pretense on the scarred face. Hesse-Davia’s army was in very good hands.

Next, to our very great astonishment, the king called for Gregory. He had assumed that he, like I, was there to see Johan’s honoring, but not so. He was appointed as minister for works, something that sounded so vague I reckoned Gregory could pretty much decide for himself what he had command over, and suddenly understood that this was exactly as Aleksey intended. Gregory could take the care he gave his perfect village and extend this over the whole of Hesse-Davia. I hoped Pia didn’t have any immediate plans for him. I had the feeling he was going to be busy.

We were congratulating Johan and Gregory when Stephen’s name was called. I whispered to him that he was going to be made the royal page and that he’d better straighten his jacket. He did, no joking around now. I think he wished he were only nine still and not quite so grown up. He went to the dais and on slightly unsteady legs knelt before King Christian. Aleksey stood and waved to the bugler that he wanted complete silence in the room.

When the only sound left was the scrape of shoes on the stone flags as the courtiers shifted to get better views, Aleksey announced, “I, Christian, King of Hesse-Davia and Saxefalia, do pronounce you, Stephen, to be a right and proper son of Peter of the Mountberg line. I bestow upon you all rights according to your bloodline, all properties and inheritances, according to the law.”

Everyone, me included, had been holding breath to hear Aleksey’s words, and there was a universal exhale and then light laughter. Suddenly there was a ripple of applause, and Gregory murmured in my ear, “’Bout time too. Bastard, my arse.”

I nodded and began to make a low reply when Aleksey once more began to speak.

“In accordance, therefore, with the laws of God and man, I now pronounce you to be the legitimate and rightful heir to the throne of Hesse-Davia and Saxefalia and bestow upon you all rights appertaining to you,
Prince
Stephen Eric Peter Mountberg.”

This caused a great deal more of a stir. I heard some uneasy whispering, but mostly there was solid approval for this startling move. Aleksey had not breathed one word of this to me, and I could see from Gregory and Johan’s faces that they had been as kept in the dark as I.

I felt uneasy for some reason. I was delighted for Stephen and thought it was an excellent move in theory. Aleksey had apparently taken to heart the lesson from the suspected poisoning of the old king—choose an heir who preferred you alive to dead. But this ascension of Stephen’s wasn’t a rise to fill an empty place—moving into an empty chair at dinner. Aleksey already had an heir—Harold.

Aleksey had just displaced his uncle from the line of succession.

Stephen was speaking. I heard him squeak, “I am willing,” and had to smile at the incongruity of his tone with the solemnity of his intent.

Prince
Stephen returned to his place with us, and he said nothing more that I heard for the rest of the day. That was quite novel.

We were all in a very pleasant mood and waiting eagerly to be dismissed for luncheon, when the bugle sounded again, and the herald called my name. I had been slightly dreading this. I suspected Aleksey might make my role as surgeon to the army more official by actually appointing me surgeon general, or that he might appoint me to the court as the royal physician. I wasn’t too sure what I felt about either of these titles and had wondered whether to tell him to leave me as I was. However, he had called me, and I had to go. I strode out to the front and mounted the dais.

He looked completely magnificent, every inch a king, in beautiful clothes that I wished to rip off him very roughly. So I knelt once more to him. If he found this amusing, no one would have known from his expression. He looked very serious as he pulled out his sword.

I had never realized how significant this ritual was before—a man bowing his head meekly to another who stands over him so armed. My neck twitched a little as a cool draft blew over it. Perhaps it was the brush of ghosts of the many men I had relieved of their heads, their necks bared to my sword in the act this ritual was mimicking.

The blade was light upon one shoulder. I felt the air stir as it moved to the other.

“Arise,
Sir
Nikolai Hartmann.”

I took my knighthood with surprising equanimity until I saw the look of pure, unadulterated love in his eyes as I stood facing him. It took all my strength then to keep my grin inside. I did it for him, for my
king
.

He appeared to be waiting to be quite sure I was going to behave myself—the last time we had stood this close, about three hours earlier, he had been holding my cock, and I was most definitely
not
behaving, and I knew he was recalling this too.

All his talent for theatrics appeared to pay off, for I doubt there was another person in that audience who understood any of what then followed, except for the obvious they were meant to comprehend.

“I, Christian, appoint you, Nikolai, Chief Minister of Hesse-Davia and Saxefalia, with all accordant rights. Do you solemnly swear to govern the Peoples according to their laws and customs?”

Chief Minister? It didn’t seem the time to ask for clarification. “I do so swear.” Could they not hear the thump, thump of my heart?

“Will you give good counsel and support?”

It was what I’d dreamed of doing for Aleksey since first we met. “I will.”

“Do you promise to be faithful to me alone?”

I heard my reply steady and strong, although Aleksey had begun to blur slightly. “I will be faithful to you alone.”

At that, he quirked his lip and nodded. It appeared I was dismissed.

I walked backward to the steps and then turned smartly to regain my place with my friends. They gave me congratulations due a man who now outranked every member of the council. I outranked everyone in the kingdom other than the immediate royal family. I even outranked the court nobility.

It was all as nothing to me.

I had just promised in front of the entire court to be Aleksey’s for life.

Aleksey had made these appointments without consulting anyone. He was flexing his muscles.