19. Benjin

nineteen

Benjin

Benjin propped his chin on his folded arms and stared at the parcel that Percival had packed for the Grand Magus. Whatever lay inside had been masked from prying eyes. The only way to learn more would be to open it.

While he knew he should leave well enough alone, part of him was sorely tempted to check out its contents.

Anything to take my mind off that terrible dinner.

The food somehow managed to be both too bland and overly styled for his tastes. He'd never felt as awkward as he had crammed in there with Marshal Fendrel on one side and those Order paladins on the other. And Haldric…

A flush crept up his neck while his fingers squeezed the edge of the table. Well, the Void-cursed prince was free to do whatever he liked, wasn't he? It's not as if it was any of Benjin's business. He was a glorified courier and bodyguard on this mission—nothing more.

His fingers twitched. Would a little peek be so bad? Percival had warned him off, but it wasn't as if the Grand Magus had specifically told him not to look.

He reached for the parcel, his pulse quickening as he tugged it close and began to carefully unwrap it. He hadn't sensed any wards on it but was still relieved when no explosions boomed or alarms sounded. Within the parcel was a small, thin case of the sort Benjin had seen used to protect important documents at court.

Last chance to realize what a terrible idea this is.

Benjin pictured Haldric's bright green eyes and laughing face, then Katalin's hand on Haldric's leg. His grip around the case tightened.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered.

With a faint tingling of premonition, he opened the case.

Most of the package contained several stacks of papers along with a small journal. Nestled with the papers, however, he found a small glass sphere. It appeared similar to the dawnflame focuser Percival had shown him in his lab, pulsing with a dim golden glow.

Some sort of dawnflame enchantment? Benjin guessed, though he hadn't a clue what it might entail or why Percival would be sending it to Dexil.

Setting the bauble aside, Benjin picked one of the journals at random and began perusing its contents. The more he read, the deeper his unease grew. While much of the magic discussed lay far beyond his own capabilities, he gleaned enough to understand the gist.

This was some manner of Compulsion, but on a scale Benjin had never heard of before. As best he could guess, the journals detailed how to perform a ritual to enact a powerful memory charm. Unlike a regular Compulsion, however, it incorporated dawnflame with the usual runeflame to dramatically bolster the effect, making it both longer lasting and harder to detect. Casting this on someone wouldn't just alter a single memory—it would effectively make them believe they were an entirely different person.

This isn't a spell at all—it's a curse. What does the Grand Magus want with this kind of magic?

Benjin jumped when a rapping noise sounded from his door. Hurriedly returning the parcel's contents, he stood and stared at the smooth wood.

Who in the name of the Goddess would be knocking at this late hour?

Sudden panic that something might've happened to the prince unfurled in him like a thorny rose. Rushing to the door, he yanked it open and blinked. "Haldric? What are you—?"

"May I please come in?" Haldric asked, his voice even more formal than usual.

Benjin studied the prince, his confusion growing as he took in Haldric's disheveled appearance. Despite his calm face and stiff posture, anxious energy seeped from him in waves. His clothes were rumpled, and his hair was a tangled mess, as if from running his fingers through it nonstop for hours.

Or from some other nighttime activity…

Benjin crossed his arms with a scowl. "Shouldn't you be with Lady Katalin?"

Though Haldric tried to hide it, Benjin caught his wince. "I was. But she…she wished to retire for the night, so I thought it best to do the same."

Benjin narrowed his eyes at Haldric's halfhearted lie. "Then, why are you here bothering me instead of in your own quarters?"

Haldric didn't reply, shifting from foot to foot. Coming from him, such a display of distress was akin to screaming at the top of his lungs.

At last, he said, "I…I wished to discuss your impressions of our potential allies."

Benjin raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "Since when have you ever cared about my opinion on anything?"

Haldric's lips pressed together in a thin line. "I've often sought your advice, and as the Grand Magus' apprentice, you're among the higher ranked members of this delegation. It never hurts to gain more perspectives. A wise ruler—"

Groaning, Benjin stepped back from the door. "Goddess' mercy, spare me more platitudes. If you're going to start spouting off about wise rulers, I need to sit down first."

Haldric didn't move, and a part of Benjin worried the prince might reconsider and retreat down the hall. But after a moment's hesitation, Benjin heard the door shut and footsteps follow behind him.

The prince settled into a chair near Benjin's. His gaze roamed the room, taking in everything except Benjin himself. It eventually settled on the parcel still sitting on the table. "Did your business for the Grand Magus go smoothly?"

"Yep."

Haldric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Good. That's…good. And your impressions of our hosts?"

Benjin shrugged. "They seem all right for nobles, though I'd watch out for Lady Galax if I were you. She seems the type to slip poison into your tea the instant it suits her. And Lady Katalin is…"

Benjin hesitated, uncertain how to finish that thought. Finally, he sighed and opted for the truth. "She's great. She'll make a worthy queen someday. And I think she'd…she'd be really good for you."

Haldric's entire body tensed, though Benjin couldn't understand why, especially when he replied in a pained voice, "I concur."

Neither of them said anything for a span of heartbeats. Benjin glanced longingly toward the door, half-considering fleeing his own chambers to escape this awkward encounter. The prince never did anything without a purpose. So, why in the name of the Goddess was he here?

"This alliance is critical for Ilthabard's survival," Haldric said eventually. "It's the only way to ensure our continued independence. I have to marry Katalin. For the good of the people."

Benjin chuckled. "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself as much as you are me. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No!" Haldric furrowed his brow, staring at his clasped fingers atop the table in front of him. "I mean…no. You're right—it's a good match."

Benjin leaned in, meeting Haldric's troubled gaze. "Then, why do you sound like it's the last thing in Allaria you want to do?" Something in his chest fluttered. "Why are you really here, Haldric?"

"I…" Haldric's throat bobbed as he swallowed. Breaking eye contact, he abruptly stood, pacing toward the door. For a moment, Benjin thought he would stride straight out of it, leaving as abruptly as he'd arrived.

Instead, he stopped and whirled to face Benjin. "You shouldn't have left the banquet so soon. It risked insulting Lord and Lady Galax."

Benjin slowly stood, his jaw flexing. "How I choose to spend my time is none of your business."

"It is when you're here as an official representative of Ilthabard. Any offense you give reflects poorly on the entire delegation, me included."

"Offense?" Benjin scoffed. "I hardly think my early departure risks derailing your marriage. And frankly, if it does, then it wasn't worth much to begin with."

"Any risk at this delicate stage is too much. Which is why you also shouldn't have interrupted my walk with Katalin this afternoon."

Benjin's brows shot up. Had the Void-cursed prince lost his mind? "I ran into you by accident! And if you recall, you were the only one who seemed bothered." He raised an eyebrow. "Why is that, anyway? Were you feeling threatened?"

Haldric's mask cracked, his cheeks reddening. "Don't be absurd! I'm simply pointing out your continued lack of decorum."

Benjin balled his hands into fists, his eyes blazing. "May I remind you, Your Highness, I'm not the one going around banging on people's doors in the middle of the night! If anyone's out of line here, it's you. Why, I might almost think you're stalking me."

To Benjin's utter astonishment, Haldric went rigid, his hands bursting alight with conjured runeflame. The azure flames danced across his fingertips, leaving streaks of silver in their wake.

"I've allowed you to berate and belittle me for far too long! I am your prince, and you will show me the proper respect deserving of my station!"

Goddess' mercy, he's serious. Benjin refused to retreat despite his flaring nerves. Though he didn't raise his hands, he brought his own runeflame to the surface, ready to cast at a moment's notice. The thought of hurling the insane prince across the room with a blast of force was altogether too tempting.

"Oh, I'm showing you exactly as much respect as you deserve," Benjin sneered. "Or are you going to try to force me?"

Haldric stepped in closer, barely a hand's breadth now separating them. Magic crackled between them, filling the room with a static charge. Fleetingly, Benjin wondered what would happen if the servants arrived in the morning and found they'd both blasted themselves to smithereens.

A shudder raced down Haldric's back. His upraised hands trembled, crackling with runeflame, while his green eyes widened with barely restrained emotion. Then, he surged forward…and pressed his lips to Benjin's.

Shock reverberated through Benjin, headier than any magic. The prince is kissing me . His brain felt disconnected from his body, unable to process what was happening. Seconds drifted by and he just stood there, still as a statue, barely even remembering to breathe.

Then, he snapped back to himself. Wrapping his arms around Haldric's broad shoulders, he returned the kiss, marveling at the firm muscles that, until now, he'd only ever admired from afar.

Haldric's tongue flicked at his mouth, and Benjin let it in with a groan, running his hands down Haldric's back and yanking Haldric flush against him. He could tell at once that Haldric shared his own excitement, the exquisite pressure sending searing heat through him.

By the time they parted, panting for breath, they'd both long since lost their grip on their runeflame. They stared at each other, neither of them moving to separate. Benjin's hands lightly grazed over Haldric's back and sides while Haldric linked his arms behind Benjin as if desperate to keep him close.

Some small part of Benjin maintained the capacity for reason, and it compelled him to speak. "We…we shouldn't have done that. Lady Katalin—"

Haldric buried his face in Benjin's neck, nipping at the soft skin there. All rational thought fled from Benjin as he writhed in Haldric's grip, moaning as Haldric kissed a line up his jaw.

"No more talk of politics or responsibilities," Haldric murmured, pausing to nibble on Benjin's ear lobe. "I can't stand another second of it."

"But your alliance—"

"Void take the alliance!" Haldric bucked his hips, grinding against Benjin, who let out another groan. "For two years, I've done all that was asked of me. But here, now, this is what I want. What I need. I need you, Benjin. I think I have for a while now, even if I've been too stubborn to admit it."

The words stirred something in Benjin, kindling a hope he hadn't even realized lurked there. By the Goddess, when did I start to think of Haldric as more than a stuck-up noble?

"I need you, too," he said, proving the veracity of his words by claiming Haldric's mouth in another heart-stopping kiss.

Benjin wasn't certain which of them began undressing the other first, but it was definitely him who grew weary of buttons and resorted to magic. Soon, glowing tendrils of runeflame leaped from both their palms, ripping open garments and hurling them across the room.

If Benjin had thought his skin on fire before, now he positively blazed, a wild inferno stoked far past the point of no return. Slick flesh met slick flesh as they slid together onto Benjin's bed, Haldric's firm hands gentle as he guided Benjin down.

"Have you—?" Haldric asked hesitantly.

Benjin nodded. "You?"

"Yes." Haldric chewed on his bottom lip as his smoldering gaze raked over Benjin's bare chest. "But I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you."

A blush colored Benjin's face. He reached up, brushing a hand over the coarse bristles on Haldric's cheek. "I'm sure you say that to all the boys," he teased. "Unless it was my winning personality that drew your eye? Or was it my propensity for always being right?"

Haldric huffed a soft laugh and shook his head, swishing his long hair. His fingers traced down Benjin's arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "By the Goddess, no one can push my buttons quite like you can."

Grinning wickedly, Benjin bucked his hips, delighting in the way Haldric shivered and pressed against him in response. Both of them glistened with sweat.

"Like that?" Benjin asked with feigned innocence.

Haldric seized Benjin's lips, kissing him as if it were their last night on Allaria. As if this were the only chance he'd ever get. With a sinking sensation in his gut, Benjin realized it very well might be.

Well, then that just means I need to make the most of it.

Returning the kiss with renewed vigor, Benjin dragged his hand down Haldric's chest, tweaking his nipple before brushing it through the soft hair of Haldric's happy trail. He brought his hand lower still, and Haldric moaned softly against his lips, his body shuddering as he began to rock back and forth in Benjin's grip.

His brilliant green eyes seemed to drink Benjin in, wide with desperate desire. "You're beautiful," he murmured.

Benjin flushed, looking away. No one had ever said that to him before. No one had ever looked at him the way Haldric was right now. No one had ever made him feel so wanted, so needed. Like he was more than some pathetic lowborn who'd dared to rise above his station. Like he mattered .

Gazing at the writhing prince splayed out above him, something stirred in Benjin's chest—something he didn't quite dare name. Instead, he focused on stroking Haldric, losing himself in the press of lips and skin and heat.

When the prince finally arched atop him, his honed abs clenching on a long moan, Benjin wasn't far behind. A pleasurable shudder ripped through him, and he collapsed atop the tousled sheets while the prince held him and pressed kisses against his sweat-slicked neck. As his eyes drifted closed, Haldric whispering sweet nothings into his ear, Benjin couldn't recall ever feeling more at peace.