Chapter 8

The day after Vanya survived yet another attempted assassination, Soren woke with the dawn in his room at the Ashionen embassy at the center of the city. The embassy hadn't been opened in quite some time, as the advance team of diplomatic aides and royal servants had discovered while the rest of them were at the Imperial estate. The room Soren had been given when they finally arrived was far more comfortable than the barracks on the Warden's Island, aired out or otherwise.

Still, the bed had felt empty after having Vanya within reach yesterday, and Soren didn't think anyone would blame him for wanting to return to the Imperial estate. The Royal Guards who had flown with them to Solaria didn't seem keen on him leaving alone, but Soren was adamant about going without an escort.

The lieutenant who blocked his velocycle didn't know a word of Solarian, but Soren could still see her stubbornness. She pointed insistently at the black motor carriage with the Ashionen flag painted on its side, clearly wanting him to be driven in that rather than drive himself.

Soren very deliberately started the engine on his velocycle and pointed at the closed gate. "Open it."

He spoke in the trade tongue, hoping she understood him. Judging by the way she planted her fists on her hips, she probably hadn't.

"What is going on?" Dariush asked brusquely from the porch, speaking in Solarian, which was a relief to Soren.

"I'm leaving for the Imperial estate," Soren said in the same language, not looking away from the lieutenant. "She's in my way. Tell her to move and for the others to open the gate."

"It's early, Your Royal Highness."

"The Solarians will let me in."

The sun might barely be above the horizon, but he knew the Imperial estate would be bustling with people already. Raiah always woke early during the summer months, intent on packing so many activities into the hours of the day, to say nothing of Vanya's schedule. Soren only wanted to get there before Vanya was tied up in government work. He wanted to know that Vanya was all right after everything that had happened. Soren had wanted so badly to stay yesterday, but he knew he hadn't the right to.

Soren turned his head to look at Dariush, seeing the ambassador wasn't dressed for the day yet and had merely thrown on a dressing gown before stepping outside in his house slippers to address what was going on in the forecourt. He squinted against the bright morning sunlight, the day warm already, a precursor for the humid heat that would arrive before noon. After a moment, Dariush said something in Ashionen, his tone firm, which left the lieutenant looking displeased when she snapped something back.

"I presume the Royal Guard will not be able to follow where you go within the Imperial estate?" Dariush finally said to Soren, switching to Solarian.

"There is a reception room they would be confined to. Aside from that, I know this city better than they do. If they try to follow me, I'll lose them in the streets," Soren warned.

"No need to make their jobs more difficult. I've asked them to remain, but please do let us know if you will return tonight or not. The queen made it clear that you are leading the delegation this time, but we want to make sure you are safe while doing so."

"I'll ring you."

With that decided, Soren kicked up the stand and revved the engine, not caring if he woke up anyone sleeping inside the embassy. The lieutenant stepped out of his way, a pinched expression on her face. Soren left them all behind in favor of the Solarian streets.

The coastal city came alive as the sun crept into the sky, salt lingering in the early morning breeze. It was a nice ride, truth be told, but not nice enough to settle his nerves. By the time Soren pulled up in front of the closed gates of the Imperial estate, the tightness in his gut had gotten worse. For all his words to the Ashionens, he wasn't sure if Vanya would want to see him after yesterday.

But the praetoria legionnaires standing guard at the gold-painted gates still opened the way for him. Letting out a soft breath, Soren drove into the forecourt and parked his velocycle beneath one of the trees lining the arcade. He'd left the embassy only carrying his weapons and travel antidote kit, the leather bag slung over one shoulder and banging against his hip as he walked. He wasn't sure if Vanya would need it, but Soren wasn't taking any chances.

Caelum met him at the entrance into the estate, the Chief Minister dressed for the day in his robes of office and eyeing Soren with an unreadable expression. "It is early."

Soren gestured vaguely at his kit. "I know your magician saw to Vanya yesterday. I brought my kit in case he needed further attending to."

"His Imperial Majesty is in the bathhouse at the moment, on orders from Intira. He is not expecting you."

"May I see him?"

He had no right to ask, not after he'd finally given up the vow, but Soren asked anyway. Standing there in the shadow of the porch, in a world he had no right to walk through anymore, all Soren could hope was that Caelum would let him pass.

After a moment, Caelum inclined his head and stepped aside, gesturing at the open door. "I assume you know the way?"

Soren had lived in Oeiras for weeks at a time in the past, back when he'd gone to where Vanya was after his duty to the borders was done. "I do."

"Then I'll inform the servants to add another place setting to the morning meal in the private courtyard."

Soren wasn't sure if that was a wise assumption, but he wasn't going to question it. He passed Caelum and entered the Imperial estate, his feet taking him through familiar hallways, past servants who nodded politely at him and praetoria legionnaires who never barred his way to the rear of the building, where a stone path led to the private bathhouse.

The domed roof glittered at the base from intricate mosaic work depicting the constellations of the star gods. The pergola above the pathway was draped with sweet-smelling flowering jungle vines. Praetoria legionnaires guarded the entranceway, but none left their posts as Soren approached. He entered the bathhouse, the antechamber slightly cooler than it was outside, the place to disrobe empty save for a pair of bath attendants, who glanced at him before going back to their tasks.

Steeling himself, Soren pressed forward, walking through the arched entryway into a circular space that reminded him of the sea lapping at the shore. The tiled floor was done in deep blue, like the bottom of the ocean, while shades grew lighter as the bits of stone and tile and glass crept up the walls in a mosaic of curling waves beneath a soft sky. The inside of the dome above was lined with golden tiles, the pattern acting as the sun. It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the man lounging in the steaming pool, watching him approach with keen dark eyes.

Petals floated in the water, the scent of bath oils drifting with the steam, the tray they'd come from sitting close by the bath's sole occupant. Vanya had his arms stretched along the edge of the pool, water lapping at his waist and sliding down his chest in tiny droplets. He was naked, certainly a sight to behold, but Soren wasn't sure he had the right to it. He drew to a stop opposite Vanya, toes lined right up to the edge, and waited, never looking away from the other man.

Vanya tilted his head back a little, holding Soren's gaze, eyes dark with a complicated mix of emotions Soren couldn't decipher. "Do I owe you another vow for saving my life again?"

His quiet voice seemed to ring loudly against the bathhouse walls, tone leached of emotion, the banal neutrality he used for political adversaries all that remained. Soren couldn't stop the faint flinch that tugged at him, knowing Vanya would see it. "I never asked for the first one."

"I remember. I thought at the time I was giving it to a nameless warden. Yet it was a foreign prince who asked for what was owed." Vanya blinked slowly, almost lazily, but his gaze was sharp like cut clarion crystal. "My Chief Minister seems to think that is my way out of a debt owed by my House through the vow."

"And would you play your House games with me in such a way?"

"They are all I know."

Soren sighed before unbuckling his pauldron and the strap holding in place the sheath across his back with its poison short sword. "And all I know is how to be a warden."

"You came with the vow and asked as an Ashionen."

"I asked for my people."

Vanya arched an eyebrow. "Both of them?"

Soren dropped his gear to the floor, then unbuckled his gun belt and the stabilizing holster straps secured around his thighs. He pried it all off, bending to set the heavy leather with its dual pistols beside his poison short sword. "Wardens care for all of Maricol's children by guarding the borders everyone lives within."

"You wield starfire. You took the name of a royal bloodline."

Soren yanked off his gloves, tossing them aside before working on the leather waistcoat, never taking his eyes off Vanya. "I took that name at the behest of my governor. No part of the identity the Ashionens gave me can be found in any genealogy. There is no witness to who they think I am."

"You can't be a warden, not as you are."

Soren's fingers stuttered over the buttons of his shirt, nearly ripping one out in the wake of Vanya's words and the bitter truth he spoke. Soren drew in a breath, steadying himself with long practice, and mechanically undid the rest before shrugging off the shirt. "I won't be a prince."

"Then what will you be?"

Soren said nothing to that, silent beneath Vanya's heavy gaze. He pulled off his boots and tossed them aside before stripping out of the rest of his clothes. Then he stepped into the warm water, finding his footing with ease, then waded toward Vanya, who watched him come, still as yet unmoving. Soren closed the distance between them, heartbeat loud in his ears, feeling almost lightheaded when he stepped between Vanya's spread legs. Despite how close they were, it still seemed as if a vast chasm separated them.

Wardens weren't supposed to want, he knew, but Soren had always wanted this, had always wanted Vanya. If his road didn't have Vanya walking beside him, then it wasn't a road he would travel.

Soren crawled onto Vanya's lap, their soft cocks brushing together beneath the warm water as he reached with damp hands to frame Vanya's face. Vanya didn't try to stop him, and Soren searched those eyes for a long moment before curving in close to press their foreheads together, breathing the same air after far too long apart.

"I once said I could never go home again," Soren rasped. "But that's not true. You're my homeland. Not Ashion, not Solaria, not any road that leads me to a border away from you. I don't care about the crown you wear or the one I lost. You, Vanya. You are all I have ever wanted."

Warm, firm hands gripped his waist, fingers digging in hard, but he didn't push Soren away. Vanya's voice came out terribly rough, sending a shiver down Soren's spine. "Soren."

He pulled back but didn't go far, mouth hovering over Vanya's, their lips a breath apart as Soren laid bare all that he was. "I love you, princeling. Do with that what you will."

For a moment, Vanya was still beneath him, looking at him with wide, dark eyes. Then he surged upward, one hand skimming up Soren's back to grip his hair as Vanya kissed him with ruinous intent. He tasted like the strong tea Solarians favored, warm and alive beneath Soren's hands as they stole air from each other. Vanya's fingers were tangled tight in Soren's hair, and so when Vanya pulled his head back, breaking the kiss, Soren could only follow where he led.

Warm lips dragged down his throat, teeth scraping against the pulse there. Soren dug his fingers into Vanya's shoulders when the other man sucked a bruise into his skin. "Vanya."

"You walked away, and I should never have let you go," Vanya said harshly.

Soren lifted his hand and touched the side of Vanya's face where it was tucked so close. "I hurt you. I never meant to, but I did."

It hadn't been his intention, knowing how much Vanya needed truth in his life filled with words that didn't mean what they should and a House whittled down by betrayal and tradition. But everything he'd done, every secret he had kept, Soren had done so not out of malice but out of love, and he wanted Vanya to know that.

Vanya's arm curled around his waist, dragging Soren impossibly closer. He sucked in a breath, heat he couldn't blame on the pool settling in his skin and hardening his cock. Vanya pulled Soren's head to the side, and he went, letting Vanya kiss his way up to the hinge of his jaw to nip at his ear.

"Do you know what Callisto told me once?" Vanya said, voice deep and ragged, his cock a growing hardness between them. "That our roads were always meant to cross. You were always meant to be mine, Soren. Even the star gods knew that. I should have believed them."

Soren closed his eyes at that, stomach swooping like he stood on an airship suddenly losing altitude. "Then keep me, princeling, because you always had me."

Vanya groaned, the sound pressed into Soren's skin, before he let go of Soren's hair and blindly reached out for the tray near the ledge. Vials and jars were knocked over with a clatter, but he snagged a sealed one before his hand disappeared beneath the water again. He gripped Soren's thighs, lifting him up out of the water as he stood. Soren wrapped his legs around Vanya's waist, stealing kisses as Vanya walked them across the pool to the stairs, carefully carrying him out of the water. He was taken to one of the wide benches that lined the mosaiced wall, the marble cool beneath his back when Vanya laid him down on it.

Soren curled his hand over the back of Vanya's neck, tugging him down into a heated kiss, Vanya settling between his legs in a way no dream could replicate. Maybe it was the steam from the water drifting through the air that made Soren lightheaded, or maybe it was having everything he'd ever ached for within grasp once more. His skin was primed for touch, practically burning for it, and Vanya was the only person he wouldn't mind becoming ash for.

"You are mine," Vanya said fiercely, holding him there as they panted into each other's mouths. "The Ashionens cannot have you, and the wardens do not want you, so you will be mine."

Soren's fingers scrabbled against the ladder of Vanya's ribs, something like a whine crawling out of his throat to leave his lips. "Yes."

It felt like a vow between them, the words a promise that Soren wouldn't break this time. Vanya leaned over him, blocking out the world, leaving only the two of them in that moment. "Then I will have you."

Soren shuddered at the words, managing a jerky nod. Vanya gripped his knee and tugged Soren's leg outward at an angle. He held on to Vanya's shoulders when a slick finger pressed against his hole and slid in deep, no teasing in the touch, just a desperate need that Soren felt in his bones. Soren was so hard already it hurt, wanting everything Vanya could give him.

Wanting Vanya and able now to have him.

"Do you know," Soren gasped out, looking up into eyes he wanted to see every morning until the end of their road, fingers skating over a beloved face he'd committed to memory so long ago, "I would burn the world for you."

Vanya swore, pressed another finger into Soren, the stretch too much too soon, but he didn't care. Vanya surged forward, kissing him with a ferocity that made their teeth scrape together, the curl of his fingers inside Soren pressing against the spot that made him jerk with pleasure, wanting more, wanting everything.

And Vanya must have felt the same because he pulled his fingers free and shifted forward, pressing the head of his slick cock against Soren's hole, and pushed in and in. Soren tipped his head back, mouth open on a silent, strangled gasp of air as Vanya took him, claimed him, the burn of him sliding in some distant ache Soren would always cherish.

Vanya rested their foreheads together, forearms pressed to the bench on either side of Soren's head. Soren hooked the leg not bent near to his chest around Vanya's waist, digging his heel against the small of the other man's back. Vanya shifted on his knees, hips flexing, the motion pushing him impossibly deeper into Soren.

He let out a strangled little sound, and Vanya laughed, low, almost disbelieving, before he levered himself up. Soren groaned when Vanya gripped him by the hips and ground into him, slow and teasingly, because it might have been months since they last took each other apart, but Vanya had always known how to make Soren want no one else.

"I will give Ashion my country's Legion," Vanya said as he pulled out before thrusting back in, all while dragging Soren back down on his cock with that bruising grip of his. The force of it nearly had Soren biting through his tongue. "Because you asked, and I won't break my vow to you."

Soren's hands tried to find purchase above his head on the cold marble, but the edge of the bench was too far away. "Vanya?—"

Another brutal thrust, the ache of it making Soren momentarily lose the ability to speak. "And I will keep you because you were mine from the first moment I saw you."

The marble was useless, so Soren flailed his arms downward, finding Vanya's to grip the other man's strong forearms and hold on. Another thrust, oil barely slicking the way, and Soren let Vanya take what he wanted, groaning as the pace increased, the sound of their skin slapping together and their harsh breathing echoing in the bathhouse.

"You will be of my House," Vanya bit out, baring his teeth, eyes dark with desire and want and need that Soren knew all too well. Vanya spread Soren's legs wider, forcing Soren's hips up, the next thrust at an angle that made Soren nearly choke on his tongue. He did it again and again, panting hard with the effort. "You won't be nameless because you will carry mine."

Soren came with a shout the praetoria legionnaires outside could probably hear through the stone wall, came untouched, Vanya's words like the shock of starfire running through him, lighting him up from the inside out. He shuddered through his orgasm, barely able to breathe as Vanya pounded into him, taking his own pleasure in Soren's body because he could, because he had the right to it and always had.

Vanya finally came with a groan, hips grinding against Soren as he spent himself. His cock throbbed inside Soren, and he weakly clenched around it, shivering at the way Vanya's grip got impossibly tighter. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing heavily, before Vanya slowly pulled out, leaving Soren aching to be filled again. Vanya pushed a finger inside even as he leaned over to kiss Soren, both of them messy and warm and still holding on.

"Our roads were always meant to cross," Vanya murmured against his lips, finger pressing deeper, skating over that too-sensitive spot deep inside. Soren couldn't stop the way his hips jerked, not sure if he wanted more or less, only knowing that he didn't want Vanya to stop touching him. "The Dawn Star guided you to me, and I love you too much to see you walk away once more."

Soren wrapped his arms around Vanya and tugged him down, tucking his face against the curve of Vanya's neck and shoulder. Beyond the walls of the bathhouse was a war and their duties meant for two different countries and the whole of Maricol itself. But here, wrapped up in each other and nothing else, Soren let himself hold on to the only thing that had ever mattered to him.

Vanya never let him go.