the demand, with the caveat that for your dishonor, it will be a fight to the death."
Davrin barely kept from climbing on the table so he could get at the bastard to knock his teeth down his throat.
"Accepted," Cimar said, voice ringing out across the hall and effortlessly over all the racket, leaving a resounding silence in his wake.
Grayne smirked from where he remained at his post behind Tekker's seat, standing against the wall like the world's ugliest statue. "You really think you can best me, little librarian?"
"Come and find out."
"Not in the hall," Korena said with a sigh. "To the tournament field. The duel begins in one hour. Sir Cimar, I would speak with you privately."
Davrin offered his arm and escorted her from the hall, heart pounding in his throat all the while. They retreated to her private solar, where Aliara was already pouring drinks.
He'd just sat down with the glass Aliara handed him when the door opened. All but throwing the drink aside, Davrin rose and strode across the room to pull Cimar into his arms. "What in the world were you thinking, you knave?"
Cimar didn't reply immediately, just held tightly and rested his head against Davrin's chest. All his armor meant it wasn't a terribly comfortable arrangement, but Davrin didn't much give a damn.
"He's going to do everything in his power to kill you," Davrin said, the words coming out harsh, ragged. "Given he's a hellhound, there is a great deal within his power."
"I can handle him," Cimar said, drawing back and frowning up at him. "Do you really think I would have agreed to any of this if I didn't know, with absolute certainly, that I could handle Grayne? It was always going to come down to a fight. These things always do—and Grayne can't help but fight dirty, so my life was always on the line. Stop acting like you don't know that."
"You're right, you're right," Davrin said, and dragged him into a kiss, leaving his own lips stinging and bruised from the force of it. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. I never enjoyed that part of calling for a challenge. It's stupid that to have vengeance for my friend I must risk every life but my own."
Cimar smiled. "You're a terrible lord, actually caring about things like other people's lives. Entirely too soft to be a prince consort, surely."
Korena laughed, drawing their attention to where she stood closer to the fire with Aliara twined around her. "He is soft, but he's smart and pretty. Two out of three isn't bad."
Rolling his eyes, Davrin returned to his seat, liking it a bit too much when Cimar took up the traditional post of a champion: just to the right and slightly behind Davrin's chair. "What did you want to speak to Cimar about?"
"Nothing, really," Korena said. "I thought you two would like a moment. I have every faith Sir Cimar will take the day, but I also have every faith that Grayne will use every nasty, dirty trick in existence."
Cimar nodded. "Agreed."
"We'll give you two a moment. When you're done, we'll be waiting in the hall. Davrin, wear your ring. I want Tekker and everyone else to know just how badly they've messed up. If they want to play games, then let the games begin in earnest."
"My queen."
Korena swept out, Aliara at her side, the door closing quietly behind them.
"I will never be able to repay you for all you've done," Davrin replied. "I knew you would have to fight. You should not have to take a life. That goes against everything we called this challenge for."
"When you treat with rats, death is inevitable."
Davrin kissed him, soft and slow and lingering, savoring the taste of this man he'd loved from afar for so long. "I've waited a lifetime to have you close. If you are parted from me now, I will lose my mind."
"Have faith in your champion," Cimar replied, and gave him a far more bitey kiss. "I've been waiting too, hoping in vain for what I thought would be eternity. I'm not going to let some rabid dog like Grayne take me away now."
"I have more faith in you than the divine. It's cheating rats I worry about. I will trust you to know how to handle the bastard."
"That reminds me…" Cimar stepped back far enough he could reach up and unbuckle the white collar that Davrin had never seen leave his neck, not even when they were in bed together.