Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,75
they were doing, and not make any waves.”
Loth saw Calarian’s anarchist brow crease at that. He cleared his throat. “Do as little as possible. That sounds like an excellent plan. So, ah, the prince and I—or the peasant and I, who knows?—should probably just retire to one of the royal bedrooms, hmm? And keep out of everyone’s way? For the good of the kingdom.”
Quinn raised a single eyebrow. “For the good of the kingdom?” The expression he wore was both regal and hot as fuck, and only made Loth more eager to get Quinn away from the body of his uncle and out of his doublet.
“Definitely. It’s my—our—duty as the new monarchs to facilitate a smooth transition of power.”
The eyebrow inched higher, but then Quinn flashed him a broad smile. “Well, if we have to facilitate for the sake of the people, I suppose we’d better go ahead and do it.”
“I thought they were already facilitating each other,” Dave said, brow furrowed in thought. Loth and Quinn were already heading down the stairs when they heard a loud, “Wait, no. Fucking! That’s what they’re doing!” Then Dave paused before asking, “Won’t the horses get jealous?”
Loth couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Relief and adrenaline rushed through him as he doubled over, letting out a series of distinctly un-royal cackles. “We’re making the horses jealous, Quinn!”
“Well we're not, but we can be if you can stop laughing long enough to get down the stairs and into a bedroom,” Quinn said, grinning and slapping his arse.
It just made Loth laugh harder, and he probably should have paid more attention to where he was going. As it was, he took the curve of the stairs without looking, put his foot on a step that wasn’t there, fell arse over teakettle, and was unable to stop himself until he hit the landing with a thump, a groan, and a popping sound from his ankle that couldn’t possibly mean anything good.
Later, Loth would reflect on the irony of escaping the battle unscathed only to laugh so hard he tripped and fell down the stairs. For now though, he just lay at the bottom of the staircase in a heap of limbs, ankle throbbing horribly, and waited for his handsome prince to come and rescue him.
Chapter Eighteen
Loth jolted awake with a start when someone landed a stinging slap on his naked arse. He yelped and swore. Then he rolled over onto his back and turned his head to glare furiously at a grinning Quinn. “What the hell was that for?”
Quinn sprawled on the bed beside him. “That was for saying, halfway through, that I was an excellent rider.”
“You just can’t take a compliment, can you?”
“Not when it’s also a horse-fucking joke, no!” Quinn reached out and flicked one of Loth’s nipples. Hard.
“Ow!” Loth cupped his hands over his nipples. “Stop it! I’m your injured hero!”
Quinn, like an idiot, stopped, and Loth seized the advantage and rolled on top of him, pinning his wrists to the bed. Quinn didn’t seem too bothered by that. He just grinned up at Loth, his hair a tousled copper mess against the fine sheets, and waited to see what Loth’s next move was.
“Ugh, unfortunately my ankle is the only thing that’s throbbing,” Loth said. He pecked Quinn on the tip of the nose before rolling off him. Then he sat up, wincing as he set his feet on the floor and all the blood rushed back into his swollen ankle.
Quinn made a sympathetic noise behind him, and the mattress dipped as he shifted. A moment later he was kneeling behind Loth, pressing warm kisses to the nape of his neck, and across his shoulders.
The room they’d claimed a few hours ago wasn’t the finest room in the palace—neither of them wanted to fuck on Lord Doom’s bed—but it was still the nicest room Loth had ever slept in. The bed was large, the rugs on the floor were thick and soft, and the window offered a fine view of the city all the way to the harbour. The room also caught the afternoon sun, and from the deepening golden shade of it, Loth suspected they’d both slept longer than they’d intended. Loth tried not to feel guilty about all the important things Quinn had to do as Quinn pressed another kiss to his nape.
Loth would miss this. He’d miss Quinn’s quick wit and his perfect arse and his red hair, but it was