Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,78

doing a reasonable job, and if it was up to Loth he’d have happily carried on that way, except it couldn't be that simple, could it?

It all came to a head one morning as Loth was dozing through yet another boring meeting.

“-oronation, Your Graces?”

Loth’s eyes snapped open, and he found himself on the end of a disapproving stare from the lord high chancellor, a man who Loth secretly thought looked rather like a toad, with bulging eyes and rolls of flesh hanging off his neck. Loth pulled himself upright in his chair and regretfully removed his hand from Quinn’s thigh under the table.

“What about it?” he asked and hoped it sounded like he’d been listening.

“We need to set a date. The kingdom needs clear leadership, and the people are eager to celebrate their new king.” The man’s gaze flicked between Loth and Quinn, narrowing, and Loth half expected his tongue to whip out and start catching flies. “Um, whoever that may be.”

Loth caught Ser Greylord’s expression and didn’t like the way he looked worried.

“The problem is,” Ser Greylord said later, as Loth and Quinn walked with him along one of the castle’s galleries, “that in order to protect the rightful prince, we may have sown confusion at the same time.”

“Well, that was the point, wasn’t it?” Loth asked.

“It was,” Ser Greylord said, inclining his head. “But now, of course, when Quinn takes the throne, what’s to stop some troublemaker insisting a year from now, or ten, or twenty, that the other prince was the rightful one all along, and Quinn is a pretender.”

“This was your idea!” Loth groaned. “You’re right. You’re a terrible chess player. You’re probably also a terrible human being. And why are you carrying around a jar of beard oil?”

“Ah,” said Ser Greylord. He slipped the small jar underneath his cloak. His face was pink. “That is a gift for someone. And yes, I know it was my idea, and it served its purpose at the time. But it does leave us with a difficult choice now.”

“No,” Loth said. He met Quinn’s gaze. “It’s not a difficult choice. I can make an announcement ceding any claim to the kingdom. And if I leave now, then you should have plenty of time before the coronation to sort it out.”

Quinn’s eyebrows drew together into a scowl the likes of which Loth hadn’t seen since he was a grubby little pile of dirt, straw, and bad temper.

“You will not,” he hissed, and grabbed the front of Loth’s doublet, stomping down the corridor and dragging Loth behind, making him yelp as he was forced to put weight on his still-tender ankle. Quinn opened the first door they came to and pulled him roughly inside, slamming the door closed behind them.

Library, Loth noted dimly, but his attention was mainly taken by Quinn crowding him against the wall and jabbing at his chest with one bony finger.

“What do you mean, leave?” he demanded. His eyes blazed. “Who the fuck told you that you could leave?”

Quinn was hissing and spitting like a wet cat, and Loth was so surprised that he could barely push the words out. “You heard what Greylord said, and—”

Quinn twisted the front of Loth’s doublet and pushed him harder against the wall. “I don’t care what Greylord said. I don’t care what anyone says!” His eyes shone, and not with anger this time, but with tears. And just like that, his anger seemed to vanish. He sagged against Loth, his breath hitching. “I can’t—I can’t do it on my own, Loth!”

Loth’s mouth worked, opening and closing until he managed to speak at last. “You won’t be on your own. You’ll have Greylord to guide you, and help you rule —”

Quinn let out a frustrated noise. “I’m not talking about ruling. Greylord doesn’t make me laugh. He doesn’t make me feel alive, or take me to bed like you do.”

“I’m sure if you asked nicely, he’d consider—”

“I don’t love Greylord!” Quinn burst out.

Loth froze. “What?”

Quinn blinked back the tears, then drew himself up straight and jutted his chin out. “You heard me.”

Blood roared in Loth’s skull as he tried to make some sense of what Quinn was saying. “You love me,” he repeated. Quinn nodded. “You love me.” Loth said it again, just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things, that he wasn’t dreaming. “You love me?”

“Stop saying it like it’s a joke!”

Loth blinked at him. “A joke? No, I didn’t mean...” His chest ached. “Quinn, I’m saying it because I