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A crabby old woman, the warm sea, & lots of whipped cream.

I don't see why they can't work a peace treaty out themselves." He's seen enough that any pleasantries feel less respectful, if anything. "You could spend your day in your study, if you needed to, leave them squabble. Hmm?"

"They can't work it out themselves. That they are unable to settle anything when left alone is precisely why I must lead the negotiations. People die if I turn my back. Two children died. "

"So solemn. You're one man, you can't be expected to rid Verona of concern." He pats my now made-bed.

"Yes, Elias. Exactly. I am one man. And I am expected to do precisely that, so I will."

I pick up my circlet and place it on my brow, hoping the cool of the gold against my skin might grant me some focus. It doesn't.

"Gods, you say that as if you're abandoned on a battleship. Have you been sleeping?"

"Sleeping? Yes. Sleeping well? I cannot say..."

"Sire, for heaven's sake."

"It's an avalanche to face." A swell has already begun to manifest in my brow.

"Oh, poor baby. All alone in this dirty cottage." He laughs at my pain, perhaps with good cause. "Now, let's start getting you dressed. At the very least."

Elias turns towards me to help me step into clean breeches. He stops suddenly as if lead has been lodged in his throat.

"Your highness..." His green eyes are fixed between my legs. I look down.

"I um...had not noticed that."

"Really? You didn't notice you woke up with your tail between your legs?" By his tone, he's somewhere between amused and alarmed, and I can't quite tell where he lies.

"My mind has been... in other places." I pull down the edge of my tunic in a failed attempt to conceal my hard-on.

"Other places? Perhaps in the bosom of Countess Eleanor?" He snickers.

"I wouldn't dare think of her ladyship. She's betrothed."

"My lord, there is no penalty for letting your mind wander." His look carries a sort of pity that makes my cheeks burn. "And anyway. Shame is unnecessary. You used to-"

"When we were twelve, Elias! Children! That's different!" I yelp, nerves pulling me to the opposite side of the room.

"How on earth does a fire get between your loins if you don't remember striking a match?" He sighs, hands on his slender hips. "You're quite perplexing at times, your grace. Shall I take care of it?" My manservant asks, matter-of-fact, as if he were inquiring about drawing me a bath or polishing my boots.

"Take care of it...?" The implications are bold, even for Elias.

"You've things to deal with today. It's best we got on with the morning, if you don't mind me saying." Before I can protest, Elias sets the trousers at my feet and drops to his knees. His eyes glint with a mischief I haven't seen before. "May I, your highness?"

"May you what?" I ask, perhaps knowing the answer but in part hoping my gut is wrong.

"Perhaps it's better to show you than to tell you, old friend."

Before I can say any more, his slender hand grabs my cock and he licks its head with a diligence . He looks up at me as he takes me into his mouth. I can feel his beard graze my balls; its a new sensation and my knees buckle under me.

He barely flinches as I fall, and catches me in his tanned arms too easily set me onto the bed. "Well?" He arches an eyebrow.

"Mmngh. God's teeth." I manage, pulling him into me by the hair as my lady did hours ago.

Ronan. What would she think if she knew I had been sprawled out like this, at the mercy of my manservant? Would she laugh, find it unbecoming, emasculating? Or is it-

Before I can debate any further, Elias has taken my length deep into his throat, sucking and stroking.

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