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a towel he found on the floor.

Jethain snatched them. He isolated each toe with the towel and rubbed it circumferentially. “You didn’t have to do such a good job. You could have held back,” he grumbled.

“I did hold back,” Rak said quietly. He stood up and walked over to his clothes. He dressed slowly, wincing now and then as a bruise protested.

“Scorch it.” Jethain scrubbed his toes harder. “Jisten’s a lucky, lucky man.”

Rak froze, his wings half flared. “What do you mean by that?”

“Everyone knows you want Jisten, and he acts scorched strange around you.” Jethain started drying his other foot.

Rak ran his hands through his short hair. “I am not worthy of someone as pure as Jisten. He is a Valer, and because of that, he has a racial affixation on my wings. That is all he should be interested in where I am concerned. He is still the Captain of your Guard, and your friend. As I am, I hope, tonight’s events notwithstanding.”

“Araken, you’re my brother and still my friend,” Jethain ran the towel between each of his toes.

“I am relieved to hear that.” Rak glanced at Jisten frequently and Jethain not once. The captain was mercifully unconscious still.

“I know you were forced. Can I have another towel?” Jethain never looked at Rak. “Your saliva is strangely slippery, one isn’t enough.”

Rak fetched one from the bathroom and handed it over, all without making eye contact even for a split second. “If it is not too much to ask, can you remove this collar? It is spelled to prevent me from touching it. A simple slide leash, and I cannot remove it.”

“Sure.” Jethain started over on his first foot, the big toe. “Where is it?”

“Around my neck,” said Rak patiently. He wondered where Jethain thought it might be.

The prince finally looked up from his feet and peered at Rak’s neck. “Tiny sucker.” He hooked it with his index finger and pulled it over Rak’s head.

Rak breathed a sigh of relief as he sensed his power, and his connection to Zotien, flooding back into him.

“I’ll give this to Forael.” Jethain placed the collar on his side table.

“I will make you a mint tonic,” Rak announced once he finished tying his sash. “And a strengthening dose. They purged and bled you again.”

Jethain slid on his socks. “Yeah, let’s say they did that. And

just

that.”

“Of course,” agreed Rak. He stepped to the side table where an array of herbal medicines were laid out. He mixed the two potions and came back to the bed. “Nasty one first.” He handed Jethain the strengthening dose.

Jethain took it and chugged it. He still didn’t look at Rak, who handed him the mint tonic next. The prince leaned back in the bed with that one and sipped it, staring at Jisten. “Please check on my captain.”

Rak padded over to Jisten and knelt beside the cot. He placed two fingers on the Valer’s neck and watched his chest rise and fall. “His pulse is strong and steady, and his breathing is even.”

“At least they left him alone.”

“Thank the night for that mercy,” said Rak fervently. He brushed a strand of hair off Jisten’s cheek. “I treasure his purity.”

“Do you?” Jethain asked testily.

“It is interesting to speak with one so innocent of the cruelty of the world, and so different from me.” The regret in Rak’s heart spilled into his voice.

“He actively keeps cruelty at bay,” Jethain said and sipped. “At least, in the guard.”

“He is blessed with the ability to do so. A great deal of that is due to your support, I am sure.”

“It’s a privilege,” Jethain said. “Having him as my captain is a privilege, too. I think you can understand that, even if few in the palace do.”

“I do understand that.” Rak stood up. “He will wake soon. Do you want me to leave?” He would understand if Jethain never wanted to look at him ever again.

“Do you want to leave? I certainly would understand,” Jethain countered. He kept his eyes on Jisten, though.

“My duty is to protect you. I am sure you will understand when I say that I feel like a total failure.” Rak picked up the dead mastigi and whispered a prayer. White flames flared as the body was consumed.

“I’m alive,” Jethain said and sipped more tonic. “That’s better than if you weren’t here.”

Next Rak picked up his pendant and ran the broken chain through his fingers. “You might have been better served if I had not been here this night.”

Jethain downed the rest of the tonic. He pulled the bed sheets up to his chest. “I wouldn’t be here tonight if not for you. And you’d be home with your family if not for me.” He settled down in the bed. “I cause a lot of trouble. More trouble alive than dead. Just ask Father.”

Rak touched his shoulder. “It is not your fault. Do not take the blame that belongs to me.” He snatched his hand back a moment later. Jethain wouldn’t want him touching him.

“I think those sun-cursed sun priests are to blame.”

“I am sorry for what happened.” There was a hint of a plea in Rak’s voice. “I pray that you find it in yourself to forgive me. In some matters, I am weak, and the old magics from the Riverlands are easy to use against me.”

“Riverlands magics?” Jethain looked at him at last. “Slave fires?”

“

Ai

,” said Rak shortly.

Jethain winced. “I’m sorry, brother.”

“Not your fault,” replied Rak. A slight motion elsewhere in the room made Rak turn.

Without getting up, Jisten rubbed his head and asked, “Did I drink too much? Or did someone hit me?”

“You took a blast from a sun priest,” said Rak, grateful for the interruption. “I was not in time to prevent them from purging the prince.” He moved back to the side table and prepared a headache remedy.

“Jethain!” Jisten jumped to his feet, then bent over clutching his head. He straightened up

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