This line of argument was tiring. Kethaias was determined to stick to his excuse of thinking that Ryland needed to be rescued from a coup. Or an attack or invasion or something of that nature. Kethaias said he'd been in the middle of something<i>important.<br/>
</i><br/>"And yet here you are," Ryland said. "Responding to a short missive that said,<i>Come marry me. </i>And there was no letter from<i>your ambassador </i>about there being a threat here, and nothing from Gharreld calling on a force to protect us from the treaty she forged for you. Come off it, Kethaias. That isn't what you really believed."<br/><br/>Gharreld had stopped and motioned for his own soldiers to stand their ground around him, a short distance away from where Kethaias and Ryland were standing together in the courtyard. Teleyard was not so polite, rage clear on his face underneath that helmet. The feather on top of it was wafting, distracting. They inched closer, their horses tossing their heads.<br/><br/><i>You wouldn't be happy. Not unless you've done a lot of growing up between then and now.<br/>
</i><br/>Ryland laughed. "Neither would you. For the same reason."<br/><br/>Teleyard's horse was antsy under his tight rein, the tension bleeding down to the mount. "Your Majesty! Please let me expel these barbarians for the offense they're giving you."<br/><br/>But Gharreld said nothing. Ryland had glanced to him, daring him, and Gharreld looked sour and defeated and angry, his mouth pressed thin. Ryland might have crowed with triumph if only he was sure.<br/><br/>Then Kethaias was grabbing him, kissing him, and suddenly in the next moment, the ear cuff was in his hand, warm from where it had been tucked away.<br/><br/>Warm with blood.<br/><br/>Ryland recoiled, and wasn't quick enough to jump back to catch Kethaias' fall. Rijek made up for it, darting in to help his king and exposing the great wound that had been the reason Kethaias was gasping and pale the whole time. It was more blood than Ryland had ever seen, and it made his head spin a little. Now was no time to lose it, though.<br/><br/>"The rest of you, protect us," Ryland said, looking to the other soldiers. "Escort us inside."<br/><br/>Surprisingly, it was Gharreld who turned calmly to one of the men beside him and said, "Bring a medic mage immediately."<br/><br/>Ryland could see the obvious. They could certainly have let Kethaias bleed out here and smoothed the whole fiasco over like that, and let the rest of Kethaias' empire tear itself apart in his absence. Or Gharreld could help him, and let Kethaias be in his debt. Perhaps he could even convince Kethaias to leave him Ryland, but he probably wouldn't. He'd leverage the favor accordingly, and heap the gift of the prince's hand on top of it, and be in the best position anyone had ever had over Kethaias in decades.<br/><br/>Ryland didn't object.<br/><br/>He steeled himself, though, and lifted the ear cuff--bloody or not--and fastened it to his ear. A clear proclamation. A needed one, given that Teleyard was swinging his troop around to get between them and the entrance to the castle.<br/><br/>"This is an outrage! Prince Ryland, you<i>cannot </i>marry that man. You are already promised. To me."<br/><br/>"Really?" Ryland said. "Because I never agreed to that marriage. I would have done so, if ordered by my king, but..." His smile quirked up, cruel. "It seems he's changed his mind."<br/><br/>Teleyard bristled. His color changed from red to purple, resembling nothing but a giant plum. Ryland hated him and gloated in that hate, his ridiculousness, the sheer success of escaping his grasp. His only regret was that he couldn't make the man's life more miserable without actually inflicting himself with the man as his husband. Which was not going to happen. Ever. And if they tried after this, well, Rijek had spoken true. It was notoriously hard to marry a corpse.<br/><br/>Ryland stepped forward. "Get out of the way. I command you, as your prince."<br/><br/>It was a choice to be made here, and Teleyard was having a private but expressive fit where he was, silent and fuming. They stared each other down, and Ryland caught a flash of humiliation on the man's face, right before he went riding off toward Gharreld, no doubt to complain and harass and cajole as far as he could.<br/><br/>With them out of the way, they trudged quickly inside, were met with a troop of medics and a stretcher, and Ryland steeled himself again and followed them all into a private room of the infirmary.<br/><br/>Three days later, they allowed Kethaias to wake up.<br/><br/>Ryland looked up from his book. He was sitting in a good patch of sunlight, catching the warm rays of the last of autumn's warmth through the afternoon, the window opened the curtain wafting lazily into the room. He always knew where to sit to cut a figure. The cuff was on his ear still, cleaned up.<br/><br/>"Oh, thank the Goddess," he said, shutting the book, when Kethaias turned to squint at him. "It has been so boring in here."<br/><br/>He dropped the book with a thump beside the chair and scooted it closer. On the bedside was an earthenware bowl, covered over, and a waiting spoon.<br/><br/>"Hungry? I can play nursemaid. If you like. Or your man is outside the door, if you prefer."