Chapter Text
Nikandros's understanding of the Veretian language might not have been quite as comprehensive as Damen's, but he'd made a point of polishing up his linguistic skills starting from the moment he'd realised that his then-future King was intrigued rather than angered by the blond omega Veretian Prince who had held a knife to Damen's throat. Nikandros was no fool. He'd known exactly how that was going to end.
As such, even when they were levelled at him while he was barely awake, Nikandros could hardly mistake the meaning of the Veretian words: "Hey, did you know that everyone in the court thinks you're fucking Laurent?"
Nicaise said it without any particular inflection as he leaned casually against the post of Nikandros's bed. As if that were an entirely normal sentence to offer in greeting at the crack of dawn, or ever. And as if it were usual for Nikandros to wake up to find that the recently-ascended King of Vere's so-called 'pet' had invited himself into Nikandros's rooms.
It was no real mystery how Nicaise had managed to get past the guards this morning, though. Right now, the alphas down the corridor from Nikandros's door would probably have laid down in a line and formed a platform of bodies for Nicaise to stroll over the top of on his way to Nikandros's rooms, if only Nicaise had batted his eyelashes a little and told them he didn't want to dirty his boots with the dust on the marble floor.
For his part, Nikandros liked to think he was unaffected, but that was a flat-out lie. He would already have kicked Nicaise out with a sharp denial aimed at the boy's indecent claim if he wasn't being impacted. He was pumping all of his concentration into remaining perfectly still so that he didn't either react to that smell or flee the room to get away from it. He had no desire to show either kind of weakness in front of Nicaise, who he knew would surely find some way to use it against him.
And, also, moving very far would have been problematic considering that the bedsheets gathered around his hips were currently the only thing maintaining Nikandros's modesty. What could he say? Delpha was hot this time of year.
It felt even hotter now, with a blush sweeping its way over Nikandros's face and not stopping until even his chest was reddened.
"You could have at least bathed," Nikandros finally managed to say.
Judging by the smell of him, Nicaise had tracked Nikandros down before he'd even made the slightest attempt to wash away the evidence of his just-abated first heat. Nikandros supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; the boy had no shame and was probably intentionally trying to use his scent against Nikandros to throw him off balance.
Nikandros, luckily, had had plenty of practice by now at not being swayed by a pretty Veretian face surrounded by the heady smell of omega. He knew better than to fall for that, even if it seemed he was manifestly incapable of preventing others around him from doing so. He just had to keep reminding himself not to be entrapped by the seeming angelic innocence of Nicaise's countenance.
"Whatever the courtiers might whisper among themselves, I'm not actually bedding your King. And you're irritating, but not stupid, so I'm sure you already know there's no truth to it. It's just gossip born of the Veretian courtiers growing bored with this new peace of ours."
"It's not as though you haven't given them reason to gossip, with all the unexplained private time you've spent alone with Laurent recently," Nicaise pointed out.
"We were wrestling. And no," he headed Nicaise off before he could comment, "that isn't a euphemism for bedding him. My King is allied with yours. So it's my duty to protect that alliance by teaching your King the skills to better defend himself unarmed. It's obviously necessary, considering the positions in which he has found himself in the past, and might encounter again in future. That's all."
Nikandros privately suspected that Laurent might care more for demonstrating his new skills against Damen in a less-than-combative setting than he did for increasing his capacity for beating a true opponent. But, as always, Nikandros tried not to think too hard about such things.
"Considering Laurent's had a bunch of knotheads try to rape him as soon as they smelled something they liked, you mean?" Nicaise said with a sharp smile, as openly vulgar as ever. "Well I'm likely to have to deal with that same shit at some point, now that I'm to be cursed with a heat every few months. And it pisses me off to have to rely entirely on a bunch of alphas, defective or otherwise, to protect me. So I want to learn how to fight as well."
"That would be a good idea," Nikandros agreed. He liked to believe that it would never really be an issue as long as Nicaise was inside the walls of the new palace at Marlas, but he wasn't as naïvely hopeful as some. Even if Nikandros had trusted the Veretians to all be honourable, their recent upheaval proved that the character of some Akielons also left something to be desired. And even apart from the possibility of wilful disloyalty among the subjects of either nation, not all alphas were motivated enough to ignore their response to heat pheromones. Marlas certainly wasn't filled with nothing but strong-willed men used to battling through exhaustion and the elements without ever giving in to their bodies. Many of the courtiers in particular were soft and entitled. They wanted, so they took. It was that simple for them. Or so they thought it should be.
When Nicaise opened his mouth again, Nikandros had a foreboding feeling that he knew exactly what was coming.
"So you're going to teach me," Nicaise said, a demand rather than a request. "I mainly want to learn how to handle a blade, though, rather than wrestling; Laurent might like the idea of rolling around in a tangle with an alpha twice his size, but I'm not sure I see the appeal."
Of course he didn't. Nicaise considered himself above alphas, that much was obvious. He wouldn't want to be literally brought down to 'their level' like that. Nor would he want to actually have to touch them when there was no reason for it.
"There are sword masters all over the region that would go out of their way to respond if King Laurent asked them the favour of instructing his pet," Nikandros said. "Why should it have to be me?"
"Because why would I want a teacher who's more worried about Laurent than about me? As if someone like that would actually show me anything useful. They'd probably be too worried that I might get hurt while training and they'd be blamed for it to do the job properly. But from what I've seen, you don't give much of a damn about doing anything to get on Laurent's good side. You wouldn't let that hold you back," Nicaise said.
Nikandros had to acknowledge that point. But still. "I don't even like you. Why should I do anything for you?"
"You don't like Laurent either," Nicaise pointed out, "and you've still been teaching him. So I don't see why that should be a problem."
Nikandros shook his head, fully ready to turn Nicaise down.
But then the brat added slyly, "Or perhaps the court is right after all and you really do like Laurent. Was the real reason you gave him lessons so that you'd have an excuse to get him down underneath you, skin-to-skin with him, without your best friend realising that you really want to fuck his hot piece of ass?"
Nikandros grimaced. "Given the choice, I would prefer that there was an unsailable sea between your King and my bed. I told you, my personal opinion didn't come into the equation when I agreed to show him the necessary skills. If it had, I'd have stayed clear of him."
"If your personal feelings aren't relevant," Nicaise challenged, "then prove it now. Teach me."
"Are you going to follow me around trying to use your circular 'logic' on me and irritating me even more than usual until I agree?" Nikandros asked, admitting to himself that he was already more or less giving into what surely must be inevitable.
"Of course. Besides," Nicaise said, "I thought you would have realised by now that you really don't have much of a choice here. If I was assaulted after I'd asked you to teach me to defend myself and you'd turned me down, Laurent would have you exiled and shipped across that unsailable sea you were talking about, or send you to die alone in a desert or something. And that's if you're lucky."
"I thought you didn't want someone to teach you because they were worried about Laurent."
"I don't want someone to teach me just so they can try to impress Laurent. But why should I have a problem with wielding Laurent's power as a weapon when it suits me? Why else do you think I signed a contract with him, if not to take proper advantage of being the King's pet?"
Nikandros sighed. "You'd better be a fast learner. The quicker I can declare you capable of slashing any alpha who oversteps his bounds to ribbons so that I no longer have to spend my free time training you, the better."
"Careful," Nicaise said, "or I might think that you really care."
"What I care about is that you get out now and let me get at least another hour of sleep before I have to put up with you again," Nikandros said. "And for everyone's sake, go bathe before you meet me in the training rooms after breakfast. You're even more intolerable when you smell like that."
Nicaise scoffed. "Yeah. 'Intolerable'. I just bet that's what you think of it."
Nicaise did leave Nikandros alone for a while, mercifully, but Nikandros couldn't get back to sleep. The slightly stale but still prominent scent of Nicaise's heat had permeated the room and seemingly now clung to the walls, surrounding Nikandros and leaving him feeling too unsettled for rest. It was just a new way for Nicaise to irritate him.
At least Nikandros had the opportunity to plant Nicaise in the dirt later that day in reprisal. Nicaise looked disgusted when the grime of the training ring stuck to the sweat of his exertion, rendering his bath almost pointless. It brought a satisfied smile to Nikandros's face.
That somewhat petty revenge wasn't really worth it in the end, though, Nikandros thought in retrospect.
Apparently Laurent had caught sight of the bruises from training that now must have decorated Nicaise's otherwise unmarked skin and asked him about them, or alternatively, he'd smelled Nikandros's scent left on Nicaise through their proximity immediately post-heat. Either way, the next time Nikandros saw Laurent, the Veretian King was giving him a very pointed and too-calm look of speculation, making it visibly clear that he was planning something that Nikandros wouldn't likely enjoy. Nikandros didn't mind admitting that that look was vaguely terrifying, considering its source.
When, hours later, Nikandros somehow found himself knocked into a pile of horse muck by a servant, who practically prostrated himself before the Kyros in an endless stream of apologies for his 'poorly-timed' clumsiness, Nikandros strongly suspected that the incident wasn't anywhere near as accidental as the servant would have him believe. Laurent had his little spies everywhere in Marlas these days.
His belief that it was planned was all but confirmed when Nicaise somehow caught sight (and smell) of the revolting state of Nikandros on his way to the baths, despite Nikandros at the time passing through an area of the castle which Nicaise would normally never frequent. Nicaise devolved into a round of laughter so intense that he sounded like he might asphyxiate from it (which would serve him right).
Revenge might easily turn into an ongoing cycle, it seemed. Nikandros supposed it could have been a lot worse than just this, though, knowing Laurent. This was likely just a warning shot fired across the bow.
Nikandros wondered whether exile for refusal might not have been the better option after all. At least there would be no Veretians to bother him across the sea.