On Sun's Wings

by greygerbil

Summary:

Elis has always been fascinated by Azhar Sunwing, but on the day of his marriage to him, he is worried the feeling is not mutual and maybe never will be.

Notes:

• For 17 pansies (17pansies).

It was not the customary wedding kiss that made Elis’s breath catch in his throat, but the broad, shining smile Azhar gave him afterwards.

He had always been a handsome man, of course, and it was silly for Elis to be surprised by how strongly he felt drawn to him. After all, Elis had known him for years from his brief visits at court, though Azhar had mostly spent his time speaking to Morris, Elis’s king brother. His skin was bronze and his eyes were of a brown so light they seemed golden. His full obsidian hair hung in a long braid down his back, with a few strands always escaping, even now. He was taller than most men in any room, broad in the chest and shoulder, long limbs perfectly formed by muscle. To see him in resplendent garments was nothing special, either. Certainly the clothes had rarely been as elaborate as his outfit today, a red kaftan stitched with gold dragons and held by a broad sash, both decorated with actual gold and precious stones in half a dozen colours, matching the copious amount of rings he wore and the jewellery he used instead of a crown: a gossamer of finely worked gold chains with rubies and emeralds threaded through his hair down to the tip of his braid, and hanging in an intricate pattern over his forehead. Most men of the Samaians would have added a cloak for such an occasion, too, but Azhar preferred to show off his muscular under arms, which were wound with golden bands inlaid with precious stones as well. Still, despite today’s extraordinary splendour, Azhar had never been anything but audacious before, either, though in Elis’s private opinion he did not need the help to draw all eyes as he entered a room.

With such calls to reason, Elis forced himself to focus. The priest spoke the blessing of all twelve gods for them. Though Elis’s people and the Samaians lived separate, they had shared the same home for so long – the Acacians the land and the Samaians the air – that they spoke the same language, if with different accents, prayed to the same gods, though they honoured them in their own ways, and defended together against the raiders from Orland, each by their means. Despite their long cohabitation, however, it had been half-spoken treaties and terse verbal agreements regulating their relationship until now. The Samaians did not understand the land-born folk and kept away from them, and the Acacians often did not trust the nomads in the sky, who were thought fickle and difficult.

This unspoken alliance would be turned into a true one now because of King Morris, who had taken control of the country just a year ago, and Azhar Sunwing, the curious chief of the Samains, who had held his position since he was only a boy. Morris was the one to encourage Azhar, who did not so fully shy away from the Acacian court like his forbearers had, to visit more often, asking him again and again to come whenever his fleet passed by, and through long talks in the king’s private chambers, the two of them hatched a plan that scandalised all their elders, namely the first real peace contract between the Acacians and Samaians. To prove to each other that they meant their lofty words, Morris had given Azhar an important pawn: his younger twin brother to marry.

And so Elis came to be here, still staring at Azhar.

-

Elis had always wanted to speak to Azhar more when he was at court, but while they had talked, mostly business of war against the raiders, Morris was simply much better at arresting people’s attention. Tonight, he made especially sure not to leave Azhar even a moment, entangling him in conversations and questions whenever as much as a second of silence arose. Elis knew this was meant to be to his advantage. Elis and Morris were both aware that Elis, in many ways, was a weaker duplicate of his brother, like a copy made of the same text when the ink in the printing press grew sparse. Morris had burgundy hair and eyes of spring green in a face as white as snow, Elis’s short-cropped hair and beard were more reminiscent of the colour of red bricks, his eyes the indefinite, murky hue of a pond choked with moss, his pallid skin covered all over with freckles. Morris was lean and elegant, Elis lank and stiff. Where Morris handled people with spurious charm, Elis had only manners to fall back on. Morris’s ideas shocked and scandalised and delighted – as this wedding was ample proof –, Elis had always simply done his duty.

Yes, better to keep Azhar’s distracted, though as Elis worried at his cut of meat with his eating knife, he found it hard to ignore that it must look from the outside like Morris and Azhar had been married instead. Elis had worn the most plain outfit that could be allowed for such an occasion, dark greys stitched with silver, finding that he tended to look ridiculous in the sort of get-ups that his brother could get away with. However, now Morris plainly matched Azhar better at a glance, and it was him who made Morris laugh and chatter. He even put his hand on Azhar’s shoulder and arm at times, giving him a friendly squeeze, and leaned in often to whisper in his ear over the noise of the court.

Elis thought back to that smile after the kiss as Azhar burst out into laughter next to him. Well, Azhar was a charming man, reportedly always trailing admirers, and Elis could not blame them, as he was just as smitten. People like him knew how to make anyone feel special, even if, in his heart, the chief of the Samaians had probably hoped for a more exciting companion. Like Elis, however, he had a duty to fulfil.

-

The feast drew to an end eventually, a little earlier than it might have had they stayed on the ground, for Azhar would take him up to his flying home for the wedding night. As Elis rose from the dais and walked outside at Azhar’s side, his brother still talking animatedly, he tried to keep the fluttering of his nerves at bay. He had faced brutal battles for many years, this had no right to disquiet him so much.

A small barge waited for them, decked out with a sail of fine, patterned, colourful silk and hung all over with flowers of the meadow. Other, less decorated ships would transport Azhar’s sizeable entourage. Together, they would float up towards the massive ship above, which was topped with sails as big as clouds, its body as broad as a castle, with a deep bottom showing many layered rows of round windows in its sides, here and there interspersed with hatches for cannons and broader openings for landing bays. It was called the Stormbringer and housed, if Elis had heard right, as many people as a small town. Even from down here, he could see smaller ships and the agile dragons that the Samains kept as mounts constantly swarming around it like bees around a hive.

A dozen people waited for them at the barge. Many centuries ago, the nomads had moved in from the south. Only very few of Elis’s own people had ever directly mixed with the men and women of the sky, but he spotted a couple of them now by their pale skin and brighter hair, probably chosen as companions to underline the hopes for friendship between their people. Elis could not be surprised by their presence, even if the general distrust ran deep. He thought every little child stuck on the ground would sometimes look up with longing at the big town-ships floating across the horizon, their swift boats parting the clouds like birds, the sun gleaming off their metal hulls in the day and the fires of the alchemists keeping their engines burning like shooting stars in the night, and they’d wish to be carried away. At least Elis had.

Of course, this prospect was a lot less dreamy as an adult knowing how separate his life at the Stormbringer’s court would be from all he had known so far. Elis had never made many passionate friendships and left behind no lover, but he still found himself giving a curt nod to his loyal companions at arms as he turned, men and women he’d fought alongside for many years. He had not thought himself so sentimental, but his heart swelled as he saw the looks of concern and contriteness on their faces.

His brother took him by the shoulders to embrace him.

“Don’t mess it up,” he whispered in his ear as he grinned. “Think of it as a battle to win.”

Elis just raised a brow at him. He nodded to him, too, and gave a bow before he joined Azhar’s side. Standing right next to him, he could never not pay attention to the fact that even at his perfectly average height, he only reached up to Azhar’s chin.

Azhar turned to him. After both of them had been pulled every which way all day long by his brother, the priests, the nobles, the audience, it was the first time that he’d looked at Elis when not asked to do so for a part of the ceremony – or perhaps it was just the first time Elis noticed it, as he’d admit to being distracted, too. He straightened his back under the gaze.

“Azhar Sunwing,” Elis spoke with respect, feeling a little flustered, forced to say something, and not managing to come up with much.

Even though Azhar belonged to the illustrious Azimi family, which had provided the chiefs and chieftesses of the Samaians for generations, he used the name of the ship he was born on instead of a surname, like all of his people did.

“Elis Mellinkirk,” Azhar echoed playfully. It was the city Elis hailed from, in which they were standing now, and which Elis would leave behind. “Though it is Prince Elis Parcey in your parlance, as I understand, but I fear my people will call you Mellinkirk a lot, as it’s what we’re used to. I would like to bring you home now.” He turned back to Morris. “I will not keep your brother from you too long for your first separation. You know the winds carry us, but I suppose we should be back in two or three months to visit so you can make certain that Prince Elis has a good life with me.”

“I am sure he will, Azhar Sunwing,” Morris said.

“I promise it.”

These formalities done, Azhar vaulted over the side of his barge. Elis saw a split second too late that he’d offered him a hand to help him inside, his own grip already tight around the railing. Since it would be even more awkward to stop halfway in the movement, he pulled himself up, cursing himself briefly for having missed the chance to touch him. Azhar still smiled, though, and simply dropped his hand on the railing as well.

“Let us set sail, Hadiya,” he told a grey-haired woman with a sun-worn face who stood by the bow of the ship.

Hadiya gestured to her sailors and the barge lifted off the ground with a purr of its motor, spitting a thin trail of steam as the sails were adjusted to set the direction. It was a beautiful night of late summer, the days only just growing noticeably shorter, and the orange light of the sun made all the gold on Azhar’s clothes glitter and glint. A warm wind ruffled his clothes and his hair and he turned his face towards the breeze with a content sigh.

“I hope you don’t get airsick, Prince Elis,” he said.

“Not that I know of, but I have never been on an airship before.”

He did not feel queasy, but as solid ground rapidly fell away under them, he could not say he fully appreciated the thought, either. Elis had always liked being master of his own destiny in what ways were allowed to him, which included something as basic as to be able to move where he wanted if need be instead of being fenced in by the open air. On the other hand, being a younger prince meant a lot of paths had been drawn for him, and had he ever truly deviated from them? It would be best if he got used to these ships quickly, restrictive as they seemed.

“Never at all? Well, I’ll be happy to show you!”

On their swift way up, they passed a ship that was the sort Elis had only heard talk of before, or, if he’d seen it, not known to recognise it. Crops grew on a layer of earth at the top, from what looked like carrots and potatoes to full-grown trees.

“That’s the Summerflower,” Azhar said, leaning his elbows on the railing as he followed the direction of his gaze. “There’s a lot of mushrooms, mosses and ferns on the lower decks. Much of our food is made from plants like that. If you don’t like them, though, we do still produce other crop in the mountaintop gardens. You should be more used to those tastes.”

These high areas dotted all across the country were technically Acacian land, but inaccessible to its farmers who used roads, not airships, so the Samaians using them had mostly been tolerated. Their ownership had been regulated in the same contract that had promised Elis’s hand to Azhar.

“I’m sure I will be just fine eating your food.” He’d spent significant portions of his life on military rations and was not wont to complain. “Do you know the names of all the boats in your fleet?”

Azhar laughed. “Hardly. I know the names of all the ships, though.”

“There’s a difference?” Elis asked hesitantly.

Acacia had never owned a substantial fleet, being mostly busy with their neighbours on land, whose raiders attacked them on foot and the Samaians in the air. Elis had not been involved with the ships that they did own.

“Of course!” Azhar exclaimed. “An easy way to remember is that ships have three masts or more and boats have less.” He winked. “Better don’t forget it. A ship’s captain will be very put off if you talk to them about their boat.”

Elis gave a firm nod. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Don’t worry about it, you are still a tyro here, after all.” He laid his head to the side. “I don’t know every little vessel in my fleet, but everything that counts as a ship... yes, I know their names and I’ve been on board.”

Again, Elis looked to the swarm of ships and boats collected above them, most of the nomadic fleet, he would guess. It would be a lot of work to keep track, but it seemed sensible to him to have an eye on everything that was big enough to pack a punch with its cannons.

“Stormbringer is your only town-ship, yes?”

The truth was, even with diplomatic talks going on, the people of Acacia still knew very little of those floating above their heads. If he was to be the husband of the ruler, he should try to get the lay of the land, so to speak, even if there was no land involved.

“I’d say Tempest, Birdseye, and Old Golden are the closest to that, if you go by size and population,” Azhar said, broadly gesturing at three of the ships that hung dispersed in the sky over Mellinkirk. “You’ll meet a lot of people who carry their names. But yes, Stormbringer’s the biggest and the others probably won’t be built to expand. Our people like to keep mobile, so if we need to, we’ll rather split into a bigger fleet than deal with more ships as cumbersome as Stormbringer – magnificent as she is.”

Cumbersome was the right word, Elis thought, when they had risen to the height of Stormbringer’s hull. Up close, slowly ascending along the broad belly of the ship, he felt like he was looking at a floating mountain. The ship blocked out the sunlight, which made the wind feel suddenly cold. The thought of living in this gigantic, floating structure made Elis’s chest constrict.

Be reasonable. If it weren’t safe, they’d hardly house the chief and so many of their people on it.

Suddenly the light hit him again, blinding him for a moment. They had passed Stormbringer’s railing and were now looking at the vast length and breadth of its deck in the last soft red light of the sun. There were several areas that seemed to be reserved for ships and boats coming and going, though Elis had already counted two broad hatches for the same purpose on their way up. Otherwise, people were strolling along or sitting in small groups around meals. There were men and women clambering up and down the masts, and a dozen people crowded around a collection of steering wheels at the stern. He wondered about the intricate machinery that made the Stormbringer move, the massive gears and steam pipes that had to be working inside it, and the unreasonable fear came crashing back.

“What do you think?” Azhar asked eagerly.

“I, ah, Stormbringer is very impressive,” Elis said, aware that his voice was not transporting much in the way of emotion. He was not an effusive person at the best of times, much less when his stomach was doing flips.

“There’s more to see underneath,” Azhar promised.

He jumped out of the barge before it had set down, landing effortlessly like a cat. People were already crowding round the boat as it sank, and he shooed them away, laughing, to make room for the barge to set down. This time, he did not offer Elis his hand again. Perhaps he figured that Elis had thought it condescending or unneeded before. It truly was the latter, but Elis was still a little disappointed.

Azhar was quick to step up to him when Elis had made it to the ground, however, and waited for the crowd to come back in.

“I want you all to welcome my husband Prince Elis Parcey from the city of Mellinkirk! He is to rule at my side from now on and strengthen our bond with the land-dwellers!”

There was murmuring and cheering among the crowd. Elis was surprised how varied it was. He saw children in simple, frayed clothes standing next to well-dressed merchants or nobles, soot-stained workers by the side of men and women in leather armour. As he was still looking at the congregation, a little girl who couldn’t be more than five winters wound her hand out of her mother’s and ran towards Azhar.

“Azhar Sunwing! The ground-creepers let you go again?”

It would have been an awkward moment for any king Elis had ever met to be accosted so directly by a commoner child, but Azhar lifted her into his arms with a smile, bringing her up so he could look into her eyes.

“Zubiya Stormbringer, you’d better not say such things. You see, most of them are actually very friendly people. Look, Prince Elis here looks peaceful, does he not?”

He turned to make her look at Elis.

The little girl narrowed her dark eyes at him. “Are you going to put stones on Azhar Sunwing’s feet and keep him on the ground?”

“No,” Elis said, bemused by the fact that she addressed him so directly, but relieved as well. He’d rather if people here treated him without too much consternation and deference. With his knights, he’d always been one amongst many, too. “I want to live on this ship with him.”

“Oh,” she said, dangling her feet where she sat on Azhar’s strong arm. “I would rather live on a ship than on the ground, too. I guess it’s good that you are up here, then.”

Azhar put her back on her feet. “If that question is cleared up,” he said with a grin, “I’ll show Prince Elis around now. Thank you all for coming. I’m certain you’ll see more of him, but he’s mine for now.”

The ambiguity of those words caused some whistling and laughter and even Elis forgot his worry for the safety of them so high up in the air as blood rushed to his head. It did not help that Azhar placed a hand between his shoulder blades to move him through the crowd.

“Your people seem comfortable with you,” Elis noted slowly.

“Do they?” Azhar shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Your brother did keep the court at bay today, didn’t he? I thought it might be for the sake of ceremony.” He shook his head. “We are not so many as you. From what I’ve seen, I’d say my entire people would fit into a couple of your cities. Also, those who live on the Stormbringer are naturally a little closer to me. It’s difficult to avoid each other on a ship.”

“I’ve met a lot of lords and ladies who have had no trouble at all avoiding people who live in the same castle,” Elis said quietly.

Azhar chuckled. “It might be a difference in our cultures, too,” he admitted. “Come. I won’t show you every deck, we’d be here all night, but I’ll give you a quick overview.”

He was moving towards a broad opening in the iron ground that revealed a staircase which led them down into the bowels of the ship. On the first landing was a row of mechanical elevators, their chains rattling as they moved ceaselessly. Azhar waited and then jumped into an elevator as it came chugging by. Elis swallowed as he staggered on the moving platform, too.

“Do these not stop?”

“There are levers at the side to make them stand. We do it for the old and sick, but it takes a while! Most of us simply jump inside and out again as we please.”

Elis nodded his head. It was not difficult, if he was honest, but unusual to him, and he did not like that it looked very easy to get squeezed to death between groaning metal plates and chain links.

“You’ll get used to them, but you can use the stairs, too, if you’d like.” He pointed his forefinger at the ground. “Down in the very bottom of the ship is the machine room, above it storage. The floors above that are mostly housing, that’s half the ship right there. The market is on top of that, and the temples and places of worship over them. There’s gun decks interspersed – the cannons you no doubt have noticed. The soldiers also live there. Two docking stations cut across several of the decks. They’re called the Soldier’s Port and the Merchant’s Hatch.” Azhar moved his hand to gesture outside, where a long, broad hallways was passing by. A few women were dancing around a man playing a wooden string instrument. Elis heard the insistent murmur of many voices. “The main deck – that is the deck under the upper deck – has taverns and other places to go amuse yourself. Above that is the upper deck, with the steering wheels and more ports. The wounded and sick are kept in tent shelters at the bow of the upper deck, too. That way, illness cannot spread through the bowels of the ship. I don’t know much about these things, but the healers say the wind carries it away.” He touched Elis’s elbow before he jumped out of the elevator. “And this is our deck. This is mostly more housing.”

“You live directly under the taverns?” Elis said, unable to hide the consternation in his voice.

Azhar laughed. “Of course. Someone’s bound to be awake there at any point in the day or night. If an attacker with knights in tow tries to make their way down to my deck in secret, they will be seen.” He grinned. “I’ll admit my parents had their chambers with the priests, but I like to be close to the upper deck in case I’m needed, and I enjoy being around people more.”

What he said made some amount of sense, though by what rumours were going around about Azhar, it seemed to Elis that there were different reasons he liked the taverns to be close. However, he was only said to be a young man who liked to have his fun with lovers, which was not a terribly uncommon vice in a handsome man of twenty-four. He could have been a drunkard or someone who dragged unwilling people to bed, so Elis thought it could be much worse.

The hallway Azhar led him down was hung with many coloured fabrics. Shoes stood in front of closed doors and small, private shrines against the walls, with little figurines of the gods sitting in nests of incense and dried leaves. He’d only seen the like once before, on a ship – boat – that Azhar had brought to visit the court in Mellinkirk. However, while the way the dolls were carved looked strange to him, he recognised their companion animals, their signature weapons, their signs. It was a little familiarity in a wholly unfamiliar place.

“This is where I live,” Azhar said, rapping with his knuckles against a door that was decorated with sashes of red and silver; but to Elis’s surprise, he passed the door by and instead rounded a corner, weaving through a throng of people to eventually come to a halt at the end of a narrower hallway.

“This place is always busy, but you needn’t worry about noise. Your chambers are in the quietest corner I could find on this floor, at the very end. You’ll barely even hear the engines keeping the ship going, either, since most of the pipes are on the other side of the deck.”

“My chambers?” Elis echoed.

“Yes. You have three rooms, one to sleep and two to do with as you please. I hope that’s enough. I know you probably had more at home, but space is precious on ships.”

“Of course. I just heard that for that very reason, your people don’t split chambers between spouses.”

The lowborn families down on land didn’t, either, but married nobles almost always had separate chambers.

“Yes, that is true, but I thought it would be nice if you could have your own space. It is what you are used to, yes?”

“Yes,” Elis admitted. “However, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“We’ve had empty rooms, anyway, so don’t think I kicked anyone out. People move frequently between ships in the fleet,” Azhar explained as he reached into his pocket. “Be that as it may, I’ve wanted to give these to you this afternoon, but there was no time!”

What he placed into Elis’s hands were three solid iron keys.

“Since everybody can walk in and out, it’s important to keep the doors shut. Now I want you to open yours, though.”

Since he looked so excited about the prospect, Elis decided to set aside the discussion. If it was his husband’s will, it was surely meant to be a wedding gift, and squabbling about it would be more troublesome than simply accepting it.

The three locks where set right into the machinery of the door. He opened them up and found that the luggage that he had sent ahead had been neatly stacked against the wall of the mostly empty room he walked into. Other than that, there were some shelves with nothing on them and pillows piled around a table, which Elis recognised to be a place where he could greet guests. Wine and food had been laid out and Elis noticed that the small border around the edge of the table was there to keep them from falling off if the ship lurched. Through a few round windows, he could see the light blue night sky.

“The servants will help you unpack if you wish, but I told them not to touch your things before you hadn’t given them the go-ahead,” Azhar said, walking in behind him. “You can open the windows, but the wind is always sharp up high, so make sure not to leave any lose papers on your desk if you value them.”

The desk he’d mentioned stood in the room to the right, which was only separated with a curtain that had been pulled aside. To the left, through another open doorway, he saw a bedstead of the Samaian type, the mattress laid directly on the floor. Elis thought it was probably for the same reason that the shelves were all close to the ground, since the moving ship could sent a human falling as well. There was a smaller, closed door in the bedroom, which he suspected led to a washing room. It was probably a luxury to have his own in a communal space such as this.

“If you want to move furniture, it has to be unscrewed from the floors, but that’s no trouble, we do it all the time. It does look very bare, I know,” Azhar said, “but if you pay a visit to the market, you can find most things you need, I’m sure. Just tell the merchants you are my husband and the payment will be taken care of. All that you’re lacking from down below, well, we can get a boat to gather that if you tell us where.”

“This is more than enough already,” Elis assured him. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“It’s just a few rooms. I hope they’ll be your home soon.” Smiling, Azhar lowered his head, his braid falling over his shoulder as he did so. “The day has been long. I heard at the feast that you and your brother were up before sunrise preparing for our arrival! I think it’s time that I leave you alone.”

“Ah,” Elis just made.

It was their wedding night. Samaians did not have differing traditions here, so that could not be the reason that Azhar was getting rid of him so early. Aside from that, Azhar was not known to push a willing companion off his bedstead, so the fact that he didn’t even seem remotely interested in Elis in that regard stung. He did not expect this to be a love marriage and hadn’t deluded himself into thinking that Azhar would ever grow as stupidly fascinated with him as Elis had been with him long before the betrothal was set, but he had hoped that they could at least indulge in the pleasures that husbands did. It would have been a way to get closer to Azhar. Elis was no brilliant seducer of tales, but he knew he was at least skilled enough to show a man a good time.

However, pushing would have felt impertinent and it was not how Elis had been raised. Aside from having his own magnetism, Azhar was not much like Elis’s brother – much brighter, much easier to be around –, but being around his brother had prepared Elis for this; he’d long been the hanger-on to a man more important than himself who had control over his destiny. If Azhar did not wish to sleep with him tonight, or any night, if he wished to keep their rooms separate and their lives perhaps just so, he would obviously bow to his wishes like he had always bowed to those of his twin, who had from childhood days taken to his role as future leader.

Azhar reached under his kaftan again. “Oh, and here are the keys for my chambers,” he said, holding an iron ring with another three keys out to Azhar, as heavy as the first set. “I’m rarely around when I’m not sleeping, but I figured you should have them. Feel free to come over if you get bored here, too. Even when I’m not there, I have things that might be of interest– books, old maps, a collection of dice that my father disapproved off...” He let the sentence trail off, grinning.

“Thank you,” Azhar said.

He meant it. While the disappointment was undeniable, he knew that this was not a position many would have dared to complain about. To have a husband who wanted to give him a comfortable place to live and all the material amenities of his position was a lot more than many who were given into an arranged marriage where provided. He would even say there were enough people who would have been happy to avoid sharing the bed with their spouse altogether. Besides, if he made Azhar angry on his first night, Morris would rightfully be furious with him once he came back to Mellinkirk. It was really not so difficult a task he was asked to do here: just keep quiet and listen. He knew how to do that.

“Sleep well tonight. I will fetch you in the morning,” Azhar said before he turned to the door.

-

Sleep did not come easily to Elis that night, though the bed was soft and comfortable and the movement of the ship easy to ignore after a few hours. He spent some time unpacking in the light of bright gas lanterns that had been provided for him, watching their circles swing gently back and forth.

Once the sun winked through the round windows, there was a knock at this door. He went to open the three locks and found Azhar standing in front of him. He was dressed in the robe his people called the thwab, a long garment under which they wore loose trousers. Most he’d seen were simply the colour of the wool from which they were spun, but his was light blue and stitched with white patterns of clouds around the seams, and adorned with marble buttons that he’d opened wide over his collar. The complicated web of gold and gems in his hair had been replaced by a simpler, yet no less flattering one with a pendant of the sun hanging right over his brow.

“You’re already up and dressed, Prince Elis?” Azhar asked, grinning. “I figured I would have to throw my poor new husband out of bed.”

“I tend to rise early,” Elis said, which was not a lie. The fact that it was not the reason he was awake right now was unimportant.

“Lucky you! I don’t if I can avoid it,” Azhar said, with laughter that turned into a yawn. “My advisors wish I did. However, today I’m needed at this hour, since the gods have no mercy on me. It seems that the Brightcloud had an engine failure. I’ll have to go over there, make sure everyone’s safe, arrange for transport to a mountain haven and repairs...” He trailed off as he seemed to go through a list in his own head and looked contrite. “It could take me a few days.”

“I can accompany you,” Elis offered. “It seems like the sort of thing I should learn how to deal with if I am to live here at your side.”

“I’d be glad to have you along in the future, but not on your first day!” Azhar said. “Find your feet on the Stormbringer first. After all, if you see one of our ships in such poor condition, you might feel apprehensive about staying in the air with us!”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Elis said.

It was supposed to be a joke, however dry, but with his nerves pulling taut at yet another rejection, he had not managed to make the tone land. Azhar seemed even more apologetic now.

“I promise you, they are not so bad. The Brightcloud won’t fall, either. We have protections against that.” He clasped Elis’s shoulder. “Enjoy yourself. Have a look at the taverns if that’s something that interests you, or the market. The temples are also never empty in case you are a more godly man than me and would like to talk to the priests and priestesses,” he added with a smile. “If you’d like, you can also enjoy the summer on the upper deck. In a few weeks, it won’t be this warm.”

Once more, some reckless part of Elis wanted to press him on the matter; and once more, he ignored it. He was the one who had followed his husband home, the lesser part of their relationship, and he shouldn’t disobey him so quickly.

“Of course.”

“Wonderful. I promise to return as soon as I can. It was not my intention to leave you so quickly.”

As he spoke, he glanced briefly over his shoulder. Through the open door, Elis saw a young woman gesturing quickly at Azhar at the end of the hallway.

“I will find something to do,” Elis assured him. “Don’t worry about me, Azhar Sunwing.”

Azhar gave him a nod before he turned to hurry down the corridor, his quick steps echoing against the walls. Elis let the door close slowly, thinking that if he had Morris’s talent for wrapping people around his finger, he might have talked his way into coming with him, if not also into Azhar’s bed last night.

With a firm shake of his head, he put the thought aside. He was thirty years now, not near young enough to still be jealous of his brother’s talents, having spent his life cultivating other, if less impressive qualities. Besides, he could not blame Azhar for not wanting to take him directly to the scene of an accident when he was of no use at all there.

Really, he would do well to learn the basics of how these massive machines functioned if he were to ride on them and it would hopefully make him less fearful, too, Elis thought. That would be something worthwhile to occupy himself with until his husband returned, no?

With a task for the time ahead set, Elis immediately felt a little lighter on his feet. After washing himself and getting dressed he left his room, turning the keys in the three heavy locks, and made for the elevators. Though he could have used the stairs, he forced himself to watch the elevators’ fast rhythm, descending and ascending, and then found his moment to jump on to one that would take him deeper into the belly of the ship.

-

Elis’s first stop was the machine room. The soot-covered workers there looked surprised to see him, but as he introduced himself and asked to be shown around, his station fortunately made them amenable to fulfil his wish. He was led to see the engines, big as town houses, watching the technicians who maintained them and the alchemists who kept the fires burning, concoction their potions over stacks over ever-replenishing coal and painting symbols onto the machines; and he met the people who shovelled that coal, mostly young men and women with thick muscle who watched him with great interest. He spoke to them all in turn and learned that there were patterns to everybody’s shifts, which split the day in three so they all had a chance to go upstairs and clear the steam out of their lungs. When he left around midday, the groaning of the machines around him seemed a little less intimidating.

His second stop was one of the gun decks. He’d been a knight most of his life and figured that if there was anyone he’d fit in with on this ship, it would be whoever worked here. The soldiers ignored him at first, apparently not quite sure what to make of his appearance, but Elis was lucky enough to recognise Hadiya, the captain of the barge which had brought them up last night.

After a brief conversation, Hadiya Stormbringer decided she would show him around herself. “I’ve been on this ship for sixty years and keep the soldiers under my thumb for the chief. My parents made me in one of those holes,” she said with a wry grin, pointing her thumb at the small rooms that lined the back of the wide mess hall in which the soldiers gathered. “No one knows the gun decks quite like me.”

It turned out that she had not promised too much. By the time she released Elis, his head was spinning with information about cannons, battle strategies for melee on the differing decks, ship-to-ship combat, and the rearing of soldiers in the Samaian way. Elis did interject in this flow of information at times to be introduced to every person that approached them, and get some much-needed details that Hadiya glossed over. Especially the cannons interested him. They had them on land, but shooting them in the air was a different matter. “It’s a last resort. We don’t want to be raining iron balls down on the ground-creepers – land-dwellers, beg my pardon,” Hadiya said, crouching next to one of the massive cannons with him. “For anything you want to fight that is not a ship, better to take a boat with a light mounted gun. You’ll want to ask Ishraq Windroar about that, though. I can fly a vessel if I need to, but he’s the harbourmaster.”

Since it was late in the evening by that point, Elis put that off for the following day and happily succumbed to exhaustion that night. The next morning, he tracked down Ishraq on the upper deck. He greeted Elis with a pleased smile and immediately introduced him to the complicated mass of steering wheels, even allowing him to use one. Elis hid his nerves behind a veneer of professional interest as he shook hands with the coxes, who watched him with anything between curiosity and suspicion. That done, he got to see all three landing points on the upper decks and the vessels that were stationed there, as well as the stable for the windriders, horse-sized dragons that, as Ishraq explained, the Samaians favoured for messengers and others who needed quick transportation for only one or two people.

When Ishraq had to tend to his duties, Elis took up with his subordinates instead. Ishraq commanded them to show Elis the nuts and bolts of a few of the boats and they allowed him to crawl into the tight engines with them. By the time Ishraq caught back up with him in the afternoon, the technicians challenged Elis to name the parts they had shown him, and Elis actually managed at least half. Considering the doubtful faces with which they had greeted him this morning, it was a welcome improvement, but his success didn’t fully surprise Elis. He had always done best where he could get his hands dirty.

He was still talking to Ishraq about the movements of the fleet over the course of the year on the upper deck when a small boat approached quickly, dispensing Azhar and a few others that Elis hadn’t seen before. Ishraq and Elis both turned to Azhar as he approached them with long steps. His hair and clothes were windswept and his usually clean-shaven face had a shadow of dark stubble growing in.

“You return early, Azhar Sunwing,” Ishraq noted. “Did you work through the night?”

Elis simply bowed his head at him.

“No rest for the wicked, Ishraq! The Brightcloud will run again and no one got seriously hurt in the explosion. We tethered her between Sunwing and Winterbolt for the time being,” Azhar said, looking between Ishraq and Elis. “Did I interrupt the two of you?”

“We were only chatting. Your husband has made sure to collect all the critical information already,” Ishraq said with a small smile. “He has been busy learning about the Stormbringer while you were away.”

“It was only the very basics. I just figured I should know as much as I can about this place, since I am to live here,” Elis pointed out at Azhar’s look of surprise. “Luckily, Ishraq Windroar and Hadiya Stormbringer as well as a few others took some time out of their days to show me around. It was good to get to know them.”

“Well, I know for a fact that if your questions had been too basic, then Hadiya at least wouldn’t have bothered with you,” Azhar said with amusement in his voice.

“They were not at all,” Ishraq said, shaking his head. “Elis Mellinkirk is new to ships, but obviously not to troops, and I think the technicians tolerate him, too.”

Azhar laughed. “That’s the best you can ask of them. I do wish you had taken my offer to relax, Prince Elis, but I guess I cannot keep a general away from the soldiers! Or the boats, it seems.” He cocked his head, folding his arms over his chest. “Really, I planned to take you away for a bit, but since you seem to have worked hard, I wouldn’t want to make your day longer.”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. I’d like to come with you.”

Perhaps he’d been a little hasty, seeing yet another chance for time with his husband slip away, for Azhar chuckled. However, he shrugged and nodded his head.

“I’ll steal him from you, Ishraq,” he said, taking Elis by the elbow, a touch that sent a small shiver down Elis’s spine.

“I’m surprised you know that I am – was a general,” he said, unable to keep the comment in as they walked away together, though he knew he should simply be happy that Azhar did. “I was responsible for requisitions whenever the full army was employed.”

After all, when Morris had been with the army, he’d always been happy to lead the knights himself.

“But you had the command for most of the skirmishes with the raiders at the border in the last ten years, didn’t you?” Azhar said. “I remember we spoke about it when I came to court.”

Elis had also not expected Azhar to remember anything of their conversation at all. So many people had accosted the rare visitor, after all.

“Yes.”

“We’re very well used to these small-scale fights, so we know that though they don’t bring as much glory as the battles the scribes write down, they’re important to keep the enemy at bay.” Azhar shrugged and grinned. “I won’t lie that I asked around, too, as I’m sure you and your brother did to learn more about me. They tell me you proved yourself at command and that you were remarkably quick with a gun, too, which never hurts. I would know, I’m not so talented.” He laughed. “I’m better behind a steering wheel.”

“That seems a valuable talent for someone with a fleet.”

“It’s enough that they haven’t tried to take my title from me yet.”

To Elis’s surprise, they walked past the boats waiting at the upper deck harbour and instead approached the half dozen windriders tied to posts in full gear with their flat leather saddles and bridles, eating mushrooms from trays.

“I guess you haven’t ever been on the back of one of these, either?” Azhar asked as he stopped in front of them.

Elis shook his head as he let his gaze wander over the creatures. Their light blue scales shimmered like crystals and their sharp eyes looked so alert and thoughtful that they reminded him of those set in a human face, despite the fact that were shaped more like those of cats. Long tails lashed the ground behind them and they spread their wings as Azhar approached.

“Would you like to? It’s not a long ride, but we can take a boat if you’d prefer.”

“No, I have been on a boat. I would like to try the windrider,” Elis assured him.

“You really are eager! It’s a good choice, too. I love boats, but nothing built by humans is as agile as these good creatures.” Azhar patted the long neck of one of the dragons before he untied the rope that kept it down and slung it loose around its neck. “Maybe you’ll show me how to ride on a horse one day in exchange.”

“You never have?” Elis asked, surprised even though he knew how much the Samaians stuck to the sky. Azhar did not seem the type to shy away from trying whatever interested him.

“No one ever offered me one! And even I am not foolhardy enough to try to sit on the back of the wild horses we see in the mountains, though I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it,” Azhar said, grinning as he jumped up into the saddle. “For your first ride, it might be best to stay with me if that’s alright with you.”

“I’d prefer that,” Elis said stiffly.

Azhar grinned. “You won’t fall,” he promised.

Elis bunched up the leather of the saddle in his hand to pull himself up behind Azhar, even though he realised that he would have to put his hands Azhar once seated, anyway. When he carefully grasped on to his shoulders, though, Azhar shook his head.

“Better hug me around the waist,” he said. “It’s safer that way if we catch a strong wind.”

“Yes... of course.”

The position left him painfully close to Azhar, his thighs spread around his, the broad, muscular form of his body in his embrace. Luckily Azhar sat in front of him, unable to see the blush spread across his face.

“Perfect. That should hold for the way.”

Elis realised in that moment that, being so happy that Azhar had something planned for them, even if it was just to make up for his absence, he had not even bothered to ask what their goal was.

“Where are we going?”

The last word was half-swallowed as, with a press of Azhar’s powerful legs, the windrider lifted itself up into the air. Involuntarily, Elis closed his arms more tightly around Azhar’s middle. The saddle had no front and no back like those on a horse often did and as the deck grew smaller under them with alarming speed, his heart plummeted into his feet. Azhar, for his part, seemed to have no concerns about it at all. He easily lifted one hand from the back of the windrider to point ahead.

“See these mountains?”

Being so focused on the ship, Elis had not noticed how close they were to a mountain range at all. Cloud-topped, the dark rock rose against the heavens.

“The Old Spears,” Elis said after a moment’s hesitation.

The view from overhead was too unusual to be of any help, but they were really the only mountains close enough to Mellinkirk that they could have reached them at the slow pace at which the Stormrider moved across the sky.

“Well done! Most land-dwellers lose all sense of direction at first when they’re up here,” Azhar called into the wind. “We have gardens on top of them. I thought you might like to see them, since they’re now officially part of the Samaian realm, too. Besides, you’d get to have solid ground under your feet.”

“I really don’t mind the ship!” Elis said, raising his voice to be heard. “One does get used to the movement.”

“I’m glad to hear it!”

The windrider dipped towards a green patch at the side of a mountain and whatever else Elis might have said was pushed back into his mouth by the sudden gust of wind. The hair on his arms stood as he felt gravity shift him against Azhar’s back he and he grasped helplessly at his thwab, but Azhar sat steady like a mountain himself. If he noticed Elis flailing behind him, and it was really impossible that he had not, he was merciful enough not to comment. Instead, he just briefly grasped Elis’s arm.

As the windrider straightened again, Elis was only slowly able to take in anything else but the ground at the foot of the mountain, which looked to be impossibly far away. As his eyes finally allowed him to focus, he saw that they were heading for a broad protrusion in the rock, a patch of meadow that led into a vineyard.

Thankfully, Azhar made the windrider come down quite far away from the edge of the rock. He waited for Elis to unfold his arms before he slid off.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s... something I was happy to have your company for,” he stammered.

Laughing, Azhar slapped his back. “You’ll be a rider in a few months, you’ll see. No screaming or throwing up, I’d consider that a win.”

“Does that happen?” Elis asked doubtfully.

“Of course. Not everyone has your steel heart.”

“I see that part of my reputation has made it back to you, too...”

The wording was too precise for it not to be the case. It was an old joke of his soldiers because Elis strained to remain calm in the face of danger and fear to a point where some thought him callous, and since he was often close-lipped, Elis was well aware he was seen as stand-offish to boot. Elis had gotten used to the jape back on land, but he did not know how he liked it out of Azhar’s mouth. He had a feeling he needed no help to make himself seem unapproachable without it; on the other hand, since his nature had not changed, there was also no reason that the gossip about him wouldn’t have built up in just the same way here in a few months.

“And you’ve confirmed it. I’m impressed,” Azhar said, apparently unaware of Elis’s doubts, as he tied the end of the rope that was looped around the windrider’s neck to a tree trunk. That done, he walked over to the vines, which were heavy with bounty, and plucked a bunch of grapes of such a deep purple they looked almost black.

“Do you have farmers who live here?” Elis asked, eager to change the topic.

“No, but there’s always some boats close-by and they share the work. The people on them are probably the ones who spend the most time on the ground of all of us, though they’ll tell you it doesn’t count, since it’s the mountaintops.” Azhar shook his head as he returned to Elis’s side, pressing the grapes into his hand. “I think we’ve been too proud in the past never to share any traits with your people. There’s no need for it.”

“My people are little better.”

“Perhaps our marriage will change some minds. Here’s to hoping, right?”

When Azhar fell down on the meadow, Elis followed his example, plucking a grape out of the cluster. It was ripe and sweet and with the sunlight on his face and the wind warmer now that it wasn’t beating on him, he could not but admit that Azhar had brought him to a beautiful spot of land. In the distance down below, his home country stretched out to the horizon. He thought he saw Mellinkirk way off in the distance, but it already melted into the hazy line where earth and sky met. Up against the blue was the Stormbringer, and around it the usual cloud of windriders and boats. The ships that had pulled tight for the marriage ceremony above the city had spread out again, though, and it seemed there were fewer of them altogether, as some had already gone their own ways.

Looking sideways, he saw that Azhar had laid down in the grass, leaning on his elbows. He blinked up against the sunlight when he saw Elis’s gaze and smiled.

“A little calmer than the ship, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I do enjoy quiet every once in a while.”

“If the Stormbringer ever gets too much, feel free to grab one of my boats and head out. You’ll soon know to steer one at the pace that you’re learning and you don’t have to worry about being left behind. Stormbringer is too big to escape anyone.” He shook his head. “That’s why she needs so many cannons...”

Elis found himself smiling and plucked another grape as Azhar stretched out in the grass next to him, arms thrown over his head. He was still shockingly attractive, Elis thought, and he had to force his gaze away from the view so he would not be caught staring. The absolute lack of noise up here was actually quite amazing. Even in the city or at camp he had never felt so apart from the world, yet not alone, since his husband was right by his side. As he stuffed fresh grapes into his mouth, Elis enjoyed the sun on him after the two days he’d spent walking and climbing all over the Stormbringer, most of the time in its shadowy bowels.

The uncharacteristic silence drew his attention back to Azhar after a moment, though. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell softly. His hands laid slack in the grass.

Elis wondered if Azhar had hurried up his time at the Brightcloud for his sake, perhaps taken some hours off his night for the purpose as Ishqar had suggested. The idea that Azhar had been anxious to come back to him made his chest feel warmer. He was sure it was because Azhar was a generally personable man who wouldn’t have left any outsider stranded by himself on his ship if he could help it, not because he was so deeply charmed by Elis, but it betrayed a friendly streak that Elis found very easy to like nonetheless.

He finished his grapes and let him sleep, occasionally allowing himself a sideways look at him where he laid between long grass and white flowers dotting the meadow. Azhar only started to move as the sun was starting to sink and the wind grew cooler. When he woke, it was because a blade of grass was tickling his nose. Elis hid a grin.

As soon as Azhar’s eyes were open, he sat with a jump.

“What – did I fall asleep?” he asked, dismayed.

“You looked exhausted.”

“A healthy young man can’t be too exhausted to sit on a meadow!”

“Ishraq seemed to think you returned very early. I figured you had had a busy time.”

Azhar waved the words away. “Don’t listen to Ishraq,” he said playfully, “he worries too much about me. I can’t fault the old man, though. He was stuck with me after my parents were shot out of the sky by those bastards from Orland, after all.” He smiled briefly. “Ah, but he is wise. If you get along with him, it is a good sign for your character, and a bad omen for my folly, since two people will badger me now when I’m silly.” Leaning back on his hands he glanced up at the darkening sky. “But speaking seriously, feel free to not let me get away with such laziness, Prince Elis. I didn’t bring you here so you could be bored on top of a mountain.”

Elis had to smile again. He couldn’t remember smiling this much in weeks.

“It’s no problem, really. This is a beautiful spot.”

“I guess you did get to actually enjoy the quiet without my engine of a mouth running,” Azhar said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Elis said quickly. “I don’t mind it at all.”

“But you do agree I have an engine mouth?”

Elis’s sheepish silence made Azhar laugh.

“It’s better that way,” Elis managed, speaking in honesty. “I’m not much of a talker, but I enjoy listening.”

“People accuse me that I also enjoy listening – to myself.” Azhar grinned. “I would like to listen to you, too, though, so if you want to talk, I’m all ears.”

His ill mood already seemed to have been carried away by the wind. He rose to his feet.

“I do apologise, anyway. We should make our way back,” he said.

He offered Elis, who still sat on the grass, a hand to get up. This time, Elis had enough presence of mind to grab it and pull himself up towards Azhar’s smiling face.

-

The next morning, Elis went early to the upper deck, where Azhar had told him he would be holding the common meeting and that Elis was welcome to attend if he wanted to see what it was like. While Azhar was not yet there, two of the workers Elis had met down in the belly of this mechanical beast recognised him and he was happy to have them chat at him about their work. Azhar smiled when he saw him as he emerged from the stairs into the bright morning light.

“I thought I told you that you should come later! You’ll be here for hours at this rate.”

“I only arrived a few minutes ago. I’m not much earlier than you,” Elis pointed out.

“And you’ll share my suffering? That’s courteous of you.”

This common meeting, as far as Elis could tell, had the same function as an audience that his brother would hold, only a little less formal, with people coming up to Azhar as they pleased while he sat on the edge of the platform at the stern of the boat, the steering wheels in his back looking rather symbolic for the occasion. However, where Morris and most nobles of his status would have dressed up, Azhar still wore the simple hair decoration with the sun pendant he’d favoured since they’d arrived on his ship and was dressed in a lose kaftan in the colours of the rising sun. Elis saw no nobles or soldiers standing to attention, either.

There were concerns raised and pleas brought to him, but some people came just to talk, which made the common meeting stretch well past midday. Elis stuck close as much as he could to better understand the structure of the interaction that happened here. While it seemed to him like there were few rules at first, it became clear that at least it was not the done thing to interrupt each other, and there was a lose order to the way people approached him decided not by rank, but by the time they had arrived.

These details were important to know as the chief’s husband, but concerned him as a personal matter, too, as Elis had his own request to add. Since Azhar had decided to take a step towards him yesterday, Elis thought that maybe it was not presumptuous to think that at least Azhar would appreciate a little reciprocation. After all, he did not want to become the man with the heart of steel again, though he had made sure to think of something that was not wholly frivolous, as Azhar had seemed impressed when he heard of Elis’s work around the ship.

He waited for all the others to finish and for Azhar to jump from his seat before he stepped up to the chief, though. While it was a request, too, it was not one that necessarily needed to be received before too many eyes. Azhar grinned at him.

“You have patience, Prince Elis. That was a long session to sit through.”

“Not at all, it was interesting to get to know your people. However, I did not just come to watch.”

“You’re a petitioner?” Azhar asked, raising his brows. “Very well, though I hope you know you don’t have to wait for me to call a common meeting. What do you want from your chief?”

Elis took a measured breath.

“You said you’re adept at steering boats and ships. I would like to learn how to use their mounted guns. Would you steer a boat for me so that I can practice?”

“Well, it’s exceedingly well-mannered of you to come and ask for work,” Azhar said, grinning. “I’d love to see you in action, so this is an easy request to grant. We’ll have supper and then we can go – unless you’re needed by someone else?” Azhar looked around with a smile. “It seems people are taking to you.”

“I am lucky they were welcoming, yes, but I have no obligations today.”

“I would hope so! You don’t even have a job here. Or did Hadiya rope you into work already?”

Elis could not help but smile. Azhar could seem thoughtless in his exuberance sometimes, but he knew his people well.

“She had a few ideas, but I asked for them.”

“Oh, I need to keep the two of you separate. Otherwise, my husband will disappear into a gun deck somewhere and I’ll never see him again,” Azhar joked, putting his hand on Elis’s arm. “Let’s get some food and then we can take a little stroll across the sky.”

-

Azhar picked one of his personal aircrafts, a narrow boat with a single mast and a steering rudder. Elis kneeled down by the bow to inspect the gun as the boat lifted into the air. Some boats had a series of guns securely mounted at the sides, but this one could pivot with the help of a hinge and cover a wider area. The moving ones couldn’t fire as hard, as the kickback would have ripped them out of the contraptions that held them, but for a small boat like this they were probably the best option, as more guns would have weighed it down.

A sack of ammunition and powder sat ready for him under the bench alongside wadding and lubrication amd other, smaller parts he would need.

“Your professional opinion, Prince Elis?” Azhar asked.

“I’m not sure I’d go so far as saying I have one.” He ran his hand over the barrel as he picked up the ramrod. “The guns are not too different from the kind one carries, from what I’ve been told.” He touched the pistol at his hip. “Handling it should be no problem.”

“I have an idea how you can practice.”

Azhar adjusted the sail of the ship and made it turn smoothly towards the Old Spears again. They were still passing by them, as the mountain range went on for many miles.

“Are we going to shoot down mountain goats?” Elis asked doubtfully while he lubricated the barrel.

“That’d be a waste of mountain goats, since they’d probably fall before we could collect them. I was thinking about plants, stones, anything obvious enough that I can tell if you hit.”

Elis nodded his head.

“Good.”

“You seem pretty confident,” Azhar said, leaning with one hand on the rudder as he grinned at him.

“I have shot from the backs of galloping horses before, so that part is not new. We will see how I do with the wind up here, though.”

He measured the powder and filled the pan. Perhaps there was a little pride here, too. He did not have many areas in which he shined, but he’d always been a decent shot. Azhar could likely take him in any battle man to man, but here, he might still show him a thing or two.

Again the boat turned, as if on calm water. Azhar had brought them into firing range of the wall.

“How many shot?” Elis asked.

“The flint is new. It should be thirty or so until you have to switch it out.” Azhar throttled the engine, slowing the boat. “You want to try your luck with that small tree?”

Elis followed the point of his finger with his eyes and took aim. The first shot burst against the wall three hands above the tree, showering it in dust. Elis frowned as he adjusted the gun, licked his forefinger and held it into the wind.

The next shot landed, though not quite where Elis had wanted it to go, too high up the stem.

“Not bad!” Azhar called. “How about the moss over there?”

That shot sat immediately. Azhar gave a wordless holler.

“It is a pretty big patch,” Elis said calmly, pulling the gun back to its starting position while suppressing a small smile.

Azhar laughed. “If you say so. Well, if you want a challenge, what about that little black stone on the small ledge?”

This time, Elis had to look closely for what Azhar was pointing out to him. He lowered himself down to be on level with the gun for a moment and narrowed his eyes. The boat moved at a steady speed, much more regularly than a horse thanks to Azhar’s sure hand. When Elis pulled the trigger, the shot pinged against the rock, sending it rolling out of view.

“Gods be damned,” Azhar muttered.

“You can speed up,” Elis answered, turning to him.

“Are you sure?”

Azhar looked delighted with the idea.

“We probably wouldn’t go at such a leisurely pace if we were in a fight, would we?” Elis asked.

“True!”

The engine purred as Azhar put it into a higher gear, holding the rudder steady against the wind while he adjusted the sail with the other hand.

“That red fern!” he decided.

Elis tore the gun around and took a deep, steadying breath, thinking of himself and his gun as an unmoving point.

The fern rustled as the ball tore through its leaves.

“You could shoot a star out of the sky!” Azhar called, laughing, as Elis straightened quickly, equal parts excited and proud. “I think you need to make more requests, Prince Elis. You clearly have good ideas.”

Elis had to chuckle and Azhar’s infectious joy loosened his tongue, too. “You flatter me, but I can only think of one more thing right now.”

“Come on, then! You have won every right to claim a prize today, I think.”

Before he could stop himself, Elis said: “If you don’t mind, I would like to spend a night in your chambers.”

There was a brief moment of silence, or at least just the rush of wind in his ears as Azhar looked at him with wide eyes. The enthusiasm Elis had felt drained away as quickly as water through fabric.

“Truly? I don’t demand it of you,” Azhar said.

“I know.”

Elis was just about to tell Azhar that it had been a stupid thing to say when Azhar grinned like a cat. “You have the keys to my room, do you not? Nothing would stop you from going there tonight...”

-

Elis’s heart beat fast in his chest as he walked down the hallway and his palm around the keys was damp with sweat. He didn’t think he had been this nervous since he had first stumbled onto a small cot with another knave all those many years ago as a green young man, no matter how much he told himself that he was being unreasonable.

After a knock and a responding call to come in, he unlocked the door and stepped inside Azhar’s chambers. They were arranged in a different manner than his own; from the entrance, he could look straight into Azhar’s bedroom, as the colourful patterned curtain before the door had been pulled back with a rope. The rectangle of the doorway framed Azhar lounging back against a massive assortment of fat pillows, completely naked. The hair on his chest, arms and legs and between his thighs was thick and dark. The cock lying in the curls between his legs perfectly matched his broad, tall statue.

Elis’s hand froze on the door as it fell shut behind him. Azhar looked up from a leather-bound book he was reading.

“Good evening,” he said, smiling as he put the volume aside.

“Didn’t you get cold waiting for me?” Elis muttered as he stepped towards him.

Azhar barked a laugh. “I’m lucky to have such a careful, sensible husband, but I hope that’s not the first thought that came into your head when you saw me.”

Elis had to smile at his own lack of charm, too, especially since it didn’t seem to bother Azhar. “No,” he said.

As he stepped up to his bed, Azhar sat up onto his knees in one languid movement and stopped him there, holding his wrist.

“Perfect,” Azhar said, smirking up at him as he ran his hand down Elis’s sides. Even though there were several layers of cloth between his fingers and Azhar’s skin, Elis though he could feel his touch burn through them all. “Stay just like this.”

Elis swallowed as Azhar’s thumbs hooked under his belt. He gave himself a push and finally placed his hands on him as he’d wanted to do for days, mapped the muscle of his back, brushed his fingertips over his braid.

“Can I open it?”

Once more, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Azhar seemed to have that effect on him.

Azhar, who had been nuzzling against his stomach after pulling up his shirt, raised his brows, interest bright in his eyes. Elis had a feeling he was taking notes on what he liked, but he could not at all be worried about that. After all, it meant that perhaps Azhar was interested in doing this again another night.

“Be my guest.”

As Elis carefully pulled the band from Azhar’s braid and let his hair unfold, running his fingers through the strands and the golden threads of his jewellery, Azhar’s mouth moved over the line of red hair that went down Elis’s stomach. It didn’t surprise Elis to see that he was already hard when Azhar pulled down his underclothes; he felt warm from head to toe.

“You even have freckles down here,” Azhar murmured, rubbing his thumb over the juncture of Elis’s thigh and his torso.

His breath brushed against Elis’s cock, he was so close, which Elis suspected was not an accident.

“And all over, I’m afraid.”

“Good, I like them,” Azhar decided before he placed a kiss on Elis’s shaft and dragged his tongue up to the head.

With a shuddering breath, Elis moved his hand to grip tightly onto his strong shoulder, the other winding around a fistful of hair. Fortunately, Azhar’s hair was so long that it left enough give, preventing Elis from pulling it harshly by accident. Judging by Azhar’s smile as he opened his mouth and leaned forward with his whole body, pressing into him as he sucked Elis’s cock into his mouth, he did not seem to mind the touch.

There was too much relief, want, need crashing down on him at once for Elis to believe that he could last long here, especially not as his gaze was fixed on Azhar, noting how his beautiful, full lips grew tight around Elis’s cock. The way he twisted his tongue so quickly around him made Elis wonder if the gods had given him a little of the blood of a snake. He had to give his all not to push into his mouth, but even that did not slow the quick approach of his peak.

“Azhar Sunwing,” he murmured tightly, as he cupped his face, “give me a moment...”

Azhar pulled off, but only so far that the head of Elis’s cock still rested on his lower lip. “Don’t hold back. It will be a long night still and you may be older than me, but you are a young enough man to rise again,” he teased, before he pressed his tongue against his cock and let it slide slowly along his manhood’s underside as he sucked him back in.

Elis’s self-control was not nearly strong enough to deny him twice. After all, he had no doubt at all that Azhar could make him come as often as he wished to. His fingers dug hard into Azhar’s muscle as he spilled himself in his mouth and Azhar eagerly swallowed him to the last drop.

When he sat back on his haunches and licked his lips, Elis was distantly reminded of a lion, especially now that his dishevelled hair resembled a mane so well. He was still admiring him, catching his breath as he did so, when Elis grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him on the bed with him.

Elis quickly pushed his finger under the rim of his boots so he wouldn’t drag dirt onto the sheets, then also slid out of his breeches and undergarments, which were only clinging on around his legs, anyway. Azhar rid him of the rest of his clothing with quick, deft hands, grinning broadly as he had uncovered Elis fully, despite the fact that Elis looked objectively quite unimpressive next to him. His pale skin seemed even more washed out in comparison, and while as a soldier, he had sufficient muscle to fight, he did not have the look of a well-formed sculpture of old like his husband.

Azhar, courteous as always, made no note of it as he pulled Elis into his arms. He could feel Azhar’s hard cock press against his thigh as he embraced him.

Since he did not look like a statue, maybe he should stop acting like one, Elis thought. Somehow, being in Azhar’s bed was still surreal enough to make him flounder when he was not, after all, quite so inexperienced, nor in need of any extra motivation to lie with a man as singularly handsome as this.

He slid his arm around Azhar’s chest and pressed his mouth to his neck, working his way down to his shoulder with small kisses. Azhar made a sound of open delight, running his hand over Elis’s short hair, fingernails scraping gently over his scalp. He laughed when Elis tightened his arm around him and put him on his back.

“Prince Elis Parcey,” he said, in a tone that did not try very hard to sound scandalised, as he tugged Elis’s head closer and pressed a kiss on his lips, “who would have thought it of you?”

“That I can move when tasked to touch a handsome man? I want to say it’s not a feat, but you’re right that many might figure I would walk backwards out of the room,” Elis admitted flatly.

And who knew, perhaps he would have lost his courage if Azhar had not made it so singularly obvious that he wanted Elis here.

Laughing, Azhar wrapped a leg around his, intertwining them, his fingers running down Elis’s flanks. Azhar had been right to tell him not to hold back, since Elis could already feel his cock stir again as the warm, rippling muscle of Azhar’s body moved against him.

Azhar had noticed, too, and there was a glint in his eyes. “That was faster than I expected. Not only a heart of steel, I see...”

The unimpressed look Elis gave him only made Azhar’s grin widen. His other leg wrapped around him, too, and Elis gasped as Azhar flipped him onto his back. With easy confidence, he sat himself down on Elis’s stomach so that his naked backside was pressing against his hipbones.

“Caresses and flattery, too,” Azhar purred, cupping Elis’s bearded jaw. “I think I can get used to this. Say, would you give me that there under the pillow?”

Elis turned his head into Azhar’s palm to see what he was referring to with such an impish grin, digging his hand under the pillow closest to his head. He came away with a crystal vial filled with some sluggish golden liquid that Azhar could well have reached by himself if he had not wanted to make Elis take note of it. The sleight worked, as Elis’s cock now stood fully again, its tip pressing against Azhar’s lower back. He had no idea what Azhar planned with it, but at this point, he was hard-pressed to care about the details of how they came together as long as it happened.

“Very good,” Azhar said, snatching it from his hand to pull the cork out with his teeth and pour some over his fingers.

He handed bottle back to Elis with a wink and, without thinking, Elis reached up and plucked the cork from between Azhar’s teeth to shut the vial. Azhar laughed out loud and Elis flushed, wondering if he’d been expected to do something more exciting with the remaining oil.

“I don’t want it to spill on the bed,” he muttered.

“No, you’re right. I’ve actually ruined too many pillows letting this stuff get everywhere,” Azhar said, rubbing the liquid between his fingers. “And I have enough oil, too...”

He reached behind himself and Elis was distracted by how his body was fully displayed in the lamp-light, the muscles of his core taut, his wild hair hanging down to his waist, his cock standing proudly. He was so engrossed by the image that he jumped when Azhar wrapped his hand around Elis’s cock, his reaction shaking them both.

“Sensitive,” Azhar noted gleefully.

Elis breathed out deeply. “You are dangerous to me,” he muttered, placing his hands on Azhar’s hips and gripping them firmly. “Do you want me to prepare you?”

“Oh, yes, eventually. Right now, I don’t think I can wait, though.”

Azhar licked his lips in a way that should have been too crass, but somehow worked for him, made Elis thrust up against his slick palm. With a predatory look, he bared his teeth in a grin before he slowly dropped his hand to the base of Elis’s cock and lifted his backside. Elis felt his throat go dry. Breathing hard, he grabbed the halves of Azhar’s backside and pulled them apart, feeling himself slide between them before the head of his cock caught at the rim of his entrance. Azhar shifted that last half inch and let his head roll back as he slowly sank onto him, exposing his throat in the process.

Elis could not resist the sight while sinking into Azhar’s body. He hauled himself up and Azhar moaned as Elis shifted inside him, grabbing onto Elis’s shoulder. Elis pressed a heated kiss against Azhar’s throat. It would leave a mark for certain and he should have been sorry, but Azhar distracted him from that thought by capturing his mouth with his own.

Azhar took him easily and started them on an eager, quick rhythm. Briefly, Elis wondered if he should feel jealous of the men who had obviously come before him, but that was all but impossible when staring into Azhar’s golden eyes, tangling his fingers into his long hair and pressing his willing body against his own. He was the one who held Azhar in his arms now, and a firm voice inside his head whispered that he would do what he could to be the only one who would have him from now on.

Elis planted his feet on the bed, which tipped Azhar forward, into him, when his knees rose higher. Perhaps he was not the most charming man, but he had the advantage that he rarely fully lost his head, even with a talented lover in his lap, and he could read in Azhan’s face that he had not expected him to still have the mind to do anything but go with his direction. Elis smiled briefly at him before he met him with a hard, deep thrust and enjoyed the groan he drew from Azhar, and another after. He was loud, but that wasn’t restricted to the bedroom, and Elis found himself quite happy with the discovery as his blood boiled at the sounds.

Azhar’s quick, playful movements still carried enough strength not to be overwhelmed by Elis’s steadier rhythm, but it was not a fight between them. Rather, the way Azhar bounced and writhed in his lap was a friendly challenge as he nipped at Elis’s lips and tightened his muscles around him whenever Elis reached deep inside him, and Elis played along by not letting himself be distracted, keeping fully to his plan. The pitch of Azhar’s moaning changed soon enough as Elis began stroking his cock, and his grip on Elis’s arm grew punishingly firm. Elis held him tight around the waist and pushed him all the way down on his cock, and Azhar came calling his name out loud.

Lasting long after that was not a possibility, especially not as Azhar pressed his tongue into Elis’s mouth. Whatever sound Elis made was swallowed by Azhar as pleasure washed over him.

After he had spilled inside him, Elis allowed himself to fall backwards. With his arm still tight around Azhar, his husband was forced to follow the movement, but did so willingly. He laid limp on him for a long moment before he moved to let his cock slip out of him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then his ear and his jaw, until Elis, smiling, turned his head to kiss him back.

“I think you should come here more often,” Azhar noted.

“Yes,” Elis said, without hesitation, and quite gravely.

As usual, Azhar’s voice had been light, but Elis was beginning to suspect that it did not always mean Azhar did not care, or had no opinion on a matter. This time, he had almost certainly meant to leave Elis an escape hatch. When Elis slapped it shut with his much more decisive tone, Azhar grinned at him.

“Do you want to stay the night? It’s such a hassle to get back into old clothes after sex, I find,” he said, a little more brazen now.

He stretched out next to Elis, back arched, arms laid high over his head, on full display. It was blatantly a reminder of what Elis would keep access to if he stayed.

“It doesn’t take that long to get dressed,” Elis said, amused, as he let his gaze run over him. “And I only have to walk down the hall...”

Azhar groaned, looking close to pouting for a moment. “I forgot that you really do this every night down on the ground in your stone castles. I guess you are used to it.”

“I don’t think I ever slept with anyone in a castle,” Elis said, after a moment’s contemplation. “Besides, I haven’t been married so far. Most people who aren’t married keep their illicit lovers in the same room, or make them leave the castle if the affair is too scandalous. Only very brazen lords and ladies have separate chambers for their lovers, unless their mistresses and misters already happen to be living at court for some other reason.”

“I see.” Azhar rolled over on his stomach, folding his arms so he could lay his head on them and look at Elis. “So where did the prince seduce his lovers, if not in castles?”

“Tents, fields – where no beds which are so comfortable as this one are. Mostly on the dirt ground, in fact,” Elis admitted.

“Ah... I can’t offer ground,” Azhar joked. “Also, I think I would fall flat on my face trying to wear these big, iron prisons your knights move in – and I assume it is knights you bedded. I’m not quite to your taste, it seems.”

“Will you try to make me believe you doubt your allure?” Elis asked, looking him up and down again.

“I’m not so arrogant that I believe everyone falls to my feet if I offer,” Azhar said, grinning.

“But I did,” Elis finished with a pale smile.

Azhar leaned up to kiss him and when he laid back down, Elis lowered his head on Azhar’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

-

When he opened them again, Elis was briefly disoriented, unsure what had woken him. A warm body was pressed against his back, an arm around his waist. The gentle swaying of the ship still disquieted him when he was only half-conscious, and though he’d had only little time to get used to his room by now, the amount of colourful fabrics on the walls and the many swaying lanterns with their flickering lights told him he was obviously not his chambers and yanked him out of the drowsy state he was in, forcing him to engage his mind.

My husband’s quarters, he thought, blearily, as he stared at the dancing shadows on a wall wrapped in stitched satin, smiling briefly to himself.

The ship tilted again, alongside all the shadows. Only one didn’t move. It lifted a slim dark column from which grew a sharper end.

“Azhar!”

Elis shouted as he moved, did both before he thought. Behind him, Azhar jerked awake. The knife that had aimed for his throat slashed his arm instead, leaving a bloody gash. Growling, Azhar threw himself at the robed figure by the bedside and it tried to stab downwards again, but missed as Azhar dodged to the foot of the bed.

The robed figure darted out of the room before the two of them had time to even get to their feet. Cursing, Azhar grabbed a discarded robe that laid over a chest. Elis was already on his feet and kicking into his breeches. The flintlock pistol he always carried was still at his belt.

The iron ground was cool under his naked feet as he ran after Azhar, who was shouting to someone outside to get the guard. Elis followed the flurry of loose robes and long hair as Azhar shot down the hallway, catching up with him at the stairs, which they hurried down side by side. In the distance, the robed figure ran at full speed downwards.

In the middle of the night, most people were either asleep or on the deck above where the taverns were, which the assailant seemed to be aware of. But where could he be going? What floor where they on? As they hurried on in the twilight, the decks seemed to race by, too quickly for Elis to count.

“The Merchant’s Hatch!” Azhar bit out as the man suddenly took a sharp turn into a hallway.

The Merchant’s Hatch was the nickname given to one of the smaller ports of the Stormbringer. Ships carrying supplies floated in and out of it at all hours of the day and night. Even now as it opened before them, he saw people carrying crates and rolling barrels, a few guards milling about.

“Stop him!” Azhar shouted, at full volume. “The one in the black cloak!”

However, the bay that opened onto the night sky let in a sharp wind that carried his voice away and tore the words to pieces. Elis readied the pistol as he ran, but there were way too many people hurrying in every direction – he could not get a clear shot.

The assassin darted between the small ships and bodily slammed a young woman off a speeder boat that was sitting at the very edge of the hatch, ready to drop out into the sky. Luckily, she landed on the ground, but the assassin kicked the engine to life and dove out into the night.

Azhar cursed and stopped short for a moment, whipping his head around, then started running again. Elis followed without asking.

There were several windriders tied to metal poles off to the side. Azhar ripped the curved shamshir from the belt of a guard who was staring at them in confusion and slashed one of the ropes. Elis had no time to be nervous as he clambered behind him onto the back of the hissing dragon.

The dragon flew. Ahead of them, the boat’s engine moved in the night like a shooting star.

“Hold on!” Azhar shouted, and then the dragon plummeted sharply downwards. Elis clutched at Azhar, trying to still breathe.

When he opened his eyes again, they were on level with the boat. However, it was clear that despite Azhar digging his heels into the windrider’s sides, it was only just able to keep up with the engine on full blast. Azhar saw the assassin lean on a lever and suddenly, a few sentences Ishraq had said among the many explanations he had given about their fleet shot back into his head.

“Those boats!” he called. “You have to keep pressing the ignition to keep them running at high speed, right?”

“Yes!” Azhar shouted over his shoulder. “Why?”

“Hold steady!” Elis called.

He wrapped his arm firmly around Azhar’s chest and pulled his pistol again. This was not as secure as handling a mounted gun, and his target was moving this time, but he remembered how he had calculated the wind and the speed when they’d raced along the mountainside.

The first shot hit the side of the boat, but the second burrowed into the assassin’s leg. Elis heard his scream muffled over the wind. The second met his shoulder. The assassin collapsed over the steering console after that, clutching at himself, as the fire of the small engine simmered down. Azhar drove the dragon harder, forwards, until they were at height with the ship. The assassin only raised his bloodied hands in defeat when Elis pointed his gun at him again.

-

“The raiders are getting cleverer. The man says he’s lived here for weeks waiting for a chance to strike. They paid him off.”

While Elis had gone to find clothes as Azhar interrogated their captive, his husband was still dressed in the loose robes. As he fell down on a chair, he threw his long hair backwards over his shoulder.

Elis moved automatically to his side. The prisoner had been left to the physicians for now and while he only had flesh wounds and Elis had not aimed to kill him, knowing he’d be useless dead, looking at the dried blood on Azhar’s arm where the assassin had cut him almost made Elis wish that the wind had made him miss and find a vital spot on the assassin’s body.

“But how did he get in?” Ishraq asked.

Hadiya, who had been with Azhar for the interrogation, shrugged her shoulders. “He claims he waited for an opportunity and tonight, the door was open.”

“That seems unlikely. Azhar Sunwing has slept alone since he was a small child. Why would he forget the locks tonight?” Ishraq murmured. “Perhaps there are other spies? They could have replicated our locks, distributed keys. Another one could try tomorrow...”

“That doesn’t sound like the raiders,” Azhar said, frowning. “A knife-wielding assassin is already subtle for their standards.”

That was about as much of the conversation as Elis caught as, suddenly, a thought cut through him like a sword.

Azhar may not have forgotten to lock his door at night, but Elis could not remember turning the key in even one of the locks. From the moment he had entered the chief’s rooms, he’d only been focused on him.

The shock was apparently plain on his face, because Azhar’s gaze, thoughtfully running through the room as he contemplated the question, caught on Elis and stayed there.

“What is it?” he asked.

Elis wanted to sink into the ground on the spot. He had almost caused the death of his husband because he’d been too busy staring at him with all the mental fortitude of a young man in the first throws of puberty seeing a naked body for the first time.

“Azhar Sunwing, I was the last one to enter your chambers tonight, remember? I... I was distracted,” he said, forcing his voice to be steady. “I deeply apologise. I forgot to lock up behind me.”

“Oh,” Azhar made, lifting his chin out of his palm. “Gods be damned, you’re right, you did enter last! I forgot that with everything that happened. Well, that’s that mystery solved. No raiders smelting keys, at least.”

Somehow, the fact that he did not sound furious made the guilt sitting in Elis chest too heavy to bear without shouting or falling to Azhar’s knees in a display so pathetic it would have shamed Azhar in front of his advisors. With his lips pressed into a tight line, he gave a curt bow and walked out of the door, fleeing down the hallway.

The prisons were situated under the guard’s quarters and held mostly machinery aside from the cells. There was nowhere to run but a small balcony way at the end of the hallway that was also surrounded top to bottom with iron bars. Elis hurried until he had reached it, tightening his fingers around an iron bar as the wind whistled in his ears.

After a few minutes of staring outside into the sky, Elis heard steps behind him. He did not move.

“If I had died because I distracted my husband with my antics to lure him into my bed, it would have been the stupidest way for anyone in my family to go, and I had a great-aunt who stumbled drunken off the side of a pleasure barge,” Azhar said, leaning against the bars next to him. The wind blew through his hair, spread it like a cape.

“It was my fault, not yours,” Elis said tightly.

“It was a mistake. They happen. Usually, no one would touch my door until the morning, so bad luck played the largest part.”

“How are you so calm?” Elis snapped, whipping around. “With how careless I was, you would be within your right to suspect that I have conspired with your assailant!”

“Then I’d never want to conspire with you!” Azhar said, lifting his hands. “You woke me when he swung the blade, and then you hit your shots on our fleeing man where you could have easily pretended to miss them, with the wind and the darkness. I wouldn’t have thought it strange at all.”

Elis opened his mouth and closed it again. The anger burning in his stomach was for himself and it was making it difficult to think straight. He stared out into the night sky again, the ships that floated before them.

“Elis Mellinkirk, I need you to speak, even if you don’t like to. What is going through your head?”

“This is... unacceptable,” Elis said, after a moment of deliberation. “I always thought I was a man who was fastidious and careful in my duties. It’s the one virtue of mine nobody would have found difficult to admit to.” In fact, Azhar had admired it when he had come to find Elis already at work trying to understand the Stormbringer. It was the one entry in his good books. “If I am so mindless and sloppy, what is even left?”

“You forgot to lock a door, you didn’t lead your knights into a deadly ambush.”

“Just my husband.”

Azhar pushed off the bars with a snort and closed in on him. Elis looked up into his golden eyes and suddenly, a truth broke from him.

“I don’t want to lose your trust. I want even more than that,” Elis admitted. “I have been... aware of you for longer than you think. I realise that after visiting our court, you probably would have preferred someone of my brother’s temperament, but I hoped that I could make something of our marriage.”

Azhar gave him a long look before he chuckled. “No offense to your brother, but when the two of us step into a room, there’s not even any space left in it for air. It’s probably better to keep us apart. Besides, his tongue is a little sharp for my tastes. Don’t tell him I said so,” he added with a wink. “He’s hard to ignore, but he wasn’t the only one I met when I visited. I always thought you were interesting because you were so completely different from your twin,” he said. “Did you think I forgot you?”

Elis was silent. He really had at some point.

“When I had you here, all quiet and stern and more reasonable than anyone has ever dared to call me, I thought I was lucky that it had been you – as long as I would not chatter you out of wanting to be anywhere close to me. I won’t pretend I understand every part of you yet, but I enjoy you. Around you, I feel calmer, too.” He grabbed his arm, bowed his head to be on eye level with him. “I forgive you, but I think you know that. Let us forget this and get to know each other better, Prince Elis.”

Elis did not think that he deserved this forgiveness, but he was also too selfish to push it away, feeling his ears burn at Azhar’s words. If he grasped this chance with both hands, perhaps he could still make up for the blunder. Not quite trusting his voice or his possible choice of words, he gave a firm nod.

Azhar looked out into the sky, suppressing a yawn, before he took his hand.

“There are still a couple hours until the sun meets the ship. We should try to get a little sleep.”

There was no suggestion, or even offer, that Elis could retire to his own room this time. Elis followed him.

---

“What is your opinion on horses now?”

Elis reached his hand up to Azhar, who grabbed it as he jumped off the back of the horse. The sun had already sunken behind the walls and towers of Greystone Castle, which sat over Mellinkirk, leaving a light blue summer night sky.

“That I was happy you were holding my reins!”

Laughing, Azhar leaned into him, his arm wrapped around Elis’s shoulders.

“At least horses don’t fly,” Elis pointed out.

“Oh, as if you find the windriders so intimidating now. I think you only feared for your life in the first few weeks...”

Elis raised his brows at his husband, but when Azhar leaned in to kiss him, he allowed it, despite the knights and stable boys looking on; and if he had seen his brother walking out of the gate into the inner courtyard approaching them, with a blatant look of surprise on his face as he found Azhar all over Elis, then perhaps Elis would allow himself that moment of triumph.

“Thank you for lending the horses to us, brother,” he said, when Azhar had leaned back. “I had promised Azhar Sunwing that I would show him how to ride one.”

“They’re magnificent steeds, your Highness. I should say your brother also enjoyed seeing me flounder on horseback, after I have forced him through so many of our traditions and customs,” Azhar joked. “You needn’t have stayed up waiting for us, though.”

“Nonsense, you are my guest,” Morris said, spreading his arms. “Though it seems that for now, my brother is able to keep you entertained. Perhaps we shall reconvene to break fast tomorrow?”

It would have been nice if Morris had sounded a little less incredulous, but Elis found it much more difficult to be annoyed with his brother when Azhar’s hand was still resting on his shoulder and he was reacting to the chance of getting Elis for himself with such open enthusiasm.

“Yes, thank you! We will see you in the morning, King Morris,” Azhar said.

Elis lead the way to his old quarters, which would be kept as they were for now until Morris needed them for a family of his own. He had figured that knowing they would eventually be redecorated would make his heart heavier, even though he’d spent so little time in them as it was; but as he opened the door for Azhar onto the sparsely decorated rooms, he only thought that, barren as they were, they did not feel as much as home as either his own or Azhar’s quarters on the Stormbringer.

“There is a washing room through the door on the right if you want to get the smell of horses off. I asked them to prepare baths for us before we return,” Elis said. “Give me a moment to join you.”

Azhar, who had walked into the middle of the room to take a look, craned his neck to see what Elis was doing at the door. Unlatching the dusty beam from beside the door had, after all, produced a loud creak. Elis brought the beam down in front of the door, barring it. Usually, this precaution was only taken when one expected peasants or rival nobles to storm the castle, so Elis had never needed to do it, but tonight it should serve him well.

“There are guards in the hallway!” Azhar said, bemused.

“Just a precaution. Or are you expecting visitors?” Elis answered with a shrug.

Azhar chuckled. “No, I suppose not. I do want to keep you to myself here,” he said, waiting for Elis to join his side. “I really expect you to bring the door down from the Stormbringer next time we visit, just so you can lock it.”

Elis hummed and touched the six keys that hung around his neck on a thick leather band under his shirt. He only took them off in bed, after running his fingers over each of them to remind himself of whether he had locked the door, be they in Azhar’s room or his own.

“You do know I am not angry, yes?” Azhar said after a brief pause. “Still not.”

“I know,” Elis said. It had been two months since the attack, after all, and though he hadn’t been able to believe Azhar at first, his behaviour had proven him true. “I still think maybe it’s dangerous for you that you are the sort of person who would not be angry, even if it benefits me. But since you are too kind... I will keep you safe.”

Azhar’s delighted smile was still as beautiful as the first time he had seen it.