Requiem for a King [MxM]

Epilogue

Jaredeth still felt the tears on his lashes when dawn hit his face the next morning. His bed and his world felt more empty than it had in a long time, and even now he still questioned if walking away was the right decision. He'd been tempted, so tempted, to follow Quintus into his room last night, follow him under the covers, kiss until their lips were raw and do unspeakable things to each other's bodies.

But he couldn't do that to himself, and he couldn't do that to Quintus. And when he'd crashed into his bed soon after, he'd promised himself, it was the last time he'd cry over a man. Avaly needed him, his daughter needed him, and pining after Quintus would only ruin him.

Jaredeth slipped from his bed and crossed to the balcony. Crisp, salty air buffeted his face as he threw the doors open. His kingdom stretched out before him, bathed in the glow of dawn. Fluffy white sails dotted the horizon like clouds as the early boats set sail.

Quintus was on one of those boats. Jaredeth imagined him leaning against the rail, looking back and Avaly—or perhaps forward to his future—his hair tousled by the ocean breeze. Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he squeezed them shut.

No. No more crying.

Jaredeth went through his usual morning routine. Bath, getting dressed, going through his agenda for the day. He'd moved his afternoon meetings up so he could have some quiet time with Jaliah. Then he had to meet with the ambassador to Tandridge to reschedule talks with the Queen, though that probably wouldn't happen for a month or so.

But before all that, he had breakfast with his mother. He wanted to get there early to ensure everything was in place. His mother loathed disorder.

Jaredeth shrugged on his favourite coat and headed downstairs to his private dining chamber. He adjusted the buttons on his cuffs as he banked the corner, and when he looked up, he almost tripped over his own feet.

Quintus sat at the end of the table, the same spot he'd occupied the night before. He held a book in one hand, his gaze flitting across the page as he rocked the chair on its back legs. His cross was leaning against the wall behind him. Stubborn, dark curls fell into his face and a shadow of a beard lined his jaw.

Jaredeth stood there for what felt like an eternity, a thousand questions filling his head and none making it to his mouth. His heart beat a fluttering rhythm in his chest and his legs felt unsteady. He threw out a hand to catch the door frame lest he fall over.

This couldn't be real. He thought last night was it, that he'd never see Quintus again. And yet... Was this some kind of cruel joke? Was Quintus only here to tease him one last time before he disappeared? Emotions warred inside him. Anger, sadness, confusion and... joy?

Quintus finally looked up from his book, set it aside. "Hey." That was all he said, and it wasn't enough of an explanation. For a moment, they stared at each other, neither moving nor speaking. Quintus' face was infuriatingly neutral.

"Is your boat leaving soon?" Jaredeth asked, finally finding his voice. It amazed him how he managed to sound calm despite his inner turmoil.

Quintus shook his head and stood. "It left already. I told Octavia to go on without me."

"I don't understand..."

"Then let me explain." Quintus stepped forward until only inches separated them. "I like you. I like a lot. Perhaps more than I've liked anyone I've shared a bed with. I suck at... feeling my feelings, or expressing them, or doing anything besides being an unbelievable ass."

"But, Quintus, you—"

"You were wrong, your majesty. I can reject my ideals. And this..." He gestured vaguely at the space between them. "Well, it... it doesn't make me sad. It makes me something better than sad. I want to see where this goes. And... I do want to stay." He looked away. "But only if you'll have me. Otherwise, my cross is packed and I'm ready to move on."

Jaredeth stood there and let Quintus' words soak into him. They lifted the anger and sadness from his body and amplified the joy a thousand fold. He promised himself he'd cry no more, but he couldn't help himself. Tears filled his eyes and flowed down his cheeks.

"Shit." Quintus breathed. "I'm sorry. I fucked this up, didn't I? I told Octavia I couldn't—"

Jaredeth all but tackled him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. "No. You did the opposite of fucking it up." He felt the tension ease from Quintus' body, took in his spicy scent. This was everything he'd wanted, a shot at happiness after weeks of turmoil. But there were still logistical issues, his mortality, his duties as King.

There would be plenty of time to sort that out later. For now, Quintus was here, and he was staying. He wanted to stay. And Jaredeth wanted to bathe in the warm glow of this moment.

Quintus returned the hug and rested his chin on Jaredeth's head. "Then you'll have me?"

He nodded. "Of course I'll have you, you unbelievable ass."

"Then that's at least one space in my heart filled."

THE END

For now...