Val’s pathetic excuse for a truce falls away almost as quickly and as lazily as he had prepared it. What did he truly think of the young king? That he would have Nicolo, once, twice, throw him to the wolves, and then lay down his arms in satisfaction, his cock spent, his kingdom in flames?

It would be laughable if it weren’t so insulting, and Nicolo seems to think so, too, if his growing inclination towards Yusuf were any indication. Still, they have yet to lie together. Yusuf remained true to his word from their very first night. Where a king’s….playthings were normally sent to their own quarters, fascination with the priest had all but subsided, and Yusuf couldn’t find it in himself to trust anyone and leave Nicolo to be on his own. And it certainly didn’t help to have the priest for company every night. Though they sleep in the same bed, Yusuf stayed true to his word, unwilling to touch the priest. Yet, still… the way he blushes is well on its way to driving Yusuf mad. The deep, penetrating husk of his voice when he calls Yusuf highness certainly doesn’t help, either.

As far as the rest of the court was concerned, Nicolo was by all means Yusuf’s property. A gift as known by court gossipers; a cockwhore to his subjects and allies. Yusuf himself did not know what Nicolo was to him. Paramour felt wrong the way it dissolved in Yusuf’s tongue, and he did not like the way it reminded him that he was still unmarried, against his advisor’s wishes.

An idea that felt almost as foreign as Genoa, the way he always seemed to feel Nicolo’s eyes on him.

“The terrain here is suitable,” Yusuf says one day, in one of his innumerable council meetings. They are mere days away from declaring open warfare once more, and he had called upon his allies to strike Val down before he could even consider doing the same.

“Yes, but what of the citadel?” Says his subject. Famir, if Yusuf is even to remember correctly; the names, as the days, blur into one. “I will not have my men walk into a lion’s den.”

Yusuf wants to kick himself. Of course, why had he not though of that?

“You need not be exposed. There are siege tunnels.”

Nicolo is not necessarily quiet, but even then, his voice rings loud and true. Yusuf turns to gaze at him where he stands trying his best to blend into the plush fabric of a bright curtain.

Yusuf had taken to bringing Nicolo along to his various council meetings. He liked having Nicolo under his watch, and Nicolo was still a stranger to all this — he could only trust Yusuf, and seemed to be comfortable to follow the young king around like one of his servants. If anything, it served them both. Yusuf could make sure nobody touched Nicolo, and Nicolo in turn felt safe.

Until now.

Famir is clearly amused. “Siege tunnels, you say?”

“Yes,” Nicolo confirms. “Siege tunnels. Under the citadel.”

“And how would a...priest know of siege tunnels?”

For the first time in days, Nicolo does not cast his eyes down in shame. “It is how I-“ he licks his lips. “Arrived.”

Famir bursts into laughter. Yusuf doesn’t understand what seems to be so funny, and is dismayed at the smirks that surround them.

“Am I to take the word of a cockwhore?”

“I have a name,” Nicolo says, unyielding.

“So does my king,” says Famir. “Yet ‘highness’ seems to suit him better, does it not? Same goes for you, cockwh-“

“Speak one more word, and it will be the last,” Yusuf warns. And, oh, fuck, all eyes are on him now.

“Highness,” Famir huffs, almost like Yusuf is joking and he is just playing along. “I meant no disrespect to you. I was not under the impression your gift could offer counsel. Let alone speak.”

Several other of his subjects laugh.

“Yes,” agrees one of them. “We beseech you, highness. Perhaps you need another to teach him his place.”

“Would you like to join him?” Yusuf instead asks.

The room falls silent as Famir’s smile quickly evaporates. As do the rest of theirs.