"Thank you, my lord," Berkant said, meeting his eyes, holding them as he accepted the wine, aching to taste it on those lovely lips. The gleam in Nadir's eyes seemed to say he shared the thought.
Nadir withdrew and returned to Shafiq, where he poured a cup of the very same wine, offered a sip to Shafiq, and finished the last sip himself, eyes flicking briefly to Berkant once more.
Berkant was on fire.
He and Jorin left, clearing the floor for the next performance, and back in his dressing room, Berkant collapsed, exhausted down to his bones—and not from the fight. Berkant reached up to press a hand to his throat, forgetting in his frazzled state about the collar until his fingers wrapped around warm gold.
The words… the wine… the mischief and pleasure in Nadir's eyes, the intensity of Shafiq's gaze… Berkant wasn't imagining all of that, was he? These delicate palace games were not his thing. He was a fighter, clear and direct.
Standing on legs he wasn't certain would hold him, Berkant went off to get clean, forgetting until too late that he couldn't remove the collar necklace on his own. Well, it wasn't like he was eager to remove it anyway. More and more he liked the weight and feel of it. He would have expected it to be restricting, but all he felt was… comforted. Protected. A strange feeling, when he was the one always expected to do the protecting.
Which he would. If he was fortunate enough to belong to Shafiq, he would protect him, his child, and everyone else in his life.
Clean and dressed and alone in his room once more, Berkant sprawled on his bed and resumed waiting. Would he really have to wait until morning? The tension would kill him. At the very least everyone would wonder why a very loud and aggravated scream was coming from the prisoner hall.
When a knock came at his door, he almost did scream, and nearly killed himself choking on it.
Wondering absently how anyone so stupid could have lived this long, Berkant went to answer the door.
A guard stood on the other side, his markings designating him one who worked directly for Shafiq. Smiling faintly, the guard said, "Master Berkant, His Majesty would like to speak with you, if you'll follow me."
"Of course," Berkant replied, heart jumping into his throat and beating so fast it threatened to pop. He followed the guard through the halls, ignoring the lingering looks and whispers from the people they passed.
Eventually, they reached the wing of the palace reserved for the royal family, where everything turned mercifully peaceful and quiet.
The guard finally came to a stop in front of ornate double doors, where four guards were posted, with more along the entire length of the hall. It would make a lot more sense for Berkant to aspire to a position like this, putting his skills and size to use in a practical, honorable way…
He could not stomach the thought, standing always close to what he wanted but forever unable to have it. No, from the moment he'd seen Shafiq, all he'd wanted was to be as close to him as possible, in every way possible.
Who would have thought this was where he would end up, getting exactly what he wished? All because he'd lost his temper and beaten a child-selling monster half to death. He should be anywhere but here.
The guard stationed at the right door opened it and bowed slightly, motioning for Berkant to enter. Murmuring a thank you, Berkant stepped through, heart pounding louder than ever as the door closed behind him. His fingers twitched to reach up and touch his necklace, but he kept them at his sides as he ventured further into the beautifully appointed room.
The sound of a child laughing drew him up short, and Berkant stared helpless as he saw Shafiq standing with a little boy, not more than two years old, in his arms, babbling avidly in that way children did. There was much of Shafiq in the boy, but also eyes and cheekbones that could only have come from his mother.
Shafiq looked up and smiled at Berkant. "There you are. I meant for Kajan to be gone already, but he is not finished telling me about his day. Kajan, my dove, say hello to Master Berkant."
True to form, Kajan stared at Berkant, then buried his head against Shafiq's shoulder with a softly mumbled 'hello'. Chuckling, Shafiq kissed the top of his head and handed him off to the waiting nurse with a promise he would come and tell Kajan goodnight, though anyone could see that Kajan would be asleep before he even made it to his bed.
When they were alone, Shafiq turned to Berkant. "Your performance was truly magnificent. I am astonished you agreed to do it, but I am forever grateful. I also must say that I like the collar. I like it greatly." His eyes were hot and heavy as they rested on the collar necklace, and then slowly swept the rest of Berkant before meeting his gaze. "I suspect I have a certain concubine to thank for it."
"A certain concubine who needs a stern talking to about reckless behavior," Berkant said dryly.
Shafiq chuckled. "Nadir is enjoying no longer living beneath the heel of his oppressive parents. I'm sure you'll keep him in line, though, my dear Jackal. If I am correct in arrogantly assuming you would like to be mine?"
"Only if that's what Your Majesty wants," Berkant said, heart drumming in his ears, drowning out every thought, every sound, save the man before him. Shafiq was far too fine and beautiful for Berkant's rough touch, but he no longer gave a damn.
"You wouldn't be here alone with me if it wasn't," Shafiq replied, and beckoned him forward. "Come here."
Berkant went gladly, bending slightly as Shafiq reached up and dragged him down further, mouth taking Berkant's in a long-delayed possession. He tasted like wine and smelled like flowers, and felt surprisingly small as Berkant pulled him flush. Everyone felt small next to him, but somehow, he'd expected differently of a king with so much presence.
Shafiq moaned into his mouth, and Berkant answered with a groan, imagining all the delightful things he could do now. Shafiq spread out beneath him, urging Berkant to go faster, harder. Berkant on his hands and knees as Shafiq took what was his, Nadir's cock in his mouth. That pretty little brat riding him while Shafiq watched.
Drawing back, Shafiq nuzzled his cheek before stepping back entirely. "I am delighted and honored to have you as my second concubine, Berkant. I hope you will be happy with us."
"I'm already happier than I've been for a long time. Now where is the little troublemaker?"
Laughter came from behind them, and as Berkant turned, he found his arms filled once more, this time with the small, lithe, and wickedly beautiful Nadir.
