Sword of the Voivode by T.G. Joye

Author:T.G. Joye [Joye, T. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zander Barnes
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Daumantas gazed over at the man he shared his tent with. Cyril’s long, rose red hair spilled around his shoulders, his chest slowly rising and falling with the deep, even rhythm of sleep. His neatly trimmed goatee was beginning to get a little long and untamed, and stubble sprouted in patchy spots across his normally clean shaved cheeks. Daumantas wondered if fate had brought them together. His failed attempt to duel him as the princess of Vodomeria had led them to meet later at Vuretsiv, and in time they had fallen in love.

He gently placed a hand on Cyril’s stubbly cheek. Daumantas had never met a man quite like him; Cyril had no equal in all the realms he’d traveled.

“Are you watching me sleep?” Cyril mumbled. His eyelids fluttered but remained closed.

Daumantas smiled. “Maybe a little.”

Cyril took Daumantas’ hand and kissed his palm. He held the other man’s large hand against his face. “You’re odd,” Cyril said sleepily, opening his eyes.

Daumantas couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m odd? Why? Because I love you?” He dared to speak the words. It wasn’t easy to admit it aloud.

Daumantas felt triumphant when Cyril reddened a little. It was cute, as was the sleep still clinging to him.

“We should probably get up,” he deflected, reluctantly pushing his body off the ground.

Daumantas leaned towards him, and their lips met for a soft kiss. “I know you’re anxious to find your brother.”

The tension in Cyril’s demeanor was palpable. It had been ever-present since he’d received word his family had been attacked and forced from their home. Though they were estranged, Cyril clearly didn’t wish harm on his family, Which Daumantas understood. He hadn’t been home in years because of how his own father had treated him. Yet he still longed for news of his family. Daumantas was always glad to have Svetlana tell him about life in Farizhniya and of their mother and father.

The lovers reluctantly extracted themselves from their humble bedding and exited the tent.

“I think we should go undisguised today,” Daumantas said as he shook out some mundane clothing from his bag.

“Oh?” Cyril rummaged around for some clean clothing in his own rucksack. “Going undisguised as its own disguise? I think I like that idea, especially after yesterday.” He put on his baggy trousers and pulled a simple tunic over his head.

Daumantas dressed himself in a simple wrap robe. It made him appear to be a man of humble means from the Tsardom, but it was elegantly tailored. His taste for finer clothing was something he couldn’t shake from his former life as a tsarevich. His father had insisted on the most rigorous education for his children, but this also came paired with highly pampered and indulgent living.

They ate a simple breakfast, broke camp, and headed back into town. It felt a bit odd to be retracing their steps from the other day. Daumantas saw the priestess from the church glowering at them as she swept the church steps. He smiled and gave her a friendly wave.

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