When. The fact that even back then Rohan had said when was the single most reassuring thought Warrehn had chosen to fixate on. After that conversation, he’d stopped trying to escape. He’d followed Rohan’s advice and forced himself to learn social sciences, everything a king should know to rule effectively, single-minded in his purpose. He would go back and he would avenge his family. And he would find and get his little brother back.
It was gutting that he’d accomplished neither. He still had no proof of Dalatteya’s guilt; instead, he was forced to play politics and put up with her presence in his home. And he might have found his little brother, but he had lost him again. Eridan had chosen to leave. He was gone, as good as dead. Members of the High Hronthar were forbidden from being involved in politics, so Eridan returning to the monastery had effectively removed him from the line of succession. He might still be a prince, but it was an empty title now. Eridan had chosen a life with that manipulative, treacherous asshole to a life Warrehn had offered him.
A wave of bitterness and loneliness washed over him.
“Did you expect me to be in a good mood given the situation?” Warrehn said, pushing those thoughts away. There was no use dwelling on them. He was fine on his own. He didn’t need anyone.
“You tell me,” Rohan said. “That was a shitty thing to do to message me that you’ve been drugged and then ignore all my messages and calls. What the fuck, War? What happened? Are you hurt?”
Warrehn glanced at his crotch and pulled a face. “I would have preferred to be.”
“What?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Warrehn explained.
It took him nearly half an hour. It didn’t help that by the end of it, he could barely focus on the conversation, his attention drifting to Samir with aggravating frequency.
When he was done, silence reigned.
“I don’t understand her motivation,” Rohan said, sounding puzzled.
“Me neither. But it doesn’t matter. I just need to get this drug out of my system.”
“I think learning her motivation matters. If we don’t figure out what she’s hoping to accomplish by this, you might play right into her hands no matter what you do. Maybe the drug is just a means to an end and it’s your reaction she wants. Please don’t make any rash decisions, War.”
Warrehn grimaced. He knew Rohan was right. He had no proof that she was guilty of anything. Samir being affected too messed it all up, making her involvement seem unlikely. No matter how badly he wanted to officially accuse the viper of drugging him, he had to think of whether it would play into her hands and how it would look to the public.
I guess you’re an “honest person” only when it suits you.
Warrehn bit the inside of his cheek, hating how much Samir’s words had gotten under his skin. Hating that he wasn’t wrong.
“It’s baffling,” Rohan said. “I just can’t see why she would drug her own son. Is it possible that she thinks you might fall for him?”
Warrehn laughed. “If she’s hoping for that, she’s an idiot,” he said. “That’ll never happen.”
Rohan hummed and fell silent for a moment. “Did you fuck him?”
Warrehn glared at the lake’s still surface.
“Of course I did,” he said irritably.
“And? Was it good?”
“What kind of question is that?” Warrehn said. “Don’t you feel good when you fuck someone?”
“There’s no need to get so defensive,” Rohan said.
His placating tone was infuriating.
Warrehn closed his eyes and breathed slowly. “I’m not being defensive,” he said with forced calm. “I’m just a little frustrated. You would be too, if your balls were blue for nearly two hours. Even talking to you is—hard. It’s hard to focus.”
Rohan made a sympathetic sound. “All right. I won’t keep you, then. I’ll consult with our doctors. Maybe we can find a solution Doctor Jihan has overlooked.”
Warrehn grunted in affirmative and ended the call.
Running a hand over his eyes, he breathed in, and out. “A little frustrated” was an understatement. He’d never been so sexually frustrated in his life. He was a man in his prime with a healthy appetite for sex, but this was ridiculous even by his standards. He was this close to just getting his cock out and jacking himself off out here in the open, potential witnesses and consequences be damned. The worst part was, he knew it wouldn’t work anyway. He didn’t want to just get off. He wanted to stick his cock into Dalatteya’s son, fuck him up, and breed him. The strength of that desire made him angry, disgusted, and frustrated in equal measure.
Rationally, he knew Sirri was right and feeling this wasn’t his fault. While it was true that he had been attracted to Samir prior to being dosed with the drug, it had been a fleeting attraction any healthy man would feel to an exquisitely handsome young thing. He would have never acted on it.