The Summer Palace (Captive Prince Short Stories, #2) by C.S. Pacat EPUB & PDF

The Summer Palace (Captive Prince Short Stories, #2) by C.S. Pacat EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Author Name: C.S. Pacat
  • Book Genre: Adult, Fantasy, Historical, LGBT, M M Romance, Romance, Short Stories
  • Series Detail: Book 2 in the Captive Prince Short Stories series
  • ISBN # 9780987622303
  • ASIN #
  • Edition Language: English
  • Date of Publication: January 5, 2017
  • PDF File Size: 192 KB
  • EPUB File Size: 112 KB

THE SUMMER PALACE
Damen swung off his horse with ease. Newly won ease. The moment his
sandals touched the dirt he felt it thrumming in him. The last time that
he had been here—nineteen, a sapling—it had been a time of exuberant
hunts, enthusiastic sports in the daytime, enthusiastic bedding at night,
tumbling a slave or a young fighter, thrusting about with the eagerness of
youth.

He found it just as he had remembered it, dismounting in the flowerbordered quadrangle. The scent of blossom, of high clear air, of sweet oils,
and the delicate earth, all combined, here where shallow steps lead up to the
first of the entrances, and the first of the arcs of branches that led to the
gardens.

Now Damen felt the bright, heady set of new desires that had had him
breaking from his royal entourage in the last miles spurring his horse to
gallop ahead alone as he wished—as he so giddily wished.

He tossed his reins to a servant, was told, ‘By the east fountain,’ and
pushed his way past the branches of myrtle hanging low over the paths to
the marble flags, to a balconied garden where a figure stood, looking out.
On the horizon, the sea was a sudden open view, huge and blue.

Damen looked too—at one thing only: the breeze playing with a strand of
blond hair, at the cool, pale limbs in white cotton. He felt his own rising
happiness, the speeding of his pulse. Some part of him, absurdly, wondered
how he would be received: the fluttering, enjoyable anxiety of a new lover.

It was nice also to just look, to see him when he thought he wasn’t being
observed, even as the familiar voice spoke in a precise, assured fashion.
‘Tell me as soon as the King approaches, I want to be informed right
away.’

Damen felt a burgeoning delight. ‘It’s not a servant.’
Laurent turned.
He was standing before the view. The breeze that was playing with his
hair was also playing with the hem of his chiton. Laurent wore it at mid
thigh, which was the fashion for young men. In Ios, he had worn only
Veretian clothing, perhaps a testament to his fussy skin that would not
darken, only pink, then burn. This blowy version of him was new, and
wonderful. He hadn’t worn Akielon clothing since—

—the Kingsmeet, and the trial that followed, two days and two nights in
the same tattered garment, sleeping in it, even after kneeling in it at
Damen’s side, until it was wet with Damen’s blood.

‘I was watching the road.’
‘Hello,’ said Damen.
Behind Laurent the glimpse of coastline, where the arrival of Damen’s
large retinue would have been seen, but his not own approach, a single
rider, a speck on a quicker route. Laurent’s cheeks were slightly flushed,
though it was not clear whether it was from summer heat or his admission.
It was wildly impractical to be here.

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