The Rusted Sword Read Online Free

that he heard a quick intake of breath. Glancing down, he saw Moshe's eyes wide, and on him, cheeks flushed.
    Whatever had compelled him, whatever strength … evaporated. With a swallow, he released his grip.
    Moshe narrowed his eyes. Then he looked back at Frederick, who seemed suitably content to stand there with his hands behind his back and a slight smile on his face. "I have prepared the quarters closest to mine," he said, his eyes twinkling.
    "Why?" Raleigh replied, his tone flat.
    "I wish to spend as much time with my two favorite men on this good earth as possible," Frederick replied just as quickly, swinging around so that he was in between Moshe and Raleigh. He flung his arms over their shoulders, beckoning them forward towards the castle entrance. "You must sneak in! The middle of the night, we shall light a fire and tell ghost tales as we did as small ones."
    Raleigh merely grunted. It seemed Frederick did not recall that Raleigh was never wanted for such times.
    At that thought, Raleigh considered Moshe. It seemed he was in good humor, laughing along with whatever banal thing Frederick was prattling on about. It cheered Raleigh to see him happy, and yet it hurt that he could not be the one to put such a dazzling smile on Moshe's face.
    "I swear," Frederick said, "it has been since your wedding that I have seen you two."
    "It has not been so long," Raleigh replied gruffly. Moshe did not comment.
    "Keeping my best friend locked away in that place," Frederick continued, seemingly unhindered by his crass rudeness. "You are too stern a lord, Raleigh. Let me see your darling husband at least once a year, yes?"
    "You see him now, don't you?"
    Frederick only let out an amused hum in response, which had Raleigh gritting his teeth. If he were to be honest in the face of God, he would admit that in his most jealous moments, he had entertained the fantasy of confining Moshe to only Chaylain and its lands, so that he would never be allowed to visit Frederick.
    But then Raleigh looked down at his feet as he walked. Was it not that he had kept Moshe chained, anyway? When was the last time they ventured past his own lands?
    "He could go to Marvle-Dein if that were his wish," Raleigh said, the words rushing out of his mouth as if he had to prove something to himself rather than Frederick.
    He heard Moshe huff. And he felt a fool.
    "I would not come without my lord and husband," Moshe said.
    Raleigh's attention snapped to him. But Moshe was looking ahead as they walked up the steps into the castle.
    Frederick was chuckling softly. "Well, Raleigh. Never will I question that you tamed our dearest Moshe."
    When Frederick hissed with pain at Moshe's pinch, Raleigh almost felt vindicated, but he still heard our our our our, our dearest Moshe. Perhaps this is why he never entertained the thought of coming to Marvle-Dein unless he had to. He was always faced with Frederick's unwavering affections towards Moshe, and it made his gut clench with jealousy.
    Raleigh had won Moshe's devotion, Raleigh had been the one to finally trick and tease, embarrass and fluster, comfort and spoil, defeat and master, love Moshe into accepting Raleigh's ring on his finger.
    And yet, Raleigh could count on one hand how many times Moshe had even brushed a glancing touch on him in the past six months. And yet—Moshe was allowing and inviting Frederick's arm around his shoulders. But twinned with these indigent thoughts came too the rush of self-recrimination. It was not as if Raleigh deserved Moshe's touch; he had done nothing for so long to earn a night with his beloved.
    No sword fights, no races. They had not competed in any form for at least a year … or longer. When had Raleigh damaged his knee? Such weakness—
    "Raleigh," came Moshe's level voice, breaking Raleigh from his spiral downward.
    They were in the main hall, standing next to each other as Frederick walked off to talk to a servant. Raleigh cleared his throat, and his mind, and looked down at