Hi Friends!

I need to thank you guys so much for your support and understanding! I really appreciate it!

Thanks for your continued interest in this story and thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favs.

And hey, I didn't take a month to update this time :)

I did rush to publish this though, so please forgive any mistakes. I wanted to put it up before I went to bed tonight.

Enjoy!

"What is the meaning of this?" Derek thundered as he shoved open the doors to Charles's personal office and stomped across the hardwood floor.

The king, who had been enjoying a bowl of warm oats with berries sprinkled on top, dropped his spoon and looked up from the piece of parchment he had been reading. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he locked gazes with his infuriated guest. "The meaning of what?" Charles asked smugly as Raphael, who had been standing over his shoulder reading along with him, straightened up and gripped his sword.

Derek's scowl grew deeper at his host's self-satisfied grin, "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Charles pushed his bowl out of the way and gestured to the chair in front of his massive desk. "I assure you, Derek, that I have no idea what you are talking about."

Too angry to even think about sitting down, the visiting king crossed his arms and glared down at the other man. "Don't toy with me, Charles," he growled. "I'm not some naïve young kid and I know when someone is trying to pull my strings."

The other king didn't deign to respond. He just raised his eyebrows and tented his fingers.

Derek huffed out an exasperated breath of air, "Why did you only give me back the women? Where are the men that you took captive?"

Charles stopped trying to hide his grin and leaned his chin on top of his fingers, "Your men? Well, Derek, your men will not be returned to you today. Let's just say that I will be keeping them for…ah…insurance purposes."

"Insurance purposes? Whatever for?" the young king spat out.

"Look, Derek, we may be working on a truce but we haven't officially achieved one yet. Nothing has been signed – there are no guarantees. Only a fool would lay down all his cards in the middle of the game and I…well, I am no fool," the king gloated.

Derek's eyes squinted in anger – at himself and at Charles. How could he have been so stupid to have thought that Charles would make a fair exchange? "Well I don't play games, Charles. So when will I be getting my men back," he gritted out through tight lips.

Charles chuckled. "You don't play games? Dear boy, didn't your daddy teach you that ruling a kingdom is the ultimate game? Come now…we've started toying with one another the moment I stepped into Quantico almost a year ago. It's not my fault that you underestimated me and revealed your hand too quickly. So, to answer your question…I don't know when I'll be releasing your men. If you're lucky maybe I'll allow you to take them home with you on Monday. But then again maybe not…perhaps I'll send you a few every year until our domination of the western half of the continent is complete. You'll just have to wait and see."

The younger king knew that he had been bested at the moment. So instead of sniveling about his loss he drew himself up taller and uncrossed his arms. "Fine then. Lesson learned, I suppose," he admitted begrudgingly.

Charles chuckled. "No doubt, young man. Now, if you'd be so kind as to find your way out. I've some punishments to dole out to the men you've returned to me and I'd like to do it before without an audience."

Derek crinkled his forehead in confusion, "Punishment? Why would you punish them after they've been held captive for so long? Haven't they gone through enough?"

The maniacal laugh that Charles emitted bounced off the walls and echoed in Derek's ears. "Seriously? Did William really neglect your education that much? You watched your father run Quantico for years and yet you took nothing away from him?"

"My father was a cold-hearted man that ruled his kingdom with fear. I tossed all of his so-called lessons to the side and run my country by doing the opposite of what he did – and we are more prosperous because of that," Derek said, defending himself with conviction.

Charles raised his eyebrows, "So you say…but you have no tangible proof of your decisions yet, Derek. You've only started to rule. The consequences of the choices you've made over the last few years haven't made themselves known. Come back and talk to me in another five years and we'll see if you're land is as prosperous as you think it is."

The visiting king's responding words were never heard due to a loud knock at the door. "Enter," Charles called out, standing up from his chair.

The doors behind Derek opened wide and revealed two Georgian knights flanking a familiar man, Carl Buford. The old knight looked haggard and worn down compared to the two men he stood in between. His hair had grown out since he'd been in captivity and it was knotted in clumps. His body was thinner than it was before, the cushion of fat around his waist was now gone and his once rotund belly had receded.

Derek turned around and took in his sworn enemy. He immediately felt a slight surge of triumph when he took in the man's physical appearance but it quickly flitted away when he saw a twinkle of mischief in Carl's brown eyes. Undaunted by Buford's devious look, the proud young man turned back to his host and said, "While I feel as though we have much more to speak about, I think I'll leave our conversation where it lies for now and let you get on with your punishments."

"Yes, let's plan on having our midday meal together and then perhaps we'll spend the day out on the bowling green. I hear you have quite a good arm," Charles said, dismissing his guest.

Derek nodded, "Till then." He then promptly spun around and made his way out of the room, but not before shooting Carl a gloating smirk.

As soon as the neighboring sovereign had left the room Charles sat down at his desk and gestured to his men to bring Carl forward.

The old man was shoved forward brusquely, causing him to stumble as he lurched forward into the center of the room. Charles held up his hand as a signal that the knight had been brought forth far enough, halting the trio in their tracks.

"Ahhh…Sir Buford…are you ready to hear your fate?" Charles asked, straight to the point.

To his credit, Carl's face did not falter at the ominous words that came out of the tyrant's mouth. Instead he bowed low and said obsequiously, "I submit myself to your will, Your Majesty. I know that my performance in Quantico was disappointing and I readily acknowledge that before you here and now. Beyond a doubt I deserve a fitting punishment for allowing your conquest to slip through my fingers. I only ask one thing of you before you send me away to my deserved doom."

Surprise lit up the king's face, "You can't possibly be asking me a favor."

"No…Your Grace. Not a favor. Just a moment of your time is all I request," Carl entreated.

"Whatever for?"

Sir Buford cleared his throat and dared to glance up from his stooped position. "Throughout my time of imprisonment with the enemy I was able to gather some intelligence. I would like to impart this to you now before you silence me forever."

Charles crossed his arms and smirked, "Are you trying to make one last bid for your life? Because I'll tell you right now that whatever it is that you have to tell me, won't prolong your existence even by a breath."

"I wouldn't have thought otherwise," Carl admitted graciously.

With a great huff of air Charles waved his hand, "Then out with it. What is it that you think is so important that I need to know? Because it had better be something that will aid me in negotiations what that twerp that I had successfully vanquished and now must deal with, thanks to your incompetence."

Sir Buford could hear the impatience in the king's voice and quickly launched into his tale before the autocrat could change his mind.

The mid-morning sun was shining brightly into the king's chambers through the many arched windows carved into the stone wall. Spencer, bored out of his mind at being cooped up in the same room for the past two days, couldn't resist opening the closest pane of glass and letting the fresh air into the room.

A burst of cool air immediately infiltrated the stuffy chamber and wrapped the young man up in its frosty tendrils. Instead of shivering from the sudden contact of the bitter wind, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, relishing its ability to awaken his dulled senses.

Longing for more contact with the fresh air, Spencer pulled at the chain attached to his collar, trying to maximize its length. Once the golden links were stretched as far as they could reach, he climbed up onto the small window ledge and scrunched his body into the frame. Satisfied with his new seat, he tilted his head back against the stone and enjoyed the peace of the moment.

As the scent of the morning dew slowly penetrated his nostrils, the genius found his mind wandering off to happier times and joyous memories. Like that time he had pulled Derek down into the frigid lake water and then he left him there stunned as he galloped away on his horse. Of course, his husband had chased after him and caught him in the barn, toppling him over into the hay and almost kissing him.

Spencer sighed as he thought about how it was after that exhilarating moment that he had started to ponder his feelings for Derek and pined after the love of his life.

Coincidently, it was at that instant that his husband's signature laughter permeated the air from down below.

Spencer cracked open his eyes at the sound and trained them on the rose garden that was located below the king's tower.

There, beneath him, was his dashing mate and a few of his good friends. It looked like they were headed out for a stroll with Prince Tobias. Spencer smiled at the sight for he knew that while they looked like they were out innocently enjoying their day, secretly they were plotting his rescue.

Of course, the only reason he was privy to this information was because the lovesick prince had filled him in about his clandestine meeting with Derek and how they had already started planning Spencer's escape.

Another raucous laugh drew Spencer's attention out of his thoughts and straight into his lover's eyes. He watched as a soft smiled graced Derek's face once their eyes locked. The captive king sat up straighter and risked a little wave. The mighty sovereign flashed him a toothy grin and curled the fingers of his two hands into a heart shape.

The kidnapped king was about to flash the signal back to his partner when the door to the bedchamber slammed open with all the fury of hell.

Wide-eyed and scared out of his mind, Spencer twisted his body around in a tangle of limbs, causing him to tumble out of the window and crash to the floor. He didn't even have time to think about getting up when the chain attached to his collar was tugged viciously, dragging him across the coarse floor and right to King Charles's boot clad feet.

The livid monarch's fingers swiftly hooked on his collar and hauled him off the floor, bringing him face to face with Charles's snarling visage.

"Did you really think I'd never find out who you really are, King Spencer?"

And with that ominous question, Spencer felt his heart drop to his feet as his dream of escaping flew out the open window.

Uh-oh...