By Chance Met (14 page)
“You’re late,” Keiran tartly said when Reijir came up to Naeth to convey his greetings.
“It’s only a few minutes past the hour,” Reijir mildly protested.
“Even a heartbeat after Rohyr’s arrival is late,” Keiran scolded.
“And how was I to know you were going to invite him?” Reijir retorted.
Standing behind Keiran, Ruomi cleared his throat and apologetically said, “I believe I informed you the whole clan had been invited,
Dyhar
.”
“Which meant Rohyr and Lassen were asked to attend,” Keiran pointed out.
“But you were rather busy sorting out that unfortunate business in Ilmaren,” Ruomi tactfully interposed. “Perhaps what I said didn’t wholly register.”
“Most likely,” Reijir wryly agreed.
“What business?” Keiran asked at the same time. “Those two pitiful excuses for barons?” He looked over his shoulder and glared at Ruomi. “And whose side are you on, Ruo?”
Reijir exhaled and turned his attention back to Naeth.
“Pay him no mind, Naeth-
min
,” he said. “And please accept my felicitations.”
Naeth suppressed a grin lest Keiran glowered at him as well.
“My thanks, Your Grace,” he replied. When Reijir raised his eyebrows pointedly, he corrected himself with a hasty, “I mean, Reijir-
dyhar
.”
“I trust the arrangements are to your liking?”
“Very much, though I never thought Kei-
dyhar
would prepare anything so lavish!”
“For you, kitten, nothing but the best,” Keiran loftily declared. “Now go and enjoy yourself.” He shooed Naeth toward his waiting friends.
*
Reijir let his gaze roam around the hall.
Garlands of greenery adorned by the last blossoms of autumn festooned the walls and windows while thin strands of winter vine dripped in clusters from the ceiling along with jade satin hangings. The wooden tables had been left bare, and the guests sat on cushioned long benches. Underneath, moss-hued rugs shielded the diners’ feet from the cold floor. The country-style informality was further enhanced by the rustic ceramic ware, pewter cutlery and varicolored glassware.
The décor gave the vast chamber the appearance of an elegant greenhouse. With the blazes of three great hearths driving away the chill, it was difficult to believe that snow lay deep on the ground outside and a cold wind whipped its way down the streets and alleys of the city.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” he complimented his brother.
Keiran beamed. “It’s well worth the effort,” he said. “Naeth was so pleased.” He glanced at Reijir. “As you desired him to be.”
“It’s little enough amends for his losses,” Reijir replied.
“His family,” Keiran murmured.
“And his innocence.” Reijir shook his head at Keiran’s stare. “Living with us has stripped him of much of it. And I’m still not certain if that’s good or not.”
“You prefer he learned the ways of the world on the streets of Rikara?”
“Nay, but I wish I could look at him with the eyes of a friend and no further.”
“Thus leaving him burdened by unrequited love.”
“Only lust, Kei. He’s much too young to know what true love is.”
“Ah, and how old were you when you first laid eyes on Darion and fell head over heels in love with him?”
Reijir looked away, his mouth tightening. “Point taken,” he tersely said.
Keiran sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it still angers you after all these years but…” He gave a little huff of frustration. “You know as well as I that Naeth isn’t merely infatuated
with you. Else he would have turned to someone more accommodating long afore this day.”
There was a short fraught silence. And then Reijir glanced at Keiran, smiling faintly.
“I know it,” he softly said. “But I’ll leave it to him to make his intentions clear. If he’s serious about his desire, he’ll come to me unbidden.”
“You ask much of him,” Keiran groused.
“And you likely counseled him to expect it,” Reijir shot back. “He’s still my lawful ward. I want no suspicions of force or coercion to taint whatever relationship we forge between us.”
He walked away before Keiran could respond, taking refuge from his irrepressible sibling in conversation with Keosqe and Gilmael.
Guests where free to move around as they desired and so old friends caught up with the latest news and gossip and new acquaintances got to know each other better.
The hall had a number of sitting alcoves where guests could meet and talk in relative privacy. Naeth did not mean to listen in on any of these private conversations, but as he passed one of the recesses, he heard the honeyed tones of his guardian. Unable to suppress his curiosity or resist the siren lure of Reijir’s voice, he hovered by the alcove entrance, peering in cautiously to see who shared the cozy space with the Herun. He caught sight of the new Ardis of Ylandre and the recently affianced lover of the Ardan’s half-brother seated in comfortable armchairs across from Reijir.
Naeth thought Lassen Essendri
tir
Idana the most ethereal creature he’d ever seen.
But the Ardis’s sweet countenance and almost delicate appearance belied the tensile strength of his slender body, his steely courage and indomitable will. This was a Deir who had outlasted a more seasoned warrior in a duel to the death and thereby won himself a kingly spouse and a consort’s coronet.
Riodan Leyhar, on the other hand, was an interesting combination of fragility and brawn, his cool, finely chiseled features at variance with his husky torso and meaty limbs.
It was said the diplomat had suffered severe burns on his back from his nape down to his waist in the course of doing his duty. But Keiran had hinted more than mere duty had played a part in Riodan’s near fatal sacrifice.
Someone to Reijir’s left extended a bottle to pour more brandy into Riodan’s glass. It was Ashrian Mithani. He shared the one couch in the alcove with Eiren Sarvan.
“So, Rio, when will you wed?” the mahogany-haired noble inquired.
“We haven’t decided yet,” Riodan replied.
“Why? Are you afraid you’ll change your mind?” Ashrian teased.
Riodan shook his head. “I won’t change my mind. But he might.”
This last was almost whispered. Naeth stared at the ambassador, surprised by the faint underpinning of anxiety in his voice.
“He won’t,” Lassen said reassuringly. “He endured too much to risk losing you again, Rio.”
Brown eyes so dark they were almost black turned to the Ardis. Naeth was struck by the uncertainty in them.
“I hope you’re right, Las,” Riodan murmured.
Eiren asked, “Why are you so unsure of Dylen?”
Riodan did not reply at once but stared into the depths of his brandy. “I wronged him once upon a time,” he finally said. “An unpardonable wrong. If Dylen didn’t have it in him to forgive, there would be no making amends for what I did to him. Indeed, I don’t believe I’ve done enough to deserve this second chance with him.”
“You nearly lost your life in order to save his and bear the proof of it on your back,”
Ashrian incredulously said. “Surely that’s more than enough to make up for whatever sin you committed against him.”
Riodan raised a hand to the back of his neck to touch the rough skin barely concealed by his high collar. “A start perhaps but paltry repayment of my debt nonetheless.”
“Sweet Veres, just how grievous can a transgression be?” Eiren remarked. “Besides, if Dylen still held it against you, would he have consented to bind to you? And before the entire court to boot.”
“Heed them, Rio,” Lassen said, clapping a hand on the diplomat’s shoulder
encouragingly. “Don’t let your doubts get the better of you at this late date.”
Riodan bit his lips. “I try not to, but I can’t help worrying that he might have misgivings about binding himself to someone as unworthy of him as I’ve proved myself to be.”
“Once, many years ago,” Lassen pointed out. “Dylen forgave you that sin. ’Tis time you did the same for yourself.”
More curious than ever, Naeth leaned forward, wondering what had nearly destroyed the diplomat’s relationship with the Ardan’s brother beyond redemption. He nearly jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked back to find Dylen Essendri standing right behind him. Naeth felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“You’ll hear better if you join them,” Dylen dryly pointed out.
To Naeth’s dismay, Dylen ushered him into the recess. Reijir looked up in surprise then frowned in obvious disapproval. Dylen gestured for Naeth to sit on the couch between Ashrian and Eiren. His face flaming all the way to his ears, Naeth obeyed but assiduously avoided meeting Reijir’s reproving stare.
Meanwhile, Dylen seated himself on the armrest of Riodan’s chair. He gently regarded his pensive lover.
“I won’t change my mind,
ariad
,” he firmly said. “And if it will set your mind at ease, what say we bind next spring?” Before Riodan could respond with more than the beginnings of a relieved smile, he continued, “As for making amends, who says you must accomplish it fully before we’re wed? You’ll have the rest of our lives together to make it up to me and all the time to be creative about it, too.”
Eiren and Ashrian chortled while Lassen playfully punched Dylen’s arm. Riodan, however, gazed up at Dylen, his eyes gleaming with adoration and gratitude.
“I think I can manage that,” he huskily agreed.
Dylen leaned down and pressed his mouth in a proprietary manner to Riodan’s. As they kissed, someone groaned. Dylen glanced sideways at Reijir.
“Wherefore that expression, Rei?” he chided, his voice edged with amusement.
“Surely you’re no prude to object to lovers showing their affection in public.”
Ashrian quipped, “It isn’t your show of affection he decries, Dy, but that it makes it more difficult for him to refrain from doing likewise.” Before Reijir could respond, he blithely said, “But you’ll persuade him to indulge himself later, won’t you, Naeth?”
Naeth blanched then blushed all over again. He glanced at Reijir to find the Herun glaring in exasperation at Ashrian. Naeth hastily rose to his feet.
“I really should, um, see to my, er, friends,” he stuttered. “They’ll, ah, wonder where I am. I mean, of course they’ll wonder—That is—” Naeth caught himself. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He scooted out of the alcove, pausing at one side of the entrance to catch his breath and wait for his color to return to normal.
“Ash? What were you trying to do?” he heard Reijir crossly ask.
“Aside from letting Naeth know it’s now perfectly permissible for him to proposition you?”
“Deity’s blood!” Reijir exclaimed. “Why is everyone so intent on getting him into my bed?”
“Probably because more than your bed needs warming,” Dylen softly said.
There was a brief but ominous silence.
“If you weren’t a cousin—”
“You’d tell me to mind my own business.”
“Which is considerable enough without meddling in mine!”
There was another short silence fraught with tension. At length, Reijir exhaled and in a strained voice said, “I’m sorry, Dy, that was uncalled for.”
Dylen replied, “I’m sorry, too. And so is Ash.”
“Who says I’m—Ouch! What was that for, Ren?”
“To shut you up. So, Las, I hear your sire was elected First Elder again.”
“For a fourth term,” Lassen said, filial pride warming his voice. “Tal Ereq has prospered under his governance. He’s made some very good decisions for the town.”
“Oh yes! Wasn’t it his decision to let Rohyr have his way with you?”
There was a soft yelp followed by Eiren mildly threatening, “Not another word out of you, Ashrian Mithani, or I’ll take my scalpel to your tongue!”
Naeth smothered a guffaw and strode off to rejoin his schoolmates.
With the ease of one long used to eccentricities, Ruomi obeyed and lifted Keiran in his arms. Naeth chuckled when his schoolmates went all goggle-eyed as the tall
sedyr
carried his smirking master up the stairs.
There was no one quite like Reijir’s older brother, and frankly, Naeth could not think of anyone who could possibly wish to be like him. It took a lot of audacity to live one’s life as unconventionally as Keiran often did. Not everyone could stand up to the critical scrutiny of peers or ignore the speculation that came with being different.
As he returned his attention to the guests, he met Reijir’s gaze. The Herun’s eyebrows rose in silent inquiry. Naeth felt his cheeks warm up, whereupon Reijir quirked a small smile before he turned and followed his brother and adjutant. Naeth counted to ten then applied himself to properly bidding his friends good night.
He reentered the house in time to see the servants coming down the stairs, all headed for the kitchen with soiled dishes, cutlery and assorted drinking glasses. Bestowing a gracious nod of thanks on the butler, he mounted the stairs and entered the corridor leading to the family wing. His bedroom was one of seven chambers that lay between Keiran’s spacious suite three quarters of the way down the corridor and Reijir’s corner apartment at the far end of the passage.
He was just passing Keiran’s door when a strangled cry came through it. Naeth paused in his stride when several lingering moans followed. His cheeks reddened as he recognized the sounds of imminent sexual communion, most uttered in Keiran’s distinctive voice now rendered low and breathy by Veres knew what.
It occurred to him that the couple within had not made it to the bedchamber. The sounds were clearly audible—too much so to have emanated from farther than the sitting room.
Where they lying on the couch before the fire? Or on the thick skins on the floor?
Ruomi’s voice, thick with lust, resounded through the door, ordering Keiran to lie back and spread his legs.