By Chance Met (5 page)

“That could account for the lack of kinsfolk to turn to,” Reijir agreed. “But as Ash is undoubtedly itching to say, it’s all speculation and therefore useless talk.”

“For the moment, yes,” Ashrian said. “But, who knows, you may turn out to be right and this may prove the means to discover if he has relations after all.”

“Perhaps. Until then, I’ll look after him.”

Eiren leaned forward, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Will you now? That’s rather unusual. It’s never been your wont to help strangers.”

“It’s gratitude,” Ashrian put in. “The boy prevented some idiot of a Deir from cracking his head open.”

“Brained him with a serving tray you said.” Eiren huffed with some exasperation.

“The scrapes you get yourselves into…” He looked from one cousin to the other. “Who started the brawl? Ash?”

Ashrian bristled indignantly. “Why hold me responsible for every fracas that befalls us?”

“Because more oft than not you
are
responsible,” Reijir quipped with a faint grin. He continued before a scowling Ashrian could respond. “Nay, Ash didn’t start this one. But the blackguard who did thought I’d be amenable to being buggered by his whole gang.”

Eiren nearly spit out his mouthful of brandy. “He must have had the wits of a flea to proposition any of you,” he muttered as he wiped his mouth.

“No wits at all, you mean,” Ashrian corrected. “But with his gang backing him up, he likely thought himself irresistible.”

“A dangerous idiot then. You did us all a favor dispatching him tonight.”

Reijir sighed. “I hadn’t planned to. But when I saw what he’d done to the lad, I couldn’t let him live.”

Eiren eyed him wonderingly. “You were enraged, weren’t you?”

It was more statement than question. Reijir shrugged. “And if I was?”

“As I said, it isn’t like you,” Eiren replied. “Young Naeth seems to have succeeded where others have consistently failed.”

“Succeeded at what?”

“He made you care for him, someone you just met and know nothing about and,

strangest of all, had not even thought of bedding. Quite an amazing feat.”

“And in so short a time, too,” Ashrian added with a smirk.

Reijir glared at them. “You said it yourself, Ash,” he flatly stated. “It’s gratitude for his timely assistance.”

“Only you haven’t looked at anyone the way you do him,” Eiren quietly pointed out.

“At least, not in recent memory.”

“What are you talking about?” Reijir asked, a little startled. “What way?”

Eiren calmly explained, “When he awakened, you were so gentle with him. And then he smiled and thanked you and—Saints, Rei, your eyes brightened. You actually smiled back! You were utterly pleased that he responded to you. Now why is that?”

Reijir shook his head in irritation. “I haven’t the faintest notion what you’re suggesting. Verily, he’s just a child in need and I’m simply meeting that need for the moment. I doubt he has what it takes to survive unscathed in Rikara.”

“He’s quite a beauty, too,” Ashrian commented. “I didn’t notice back at the tavern what with all the grime on his face. But after you washed him just now—well, I must own myself impressed. He’d be a prize for any brothel in town.”

“Fie on you to suggest that,” Eiren said reprovingly. “He isn’t some baseborn nobody headed for the cathouse. Didn’t you notice his ear?”

“His ear?”

“His left ear is pierced. That means he’s worn an earring at some time or another.

But lowly commoners don’t wear earrings. Only Deira of means and reputable name can afford them.”

“Or inherit them.” Reijir nodded thoughtfully. “He must be gentry then at the very least. I did think his speech a tad too refined for a slum dweller.” His eyes widened in realization. He mused out loud, “If he hasn’t reached the age of consent, then he’s probably lived a sheltered life up until now. Sweet Veres, he’s a veritable babe in the woods.”

“Prime picking for every scoundrel in the city,” Eiren agreed. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen prey to any of them thus far.”

“He would have had I not returned to his tavern,” Reijir grimly said.

The conversation ended when Eiren’s butler entered the parlor to inform them that Reijir’s carriage had arrived. The three rose to their feet and headed back down to the examination room.

“I’ll come by tomorrow to check on him,” Eiren told Reijir as the Herun lifted the injured youth in his arms. “Give him this after breakfast and again at night before he sleeps. Two drops will do. Three if he can’t rest for the pain.”

He tucked a small bottle filled with a clear rose-hued liquid into the breast pocket of Reijir’s tunic. Reijir murmured his thanks then bore Naeth to the front door.

Just before he descended the porch steps to the waiting carriage, he looked back over his shoulder at Eiren and, with a knowing grin, said, “I fear you still have a long night ahead of you. That fearsome bump Ash is sporting down yonder looks near to bursting. I wager he wants it buried in the right place when it does.”

Eiren started to glower at him, but Ashrian suddenly pulled him back against his body in suggestive fashion. Ylandre’s finest physician blushed to his ears and down to his throat. He broke out of Ashrian’s embrace and stomped back into the house. Ashrian winked at Reijir before hurrying after their flustered cousin.

Laughing softly, Reijir boarded the carriage with his slumbering ward-to-be.

Chapter Four

The servant entered the sun-washed bedchamber, a laden breakfast tray in hand.

Greeting Naeth, he set the tray down on the small table beneath the window overlooking the garden. His appetite roused by the delectable aromas emanating from the tray, Naeth eagerly sat himself at the table.

“Cook hopes you’ll like the fruit compote,” the servant cheerfully said as he quickly laid out the various dishes. “Peaches are really sweet this time of year, and the market had ripe manga from Asmara. Oh, and you’ll surely enjoy the venison sausages. His Grace had them brought over from Losshen just for you!”

“That’s so kind of him,” Naeth shyly replied.

The servant nodded vigorously. “Everyone’s talking about it downstairs,” he said in a confidential tone. “His Grace hasn’t doted on anyone like this since Lord Keiran’s sickly days—before Ruomi took over his care. Quite a turn it was for us, I tell you, but not unwelcome. It’s so nice to see him smiling more often. I mean, really smiling.

You’ve worked wonders on him, Orosse-
tyar
.”

The sound of someone clearing his throat brought the loquacious servant’s narrative to a halt. He looked around a little guiltily at the Deir standing in the doorway. Ruomi Garvas signaled him to depart with a slight tilt of his head. The servant hastily obeyed.

Naeth smiled in welcome at Reijir Arthanna’s household adjutant as the latter entered the room. Tall for a Half Blood of peasant stock and his hair cut short in
enyran
fashion, Ruomi could pass for a True Blood. Furthermore, years of administrative work had diminished the unsightly calluses on his palms and fingers that had been the starkest evidence of the manual labor he had done in his childhood and earliest youth.

“Qiron needs to watch his tongue,” Ruomi commented. “He’s fortunate it was I who heard him and not Reijir.”

Naeth swallowed a spoonful of delicately seasoned creamed eggs. “Does His Grace dislike being talked about?”

Arms folded, Ruomi sat himself on the windowsill. “He’s used to being fodder for public speculation. It comes with the territory when one belongs to the highest House in the land. But he does expect his household to keep their gossiping to a minimum.”

He turned his gaze on the garden below. Naeth noticed his eyes gleam warmly. A moment later, a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Naeth was on the verge of asking what it was Ruomi found so pleasing when voices drifted up to the window. Naeth recognized one of those voices.

It was not unkind, but there was an imperious quality to it nonetheless. Its owner was obviously used to having his way as soon as he demanded it.

“Ruomi-
tyar
, what does Lord Keiran want?” Naeth asked.

“He fell in love with the miniature trees at the Botanical Garden,” Ruomi explained without taking his eyes off Reijir’s older brother. “If he succeeds in growing a few in this garden, he intends to cultivate a whole grove in Althia.”

Naeth’s brow creased in puzzlement. “Miniature trees? How small are they?”

Ruomi turned his attention back to Naeth. “Small enough to grow in pots—some aren’t quite knee-high. I understand it’s a horticultural art form that is much revered in Khitaira. But it’s only now that the Garden keepers have succeeded in growing them this side of the Samaran Sea.” He looked Naeth over. “I trust you no longer feel too much

pain?”

The previous week, Naeth had hunched over in discomfort whenever he sat up. But today he was sitting up straight and only occasionally winced when he shifted his position on the cushioned armchair.

“Just a twinge now and then,” Naeth admitted. “But otherwise, I feel fine.”

“That is good to hear. By the way, how old are you, Naeth?”

“I shall turn twenty-seven this winter’s start.”

“Eiren guessed right then. I’ll have you enrolled at the Rikara Academy.”

About to bite into a sausage, Naeth stopped and stared at him, eyes wide with surprise. “Enrolled?” he echoed.

“Reijir wants you to continue your studies,” Ruomi said. “You haven’t completed secondary schooling, have you?”

Naeth shook his head. “I still have one year to go.”

“I thought so.” Ruomi stood up. “Incidentally, Reijir had me fetch all your possessions from the Vomare. I’ll have Qiron put them away for you.”

“Why did he—?” Naeth looked at Ruomi in confusion. “You make it sound as if I’ll be staying here.”

“You will,” Ruomi replied with a smile. “Reijir was granted guardianship over you yesterday.” While Naeth gaped at him in astonishment, he added, “And you can wear this again.”

He drew something from the pocket of his jerkin and placed it in Naeth’s palm. It was Naeth’s honey-hued suncrystal earring, emblem of his youth and evidence that he was no lowborn street urchin.

“Actually, you
should
wear it,” Ruomi amended.

He departed, leaving Naeth to digest the sudden and utterly unexpected changes in his circumstances as well as the rest of his breakfast.

indeed awakened or if his nightmares had segued into a very pleasant dream instead. For how else could he explain the airy, elegantly furnished bedchamber in which he’d found himself, the large bed on which he lay complete with plump feather mattress, a pile of downy pillows and what seemed like acres of clean crisp sheets, and the fine cotton nightshirt that had inexplicably replaced his rent shirt and worn breeches?

The notion that he was in the grip of a dream quickly evaporated when a Deir attired in a servant’s smock entered the room with a basket of linens, took one look at him, and softly exclaimed in what Naeth construed as relief before hastening out of the room again. Within a few minutes, Reijir Arthanna had walked in accompanied by two other Deira and proceeded to reduce Naeth to speechless awe and disbelief.

The Herun had explained the situation to him then introduced him to his older brother Keiran and his adjutant Ruomi Garvas. But due to the pain of his injuries and the grogginess induced by the medications that made the pain more bearable, Naeth had passed the rest of the day and most of the week that followed in a bit of a fog. Only toward the end of that period did he fully comprehend the good fortune that had befallen him.

And now Reijir Arthanna had assumed guardianship of him.

Naeth was not quite sure what to make of that. After all, it was not as if the Herun was overly fond of him. Though he’d visited Naeth often enough to know the state of his health, Naeth actually saw more of Keiran and Ruomi and even the physician Eiren Sarvan who dropped by daily to check on him. So it puzzled Naeth that a Deir who had taken him under his wing out of a sense of obligation should go a step further and make him a member of his household.

Realization of his new status abruptly caught up with him, and Naeth choked on his milk tea. He was still sputtering when the subject of his musings entered.

“What ails you?” Reijir asked, coming to his side with a concerned frown.

Naeth shook his head, as he coughed up the last of the tea that had gone down the wrong way. “Swallowed wrong,” he managed to wheeze afterward. “I was just so surprised.”

Reijir laid a hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly. “Surprised by what?”

Naeth felt his cheeks grow warm as the Herun stroked his back. He hoped Reijir would construe his reddened cheeks as the result of his coughing bout.

“Ruomi told me that you’re now my guardian,
Dyhar
,” he softly said.

“So I am.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Understand what? You have no family. It would be remiss of me not to take charge of you after the service you rendered me.”

Naeth hesitated before murmuring, “Yes, of course.”

He wondered why he felt disappointed to have the Herun confirm how he felt toward him. He shoved the thought back into the furthest recesses of his mind. It was absurd to feel thusly about someone he barely knew even if he was now that someone’s legal ward.

Reijir motioned to the window. “When you’re done, join me outside. A turn in the garden will do you good. And you’ll get to see Keiran’s latest acquisitions. He’s very excited about them so I advise you to make much of his efforts.”

Naeth’s eyes brightened at the prospect. “Yes, I should like to see them. I just can’t imagine how anyone can keep a tree from growing to its full height.”

“It takes skill and patience,” Reijir conceded. “Keiran has the skill. But Ruomi will have to provide the patience I’m afraid.” He smiled when Naeth broke into chuckles. “It’s good to see you so cheerful, Naeth-
min
.”

Naeth caught his breath at the Herun’s use of the diminutive form of address.