“Do you really think this will keep folk from thinking we no longer share a bed?”
Naeth bitterly asked.
“It won’t stop them from thinking thusly,” Reijir agreed. “But it’s one thing for you
to have an affair with a fellow blueblood, another thing entirely to be his kept lover. A separate abode will provide that distinction.”
Naeth wondered if there was anything left of his heart to break. “When?” he faintly asked.
“Whenever you wish. The house is yours.” Reijir glanced at the timepiece on his desk. “I’m expected at the Citadel. I must go.” He seemed to hesitate then said, “You may not believe me, but I’m happy for you, Naeth. You deserve your good fortune and much more.”
Naeth watched him as he departed the study. He looked down at the document in his hand.
So it had come to this. Reijir wanted him out of his home.
He shut his eyes and squeezed them tight to keep from tearing up. He would not further disgrace himself by bawling like a babe where others could see and hear. He left the study and hurried back to his room.
He opened the topmost drawer of his writing desk and withdrew the thin leather case in which he kept the documents pertaining to his inheritance. He searched the papers within until he found what he was looking for.
The note bore the address of Syvan’s Rikara residence. Naeth knew his uncle was in town having seen him the other day in the central district. He sat himself at the desk and, taking out a sheet of paper, began to write.
He would not send his note through one of the house servants. There were public coaches aplenty whose drivers doubled as messengers to earn a little more to supplement their wages.
“No one saw you?” Syvan asked.
“No one,” Naeth said. He blew his breath out after the coach driver took his bag from him. “That was a long walk,” he complained, shrugging off his small shoulder pack and tossing it into the coach. “Why couldn’t you have fetched me at the house, Uncle?”
Syvan said, “I thought you didn’t want anyone to notice you were leaving. A large coach would have drawn attention, don’t you think?”
Naeth grimaced then nodded. “Especially Ruomi. I don’t think anything gets past him.” He looked a little unhappily back the way he had come. “I suppose we should go at once. By the way, Uncle, thank you for coming for me on such short notice.”
“I was about to leave for Sidona anyway,” Syvan replied.
Naeth started when the city bells tolled the time. It was an hour before midday.
“Oh, should we have lunch first?” he asked his uncle.
“Nay. We can stop along the way when we get hungry. Let us go.”
*
As they clambered into the coach, a Deir on the other side of the street watched them intently.
One of the Arthanna retainers and Naeth’s unofficial valet, Qiron was returning from
an errand. Taking a shortcut through the block, he was surprised to see his master’s leman coming down the opposite pedestrian path lugging a cumbersome bag to meet his solicitor uncle who strangely enough had a long-distance coach ready and waiting. Ever inquisitive, Qiron stopped to observe them, wondering at the clandestine nature of the meeting and curious why Naeth bore a traveling bag with him.
When they both boarded the coach, however, Qiron suspected something was not right. He resumed his trip back to the townhouse. As he walked, he wondered if anyone back at the house knew of Naeth Orosse’s departure. Judging from the youth’s secretive manner, it was highly doubtful he had properly taken his leave of anyone, least of all Lord Arthanna.
Qiron quickened his pace to a brisk trot and reached the townhouse before long.
Bursting through the servants’ entrance, he ran into a waiting Ruomi who eyed him a little severely.
“Dawdling again, Qiron?” Ruomi pointedly said.
Qiron shook his head and explained, “Nay, Garvas-
tyar
. If I’m delayed, it’s only because I saw something odd over by Marsden Way.”
“And that was?” Ruomi patiently asked.
“I saw Master Naeth on the way back!” Qiron excitedly said. “He boarded a coach with that stiff-necked uncle of his. And he had a traveling bag with him. It looks like they’re going on a long journey!”
Ruomi stared at him. And then he grabbed Qiron by the arm and barked, “Come, let us check his belongings.”
“Or what’s left of them,” Qiron breathlessly said as Ruomi shoved him toward the stairs.
Chapter Nineteen
“So, Rei, where is your pretty distraction today?” Zykriel asked as Reijir lowered his bow after a series of flawless shots.
“Where he belongs,” Reijir replied, eyeing his target with satisfaction. Three arrows stuck out from the very center, a feat no other had managed this afternoon.
Aside from the Arthannas, only Zykriel, Keosqe and Eiren were on hand to join Rohyr and Lassen in the Citadel archery yard. His fierce concentration very much in evidence, Reijir was in better than fine form, and it showed in his near perfect performance.
“And where is that?” Zykriel said. “In your bed?”
Reijir looked askance at his cousin. “At this time of the day?” he scoffed. “More likely he’s looking over his new residence.”
About to loose his arrow, Keiran stopped and looked at him in puzzlement. “What new residence?”
“I signed the west district house over to him.”
“What? Why?”
Reijir swiftly repeated the explanation he’d earlier given Naeth. Keiran glowered at him when he was done.
“You’re really determined to push him away, aren’t you?” he snapped. “Saints above, what will it take to make you stop hurting him?”
“
I’m
hurting him?” Reijir scowled. “It didn’t take much for you to twist things around, Kei.”
“No need to twist anything to prove he’s hurting terribly from your treatment of him!”
“Unless you desire an audience, I suggest you lower your voices,” Rohyr said reprovingly as he joined them. “Besides, you’re ruining everyone’s concentration.” He looked at Keiran. “Who’s been hurting who?”
Reijir groaned and rolled his eyes. Pique Rohyr’s curiosity and you would be lucky to get away from him unscathed.
Keiran threw up his hands in exasperation. “Both of them it seems, though I’ve only seen Naeth’s side of it. Likely the boy did or said something foolish and Reijir saw fit to take offense and—Ah! Veres spare me from idiots and mule-headed younger brothers!”
Lassen came up behind him and laid a soothing hand on his back, massaging him until Keiran calmed down a bit. He regarded Reijir with concern.
“Are you well, Rei?” he softly asked.
Reijir grimaced. That was just like Lassen to ask after one’s state in expectation of an honest answer. And such was the force of that expectation that one could not answer with anything less than complete honesty.
“Nay,” he quietly replied. “Far from it.”
Rohyr frowned. “Why haven’t you told Keiran what happened?” he asked. “That isn’t like you.”
“There are some things that don’t bear talking about,” Reijir said. “Even with one’s closest kin.”
Keiran bristled with indignation. “I’m not just kin; I’m your brother! Your only one, may I remind you?”
“Peace, Kei,” Rohyr said. He studied Reijir worriedly. “Do you truly wish to keep it to yourself or do you literally mean you can’t
talk
about it?” When Reijir looked away, Rohyr softly exclaimed, “Holy Saints, how deep does your hurt run that you can’t bear to speak of it out loud?”
“Deep enough,” Reijir tersely said. “Are you done, Roh? I have business to attend to.”
“Your business can wait.
We
aren’t done yet.”
Reijir stiffened at his cousin’s reference to himself in the plural. The royal “we”
made any request however mild a direct order that could not be ignored. He folded his arms and tensely waited.
“I’ve seen you thrice this week, and each time you’ve grown more sullen,” Rohyr commented. “It’s because of this rift between you and Naeth, isn’t it?”
“He’s too much of a bullhead to admit it,” Keiran said with a sniff. He bit back any further remarks when Rohyr looked pointedly at him.
Rohyr turned his attention back to Reijir. “Perhaps you can’t speak of it,” he quietly said. “But can you tell me mind to mind? I swear it will remain between us.”
“What purpose would it serve?” Reijir unhappily asked.
“To gain you peace of mind?”
“What use is that if my heart is sore?”
Rohyr’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Ah, you admit to more than lust for him then.”
“I wish it were not so,” Reijir murmured. “It would hurt less.” He let out a fretful exhalation. “I never thought he’d be no different from—” Reijir’s jaw hardened, and he barely bit out the next words. “From Darion.”
“Darion?” Keiran gaped at him then all but shouted, “
Darion?
Veres almighty, Rei, how in Aisen can you compare Naeth with that despicable, fork-tongued spawn of a weasel?”
“A fork-tongued weasel,” Zykriel murmured. “Sounds frightful.”
He stifled a yelp when a miffed Keiran punched him in the arm.
Rohyr looked at Reijir searchingly. “Did Naeth do something that reminded you of Darion?” he probed. When Reijir did not answer, Rohyr nodded and said, “That explains much.
Heyas
, you were so stoic, so uncaring after your break with him, we were all led to believe you hadn’t loved him all that deeply. But you wept for him, didn’t you? And you haven’t truly let go of the heartache of your parting.”
Reijir averted his gaze for several heartbeats. When he looked at Rohyr again, his eyes gleamed with unshed tears.
“I trusted him.”
“Darion or Naeth?”
“Both.”
Rohyr stared at him. “Tell me,” he urged. “Now, Rei. Open your mind to me.”
“Let me in as well,” Keiran insisted.
Reijir looked from his cousin to his brother. After a tense moment, he nodded.
Drawing a deep breath, he met Rohyr’s gaze, dropped his shields, and opened up to his cousin. He sensed his brother’s presence in the link as well when Rohyr allowed Keiran entrance into the otherworldly plane that was the meeting place of their minds.
It took but a few deep breaths for the whole sorry mess to be recounted, but when they emerged from their shared trance, their faces told another story. It was as if they had
related and listened to a tale of many days telling.
Keiran stared at his brother for a few speechless moments. When he found his voice, he spoke with a riotous mix of incredulity, understanding and pity.
“Saints above. So that’s why you were so angry,” he half whispered. “He sounded like Darion all over again.”
“He
is
Darion all over again,” Reijir retorted.
“Nay, he isn’t! For Veres’ sake, just because he echoed Darion’s reasons and unwittingly at that, it doesn’t mean they share the same motives. Darion was ambitious.
Naeth has never displayed a desire for wealth or high station. And he’s always shown himself reluctant to be parted from you. He would never leave you willingly, Rei. You’d have to drive him to it.”
“Like I drove him before?”
“That has naught to do with—”
“Damn it all, Kei, he told me he loved me!”
That elicited a collective gasp.
“He did?” Zykriel said with some amazement.
“In no uncertain terms,” Reijir snapped. “Yet a few months later what does he do but inform me that he no longer wishes to depend on me? Not only that, he wants a fortune to leave to children he hopes to have. Children he never mentioned wanting to have with me! He obviously desires more than I’m ready to give. Just like—
like
him
!”
Rohyr caught him by the arms and shook him slightly. “You’re conflating Naeth’s motives with Darion’s,” he gently chided. “You can’t judge the lad based on actions done by someone else twenty-five years ago.”
“And think!” Keiran urgently said. “All the recent talk about you taking a consort? It must have upset Naeth terribly. He was so despondent when we last talked about it. He thought you were close to accepting Namare’s suit. He likely only wanted security for any children he might have. With
you
, Rei,” Keiran pointed out to his startled brother.
“Do you really think Naeth would ever willingly share himself with someone else or have children by anyone other than you?”
When Reijir did not reply, he plowed on. “You mustn’t let the past color your perceptions of Naeth. He’s nothing like Darion. The boy adores the very ground you stand on! He would sooner hurt himself than cause you pain. Surely you know that.”
Before Reijir could respond, Ruomi entered the yard at a run. He came up to them, his expression and unseemly haste imparting trouble in the offing.
“What is it?” Reijir asked.
Panting a little, Ruomi said, “I fear Naeth has run away,
Dyhar
.”
Reijir’s eyes widened in shock. “Again? Wherefore this time?”
“I don’t know, but he was aided by Fiori-
tyar
.”
Ruomi swiftly reported what Qiron told him. Keiran shook his head.
“Why didn’t he fetch Naeth directly from the house?” he questioned in puzzlement.
“Who’s idea was it to meet elsewhere?”
“Likely his uncle,” Ruomi said. “Naeth would have preferred it otherwise if he was carrying more than a small pack with him. Yet Qiron says his bag was large and looked heavy.”
Reijir frowned. “So why would he insist that Naeth lug a heavy bag for four blocks when no one would have questioned his picking him up at the house? Unless it’s because
he doesn’t want it known it was he who fetched Naeth, though why that should matter when…”
He caught his breath, his eyes widening with consternation.
“He said he’s just the family solicitor yet his kinship to Albran Fiori was close enough that he actually spent much time at the estate, acting as his companion. Indeed, the servants deferred to him as if he were their master.
Heyas
! What if he
is
their master?