Seeing is Believing (5 page)

"I hate you," Teofil said absently, scooping up his key and tucking it into a pocket.

"You can have tomorrow off," Wystan replied, smirking at him as he picked out another rose.

"I'm not saying yes," Teofil snapped, annoyed that Wystan was assuming that just because he knew who it was … Well, he was running across town
now
, instead of doing the smart thing and waiting until morning. But there was no way he'd be able to sleep knowing it was Rathiel and Cafon.

Wystan stared at him, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"I'm going to hear them out," Teofil said quietly, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair again.

"That's something at least," Wystan accepted grudgingly. "Take tomorrow off either way. I don't want to see you moping about the place."

"I don't mope," Teofil protested, rolling his eyes and casting about for anything he might have forgotten. "Lock the door when you leave."

Wystan nodded agreeably, turning back to the large vase of roses and studying them thoughtfully.

"The white rose was yours, right?" Teofil asked as he reached the front door, pausing in the doorway. He hadn't missed something there, too, had he?

"Yes, Teo. Stop stalling," Wystan ordered, making a shooing motion. Teofil sighed, making a face at his interfering boss before finally letting himself out and heading back to Cafon's house.

*~*~*

Teofil hesitated on Cafon's front stoop, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was late—what if they were asleep? What if it had been a game and they laughed him off their front steps?

What if they meant it, and they really wanted him?

Teofil knocked before he could talk himself out of it. Wystan would never let him hear the end of it if he traveled all the way across town and then didn't even knock.

The door opened after a long, agonizing moment, revealing a sleepy servant.

"May I help you, sir?" The man asked, looking faintly disgruntled.

"I need to speak with his lordship," Teofil said, making sure none of his uncertainty showed in his face or in his voice. He didn't want to be turned away now.

"It's late," the servant said, frowning as he let Teofil in. "He may have retired for the evening."

"I'd be obliged if you could check," Teofil said, offering a rueful smile. "It's important." At least, he thought it was.

"Who shall I say is calling?" The servant asked resignedly, but his expression betrayed nothing when Teofil gave his name.

"Wait here, please," the man directed, sweeping off into the house. Teofil waited nervously, his stomach doing somersaults as the minutes ticked by.

The servant reappeared after a short age, the same blank expression on his face as before. "This way, sir."

Teofil tried to pay attention to where he was being led, but he was too distracted by trying to figure out what he was going to say. However, they arrived too quickly at their destination and then he was being announced to Rathiel and Cafon.

They were in a small study; Rathiel's, if the décor was anything to go by. Cafon was lounging in one of the stuffed armchairs by the desk. Rathiel stood next to him, looking faintly unhappy despite the earrings that glinted from his ears.

The servant departed, shutting the door behind him and leaving Teofil alone with them.

"Teo?" Rathiel prompted, frowning in confusion when Teofil couldn't get his mouth to work. "Is everything all right?"

"Wystan told me," Teofil blurted out, flushing because that hadn't at all been how he'd meant to start the conversation.

Rathiel froze, his hand clenching where it rested on Cafon's shoulder. Cafon just smiled, unperturbed. He stood, and Teofil half-thought he should make a run for it while he still could.

"Come sit," Cafon invited, and Teofil didn't—couldn't—protest as Cafon led him to the companion chair to the one he'd been sitting in. Teofil sat down heavily, silently accepting the glass of brandy Cafon poured for him.

It was their anniversary, Teofil remembered belatedly, feeling even more stupid as Cafon made Rathiel sit in his abandoned chair.

"Now, what exactly did Wystan tell you?" Cafon asked Teofil, a hint of steel in his voice that made Teofil shiver.

"That I was an idiot?" Teofil offered weakly, taking a sip of the too-expensive brandy and nearly choking on it as it burned down his throat. "And that you've been … watching me for a year."

"All right," Cafon accepted, pouring a second glass of brandy and pressing it into Rathiel's hands. "But why are you here?"

Teofil stared at him incredulously for a moment. "To find out
why
."

Rathiel fiddled with his glass, staring at the amber liquid fixedly.

"I don't understand," Teofil continued, frowning at Cafon. "If you wanted—why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you'd react like you did last night," Rathiel said wearily, lifting his head a little.

"That's not fair," Teofil objected immediately. "I didn't know it was you last night."

"Does it make any difference?" Rathiel asked, sounding completely miserable.

"Maybe," Teofil said pensively.
Did
it make any difference? "Why do you want me? You—you both…" Teofil stuttered to a stop, taking a deep breath. "You have each other."

Cafon smiled ruefully, resting his hand on Rathiel's shoulder. "We should be content," he said, looking thoughtful and infuriately calm. "I daresay we would be still, had I not commissioned a ring for Rathiel last year."

Teofil flushed, taking another sip of the brandy before he could say anything stupid.

"I told Rath about you. I don't think you even noticed that I noticed you," Cafon continued, smiling in a completely infuriating way. "Then Rathiel went to your shop—he doesn't trust my taste." Rathiel smiled a little at that. "He recognized you."

"You never saw me," Rathiel said, his crooked smile widening a little. "I had the worst luck. Every time I visited the shop, you were off on an errand or in the back working on some project."

"You knew where I was for a year?" Teofil demanded, scowling. "And you still couldn't let me know you were alive?"

Cafon snickered, looking inordinately pleased about something.

"You were never there," Rathiel pointed out. "I thought a note was a little too impersonal and then this whole mess cropped up."

"Rath had quite the crush on you when you were younger," Cafon imparted with relish, getting a dirty look from Rathiel. "He admitted it, then I said I could see what he saw in you, and one thing led to another …"

"We're not asking for a fling, Teo," Rathiel said, his gaze somber as he stared at Teofil. "It—I wouldn't do that to you."

"But why the secrets?" Teo asked, but that was easy enough to figure out. Approaching him outright would have run him off far quicker. Now … Well, he was considering it, if that said anything about how stupid he was.

"That was my idea," Cafon said, grinning widely. "It seemed fitting, given Rath's courtship of me."

Rathiel rolled his eyes, taking a large swallow of his brandy.

"I'm sorry, Teo," he said, ducking his head to stare at his lap again. "We should have let you be, like you wanted."

"I haven't said no," Teofil said lightly, flushing with Rath's head shot up and Cafon gave him a speculative look. "You never
asked
."

Cafon laughed delightedly, giving Rathiel an impish look before approaching Teofil's chair. Teofil stared at him, nervous because he might like Cafon, but he didn't know him, not like he knew Rathiel.

Cafon gracefully dropped to his knees in front of Teofil's chair, clasping Teofil's free hand between his. He was giving Teofil the most sincere, earnest look that Teofil could ever remember receiving, and Teofil blushed, looking up at Rathiel—for support or to figure out what Cafon was up to, he didn't really know. Rathiel was smiling a little, his fingers curled loosely around his glass of brandy instead of clenched tightly.

"Teofil," Cafon said solemnly, drawing Teofil's attention back to him. "May we court you?"

Teofil stared at Cafon, flushing again under the intensity of the look Cafon was giving him. Had Cafon always looked at him like that? Little wonder that Wystan was laughing at him about this.

"Yes," Teofil answered quietly, hoping he didn't regret this. But it was Rathiel and it was Cafon, and he believed them when they said it wouldn't be a fling.

Cafon cheered, squeezing his fingers tightly and lunging up to plant a kiss on the corner of Teofil's mouth. Rathiel looked a bit stunned, but he was smiling.

"Do you mean it?" Rathiel asked, gingerly setting his glass of brandy down on the edge of the desk.

"I'm not looking for a fling," Teofil said, scowling briefly. "I wouldn't say yes if I didn't mean it."

A shiver of nerves ran along his spine as Rathiel got up and crossed to his chair. He took Teofil's glass from him, setting it aside absently. Teofil was hard pressed to not squirm as Rathiel took his hands and pulled him from his seat, pressing soft kisses to the knuckles of both of Teofil's hands.

"You won't regret saying yes," Rathiel promised, and then kissed him. He tasted of brandy and spice and Teofil thought briefly that the expensive alcohol tasted much better on Rathiel's lips than it had from the glass. Rathiel tugged him close, drawing the kiss deeper, and Teofil sank his fingers into Rathiel's hair, his world narrowing to Rathiel's lips and fingers and the hot sparks of pleasure they were inciting.

Rathiel relinquished him only when they were both breathless, but Teofil barely had time to gasp in a deep breath before Cafon was kissing him, slow and sweet. He didn't taste of brandy at all, but of something Teofil couldn't name because he couldn't think past the way Cafon was so tenderly kissing him.

"Can't breathe," Teo protested breathlessly, breaking away after too short a span of time. Cafon snickered at him, stealing a last, quick kiss before pulling Rathiel in and treating Teofil to the sight of the two of them kissing. It was dizzying and Teofil held tightly to the bit of Cafon's shirt he'd clutched at some point, fighting to clear his head.

"Still yes?" Cafon asked, staring intensely at Teofil but not letting go of Rathiel. Teofil glared at him, releasing his hold on Cafon's shirt to smack him on the arm.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," Teofil told him imperiously, startled into laughter when Rathiel poked him in the side. "Still yes, yes until you get sick of me,
yes
."

"Good," Cafon declared, and kissed him again before he could get another word in. Rathiel's hands braced him, teasing a little, and Teofil hazily thought that maybe the whole secret admirer thing wasn't so bad after all.

Ty was half-asleep when the hand closed over his mouth. He woke up immediately, tensing but otherwise not moving. Blinking into the darkness above his pallet, he tried to make out the person kneeling there, with no success.

"Don't make a sound," came the soft whisper. Unsurprising really, considering the hand across his mouth. His uninvited visitor wasn't a guard then, unless he was a guard doing something he ought not—but the guards never cared how much noise he or they made when they visited him in the dead of night.

He hadn't heard the door open, Ty realized abruptly. The door was a massive, iron sheathed construction that creaked and scraped and wouldn't open more than halfway on its best days. If it had opened, he would have heard it.

"You gonna be quiet?" The man whispered again, impatient for some reaction from Ty.

Ty nodded slowly, shifting upright on his pallet as the man lifted his hand away.

"How did you get in here?" Ty asked, keeping his voice soft. The man slapped his hand back over Ty's mouth harshly.

"Shhh," the voice admonished, the hand slipping away again to get a firm grip on his wrist. "Later."

Ty half-stumbled and was half-pulled to his feet, his rescuer dragging him to the far corner of the tiny cell. It seemed even darker over here, and Ty couldn't help flinching when the man sent a shower of sparks raining to the floor. Seemingly from out of nowhere, but Ty wasn't completely stupid. There was no way anyone could get to his little cell without magical means or a good amount of bribery.

So his liberator was a mage. Ty barely had time to wonder who the hell wanted to see him free and had the funds to hire an illicit mage to do it, and then he was yanked into the dark portal the mage had created in the corner.

*~*~*

They stumbled out directly into a thicket of bushes. The mage cursed loudly, stomping his way out of the vegetation and pulling Ty along. There was more light here, from the moon and the stars, but he didn't get a chance for more than a glimpse of the mage before he was being pulled further into the forest.

"Ari!" the mage shouted, far too loudly and close to Ty's ear. Ty stumbled again, the ground uneven, but the mage didn't slow, just pulled him forward and shouted again.

Twisting his arm free, Ty stumbled back a few steps until his back ran into a tree. The mage turned to him, a frown turning his lips down.