by Ginn Hale
For Javier, that meant an afternoon nap. Kiram joined him, dozing on the bed fully dressed. As they slept their bodies sought each other. When a servant’s knock at the door roused them, they woke with their arms entangled and their faces bowed together. Kiram jerked back guiltily and almost fell off the bed.
“I locked the door, though God knows no one would come in even if it weren’t locked.” Then he raised his voice and shouted towards the dark wood door, “What is it?”
“You instructed that you should be woken before fifth bell, my lord.” The servant called politely through the closed door.
Javier rose and opened the door. “Have water heated. My underclassman and I will both require baths. Oh, and Kiram will need some other clothes to wear to Lady Grunito’s celebration. See what you can find of mine that might fit him.”
“As you wish, my lord.” The servant spoke without lifting his gaze to Javier’s face and bowed deeply before departing to prepare the baths.
“I do have clothes of my own, you know,” Kiram said.
“Yes, but I’d rather to see you in my colors than the academy’s.” Javier sauntered back to the bed and dropped down beside him. “Though if I had my choice I’d prefer you naked.”
“Lady Grunito would find that delightful as well, I’m sure,” Kiram replied.
“Lady Grunito isn’t here right now.” Javier began to unbutton the front of Kiram’s shirt, but Kiram caught his hands. It was the middle of the afternoon and he could hear servants in the nearby rooms.
Javier gazed at him, with both expectation and uncertainty. His hands relaxed in Kiram’s grip. That small submission touched Kiram and he leaned into Javier, kissing his mouth. Javier responded immediately, pushing into the kiss and pinning Kiram back against the blankets. The weight of his body felt good. Kiram was intensely aware of where Javier’s hip pressed against his groin. He pulled Javier closer into that contact. Javier gasped, and Kiram could feel his body tensing.
Another knock at the door broke them apart.
“What?” Javier growled.
“The baths are ready, my lord.” It was the same servant. “And cook was wondering if you will be dining here this evening.”
“Yes.” Javier shoved his hair back from his face and went to the door as Kiram quickly re-buttoned his shirt. Javier wrenched the door open. The servant bowed before him. “Tell cook that Kiram and I will have a very quick dinner here. We’ll be leaving just after sixth bell so nothing elaborate.”
“Will you want the Veloz carriage, my lord?”
“I doubt we’ll need anything larger this evening.”
“Very good, my lord.” Again the servant bowed.
To their mutual disappointment, the staff had prepared a separate bath for Kiram in the green room. Kiram cleaned his injured right arm gingerly and when one of the servants noticed the wound he fetched fresh bandages. Kiram thanked him but felt a little awkward saying much more while he was standing naked in front of a virtual stranger. The servants in the Tornesal townhouse were much more formal than the intimate staff of his mother’s house in Anacleto. Kiram found their constant bowing and lack of eye contact disconcerting.
While Kiram washed, a different middle-aged servant, Javier’s valet if Kiram remembered correctly, laid out clothes and fussed with stockings. When Kiram asked for shaving soap and a razor the valet sent yet another servant to supply them. Kiram rinsed fragrant soap from his hair. Wet, his long curls hung down well past his shoulders. If it got any longer he’d look like he’d become a Bahiim.
“Would you happen to know where I could get a pair a scissors to trim my hair?” Kiram asked.
“Of course.”
The servant didn’t hand the scissors over but instead instructed Kiram to lean his head back and he trimmed Kiram’s hair himself. Spiraling, gold locks littered the floor like wet ribbons. Kiram rinsed himself in the warm water one last time and then dried and dressed in Javier’s spare clothes.
Feeling the dark silk fall against his skin, he couldn’t help but think of Javier’s body and how it had filled this cloth. As his fingers brushed over the delicate mother-of-pearl buttons, Kiram imagined how quickly he could have opened these pants and exposed Javier’s hard flesh. A single glance at the scowling valet’s face deadened Kiram’s arousal. He buckled his belt quickly. He and Javier would have the entire evening after Lady Grunito’s celebration to spend together. He should be patient and keep his mind on other matters for now.
Javier met him on the stairs. Seeing Javier shaved, clean and dressed immaculately, Kiram had to suppress the urge to tousle his glossy black hair or rumple his perfectly fitted clothes. He’d grown so used to seeing Javier tired and dirty that he’d forgotten what a refined image he could present; how he could look every bit a duke.
“You’re staring,” Javier commented and he sounded pleased.
A week ago Kiram would have made some excuse for his hungry gaze but today he simply said, “You’re good to look at.”
At first Javier seemed honestly surprised by the admission and then of course an expression of supreme arrogance settled on his handsome face. Kiram accepted it with amusement. The expression suited him, really.
They ate quickly. Afterward, in the carriage, Kiram chewed a sprig of lemonleaf to freshen his breath after the pork cutlet and roast apples. He tried not to feel nervous. After all he had dueled before hundreds of Cadeleonians only a few days before and today he had been in plain sight as Javier’s squire. Still, watching a Haldiim on the tournament grounds—even cheering for him—would not be the same as socializing with him. How many of Lady Grunito’s Cadeleonian guests would be willing to talk with him?
And if they did, what would he talk about? He could go on for hours about mechanisms but no one considered relentless lecturing a winning attribute in a conversationalist. And what if his breath stank of pig and onion? Kiram jammed more lemonleaf into his mouth.
The carriage stopped and he felt the blood drain from his face. Javier leaned forward quickly and kissed him lightly on the lips. “You’ll be fine.”
A moment later a footman dressed in Grunito red opened the carriage door and escorted the two of them into the vast Grunito townhouse. Red marble and gold inlay dominated the interior. Golden candlelight blazed from glittering candelabras, high above them.
Kiram heard the other guests before he saw any of them. Their conversation and laughter poured over strains of Cadeleonian dance music. From the threshold of the ballroom Kiram gazed down the marble steps and took in the brilliant silk dresses of young Cadeleonian women and the elaborately embroidered coats worn by the men. Their elegant forms reflected across mirrored walls, making the hundred guests appear to be a multitude. Far across the ballroom Kiram thought he caught a glimpse of arched glass doors and a flower garden outside.
When the dance came to an end, a servant announced Javier, calling out, “His Lordship Javier Tornesal, the Duke of Rauma, and… ” he seemed at a loss when he glanced to Kiram but then added, “and companion.”
“Kiram!” Nestor waved from far across the room. It took Kiram a moment to recognize Nestor with his hair powdered black and wearing an elaborate, red velvet coat. He looked surprisingly handsome. Kiram shyly returned Nestor’s gesture. It felt like everyone in the entire ballroom had stopped to stare at him.
Javier and he descended the stairs and crossed the ballroom. They both bowed to Lady Grunito who smiled down at them like a benevolent monument.
Neither the soft gold silk of her gown nor the red ribbons braided through her hair did anything to undermine her imposing figure and with her hair blackened and the gold dust powdered across her skin, she truly did look like a cathedral statue come to life. She thanked both Javier and Kiram for attending and made Javier promise to dance with her once before the evening ended. All around people peered at Kiram. Through the music and rolling conversation he heard soft whispers.
Tornesal’s squire. The Sagrada Haldiim. Heathen.
When they reached Nestor, Kiram felt a wave of relief. Elezar and Atreau were with him as was Morisio. He was back among the Hellions and, oddly, that now comforted him.
They too were dressed formally in brocaded suits and ornately embroidered stockings, though Elezar had failed to powder his brown hair, and like Javier, Atreau had no need of powder. Morissio’s freckles were hidden beneath the glow of gold dust and a heavy sapphire ring glittered on his right hand.
“That’s new,” Javier commented.
“Won it off Lord Urvano,” Morisio replied with a pleased smile. “The card room is through that little door, just past the musicians.” He looked eager to return to the games.
“Fabulous. Now Kiram and Morisio can both count my cards,” Elezar muttered.
Rather than adjourning to the card room, Javier scanned the assembled guests. Couples swirled across the center of the ballroom. Clusters of young girls gathered around older women and matrons, while men of all ages periodically ventured into their midst to banter and seek dance partners. “Has Fedeles arrived?”
“You think his father will allow that?” Elezar asked.
“Lord Quemanor left directly after I won the championship,” Javier replied. “I told Genimo to bring Fedeles here.”
“They haven’t arrived yet but the night is—” Elezar cut himself off short as Genimo, two young women in violet gowns, and Fedeles appeared on the stairs. Fedeles was dressed as elegantly as any of the lords. Yellow vines climbed the deep green silk of his coat, while green vines curled across his golden vest and stockings—but there was nothing formal about his bearing. He danced from foot to foot beside Genimo.
When he caught sight of Javier and Kiram, he bounded down the stairs unannounced and plowed through the dancing couples like some child who knew no better.
“Well, Javier, ask and you shall receive,” Elezar said. He shook his head at the disruption, but his expression was more amused than embarrassed. Atreau put a hand over his face as if he couldn’t bear to witness such poor form. Nestor and Morisio gawked and Kiram imagined his own expression was much the same. Only Javier appeared utterly unfazed by Fedeles’ behavior.
“Lunaluz the champion!” Fedeles threw his arms around Javier and hugged him fiercely. Javier returned the embrace gently. All around people openly gaped at the scene. Even the musicians seemed to lose their concentration and for a moment the ballroom was nearly silent.
“Announcing His Lordship Fedeles Quemanor,” the red-faced servant on the stairs called out. “Lord Genimo Plunado, Lady Aranya Plunado and Lady Nisa Plunado.”
Genimo led the two women, probably his sisters, down into the ballroom and introduced them to Lady Grunito, who pointedly ignored Fedeles’ antics. Others followed Lady Grunito’s example and in a few moments both the music and dancing resumed.
Fedeles turned his affection on Kiram, pulling him into a fierce and wiggly hug. “Kiri, Kiri. I saw you shining like a star on the battlefield.”
“I heard you cheering in the stands.”
“Dancing, dancing. Come dancing with me.” Fedeles sang the words, still gripping Kiram’s hand as he grinned and skipped in place. When he started to drag Kiram towards the dancing couples, Javier interceded.
“You know you can’t dance with Kiram, Fedeles. Let go of his hands.”
Fedeles stuck his tongue out at Javier, but conceded.
“I’ll fetch a girl for you,” Javier said.
“Linya Bayezar.” Elezar indicated a plain-faced girl in a blue and white striped gown. “Her father is up to his eyes in gambling debts. He’ll turn her over to the first rich man who asks according to Lord Urvano.”
Javier studied the girl the way he studied an opponent before a duel. Kiram felt a sudden sympathy for her. He would never have wanted to have Javier turn that assessing glower on him. Luckily, the girl remained unaware that she had fallen under such harsh scrutiny. She and two older women laughed together.
“Why don’t you let me ask her?” Atreau suddenly offered. “She looks kind, and I’m sure if it was put to her nicely she’d allow Fedeles to dance with her without being bullied.”
Javier raised a brow. “Put it to her nicely, then.”
“Always.” Atreau led Fedeles across the room and after a few minutes of conversation with the older women and Linya, Atreau seemed to win the girl over. She allowed Fedeles to lead her out onto the dance floor when a new tune began. Remarkably, Fedeles danced beautifully, though his gaze seemed far away from his partner.
Atreau led one of the older women out to dance. He smiled at her, said something, and she blushed and beamed as if she were a young maiden.
“Wish I knew what he said,” Nestor commented.
“I love prunes,” Elezar suggested.
Kiram laughed despite himself.
Genimo soon joined them and introduced his sisters. Morisio escorted the older of the two girls out to the dance floor while Elezar took the younger. Genimo glanced only briefly to Kiram and then excused himself to dance with a plump young lady. The music swelled and the couples in brilliant colors swirled past.
Several lords approached Javier, complimenting him on his success at the tournament and then inquiring about his lands. One wondered how he planned to handle the new church tithes and another asked if the dry spring had affected his crops.
Javier responded with an air of easy, yet somewhat bored, assurance. His tithes would be paid as they always were, from his own coffers. He had no need to increase his rents on the church’s behalf. The drought had not been long in Rauma and the harvests were plentiful. He smiled and made polite inquiries of his older peers. Throughout, Kiram couldn’t help but note how the conversations always went dead whenever a man mentioned that his niece or daughter would like to meet Javier.
In response to one man who seemed particularly intent, Javier turned to Kiram and Nestor and asked, “Don’t you think Ariz Plunado stands a good chance of winning a master’s circlet in the next two years?”
“Genimo’s cousin?” Nestor’s confusion at Javier’s sudden change of subject showed in his tone.
“He’s really fast.” Kiram picked up the thread. “And he’s hard to predict.”
“Quite,” Javier agreed. “Though you did manage to out maneuver him.”
At last the older man withdrew.
As a rule the lords who spoke with Javier extricated themselves soon after Kiram joined the conversation, though he didn’t know if this was because he was Haldiim or if that’s when it became obvious that Javier would not be drawn into meeting their marriageable female relations.
Elezar returned from dancing, but Atreau, Morisio and, surprisingly, Fedeles continued to claim partners from among the noblewomen. Pretty young girls with glittering golden complexions clung to Atreau. Morisio claimed shy young women who seemed delighted with his unexpected attention. Fedeles mostly inspired a motherly affection from middle-aged matrons, who nearly always accepted his outstretched hand. The music rolled on and couples laughed and danced past as Kiram looked on with envy.
He loved to dance, and if this had been a Haldiim gathering he would have been one of the first men out on the dance floor and one of the last to leave. But Haldiim festivities were very different from those of Cadeleonians. Haldiim music was generally much faster and the dancing rarely involved intimate couples. Haldiim dances drew entire families together to form rings or lines, while the music quickened and steps increased in speed.
The Cadeleonian festivities and the dancing in particular seemed to center on couples. Marriageable couples, Kiram suspected. As such, no woman in her right mind would want to dance with him, and he didn’t know the steps in any case. Still, it looked fun.
A sunken old gentleman scowled heavily at Kiram as, once again, Javier ignored the mention of a lovely, young granddaughter and asked Kiram if he’d ever been to the Ammej Bridge in the Haldiim district of Anacleto.
“Many times,” Kiram replied. Javier had really been serious when he claimed he’
d brought him along to be his human shield, he realized. “It’s only a few blocks from my family house. I can’t imagine any Haldiim in Anacleto who hasn’t used the bridge. It’s huge. Have you ever been?”
“No, I’ve only visited Anacleto once and I was quite young. My mother couldn’t abide the Haldiim section of the city. I’ve read about the bridge though and I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“I crossed it once,” Nestor said. “Elezar and me both, when we went shopping for sweets for our father.” He turned to Kiram. “That would have been at your mother’s shop, you know. I wonder if we could have seen each other, then. It would have been four—”
“Five years ago,” Elezar corrected.
The old man took his leave with a stiff bow to Javier.
“Should you really have been so obvious about snubbing him?” Kiram inquired.
“Should he have been so obvious in his attempts to insinuate his knock-kneed granddaughter into my bed?” Javier countered and Kiram could see that he was both bored and annoyed.
Before Kiram could respond Nestor gripped his arm. “Look! She’s here!”
Riossa Arevillo stood at the top of the stairs, looking small and pale beside the ornately dressed servant. Even across the ballroom Kiram could see that her skin was not powdered; nor was her hair. Her gown was simple and compared to the rich silks and brocades worn by the other women in the room, it looked like it belonged to a peasant. Most surprising was the absence of any escort. She stood on the stairs all alone with her small spectacles clenched in her hand.
Elezar and Javier exchanged a pained look.
“Mother will eat her alive,” Elezar told Nestor flatly.
“She won’t,” Nestor replied. “I’ll protect Riossa.”
In response, Elezar gave a derisive snort.
“I’ll do what I can to distract Lady Grunito,” Javier offered. “But what were you thinking, Nestor? And why is she alone?”