The Scholar's Heart (Chronicles of Tournai Book 3)

by Antonia Aquilante

  Etan forced his expression to remain neutral and not display his surprise. He never expected someone from so far away—or anyone outside of his own circle at the university—to know of and appreciate his work. “I’m flattered, sir.”

  “Not at all. It’s only the truth. I would enjoy talking with you about your work and your studies while I’m in Jumelle.”

  “It would be my pleasure, and I would certainly enjoy hearing more from you as well. There were several points in your lecture that I found of particular interest, and of possible relevance to something I’m currently working on.” He’d have to be very careful how he asked his questions so he didn’t expose a connection between Tournai’s legends and his own family, but he still would be interested in the conversation.

  “I would be happy to speak with you about anything you like.” Master Corentin smiled again but with more genuine pleasure this time. “Perhaps today? After I finish up here.”

  “Unfortunately I can’t today. I’m sorry.”

  “Think nothing of it. You’re a busy man.” Master Corentin’s words were easy, and Etan saw no indication they weren’t sincere. “We can meet at your convenience. I’m staying in the university guest house for now, so I can be reached there.”

  “I’ll be in touch, then.”

  “I look forward to it, my lord.”

  Etan did as well, he realized as he strode from the lecture hall a few moments later. He had few people to discuss his interests with on a regular basis. True, he couldn’t discuss his interest in the history and workings of the family’s Talents with Master Corentin, but it sounded as if Master Corentin was interested in the history of Tournai, and also willing to speak about his own knowledge area of legend and folklore. Etan didn’t know what the man knew of the cat legends of Tournai—and he wasn’t going to tell him more than was readily heard on the streets and only that if asked—but Master Corentin had mentioned dragons in passing in his lecture, and Etan wanted to know more about those stories. Tournai didn’t have dragon legends of its own, but Etan had suspicions—highly speculative ones—that the dragons might be like the cats of Tournai.

  He was looking forward to meeting with Master Corentin more and more.

  TRISTAN HADN’T been surprised exactly by the invitation to the palace for an evening of cards and dinner; he’d been invited to the palace numerous times since Amory became Philip’s lover then husband, as many of those invitations issued by Etan as they were by Amory, at least until a year ago. But Amory’s invitation to something that would be a gathering of mostly Philip’s cousins did surprise him a little, despite it being a casual evening, or perhaps because it was a casual evening. Since he and Etan had fallen out for whatever reason, Tristan was invited to court functions and larger, slightly more formal dinners that Philip and Amory threw, or found himself spending time with Amory alone.

  But he hadn’t been invited to this type of intimate evening in quite a while.

  “Tristan!”

  Tristan stopped nearly at the door into the palace and turned to find Griffen jogging to catch up with him. “Hello, Griffen. I didn’t know I’d be seeing you tonight.”

  “Nor I you. But it’s good to see you.”

  “And you.” Once Griffen drew even with him, Tristan turned, and they walked into the palace together. “How have you been?”

  “Good. Settled in after Bastien left the city, though Mathis does miss having the house to himself I think.” Griffen laughed. “I don’t know why he’s complaining—he spends all his time in university libraries anyway. I couldn’t even get him to come with me tonight.”

  They chatted as they strolled through the palace. The guards didn’t stop them when they arrived at the wing containing Philip and Amory’s suite, and they continued on to the suite. Griffen knocked on the door. Tristan felt a rush of surprise and pleasure when it opened and Etan was on the other side. He knew he’d likely see Etan tonight, but that knowledge didn’t diminish his pleasure at doing so.

  Etan was balancing a sleepy Julien on his hip, the child’s head resting on Etan’s shoulder, his eyes blinking slowly. Etan was smiling, and his smile stayed in place even as a shadow of something passed through his eyes. He blinked, and the shadow was gone, but Tristan knew he’d seen it, and from the way Etan had glanced between him and Griffen, he could only guess Etan knew something had happened between him and Griffen. Or at least, that Etan suspected. And he didn’t seem happy about it, though Tristan wasn’t sure why. What happened between him and Griffen had happened before anything between him and Etan, and it hadn’t been more than a little fun for both of them. He hadn’t even seen Griffen since.

  Griffen seemed oblivious to what Tristan noticed. He greeted Etan with a smile and a one-armed hug that avoided disturbing Julien, and then walked past him into the sitting room to greet the others. Tristan stood for another breath, watching Etan, unsure what to do, but Etan gestured him forward.

  “Come in. I was just bringing Julien through to the nursery.”

  “He seems to be nearly asleep.” He ran a hand down Julien’s back. “I think he’s drooling on you.”

  Etan shrugged with one shoulder. “What’s a little drool between a nephew and uncle?”

  Tristan smiled at him, enjoying how easy Etan was with Julien. And tempted to lean forward and brush his lips over Etan’s. He stared into Etan’s eyes, held Etan’s gaze for a long moment, and was about to do it, about to kiss him, no matter who was watching—because they were among friends, so it shouldn’t matter—but Etan stepped back.

  “Come in,” Etan said again. “The others are in the sitting room. I need to get Julien to bed.”

  Etan slipped away before Tristan could say anything else, carrying Julien off to the nursery and leaving Tristan to enter the suite or continue standing around in the corridor. He chose to go inside. Closing the door behind himself, Tristan walked into the sitting room and greeted Amory and Philip, then Cathal and Flavian. Cathal handed him a glass of wine, which he took with thanks and joined the conversation.

  A few moments later, Griffen sat beside him and spoke in an undertone, “Later, maybe, we could share a drink again. You could come to my house…?”

  Tristan didn’t even realize he was watching for Etan to return until he saw the man step into the room. Etan caught him watching. His gaze flicked to Griffen beside Tristan and then away from both of them. Tristan realized Griffen was waiting for an answer. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Griffen raised an eyebrow. “Someone else? Good for you. I hope you’ll be happy together.”

  “No, it isn’t like that. It’s just… an arrangement.” He’d proposed this thing with Etan and even he didn’t know how to describe it, what to call it, but then, he’d never expected to have to describe it to anyone. “An exclusive one.”

  “Ah. Too bad.”

  Tristan studied Griffen. “Oh? How so?”

  Griffen shrugged. “Well, it would be nice to find someone, wouldn’t it? Someone to love, and Etan’s a good man.”

  Tristan’s surprise at Griffen uttering the first part of the statement was eclipsed by shock at the second part. “Etan? What do you mean Etan?”

  Griffen’s lips quirked in a smile. “Your arrangement isn’t with Etan? I just assumed since you keep looking at him and he keeps glancing this way as if I’m going to steal you away and you’re going to let me.”

  Tristan felt his cheeks heat. He had looked at Etan again, letting his gaze slip away from Griffen to find Etan across the room. No wonder Griffen noticed. “Etan is a friend.”

  Or he had been a friend. Might be again? Tristan had no idea, just that he still missed Etan when he wasn’t there, even after all this time, even after the hurt of losing him as a friend.

  “If you say so.” Griffen looked up when Philip called his name. “Yes, Philip?”

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “I assume you’re referring to the antisocial one here in the city and not the antisocial one back on
the estate?” Griffen grinned as Philip laughed. “I tried to convince him to come along, but he’d rather spend time with his books than with actual people.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know,” Cathal said and looked pointedly to Etan.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Etan had a look of blatantly false innocence on his face. “And books can be far more interesting than people anyway.”

  Cathal shook his head, his expression that of a long-suffering brother. “You’d sleep in the library if you could, I think.”

  Etan looked away, but Griffen laughed. “Mathis would. I think he has.”

  “Perhaps next time I’ll have to order him here. Force him to socialize with his family.” Laughter greeted Philip’s words and only increased when Cathal added on, “Like we do Etan?”

  Etan rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored his brother, and they turned to other topics of conversation. Tristan watched Etan for another few moments. Was it truly so difficult to get Etan out of the library? Tristan had never found it to be so, not when they were close. Lately, Etan had pleaded work or his studies often as reasons not to see Tristan. Another thing that had changed.

  The evening turned out to be an enjoyable one. Tristan hadn’t really doubted it would, but he’d wondered briefly, after the awkward beginning with Etan and Griffen, if he would be too uncomfortable to enjoy himself. Dinner was excellent, and the company good, the card game afterward lively. And Tristan finished the night on Etan’s couch. For a while he’d doubted Etan would want him that night, what with the looks of suspicion and disapproval Etan had sent his and Griffen’s way, but Etan had, and they hadn’t even made it all the way to the bed.

  They’d come together as soon as the door closed behind them, stripping each other of their clothes and falling on each other. With each inch of Etan’s skin revealed, Tristan had been more eager to get his greedy hands on it, and he hadn’t seen any reason to deny himself. The result was just as explosive as every other encounter they’d had.

  As he and Etan lay tangled together on the couch after, he wished he could stay. Not that Etan had invited him to spend the night, but he didn’t think Etan was about to kick him out either. Unfortunately he had to go home. He just didn’t feel right spending the whole night out now that he had Bria and she was so young, especially since no one would know where to find him if something happened. He assumed word would be sent up to the palace first, since they did know of his dinner plans, but he couldn’t risk it.

  He didn’t understand his desire to stay with Etan anyway. He’d never felt the need with anyone else. But he wanted to now, wanted to curl up in Etan’s embrace, feeling the warmth of Etan’s skin against his own, Etan’s fingers carding through his hair.

  No use thinking about it or wondering the why of it. He had to leave. And when he rose to dress, Etan didn’t ask him to stay.

  Chapter 11

  NEARLY TWO weeks later, Etan was at Alzata. He enjoyed the estate, which had belonged to Philip’s father and then to Philip upon his father’s death. Philip had made a gift of it to Amory after Amory fell in love with the place. Etan thought it beautiful and had many fond memories of childhood visits, but he hadn’t been planning on a trip. He had far too much to do, including final preparations for his lecture, which was only a few days away.

  But Amory had convinced him to come along, painting pictures of a pleasant, relaxing family outing of the kind he remembered from his childhood. Cathal and Flavian were going too. As was Tristan. Which had been a surprise, one that almost had Etan taking back his agreement. But Amory explained how tired Tristan was, how much he needed the break, even though he’d never admit it, and Amory was plainly worried. Apparently Tristan had another confrontation with his mother over his refusal to marry and her constant attempts to make him do so.

  Etan had noticed Tristan’s fatigue and turmoil when he’d seen him—the four times he’d seen him: a lunch, another interlude in a secret corridor at the palace that Etan still couldn’t believe happened one afternoon, and two dinners in the city followed by more at Tristan’s house, though Etan turned down invitations to stay. Spending the night with Tristan, sleeping tangled together in each other’s arms just seemed too intimate, too much. Etan couldn’t let himself get so enmeshed with Tristan, not again, no matter how tempting it was.

  He’d distracted himself well enough from his thoughts of Tristan between their trysts, but the one lunch had felt so much like the impromptu friendly lunches they used to share it almost hurt. He had plenty of work, and his studies were always there, now even more important because of his upcoming lecture. He’d also met with Corentin twice, both times over lunch. The conversation had been fascinating and enjoyable. He’d been quite interested to take in Corentin’s knowledge and happy to share his own. Corentin was considering a longer stay in Jumelle—the university had invited him to teach a class—and Etan rather hoped he took them up on it. Though Corentin admitted he was a bit of a wanderer.

  “Nearly there.”

  Etan brought his attention back to his companions. Philip had spoken, but Etan wasn’t sure if it was to Amory beside him or Julien on his lap. The little prince loved carriage rides and was avidly looking out the window, the passing scenery occupying him for the whole of the trip. On Amory’s other side, Tristan also stared out the window, sunlight glinting off the gold of his hair. He’d worried about leaving Bria with her nursemaid and Julien’s in the second carriage, but she’d been fussy and he hadn’t wanted to disturb the rest of them in the confines of the carriage. Etan had been somewhat surprised to hear that Tristan had never been out to Alzata, but then Etan himself hadn’t visited very often in the last few years.

  Tearing his eyes from Tristan before he was caught staring, he looked to his left at Cathal and Flavian. Cathal was reading, as he had been for much of the trip. Flavian had started out the short journey drawing in a small sketchbook, but not long after had fallen asleep, his head resting on Cathal’s shoulder. Cathal kept glancing at Flavian, little looks filled with affection. Upon seeing them, Etan’s heart warmed for his brother. He liked that Cathal and Flavian had found each other.

  Flavian’s painting supplies were stowed with their luggage. Cathal was in for a long day of watching Flavian paint, but Etan knew he wouldn’t mind. He’d probably enjoy it, and really the way a picture came into being under Flavian’s hands was nothing short of amazing. Especially to someone, like him or Cathal, who didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He turned his gaze away from Cathal and Flavian when Cathal began to murmur to Flavian, gently urging him to wake.

  They’d left Jumelle early in the morning because they only planned on staying one night and returning the next afternoon. None of them could be away very long, least of all Philip and Amory, and Philip and Amory wanted them to have as much time as they could together. Despite the trepidation he’d felt when he heard Tristan was included, Etan couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to the time with the people he loved, away from the demands of the palace. It was something they hadn’t had enough of.

  The timing of the trip had turned out to be fortuitous to Captain Loriot, who would have preferred they all stay at Alzata a little longer. A few days ago, a spy had been caught trying to infiltrate the palace in a servant’s position, and Captain Loriot wanted time to go over palace security and make sure all was well. The spy’s attempt was troubling, but he’d been caught before he even made it close to receiving a post. Philip and Amory took that as a good thing, despite Captain Loriot’s concern, and Etan planned to put the situation out of his head as much as he could for the next couple of days. He would enjoy the time away and trust Captain Loriot to do what was needed.

  The carriage slowed but sped up again after the guards swung open the iron gates adorned with the royal crest that were set into the high stone walls of Alzata. The guards closed the gates behind them as the carriage continued on its way along Alzata’s winding lane. It meandered through large shady trees for
a while before the trees suddenly gave way and the house became visible across vivid green lawns.

  Etan smiled as Julien clapped his hands and laughed at his first sight of the house. Philip smiled down at his son too. “He did that last time we were here too. He likes the way the house looks in the sun.”

  Who wouldn’t? As adults, they couldn’t clap, but Etan had heard a quiet gasp from Tristan, nearly covered by Julien’s delighted laughter, at the sight. He couldn’t blame Tristan. Etan had seen Alzata for the first time as a baby, same as Julien, and his reaction was probably much like Julien’s. He was too young to remember, but his mother might know. He still thought the house beautiful, made as it was of a rare stone that sparkled a rosy gold in the sunlight and glowed in the moonlight, but looked like any other stone in the shadows or dimness of a cloudy day.

  The carriage stopped in front of the wide front steps, closely followed by the second carriage, and servants came to help them. Etan followed Philip, Amory, and Tristan out and moved aside to allow Cathal and Flavian to climb down behind him. Tristan had stopped to admire the house and what he could see of the grounds from the front courtyard. He was smiling, and Etan realized he was too. He wondered what magic Alzata had to do that to all of them.

  Etan looked up at the house. To him, it just felt like home, a home away from home. But he could see how the house could seem magical, sparkling in the sun.

  “What are you thinking?” Philip asked from beside him. Julien babbled and giggled in Amory’s arms now as Amory carried him into the house.

  “That I’ve missed it here. I have fond memories of Alzata.”

  “Me too. We won’t leave it so long before we do this again.” Philip threw an arm around his shoulders in a one-armed hug.

  They spent most of the day outside. As Etan had predicted, Flavian set up his easel out on the lawn and set to painting. Cathal didn’t disturb him, just sprawled over a blanket in the sun, reading a book and sneaking looks at Flavian often. Those glances, more than glances once Flavian was so absorbed in his work he wouldn’t notice anything outside the painting, made Etan ache a bit. He wanted that with someone.