The Merchant's Love

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The Merchant's Love Page 9

by Antonia Aquilante


  “Thank you for the pastry and the company this morning,” Faelen said as they stopped at the street corner where they’d have to part.

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed discussing the book with you.” Maxen laughed as he batted a flying leaf away from his face.

  “I enjoyed it too.” Faelen studied him for a moment. “What drew you to that book?”

  “The story sounded exciting.” Maxen shrugged. “I liked that they were supposed to travel around having adventures. I’ve always wanted to travel.”

  “You have? You haven’t mentioned it.”

  “Oh, yes, since I was a child, I’ve always had an urge to see…everywhere, really.” Maxen got a faraway look on his face for a moment, as if he were imagining all the places he would one day see. “Father took Tristan on a trip. Part work, part pleasure, but I was still in school. He said he’d take me, but he didn’t have a chance before he died. And I’ve been working in the business and trying to be here for my family since.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. Someday, I’ll go. Just leave Jumelle and travel everywhere.”

  Surprise jolted through Faelen. “You make it sound as if you won’t come back.”

  “Well, I will someday, I suppose. But for a while, it would be amazing just to travel where I like and see as much as I can. It would be an adventure. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

  Faelen couldn’t help smiling at the sight of Maxen’s glowing eyes and excited grin. “I don’t know. I spent a lot of my childhood and young adulthood somewhere else. I’m ready to be home.”

  As he walked back to the palace and the family who waited for him there—home, after years away—he tried to quell his disappointment. Yes, it would be sad when Maxen decided to go, and Faelen would miss the near-constant exchange of notes and the time they spent together, but it didn’t mean their friendship was over. Letters would take longer, but they could still write, and he would enjoy hearing about Maxen’s adventures, mostly because he could imagine how excited Maxen would be to tell him about them. He should be happy for Maxen. Maybe he would by the time Maxen decided to leave—he’d work on it.

  Chapter Seven

  “Thanks for bringing the documents here,” Tristan said. “I know it’s just sniffles and I know her nursemaid is with her, but I hate to leave her.”

  Maxen smiled. Of course Tristan would be reluctant to leave Bria when she wasn’t well. “It’s no trouble. It’s the first time she’s been sick, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I suppose I’m lucky we’ve gone so long…” Tristan shrugged. He looked more frazzled than he had in a long time, faint circles under his eyes revealing his lack of sleep.

  “Have the healers seen her?” Maxen couldn’t imagine that Tristan wouldn’t have taken her to them at the first sign of illness.

  “Yes, and it’s just a slight cold. They gave us some things to ease her symptoms and said she should be better in a few days.”

  It was unlikely they’d do anything more for a minor cold, but that likely wasn’t doing anything to ease Tristan’s worry. “Then she will be. I won’t tell you not to worry, though.”

  “Thanks for that.” Tristan smiled wryly. “Will you stay for lunch? She’s napping, and you could distract me. Otherwise, I’ll have to distract myself with these documents, and that won’t be pleasant at all.”

  Maxen laughed. The papers he’d brought up were dry as dust, but Tristan would give them his full attention, as he did any part of the business. Maxen had learned that same lesson from their father. “I left you some notes about them. Hopefully that will help.”

  “Thanks for that. I appreciate it. I need to pay attention to these. I know they’re important.”

  “But Bria has the majority of your attention now. As it should be. Where’s Etan?”

  “Giving a lecture at the university. He’ll be back later this afternoon.” Tristan narrowed his eyes. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Just that you’ll feel better when Etan’s back so you aren’t the only one worrying about Bria?”

  “Yes, well.”

  “You trust her nursemaid, don’t you?”

  “I do, I do.” Tristan raked a hand through his hair. “But…”

  “But you’d still rather be close. I understand. Let me know if you need me to do anything else, or get anything to you. If I can’t bring it myself, I’ll send someone up with it.”

  “Thank you. You could have sent these with a courier.” Tristan said it, but his tone expressed clearly what he thought of that idea.

  “I wouldn’t have. I know how sensitive they are.”

  Tristan nodded. “All right. So, lunch?”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. I promised to retrieve Renaud from his tutor and bring him along to the office this afternoon. I shouldn’t be late.”

  “Fine. If you must.” Tristan grinned, despite his grumbling words, and it was good to see him smile. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “You don’t have to.” Though, granted, Maxen wasn’t entirely confident in his ability to navigate his way to the palace stables. He hadn’t spent enough time in the palace to know even that much, but there were guards in all the corridors who would point him in the right direction. “I know you want to be close if Bria needs you.”

  “She’s asleep, and as you pointed out, her nursemaid is with her. Sanna probably wishes I weren’t underfoot all the time.” Tristan muttered the last part, but Maxen still heard him.

  He laughed. He could well imagine Tristan’s hovering getting on the nursemaid’s nerves. “All right, then. Walk me out.”

  Tristan gave him a sour look for his laughter but said nothing except, “Let me just tell Sanna where I’m going.”

  He returned a few moments later, and they left the suite and strolled through the corridors. Maxen did his best to pay attention to where Tristan led him—he should learn how to find Tristan’s suite, even if he didn’t visit often—but he quickly realized Tristan wasn’t leading him back in the same way he’d come. It became obvious when Tristan pushed open a door and sunlight spilled in. He gestured for Maxen to precede him out.

  “I thought some fresh air would be nice, since I’m getting out of the suite,” Tristan said. “We should take advantage of the good weather.”

  Maxen had been happy to wake that morning to a stunning, clear autumn day. They wouldn’t get many more as the gray of winter neared. The air was crisp, but with the sun shining, it felt good. Perhaps Tristan had the right idea with this little stroll outside.

  “The terrace wraps around the back of the palace in this direction. There’s a path to the stables from the garden near the end.” Tristan set off in the direction he indicated, but perhaps he felt as good as Maxen did being outside because he didn’t rush.

  The terrace was wide and open, with furniture placed in small groups. He’d seen little of the palace, let alone the extensive gardens attached to it. From just this small area, he could tell they would be breathtaking in the spring and summer; they were nearly that in late autumn.

  A peace that was soon interrupted by a hum of noise. Maxen frowned, but when they rounded a corner, the noise resolved itself into indistinct words, laughter, and music drifting on the breeze. On the lawn below the terrace was a small gathering. Tables and chairs dotted the grass, and young courtiers stood and sat and mingled. At the center of everything was a laughing Princess Elodie.

  “I forgot that Elodie took the chance to have one last garden party,” Tristan said, hesitating only slightly at the name, but Maxen caught it. “She likes a party.”

  “So I’ve heard.” The princess had a reputation for being merry and social and liking outings with the young members of the court. He’d seen it in how much she’d enjoyed herself at Tristan’s wedding, but he’d also found her charming and gracious.

  “Well, it’s true. Not that there’s anything wrong with one.”

  Maxen smiled. Tristan had always been a social person, though responsibi
lity for his child and the business had some effect on his carefree pursuits, and marriage had settled him somewhat as well. “Not at all.”

  As they continued walking, Maxen watched the gathering on the lawn. He’d thought garden parties were something that occurred more in spring, but no one on the lawn seemed to mind the brisk air, or perhaps they were just doing their best not to show it. They were the younger members of the princes’ court—and he assumed the set within the princess’s influence—but they were still courtiers. The princess was dressed in a plum-colored gown with a gray elbow-length cape over the top of it and a gray hat. Many of the ladies were dressed similarly, and most of the men were in autumn coats in velvet or fine wool. The group had a carefree air, though even he could recognize the careful posturing.

  His perusal was interrupted when he caught sight of a familiar figure winding through the group, and he nearly tripped over his own feet. Faelen stopped to exchange a few words here or there, or responded to greetings with regal nods and a practiced smile as he walked. He finally joined a cluster of a few people, his twin one of them. Alexander was talking animatedly with a similarly talkative young woman, the others listening more than speaking. But Maxen couldn’t help staring at Faelen. Even when one of the other men in the group—tall, blond, handsome in a bland way, undeniably of the nobility—leaned down to whisper something to Faelen, who smiled. Faelen fit easily into this picture, a part of it. He even fit with the young courtier flirting with him in whispers, and as much as Maxen hated to think it, perhaps better than with Maxen, sharing a picnic on a park bench.

  “Are you all right? What’s—oh.”

  Maxen had almost forgotten about Tristan, but he turned to his brother and realized he’d stopped walking at some point. “What?”

  Tristan raised his eyebrows in an inquiring look. “I think that’s my question. What’s going on with you and Faelen? Etan says you’ve been meeting for lunch quite a bit.”

  Etan probably didn’t know about all the notes Maxen exchanged with Faelen, or he would have told Tristan about that too. “Nothing, or nothing that you’re implying. We’re friends.”

  “Mhmm.”

  At Maxen’s look, Tristan shrugged and did a poor job of looking innocent.

  Maxen shook his head and muttered, “Someone save me from annoying older brothers.”

  “I heard that.”

  “You were meant to.” And even with Tristan’s teasing, Maxen couldn’t help taking one more peek at Faelen.

  Most of the group—including the flirtatious blond—had moved away, leaving Faelen alone with Meriall, one of Etan’s younger sisters. Faelen said something to her and reached up to push a curl out of his eyes. Maxen could tell the instant Faelen saw him. His smile widened, and he leaned over to say something to Meriall, who also looked up at them with a smile. The two of them began walking in their direction.

  The breeze was blowing Faelen’s hair around, but he only laughed as they took the stairs up to the terrace quickly. His ivory cheeks were flushed, and his jewel-bright eyes danced with welcome. The sunlight and rich green of his clothing teased out all the red in his dark locks.

  “Maxen, I didn’t know you were here,” Faelen said when he and Meriall reached them. “Hello, Tristan.”

  “Have you come to join us?” Meriall asked. Her cheeks were pink too, and her smile sunny. She wore a short cape over her gown in the same style as the princess’s, both garments ruby-red velvet with smoky-gray embroidery.

  “Not me,” Tristan said. “I have to get back to Bria.”

  “How is she? Etan told me she’s sick?” Faelen’s expression fell into lines of concern.

  “Just sniffles, but…” Tristan shrugged.

  “But he’s worried since he’d besotted with her, and it’s the first time she’s had sniffles,” Maxen continued for him, hoping the note of teasing came through. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but something needed to be said.

  All three of them laughed, Tristan shaking his head as he did. “Fine, make fun. Just wait. See what happens if you have a child.”

  Children were something Maxen had only considered in a hazy, someday kind of way. He assumed he’d have children one day, but he wasn’t in any hurry. “I’ll have to take your word for it for now.”

  “Do.” Tristan laughed again, and some of the worry smoothed from his face. At least Maxen had given him some distraction.

  “A little time away might do you good, Tristan,” Meriall said. “But I understand why you don’t want to. What about you—can we persuade you to join us for a while, Maxen?”

  With Faelen beside him, he was suddenly disappointed that he couldn’t. “I have to get Renaud from his tutor and go back to the office.”

  “That’s too bad. I would have liked to have your company,” Faelen said.

  “I’m sure you have plenty of people to talk with.” Maxen remembered that blond man he’d seen with Faelen and forced himself not to frown.

  Faelen shrugged. “I suppose. All courtiers, though, except Meriall and Alexander, so it isn’t really relaxing to talk with them.”

  “Why come, then?” Maxen asked.

  “It’s sort of required to make appearances at these things, especially when Elodie invites you,” Faelen said with another little shrug.

  “It’s court, and as members of the royal family, we have to be seen, even when we’d prefer not.” Meriall glanced back at the gathering. “No one’s noticed us up here yet, or at least no one bold enough to interrupt.”

  Faelen didn’t bother looking. “Well, that might irritate one of us, and there are too many people in that group trying to curry favors.”

  “And you think this would be an enjoyable distraction?” Tristan laughed.

  “I never said enjoyable.” Meriall grinned.

  “It’s a distraction anyway. There’s plenty of thought that goes into playing this game. Trying to read what everyone is thinking, and responding to it properly.” Faelen said it as if it were the most everyday thing, and Maxen supposed it was to him. He had to be careful in his business dealings, but he didn’t spend his whole life paying such attention to the politics of his surroundings.

  “It’s not all bad. It’s a nice day, and I do enjoy Faelen’s company.” Meriall glanced at the mingling courtiers. “I suppose we should get back before Elodie notices.”

  “I should go anyway,” Maxen said. “I shouldn’t be late to Renaud.”

  “And I should get back to Bria,” Tristan added.

  Maxen turned to him. “I thought you were walking me to the stables.”

  “I was, but I’ve taken longer than I meant to. I need to check on her.”

  He couldn’t say anything to that because, while Bria might be fine, Tristan wouldn’t believe it without seeing her. “I’ll find my way on my own.”

  “I can show you,” Faelen offered. “If Meriall doesn’t mind? I’m sure I won’t be missed by anyone.”

  “Don’t be too certain.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’ll make your excuses if anyone asks.”

  “Thank you.” Faelen turned to Maxen. “I’d be happy to walk with you whenever you’re ready.”

  “I should leave now.” He wasn’t looking forward to parting from Faelen, or even from Tristan and Meriall. His errand had turned out to be much more enjoyable than he’d thought it would. Nevertheless, he made his farewells to Tristan and Meriall, and then he and Faelen set off in the same direction as he’d been heading with Tristan.

  They strolled in silence for a few moments, until the noise of the party faded to something more indistinct. Maxen liked having Faelen at his side, his quiet, steady presence. But there was more to Faelen; he was beginning to learn just how much.

  “I’m happy to see you today.” Faelen’s smile was almost shy.

  “I am too. It was lucky that Tristan wanted to walk outside.”

  “Had I known you were coming up to the palace, I would have made sure I didn’t miss you.”

  Was Faelen h
urt because Maxen hadn’t told him? “Tristan sent a message to the office asking for some papers this morning. I didn’t even know I was coming up before then.”

  Faelen nodded. Had something lightened in him? Maxen was probably imagining it.

  “Then it’s lucky you happened by the party,” Faelen said.

  “Should you be missing it?”

  A fluid shrug. “Probably not, but it’s Elodie’s party, and everyone is vying for her attention above all else.”

  “How do you handle everyone demanding so much from you?” Maxen hadn’t considered the way the court behaved toward the royal family and how difficult it must be. The royal family had seemed unreachable, something different and special. But they were also people.

  “Not well?” Faelen flashed a rueful smile at Maxen. “I don’t like the fawning attention, but I’ve learned my whole life what to do when faced with it, so I fall back on that training, and treasure the time I have with those who like me for me and not just my proximity to the throne.”

  “I like you for you.” The words came out without Maxen’s permission, without thought.

  But Faelen only smiled, softer now. He glanced up at Maxen and then away again quickly. “I know.”

  “Good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, and they lapsed back into silence.

  At the end of the terrace, Faelen led him down a short few steps and onto a brick path. It skirted the edge of the gardens along a high hedge and through some well-placed trees that probably shaded the path from view better in the spring and summer when the leaves were lush and green.

  “What does the rest of your day hold?” Maxen asked.

  “I have some work to do in the archive. I should be doing it now.” Faelen shrugged. “It is a pretty day to be outside, though.”

  “Yes. I’m going to be sad to go back in when I get to the office. Too bad we can’t have lunch out in the park.”

  “I’d like that better than the party.”

  “Sad that we both have responsibilities.”

  Faelen gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, always.”

 

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