The Merchant's Love

by Antonia Aquilante

  Faelen greeted them as well. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Alexander, you didn’t say anything about coming to the festival today.”

  “Didn’t I?” Alexander had an altogether too innocent look in his eyes that Faelen knew well and didn’t trust one bit.

  “No, you didn’t. Not even when I mentioned I’d be here with Maxen today.”

  “I could have sworn I had.” Alexander’s tone was absolutely unconvincing, to Faelen at least. Alexander had come on purpose with the objective of finding them. Faelen almost wanted to congratulate him for managing it. It had to be sheer luck that they’d stumbled upon him and Maxen in the crowded marketplace.

  “Hmm.” Faelen glanced at Meriall and Adora, who were chatting with Maxen. Neither had the look of a conspirator about them, and he didn’t think they would be part of Alexander’s scheme, whatever it was.

  “What are you planning to do next?” Maxen inquired of them.

  “I don’t think we have a plan.” Meriall grinned. “Or, not one past wander about and see what looks interesting. You?”

  “Well.” Maxen looked at Faelen, resignation in his eyes that their early return to his house would be delayed substantially. “We were considering watching some of the performances.”

  “That sounds like fun.” Alexander glanced at his companions, as if searching for their approval. Meriall had a small line between her brows as she watched him. “Do you mind if we join you?”

  Faelen couldn’t very well say that he did mind quite a bit. Not when Alexander had Meriall and Adora with him, already likely confused with the tension between him and his twin.

  Maxen wasn’t able to hide all his puzzlement either. He glanced at Faelen, but what options did they have? “Not at all. The more the merrier.”

  “Are you certain? We wouldn’t want to intrude,” Meriall said. Faelen knew he’d always liked her. “You won’t hurt out feelings if you say no.”

  “Of course not,” Faelen said with a smile. What else could he say? “We’d be happy for the company, as Maxen said.”

  “If you say so.” Meriall’s skepticism was plain, but Faelen couldn’t contradict himself at this point.

  “Shall we go?” Maxen asked.

  The most direct route took them back through the market. Meriall and Adora pointed out interesting things to each other as they walked, but neither stopped nor asked to hold the party up. Faelen wasn’t certain he would have done the same in their position, and he wouldn’t have minded stopping for them.

  He managed to put himself beside Alexander at the back of the group a few moments later. “What are you up to?”

  “Me? How can you—”

  “Because I know you as well as I know myself. Your finding us here is not a coincidence.”

  Alexander sighed. “I’d say you wound me, but as you said, you know me.”

  Faelen shook his head. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Alexander gave a casual shrug. “You’re spending an awful lot of time with him, and you haven’t brought him round. If he marries you, he’s going to see a lot of me. So, really, it’s in his best interest for us to get to know each other.”

  He couldn’t help the head shake again. What did Alexander think he was doing? “He’ll be at the ball.”

  Another fluid shrug. “Perhaps I wanted him off guard.”

  “You’re being absurd.”

  “Is it absurd to be concerned about you?”

  Faelen frowned at him. “You don’t have to be.”

  “Of course, I do. I’m your brother, and I know things about you. And this is all new to you and—”

  “He knows things as well,” Faelen said slowly, quietly. At Alexander’s raised eyebrow, he continued, “You don’t think I’ve told him things about me?”

  Alexander looked at him sharply. “What have you told him?”

  “I think that’s between me and Maxen.” He hurt saying it. There wasn’t a time he could remember when he hadn’t told Alexander everything, but he was irritated that Alexander had shown up like a chaperone or a protector and expected to be told everything. “And I’m certainly not going to talk about it in the middle of a public market.”

  Alexander nodded, his expression alarmingly unreadable.

  “Alexander, I love you, and I appreciate your concern. But ambushing us isn’t going to endear you to me. It isn’t how you should go about getting to know Maxen either.” Faelen looped his arm through his twin’s, pulling him closer. “I do want you to know him, and like him.”

  “Because you care about him.”

  It wasn’t a question—it wouldn’t be; Alexander knew Faelen too well. Faelen answered anyway. “I do.”

  Alexander sighed. “All right.”

  Faelen wasn’t certain Alexander was agreeing to what he actually wanted, but before he could press, Meriall called to them, her voice filled with laughter, and Maxen turned back, smiling and holding out a hand to him. Faelen strode to him and let himself be drawn against Maxen’s side. He could talk to Alexander later, in private.

  They made a merry group walking through the market and then over two streets to the square where a stage had been constructed. Faelen liked how their voices tumbled over each other as they laughed and talked, even if he was one of the quieter ones. In Teilo, his position had kept him from making close, personal connections. Alexander was bold enough to push himself into the center of any social group, but even he hadn’t formed attachments that he’d been upset to leave. So it was nice to feel part of a group, even if he wasn’t throwing himself into the center of it. Adora caught his eye, and he could see in her face the same things he felt.

  The square was crowded but not an utter crush. More people would arrive as the afternoon and evening wore on, and there would be dancing and a bonfire that night.

  They found a good spot in the square as a pair of jugglers began their routine on the stage. Faelen could mostly see, though he never cursed his short stature so much as when he had to stand in a crowd. Of them, only Maxen wouldn’t have some difficulty seeing the stage. Perhaps Faelen and the others could take turns standing on the bench beside them.

  “What do we say to some hot cider to warm us up?” Maxen asked once they were settled. “I saw a cart selling it.”

  The perimeter of the square was lined with temporary stalls and carts selling food and drink. Many of the Midwinter events would take place here, the second largest square in Jumelle. The foodsellers took advantage, catering to those who didn’t want to walk back to the market or miss out on the festivities to visit an eating house.

  “Oh, that sounds good!” Meriall smiled and turned to Adora. “Doesn’t it? I’m a little chilly.”

  Adora had pulled the hood of her cloak up over her auburn hair. It was the same shade as Amory’s with the same tendency to curl. She pushed a loose strand from her eyes before she answered. “Yes, something warm would be nice.”

  “That’s settled, then. I’ll go get some for all of us,” Maxen said.

  “You can’t carry it all on your own—” Faelen began.

  “True,” Alexander said. “I’ll go with you.”

  Faelen looked at his twin sharply. “Alexander.”

  If Maxen was as startled as Faelen, he hid it well. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Faelen watched them walk away until the milling crowd—which didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic about the jugglers—swallowed them up.

  “I’m sure Alexander won’t interrogate him too much.”

  Faelen turned to find Meriall watching him, sympathy written in her features. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She shook her head, her smile turning wry. “I didn’t know what he was putting us in the middle of, you know.”

  Adora nodded beside her. “We’re sorry, Faelen. We didn’t realize until we saw you two there.”

  Was his infatuation—no, his feelings were far more than mere infatuation—with Maxen so obvious? Adora hardly knew him, and she’d
seen it. “It’s fine. You didn’t know, and Alexander is used to getting his way.”

  “Still. Please forgive us.” Meriall bit her lip. “If you like, we can wander off with the meddler in tow, and you can get back to your time with Maxen.”

  Faelen desperately wanted to agree. He sighed. “No, it’s fine. He’ll only be more impossible if Maxen and I don’t stay for at least a while.”

  “Well, whenever you’d like to escape, just give us a signal, and we’ll distract Alexander for you.” Meriall gave him a quick grin. “I know what it’s like to have interfering brothers.”

  Meriall was the youngest in her family, with three brothers and two sisters older than her. He supposed she would know what it was like, though he couldn’t imagine Cathal, Vrai, or Etan doing what Alexander was.

  Adora nodded. “Though Amory is usually fairly sensible, even when he is protective.”

  “Lucky you.” Faelen grinned to let her know he was teasing. She was so quiet and serious sometimes—so shy too—that he didn’t want her to think he was trying to be mean.

  “In Amory at least. It’s not so with all my brothers.” Adora’s face closed off when she said it, but when Meriall lightly touched her arm, she seemed to shake herself and put on a smile. “Anyway, yes, just let us know.”

  “Thank you.” Faelen glanced in the direction Maxen and Alexander had gone. Had they been gone a long time? No, it just felt that way. “I hope Alexander doesn’t say anything to upset him.”

  “Does Alexander get like this with his other siblings?” Meriall asked. Her question was almost absent as she studied the stone bench next to them. Finally, she lifted her deep-red wool skirt and planted one booted foot on the seat. “With your sisters?”

  Despite being startled, Faelen jumped over to steady her as she climbed onto the bench’s seat. Adora put a hand under one of Meriall’s elbows too. Adora’s other hand hovered over her open mouth. The idea of standing on the bench had occurred to Faelen, but as a joke. He did admire Meriall for not caring about what anyone would think.

  Once she was standing firmly, Meriall looked around. “This is much better. Now I can actually see the juggling. There’s room for you to come up too, Adora.”

  Adora’s eyes were still wide as saucers, but it wasn’t every day that the sister of a duke behaved the way Meriall was. “I’m fine here for now, keeping Faelen company.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Faelen!” Dismay flooded Meriall’s face. “I can get down.”

  He shook his head. “No need. Stay and watch the jugglers.”

  “If you’re certain…”

  “I am.”

  Meriall nodded and stopped looking for a graceful way of getting down. “All right, then. The jugglers aren’t doing anything unique now. Are you going to tell us? What I asked before I climbed up here. About Alexander?”

  “Oh, well. Not really.”

  “Not really?” Meriall and Adora asked together and then giggled quietly for a moment.

  “I guess it’s because we’re twins.” Not the real answer, or the whole one anyway, but as much as he would give. Though with Meriall, a duke’s sister, standing as she was, propriety seemed to have been tossed out the window. Either way, he wasn’t sharing confidences here.

  “I can see how that would be an even closer relationship,” Adora said in her sweet, quiet voice. “Do you do the same to him?”

  Faelen shifted as he thought. “I suppose I can be, but I don’t go about it the same way.”

  “I see Alexander and Maxen coming back.” Meriall had turned to watch the crowd instead of the stage at some point. “Maxen seems to be alive and well, so you needn’t worry, Faelen.”

  Some of the anxiety left him in a rush, just knowing that Maxen didn’t seem upset by whatever Alexander had said. He needed to see Maxen to make certain. Then he could decide if he needed to murder his twin.

  Maxen expected some kind of interrogation when Alexander insisted on going with him. Alexander had manipulated their meeting in the market—Maxen would be stupid if he believed it hadn’t been planned. A questioning of his intentions would logically follow.

  But all through the walk and the wait to get the cider, Alexander said nothing. What he did, however, ranged from intense stares to outright glaring. Maxen did his best to ignore it. Alexander wanted him to say something, that much was obvious, but Maxen didn’t have to make it easy on him. In fact, despite Maxen’s feelings for Faelen—or maybe because of them—he saw no reason at all to make it easier for Alexander to meddle in Faelen’s affairs.

  He understood wanting the best for family, wanting to care for them and shield them from harm. But Alexander’s decision to try to intimidate Maxen seemed like a poor way of going about it. For now, Maxen would let Alexander have his way, whatever that was. He could reassure him about how much he cared for Faelen later, if Alexander would even believe him.

  At the front of the line, they ordered the cider, and Maxen paid before Alexander could offer. They split the cups between them and worked their way through the thickening crowd. When they returned to the others, it was to find Faelen looking anxious and Meriall standing on a bench.

  Maxen glanced up at her and then back at Faelen, frowning.

  “She couldn’t see well enough,” Adora supplied, as if that explained everything. Adora came closer to relieve him of two of the cups, keeping one and handing the other up to Meriall. Maxen had meant to give one to Faelen, but Alexander was already doing that.

  “Have we missed anything good?” Maxen asked, not really directing the question at anyone, but watching Faelen, trying to silently reassure him all was well. He absolutely would not complain about Alexander to Faelen, would not let any of his annoyance show. Maxen understood why Alexander felt the way he did, even if he wished he’d been straightforward with him.

  “Just the jugglers,” Faelen said and smiled slightly.

  “They’re still going,” Meriall added.

  “Should you be up there? Etan won’t be happy with me if you fall.” Maxen said it with a smile, but he was mostly serious.

  She laughed. “It’s a bench. I’m not standing on a roof. You’re not responsible for me anyway. I am.” A look of mischief came into her eyes. “Though Alexander brought us out here, so I think I’d blame him if anything happened.”

  Alexander let out what could only be called an indignant squawk, and Faelen laughed, a delightful sound, full of mirth and a little teasing at his twin’s expense. Maxen smiled just hearing it. Faelen looked at him, the laughter in his eyes softening, blurring into something else, some quieter joy.

  They watched the jugglers and listened to the singers that took the stage after them. Sometime during a captivating performance by some acrobats, Meriall managed to coax Adora up onto the bench with her. Adora was usually so shy and demure, but it seemed her friendship with lively Meriall was drawing her out of her shell.

  Maxen was happy to see it, even if her actions surprised him. Adora should get to enjoy herself away from her overbearing—and frankly awful—father. Both Meriall and Adora clapped excitedly at some of the more impressive tricks, and Meriall even bounced a bit. Alexander reached up and put a hand on her elbow to steady her, though she didn’t seem to realize what she’d done.

  Faelen leaned into Maxen, rising up on his toes and using Maxen’s whole body to balance himself. It made Maxen warmer than the spiced cider.

  “I’m sorry,” Faelen whispered. “I hate that I’m so short sometimes.”

  “I think you’re perfect just as you are, Fae.” The words were perhaps too personal for the middle of a crowded public square, but they were just there, on Maxen’s tongue, and he had to say them, had to let Faelen know some small bit of what he was only beginning to understand. He loved the feel of Faelen against him, loved that Faelen’s head could rest just so against his shoulder.

  Faelen didn’t say anything back, but before Maxen could regret letting those words out, Faelen snuggled in a little closer, not just usin
g Maxen for balance now. He slid an arm around Faelen’s slender waist and urged him even closer. The crowd was thick enough no one would notice, except perhaps Alexander, but Maxen found he wasn’t particularly worried about what anyone thought.

  The performers on stage changed—from acrobats to players doing skits to more singers—but their group kept their spot in the square. Maxen made a visit to the foodseller’s carts again, this time with Faelen, to fetch food for the five of them, which they shared while evening fell and a sorcerer conjured illusions on the stage.

  As if at some unspoken signal, Meriall and Adora began talking about returning home. Maxen wasn’t opposed to the idea, though the bonfire hadn’t been lit yet. He might have enjoyed dancing with Faelen, but he didn’t mind leaving, especially if Faelen was going with him. He hadn’t forgotten their earlier banter, and he rather hoped some of it might come to pass.

  After Meriall and Adora—giggling and lively despite their words about it being late—hopped down from the bench, they began making their way through the crowds. Outside the square and its surrounding area, it became easier to walk, and they strolled together, passing around a bag of sugared nuts Meriall had purchased earlier.

  “Alexander will escort us home before he goes back to the palace,” Meriall said when they reached the spot where Maxen would have to leave them for his own house. “Adora is staying with me tonight anyway.”

  “What about Faelen?” Alexander asked. “Isn’t he walking you home too?”

  “No, he’s walking Maxen home,” Meriall said with a satisfied little smile. “Come on, Alexander. I’ll even have the carriage take you back up to the palace so you don’t have to walk in the cold.”

  She pulled him away in a flurry of goodbyes. Adora walked behind them, almost as if she were herding Alexander along, making sure he went in the direction Meriall chose.

  After they rounded the corner, Maxen looked at Faelen and found the same bemusement in his expression. They both began to laugh, leaning on each other for a moment as their mirth bubbled out. Maxen had to remember not to cross Meriall, and that while Adora might be quiet, she could still get exactly what she wanted.