Cloak & Silence (The League)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “Very good, my lord. I’ll be right back.”

  Still uncomfortable, Maris assumed his full aristocratic bearing as he noted the number of curious glances he received from the staff as they worked while Ture was nowhere to be seen.

  This was really awkward.

  Maybe he should have stayed at home....

  * * *

  Ture came to a complete standstill as he left the freezer and finally saw the one face he’d been dying to see for days now. He’d been jittery and nervous since the moment Maris had accepted his invitation.

  Now Maris was here...

  And he was even more handsome than he remembered.

  Ture swallowed hard as he admired the way Maris looked. Dressed in an expensive black suit that was a lot more conservative than the man wearing it, Maris was the same rigid military commander who’d rescued him. He bled total masculinity and ferocity. Confidence and elegance.

  The word sexy was an understatement when applied to a man like him.

  “Mari?”

  He turned with full aristocratic bearing and rose slowly to his feet. “Ture.” He inclined his head to him.

  Confused by his continued stern formality, Ture frowned as he closed the distance between them. “Is something wrong?”

  Keeping a respectful and aggravating distance, Maris leaned down slightly to whisper in his ear. “I don’t know how open you are, and I don’t want to get you into trouble at work with your boss.”

  That was the kindest thing anyone had ever said or done for him in his life. And it explained the conservative clothing that hugged his lean, well-muscled body. And now that Ture thought about it, it looked like Maris had borrowed those somber clothes from Darling.

  In that one moment, Ture knew he was definitely in love with this man. Even though he barely knew him.

  Smiling, he turned his head and captured Maris’s lips with his for a tender kiss before Maris pulled away. “They all know where my taste lies, sweetie. As for the other? I own the restaurant and while I stay pissed at myself for multitudinous reasons, you’re definitely not one of them.”

  Maris returned his smile and noticeably relaxed. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or presume anything. The way you talk about it, I thought you just worked here.”

  It was true. He did. “Force of habit. I started as a cook and bought it from the former owner three years ago.”

  “Ah.”

  Anachelle returned with his wine and set it down.

  Ture frowned at her. “What did I tell you, missy?”

  She drew back with a guilty look. “I had to go to the bathroom. Sorry.” She scooted over to the corner where another padded chair was set. “Besides, we’re really busy. I should be out there helping.”

  Maris noted that Anachelle made no mention to Ture about Bertram and what he’d done. It said a lot about her character that she kept that to herself, and didn’t seek to harm someone who was obviously unkind by nature.

  “And I don’t want you to jeopardize that baby. Fold napkins!”

  “Yes, sir.” Huffing, she dutifully reached for the cart beside her and pulled a burgundy napkin down so that she could turn it into an intricate star shape. She placed it in a plastic container of other like creations.

  Maris smiled at Ture’s kindness. “I’ve never seen you bossy before.”

  “You’re not the only one who can be commanding.” He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Would you like to see a menu?”

  “Your house. Your rules. I’ll eat anything other than small children and infants or rodents.”

  Ture squeezed his arm. “All right. One serving of mystery appetizer coming up.”

  As Ture headed toward the main cooking area, Maris turned back to Anachelle who watched him curiously. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I like you a lot better than his last boyfriend. He was a total asshole, which is why I think it’s been so long since Ture last dated anyone at all. And I mean a l-o-n-g time. You seem very sweet.”

  Okay... He wasn’t sure what to make of her or that comment. “I’m not his boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  She reached for another napkin. “I see how you two look at each other. Even from over here, I got a little singed.”

  Maris didn’t know why, but he really liked her. “Here...” He moved her chair closer to the table then positioned his so that she could put her feet up on his thigh. “You need to keep them elevated or they’ll swell.”

  She arched a brow at him. “Know a lot of pregnant women, do you?”

  “My best friend’s wife is expecting so I’ve done my homework to keep him sane and Zarya from doing something stupid.”

  Her face lit up at the name. “Zarya Starska?”

  “You know her?” Maris asked, surprised by her enthusiasm.

  “Oh, I love and adore her! She used to come in and eat all the time. This table was actually put here just for her... How is my girl? I haven’t seen her in forever. I’ve missed her so. Is she really pregnant?”

  “Fine, and yes.”

  She laughed at his simple answers to her chaotic rambling. “Well then, it’s settled. You must be good people for Zarya to like you. She trusts very few.”

  “It speaks a lot for you, too.” Maris slid her shoes off then sipped his wine in between massaging her feet for her. “When’s your baby due?”

  “Another month.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  Her smile faded. “Boy.”

  Maris frowned at her sad tone. “You and his father must be excited.”

  She clenched her teeth as her eyes darkened with anger. “His father is a married man who ran back to his wife and blocked my calls the moment he found out I was pregnant.”

  He winced at the cruelty. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. On behalf of the male species, I would like to thoroughly beat him senseless for being a bastard.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Please, call me Maris or Mari.”

  Ture approached with an amused expression as he caught sight of her feet in Maris’s hands. “Are you two cozy enough?”

  Her cheeks pinkened. “Maris did it.”

  Maris gasped indignantly at her quick exclamation. “Did I just get thrown under a shuttle? I hope someone got the serial number of it.”

  Smiling, Ture set a plate of cheeses with sauce drizzled over them and a separate plate of crackers. “Not at all. I appreciate your taking care of my girl. Someone needs to.”

  Anachelle made a sound of supreme annoyance. “He thinks I’m a stray dog. He even took me into his apartment to live until after the baby comes.”

  “I never thought you were a stray dog, sweets. Just down your luck, which sadly happens to all of us at some point.” Ture poured more wine for Maris. Then he indicated the paste in a small bowl on the cracker plate. “That’s a pate’ with almonds and gixon. If you don’t like it, let me know and I can grab you something else.”

  “It looks and smells delicious.”

  Ture pulled several small packets out of his pocket for Maris to use to sanitize his hands. “I’m making your Chipped Oryan myself so I better get back to it before it scorches.”

  As soon as he was gone, Anachelle leaned in to whisper. “It really is the best you’ll ever taste, but don’t feed Ture’s ego. He’s arrogant enough about his culinary skills.”

  As soon as Maris tasted the pate’, he understood why. “Oh my God, this is fabulous!” He filled a cracker for Anachelle. “Would you like some?”

  “Pregnant and hungry all the time... Absolutely. Thank you.” She took it from him and reached for her bottled water that was near the napkins. “So what do you do for a living, my... Maris.”

  He smiled at her almost slip. “I’m the Andarion Ambassador for the Caron Empire.”

  She scowled. “Aren’t you supposed to actually be an Andarion for that?”

  He laughed at her confus
ion— which was the typical reaction from everyone he met. “Normally. But the Andarion prince is a good friend of my best friend. He assigned me here before the Grand Counsel’s death to ensure the safety of the true royal family.”

  She went pale. “Your best friend is Darling Cruel? The stupid bastard who just launched us into war against the League?”

  Maris steeled himself at words that usually sent him into a murderous frenzy. Just not against pregnant women. “Darling is one of the most intelligent men who’s ever been born. A little hot-headed, granted, but never, ever stupid. Nor is he cavalier with anyone’s life. And I was there when it all happened. The League started this war over Zarya. They wanted to keep her in prison, along with Ture, and a number of other Caronese citizens. Darling is the sole reason any of them are alive today.”

  “And I will testify to that.” Ture set a plate in front of Maris. He spoke to Anachelle. “You know I held no love of the royal family. That definitely changed when Darling, himself, along with Maris came into my prison cell and freed me and Zarya. I know of no other emperor who would have done that for anyone. And he had intended to leave in peace. But the League wouldn’t allow him to do that. I stand with our emperor and will do so until the day I die.”

  Maris arched a brow at Ture’s words.

  Ture met his gaze. “I never forget blood debts. I’ve had too many people try to hurt me to squander the decency of anyone who protects my ass.” He leaned down to whisper in Maris’s ear. “I’m as loyal to friends and family as you are.”

  Those words, combined with his close proximity, set Maris on fire again.

  Ture squeezed his hand then left them so that he could return to work.

  Maris turned his attention back to Anachelle.

  She held her hands up in surrender. “I trust Ture and as he said, I remember well how often he and Zarya wished much ill on the head of our noble leader. If you can convert them, then I’ll defer to the three of you. Obviously there’s much about the emperor I don’t know, and I’m wise enough to know better than to trust the media and their whitewashed lies.”

  “Good woman. Because Darling is one of the very few people I’d kill or die for.” He tasted his food while she went back to folding napkins.

  His eyes widened as the savory taste hit him full force. Ture had a definite gift.

  “Told you...” She beamed with a bright smile. “Ture is a god in the kitchen. It’s why they’re lined up around the block to get in.”

  “How does he do it?”

  She shrugged. “Stingy thing won’t share that info. But I’ve seen many men and women, low and highborn, begging him to marry them for his pasta dishes alone.”

  Amused with her anecdote, Maris watched Ture. He was as fierce and organized as a battle commander as he checked food temperatures, presentation, preparation, and a thousand other things that left Maris’s head reeling. It was truly an impressive feat. Ture moved like a dancer in a ballet. Graceful and good-natured. Whenever someone had a problem, Ture moved in to help and had them smiling again. Likewise, he stepped in to settle arguments between his workers. All the while maintaining a jovial temperament.

  Truly, truly impressive.

  And it was obvious that this restaurant was everything to Ture. It was here he came alive. Happiness shone in his eyes and even though he had to be exhausted, Ture had a light and easy step.

  Maris had barely finished his dinner when Ture returned with two lush desserts. One was a chocolate mountain of steaming deliciousness for Maris and a strawberry and cream parfait for Anachelle whose entire face came alight when she saw it.

  “I love you, Ture. Marry me!” She laughed as she grabbed a spoon and dug in.

  Returning her laugh, Ture kissed her on the cheek. “If I were straight, honey, I would.”

  She sighed wearily. “Why are all the good men gay or dead?”

  “Or married?” Maris asked without thinking. He cringed as she scowled at him and he realized how insensitive it was to say that to her. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  “It’s okay. I was the moron who slept with him. Which I would have never done had I known he had a wife at home. That’s what I get for thinking someone had integrity to not lie about their marital status.”

  Maris swallowed his food. “Some of us do.”

  “Yeah, but not enough.”

  He held his wine glass up to her. “I will heartily agree. I’ve had my heart carved out enough times to know whereof you speak.”

  “Yes...men suck.”

  “But not all.” Maris winked at her.

  “Present company and food gods who bring me sweets are always excluded.” She dug in again with a gleeful greed.

  As soon as they finished, Anachelle got up to take his plate. Ture appeared out of nowhere to tsk at her. Removing them from her hands, he carried them to the sink.

  Sighing, she gave Maris a droll stare. “I feel like an invalid.”

  “I think he’s taking revenge on you for the way I treated him while he was wounded.”

  She sat down. “Really?”

  “Yes, it’s true. I wouldn’t let him lift anything. I was quite demanding.”

  “He was quite annoying in a very sweet and precious way.” Ture poured him a glass of dessert wine.

  Maris frowned at him. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Depends...would it work?”

  Maris smiled. “Sorry. I know my limits and I never go near them.”

  “Too bad. But this won’t. It’s barely alcoholic and it enhances the aftertaste of the chocolate. Try it.”

  Anachelle reached for another napkin. “You might as well. He’s always right about food... People, not so much.” She took her juice from Ture’s hand. “Thank you, boss.”

  “You’re welcome.” He ran back to put out a fire.

  Literally.

  Maris started to get up, but Anachelle stopped him.

  “Don’t worry. Happens a lot with the newer chefs. Ture only freaks when it catches someone else on fire.”

  “Someone?”

  “Cooking can be deadly.”

  After a few minutes, Ture came back to the table. “Was I right about the wine, or was I right?”

  “Yes, you were. About everything. I honestly have to say that was the best meal I’ve ever eaten. Thank you so much for it.”

  Ture beamed.

  Anachelle grimaced and let out an audible groan. “Ah no, you’ve fed the beast. Mari? How could you betray me so? I have to live with that massive ego that already takes up half the apartment!”

  Ture rolled his eyes. “You need to go on home and get some sleep for me.”

  “I still have another hour on the clock.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Head on before traffic picks up.”

  She grinned at Maris. “Dang, I should have gotten knocked up by a bastard jerk a long time ago.” Rising, she paused by Ture’s side and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  Ture slung the towel in his hand over his shoulder then turned back to Maris.

  “How long have you been friends?” Maris asked.

  “A good five years. She’s an angel, but the baby’s father is the son of a senator. I don’t know which one. That bastard has made her life hell. He had her thrown out of her old apartment and has been causing all kinds of trouble for her.”

  “Why?”

  “He wants her to leave the planet and vanish. My fear is he might have her killed.”

  Maris saw red at that. “You want to move her to the palace for protection?”

  Ture cringed. “I would hate to impose.”

  “I can speak for Darling. The place is large enough no one would even know she was there. And he would extend the invitation himself if he were here, especially given it’s one of the CDS family members who’s harassing her.”

  Ture loved how protective both Maris and Darling were of those around them, even strangers. “I can ask her, but we commoners are a little intimidated by the pla
ces you frequent so naturally.”

  Maris smirked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I see nothing common about you, or Anachelle.”

  Ture smiled at the unexpected compliment. That was why he loved Maris so much. No matter what he said or did, the man made him feel special and comfortable.

  Safe and protected.

  Wanted.

  Things he hadn’t felt since he was seventeen and his father had caught him kissing his first boyfriend and thrown him out of the house.

  You’re disgusting! Damn you to hell! I can’t believe I buried my daughter and not you! Get out. I hope you die of an infection before any of my friends find out about you!

  To this day, neither of his parents would speak to him. And the cold brutality of their actions was nothing compared to the words they’d said that were still branded into his soul.

  The worst part? His parents had called his boyfriend’s mother and father to tell them, and in retaliation, his boyfriend had beaten the hell out of him for it. Ture still bore the scar on his left cheek from his boyfriend’s class ring that had torn into his face as Devilyn rained punches down on Ture’s face.

  But that was a long time ago and he refused to think of it anymore.

  Maris stood up and looked about awkwardly. “How much do I owe you for the food?”

  “No charge, love. My gift of thanks to you. For everything.”

  “Thank you, then.” Maris hesitated. “I guess I should leave you to your work.”

  “I’d rather you stay.”

  Maris swallowed hard at words that meant a lot more to him than they should. You need to go.

  But he didn’t really want to. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “We’re only open for another thirty minutes, anyway.”

  “Then I shall wait here.”

  Ture adored the way Maris phrased things. He was so proper and yet flamboyant and fun to be around. Some of it stemmed from the fact that he still wasn’t completely fluent in Universal, and some of it was that he liked to keep others off-kilter where he was concerned. “Actually, you’d probably be more comfortable in my office while we close down. I tried to get Ana to use it, but she has a weird aversion. She’s afraid the rest of the staff will hate her for her special treatment.” Ture led him to the backroom that was furnished with a small desk covered in papers and a wall monitor and comfortable leather sofa. “You don’t have to stay here, but it is where I spend a great deal of my time.”