“I would never presume to ask His Highness to accommodate my trivial preferences.”
Melek opened çir mouth, closed it again. “All right. I’ll be back in a bit, then.”
Evemer finished eating, packed all the platters up for the cadets to clear away, and made a circuit of the chambers to check the fastenings on the windows, peer out into the darkness to observe the watch pairs circle past on the garden paths and, farther away, on the walls that bounded the Gold Court.
Every now and then, there was a barely audible noise from the bedchamber.
He hadn’t really wanted to believe the rumors, but here he was, and theretheywere, not even doing him the courtesy of being loud enough that he could easily block it out. They were mostly terribly quiet about it, so that every time he settled into patient vigilance, he’d hear some rustle, or someone’s voice, and all his instincts would lock up and scream,Listen!! Danger?
Tadek was irresponsible. What if someone managed to get past all the kahyalar on the walls and in the gardens, and climbed into His Highness’s room through one of the windows? What if Tadek was distracted until it was too late?
Evemer hadn’t any call to be finding fault with His Highness’s personal affairs, but it was outright stupid to be carrying on with someone who had also proven themselves to be as useless and impulsive as Tadek. Surely His Highness couldn’t think that Tadek was any good for him—but perhaps that was the root of the attraction. Careless-flighty-negligent, after all. And there’d been that outrageous situation with the corners of the bedsheets; Tadek clearly didn’t give a damn about propriety or doing small things the way they should be done just because that was the way to do them. If he did, neither of them would have gotten into this situation, and Evemer would have gotten some other assignment.
They deserved each other.
Evemer was just starting to wonder fiercely where Melek had gone off to and whether çe was actually planning on returning when Tadek stuck his head out the door, wildly rumpled, his color high. “Oh, good,” he said, seeing Evemer. “I was hoping you were still there. Is there any food left?Nowhe says he’s hungry,” he added with an eyeroll.
“Yes,” Evemer said.
Tadek opened the door the rest of the way and Evemer stared stonily out the window. Tadek hadn’t bothered to get properly dressed again but for his trousers. “He needs to eat regularly,” he said, picking through the trays for whatever tasty bits Evemer had left. “Keep a closer eye on him in the future—sometimes you have to bully him a little, especially if he’s in one of his moods.” He picked up a platter in one hand and the wine in the other and looked around. “Hm. Also, could you pop out and get us a basin of water and some cloths?”
Evemer stared at him.
“What?” Tadek said, smirking. “Something wrong?”
“You ought to at leastattemptdiscretion,” Evemer hissed.
“But you already knew.”
There were murmurs about the sort of relationships that might occasionally develop between a kahya and their liege—the consensus was that it was only to be expected from time to time, when two people who trusted each other became close and spent a great deal of time in proximity. There were stories, too, of more than one former kahya who, upon being promoted out of the ranks of the core-guard to illustrious political office, had then married one of the people to whom they had formerly been appointed in service.
But on the other side of the coin . . . All through the time he had been in the cadets and the fringe-guard, they had gotten lectures about procedures for addressing unwanted attentions from both superiors within their own ranks and those whom they were otherwise sworn to serve. Just because such things were not unheard of did not make them entirely proper, and it certainly didn’t make them a matter that Evemer would have entrusted to two people who had already shown themselves to be careless, flighty, negligent.
But all Evemer said was “Do you think His Highness wants you to advertise it?”
“I think His Highness doesn’t want to go to sleep sticky.” Tadek swept back into the room and kicked the door closed.
Kadou opened his eyes and instantly regretted it.
Nowthatwas a hangover.
He rolled over, instinctively reaching for a pillow to shove his head beneath. His arm landed on skin rather than fabric. He cracked his eyes open again. Oh. Of course. Tadek.
Damn it.
“You awake?” Tadek mumbled. “Give me a minute, lovely.”
Kadou rolled onto his back and forced his eyes open, enduring the stabbing agony of the morning light. At least the windows were north-facing. Small mercies.
Kadou took stock of himself, of Tadek, of the bed. Respectively: naked, mostly naked, mussed to hell. He’d had a momentary hope that all that had been merely a dream. Whathadhe been thinking? Well, other than the screaming of his own mind, like shrieking violins, like the snarl of a beast made of fear that lurked around the edges of the shadows until, like last night, it could rush upon him and tear him to shreds as easily as a piece of delicate cloth. Other than how he was all Tadek had left. Other than how Tadek was the only one who knew what it was like.
Yes, that did cast a different light on it. He understood himself, at least, even if he wasn’t proud of it. His brain was slow and aching.
Tadek yawned and stretched, flexing his joints until they popped. “I could sleep in another hour or so, honestly,” he said, yawning again.
“I ought to get up,” Kadou said, pushing halfheartedly at the mattress to heave himself queasily vertical. “Breakfast. A bath. Have to talk with Eozena.” He looked blearily around the room. “Find something to do so I don’t go mad.” Avoid going outside, for fear of running into Siranos . . .
He felt Tadek’s fingertips trace down his spine and shivered. “We could take another twenty minutes or so.”