Page 37 of Nine-Tenths

I wrack my brains and realize his 'estate' is a twenty minute drive from Beanevolence, in the middle of vineyard country. I assumed he lived within walking distance. Why else would he even know Beanevolence exists? But I've never seen a car.

Maybe he flies in.I imagine Dav with big leathery wings protruding from his back, soaring in the mist above Niagara Falls, dancing in and out of the mist plumes. He's being serious with me right now, though, so I cover my grin by taking another big bite of my burger. Half the topping squirts out the bottom.

"Of course, because I manage an estate, it is only right that I have a housekeeper for the house, a manager for the farm, ahead vintner for the grapes, and a winemaker for my cellars," Dav goes on softly. "It's all very proper. And so even at home, I have nothing todo."

"And you're not involved in, like, I dunno, local government or BIAs? I thought there’s always a dragon on committees and stuff."

"No." He's actuallysquirming.

"So what does this have to do with you liking how I serve?"

Dav puffs out a breath. He stares out at the street, watching the passersby. He's not avoiding my question, he's trying to figure out how to answer it, so I let him be as I try to shove the pickles back in my bun with mustardy fingers.

Why did Dav ever kiss my hand?

At length he says, "Along with the desire to hoard comes one to serve that which one hoards. One creates a community and then one…protectsit. Cares for it. But I am—" he stops, voice crackling, the rims of his eyes red, his face splotchy. "I am unnecessary."

"Dav, you're not—"

"Please, Colin." He holds up a polite hand. I splutter to a stop. "You do not know our society, and I know you mean well, but believe me when I say I amutterlyunnecessary. I am an unneeded soldier, saddled with vital but meaningless territory, with no place within the politics of the country or the legacy of my family."

The way he phrases it, it sounds like he's repeating something he's been told. And if that's true, then that's fucking awful. An invisible fist of pity and grief for Dav squeezes the top of my lungs. Some family, if they call him 'unnecessary' to his face.

"That's… harsh." I want to comfort him, but I don't know what I'm supposed to be—or allowed to be—saying here. "But I know you. You're compassionate. You're clever. You can do more than just be a soldier."

"No, Colin, I can't. There was a, hrm, a disgrace, and I am prevented from… participation. Perhaps one day I'll be asked to, ah, contribute to the propagation of the bloodline… but I doubt it."

I have no fucking clue what to do withthat. Ask what the disgrace was? No, if he wanted me to know, he'd tell me. Make a crack about propagating the branches of his family tree? No, I don't actually want to think about him having sex with anyone who isn't me.

He looks wretched, and fuck if it doesn't make my heart do a somersault. I want to say something cheeky, something sharp and funny, but when I open my mouth what comes out is: "If I can ask…" I say slowly, waiting for his nod. "What do you mean, unneeded soldier?"

"My only purpose is to fight." He spreads his hands. "And there is no war on this soil at present."

Great. Now Ihave no appetite.

"You just sit around and wait for the bombs to fall?"

"Essentially."

"Fuck, that's bleak. So you come in and torture yourself by watching me do what you're not allowed to?"

Dav makes a noise that sounds more like a sob than he'd probably like to admit. "At least the scenery is fetching."

My heart gives up on somersaults and starts cartwheeling.

Fetching.

Fuuuuuck.

"You are very good at what you do," Dav says. His shoulders have dropped, as if he's set down a heavy burden for the first time. "There is a nobility in serving. The essential workers of The Great Pause taught us that, if nothing else."

My stupid jar-handle ears go red. "I'm just a barista."

"You're much more than that," Dav admonishes, that furrow beside his mouth deep and honest.I want to kiss it, I thinksuddenly, and bury my stupid face in my own lunch before I pull some sort of complete numbskull move and try. "People come into Beanevolence grumpy, or upset, or stressed from their work day, and you take the time to offer them a smile, to hand them a cup. You love everyone you serve, and in that moment when you connect, when your eyes meet, they love you back."

"The heart-eyes are for the caffeine."

"Don't sell yourself short," Dav says, and then turns his attention back to the window.