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Orin’s eyebrows went up, though his voice stayed even. “For the offense of failing to eat and falling asleep in here, I think the punishment will not be enough to take your mind off whatever is truly bothering you. What has made you bold enough, or desperate enough, to bring up the things I might do to you.” Tiiran wanted to wriggle away. Orin’s gaze held him in place. “But,” Orin brushed his thumb across Tiiran’s mouth, smiling faintly when Tiiran gasped, “tonight, you go to your room early; leave the library to someone else. No extra reading once there, either, unless it’s purely for fun. You will eat a proper meal.”

“With you?” Tiiran asked hopefully, only to pause. “That’s not punishment, is it? They used to deny me meals when I was in the scullery. Or hit me with….” He paused again because Orin was frowning. “I will eat a proper meal,” he said instead of the rest.

“Hmm.” Orin seemed inclined to pet Tiiran today, which also did not seem a punishment. “And you will wear your hair down tonight and all other nights where it will not get in your way.”

“My hair down?” Tiiran lowered his gaze and ran his tongue anxiously over his chipped tooth. “People will comment.”

“On how beautiful it is?” Orin knew what people would say but asked that anyway.

Tiiran glanced up. “I can wear it down only for you?”

Orin shook his head. “In the evenings, when it won’t get in your way, you will wear it down so it will ease your head and neck and make you less tense.”

“Oh.” A strange punishment to benefit him and make him feel better. Tiiran reached up to pull out his hairpin, then shoved it into his pocket while his hair fell around his ears in an embarrassingly big cloud.

Orin’s approval left him flushed.

“You say, ‘Yes, Orin,’” Orin instructed. “At least in moments like these.”

“Yes, Orin,” Tiiran echoed doubtfully, as if he hadn’t shivered on the words. “If that’s what your ducklings do.”

“And now, there is that .” Orin considered Tiiran for another moment, tipping Tiiran’s chin up even higher, until Tiiran nearly went onto his toes. It should have been uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable. Yet Tiiran was so warm now he almost forgot about the tangle. “Ducklings?” Orin pressed.

“Your friends .” Tiiran swallowed. “Or at least, what the other outguards called your lovers who… do as you say. They said, well, they implied you have others—which of course you do. You have others even here, I’m sure. They called them your ducklings.”

Orin looked briefly contemplative. “How kind of my friends to make it sound as if I collect pretty things on my travels.”

Tiiran suspected his expression was as sour as Niksa’s on a rainy day. “I’m sure you do. You don’t need to pretend you don’t.” They were probably all as pretty as Nikoly and just as eager.

Orin released him, then smiled with just one corner of his mouth when Tiiran didn’t step away. “ Ducklings implies youth. But I don’t go around taking only lovers who are younger than me. My friends ,” he said the word as if they were not his friends at all, “call these ‘others’ ducklings because they like to follow.”

“They like to do what you tell them to do,” Tiiran corrected. “I know that much from how you are, and what Nikoly said.” He shook his head quickly, stepping back at last before he was even more foolish. “You like telling people what to do, in this manner at least. It pleases you, even with someone like me who doesn’t understand. Your others are probably much better. You’re very patient with me.” Even Nikoly had seen that, and Nikoly and Orin hadn’t met. Tiiran should be grateful that Orin bothered. He cleared his throat. “I ought to go downstairs and check on things, though I’m sure Po has it all handled. I could bring you some food and tea, if you like.”

“Tiiran.” Orin’s tone more than his use of Tiiran’s proper name stopped him. “There are quite a few ducklings out there in all the territories in the country, but there is only one kitten—and not all of those ducklings are interested in me, although I thank you for the compliment.” Tiiran was blanketed in warmth even while he could hear the affectionate amusement in Orin’s voice. “I am happy to give them what they want, but what I do with them would never be like what I do with you… or what I would like to do with you.”

That was an invitation for Tiiran to ask, if he had more questions, which Orin surely knew he did. Orin seemed to be able to read what was in Tiiran’s mind and in his heart without any trouble, even though Tiiran had looked away so the color of his eyes would be hidden.

If Tiiran asked Orin about the things he did with others, or perhaps even how that made Orin feel, Orin would tell him. If he asked what Orin wanted to do with Tiiran, Orin would answer that too.

“Have I pushed too much?” Orin asked when Tiiran didn’t speak. “You’ve come so far, but I can wait longer.”

Tiiran shoved his hair behind his ears. “Aren’t you tired of always doing these things for… for others? It’s not exhausting for you?”

Orin didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his words were slow. “Admittedly, at times, I’m not interested. Or yes, I’m tired and not capable of giving what is expected of me. But I like being asked, and I like providing—most of the time. Look at me, kitten.”

Tiiran raised his eyes.

Orin’s approval was exactly like sitting in Orin’s lap, held tight in his arms. “For me, it’s beyond pleasurable to give them what they want, to hurt them as they plead for me to, as they cry or beg or finish at my command. Is that what you want to know? Dear Tiiran, you’re the only one to ever ask if I am taken care of.”

Tiiran put his hands to his cheeks. “I know you are taken care of .” He wanted to shout it. “I’m sure they leap to suck your cock or take you inside. I meant…”

“I know what you meant, and I’m telling you, there’s no need to worry over that too. Tiiran,” Orin spoke the name the way he spoke of poetry, “I have never felt less than cared for with you, even when you’re hissing at me.”

Tiiran stared up, barely blinking, his face so hot he might have been standing in the noon sun.

“ Hissing ,” Tiiran repeated, unsurprised at the less than flattering description of himself. “I do hiss. And I scratch. I even bite, on occasion.” He touched his tongue to the edge of his tooth. “I’m not like you and I’m not like…. Orin,” he looked up again, only vaguely concerned with what shade his eyes might be, “I think I know a duckling.”

“You have known several if the library tales are true,” Orin returned immediately. He was teasing now, trying to make Tiiran smile. Then something went through his eyes and his smile changed. “You think you know a duckling.” He nodded slowly, thoughtfully, and then he was the one to look away. “A handsome duckling, by any chance? Is he a friend by now?”

He turned back toward Tiiran when Tiiran couldn’t find the right words that weren’t also lies.

“Not like how we are friends,” Tiiran said at last. “He’s kind, although I don’t understand him.” Tiiran never understood anyone, even himself. “You probably would, and like him for the things he says and does. He is straightforward, but I wouldn’t say he was honest. He’s careful, similar to how you are, although you are often speaking of Outguard business and he is… a librarian. A training librarian, really. He hasn’t even been here a year.”

“And has ruffled your feathers?” Orin guessed.

Tiiran wrinkled his nose. “A cat or a bee, I’d still have no feathers!”

Orin raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, but was only momentarily distracted by Tiiran’s outburst. “But you like him and might call him a friend, honest or not?”

“I wouldn’t describe you as honest, either,” Tiiran said bluntly. “Though I trust you.”

“Ah.” Orin briefly closed his eyes. “Thank you for that.”

“I trust you with our books. I could have stopped that practice, you know.” Tiiran raised his head for a moment of confidence, then dropped it to consider the view before him, which happened to be Orin’s chest. “I did dangerous things in front of him,” he confessed quietly. “Library matters. Because I suspected he wouldn’t mind. You wouldn’t mind, either, except for the slight risk to me. I let him see that, but then I…. I’m a bother. I require a great deal of forbearance. I couldn’t even share a room for long when I first got here because the sort of people who become assistants are not used to sharing rooms with the sort of people who clean floors. I didn’t understand them.”

“Tiiran?”

“I’m no good at pretending to be like them, even now. I’m not what either of you think I am.” Tiiran’s forced the quaver from his voice, then brought his head up. “I should get you something to eat since I won’t let you leave.” He paused, hearing himself. “Did you want to leave? You could go wash up, and then if you wanted to return, you could make sure I get a meal by walking me to the kitchens. If that’s not too much.”

“I would like that.” Orin’s gaze was so clear and sharp that he undoubtedly saw Tiiran’s relief, though Tiiran tried to hide it. “As I would also like to sit with you and share the meal together. But we are not done no matter how you try to distract me. You’ve not been entirely honest with me, have you? There’s more.”

“Leydo used to enjoy finding disorganized messes and straightening them out too,” Tiiran muttered, as if he also didn’t enjoy setting chaos to rights. “But even Leydo got tired of them.”

“Leydo?” Orin prompted.

“One of those who left,” Tiiran explained quickly. “She apparently trained Nikoly—and badly at that.” Good riddance.

“Nikoly,” Orin said. Just that. As if Tiiran had said the name a lot and Orin had noted it and decided it was time to speak on it.

Tiiran stalked away from him, paced for three steps, then returned to stand in front of him.

“Must you notice everything?”

Orin huffed. “The others—my actual friends in the Outguard, like to joke that they should create a position within the Outguard just for me. When there are situations and puzzles that cannot be handled by a regular guard with other places to visit, they should send me in to observe as you all say I do.”

“And ask your deliberate Orin questions?” Tiiran immediately guessed. “That would suit you.” He worked through the idea, already frowning. “Though it would also take you away for longer, wouldn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Orin answered with a shrug. “There’s no ruler likely to bother as things are now.” Orin’s tone said he would not be moved from the subject of the tangle inside Tiiran that Orin always seemed to see. “Why don’t you sit down—at the table if you need the space from me.”

“Clever Orin,” Tiiran breathed, stepping back toward the table but not pulling out a chair to sit.

“That’s what Arden always says,” Orin agreed, calm and measured, gaze steady and watchful. “Sit, Tiiran.”

Tiiran pulled out a chair without looking and sat.

“Thank you.” At least Orin appreciated that Tiiran wouldn’t have done that for anyone else. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“But I want to and you know it.” Tiiran was a wretched little beast. “But I don’t want to only be a problem to you. Should I go to the capital as the others do and learn there? Eat fried potatoes and drink cider while I watch…?” He cut himself off. Orin should have pressed, asked the obvious question. Tiiran sighed heavily when he did not. “What if you didn’t have to be gentle with me all the time? What if I were better?”

“Better?” Orin shook his head. “You are who you are, kitten, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like that. And I’m not alone there, am I?”

A smart ruler would use someone like Orin to seek out the eyes-and-ears acting as true spies and any other bad actors, though that might mean more danger for Orin. Tiiran distractedly considered the issue before taking a deep breath to answer Orin’s implied question. “I don’t know.”

Orin did not appear fazed by that. “Do you have things that need to get done before we take the time to talk about this?”

Tiiran crossed his arms. “If the others can take the time to fuck, I can certainly take the time to at least do this.”

Orin, still being gentle with him, didn’t call attention to Tiiran’s at least . “Tell me about your duckling.”

Tiiran dropped his head to consider the tacked and pinned hem of his robe. He bit his lip. Being held by Orin might have steadied him, but he didn’t think he deserved it. Which was a whole separate confusing feeling he didn’t want to ask about now because then Orin would wonder what Tiiran felt he did deserve.

The heat stinging through his face and down his neck was not a surprise.

“I’m not searching for ducklings or anything,” he insisted while Orin watched him blush. “Is there something else we can call them?” Distracted, he raised his head. “What do you normally call them?”

“Partners,” Orin returned, somehow not making Tiiran feel foolish for asking. “Bed partners often. Lovers as well, quite often.”

Tiiran wasn’t any of those. So those names would not do. He was hardly Orin’s partner . “Partner in what, anyway?” He grumbled as if he wasn’t genuinely curious.

“Partner in the games we play,” Orin answered, patient.

“Well, he’s not that. With me.” Tiiran forced out a laugh. “Obviously.”

“Obviously?” Orin’s expression was mild.

Tiiran studied him suspiciously. “I’m not like you. Patient and… and… commanding and knowing. I’m just…”

“Bossy?” Orin suggested. “Some like bossy. The particulars of how the game is played are up to the people playing it.”

“I don’t play games.” Tiiran uncrossed his arms just to cross them again. But he had just played one with Orin, hadn’t he? “Or… not as you do.”

“Hmm, you’re very flustered again, kitten. Like you were earlier.”

“Relentless.” Tiiran was too embarrassed to hiss effectively. Orin would never look sorry anyway. “He says things,” Tiiran admitted at last, feeling new to the library all over again. “Does things. That make me think….” That Nikoly would look pretty with tears in his eyes. “He says that he would like it—that he does like it when I tell him that he’s good and…. It’s confusing. I thought he was teasing until today.” Tiiran ground his teeth together and uncrossed his arms to scrub his burning cheeks. “You should meet him.” His heart seemed to stop the moment after he bit that out. He hid behind his hands for one safe moment. “You would know what to do. Be better.”

“Better.” Orin repeated it the way he’d repeated Nikoly’s name, pointed but soft. “Do you want me to meet him, kitten?”

Tiiran swallowed.

“He’s handsome,” he informed Orin, strangled. “Everyone says so. People come up to him and won’t go away—until he wants them to, because he knows what he’s doing. He’s charming about it, even if he is helpful. I mean, at the desk, when he uses how charming he is to calm people down.”

For Tiiran, because Tiiran had angered them.

“And when he brings you food?” It was a question, but Orin wasn’t guessing.

Tiiran met his eyes and hoped Orin would understand everything and not make him speak anymore. But Orin stayed quiet, which meant he thought Tiiran ought to say it all out loud.

Orin was charming too, but in a mean way.

“He’s very helpful,” Tiiran said again to be stubborn. “To everyone.” But especially to Tiiran. “He says… he says he wants to be my friend.” It came out in a rush. “But I’m sure he won’t stay long. He’s a merchant’s son or something, and has money… and some comfort. He’s probably looking for a calling but isn’t sure the library is it. Although he can do the work!” Tiiran didn’t want Orin to get the wrong idea about Nikoly just because Nikoly had some money. “He calls himself well trained, says he was wild as a boy and had to be taught not to be, along with a bunch of other things. He’s knowledgeable, and has skills I haven’t even learned all of yet, and he’s personable.”

“And handsome.”

Tiiran growled a little. “That is a horrible thing, which you wouldn’t know, because you are Orin Vahti and even other outguards are in awe of you.” That this statement, compared to everything else he’d just said, would make Orin look startled, was something else Tiiran would consider later or not at all. “But for someone like me, I’m certain I look even worse next to him. Although,” he added in a grumble, “he would never say so since he has manners I do not. He’s not bent toward philosophy or poetry like you, but he observes things.” Tiiran had never actually realized that about Nikoly before, but it was true. He watched and used what he learned—even if it was merely to find the tea Tiiran liked. “You two would likely get along,” he finished, still not answering Orin’s question.

“He has made my kitten spike up his fur, though his claws are not out,” Orin remarked thoughtfully, no doubt perfectly aware of how hearing ‘my kitten’ made Tiiran hot under his clothes. “So yes, I think we would. Do you want to fetch him now?”

Tiiran jumped.

“Now?” He met Orin’s expectant stare, felt judged, and narrowed his eyes before he could think better of it. Orin only continued to regard him evenly, waiting, Tiiran imagined, for Tiiran to either say no or explain why he was nervous.

Which was when Tiiran realized he was nervous. Followed by the realization that Orin already knew that and probably also why.

“Orin.” His voice was shaky.

“Perhaps get yourself some tea or something to snack on, and bring him up here.” The suggestion was so reasonable Tiiran hated it. “Or, if you’d prefer, we could all meet up later. In a garden or out in the capital.”

“Out?” Tiiran nearly jumped again. “At night?”

Orin’s eyes lit up with amusement, although he was serious again almost immediately. “If it’s important to you, Tiiran, I will meet him.”

“I never said it was important to me.” Tiiran got to his feet because his limbs were trembling and enervated, but then he didn’t move. “You could probably use some tea, so I will go see about that.” He still hadn’t moved. “ Orin ,” he complained a moment later.

“Tiiran?”

The soft sound of Tiiran’s name carried through the quiet space. It came from outside the nook, probably all the way from the landing at the top of the stairs to this level.

The voice was Nikoly’s.