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Wide-eyed, Tiiran turned to Orin, who looked toward the entrance to the nook with a serious expression.

“Tiiran?” Nikoly called out, closer this time. “I wasn’t sure if they were needed, but I brought bandages and salve, along with some tea. I can leave them here if you like.”

Orin looked to Tiiran with one eyebrow arched. Tiiran gave him a grumpy huff in reply that only made Orin laugh. Since that sound would doubtlessly confuse Nikoly, Tiiran huffed again before raising his head to answer. “Come here, Nikoly.” The order made him jolt, and probably confused Nikoly even more. “If you don’t mind,” he added quickly, glaring at Orin until he at least stopped laughing.

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Orin murmured, as if to explain himself. Then said, “Tiiran, sit,” in tone that brooked no argument.

Tiiran, who had jumped to his feet when he’d heard Nikoly, did not sit, not right away. First, he stared with foolish longing at Orin’s lap and thought about how anything he said while Orin held him surely didn’t count, so Nikoly likely wouldn’t mind.

Then he sat. In a chair away from Orin, so he would say less.

He started saying things anyway. “I’m nervous, Orin. Do you know why I’m nervous?”

Orin didn’t lose his smile. “You’re a confused alley cat being offered a place by the fire that you aren’t sure isn’t a trap. You can ask me whatever you want, you know that.”

“But I shouldn’t have to!” Tiiran practically hissed it, which probably amused Orin more. “I should be…”

“Better?” Orin filled in, then turned before Tiiran could hiss at him again.

Nikoly stood at the entrance to the nook, holding a tray with both hands.

Nikoly’s dark, finely embroidered robe was open, as was the top of his shirt beneath, the laces undone. The sunshine, which found him because it always found him, turned the markings around his collar to tantalizing shadows and made his skin look warm to the touch. He was not as tall as Orin, but having that height and being ridiculously handsome meant he attracted attention. He certainly had Orin’s.

And Tiiran’s, but Tiiran ignored that the way he did his best to ignore how Nikoly’s gaze went first to him, and then to Orin, too large in his too small seat. Nikoly’s eyes widened, or so it seemed to Tiiran. His lips parted. A dazzling smile was likely about to emerge.

Tiiran slumped his shoulders and turned from him, though that gave him only Orin to stare at and Orin was busy studying Nikoly.

“Should you even be lifting a heavy tray?” Tiiran muttered, eyes away from any sunflowers. “I told you to rest your wrists.”

“It’s not heavy for me,” Nikoly returned pleasantly, then came forward, stopping once closer to Tiiran. “But I’ll be careful,” he went on, waiting until Tiiran looked up before smiling. “Would you like your tea on the table?”

Hit by that deliberately stupefying smile, Tiiran remembered his usual remark about not being like an asshole Master Keeper who demanded such services long after he should have said it. Nikoly put down the tray and neatly set aside bandages and several jars and vials of ointments or salves for injuries. The teapot he left on the tray, next to the cups, of which there were only two. He hadn’t brought one for himself.

Tiiran shook his head but couldn’t question that now, not with Nikoly there being beautiful and Orin being silent.

Which Orin must have somehow known Tiiran was worried about, because he spoke. “Very thoughtful. Marvelously helpful.” He ignored Tiiran’s brief narrow-eyed look. “Thank him, Tiiran. He’s been good.”

Nikoly jerked his head up, turning toward Orin before quickly looking to Tiiran.

Tiiran swallowed, but did what Orin had suggested he do as the two of them stared at him. “Thank you, Nikoly. This was good of you.”

Nikoly pulled in a deep breath, then glanced to Orin again. Orin wasn’t smiling anymore. Tiiran couldn’t tell if Orin was upset or simply waiting for Tiiran to do something else. Which Tiiran probably should do. Such as introduce them properly.

“Nikoly Astvan, this is Elorin Vahti, known as Orin.”

“Honored to meet you,” Nikoly said immediately with a polite nod.

“Astvan?” Orin repeated, curious. “From Rossick territory?” He raised his eyebrows at Tiiran. “Minor nobility—very minor, no need for you to get up in arms, little cat.”

Tiiran did not get up in arms, though he did make a shocked sound.

“Is it so terrible to you that I’m noble?” Nikoly wondered. “You adore Mattin.”

A scoff escaped Tiiran as he opened and closed his mouth. Nikoly had known Tiiran didn’t recognize his family name and hadn’t informed him it was noble, so he must have guessed Tiiran wouldn’t like that information, something that made Tiiran feel like the worst sort of snobby beat-of-four. That made no sense but there it was. “How minor?” he asked feebly.

“ Kitten .” The surprisingly stern reprimand from Orin brought Tiiran’s head up in time to catch Nikoly’s eyes widening.

Tiiran looked to the shelves of books around them. “I suppose it doesn’t matter too much,” he allowed, “as long as you don’t try to give me orders.”

“I won’t give you orders.” The promise tricked Tiiran into meeting Nikoly’s eyes. Then Tiiran realized he was staring, that he had no idea how long he’d been staring or why he was breathing so hard. Then he was suddenly, painfully aware of the silence from Orin.

He cleared his throat. “Tea, Orin?”

“Not at the moment, thank you. Why doesn’t Nikoly stay to drink with you?” Orin seemed friendly and yet Tiiran was made of shivers. Anything, a brush of cloth, a whisper of air, would have made him shake.

“Oh,” was all he could seem to say.

“If it pleases Tiiran,” Nikoly answered, quiet, with his chin up. But it took him a moment to drag his gaze away from Orin.

Tiiran flapped a hand and then floundered for words like a wantwit goose. “Yes. All right. I mean, we should have been having tea soon anyway.”

“We have breaks in the library now thanks to Tiiran,” Nikoly explained to Orin, although he kept his attention on his work of pouring a cup for Tiiran and handing it to him. “We often have them together.”

“I didn’t make that happen,” Tiiran objected. “The breaks for food or tea were something everyone decided on.”

Orin’s gaze settled on him. Tiiran trembled so much it would have rattled his cup in a saucer if Nikoly had bothered with saucers. He didn’t because Tiiran didn’t. Saucers were just another dish to clean as far as Tiiran was concerned, even though he didn’t work near a kitchen anymore.

“Has he told you about the changes he’s made?” Nikoly continued to Orin, pausing only to also hand Tiiran a biscuit. “I suggested he tell you. He values your opinion.”

“I’m sure he was getting to it.” Orin’s tone stayed mild, unassuming, until he went on. “Did the others really decide to take regular breaks on their own or did Tiiran initiate things?”

“They follow Tiiran’s lead.” There was so much pride in Nikoly’s voice that Tiiran squawked. “He cares for them a great deal, and they care for him. Almost like a family.”

Orin sighed with pleasure. “You see, kitten?” Tiiran didn’t see anything. “Your tea,” Orin prompted, possibly in response to Tiiran’s scowl.

Tiiran wasn’t in frowning because he hadn’t had his tea, but blew over the top of the tea and took a drink.

“I chose a calming blend. Not spring tea.” Nikoly told Tiiran… or Orin. He glanced to Tiiran but Tiiran recognized when Nikoly was being charming on purpose. He might have been showing off. So many wanted Orin’s attention, and now that Nikoly had a good look at him and heard Tiiran describe what a friend he was, he probably wanted it too.

Tiiran swallowed the hard lump his tea had become as he glanced between the two of them. Nikoly was effortlessly beautiful, although he did work to win people over. Tiiran had never considered him scheming before, but he was, in his way. Not for anything terrible, or for political nonsense, probably, unless he was that sort of noble. But Tiiran had told Orin that Nikoly was trustworthy, if not honest, and that had not changed.

Then there was Orin, who also withheld things, like information “for Tiiran’s safety” or even a great deal of his own power when he was with people he didn’t want to intimidate. He sat in that chair that didn’t fit him, like a beast choosing, for the moment, to stay in its cage. His observant, banked fire of a gaze was on Nikoly and he was smiling.

Nikoly was pretty and controlled as Tiiran would never be, and Orin had probably already figured out how to take that control from him and turn him into the shivering, crying, still-pretty mess Tiiran had often imagined Nikoly could be.

“Did you not need the bandages?” Nikoly continued to Orin. “I admit, you seemed well enough to me.” He paused when Tiiran swung a glare over to him but stayed charming. “I brought them anyway because I thought it might put your mind at ease to tend to him, Tiiran.”

Tiiran wanted to cross his arms at Orin’s warm approval at that , but he was holding a cup of a tea and a biscuit and couldn’t.

Tiiran was in no mood to be teased. Nor did he want to be appeased with pity bandages —though they might have worked if Orin had needed tending to. But obviously, one didn’t ask for Tiiran to do such things, especially not with Nikoly there being helpful. And handsome.

“There’s nothing wrong with worrying,” he insisted. “You show up clearly having been in a fight,” he added to Orin, ready to spit and hiss if need be and not wanting to be handled by either of them. He’d had a real reason to worry, and it didn’t matter that anxiety made his “temper” worse, or that both of them apparently knew this.

All of Orin’s attention was back on Tiiran now. “A scrape,” he insisted.

Tiiran sneered. “Nobody gets in a scrape with an outguard. I’ve been in scrapes.”

Orin’s attention sharpened. “Have you?”

“Yes.” Tiiran opened his mouth to touch his tongue to his broken tooth as evidence. “I bite.”

Orin slouched down slightly, satisfied. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

“Did you bite into bone?” Nikoly returned to Tiiran’s side to peer at him in concern. “Is that what chipped your tooth?”

“Try not to hit bone next time, kitten,” Orin added. “Though I assume this person deserved it.”

“Fuck yes,” Tiiran assured both of them immediately, but then paused to really consider it as an adult and not an angry child. “People with a small amount of power are eager to show it by harassing those with less power than them. In this case, a noble’s Head of House who didn’t think I was working hard enough. I was ill at the time but he decided to motivate me with the handle of a mop. I objected. He didn’t like that, so I objected again… with my teeth.”

Orin’s stillness hid all manner of thoughts, something that likely intimidated anyone he’d ever questioned. “I don’t suppose you remember their name?”

“The noble, or the Head of House?” Tiiran regarded them both in confusion. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” Nikoly’s voice shook with anger.

Orin was calmer but somehow also furious. “You’ll find such things are actually the job of the Outguard to note and report. It goes to the magistrate, or mayor, or noble, whoever is the official in charge. And if nothing is done, then it could, in theory, go all the way to the ruler.”

“Oh, yes,” Tiiran remembered. “The founding of the Outguard was tied to the first ruler, and those were part of the reasons given. If the person in charge committed the injustice, then people needed to have someone to tell, somewhere to seek justice for themselves.” The histories didn’t mention who people were supposed to go to when the ruler was the one committing the injustice, but he supposed that was also the job of the Outguard. He wondered if the Outguard knew that, although that seemed like the kind of question to make Mattin worriedly murmur about treason.

“The Outguard were founded to collect information without noble interference and then the Great Library was founded shortly thereafter to record it all,” he informed Nikoly, then remembered that, as a noble, Nikoly probably knew that already.

Nikoly ignored his small lecture anyway, speaking quietly but fiercely. “It’s not only about general justice. It also matters because he hurt you. People shouldn’t hurt those in their care, and they shouldn’t hurt you , Tiiran.”

Orin spoke quietly, giving Tiiran a moment to pull his gaze from Nikoly. “Thank you for thinking of the bandages, Nikoly. And the tea for him, as well as the biscuit he’s not eating.”

“What?” Tiiran asked a moment later around a mouthful of honey-and-oat-flour biscuit. “Why did you say that? Are you leaving?”

Orin hadn’t moved, but the words had held the tone of a farewell. He watched Tiiran chew and then swallow before glancing to Nikoly, still at Tiiran’s side.

“It was thoughtful of you to bring all this,” Orin went on, not acknowledging Tiiran.

Nikoly dropped his chin in a bashful movement Tiiran was well familiar with. If Tiiran looked closer, he would see a hint of a flush on Nikoly’s face. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t. Tiiran doesn’t accept help from just anyone.” Orin met Tiiran’s indignant stare and his expression held no apologies. If anything, he seemed proud.

Nikoly was practically buzzing with sudden energy before he put his shoulders back and calmed. “I am honored. He’s worthy to serve.”

Tiiran’s limbs were jittery, as though he’d had spring tea and no food all day. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to thank Nikoly again or if Nikoly and Orin were being clever and not speaking about bandages at all.

In the end, he drank some tea to clear crumbs from his throat and said, to the remaining piece of biscuit, “It doesn’t matter who I bit in any case. It wasn’t far away—I’ve only ever been in the capital. But it was a decade ago.”

Orin dismissed that as Tiiran should have guessed he would. “It’s not a matter of vengeance. It’s a matter of other children under the control of such a person.”

“Oh.” Tiiran had about as much brains as a dough-cake. “Yes, then, I suppose. Fuck them. Old Pilor at the Monamylin estate in the capital. But you said to stay out of trouble.”

“This is normal trouble.” Orin was firm, though he glanced to Nikoly before he went on. “And… if the noble family decides to complain about an Outguard investigation to the ruler, and the ruler considers this a problem, then there is no point to the Outguard any longer. Which is a far larger problem.”

Tiiran clutched his cup to his chest.

Nikoly seemed slightly alarmed. After darting a glance behind him toward the entrance to the nook, he gave Orin a steady look. “That is the purpose of the Outguard. One of them, anyway. But we have no reason to believe Piya would not honor his role.” That part he said louder, intending to be overheard, although Tiiran didn’t think anyone was there.

If they were, then they were eavesdropping, and also possibly an eyes-and-ears of the more malicious kind.

Orin regarded Nikoly with admiration. “Finally, Tiiran befriends someone who knows how to be careful.” He ignored Tiiran’s objection, still focused on Nikoly. His tone grew amused. “Do you also need permission to sit?”

Nikoly looked to Tiiran, eyes bright.

“Don’t tease him, Orin,” Tiiran said crossly, staring into those pretty eyes. “Nikoly, sit.”

Nikoly moved to the other side of the table to get the remaining chair and drag it closer to Tiiran. Tiiran absently ate the rest of the biscuit in his hand, only to have it replaced by another the moment before Nikoly sat down.

“Thank you,” Tiiran said as best as he could without spilling crumbs from the biscuit still in his mouth. He glanced to Orin, who had not been offered food, but Orin was watchful and blank again. “What do nobles think about the founding of the Outguard? Is there a biscuit for Orin?”

“I’m fine, kitten, but thank you. I see you found time to do some reading.”

“Only a little.” Tiiran finally swallowed the last of the first biscuit. “So far, I haven’t seen what anyone says would have happened if the first ruler had been as corrupt as the Earls he replaced. I guess we were lucky he wasn’t a horse thief or something. It’s a flaw without an answer, I bet. It’s built into everything from the ground up. I mean, it started with fighting and executions and the seizing of power.” He nibbled the next biscuit. “You know, people judge the Canamorra, but they are more than their history. They are everyone’s history. The same system that says those actions are acceptable, even admirable, in a ruler, means if the Canamorra had succeeded in their coup, would as many have objected? Would it even be treason? It’s part of our system as it stands. They just failed, no different from any of the others who had tried for or held and lost the throne in my time here.”

The room was quiet. Tiiran looked up from his biscuit, first to Orin, then to Nikoly.

Nikoly blinked quickly several times before turning almost desperately toward Orin.

“I said to be careful,” Orin said softly. “For fuck’s sake.”

Tiiran’s stomach tightened uncomfortably, so he put the biscuit on the table. “Was that not careful?” They only continued to stare at him, Orin finally breaking it to glance toward the nook entrance. What Tiiran had said was apparently something not meant to be overheard. “Mattin knows the flowers. I prefer to maintain the greenhouse they are in. I wonder who planted the seeds and why—and how to do it better, if possible. That’s all I’m good at.”

Nikoly sucked in a long breath, then leaned over as if about to put a hand on Tiiran’s shoulder. “You can’t say such things around others, Tiiran. Please .”

“Don’t say please.” Please made Tiiran want to give Nikoly things. “Is it so dangerous? It’s just what is.”

Orin growled. “You have seen for yourself what nobles will do if they don’t like ‘what is.’”

Tiiran’s eyes unexpectedly began to sting. He took a sip of tea to hide his face.

“Did he eat today?” Orin asked—about Tiiran as though Tiiran wasn’t in front of him. “Besides that biscuit, I mean.”

“Breakfast at least.” Apparently seeing nothing wrong with Orin’s manner, Nikoly answered him, then picked up Tiiran’s abandoned biscuit to hand it to him.

Tiiran took it but spitefully chose not to eat it. “Does your wrist ache?” He refused to glance over to Nikoly. “You shouldn’t do any more writing today, and probably do something else tomorrow as well. Binding books for the others, or cleaning. Anyway,” he continued loudly over Nikoly’s low, “Yes, Tiiran,” “I was surprised to learn the Outguard and the Great Library were so closely linked. But I suppose, they’d have to exist alongside each other, if rulers wanted access to information that didn’t come from nobles they couldn’t trust. It’s interesting the library has never been overrun with nobles. They probably don’t like working. But you’d think some would try to influence the information here. Maybe some had. Or had tried to. Maybe that’s why Lanth was so insistent on… oh .”

“There is a biscuit in your hand. Eat it, please.” Please from Orin was different from a please from Nikoly. It wasn’t asking. “And take a moment to actually taste it.”

“Yes, Orin.” Tiiran took a bite, letting the texture soften and the oats-and-honey flavor grow and fade before he swallowed and looked up. He belatedly considered that Nikoly was seeing him take orders from Orin, and flushed hot as he looked over.

Nikoly stared back at him, gaze golden.

“What I was going to say,” Tiiran had to look away so he peeked toward the entrance again, “was that Lanth thought it was worth dying for. To her, knowing the history, the library was truth and some notion about justice. That was equal to her life as far as she was concerned. Not me—I mean, not the others here. She valued the library more.”

Nikoly touched Tiiran’s knee. “Tiiran?”

“I suppose anyone would choose that over m—over life. I mean, anyone who grew up knowing about those things and believing in them. You don’t learn or care about high-minded ideals scrubbing toilets and hauling firewood.” Tiiran thought vaguely that at least this finally explained why Tye had been so focused on the library. To her, the library was a tool for the rulers, there to be used for any reason, even to legitimize her reign.

He had some tea, which was unpleasantly cool. “We should really tell assistants this when they are brought in. But then, it’s just a job, isn’t it?”

“Not to you, honeybee.”

Tiiran raised his head and looked to Nikoly.

“ Honey Bee ?” Orin echoed, a certain hoarseness in his voice. “Like the song?”

“Bee,” Tiiran insisted, unaware of any song. “Po calls me that and now the others do sometimes. Only Nikoly says honeybee.”

Nikoly lifted his chin.

“Because he’s more than the sting?” Orin had his attention on Nikoly too.

“Tiiran is also sweet.” Nikoly was quietly defiant.

Orin agreed on a sigh. “Yes, he is.”

“You would think people would be afraid of me,” Tiiran said too loudly, watching them watch each other. “He admits I sting and yet here he is anyway.”

Nikoly glanced at him. “New to the capital and the palace, I arrived at the library with a letter of introduction from my mentor, and walked in to find Tiiran humiliating some scholar or noble—I don’t know which one; I haven’t seen him since.

Po stepped in to lead me away, and then later, properly introduced me to Tiiran, who looked me up and down, and said,” Nikoly paused, “‘ He wants to be here?’ Then Po tried to ruffle his hair. And when he was done snarling about that—or actually, he kept snarling, but he took over the task of showing me around. I thought… well, I thought that look and that remark meant something. But he didn’t flirt. He told me that we had no Master Keepers because a past ruler killed one, and that we had fewer assistants too, which meant more work and not much time to train. And when I told him I was already fairly educated….” Nikoly was smiling broadly now. “He said, ‘Oh. Well. No working in dim light no matter how much you want to finish.’ A rule I notice that you ignore, Tiiran.” Nikoly carried on reminiscing over Tiiran’s embarrassed noises. “Then he swooped in, quite ferociously, to add, ‘And take no shit from nobles. We take requests, not orders. If someone gives you trouble and there’s no Master Keeper nearby, because there never is, those worthless cockalorums, come to me. I’ll step in for you.’”

“So of course you stayed,” Orin remarked.

Nikoly shrugged, still smiling. Tiiran grumbled around the biscuit, too distracted not to bite into it.

Orin spared him a look, probably happy to see Tiiran eating.

“When I met him, that is, when I really noticed him among the other assistants, he came up to boot me from the library, all full of detached fury over anyone disrespecting library rules. Then he saw that I’d lit the lamp myself and gave me an earful about that, and told me to call him the next time I came in. Which I thought was an invitation to… well, you understand.” Nikoly snorted quietly. Tiiran glared at them both. Orin gave Tiiran another approving look before returning to his story. “He really meant it about the lamp, even though, and I’m sorry, kitten, but you can’t reach the taller ones, even with a stool. Then he looked me over, crossed his arms, and declared, ‘I suppose you can stay. At least until the last of us leave.’ Which prompted me to ask why they were there that late. I’d forgotten the hour, but surely the library was too dark by then, even with lamps and fires, to do much copying. He gave me such a look.” Orin sighed fondly.

“As if it had never occurred to him to go home earlier.” He met Tiiran’s annoyed and embarrassed stare and his gaze was dark. “I had yet to realize how true that was. But once I did…”