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Tiiran dragged his gaze from Nikoly only to be hit with the lovely earnestness of Mattin of the Arlylian, who would take twice as long as anyone else to do basic chores—though he would do them. He loved the library, but menial labor wasn’t a skill of his.

Tiiran pushed the bequeathed diaries toward him. “These need to be looked at and decisions made about them before we know how many copies to make or how to file them.”

Mattin lit up, grabbing the diaries with greedy hands before stopping. “Oh, but that’s a task for...” a Master Keeper . Something they did not have, whatever Toak might claim. It took all of a moment for Mattin to think it over and then lift his chin. “I’ll do it. And I’ll do it quickly. Toak should respect his position more.” He had the diaries held to his chest in the next instant, already distracted as he looked for a good place to sit and work.

“You’re smiling now,” Nikoly observed. His smile had vanished again. It didn’t make him any less handsome.

Tiiran had no idea what Nikoly had to be upset about. “I’m sorry I took Mattin’s attention from you, but the work needs to get done.” Anyway, Tiiran had never known Mattin to take part in the assistants’ bed games. Perhaps he was simply more discreet than the others, but Tiiran had seen outguards go out of their way to get Mattin’s attention and Mattin only nod distractedly before returning to his reading, so Mattin might have been uninterested in bed sport altogether.

Nikoly briefly tipped his head to one side, questioning. “You gave him Master Keeper work.” It was quiet, but Tiiran glanced around anyway, though of course no Master Keepers were to be seen.

“It needs to get done,” Tiiran said again, firmer this time. “And he’s good at it, and knows more than the rest of us. Are you going to tell Toak?”

The bit of nervous tension in Tiiran’s shoulders slipped away when Nikoly shook his head. “Of course not. It does need to get done, and I like it when you take charge, honeybee.”

Tiiran frowned up in warning at the nickname, Nikoly’s version of “Bee,” a name Po sometimes called Tiiran, “ Because you sting, little bee.” Nikoly had used the nickname before and only smiled when Tiiran glared.

He smiled again now, sweeter and brighter than even Mattin might have managed, and Tiiran’s glare faltered. He went back to sorting, his gaze safely on something else. “Well, someone has to take charge for now. Otherwise, nothing will get done and the library will fall down around us.”

“Tiiran.” Nikoly’s hand appeared in Tiiran’s line of sight, close to his but not touching. The not-flowers looked familiar, like something that grew in one of the palace gardens. “Really. I’ll help you with whatever you need. You have only to ask.”

“That’s your job.” That was what assistants were supposed to do. Tiiran had no idea why Nikoly would give him a wounded look for the comment when it was true. “And I still don’t know why you say honeybee instead of bee . The joke is that I’m mean, not that I’m sweet.” Tiiran was being unnecessarily snappy, even by his standards. “I’m sorry.”

“Tired?” Nikoly’s tone remained pleasant, patient, as though Tiiran was an annoyed beat-of-four library visitor who needed to be calmed. “You left late again, didn’t you? And were here first?”

“It’s easier for everyone if I get here first.”

“And you like to do it.” Nikoly did not seem to be guessing.

Tiiran was surprised into meeting his gaze again. “Well… I… it’s peaceful in here in the mornings. And it gives me a chance to make sure everything is as it should be. As close to that as we can get now, anyway.”

Nikoly had not lost his smile. It was as warm as his gaze, though Tiiran couldn’t think of what would please him so… unless he was amused at Tiiran’s fondness for a building.

Tiiran looked away. “I suppose it is funny that I enjoy getting up early to come in here.”

“Funny?” Nikoly echoed with some confusion. “I wouldn’t say that, just that I don’t understand it. The same way I don’t understand the joy Mattin will take in reading whatever is in those books that is probably someone’s dull life story. But it’s charming.”

“Mattin is charming, yes.” Tiiran grumpily poked at his sorted stacks, then shook himself. He didn’t have time for this. “There will be no cleaning or straightening again today. Or probably tomorrow. Too many copy requests.”

“More family histories?” Nikoly prompted. Tiiran thought there was something odd in his tone, but when he glanced up, Nikoly’s expression was only vaguely curious. Probably because there had been more requests than usual for noble family histories, particularly lately. Nobles usually kept their own histories, sending in copies to the library if it pleased them. They all must want secondary sources, trying to see what other noble families had in their records.

“Tye,” Tiiran had to pause to say the name instead of spitting it, “wasn’t the first to decide a look at her family’s history might prove her claim to the throne. But we can’t tell them no.” He growled a little despite this and ignored Nikoly’s small, delighted laugh. “I’ll work on some here, so everyone else can focus on their work without interruption.”

“But you don’t like being assigned to the desk.” Nikoly blinked innocently when Tiiran raised his head. “And, if I may say so, you’re not good at it.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a bee because I would sting you.” Tiiran’s low snarl should not have sparked more fire in Nikoly’s eyes.

“Tell me what you need me to do.” Nikoly did not say honeybee at the end this time but Tiiran heard it and threw a stack of copy requests at him in lieu of hissing. They fluttered back onto the desk, thankfully useless as projectiles.

Smiling happily, Nikoly collected each one and glanced up after looking them over. “Are these for the others too, or all for me? It will take me some time, perhaps days, to do them all. But if you wish it…”

“Don’t say it.” If he said honeybee one more time….

“Tiiran,” Nikoly finished smoothly, “I will do them all. If you wish it,” he added again, their eyes meeting.

Something held Tiiran still, made him flush even though sunlight had not yet reached the desk.

“I don’t make wishes,” he answered after what felt like a heavy pause, his voice holding a rasp that Nikoly noticed.

“Did you not have tea? I can fetch you a cup.”

Tiiran would love more spring tea. It was going to be a long, tedious day and he was already tired. But the spring tea wasn’t a part of the budget. It came from Tiiran’s pockets and he was careful with how much he allowed himself. “I’m fine,” he said instead of any of that. “Split those up with the others and see what can get done today. Let me handle any visitors.”

Nikoly’s soft sigh was unexpected. “You work too hard.”

“Are you sure you’re not a noble?” Tiiran returned, a bit snappish again but no one would blame him. “Everyone else works this hard all the time.”

“Everyone else has help,” Nikoly answered quietly, but turned and went toward where the others had gathered around the tables with their pots of ink and reed pens or quills. He handed each of them a request. He kept two for himself, Tiiran noticed, then disappeared into the rest area, probably to get his own breakfast before he began.

Tiiran watched the assistants head off into the stacks, looking for what they needed to make copies of, then bent his head over a list of supplies for the binding of the copies they made. They were fortunate that no ruler yet had drained the palace coffers or diverted the money from the various taxes that went to palace upkeep. But, without a palace Head of House, there was also no one to approve more spending or to account for rising costs. That was beginning to be a problem too. Warring meant slow deliveries and higher fees for what came in because merchants had to take longer routes or hire security.

A steaming mug of tea, held in one of Nikoly’s prettily decorated hands, appeared before him. Nikoly placed it just to the side of Tiiran’s list before moving away. Tiiran turned to watch him go, dragging his eyes up from the curve of Nikoly’s behind, visible through his robe, while thinking that firm backside belonged on a guard who trained all day, not a librarian.

Tiiran turned around before Nikoly could catch him looking, then pulled the tea closer. The color was a lovely light brown; Nikoly had put cream in it. It smelled sweeter too, the bitterness masked with honey.

“Thank you?” Tiiran called after him, only growing more confused when Nikoly paused on the steps to glance over his shoulder at Tiiran, eyes wide. But Nikoly dipped his head in a nod and continued on, so Tiiran took a careful sip of his tea and hummed with pleasure at the taste before setting to work.

“What I am specifically looking for is a copy of the Balylithan family histories from before the rise of the first ruler.”

The third time the beat-of-four said it, his volume louder, his tone frostier, Tiiran looked up from his copy work of A Guyde to the Beauteous Styles of the Rulers Ancient , the work of a noble historian with spidery handwriting from three centuries ago. Tiiran could have copied from the library’s copy, but that, apparently, was missing, which meant Tiiran would need to copy this book again in the future.

He’d been at it for hours already, squinting even in the midday light. His hair was starting to pull out of its knot. His mouth was dry. His stomach was gurgling, and he needed to rest his wrist but didn’t want to waste the full light with the script being so thin and faded.

He didn’t know what noble needed to know the styles of rulers past or why, but possibly they only wanted to know how to dress if Piya attempted some sort of coronation.

As for the braying jackass in front of him, no matter how many times he kept insisting he wanted the Balylithan histories from before the time of the first ruler, Tiiran couldn’t help him.

“There was no Balylithan family before the time of the first ruler,” Tiiran explained, bringing his gaze up to meet the noble’s imperious stare. It got noticeably less imperious when Tiiran stared back with his eyebrows raised. “Do you not know that names of four beats did not even come into the official records until after the first ruler took power?”

“Perhaps,” Nikoly cut in, suddenly there next to Tiiran, tall and broad-shouldered and calm, when he should have been at a desk, “you are seeking the earliest information about that family? Or maybe about their ancestors, such as the Bal or the Lith? If so, I’d be happy to help you narrow your search.”

He smiled.

The pompous lobcock before them turned fully toward Nikoly, looking a little dazzled.

Tiiran let his shoulders drop and crossed his arms. Nobles were supposed to study the histories of other nobles; Tiiran had no idea why, but they were. They loved to come into the library and reference events and people from the past and then be surprised when the librarians knew precisely who and what they were talking about as most other commoners did not. The librarians often even knew it better.

Nikoly’s tone was kinder than Tiiran’s had been, but he was hardly complimenting the man either, pointing out his ignorance like that. But now, of course, the noble was practically blushing and letting Nikoly guide the conversation instead of sneering at Tiiran.

“It is complicated,” Nikoly agreed with whatever the noble had said, leaning in ever so much closer to turn the pale twit an even darker shade of pink. “Because the earliest records are much sparser, we have to rely on the later descendants of those families and what they wrote. And what the Vallithi thought of the Lith and what the Balylithan, as one example, thought of them, can be quite different. Maybe you’d like to look at the earliest records of the Balylithan that we do have and go from there?”

“A marvelous idea,” the noble answered, so breathless that Tiiran scoffed.

Nikoly pointedly nudged the stool Tiiran sat on, though his attention stayed on the noble as he handed him a pencil and paper for his information so Nikoly could see what was available and inform him when it was ready without the noble having to wait.

“I’m not staying in the palace,” the noble, Reese Finnaltultin, if Tiiran interpreted his upside-down handwriting correctly, stopped after handing Nikoly the paper. “You may find me in the capital,” Reese added, bobbing his head like a bashful guard on his first assignment in the library before hurrying out.

Tiiran flattened his mouth but waited until the library doors had closed before snatching the paper from Nikoly’s hand.

Nikoly was watching Tiiran intently when Tiiran finally looked up from the Finnaltultin’s loopy writing, in which the useless noble happened to have informed Nikoly that he was home alone in the afternoons.

“I’ll send a palace runner with the information,” Nikoly said before Tiiran had even opened his mouth.

Tiiran shoved the note back at him. “It’s none of my business how you handle a request as long as it gets done. You don’t answer to me.” He didn’t know why he kept talking or why his voice kept getting sharper. “If you did, I’d say you could do better than a supercilious shithead who didn’t even ask your name.”

“Oh.” Nikoly gazed down at him, hotter than the sun. “Who would be better for me then?”

With difficulty, Tiiran looked away from the very pretty sight of him. “Any outguard in here would serve you well. Or so I hear.” That last bit was a barely audible growl. Tiiran reached up to deal with his loosening knot of hair, then gave up and yanked out the wooden pin, sending his hair tumbling down into his face and around his ears.

“ Honey ,” Nikoly exhaled, so quietly Tiiran wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

He gathered his hair back up, twisted it, then shoved the pin back in. Several end strands popped out, but it wasn’t as if Tiiran had expected it to look good.

“But thank you,” Tiiran told him. “For dealing with him. That took much less time than it would have if I’d done it.”

Nikoly’s gaze returned to Tiiran’s face. “He interrupted you and he wasn’t polite. That was quite the sting you gave him.” He sighed mournfully.

Tiiran pushed his confusion to the side for now. “If we didn’t have to rely on one piss-stain of a Master Keeper,” who still had not shown up for the day, “and if we actually had a Head of House for the palace, I wouldn’t be working while answering questions at the desk. That’s all.”

“I could do it for you.”

Tiiran placed both hands on the top of the desk and looked into Nikoly’s eyes until he realized that was all he was doing—sitting there, gazing at Nikoly. For a moment, Nikoly had been as earnest as Mattin and it was equally lovely on him. Maybe even lovelier, because Tiiran had never wondered if Mattin would still look like that with Tiiran’s seed all over his face.

Thankfully, Nikoly had no interest in Tiiran, or in Tiiran’s cock being anywhere near his face, and would probably laugh if Tiiran let any of his thoughts show.

Tiiran swallowed before glancing away. “Are you teasing me because I’m not the best at talking to people?”

Even Orin would have laughed at that choice of words. ‘Not the best.’

Nikoly blinked several times, then gave a slight shake of his head while frowning. “I’m offering, Tiiran. I’ve been offering. Did you think it was teasing this whole time?”

“Oh.” Tiiran glanced around but couldn’t focus on one thing long enough to avoid looking back up at Nikoly. “Yes. I thought that. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” Nikoly was still frowning.

Tiiran waved between them, then around the library, then back at himself. Bemused silence answered him, so he pushed out a breath. “I wouldn’t need help if things weren’t so dire.” That was important to note. He went on only after Nikoly nodded. “I admit, it’s tempting to use you,” he could have bitten his tongue, “but you have work to do as well.”

“Yes, but less than you, and I don’t mind.” Nikoly had not lost the frown, although it wasn’t soft with confusion anymore. “You’re free to use me. Please.”

That was almost begging. Nobody begged to work with nobles. Yet there Nikoly was, with one of his eager gazes as well.

“You are good at it,” Tiiran admitted, then spent several stunned seconds trying not to stare—again—when Nikoly ducked his head in a manner that could only be described as inordinately pleased . “Well, you are. Good at it, that is,” Tiiran heard himself saying for no reason except that Nikoly kept his head down while lifting his gaze to look at him, and that somehow made Tiiran lightheaded. Maybe he needed to eat.

He would later, he promptly decided, then cleared his throat and looked out over the tables of assistants, all busy copying except for Niksa, who was scowling as he generally did, and Po, who was possibly sleeping.

Tiiran didn’t have it in him to wake her. Anyway, one of the others would when they noticed.

“All right,” he said with his gaze still on his weary assistants, before turning back to Nikoly. “But if anyone troubles you, no matter what I’m doing, no matter if it’s a fucking Canamorra at the desk being rude, come get me. You shouldn’t have to deal with them alone.”

The ridiculousness of the order wasn’t lost on him. Tiiran could barely see over the desk without the stool. Nikoly was built like a noble’s family guard and had handled that obnoxious beat-of-four quite easily. But Nikoly ducked his head again and Tiiran spent a strange moment imagining himself charging down the spiral staircase to throw himself between Nikoly and danger.

His face was warm.

“It’s the fae blood,” he said weakly, hoping Nikoly wouldn’t notice the blush. “Makes people afraid to challenge me.”

“Or maybe,” Nikoly said quietly, his body pressed to the other side of the desk so that he and Tiiran weren’t terribly far apart, “they like to watch the fire spark.”

“I don’t….” Tiiran had no clue what he’d intended to say. “No, it’s the fae blood,” he finished at last, distracted by the faint curve to Nikoly’s lips. “At least they’re good for something, the child-abandoning fucks.”

Nikoly startled backward, the way most did when Tiiran spoke like that. “And bless and keep them,” he offered to the air while curling one hand around his bracelet.

Tiiran waved that off. His fae parent, or any fae for that matter, would get a blessing from Tiiran exactly never.

“I’ll just go then.” He nearly toppled off the stool, surprised to discover his backside was numb, but scooped up his current assignment before gesturing for Nikoly to use the stool if he liked. It would make Nikoly almost comically too high for the desk. Tiiran might need to search for a shorter one if this happened again. “Call if you need me. Or Mattin,” Tiiran paused to make a face, but Mattin was probably better if diplomacy was required. “If he’s closer… and you can find him. I’m serious. Don’t put yourself out too much for me. All right?”

He looked up. Nikoly hadn’t moved. That curve to his lips was still there. “You said much the same when we met.”

“Did I?” Tiiran’s memories of meeting Nikoly nearly a year ago were mostly a blur of trying not to make a fool of himself over the new handsome assistant and hoping the new handsome assistant would enjoy the library and stay. “Well, entitled nobles can be a problem.” Something went through Nikoly’s eyes. Tiiran stumbled on. “But I am sure I meant it then as I mean it now. Call me if you need to.”

“And you will save me?”

Tiiran narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but his face wasn’t stinging with the hot rush of embarrassment, so perhaps Nikoly wasn’t making fun of him. Maybe he was, as he’d said, charmed.

Unlikely. But Tiiran ducked his head and felt like Nikoly for doing it. “I’ll try to get my work done as soon as possible,” he assured Nikoly, then darted up the staircase before he did do something to make Nikoly mock him.