Page 35

Two days after Piya had been killed by former outguard and current king, Arden of the Canamorra, the gate to the palace was open and ordered to stay that way, the palace kitchens and gardens were directing resources to those struggling in the capital because of thick river traffic slowing the import of goods, and the capital was regaining some of its noble population. The commoners, of course, had mostly been unable to leave quickly, so the rejoicing in the streets had been left to them.

And it was rejoicing, though some beat-of-fours would have been shocked to see it.

Tiiran wasn’t certain of the exact cause since the residents of the capital had only been indirectly affected by Piya’s poor choices. But Arden of the Canamorra had been a hero to them for years for choosing the life of a commoner—and for choosing a commoner husband, Mattin had been quick to point out.

As soon as river traffic allowed, Mattin was going to travel to his family’s territory to assuage their worries over his well-being. He planned to return as soon as he could, although, since Tiiran doubted nobles would be calling on the Great Library for a while, Tiiran had told him to enjoy the visit for as long as he wanted, as home was not something to be taken lightly.

Anyway, the other main duty of the Great Library was recording the reports of the Outguard. And since most, if not all, members of the Palace Guard were no longer members of said guard—many of them no longer living, some in the Outguard were now serving as security for the new king and his husband, so the library was not going to be inundated with reports. At least not for several weeks or perhaps even longer as the country calmed and settled.

That was why Po and Amie, who had only made it to the edge of the capital with Pearl before news of Tiiran’s arrest had drawn them back, had insisted that all the assistants shouldn’t be working either. The capital was celebrating, the palace was reorganizing itself with the help of the new Head of House, so the library doors could stay closed for a day or two in order for the librarians to also do some celebrating.

Celebrating was loud. Tiiran was used to a quiet library and was still recovering from time spent in the dark and cold without food or water. He would rather have been in bed, but Po was taking advantage of his soft, unsteady mood, as he should have expected from her.

She’d shown up, taken one look at him, and demanded to know what fool thing he’d done to get himself taken and didn’t he know better by now? Tiiran had thrown his arms around her and put his face on her shoulder before he could control the impulse.

Po had started sniffling. Tiiran had growled at her but not let go. Now he was here because she’d asked.

Well, he was also here because Orin had suggested that perhaps the assistants needed some time to enjoy not worrying for their lives. And because Lanth had liked visiting taverns and pubs in her spare time and would have wanted Tiiran to try doing the same. And because Nikoly had been asking Tiiran to come to the capital with him for months, so Tiiran had felt he ought to finally agree to, although he had no intention of behaving as the others were.

He couldn’t anyway; at the moment, he grew exhausted too quickly, and even in a crowded, noisy tavern, wearing far too many layers of shirts and vests and robes, he couldn’t seem to stay warm. His cough lingered, although it hadn’t grown worse.

His need for additional warmth was why he had been squashed between Orin and Nikoly on one side of the table the library assistants shared, at least until Nikoly had gotten up to fetch more drink or food, and Orin had been briefly dragged away by someone he knew, with assistants all coming and going around them.

Except for Mattin, who was seated away from all of them at the other end of the tavern, a notebook in hand as he listened with rapt attention to the bard currently performing. As bards were often part fae, and this one definitely was, Tiiran carefully did not look in that direction for too long, except to occasionally make sure Mattin was all right.

People kept trying to chat with him. Mattin, focused solely on the music, didn’t seem to notice.

The music was mostly songs about Arden Canamorra, as far as Tiiran could tell. Some he’d heard before. Some very new.

He glanced over, met the eyes of the fae bard across the distance, scowled, and looked down.

At a plate of fried potatoes and a small cup of cider.

Nikoly took a seat next to him, holding two heavy cups, probably full of ale. Tiiran had a question about how he’d carried that and Tiiran’s food and drink, but didn’t have to ask because Orin took a seat near Tiiran—a seat that had been occupied by Niksa—after giving Niksa a look that had him blushing and scampering away, and then Orin was next to Nikoly and accepting his ale with a grateful nod.

“Too many ducklings,” Tiiran muttered darkly after Niksa, although, in Niksa’s place, he likely would have blushed and obeyed as well.

Orin must have heard him despite all the noise; he gave Tiiran a sterner look that did, in fact, make Tiiran’s cheeks burn. But Tiiran ignored any urges to scamper and focused on his potatoes and his suddenly growling stomach.

Orin and Nikoly would step in and make him stop before his stomach was full, then make him wait to keep eating. Tiiran drank some cider to help keep his coughs down and to keep his thoughts about that to himself.

It had been two days. He was fine, just frequently tired.

Perhaps he was fine mostly because of the flare of heat in his chest whenever they fussed, which was possibly why he allowed all the fussing—and it did please Nikoly to do it. Then Orin’s approval would wash over them, and Tiiran was convinced Nikoly felt it too and liked it as much as Tiiran did, which then pleased them both in turn.

Everyone liked to feel loved, Tiiran suspected, even though Nikoly’s way to feel it might confuse some.

The potatoes were brushed with butter and herbs, crispy on the edges and soft inside. Tiiran paused in shoveling potatoes into his mouth to push the plate toward the other two.

“Good,” he explained shortly, drawing a smile from Orin—who also accepted the potatoes, because Orin needed far more food than Tiiran did. In truth, Orin should be back within the palace, resting and enjoying a full meal. He had been run ragged with duties for the king and the Outguard, as well as his self-appointed duties for Tiiran. According to Orin, those duties including escorting Tiiran and Nikoly to this tavern to have a good time with the library assistants, and there had been no telling him to stay back.

Tiiran was glad Orin was with them, so he hadn’t insisted with too much force. Orin had smiled knowingly at him, so he must suspect that. Tiiran was too tired to jump on Orin’s lap, but he really, really wanted to.

“I can get you more, or something else,” Nikoly offered quietly, watching Orin eat. His small wound, stitched and cleaned, was on the other side of his face. Small enough that he insisted he wasn’t in need of time to recover as Tiiran was. “I’m sure Tiiran will…”

“Tiiran will,” Tiiran agreed although he had no idea what Nikoly had been about to say.

“…Not mind, and be hungry again soon,” Nikoly finished, trying to be stern. “You need to have more, bee.”

Tiiran ignored the fussing for now. “Why would I mind?” He forcefully cleared his throat so he wouldn’t cough. He looked over, found them both exchanging a glance, and scowled. “I keep telling you I don’t.”

Orin at least didn’t pretend not to understand. “You just growled at Niksa.”

Orin was tired. It seemed he was quite a close and trusted friend of the new king, and since Arden was recovering from the injuries that had taken his life—before the fae had restored it, because of fucking course they’d step in to save a Canamorra—Orin was one of the outguards tasked with rooting out any remaining supporters of Piya or any other noble who might choose this time to try for the throne.

And still, he’d come out with them. Almost certainly to keep an eye on Tiiran. But, just possibly, to also keep an eye on Nikoly.

“Wild boy,” Orin had called Nikoly last night. Wild-heart once as well. He’d also said again that Nikoly would need a firm hand. Tiiran thought Orin was too used to talking around things for the sake of others, or maybe to being dismissed as an odd duck by many of his friends, and didn’t realize what he was actually saying.

He kept repeating he was waiting for Tiiran to name his feelings. Tiiran had. Orin had decided not to believe him for some reason. Fae-blessed the roses may have been, but Tiiran had known what he was saying. They kept doing that, the two of them. Not believing Tiiran or telling him to wait until he was less tired, or hadn’t just had his backside smacked, or hadn’t been held captive, or wasn’t sick.

He understood it, to a degree. Tiiran had taken a long time to admit that Orin had been slowly wooing him, and that Nikoly had been doing the same, albeit much less slowly. It was very likely that without Orin, Tiiran would never have recognized Nikoly’s interest.

Tiiran would have called himself a donkey, but it wasn’t his fault he’d never been taught what love felt like. He hadn’t grown up with it, the way most nobles didn’t know how things worked outside of the palace because they hadn’t been taught how to use their brains.

Tiiran knew it now. That was what important.

“Nikoly is not some random duckling,” Tiiran returned after another sip to smooth the rasp from his voice. “You like Nikoly, Orin. As I like Nikoly.” Well, no, perhaps not as Tiiran did. Not yet, at least. Tiiran cut a glance to both of them. “As Nikoly likes you.”

Tiiran turned from both of them and pushed out a breath. No one believed someone who had been held alone in a dark room and starved for several days could possibly know their own mind. Tiiran had known all this before then, yet they still would not listen.

“I liked the idea,” he admitted while watching Amie and Po work in tandem to charm a server, and Niksa help himself to some bread with butter then pause to offer some to someone at another table because Niksa was a generous sour apple. “I said both before and I meant both. I meant us all together, but when I was in the dark, I imagined you two, just you two together, and I liked that too. That you’d have each other. Nikoly needs to care for people and you need someone to be soft with you, Orin, although I didn’t see it because I’m not good at such things. And Nikoly… needs your firm hand, doesn’t he? I could never do as you do, not as well. So I liked it.”

Mattin was writing as he listened. Writing what, Tiiran didn’t know. Perhaps the song lyrics. The burly fellow who had been trying to talk to him finally got up and moved on. The bard grinned at that, showing pointy, pointy teeth.

Tiiran looked back at the table, then at his lovers. “I feel loved by each of you, but I feel it most when we are together.”

“Tiiran.” Orin pulled in a deep breath. “I am glad you feel it. But,” he took another moment, “you are loved.”

“Is feeling it not the same thing?” Tiiran frowned. “It doesn’t matter if I’m loved if I do not feel loved. That’s nothing. That’s empty air. What good are feelings if you’re not feeling them?” He glanced toward the bard, then back to Orin and Nikoly’s stunned faces. “That’s just words. I told you before, it didn’t matter to me if Pash lied or told the truth. You both make me feel loved and that is all that is of concern to me. That’s real as our bed. I did say all this before,” he finished, with a huff.

“Certain you didn’t, bee,” Nikoly replied faintly.

“Some of it,” Orin allowed. “I definitely heard ‘our bed’ before.”

“Yes,” Tiiran said testily, “our bed. This feeling. That’s what home is, or what I understand it to be. And the sooner you admit it, Elorin Vahti and Nikoly of the Rossick—”

“Full names,” Orin sighed.

“—the sooner you will stop thinking of me as a stray who doesn’t know what is happening. All right,” Tiiran allowed a moment later, “I often do not know what is happening. But I know this: if we have a home, we are not strays. That’s how words work. That’s how homes work. Xenia said so. You build them when you need them. Or perhaps she only implied that part.”

“Kitten.” Orin was almost admiring. “There’s no arguing with that point.”

“And now you will say, ‘But, Tiiran,’” Tiiran answered, enjoying himself a little because Orin wasn’t angry. Far from it. “You say I understand systems. You say I reject what isn’t needed and try for what is. You believed me when I predicted Piya’s actions. I don’t see why this is different.” Tiiran stopped to consider Nikoly, who was strangely quiet. “Am I wrong, Lyli?” he pressed, briefly leaning against Nikoly’s arm. “I don’t mean to embarrass you. But I know you find Orin attractive, and admire him, and you’re already concerned about his meals and things. If you don’t like him as you like me, that’s fine, but perhaps…”

“I love you, honey bee,” Nikoly said plainly, watching him. “So much it sometimes overwhelms me.”

The music in the tavern shifted and a cheer went up, followed by a few bawdy remarks.

Tiiran smiled, only coughing a little.

“And you will love Orin soon, I think.” He bobbed his head as he considered it. “Because you think he’s worthy. You let him tame you and it was beautiful to see.” Tiiran fought another cough, not wanting them to brush this away this time. “You’ll love him soon, as he will love you, because he’s a fire-heart too, like he says I am. But that’s hardly important if he makes you feel good. If you feel cared for in his presence, and happy, and want him to remain in our bed. And if that means you being friends, or you two kissing and tupping each other, and you at Orin’s feet with his collar around your…”

He faltered at Nikoly’s heated, furious glare.

“ My collar there?” Tiiran asked with some hesitation that eased only when Nikoly’s glare faded. Tiiran cleared the tickle from his throat. “You did say that. I didn’t think you were…. Very well. But I am at Orin’s feet, which means you are there with me, so I don’t understand the distinction.”

“I do,” Nikoly said primly.

Tiiran glanced to Orin.

“Oh, no.” Orin put his hands up. The plate was now empty of potatoes. “This is all you, kitten. You started it.”

“I did not.” Tiiran was equally prim. “You did. I am merely trying to make you both happy by telling you I want you to make each other happy.”

That sentence confused him a bit, which he supposed was the cider. Tiiran didn’t usually drink.

“Incredible.” Nikoly seemed to mean it. “Will you meet her tomorrow? Please?”

He meant his mentor, who had turned out to be Cael of the Rossick—someone important enough that Orin knew of her although Tiiran hadn’t. She had turned up at the palace on the evening of Piya’s death despite the snarled river traffic, met with Arden in his sickbed, and been announced as the new palace Head of House before dawn.

She had apparently been the palace Head of House for the old queen before the queen’s murder, and had known Arden-the-boy. Tiiran assumed she’d guessed when to arrive because of Nikoly’s reports to her. Nikoly insisted the fae must have told her or helped her travel faster because his last report might not even have reached Rossick territory yet.

Nikoly also insisted Tiiran should meet her. Tiiran didn’t know why but was grateful the palace would have a Head of House at last. Things might actually get done now.

“She’s going to like you so much.” Nikoly was not done pushing the matter. “She must. Although she’s worried for me. She thinks I’m being wild again and perhaps foolhardy. But that will change when she meets you and sees I’ve put myself in good hands.”

Tiiran looked to Orin again, who hummed. “You’re going to have to meet all of our families. That’s how this works, kitten.”

“Oh.” Tiiran made a face because his nerves began to coil into a knot. “People don’t like me.” He received two glares. “Not at first,” he added, reaching quickly for another sip of cider and speaking into his cup. “All right, then. If you’re sure.” If Mattin was still around tomorrow, perhaps he’d consent to braid Tiiran’s hair again so Cael might think better of him. Tiiran might need to borrow a robe as well.

He frowned, certain he could put off the meeting for a few days at least.

“Do you intend to continue serving her, or to stay in the library?” Orin asked Nikoly, unaware of the skip of Tiiran’s heart at the idea of Nikoly leaving.

“I think I will serve her best by staying in the library.” Nikoly’s smile was especially innocent, which Tiiran now realized meant he was anything but. The library was a center of information; Pash hadn’t been wrong about that. Nikoly likely would overhear many things there. But eyes-and-ears within the palace was an old practice, and if Tiiran stopped to worry over it, he’d have to worry over Orin more as well. So it was better to admire Nikoly’s smiles and not question them, including the small one he gave Tiiran. “Being in the library will be easiest for my other tasks as well, since I will be sworn to Tiiran. And, it seems,” he stopped, ducking his head and looking very pleased, “perhaps sworn to you too, in time.”

Orin’s expression was hard to read. He frowned as he looked between Nikoly and Tiiran, as if for once, he was the one missing something obvious. Eventually his frown smoothed away but he still didn’t speak.

“Nikoly doesn’t do whatever I say, Orin.” Tiiran argued before Orin could. “Any more than I do whatever you say. He does as he pleases. You only think he doesn’t because he really is a scheming sunflower.”

Nikoly, head still down, smiled to himself. Then he must have glanced to Orin because Orin’s gaze snapped to him and stayed there.

“Orin,” Nikoly used the same sweet tone he used on Tiiran, and Tiiran understood why when Nikoly reached over to take Tiiran’s hand, “if it pleases Tiiran, you might also call me Lyli.”

As if Tiiran wouldn’t do whatever Nikoly wanted.

“He can call you Lyli when he uses his firm hand on you,” Tiiran decreed, and was pleased with himself for evidently answering correctly and making Nikoly shiver.

The music grew louder, with nearly everyone on the other side of the tavern singing along. The lyrics were enough to make Tiiran’s eyes widen and pull his attention from Orin’s stunned face.

“Honey Bee is the name of the song,” said a somewhat gruff, low voice from Tiiran’s other side.

Tiiran turned to see a stranger seated next to him, which he supposed happened in taverns but he didn’t have to like it.

The stranger was probably not much taller than him, and portly, with a full beard that Tiiran was slightly envious of. His clothes were as bright as Mattin’s, but his pants were tighter and more like the shorter breeches and leg wraps people wore around the capital ages ago. His eyes, when Tiiran met them, were solid black.

“Fuck off,” Tiiran said immediately, more outraged at the beard than the fae’s rudeness in appearing to him now . Tiiran had nearly no body hair and this one got a thick beard? Then the audacity of a fae speaking to him really struck him, so Tiiran repeated himself. “I said fuck off.”

The goat-sucker actually smiled at that, showing teeth to match the bard’s. The smile didn’t reach the black eyes. Those showed nothing except some shrewdness, unless Tiiran imagined that.

“Not enjoying the song?” the fae wondered, voice deeper than Orin’s, then lighter. “I can ask them to play another.”

Tiiran was only vaguely aware of his pounding heart and Nikoly’s hand tight around his as if Nikoly was trying to pull him back.

Tiiran wasn’t going anywhere.

He jabbed a finger in the fae’s knowing little face. “As if I’m not owed more than a song from any of you—not that I’d take anything.”

The fae startled as if genuinely surprised. “You turn your back on us?”

Tiiran, about to actually turn his back, rolled his eyes. “On what? You aren’t family. The fae are supposed to be everywhere, unseen and nosy. Did I not just say that it does no good to say you love someone if you do not make them feel loved? You did not even say it to me, I should also point out. You left me there.”

“ Tiiran ,” Orin said, very quietly.

Tiiran raised his chin. “There were no roses in that room with me, Orin. I got scraps of affection from other servants, an education and a future from Lanth. Until I hugged you, I had never hugged anyone. I didn’t even think to ask for more blankets for myself until Nikoly chided me. I thought the library mattered but that I didn’t because that was all the fae taught me. So, no, I don’t care if there is a plan for me, if I am touched by the fae in some way. I do not care.” He bit out each word. “If they brought you both to me, it’s all very nice, but they took their time sharing their affection for me—and that is only if they brought you to me. Which they would never say even if they had.” He scoffed. “Instead of asking for my gratitude, you should find some other abandoned child and give them a loving home. That is a better use of your time.”

“You are exactly what they said you are, fire-heart.” The fae was either annoyed or amused, Tiiran couldn’t tell. Maybe they weren’t used to having a human face with human expressions. Or maybe human emotions confused them. That, Tiiran could almost sympathize with. But he shook the feeling away. Whatever the fae felt, the black eyes stayed measuring and clever. “Don’t you think it would be wise to listen to your lovers and remember who has authority over you?”

“Authority?” Tiiran echoed, batting away whichever one of those lovers was reaching for him. “You are mistaken. You have power over me, but you have no authority over me. None of you do. The only one who does is Orin when I choose to give it to him, and Nikoly when he’s very pretty on purpose to get what he wants.” Tiiran spent only a moment reconsidering that answer. “And perhaps this king,” he allowed, “although I will have to wait and see, and decide for myself.”

He wondered if they could hear him across the table, but it seemed not. No one looked at Tiiran with his bruised face and rude mouth but Orin, Nikoly, and the bearded fae who did not understand Tiiran or anything useful. Like Tiiran, the fae would have to be taught.

“Rulers and fae have power, I don’t deny it. But I am little and alone—I was alone, thanks to you and yours, and nearly everyone has had power over me, which is probably why it doesn’t scare me. No.” Tiiran was unbending. “Authority, I grant. You are irrelevant. And whoever told you anything about me can fuck off too. I’ve been here. My whole life I’ve been here.” He faltered, voice cracking, and then Nikoly’s hand found his again and he could feel Orin’s alarmed affection. “I found love without you.” He turned to look at both of them. “That’s what I feel for you,” he explained to them both, “which I am sure Orin, at least, already knows. I can continue to tell you so until you believe me, but it’s meaningless to say it unless I make you feel it too. It’s acts that matter. I’ll do my best and I’ll do it wrong, because it’s new to me and no one was around to teach it to me. But I will do my best to love you so you feel it every day, as everyone should.”

He didn’t cough once, although he did wrinkle his nose before he turned away from his lovers to again face the fae.

“So what would I need you for?” he started to demand, only to realize the fae had vanished.

“Couldn’t even manage caution for more than two days,” Orin remarked wryly, although Tiiran doubted he was as relaxed as his tone implied. He knew that was so when he was lifted from his seat and Orin sat back down with Tiiran firmly in his arms.

“Perhaps bold is how the fae want him,” Nikoly offered, but faintly. Tiiran must have given him a shock.

Tiiran reached out, pausing only to briefly glare at Orin as Orin arranged him how he pleased, to stroke the side of Nikoly’s face. Gentle , he told himself . Be mindful of the stitches . He would learn softness and care if they continued to allow him to.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” That much, Tiiran was sorry for, although Orin seemed intent on punishing him for it anyway. He settled Tiiran on his lap, with Tiiran straddling his thighs and given the choice to either look Orin in the face or hide against his shoulder.

Orin’s shoulder was especially warm, especially with Orin big and handsome in only a shirt and vest and no armor, not even a padded gambeson.

“You love us, and you want to make us feel loved,” Orin said out of nowhere, once more deceptively calm. Tiiran twitched to hear it said so boldly and raised his head. Orin seemed to be considering the room at large and not Tiiran in his arms, so Tiiran huffed. Nikoly began to rub a soothing circle on his back.

“So he scares us,” Nikoly added.

Nikoly was far scarier than Tiiran and they all knew it.

“Which we will have to bear, having chosen him.” Orin paused, and Tiiran should have guessed he was about to say something he knew Tiiran wouldn’t like. “Were chosen for him, perhaps, as he suggested.”

Tiiran had said that, but he still sputtered, nearly drowning out Nikoly’s shaky exhale.

“But he also grants us authority over him, as he will not even for the king and the fae—bless them.” Orin seemed to be musing on the subject but Tiiran very much doubted he was; Orin’s gaze was fire. Tiiran went silent. “Consequences, then, will be up to us.”

He smiled.

Tiiran flicked a glance to Nikoly, who regarded Tiiran seriously.

“You did want us to be together more,” he reminded Tiiran, gentle and soft, before raising his head to address Orin. “He’s not well enough for much now.”

“An excellent idea,” Orin answered, as though that had been a suggestion of some kind. “He will have to wait. Do you hear that, kitten?” Rough amusement carried through Orin’s chest. “You will have to wait for my hands on you again. Wait, and want, and worry.” He spoke against Tiiran’s ear, laughing quietly when Tiiran wriggled.

“I can take anything right now,” Tiiran insisted, although he probably couldn’t. But Orin wouldn’t exhaust him too much. He trusted in that.

“What’s that?” Orin asked, raising his voice. “You want me to spank you here in this tavern?”

Tiiran pushed out a strangled noise and twisted around to meet Niksa’s wide eyes. He turned back to Orin, who watched Tiiran struggle with obvious pleasure.

“I’m sure you take spankings so well,” Nikoly joined in helpfully, leaving Tiiran to stare at him while he imagined himself bare from the waist down in front of everyone. In front of Mattin, and that… that bard . His heart raced, blood pounding all through him until his face burned and he squirmed without meaning to. His cock was plumping and Orin would feel that, many layers of clothing or not. Nikoly would see it if he looked down.

“So well, so determined to be brave and tough it out.” Orin sighed, hands dropping to cup Tiiran’s behind and squeeze it right there in front of everyone. “But he wants it so much, takes it for so long that he could likely finish from that alone.”

“Really?” Nikoly’s voice held the faintest rasp.

Tiiran stared at Nikoly, beautiful and longing, then quickly hid his face against Orin’s shoulder.

A graceful, inked hand dipped into his lap.

Tiiran bit his lip but a small whine escaped.

“Your Nikoly doesn’t like being embarrassed as you do, but I think he would enjoy a hand on him,” Orin continued blithely into Tiiran’s ear.

“Our Nikoly,” Tiiran choked, trying to push against Orin’s hands but he was held too firmly. “Mine first,” he added because he hadn’t forgotten. “And ours.”

Orin didn’t remove his hands, but seemed to still.

Tiiran inched up to peek at him, then rose to kiss the side of Orin’s neck. Light kisses , he told himself. Even Orin needed softness and care. Perhaps especially Orin, but only in certain moments.

“Bear,” Tiiran whispered to him, although Nikoly probably heard. “Our Master when we say you are. But also Orin, odd duck. You are mine, and that means you are his.” Orin let out a short breath. His hands stayed on Tiiran but he was silent. He had behaved similarly when Tiiran had spoken of their bed. “ Shh .” Tiiran soothed him as best as he could, feeling more than a little foolish, although Orin didn’t stop him and Nikoly didn’t suggest Tiiran stop. “We will make our house how it pleases us, and I don’t… I don’t want you to ever feel that you have been left. Either of you, but you most of all, Orin. I might have a fire-heart as you say, and it doesn’t bother me because I don’t spend much time with those who don’t burn inside. But you have such a heart too, and it must be so hard for you, blazing as you do around people who prefer you hide it.”

“Bee,” Nikoly murmured, choked and sad. He put his forehead to Orin’s shoulder. Orin swallowed, once, then again.

“I had so much time in that room, Orin.” Tiiran raised his head to brush the tip of his nose over Orin’s chin and then his cheek. “We think you’re beautiful. And we would have you.” Tiiran tried not to frown at Orin’s continued stillness. “You might not believe me yet, or worry that Nikoly only wants you to use him—or that he only wants to use you?” Tiiran would have to consider that in more detail later. “But I want you to feel what I feel for you. You’re quiet. Perhaps it hurts?”

“Fire tends to,” Orin answered faintly. “Sorry. I’m tired and you always surprise me, Tiiran. But I wasn’t expecting….”

He didn’t say what he hadn’t expected. Nikoly raised his head, as if perhaps also waiting on the answer.

Tiiran took Orin’s face in his hands, then hesitated because they were surrounded by strangers. But Orin once again did not stop him, so Tiiran took a hand from Orin to cup Nikoly’s jaw and left the other at the side of Orin’s neck.

“It’s very pleasurable to imagine you using Nikoly, with your rope or without it,” Tiiran informed him. “And I enjoyed being tupped by you and think he would enjoy it as well.”

Orin didn’t take his eyes from Tiiran. “Some of the pleasure you took in it might have been the love you keep declaring.”

“Yes,” Tiiran agreed after a moment of reflection. “Fial certainly wouldn’t have made me feel that way. I didn’t love him and he didn’t love me. We weren’t even friends. But I also think that Nikoly doesn’t feel that way with his other lovers.”

“ Past lovers,” Nikoly corrected quietly.

“Past lovers,” Tiiran agreed with a nod. “I think that’s you , Orin. You’re wonderful. As is he, so you should have each other. It makes sense, and it pleases me. And…” Tiiran flicked his tongue over the edge of his tooth. “I don’t have poetry, so I will just say that I will be even more pleased when you stop pretending you haven’t already almost kissed Nikoly several times.”

Orin went blank.

“He’s very kissable,” Tiiran went on, his face hot as he did his best to be sweet and coaxing like Nikoly at his most convincing. He touched his fingertips to Nikoly’s bottom lip to prove it. “And he would have let you kiss him in that hallway, even with fallen palace guards around you.” He felt Nikoly start but ignored it except to brush his mouth again. “I think it would have soothed him. The possibility soothed me. I want to watch you kiss and fuck, and sleep and fuss over each other too. Maybe not as you do with me, or maybe so. I don’t care. It feels right no matter how it is. This is what home is to me. And I want to be there when you tie Nikoly up as you said, and torment him and deny him until he cries pretty tears.”

Nikoly shut his eyes. “ Please .”

“You see, Orin?” Tiiran demanded, and felt the bunching of Orin’s muscles a beat before Orin bent his head to put his mouth to Nikoly’s.

Both of their mouths were already open, their breath warm on Tiiran’s fingers, which he kept there between them for another moment. Nikoly made a tiny sound of surprised pleasure and then Orin’s hand came up to hold him. When Nikoly turned into the touch, Orin kissed him deeper, which Nikoly took with greedy whimpers. Or perhaps those were Tiiran’s whimpers, because suddenly he was being kissed too, by one and then the other, and then settled back with his face to Orin’s shoulder while Orin and Nikoly both caught their breath.

“Again,” Tiiran ordered, shivering when Orin gave in and took Nikoly’s softness again, kissing him until Nikoly shuddered against him.

“ Orin ,” Nikoly gave way so beautifully, “I didn’t realize you were afraid. I’ll be careful. I’ll work hard to be careful if you let me. Please.”

“Pup.” The rumble rocked through Tiiran. “I don’t expect you to.”

“Oh.” Nikoly punctuated this with another kiss. “You’re just like him. Oh, let me. Please. Tiiran, make him agree so I can care for him. Please, Tiiran.”

“Home,” Tiiran declared with satisfaction, peering up at the sight of a bear being softly kissed into submission. Then he rose up to add his kisses to Nikoly’s, and then to Orin’s, until someone—Po—yelled for them to pay for a room or invite the rest of them to join.

That was an idea—the room, not Po’s involvement. Tiiran certainly wouldn’t mind watching Nikoly capture Orin further by falling into more of his kisses. But Orin pulled back, breathing harder, and Nikoly apparently had already gotten his way, because he curled into Orin’s side and Orin merely blinked and didn’t comment.

“Ducklings are selfish,” Tiiran reminded him.

Orin gave a small start, then snorted a laugh. “Tiiran, there is selfish and then there is what you just did, whether you realize it or not.”

“I said home , Orin,” Tiiran said, a bit sharply but he didn’t apologize. “There are no roses around that word when I say it. I mean exactly that.”

One lover or two, one husband or two, it was all the same in their bed.

Although, they would need a better one. Perhaps it was good that Tiiran meet with Cael, provided he could persuade her to like him, which Tiiran was not sure how to do. Maybe Nikoly could convince her to ask the housekeeping staff to order a larger bed for their room.

His tone took the befuddled wonder from Orin’s gaze and replaced it with fire. “You are too exhausted and still recovering, Tiiran. Stop asking for punishment.”

Tiiran hadn’t been—but then supposed he had . “But, Orin….”

He stopped when he felt Nikoly’s palm over his cock, not pressing, not stroking.

“He’s aroused.” Nikoly actually sounded surprised by that.

Tiiran wriggled. “You were kissing in front of me. Of course, I am.”

“All but begging for either a spanking or a rough fuck in front of the other assistants.” Orin clucked his tongue, enjoying turning this back on Tiiran now, perhaps as much as Tiiran was enjoying it. Orin loved him. Orin would love them . “Terror of the Great Library, hard as a post and trembling because he wants to be spanked and tumbled so everyone knows how eager and good he is for me.”

“ Orin !” Tiiran whined freely, skin blazing with embarrassment although he didn’t look to see who might have heard. “You didn’t say anything about fucking,” he whispered in a flushed, aroused panic. “Only… only … .”

“Spanking?” Nikoly suggested, pressing a kiss to Tiiran’s head, behind his ear, after Tiiran dropped his head to moan into Orin’s shirt. “I’d like to watch you fuck Tiiran too, if I may.”

“I think we both know you may,” Orin replied dryly. “As he wants to watch us.”

Tiiran shook too violently for it to be a mere shiver . “At least once,” he agreed. “Or some of the time. I don’t have to watch every encounter between you.”

“So generous.” Orin squeezed a handful of his backside.

“Exactly,” Tiiran panted, tingling all over, warm through his bones. “Which is why, sometimes, you should submit to my authority.”

Orin nuzzled the top of his head. “Bossy cat.”

“But mostly, I am content giving way to you,” Tiiran admitted on a sigh, then wriggled until he could look at Nikoly. “You’re right. I’m tired.”

“I know, bee.” Nikoly stroked the side of Tiiran’s face, his now-reddened lips curved in a smile. “We can come back another time if you enjoyed this.”

“Potatoes were good,” Tiiran decided aloud, burrowing against Orin and unconcerned with Po or Niksa seeing it. “The company was good. The music was all right.” The distant discordant tang of a lute barely disturbed him. “Loud, though,” he complained. “I’m tired, and so are you. Must I meet her tomorrow?”

“The palace will never be the same,” Orin commented, abandoning Tiiran’s backside to rub circles at his shoulder blades instead.

“Bullshit.” Tiiran hid his face again. As if Orin wasn’t someone to be feared.

“She’ll approve of you for me, I think. But more than that, I think you’ll approve of her.” Despite this, Nikoly began to chew a fingernail. “She already met Orin, although not in this context. She might have to meet him again properly.”

Nikoly abruptly stiffened, then relaxed all at once. Tiiran looked down to see Orin’s hand at Nikoly’s side and understood; it was difficult to fret when within Orin’s arms.

Tiiran smiled to himself. “If she is all that you say, she won’t be fooled by him either.”

“I….” Orin perhaps meant to argue. “I did say that meeting families was a part of this. Well done, kitten. You got me.”

Tiiran brushed his cheek over Orin’s shirt, so much better than the gambeson for moments like this one. They would have to venture into the capital more, so Orin would not dress as an outguard always. “We can stay if I can sleep.”

“You can sleep here?” Nikoly was genuinely concerned.

Tiiran wanted to pat him but also didn’t want to move. “Can sleep anywhere. Prefer our bed, though. Thought of it, while I was alone.”

A brief silence followed that. Then Orin said, “Have you been teaching him how to scheme to get his way, pup? That was very good.”

“He learns quickly,” Nikoly returned with pride, then rose to his feet in one startling motion, making Tiiran look up. “I would also like to be in our bed.” Flitting back and forth between Cael’s office and the library to take care of Tiiran would tire anyone, though Nikoly would doubtless deny being exhausted.

“Home,” Tiiran corrected, already snuggling back into Orin’s arms. He only got slightly dizzy when Orin stood up too.

“Bed is calling to me as well,” Orin agreed, and should have put Tiiran down, but didn’t. Not until they were past the smirking bard and dreamy-eyed Mattin and out of the tavern. Nikoly came up to Tiiran’s side to take his hand, and Orin supported Tiiran by keeping hold of his arm, and together they moved quietly through the cheering crowds to go home.