Page 37

“Shit,” Mil interrupted. Tiiran liked how little use Mil had for niceties. “He’ll lose himself in that thing and forget to eat for days.”

Tiiran continued to face Arden. Arden stared back at him. He was delighted again. Tiiran didn’t see why.

Arden approached the desk and rested his hands on the top before turning them palm up for Tiiran to see.

Nikoly made a little noise.

Arden spoke gently. “We took the time today, with consequences to our own schedules, to be with him as he attends to these new, unfamiliar tasks. Because he is precious to us. Do you believe I haven’t seen his fears? That it doesn’t pain us to see him fretting? Won’t you help us help him?”

Curse the Canamorra anyway. Arden was a worse schemer than Nikoly.

Arden raised one hand to gesture gracefully. “Is there, perhaps, anything the library is currently in need of and cannot get due to palace funds going elsewhere?”

“More binding equipment,” Tiiran returned immediately. Palace repairs were necessary and long overdue, but their equipment was in need of replacement.

“Done,” Arden agreed decisively, pulling away from the desk. Tiiran blinked several times, having given the answer that was on his mind but without expecting to gain anything. Arden smiled, charming again. “But after the wedding, of course.”

Orin was so amused now and only growing hungrier.

Tiiran dragged his gaze from Orin to turn to Nikoly. “Lyli? Would you go get Mattin please?” Nikoly knew everything. He’d know where Mattin was even while Tiiran would be guessing.

Mil came forward, a hand up to keep Nikoly from moving. “Just tell me where he is. I’ll fetch him.”

Nikoly got up anyway, but only to whisper something to Mil as Mil passed the desk. Whatever it was made Mil stop, glance to Arden, glance back to Nikoly, and then grin when Nikoly nodded.

Mil gave his husband a significant, hot look. “This might take a bit,” he warned, still grinning, then headed up the stairs. “Stay the fuck downstairs,” he snapped to the guards who tried to follow him, and took the stairs faster than Tiiran could have even without the weight of armor.

Tiiran turned to Nikoly, seated again and serenely knitting. He was very pleased with himself.

So when Arden turned to Tiiran, one eyebrow arched in question, Tiiran sighed before coming in closer and lowering his voice. Arden leaned in to meet him and Tiiran refused to be charmed by it.

“Some of us never got to play around with outguards like the other assistants.” Tiiran made absolutely sure no one heard him but Arden and possibly Nikoly, who knew anyway. “I suspect Mattin always wanted to.”

The smile the broke out on Arden’s face would have left anyone feeling like a flustered new assistant encountering Orin for the first time. Tiiran did his best to frown through it.

Arden hardly seemed to notice. He was halfway around the desk before he suddenly stopped. A moment later, a piece of paper with Tiiran’s name scratched on it in colored ink appeared on the desk. Mattin’s ink.

Tiiran took it, patting Nikoly absently when Nikoly started to rise to intercept it as if a letter was danger.

And yet, perhaps it was. The ink was Mattin’s but the seal was Arden’s.

Tiiran raised his head.

“An invitation to the wedding,” Arden explained, merry and maybe even wickedly so. “The hand-fasting, I mean. Not all the fuss around it, which is open to anyone. The event unfortunately will be full of beat-of-fours and other nobles. I know how that displeases you, Master Keeper Tiiran.”

“The entire palace knows.” Orin said it, sighing fondly.

Arden’s smile took on shades of even more mischief. “But as the long-lost twin of my dear heart and his work-ally, I would like you there. You may bring two guests as well.”

“Stop being dazzling,” Tiiran told him grumpily, feeling the seal beneath his fingertips but not cracking it.

Arden laughed, startling Nikoly into looking directly at him.

“Nikoly.” Arden bowed his head to him and then to Tiiran again. “Master Tiiran. Always a pleasure to deal with the fae. If you’ll excuse me, I have husbands to attend to.”

Tiiran had his mouth open, a fuck the fae , on his lips, before he realized Arden was used to dealing with the fae, to quite literally bargaining with them, and Tiiran had just played along.

That was always how it was with Arden. As if Arden knew the outcome, or seemed as if he knew the outcome, and was merely waiting for Tiiran and everyone else to see it too.

It was extremely annoying.

“Oh.” Arden paused again, with Tiiran doing his best not to gape after him or think about smacking the smile off his compelling face. “Regarding my dear heart’s duties here and at my side, I had another thought: I don’t think he can represent the Great Library at council meetings anymore. He will already be there as my consort. That was why noble families asked me to marry again, after all, and also, his practical Arlylian spirit is an asset and a comfort to me. We will need another Master Keeper, of course. But… we will also need someone else to sit at the table.” He looked Tiiran right in the eye. “Someone who knows tradition but isn’t afraid to discard it when necessary. Someone who is not afraid of anything, when it comes down to it.”

Nikoly shot to his feet, a knitting needle clenched in each hand.

“Wait.” Orin was loud. “Arden, you can’t.”

Assistants were chattering, a buzz in Tiiran’s ears.

“I couldn’t.” Tiiran stared at Arden of the Canamorra and felt his heart race. “I’m not a beat-of-four.” He drew in a calming breath as he realized what Arden must mean. “You’re speaking of the Master Keeper meant to take notes on the proceedings. Surely Po would be better for that.” She would kill Tiiran for saying so, but he was right. “She doesn’t scare people.”

“I do not mean you bent over a notebook and biting your tongue while nobles argue.” Arden’s dark eyes did not leave Tiiran’s face. “I mean you at the table on my council, Tiiran of the Great Library. Someone who isn’t a beat-of-four might have something of interest to contribute.”

“Fuck.” It could have been Orin or Nikoly. When startled, Nikoly had a bit of muck-mouth too.

“Someone who isn’t a beat-of-four,” Tiiran echoed blankly, but then scoffed. “You should have many such someones helping you work out their fates. Beat-of-fours cause all the trouble for the rest of us, as though we don’t vastly outnumber you. Yet only one on the council?”

Arden shrugged, though Tiiran thought it was a lie. The light, or the fire, or whatever it was in his eyes once again a secret between him and Tiiran. “Just the one for now, and even that will be a fight. It’s taken me this long to feel secure enough to try. But who else would there be but you?”

“Fae-touched.” Nikoly seemed ready to faint. Tiiran reached out to steady him.

Arden flicked Nikoly a look, almost remorseful, but then his attention was back on Tiiran. “So you’ll be there? Mattin will be so pleased to see you.”

Tiiran frowned at him. “No one there will listen to me.”

Nikoly let out a long, unsteady breath. “Cael will.”

“Mattin will,” Arden added. “I will. Mil thinks you’re adorable.” Maybe Arden did feel remorse, because he gave Nikoly’s shoulder a pat. “It will be a fight, every step, every day. For some of us, that’s all we know. But it’s to protect them. It must always be for that.” He glanced over. “I am sorry, Orin. But you can see what he’ll be, can’t you?”

“But do you see the problem you’ve made for yourself?” Orin rumbled back. “Aside from the new enemies you’ll make.”

Arden stilled, head tilted toward Orin like a curious crow.

“At some point, Mattin and Tiiran will be in agreement against you. Are you ready for that ?” Orin used his mild voice, but it slid into something mean by the end.

Arden tilted his head in the other direction, apparently considering this.

He finally nodded. “I see. I would not be Canamorra if I weren’t also terrible. But that’s only a stronger argument for why he’s needed. For me, and for my dear heart when I am… when I am Arden Canamorra.” Arden looked back at Tiiran. “I will have to face that challenge when it comes.” Tiiran had no doubt that he would, the coal-raking menace, the fae-touched Canamorra miscreant. He huffed and Arden’s smile returned. “I hope to see you there,” he said, pleasant again.

He would have eyes for none but his husbands and not give one shit whether or not Tiiran was in attendance.

Arden waved his guards to stay away, apparently counting on Mil to direct him to Mattin. Mil likely would. Meanwhile, the library was full of outguards-turned-palace guards, and the assistants were staring.

Tiiran considered the ceiling as well as Arden’s irritating ability to act as though the outcome he wanted was always certain, even when he knew it wasn’t, then reached out for Nikoly, who seemed especially eager to be petted.

Nikoly was worried. So was Orin, who came over to stand so close to Tiiran he might as well have picked Tiiran up as he clearly wanted to. His hands slid over Tiiran’s waist, then his arms were around Tiiran and Tiiran was pressed against him, but Orin left Tiiran’s feet on the ground.

That was Tiiran’s rule when around the assistants. Just as Nikoly could be touched in public, but was never to be embarrassed. But of course, neither of them was thinking about that now. They were thinking of Tiiran in the king’s council chamber.

“He still has enemies,” Orin spoke quietly. “And beat-of-fours won’t want to hear what you’ll have to say.”

“Fae-touched,” Nikoly said again, leaning his head against Tiiran’s chest. “I knew you were, Tiiran. It must be for this. Cael is going to…. Oh, she must already know. Arden would have…. She didn’t tell me.” He was the one gently fretting. Cael was going to give Tiiran a stern look. She always did. Tiiran suspected it was to remind him not to hurt Nikoly’s heart or endanger him.

Tiiran had no control over that. Nikoly did as he pleased.

With Arden and Mil gone, Tiiran slipped a hand into Nikoly’s shirt to press against the rose and ivy markings. Ivy around his collarbone to show he wanted to be useful. Roses at the base of his throat because he was Tiiran’s. Tiiran stroked them in the hopes it would calm him.

Orin was frightened for him but he hadn’t suggested Tiiran refuse. Tiiran wouldn’t have said Orin approved, but he was there and his presence was warm, so it might just be his terror temporarily outweighing his reason.

“ Oh .” Tiiran couldn’t look up to see Orin’s face.

“Oh,” Orin agreed, a touch sharp but also still warm. “Though you continue to deny it, you are the danger, kitten.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Tiiran asked weakly. Master Keeper and head of the Great Library, who shared a bed and a home with Elorin Vahti, outguard and solver of the king’s problems, and Nikoly of the Rossick, who had the ear of the palace Head of House. Master Keeper who also had the ear of the king, and at least one of the king’s husbands. Possibly both of them, if Mil truly thought Tiiran was adorable, the tosspot. “Oh, Orin.” Tiiran spun around to meet Orin’s stare. “Orin, I’m powerful.”

He swallowed dryly, then quickly shook his head. “Don’t ever let me act like a noble,” he instructed Orin, then turned back to Nikoly. “Or like a useless fucking fae. Orin,” Tiiran whined again, “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Don’t you?” Orin was mean, but softened it by nuzzling the pretty braids Nikoly put into Tiiran’s hair every morning. “You have a place,” Orin reminded him with a sigh. “You have people.”

“You’ve always been powerful, honeybee.” Nikoly, unlike Orin, seemed fine with his fears, or maybe that was because Tiiran’s hands were on him. “Now it’s just that others will see.”

“Not helping, pup,” Orin chided, but ran his hand over the closely-shaved lines of Nikoly’s hair, possibly to make Nikoly’s eyes flutter closed.

Tiiran stared at the pretty sight before movement made him glance over to the copying tables. Elbi was hunched over her work and squinting.

“Elbi, you need more light.” Tiiran raised his voice to remind her, then quietly returned to other issues. “Copying is likely not her purpose here. She’ll need other duties.” Maybe she would do for Mattin’s assistant. Tiiran would have to look into it. Her tasks could not only be library related. Mattin’s other responsibilities would bleed into them, that was the way of things. So it would need to be an assistant perhaps not entirely set on a career within the library.

That complicated matters. But matters did always get complicated, didn’t they? Tiiran had Nikoly to help him with nearly everything, and he would need even more help if he sat on the council.

They’d need someone new and well-trained to work the desk. Maybe two people, because few were as competent as Nikoly.

But then what of Orin? Nikoly took care of him too. Orin might need an assistant and—

“You are not getting an assistant of your own, Orin. You will need one, I admit, but they will fall in love with you, and I will not have it! Nikoly can’t take care of another as well as us, and you are already overworked without some new duckling fawning all over you. Would an outguard who is a bit odd do for an assistant for you? Not as Nikoly is—no one ever could be. But to assist you with work matters? You must have a staff, Orin. Oh, look what that miserable beat-of-four has done.”

“There it is.” Nikoly sighed with pleasure.

“Already.” Orin made a little noise of agreement or maybe dismay. “They won’t know what hit them and I will gain more grays.”

“I am fond of your grays, Orin.” Tiiran wriggled against him before recalling himself and their audience. “More responsibilities means more help, means more paperwork and budgeting. Fucksticks.” Tiiran paused to give Orin a glare. “And eager ducklings who will also like your grays.”

Orin bent down, bringing their faces close. “I have a full heart and a full bed. No need for more ducklings, jealous cat.”

“This isn’t jealousy,” Tiiran huffed. “This is facts. You need a staff. They will fall in love with you.”

Orin flicked a look to Nikoly, who looked at Tiiran and then back at Orin.

“They will,” Nikoly agreed, making both Tiiran and Orin frown. “But that doesn’t mean Orin will love them in return.”

Tiiran fought the urge to squirm under Orin’s displeasure. The need to squirm meant Tiiran had done something to warrant punishment. Nikoly’s words meant he must agree.

Orin stayed in Tiiran’s face. “The only reason your assistants do not declare their love for you is that they know Nikoly is waiting with a knitting needle should they ever try.”

Nikoly ducked his head. Tiiran tried to be annoyed with him but couldn’t.

“Then I will have to do something similar with your staff,” Tiiran answered after a pause.

“You already do,” Nikoly murmured. “You’d stab Mil if you thought you could get away with it.”

Ducklings came in all sizes, Tiiran had learned.

“He’s no stray. And he has a king for a Master.” Tiiran sniffed. “And Mattin as well.” Although Tiiran was not sure how that worked and was not going to ask. “He doesn’t get you .”

Orin sighed heavily, but Tiiran thought he was pleased deep down. He always was whenever Tiiran and Nikoly were possessive of him. Tiiran didn’t know why, but it was no hardship to do it.

“If anything, you stabbing Mil would make him like you more,” Orin muttered, then straightened. “You’re anxious so you’re picking a fight, little cat. You know there are consequences for that.”

“Your office, Tiiran?” Nikoly suggested smoothly, and moved before either of them could answer, his measured, graceful steps away from the desk mesmerizing. Tiiran reached for Orin’s hand to pull him along as he followed after, not that Orin needed pulling.

“I’m only speaking the truth, Orin,” Tiiran remarked the moment they were out of sight of the tables.

Orin gave his bottom a good smack.

“Orin!” Tiiran complained breathlessly, instantly hot all over.

Nikoly opened the door to Tiiran’s office for them, and for Gray, who snuck into Tiiran’s office so often in his retirement years that Tiiran had set up a bed for him near the fireplace and Nikoly had built steps to the window seat so the aged cat wouldn’t have to jump.

Nikoly didn’t get a chance to step into the room, falling against the doorjamb and shuddering weakly when Orin loomed over him. Nikoly must have expected Orin to be focused on Tiiran. Which he was, to be fair. Orin had a hold of Tiiran’s hand and had not relinquished it. But his attention was hot on Nikoly.

“And how about our Nikoly? Were you good, pup?” Orin kept his voice low.

Nikoly’s gaze flicked to Tiiran, then returned to Orin. “I tried to be.”

“He was.” Tiiran always gave in but Tiiran also always meant it when he praised Nikoly. “I have been…. Well, he missed you.” Rather a lot, more than usual for an absence of only a few days. Perhaps the approaching wedding and all the new intricacies and dangers had Nikoly bothered too. Cael was undoubtedly tense as a lute string.

Orin gave Tiiran a questioning glance.

“He missed you a great deal. So I was trying to do as you do, Orin.” Not trying to be mean to the sunflower in his usual manner, but trying to be mean to him the way Orin was. “I have not let him finish since the day after you left.”

Orin stared down at Nikoly, who was shivering much more obviously now.

“But I continued to use him,” Tiiran related. “Or at least, I did somewhat . But really, I wanted…. He’s so pretty when he’s flushed, Orin. I won’t be able to resist much longer.” Nikoly glanced at him, his cheeks darker and his lips parted. Tiiran came closer to pet him, then looked up at Orin. “So you should use him for a while first to make him wait longer because I can’t.”

Lyli’s shaky, soft moan was impossibly lovely. Tiiran was going to suck his cock until he was twitching and not once let him finish.

“Then you should use me,” Tiiran added thoughtfully, tugging Orin’s hand to his mouth to kiss his fingers. “Make him watch.”

“Very good, kitten.” Orin pressed a kiss to the top of Tiiran’s head. “Did you want to finish, Nikoly?”

Breathing hard, Nikoly nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again.

“Ah,” Orin said, seemingly calm. “Weren’t you good while I was gone? Don’t you deserve it? You have not even offered me a kiss in welcome.”

“Please. Please kiss me, Orin.” Nikoly begged immediately, right there in the hall, as if he was so riled and eager after days of Tiiran touching him and using his mouth that he had forgotten his dislike of being embarrassed.

“He was good.” Tiiran had to defend him. “There is pomegranate for you, Orin. Even though you didn’t come to see us first before traipsing after your king.”

“ My king,” Orin echoed, amused. “And you using me to bargain for Mattin’s happiness? Was that truly for Mattin, or was it because Arden had you flustered?”

Tiiran couldn’t cross his arms because Orin hadn’t let go of his hand. “I wasn’t really bargaining with you.”

“You were,” Orin corrected, unyielding. “And you will have to beg for forgiveness.”

Tiiran pulled in a long, steadying breath. That would have to wait. Nikoly had to be dealt with first, obviously. But the delay would make it better—worse, but better.

“Yes, Orin,” he went on, trembling inside. “Anyway, we could always go with you if he sends you away. I am quite a seasoned traveler now.”

Nikoly’s lips curled up, either amused at Tiiran for saying it or pleased at the idea of Arden sending Orin away to spite Tiiran, only for Tiiran and Nikoly to go with him.

Tiiran was a seasoned traveler, though. He had gone all the way to Rossick territory. He had met Rossicks, and Astvans, and seen mountain wolves, and heard fae laughter when he’d been unable to look away from Nikoly receiving new markings—he’d been lovelier than Tiiran had imagined, and still flushed and pain-drunk later when Orin had fucked him.

Tiiran had even been marked in the same manner several days later, although not around his throat like Nikoly, and had been equally pain-drunk although far less lovely. Nikoly had pleasured him twice in the aftermath, although his fervor had possibly been more for Tiiran getting marked the way the Rossick did. He had reacted in the same way when Orin had consented to the piercings.

The point was, Tiiran could stand some pain and discomfort and travel.

“Kitten.” Orin was smiling. “You hate travel.”

“For you, Orin, I would.” This was obvious. Tiiran had visited Orin’s family twice, after all. And invited them to the palace, although only Orin’s mother and father had accepted the invitation so far. Maybe the others would come for the wedding. “I dislike it when you’re away.” And perhaps Arden was right to stress about the wedding, and Mattin, and worry over increased dangers. “And Lyli had only me to care for. That’s not enough to keep him controlled. If you needed it—if he needed it, you could always take just him with you.”

“And leave you here alone?” Orin and Nikoly demanded at once.

Then Nikoly abruptly closed his mouth.

Orin bent in to kiss Nikoly’s brow and press the tip of his nose to Nikoly’s temple. “Don’t worry, pet. I won’t let him do that to us.”

Tiiran still could not cross his arms. “You haven’t even kissed him properly yet.”

“That’s true,” Nikoly agreed softly, giving Orin a pleading glance. “You have not kissed me, or Tiiran, for that matter. Bee was focused on me, but he was still anxious. It’s this wedding and all the stress. I wasn’t enough to calm him, either.” He put one flowered hand to Orin’s chest, pomegranate-stained fingertips pressing gently into his gambeson. “We need you when you’re gone.”

“Demanding pets,” Orin growled before kissing Nikoly until Nikoly was panting, then turning to Tiiran. “Demanding husbands,” he sighed before finally giving Tiiran a kiss—far too brief of a kiss, in Tiiran’s opinion, but he did rest a hand on the back of Tiiran’s neck and the inked marking in the shape of a hissing cat. Whenever he did that, Tiiran inexplicably wanted to curl up in his arms. Orin knew it, too. “You have had each other for almost a week,” he reminded them both. “I’ve been thinking only of home.”

Tiiran leapt at him, standing on Orin’s toes to kiss him again, nearly pushing all three of them through the door. He meant to apologize, but Orin hauled him close when Tiiran went to step away, and then Nikoly ushered them through the rest of the way and shut the door firmly behind them.

The End