Page 10 of The Second Marriage

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The light was fadingby the time Taral returned to Tadasho. The fortress was in just as much upheaval as it had been when he left, but this time the cause was different. When he went up to his room, weary from the long ride and aching from the long-held pain that had driven him to it, he was brought up short at the top of the stairs. The walkway was cluttered with what appeared to be the entire contents of his room, and retainers bustled back and forth putting items into chests and carrying those chests away.

He caught the attention of a passing servant. “What’s happening here?”

The boy’s brow furrowed. “Moving your things, Your Highness. The queen said you’d want a larger room now that you’re married.”

“Did she,” Taral said.

“I thought—maybe we misunderstood,” the boy said, furrows deepening.

“No, carry on with your business. Thank you.”

With a quick bob of a bow, the boy went on, carrying an armful of Taral’s linens to some unknown destination.

He hadn’t thought of anything past the wedding, but of course Iniya had; this was her farce to maintain, and she wouldn’t let anything get in the way of the comfortable life she wanted. Keeping his own room after his marriage would be unorthodox at best. He would have to share with Sejun and sleep beside him every night, and wake beside him every morning, for at least a year or two before they could respectably part ways and take their separate lovers.

He would truly have no privacy now.

He followed the trail of servants, carting their goods like ants returning to their nest with choice morsels. The room Iniya had chosen lay on the far side of the fortress, a large corner room with a balcony attached. He couldn’t fault her selection; they would have plenty of space, and the private balcony would suit them nicely. Iniya was bribing him to accept this arrangement without protest, and he would, as he had accepted every other part of this scheme. He would live here with Sejun and be—what? Happy?

Happiness was a dream for children. The dream of a blissful marriage with a man you loved, of sleeping in his arms every night—that was nonsense, or at least it was nonsense for him. He had put that behind him.

He waited until the doorway was clear and went into the room. The door to the balcony was open, letting in a damp breeze and the last of the evening light. Taral went to stand at the threshold and found Sejun there, sitting with a book.

“Oh,” Taral said as Sejun looked up. Foolishly, he hadn’t considered that he might find Sejun here. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Hardly.” Sejun smiled at him as he stuck a ribbon between the pages and closed the book. “Where have you been? Iniya was looking for you.”

How quickly Sejun had dropped all formality with Taral’s sister. She had encouraged that, he was sure. “I went out riding. There was so much commotion with the dowry. I thought it would be best to remove myself.”

“Yes, you were terribly underfoot.” Sejun’s tone was dry and the look he gave Taral was fond, his lips slanted with a suppressed smile. “What do you think of this room?”

“I like it well enough. We can move elsewhere if you’d rather.”

“No. I’m pleased to have a balcony.” Sejun rose to his feet and came toward Taral, standing closer than was polite. Taral resisted the urge to step back. “And pleased to be near you. Do you snore?”

“I—not that I know of. Do you?”

Sejun laughed. “No. I’m a poor sleeper, though, and am often awake in the night. So if you wake to find the bed empty, I’ve only gone to wander the colonnade.”

“Noted.”

Sejun somehow shifted closer without actually moving, and Taral held his breath as Sejun raised a hand to adjust the collar of Taral’s robe, his fingertips brushing Taral’s neck where the bruises bloomed on his skin.

“Have you eaten?” Sejun asked.

Taral’s head was spinning from this conversation. “Not yet. And I imagine I should bathe. I smell like horse.”

“I don’t mind. Do you go out riding often? I’m not much for excursions, although I do enjoy a picnic from time to time. But it’s so much trouble to take a horse out, and then what do you do except turn around and come home again?”

Taral did not want to find Sejun charming. He wanted to make some excuse to end this conversation so that he could go find his dinner. His mouth said, “I like to look for unusual rocks. Fossils and the like. I sell them to merchants sometimes, and they take them on to collectors in Chedi and all around the Middle Sea, I suppose.”

“Incredible. I hardly know what a fossil is. You’ll have to show me.” Sejun’s hand came to Taral’s neck again, this time deliberately stroking the bruises, and Taral did step back then. There were servants in the room behind him. This wasn’t the place.

“I should—my food,” he said.

Sejun’s eyes were bright with wicked mischief. “Yes, very important to eat. I’ll attend to everything here.”