Charon frowned at the letter. “She might be worried. If she reveals too much, it will give you an advantage.”
“You’re making it sound likeI’mthe one who’s constantly puttingheron the defensive,” Yves said. Charon gave him a blank, level look, and Yves pointed at him. “Stop that. You only do that stare-down when you’re trying to wait someone out. I know I’m a brat, butshe’sstubborn as a mule.” Charon raised a brow. “Don’t say that I’m stubborn!”
Charon didn’t have to say anything to make his opinion clear. Just the way he folded the letter told Yves,you’re so stubborn that it’s not even worth saying it aloud.
“Maybe families like mine are why the Arkoudai put their kids in the barracks,” Yves said. “We’re always talking over each other, getting in each other’s lives, causing trouble…”
“The barracks aren’t better,” Charon said. He hesitated before continuing. “I grew up there, before I was apprenticed.” He didn’t say where he’d been apprenticed, but Yves had a few educated guesses. Charon knew too much about people to have been an ordinary soldier, and the books Yves read about Arktos hinted at a robust spy network. Anyone with sense would have put Charon in charge of making secret codes or reading people’s lips from afar.
“What was it like?” he asked.
Charon’s brows pinched together. “It was regulated. You woke up at the same time every day, went to lessons, trained with weapons. People would watch you in class when you were older, to recruit you. Your friends were usually the people who slept in the bunks nearby.”
Yves wondered if it was easier for Charon to sayyouinstead ofI.
“My friends were my neighbors,” Yves said. “I don’t know if my siblings counted. I basically raised half of them.”
Charon looked down at the letter folded in his hands. “You helped raise them, yet your mother still treats you like a child. Is that because she put the most effort into raising you, first?”
“That’s an unsettling thought,” Yves said. “I guess there wasn’t anyone to get between us when I was growing up. I usually took the blame if the others made a mistake, because I should have been there to look after them. ThenI took the blame for my own mistakes because I was the first one making them, and everyone else learned from my example. I guess that isn’t how it works in Arktos.”
“Not unless you’re an officer,” Charon said. “But there were schools for that.”
“Officer Yves.” Yves grinned at him. “I bet I could manage it.”
“You’d upend the military in a month.”
“I don’t know, give me a week and see what I can do.” Yves tossed his hair, and Charon gave him the subtle little eyebrow quirk that meant,all right, you’re pretty, I know.Yves batted his eyelashes for good measure. Even if anything more was impossible, it was too easy to slip back into the warm, pleasant feeling that filled him in Charon’s company. “My mother still thinks I’m about to cause an incident, like the whole spring festival debacle when I was sixteen. The problem is, I still feel like I’m sixteen when I’m around her. I think I always will, no matter how old I get. I think there’s a tiny piece of our clueless, chaotic teen years stuck inside all of us, waiting to come out and wreak havoc.”
Charon’s smile faded slightly. He looked quite pretty when he smiled. Yves could see how people would mistake him for someone from Katoikos, which favored beauty more than strength. Even though Charon was a broad, powerful man, he had a hidden elegance that slipped free when he was alone with Yves. It probably came out with Laurent, too—Yves didn’t think he wasspecialfor seeing it—but a part of him wanted it for himself.
“I didn’t know what I wanted when I was young,” Charon said. “I only did what I was told.”
Yves hummed. “I’m not sure about that. You made it here, didn’t you? The Arkoudai weren’t allowed to leave then, I know that much. So you had to want something.”
A shadow flickered over Charon’s face. “I did want something,” he said, after a long silence. “But I lost it in Arktos.”
“Wait, you did?” Yves leaned forward. “Maybe we can find it, or I can get the soldiers at the border to give it back. You know I can be pretty convincing.”
“Pretty stubborn, you mean.”
Yves winked. For a second there, Charon had looked like he was about to slip into a gloom. Yves knew that whatever Charon had lost probably wasn’t a real, tangible thing. It must have been a part of him, maybe even the messy childhood he’d never been allowed to have. Yves pretending otherwise softened the hard set of Charon’s mouth and chased the shadows out of his eyes. He could wait to find out the rest. Pushing it now could close Charon off again, and Yves was too selfish to lose the friendship they had left.
“That’s what we’ll do,” he said. “The next time you’re in Staria—and you’ll be back, Charon, Laurent won’t let you disappear—we can go to the border and I can work a little magic.”
“You’ll be married by then,” Charon said.
Yves couldn’t imagine meeting Charon again as a married man. In all honesty, he was more likely to be gloriously divorced by then, but it was probably gauche to admit it. Traveling through Staria with Charon, though; he could imagine that. Charon would probably prefer to camp, but Yves was sure he could convince him to stay at enough inns to get a decent bath or three on the way. If theydidhappen to pass the Cooper farm, Yves wouldn’t mind introducing him to Sunny or his cousin Harriet before running off.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m married or not,” Yves said at last, and leaned over to pat Charon’s arm. “I’ll always have time for you.”
Charon shifted closer, and Yves’ cheeks went hot as his shadow crossed over the flickering light at the window.
“I should tell you,” Charon said. “Some of your suitors have approached me.”
“Oh.” Yves was so close that he could lean forward and bury his face in Charon’s chest—which he was gamely trying not to imagine. “For hints? I hope they offered to pay you.”
“You shouldn’t hope that,” Charon said. “Anyone who would buy you isn’t trustworthy.”
