“Or maybe they thought a legion of trained, armed people with a grudge against them would be a bad idea and left them alone.” Zelli wrinkled his nose. “But I suspect you’re right.”
Arden’s amusement only became more obvious. “Most of us have been sticking to familiar territories, for lack of assignment elsewhere. My husband and I tend to wander.”
“It’s probably better that we’ve been ignored,” Zelli admitted with a sigh. “No reports of our crop yields or anything to remind anyone we exist.”
“We?” echoed Tahlen lowly.
Mil gave no sign he’d heard that, though Zelli thought both outguards had. “Best to avoid notice. The palace is an unstable place.”
“Curse the Canamorra,” Tahlen added fervently.
Mil’s grin grew mean even as he busied himself with clearing up the remaining bits of their provisions.
“It’s long past time for one of these grasping fools to at least prove competent at ruling,” Arden remarked. “I think the beat-of-fours might accept anyone at this point, provided they were sensible and not too cruel.”
“And yet, does anyone currently fighting for a crown fit that description?” Tahlen asked, but paused and gave Zelli another look. Zelli lowered his gaze to where his hand had moved to rest on Tahlen’s thigh. He lifted his hand away guiltily. Tahlen frowned.
Zelli quickly turned to Arden. “Tahlen is right. They spend their time attacking each other instead of building alliances. Now, with all this bad feeling between the families, to get the crownwouldrequire some sort of violence… unless someone was very lucky. All of the contenders have done that—violence, that is. But none of them have been smart enough to stop there, to turn immediately to security and governance, as Tahlen might say. People want things to be calm, to be normal, for the river to safely be used for trade and travel again, for nobles to keep to their work in their own lands. If the majority of the people are happy, then the other families can rattle their swords all they like but they’ll have no support. Even the most warlike beat-of-four has to turn their attention to their people or their land will suffer, and they will rule nothing.” Zelli took a deep breath, then added, thoughtfully, “If this person also happened to have a family name that no one would contest had a right to be in the capital, that would stop them too.”
Arden put his hands on his knees to lean forward as if Zelli had said something fascinating. “Wise enough to take the palace in such a way that it would not be seen as the actions of a traitorandbold enough to then drop their weapons? Then also clever enough to learn the running of the country? I would welcome this person too, should they exist.”
“Ask the fae.” Mil gestured at the air but looked to Zelli.
“In return for what?” Arden shook his head. “What would possibly please them enough for them to show us the way to a new ruler and a time of peace?”
“I find the more emotional an offering, the more it pleases them,” Zelli remarked, but his thoughts were similar to Arden’s. If the fae wanted the matter settled, they could do so now. They either didn’t care or were waiting, and no human was likely to discover the answer. The fae would interfere when they felt they needed to and not a moment before.
“That, I suspect, is very true,” Arden commented. “The fae are ever-delighted with proof of our human foibles and devotions, bless and keep them well.”
A tricky dealer he might be, but Arden’s quick thinking might also be why the fae had favored Arden with a glimpse of themselves. Even Zelli had not been granted that.
He regarded Arden in slightly envious wonder and Arden stared back, eyes wide and sparkling, before he turned again to Tahlen. “It’s no shame to be captivated by them.”
That Tahlen stayed silent in response was not a surprise, but Zelli answered for him. “Tahlen is possibly the one doing the captivating. The fae think highly of him, even if they’ve allowed him to get stuck in some of my messes. Perhaps because he’s so strong. They know he can bear it.”
A sweet sigh from Mil startled him. Zelli looked to Mil in question but found Mil, like Arden, now also considering Tahlen. Unlike Arden, Mil frowned, then smiled and sighed again.
“The line of your shoulders,” Mil volunteered suddenly. “The determined silence. Reminds me of a young beat-of-four in the palace I once knew, who was often gentle despite the world around him. But don’t mind me. I’m just thinking of the past.”
“Ah, my love,” Arden whispered sadly and pressed a kiss to Mil’s cheek.
Zelli curled his hands into his cloak and wriggled in his seat because he couldn’t scratch. The side of Tahlen’s face showed little emotion. Tahlen might welcome a kiss on the cheek from someone, but not Zelli and not in that moment.
“The palace?” Zelli’s voice was husky. “I’ve never been. Maybe someday, when things are better again. I’d like to at least see it once.”
Arden’s rolled a shoulder. “You might like the palace if fashions and intrigue interest you. Most of the young nobles like their bed sport as well, as I remember.”
Tahlen’s jaw tightened. No doubt he was thinking of what could have been his life.
“Maybe someday you will go,” Zelli whispered to him encouragingly, stopping his hand from settling on Tahlen’s knee just in time.
Tahlen turned his whole body toward Zelli and gave him such a baffled stare that Zelli had to return it.
Where before, Tahlen might have simply turned back, silent and stone, this time he started to, visibly checked himself, and then said, “I have no need to see the palace, Zelli. Not unless you want to,” before he returned to keeping a watchful Tahlen eye on their guests.
“Oh, that is adorab…” Mil harrumphed at the nudge to his arm from his husband and didn’t finish whatever he’d been about to say. He muttered something, got up to return some of their provisions to the horses, and came back with a huge log, which he laid on top of the fire before sitting down again.
“I notice you have a short staff with you,” Mil began, looking to Tahlen with another toothy, almost hungry smile. “Bet you’re a good hand with it. Too many rely on just one skill set. I don’t suppose…. No. It’s too late and dark for sparring, but I’d like to see your work with it someday.”
