The command made Zelli even warmer and he glared at the side of Tahlen’s face for it. But he ate the biscuits each time, just as Tahlen ignored his continued sulking, and in that fashion, they rode on.
By the time the sun was high, Zelli was aching more than a little. He was tired from his mostly sleepless nights, he was hungry but not for biscuits, and he itched beneath his skin for more of Tahlen’s touch yet could not think of it without squirming. He also wanted a bath.
With Tahlen’s cloak’s hood up over his head, he slumped in the saddle, disliking everything but thoughts of Tahlen and the night before—which he could not think of without sighing loudly and drawing someone’s eyes to him. Usually Tahlen’s, sometimes Fy’s, who would wink.
They stopped for a short time to rest, all of them chatting with Tahlen about the weather and how much longer the sunny days would last while Zelli paced to ease some of his restlessness. It wasn’t enough. He chided himself for wanting Tahlen in his bed tonight when Tahlen was undoubtedly as exhausted as he was and also had made no promises to be there. Zelli had told Tahlen the lust-fever was better today than it had been last night, and it was, comparatively. But there was still Zelli’s wish-induced problem to consider. The more Zelli thought about it, the more possible it seemed that he would have to ask Tahlen to help him through the night, or spend several more miserable hours even after he arrived home.
At least he could bathe properly once he was there. He tried to cheer himself with that.
“Vint thinks I have no manners,” Fy said slowly and clearly. Zelli turned to consider Fy in confused astonishment.
Tahlen was not far away, probably listening, but he hadn’t glared Fy off.
Zelli did his best to focus on Fy’s merry countenance. “You have manners, but they aren’t palace manners,” he remarked as lightly as he could.
“Which means none, to Vint. Very proper, my brother. Meant to be the sort of guard to follow around The Lyralinah himself.” Fy’s smile did not slip but somehow felt false.
Zelli glanced toward Vint. He looked not at all like Fy, but that happened in families, even without fae blood. Many also adopted. Even the rulers liked to choose their heirs.
“Our parents came together when Vint was around thirteen years,” Fy explained, as if he’d seen Zelli’s questioning look. “He found me very annoying, always, and I was. Am.” He shrugged. “No manners, as he says.”
“But he’s here with you,” Zelli reminded him. “Or are you with him?”
“He’s with me,” Fy said, quieter now.
Zelli frowned, though he had been frowning long before Fy had decided to speak to him. “He was meant to personally serve The Lyralinah, but he came with you when you broke your oath? What of…?” Zelli didn’t let himself ask the question. Sworn guards often served a family for generations. Fy and Vint’s parents might still serve the Lyralinah, might even be with the Villucatto chasing them, although Zelli hoped not.
“He’s a very proper kind of person,” Fy reiterated. “But there was this time he and one of the kitchen workers decided to get friendly. Nothing improper in that, but they chose a spot between buildings, and forgot it was a balmy night and windows were open. And well, half of the kitchen staff heard them, as well as anyone else in the kitchens. Which was a great deal of us, since a shift had just ended and people were hungry.”
Zelli put a hand over his mouth. “Oh no.”
Fy winked at him again. “Which is to say nothing of how all the guards who are unattached and live with the main Lyralinah branch of the family stay in the same barracks, so we tend to hearthingsfrom time to time.” Fy inclined his head toward Zelli. “We do not deal with the fae as easily as you do.” Zelli made a frustrated face which Fy didn’t seem to notice. “But we recognize that fae gifts—bless them and keep them—can be tricky.”
Zelli blew out a breath. “I was hot. I didn’t think about the window,” he complained. “But thank you for this, Fy. You have manners, even if you are the only one who knows the rules to them. Perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me about how those on the coast deal with planting seasons.”
Fy blinked rapidly several times.
“There are many around here who would be interested,” Zelli added in explanation. “And… I would appreciate a distraction.”
“Ah,” said Fy, and began to gesture to Wain. “I can tell you what little I know, but Wain’s people were grocers and he might know more.”
“That will do,” Zelli said earnestly. “I thank you again.”
Despite the lecture from Wain, Fy’s jokes, and Tern’s interest in how warmth was made and the different varieties within the valley, Zelli began to lose track of the conversations. He stared at Tahlen too much and had to bite his lip when Tahlen offered his hand to hold.
They passed the small waystation and Zelli forgot himself while imagining Tahlen taking him there as the others rode ahead.
The sound of Tahlen calling his name pulled him from the daydream. Zelli kept his head down after that, and his arms crossed, and wore Tahlen’s cloak like a tent.
Their odd little force began to ride faster, leaving Zelli to wonder if they’d all exchanged annoyed or despairing glances above his head and decided to pick up the pace.
“What sort of impression of the Tialttyrin I am giving?” he worried out loud to Tahlen, who was riding alongside Zelli once again.
“You’re hurrying home despite your obvious discomfort,for them, and they know that,” Tahlen answered. “Don’t mind the rest. We’re almost there.”
“I don’t feel well,” Zelli informed him, very softly.
Tahlen answered in the same manner. “I know. Do you want to stop?”
