“You killed for me.” Tiiran put another petal on his tongue, uncertain if he liked the taste or not. “Both of you. For all his wildness, Nikoly perhaps did it cleaner than you did, Orin, or am I wrong?” He looked up at Orin, who was trying to bank his fires. Tiiran shook his head and held up a petal for him. “And you are not sorry.” If Tiiran felt anything about that, he felt it distantly. “You came for me,” he said again, pleased when Orin ate the petal directly from his hand. “And you helped Nikoly stay alive, and you carried me all this way.”
He dragged his gaze from Orin to Nikoly. “Thank you for understanding him.” Tiiran offered Nikoly a petal as well, sighing when it was accepted. “You came for me, and you also risked dying for me. Do I need to name it for you, or are you pretending that we are not all the same?”
Orin’s hands tightened on his waist.
Nikoly leapt forward and was kissing Tiiran in the next moment, soft and fierce kisses all over his face. “I am yours. I am yours.” He pulled Tiiran’s hand to his throat, rose and all. “I won’t wait for her permission. You aremybee.”
Orin pulled Tiiran to him, encircling Nikoly as well as if perhaps Orin wanted to help Tiiran calm him. But, to Tiiran’s mind, there was no better place to be than in Orin’s embrace, and he suspected Nikoly would agree, even if it would worry Nikoly to admit it. Orin’s arms were a snuggery beyond compare, a shelter of brick and iron, but giving where necessary. Tiiran didn’t even mind the mail anymore.
Orin kissed the top of Tiiran’s head and spoke hoarsely. “I will bathe you myself, little cat, and watch you eat more strictly than even your Lyli would. Shh now.” He was petting Tiiran again, perhaps because Tiiran was trembling. “You did so well on your own. You saved us and got free. Let us do this for you. You’re worn through, and we’re here. Let us have this.”
“Did I do it?” Tiiran asked him without a single objection to being picked up once again. The palace complex was vast and Tiiran wasn’t sure he had the strength to cross it. “Did I make you feel it too?” he went on, when they bothstilldidn’t seem to understand. “Did I make you feel the love I have for you?” he elaborated, slightly vexed, and glanced up to Orin’s stunned face. “I named it as you asked me to.”
“So you did,” Orin agreed after a few humming moments. “Good, kitten. Exactly right. And yes, yes you did. While also scaring me half to death.”
“Then we’re even,” Tiiran huffed at him, distracted a moment later by Nikoly handing him several more roses.
Nikoly drew one of his swords. The blood on his face had hidden how tired he was from Tiiran at first but it was obvious now. Tiiran gave him one rose back.
“Eat,” Tiiran ordered as firmly as he could. “If you are mine, then eat. I love you.”
He took a petal from one of the others and held it up for Orin, who didn’t have his hands free and would need to be fed. Orin bent his head to take it.
“I can be this soft at least,” Tiiran informed him, fingertips lingering on Orin’s lips once the petal was gone.
If the fae had something to say about that, they kept it to themselves.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two days after Piya had been killed by former outguard and current king, Arden of the Canamorra, the gate to the palace was open and ordered to stay that way, the palace kitchens and gardens were directing resources to those struggling in the capital because of thick river traffic slowing the import of goods, and the capital was regaining some of its noble population. The commoners, of course, had mostly been unable to leave quickly, so the rejoicing in the streets had been left to them.
And itwasrejoicing, though some beat-of-fours would have been shocked to see it.
Tiiran wasn’t certain of the exact cause since the residents of the capital had only been indirectly affected by Piya’s poor choices. But Arden of the Canamorra had been a hero to them for years for choosing the life of a commoner—and for choosing a commoner husband, Mattin had been quick to point out.
As soon as river traffic allowed, Mattin was going to travel to his family’s territory to assuage their worries over his well-being. He planned to return as soon as he could, although, since Tiiran doubted nobles would be calling on the Great Library for a while, Tiiran had told him to enjoy the visit for as long as he wanted, ashomewas not something to be taken lightly.
Anyway, the other main duty of the Great Library was recording the reports of the Outguard. And since most, if not all, members of the Palace Guard were no longer members of said guard—many of them no longer living, some in the Outguard were now serving as security for the new king and his husband, so the library was not going to be inundated with reports. At least not for several weeks or perhaps even longer as the country calmed and settled.
That was why Po and Amie, who had only made it to the edge of the capital with Pearl before news of Tiiran’s arrest had drawn them back, had insisted that all the assistants shouldn’t be working either. The capital was celebrating, the palace was reorganizing itself with the help of the new Head of House, so the library doors could stay closed for a day or two in order for the librarians to also do some celebrating.
Celebrating was loud. Tiiran was used to a quiet library and was still recovering from time spent in the dark and cold without food or water. He would rather have been in bed, but Po was taking advantage of his soft, unsteady mood, as he should have expected from her.
She’d shown up, taken one look at him, and demanded to know what fool thing he’d done to get himself taken and didn’t he know better by now? Tiiran had thrown his arms around her and put his face on her shoulder before he could control the impulse.
Po had started sniffling. Tiiran had growled at her but not let go. Now he was here because she’d asked.
Well, he was also here because Orin had suggested that perhaps the assistants needed some time to enjoynotworrying for their lives. And because Lanth had liked visiting taverns and pubs in her spare time and would have wanted Tiiran to try doing the same.Andbecause Nikoly had been asking Tiiran to come to the capital with him for months, so Tiiran had felt he ought to finally agree to, although he had no intention of behaving as the others were.
He couldn’t anyway; at the moment, he grew exhausted too quickly, and even in a crowded, noisy tavern, wearing far too many layers of shirts and vests and robes, he couldn’t seem to stay warm. His cough lingered, although it hadn’t grown worse.
His need for additional warmth was why he had been squashed between Orin and Nikoly on one side of the table the library assistants shared, at least until Nikoly had gotten up to fetch more drink or food, and Orin had been briefly dragged away by someone he knew, with assistants all coming and going around them.
Except for Mattin, who was seated away from all of them at the other end of the tavern, a notebook in hand as he listened with rapt attention to the bard currently performing. As bards were often part fae, and this one definitely was, Tiiran carefully did not look in that direction for too long, except to occasionally make sure Mattin was all right.
People kept trying to chat with him. Mattin, focused solely on the music, didn’t seem to notice.
The music was mostly songs about Arden Canamorra, as far as Tiiran could tell. Some he’d heard before. Some very new.
