“I would like that.” Orin’s gaze was so clear and sharp that he undoubtedly saw Tiiran’s relief, though Tiiran tried to hide it. “As I would also like to sit with you and share the meal together. But we are not done no matter how you try to distract me. You’ve not been entirely honest with me, have you? There’s more.”
“Leydo used to enjoy finding disorganized messes and straightening them out too,” Tiiran muttered, as if he also didn’t enjoy setting chaos to rights. “But even Leydo got tired of them.”
“Leydo?” Orin prompted.
“One of those who left,” Tiiran explained quickly. “She apparently trained Nikoly—and badly at that.” Good riddance.
“Nikoly,” Orin said. Just that. As if Tiiran had said the name a lot and Orin had noted it and decided it was time to speak on it.
Tiiran stalked away from him, paced for three steps, then returned to stand in front of him.
“Must you notice everything?”
Orin huffed. “The others—myactualfriends in the Outguard, like to joke that they should create a position within the Outguard just for me. When there are situations and puzzles that cannot be handled by a regular guard with other places to visit, they should send me in to observe as you all say I do.”
“And ask your deliberate Orin questions?” Tiiran immediately guessed. “That would suit you.” He worked through the idea, already frowning. “Though it would also take you away for longer, wouldn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Orin answered with a shrug. “There’s no ruler likely to bother as things are now.” Orin’s tone said he would not be moved from the subject of the tangle inside Tiiran that Orin always seemed to see. “Why don’t you sit down—at the table if you need the space from me.”
“Clever Orin,” Tiiran breathed, stepping back toward the table but not pulling out a chair to sit.
“That’s what Arden always says,” Orin agreed, calm and measured, gaze steady and watchful. “Sit, Tiiran.”
Tiiran pulled out a chair without looking and sat.
“Thank you.” At least Orin appreciated that Tiiran wouldn’t have done that for anyone else. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“But I want to and you know it.” Tiiran was a wretched little beast. “But I don’t want to only be a problem to you. Should I go to the capital as the others do and learn there? Eat fried potatoes and drink cider while I watch…?” He cut himself off. Orin should have pressed, asked the obvious question. Tiiran sighed heavily when he did not. “What if you didn’t have to be gentle with me all the time? What if I were better?”
“Better?” Orin shook his head. “You are who you are, kitten, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like that. And I’m not alone there, am I?”
A smart ruler would use someone like Orin to seek out the eyes-and-ears acting as true spies and any other bad actors, though that might mean more danger for Orin. Tiiran distractedly considered the issue before taking a deep breath to answer Orin’s implied question. “I don’t know.”
Orin did not appear fazed by that. “Do you have things that need to get done before we take the time to talk about this?”
Tiiran crossed his arms. “If the others can take the time to fuck, I can certainly take the time to at least do this.”
Orin, still being gentle with him, didn’t call attention to Tiiran’sat least. “Tell me about your duckling.”
Tiiran dropped his head to consider the tacked and pinned hem of his robe. He bit his lip. Being held by Orin might have steadied him, but he didn’t think he deserved it. Which was a whole separate confusing feeling he didn’t want to ask about now because then Orin would wonder what Tiiran felt hediddeserve.
The heat stinging through his face and down his neck was not a surprise.
“I’m notsearchingfor ducklings or anything,” he insisted while Orin watched him blush. “Is there something else we can call them?” Distracted, he raised his head. “What do you normally call them?”
“Partners,” Orin returned, somehow not making Tiiran feel foolish for asking. “Bed partners often. Lovers as well, quite often.”
Tiiran wasn’t any of those. So those names would not do. He was hardly Orin’spartner. “Partner in what, anyway?” He grumbled as if he wasn’t genuinely curious.
“Partner in the games we play,” Orin answered, patient.
“Well, he’s not that. With me.” Tiiran forced out a laugh. “Obviously.”
“Obviously?” Orin’s expression was mild.
Tiiran studied him suspiciously. “I’m not like you. Patient and… and… commanding and knowing. I’m just…”
“Bossy?” Orin suggested. “Some like bossy. The particulars of how the game is played are up to the people playing it.”
