He ate without tasting a bite, drank some water, then debated a bath before changing his clothes. He might feel well enough after that to go to work.
He didn’t even make it to the bath. His night on the bench hadn’t given him the illness, but it hadn’t helped. Not eating had likely not helped either, but Tiiran could chastise himself over it and didn’t need anyone else to, no matter what promises he’d made in a game that no longer mattered.
So he climbed back into his bed to attempt to do some reading and wound up staring at his ceiling as the light faded, not bothering to light a candle.
He was moping, a new experience for him and one he felt too old for despite being a few years past twenty. Assistants did that on the rare occasion their sport turned into affairs with feelings and those feelings became too much for them; they moped. He wasn’t sure how to do it, but from what he’d seen, it mostly involved them running around searching for new lovers. Which he would never do since this whole mess had proved how he wasn’t suited to that. Lanth had been a stronger person than him, smarter about these things.
In the dark, hungry again, sniffling madly, he wondered if Orin had returned today as he’d said he might, and then if he and Nikoly had gone out to the capital together. Maybe they hadn’t left each other the night before. Maybe they had and nothing had happened, and Tiiran was acting foolishly, like the green assistant he had once been.
He’d find out tomorrow unless he stayed in bed another day, half longing for his sneezing fits to grow into a real illness to keep him away. Although he knew he’d show up to the library anyway, snuffles or no snuffles. There was work that needed to be done, and the library was all he had.
Chapter Twelve
“Do you know how hard it is to keep Nikoly away from you, especially once he heard you were sick?” was the first thing Po said to Tiiran the next morning. She put her wrist to Tiiran’s forehead only to skitter back when he sneezed. Her expression stayed serious. “Whatever you feel, whatever actually happened, I suggest you talk to him. Maybe tomorrow if you feel better then.”
“If Nikoly will let him wait that long,” Amie added pleasantly.
“Why would Nikoly…?” Tiiran started to ask, then caught himself. Well, he sneezed again, officially destroying the last dry spot on his one and only handkerchief. Which of course was the moment the library doors opened and Nikoly walked in, saw Tiiran, and made directly for him with a shockingly stern look on his face and his head down as if he was ready for a fight.
Amie and Po melted away, Po offering something about opening curtains upstairs and yet staying within shouting distance that Tiiran waved off.
He lowered his gaze to the pile of requests on the desk in front of him—no responses from any Master Keepers yet—and was grateful the stool was there to hold him up because he was still unsteady. He had nowhere to hide his soggy handkerchief.
Nikoly stopped in front of the desk, very close, and Tiiran tensed, shoulders probably up to his ears again.
“Honeybee,” Nikoly murmured, as worried as Tiiran had imagined, which told Tiiran that he must look like a dead donkey’s ass. When Tiiran didn’t speak, Nikoly leaned forward. “Have you eaten?” A question Tiiran was tired of hearing because the answer was obviouslyno. “Would you like tea?” Nikoly asked next, coming in close to study Tiiran from the tight knot of his hair to the top half of his robe, which had not recovered from his night outside, probably pausing to linger on Tiiran’s red nose or watery eyes.
“I can get myself tea if I need any,” Tiiran lied, reasonably certain his legs wouldn’t carry him as far as the rest area.
Nikoly’s head went back. He frowned unhappily, then banished the frown to attempt a dazzling smile. “It’s no problem,” he said softly. “Or I could walk you to your room if you’d rather rest right now.”
“I’m going to do my copy work sitting down in one of the unused offices so no one catches this from me,” Tiiran informed him as testily as he could with a scratchy throat. He didn’t think he’d make it all the way up to the stairs to his usual hiding place on the third level. “You should stay here at the desk, unless you have something more important to do.”
Nikoly stared at him with sorrowful eyes.
Like a kicked dog, Tiiran thought, then remembered Orin calling Nikoly a pup and lowered his head.
You’re hurt, Orin would have told him gently.You have a soft heart, little cat. And your own foolishness bruised it.He doesn’t deserve your temper.
He didn’t. Tiiran also didn’t particularly feel like listening to Orin right now, even an imaginary Orin, but he did glance up again. “It’s just the snuffles.”
“There is nothing more important,” Nikoly said in reply, so confusing that Tiiran stared at him, eyes tearing up while he grew more and more bewildered.
“What is?” Thinking while sick was always so difficult, and Nikoly was too handsome for early mornings.
“I’ll bring you food at least, before I begin here?” Nikoly asked, his tone tentative, but his upright posture and straight shoulders determined. It wasn’t fair how much looking at him made Tiiran’s chest tight. He’d had a full day and two nights to mope. He should be over this. It was the snuffles tricking him, not all the feelings the fae would laugh at him for.
“I don’t have an appetite,” Tiiran informed him, honestly but snippily, then turned his head to sneeze four times in a row. His handkerchief useless, there was nothing to use as a shield but his sleeve. He shuddered, already dismayed to think about taking his robe to the laundry after he left the library and then working without it tomorrow since he had no replacement.
“What?” he snapped thickly after several moments of feeling disgusting while Nikoly stared at him and was handsome and kind and possibly pitying. The anger was sudden and hot. “I’m not Orin. I’m not going to tell you to sit.”
Nikoly dared to seem stunned. “Honeybee…”
“I’m not your honeybee.” Tiiran couldn’t snarl or hiss effectively with watery eyes but he didn’t care. He stood up and dropped from the stool, wobbling noticeably. “I am not a cat, or a duckling, or anything else. I’m just Tiiran, who is trying to get work done.” He pulled in a breath and didn’t like the tickle it created in his throat or how he croaked when he spoke again. “It’s not your fault you’re handsome. Or that you studied to be learned and interesting, and probably also to be charming, unless that’s natural, which it might be. You work hard even though you’re noble, and I appreciate that. But I don’t want to see you right now.” Tiiran’s lower lip seemed to be wobbling along with the rest of him. Nikoly’s wide-eyed expression was too much to take. “Thank you for trying to help, but I’m fine by myself and always have been. You shouldn’t worry about me.”
He made it about ten steps from the desk before he realized he was too tired to keep going. Perhaps one meal and a bun the day before had not been enough, and perhaps Po and Amie and Orin and Nikoly were right. It didn’t make it less infuriating… except Tiiran was too exhausted to be infuriated.
He stopped, genuinely considering curling up on the floor, and then Nikoly was next to him, speaking quietly.
