But he didn’t ask why Tiiran had chosen to do it then. And Tiiran, glancing to him, still didn’t ask him about Orin.
He had no right, as Nikoly had said. Not to mention the fact that Orin might not have forgiven Tiiran for leaving him without a word. Or for failing to keep his promise to Orin as an erstwhile duckling to meet him for dinner, or any of the other promises he’d made.
Tiiran had been angry and hurt the first night, but after that, he had forgotten to eat better—without Nikoly’s interference—or even to take his hair down. Doing it now was perhaps foolish, but he hoped Orin would understand if Tiiran got to speak with him again.
Nikoly had the record book Tiiran had found for him tucked into a robe pocket, although he was heading into the capital and wouldn’t be reading anything that night. He said he had agreed to meet people, although Tiiran hadn’t demanded to know. Nikoly was oddly pleased by his stubborn refusal to, probably guessing everything Tiiran imagined about his activities from Tiiran’s expression.
“Rest,” he reminded Tiiran, crowding Tiiran into the door to his room yet waiting for Tiiran to stretch up to kiss him first.
“Yourest,” Tiiran muttered, immediately distracted by the feel of Nikoly beneath his hands, which Nikoly only encouraged by taking Tiiran’s wrists and dragging his hands beneath his robe.
“Tiiran,” Nikoly panted moments into their kiss, “whatever you think, I promise, it isn’t true. And if it was, if everyone in the capital found me attractive and I wanted to let every single one fuck me, all you would have to do is tell me no and I would do as you say.”
Tiiran froze, his lips pressed to Nikoly’s giving mouth. He inched back without pulling away, not that he could have gone far. Nikoly had trapped him well; he was cunning in a way the others would never suspect.
Especially not his others in the capital who couldn’t possibly have time to learn this side of him. But they were probably beautiful, and definitely experienced, ready lovers.
Tiiran’s anger slipped away.
“What if I can’t please you like they do?” he asked in a whisper, eyes shut.
“I think you can. But there, you won’t believe me.” Nikoly straightened. “You want to ask Orin, don’t you?”
“Orin or Po,” Tiiran glanced up, then closed his eyes again. “Who else could I ask?”
He felt Nikoly’s breath on his cheek a beat before he was kissed again. “Fearless with the most of arrogant of beat-of-fours but not for this?”
Tiiran shuddered and opened his eyes. “Look at how I was with Orin.”
Nikoly took a deep breath, then turned to watch himself stroke Tiiran’s hair. “Is that what you think Orin would say?”
“He’ll say I deserve to be punished for thinking it,” Tiiran answered with a hitch in his voice that Nikoly noticed, judging from how seriously he met Tiiran’s eyes.
“Then I think you should be, if it will make you feel better. He’s good at that, isn’t he? Making you feel better. He’s why you’re in sweeter moods some days. I wondered.”
That seemed presumptuous, even if there probablyhadbeen a noticeable difference in Tiiran’s attitude after he’d talked with Orin.
“He untangles me.” Tiiran did his best not to frown or look away. “But… you know how some people always make you feel worse about things? Maybe not on purpose, but they do? Or possibly that’s something you don’t know.”
“Some people are miserable and want others to be too,” Nikoly remarked, encouraging.
Tiiran exhaled through his nose. “Well, Orin has never even accidentally made me feel worse about myself, except when I think I’m not good enough for him. Which would make him angry if he knew that…. Although it’s Orin, so he probably knows anyway. He’ll talk forever about what he’s reading, so excited about things I can barely imagine.” Tiiran realized he was smiling about Orin’s enthusiasm for esoteric subjects but didn’t force it away. “And he allows me nearly anything, and—” Tiiran caught himself. “You don’t need to hear me go on about Orin.”
“Orin listened to me going on about you.” Nikoly trailed his fingers through Tiiran’s hair again. “How is it so curly and full of life that it looks as thick as my hair, and yet when I touch it, it feels as light as lace thread? Is that fae work?”
“Ask them.” Tiiran huffed. “And ask them why it cannot be controlled no matter how tightly I twist it.”
“If that were to happen, I’d ask them why they have touched you and if they mean you harm, although I don’t think they do. Not if they sent me and Elorin Vahti to you.”
Tiiran jolted, then glared up. “You take that back. They have nothing to do with this.”
“‘This?’”
Tiiran had pleased Nikoly again. He was glowing even in the evening light.
“Yes,” Tiiran insisted stubbornly to cover his embarrassment. “Whatever this is.”
“Thisis that you are courting me—which you told me, so do not deny it. Please don’t.” Nikoly went from teasing to begging. Then he was hopeful. “You are, aren’t you?I’mcourtingyou.” Tiiran gasped, belatedly aware of how true that was. Nikoly gave a small nod, reassured, if not satisfied. “And I am waiting only to swear myself to you—which makes you uncertain.” He grew serious, although his glow didn’t fade. “Thisis that you blush whenever Orin is mentioned, and—you say that I shine but you should see yourself when Orin is near. I went to speak to him out of concern for you,” Nikoly paused, then sighed, “and out of jealousy. Not jealousy like you feel, I think. Envy, maybe, that he’s learned what I haven’t. That you touched him so easily.” Tiiran had not touched Orin easily but didn’t get himself together enough to say so. “He is cautious in revealing all of his feelings, understandably, with the life he leads. But he softens for you. It’s,” Nikoly paused, tone turning wistful, “adorable, how much he cares for you. I believe he would indulge your every whim if he could, and gut me if I hurt you. What else could I do but approve of him, and even envy you a bit for capturing him as completely as you have? But then, I understand him there too, although I don’t want from you what he wants from you, not entirely.”
