by R. Cooper
Zeki moved his mouth but had difficulty making the words. “Your intended suitor should not be nearly so difficult,” he managed at last. “A relief for you, then. Though perhaps he is too calm?” The fire in Zeki’s chest made him say it, and scowl at a man who wasn’t there. “Maybe it’s the number of competitors that bothers him, and he wonders if he is the one you really want among so many better choices. You might show him some pity.” A man who would not risk his dignity for Theo if he thought he had a chance was not worth Theo. But Theo wanted him, so what else could Zeki say? “Perhaps… if you got him alone, and said, ‘So and so, I will accept you if you step forward.’”
Theo took a deep breath. “So, I should say, ‘Zeki, I will accept you if you step forward?’”
It was little more than a whisper.
“Excuse me,” Violet said meekly, then dashed from the room.
Zeki went still at Theo’s words, and the unfair, wonderful sound of them. “Yes,” he croaked. “Though not that exactly. Not with my name. No one would ever say that to me.”
Theo reached out but didn’t quite touch the last charm. “You believe it’s impossible for you?”
Zeki made himself look at Theo in all his warm, dusty loveliness. He deliberately thought of all the people Theo had let flirt with him when they were younger, and all of those lining up for the chance to court him now. He needed the reminder so he could be sensible.
“I was not much to look at even before the mistake that led to this.” He touched his cheek, the scar tissue that made that touch seem distant. “I am a witch, and I have a sharp tongue. I’m no fit match for anyone.” Certainly not for anyone like Theo. “But, perhaps someday, someone will knock at my door in the dead of night, and I will find myself with a secret lover.”
“Only a secret lover?” Theo asked, softly, unsurprised, as if this was something they had discussed when Zeki ate his dinners in the common room. As if, somehow, he knew Zeki needed him to be gentle about this.
“I will say yes,” Zeki informed him without emotion. “What other offers will I have? Only someone very lonely or very curious.”
“Zeki—”
“Don’t be kind,” Zeki cut him off harshly, then pulled in a deep breath. “You are kind by nature, which is all the more remarkable, because it’s all you have known and it has not spoiled you. It’s kept you giving instead of making you complacent or cruel. I am sorry for my cutting tone and angry words. You did not deserve them. You never have, and usually I am better at keeping them from you.”
“No one should make you a secret,” Theo argued hotly, ignoring the compliments.
Zeki ignored Theo’s interruption in return. “I suppose with all your admirers, you will not have much time to stop with me anymore while I eat my suppers. I’ll miss that.”
“Will you?” Theo’s tone stayed heated, and Zeki stared at Theo’s tiny frown in astonishment. “Yet I have sometimes gone a month without seeing you.”
Zeki, who had not wanted to be a nuisance, or too obvious, was more than a little confused. “You wanted me here more?”
“It has been years, Zeki.” Theo pronounced his name with frustrated pride. “How long was I supposed to wait?”
Zeki answered Theo’s frown with a heavy scowl. “You should not have had to.” His flat, angry statement seemed to take Theo aback. Zeki pushed out a breath and felt like a dragon, full of fire and jealousy. “You have a few years yet to consider marriage. I always thought… I foolishly thought you must not want to. That you were content as you were. I suppose I could not dream that someone like you would share my predicament.”
“Predicament?” Theo closed his eyes for several moments, leaving Zeki free to stare at him however he wished. But Zeki dropped his gaze the moment Theo opened his eyes again. Theo’s voice was soft once more. “What predicament?”
“I’m in your way, keeping you from working.” Zeki made a vague nod of apology and then looked around as though he had left something behind. The confidence charm had not been taken and it felt strange to see it unclaimed. “I should take my leave.”
“What did you mean, Zeki?” Theo stopped him by saying his name again, still frustrated, but also careful. Not wary. Just full of concern for Zeki and what his words might do to him. “Please tell me.”
“Must you have everything?” Zeki sighed at the flour on the counter, but he had no fires for this. He waved a hand, hoping to be vague. “I meant, to have a heart that wants. Even a hideous witch has a heart.”
“You are not hideous.” Theo did not raise his voice, but Zeki jumped, then stiffened at Theo’s following question. “What predicament, Zeki?”
Zeki had always thought he would do anything for Theo’s smile. But an upset, saddened Theo was far more powerful. He glanced around, though they were still alone, and told himself that Theo was too gentle to ever laugh at him.
“I warned you not to be kind. I can’t resist you when you are kind.” Zeki kept his gaze down, and curled his hand over the charm without picking it up. “I have loved you since before I brewed my first potion, I think.” He heard Theo’s sharp intake of breath but did not pause. “I didn’t realize it until later, although I had no chance, even then. A stranger to the town and in training to be a witch. Plain, for the most part. But I could imagine I did, dream about it. Then I made the mistake that led to this, and people say I am cursed, or will curse them, or they cannot look at me, so I stopped pretending the chance was there. But if you are to be married, then I should keep myself away. I want you to be happy, Theo. Take the last charm. Now you see a little of why he might need it, your shy suitor.”
He took his hand away and crossed his arms over his chest. He did not know where to look.
“He's not shy,” Theo said at last, not at all what Zeki had expected, if he had expected anything. “He’s bold and direct, even with the powerful. That’s why I was confused for so long. How I did not understand why he had not come to me with his heart. But it seems he thinks himself unworthy of what I believe will be a good match—such a good match. Because of this, he has not acted despite my preference for him. A glaring preference that everyone sees but him. Something that has made me, until now, someone no one thought they had a chance with, and so I was never approached openly like this, by so many.”
“I’ve noticed no preference for anyone,” Zeki pointed out, all but admitting that he sat and watched and stewed in envy.
In response, Theo grew softer. “I feed him more than what he pays for, and sit with him even when the kitchens need me. I serve him myself, when I can, for the pleasure of his company, and I look to his spot when he is not here and sigh so much that my family easily guessed. I stepped forward, but he did not meet me. I waited and waited but still he did not. I left my mark at the standing stone to tell him to come to me, and he did, but not to court me. Only to help me find another, the one he thinks I want. The one he thinks I deserve, even though it pains him to speak of it.”
Zeki’s rapidly beating heart wanted those words to mean what they could not mean. “Why are you telling me this?” he demanded weakly.
“Why have you never left your mark at the stone, Zeki?”
It was not fair for Theo to ask him that, too, after everything. “A healer without magic might have been accepted more, it’s true. But a powerful, angry creature with a face like mine and a habit of speaking his mind? Who would have me?”
“I would.”
Zeki’s eyes shot up to meet Theo’s. Theo dropped his shoulders and released a long, tense breath, but did not look away.
“You…” Zeki’s voice was hoarse when he could finally speak. “Theo, I am fearsome. I’m bitter and strange and mean.”
Theo reached out and took Zeki’s hand, then gently turned it over to put the confidence charm in his palm. Zeki barely felt its weight with Theo’s hands on him, as powerful as a river. “You’re not mean. Not to me, or Violet. Not to my family, or the children you help. Only to those who are mean to you.”
When the shivers from being touched left him, Zeki ached. “I’m still strange.”
“You’re lonely, with few to talk to,” Theo countered. He seemed to ache, too, sweeping his thumb restlessly over Zeki’s wrist. “I have admirers but only two friends outside of my family. You are one of them. Am I strange?”
“But you’re handsome,” Zeki protested in a whisper, unable to feel embarrassed with Theo’s bright eyes on him.
Theo slowly raised his other hand to put his palm to Zeki’s cheek. Zeki felt some pressure, some heat, but little else. Yet he ached again when he felt that pressure trace over his lips and then return to the arch of his cheekbone. If Theo left flour behind, Zeki did not care. No one ever touched him. No one had ever touched him like this.
“You are who I want,” Theo told him, honest and plain. “I will accept you if you step forward, Zeki.” He brushed his fingertips under Zeki’s chin, tender over the ridges of scars at his neck. “Or, if you left your mark at the stone, I would chase you. I have been chasing you already. But now you would know it.”
Zeki curled his fingers in, covering the charm and pressing the clay. The standing stone whispered in his ear. “People will say things,” he warned. But, of course, Theo must be aware of that. People might already be saying things, if Theo had been as obvious as he claimed. “I’m sorry I made you wait.”
He didn’t see why Theo had. Zeki didn’t say Theo’s name any special way, the way Theo said his. Zeki had given him charms for someone else instead of courting him properly. “I tried not to come here too often, so you wouldn’t guess how much I wanted to.” At this confession, Theo began to smile once more, so Zeki kept going. “Every time I see you again, it takes so much effort to look away and let you go. I felt like a dragon when I thought of you marrying someone else.”
Oh, he had made Theo’s eyes shine like that. He had been doing that, and had not realized, fool that he was.
Zeki was helpless for it, and he squeezed the charm in his fist to give him the courage to keep that light in Theo’s expression. “Theo,” he could not speak above a whisper. “Theo, I would accept you if you stepped forward. Of course, I would. I—you should not have had to chase me.”
Theo made a small sound, like a revelation, and leaned down to brush his lips over Zeki’s cheek. Zeki stopped breathing.
Theo made that sound again. “Now that you know, I think I will enjoy chasing you much more.”
“I don’t want to chase you,” Zeki blurted, reaching for Theo when he thought Theo might pull back. “I want to have you.”
Perhaps he was dragon, after all.
Theo’s slow smile was radiance itself. “If this is the power in just one of your charms, then I am lucky indeed to be courted by so strong a witch.”
No one could have resisted that smile, least of all Zeki. “I’ll make another and leave it at the stone,” he vowed rashly, and would have promised more if Theo hadn’t closed the last bit of distance between them to kiss him.
ZEKI LEFT one charm for an open heart and one charm for strength at the standing stone, pretending that the stone’s hums of satisfaction did not carry through the ground and his boots to leave him trembling with excitement… as well as some fear. This had to be a mistake. Zeki was a good healer and a strong witch, but even his gifts could not be enough.
The stone said otherwise, had possibly been saying so for years. Zeki would have put a hand to it if he hadn’t already been shaking with nerves and anticipation. He heard startled, confused whispers from the people around him even through the cloth of his hood. But he made his way through the streets until he was in front of the Greenleaf’s inn. The common room was still crowded, because word had not yet traveled to everyone in the village.
Zeki was not certain what that meant, despite having learned the feel of Theo’s lips on his yesterday, having discovered what a kiss was, and that there were different kinds of kisses, and the feel of Theo’s waist beneath his palms. He had even learned that Theo could mutter in a mean-spirited way when interrupted in the middle of kissing him.
Violet had been polite and apologetic, but nonetheless had reminded Theo of the food needing to be made. Zeki had left them to it, left in a panic, really, then spent another restless, terrified night worrying that he had dreamed it all. A cold bed was more torturous when he had hope someone—the one he loved—might want to share it. Yet he had finally fallen asleep to dreams of Theo and woken with a smile on his face.
Theo’s parents nodded to Zeki as he entered the inn and made for his usual spot, both of them again grinning wide enough to make Zeki feel as if he should blush. Theo’s other suitors still lined the counters, waiting for a glimpse of Theo. Zeki was hot all over again, sure that he was wrong. He had been spelled or was still asleep and dreaming that Theo wanted him.
But, without going to the counter or giving his order to Albert or one of the others, a plate of flatbread stuffed with vegetables and meat and another plate of sweets were placed in front of him.
Theo smiled at Zeki when Zeki looked up in astonishment, and though Zeki’s nervousness remained, that smile was enough to make Zeki pull a small posy of early flowers from his bag and hand it over. He did not have gifts to offer other than magic.
But Theo put the flowers on the table with the food and sat down next to Zeki, so close their knees bumped beneath the table. He wore Zeki’s charms on ribbons around his neck, and his eyes were shining, and that was all that mattered.
Three Masquerades
TU ONCE AGAIN fidgeted with his mask and the pins holding his hair in place. Longer hair on men had gone out of fashion some time ago. At least, among the upper classes. A fact which Tu, a simple bookseller, could not have been expected to know. But hopefully the crowd of nobles around him were too preoccupied with gossiping, drinking, and dancing to pay him any attention.
The fact that everyone, including Tu, was in costume, might have helped.
Tu’s hair, mostly black except for the strands of silver, was also kept out of his face by a half-circlet of wire, but allowed to hang from the back of his head. The half-circlet held two cat’s ears, designed to match the tight black silk of his borrowed evening suit as well as the felt tail attached to his breeches and the glittering black mask that concealed most of his face. The mask came with thin whiskers and a small, stubby cat nose.
Tu did not feel like a handsome, prowling tomcat. He felt like a commoner who did not belong at a masked ball for a prince, because indeed he did not. The one saving grace, aside from the mask that so far had spared him from too much scrutiny, was that he was not the only one who seemed out of place here.
He kept a watchful eye on a handsome, nervous, young man dressed as a dragonfly who seemed content to be a wallflower, while he avoided the eye of any nobles who might attempt to talk to him and pretended he wasn’t staring toward the dais where His Royal Highness, Prince David, heir to the throne, was in conversation with another one of his many potential suitors.
The Prince could not truly be considered in costume, although someone had painted a paper ruff yellow-gold and put it around his shoulders like a lion’s mane, and a simple golden mask rested over his eyes. Gold seemed warmer next to David’s sepia skin, as if David’s beauty made ornaments look prettier and not the other way around. This masked ball, the first of three to set off a series of events that were to lead to the Prince’s betrothal, was being held in David’s honor. He was the center of attention, unmistakable, even with the flick of a yellow felt tail behind him.
David was always composed in public, attempting to seem unaffected even when anyone who knew him could tell he was weary. He was not yet thirty, with eyes the same warm color as trees in the fall, and charming dimples that appeared whenever he smiled. He did not wear a crown tonight, which had delighted Tu’s very foolish heart. Tu hadn’t been sure he’d have been able to stand another reminder of who and what David was.
Tu should not even be here, would not be here if the La
dy Stephanie had not given him her invitation. She had no desire to marry David, and not only because everyone knew that Prince David had no interest in bringing any woman to his bed. She was a close enough friend to the Prince that she might even be aware of the true motivation for this flurry of parties, introductions, and courtships. But if she did, she was not saying.
Until this, the young prince had avoided all talk of marriage and been content to stay at University, furthering his studies. The entire country had been shocked by the announcement that Prince David would begin a search for a spouse. Even more intriguing was the declaration that the search would begin with three masked balls. Quite out of character for the famously studious prince.
Rumors were rampant. Truthfully, Tu was not certain how many at this ball had come to try to catch the Prince’s eye, and how many had come to observe and speculate. He hoped those after a royal marriage were also interested in David himself. He supposed princes did not usually get love matches, but someone kind and agreeable would suit David well, make an ideal partner for a life of duty and good works.
The thought sent a pain through Tu’s chest, which he ignored with the ease of familiarity. Tu had been lovesick fool for a long time, but he had known from the start that a political marriage was in David’s future. It was not Tu’s place to comment on anyone David might consider. If anything, he should entrust that duty to David’s best friend, the ever-outspoken Flor de Maga.
But months had passed since David had left the University, or at least, had vanished from the circles where Tu might have seen him. Tu had never been able to shake his worry over the Prince, even when the Prince had been trying hard to just be David, a student at the University and frequent visitor to both Mr. Tulip, Bookseller, and the salon of Lord Hyacinth, where Tu was also often found.
David was capable of being one of the greatest rulers their country would ever have, but he was sensitive, prone to overwork himself, and almost too bravely willing to put his heart on the line. He needed someone who knew him, who was strong enough to support him and not just the Prince through all the responsibilities that would be placed on him.
