Griffen was nowhere near as circumspect as Etan in his relationships, but he did generally remain on friendly terms with the men and women he dallied with. Bastien didn’t understand his social, outgoing brother—either his affairs or his desire to travel—but so far Etan couldn’t find fault with Griffen’s reasoning in the situation in which he’d found himself.
“And then what?” Philip asked.
Griffen shrugged, the sheepish look leaving his face to be replaced by a trace of confusion. “I turned him down. I thought I’d been polite enough, but maybe I wasn’t as careful as I should have been. The next thing I know, everything has blown up, and everyone is saying I made unwanted advances toward the prince. I didn’t, I promise you. It was all him.”
Philip sighed and waved Griffen into a chair. “I know it was, and the ambassador does too. I think the king and queen of Kavalas do as well. But you see why you had to be sent home?”
Griffen slumped into the chair. “I do. Everyone needed to save face, and we needed to defuse the situation. I do understand. I just don’t like it.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“It was my first posting.” Griffin’s words were tinged with a disappointment that had to hide a more profound dejection.
“You’ll have another,” Philip said. “There aren’t going to be serious consequences from this. We’ll let it blow over for a while and put you to work here in Jumelle. Then we’ll find a place for you.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate your trust and your faith in me. I won’t fail you.”
“Good.”
“Now I just have to survive Bastien.”
Etan and Philip both chuckled. Amory frowned a bit, but Philip took his hand and brought it to his lips for a brief kiss of reassurance. Amory didn’t know Bastien well, and knew Griffen only slightly better. Griffen wouldn’t be happy with Bastien’s lectures, but he wouldn’t be in any danger either. “I can’t help you with that, but you’ll survive. And if you need to escape, you know you’re welcome up here.”
“We’d love to see you while you’re here,” Etan said now that the serious portion of the discussion seemed to be over.
Griffen flashed him a smile, mostly friendly but with an edge of flirtation. Etan ignored the flirtation, used to Griffen’s ways after years of knowing him. There had been a time when he’d considered starting something with Griffen, but as much as they were friendly and had some fun flirting with each other, there wasn’t much else there. Nothing that could sustain an affair past a night or two.
“Thank you, Etan. If I had to be sent home, at least I’ll have the chance to see everyone. I’ve missed you all.”
“Even with all the wonders you were seeing?” Etan teased.
“Even then, though Kavalas was wonderful. Such a beautiful place!” Griffen’s eyes sparkled, his face lighting up with excitement. His enthusiasm always had given a face that was already handsome a quality that made it difficult for others to look away.
“We’ll look forward to hearing about it soon,” Etan said.
“Yes, in something more than your official reports.” Philip smiled at Griffen, firmly back to the role of cousin more than prince.
“I’ll be happy to tell you all about it, but I’ll warn you, you may have trouble getting me to stop talking once I start.” Griffen said it with a joking lilt, but knowing Griffen as he did, Etan knew that was exactly what would happen.
Chapter 3
SOMEHOW HEARING about Griffen’s time in Kavalas soon turned into dinner that night. Philip and Amory had another engagement and promised to have Griffen up to the palace for dinner soon, but Griffen talked Etan into meeting him that evening for a meal. Etan was committed to attending an early lecture at the university the next morning and had a full day of commitments afterward but allowed himself to be persuaded into having dinner, with Griffen’s assurance that they wouldn’t make it a late night.
Griffen had asked about Cathal joining them, and Etan had promised to mention it. He almost didn’t after a tense meeting with Marcus and Cathal that afternoon about rumors of more spies from Ardunn in Jumelle, but maybe a distraction would help both of them. “I’m having dinner with Griffen tonight. Would you and Flavian like to join us?” he asked once they were alone in their office.
“Flavian and I are having dinner with Mother tonight,” Cathal said, still frowning at his notes from their meeting.
“That’s right.” Flavian had mentioned that he and Cathal were to dine with Mother, Meriall, Ottilie, Isaline, and Isaline’s husband that night. Relations between Etan and Cathal and their mother remained tense since Father had been forced to give up the title to Cathal and retire to one of the family estates in the countryside in what amounted to house arrest. Mother, who had always been so gentle and easygoing, was finding it difficult to adjust to the new state of affairs and to accept that Father was at fault. Etan could only be grateful that was all the punishment Father received—by all rights, Philip and Amory could have handed down much harsher consequences for Father’s actions. It was only the familial relationship and that the situation didn’t turn out worse that kept Father from more severe punishment.
“I’d hoped you might join us,” Cathal said. “A little extra help smoothing the way with Mother.”
“Vrai would be a better choice for that.” He felt a bit guilty for deserting Cathal, especially with how tense Cathal was following their meeting. But Etan’s own presence wouldn’t have helped much with their mother. Vrai’s presence was what was needed. Vrai had no position in Philip’s government and no part in Philip’s decisions about Father’s fate last year, which made him a much more neutral party in their mother’s eyes. That Vrai trusted Philip implicitly and supported his decision wasn’t remarked upon in Mother’s household. But Vrai was out of Jumelle on estate business for Cathal. Cathal hadn’t given up his position in Philip’s government, nor his home in the palace, when he took the title, so Vrai stepped in to handle the bulk of the business of the dukedom. According to Cathal, Vrai was quite talented at it too.
Cathal sighed. “I know. We’ll muddle through. Go enjoy yourself with Griffen.”
“Are you certain? I can reschedule.” He hated the dejection in his brother’s eyes and continued to hope that their mother would come around.
“Don’t do that. Tell Griffen that I look forward to seeing him soon.”
He had taken Cathal at his word, perhaps too quickly. Guilt or no, Etan wasn’t upset to miss another awkward family dinner. He’d just met up with Griffen, and he was already having a better time than he would have had at Mother’s house. Cathal had Flavian with him anyway; he’d be fine.
Etan and Griffen met halfway between the palace and the house Bastien owned, which was most regularly used by Bastien and Griffen’s brother, Mathis. Griffen greeted Etan with a smile and a hug, and they set off toward an eating house they both enjoyed.
“Have you seen Bastien yet?” Etan thought it best to get that question out of the way if he was going to ask it at all, and he felt he should.
Griffen’s expression went sheepish and he looked away. “No, not yet. He’s been at the horse fair, and I didn’t spend much time at home this afternoon. I looked up some friends instead.”
Etan laughed and shook his head, but he couldn’t blame Griffen. Giving Bastien time to cool off some was a good idea even if Griffen’s actions were born out of avoidance. “How is Mathis taking having you both in the house?”
It was Griffen’s turn to laugh. “Poor man. He’d gotten so used to having the house to himself, and in one day, we’re both there. This morning was trying for him. He ran off to the university library, and I don’t think he’s been home since.”
Etan joined his laughter. “I’m sure he’ll be fine once things settle down, and you know Bastien won’t stay forever.”
“No, he’s far too attached to his land and his horses to stay in the city longer than he has to. He’ll go back at the end of the fair, and M
athis and I will get used to living together again, at least until I get sent somewhere else.” Griffen bit his lip.
“You will. Your career in diplomacy isn’t over because of this one incident. Give it time.”
“I know. I will. It’s just difficult to—” Griffen broke off and smiled. “Tristan!”
A zing of shock went through Etan at the name, but it couldn’t be the Tristan he knew, had to be a different person. He turned in the direction Griffen looked, and, yes, it was his Tristan—well, not his, never his. He couldn’t think of Tristan as his. Tristan turned too at the sound of his name, the lines of fatigue and stress on his face smoothing out into surprise. Etan had only seen Tristan a few times since his wife died, and the sober mourning clothes Tristan wore still surprised him.
“Griffen.” Tristan met Griffen in a backslapping hug. “I didn’t know you were in Jumelle. I thought you were out of the country. Kavalas, wasn’t it?”
“It was, but long story.” Griffen waved his hand, glossing over something that had caused him a lot of anxiety, and probably still did. Etan would have been amused at his nonchalance if not for his discomfort at Tristan’s presence and his annoyance at himself for it—he should be done with these feelings. Griffen continued speaking, “I got back last night. I just heard about your wife. My condolences.”
“Thank you.” Tristan looked at Etan. “Good evening, Etan.”
“Good evening.”
“Oh, you two know each other? That’s good. I feel less bad that I didn’t introduce you immediately,” Griffen said glancing from Tristan to Etan.
“Yes. We’ve known each other awhile,” Tristan said, still looking at Etan. He finally looked away to smile at Griffen, and Etan took a deep breath. “Through Prince Amory.”
“Of course. I should have realized.”
“No reason for you to make the connection,” Etan said lightly with a slight smile of his own. He would not let this conversation be awkward. “I had no idea you and Tristan were acquainted.”
“We had a class or two together at university and overlapping circles,” Griffen said with a glance at Tristan. “Ran into each other a few times since.”
“Not for a while of course,” Tristan added. “We’ll have to catch up. You can tell me all about Kavalas. It wasn’t somewhere Father and I traveled on our trip.”
Etan knew what was coming, and he had no way of preventing it. He almost cringed as Griffen spoke, “I was going to bore Etan with stories of Kavalas over dinner. Why don’t you join us?”
“Oh, I couldn’t intrude,” Tristan said. “And I should go home. I’m sure there’s still some work I should be doing.”
“You can’t work all the time. Just have dinner with us. We won’t keep you too late,” Griffen said and kept telling Tristan why he should go with them, but Etan paid little attention after the beginning. He was too busy studying Tristan. He’d heard Amory say how worried he was about Tristan more than once in the weeks since Dariela died, how he thought Tristan might be taking on too much to his own detriment. Etan struggled with wanting to help and knowing he needed to stay away from Tristan for his own sanity. He couldn’t let himself care for Tristan; he couldn’t let himself be hurt again.
But Etan could plainly see what Amory was worried about today. He’d seen the fatigue, the anxiety before Tristan covered it with politeness and pleasure at seeing an old friend. And Etan just couldn’t help himself.
“Yes, join us. I’m sure we’ll enjoy ourselves with Griffen’s stories to entertain us,” Etan said when Griffen paused for breath. He immediately kicked himself for making the invitation, but Tristan might still refuse.
Tristan looked at him for a moment, as if he was weighing something, and then nodded. “Thank you. I’d love to join you both for dinner.”
Etan’s stomach sank, and he hated himself for the reaction. He couldn’t avoid Tristan forever, not with Tristan and Amory as close as they were. Tristan obviously hadn’t felt the same as Etan anyway, so Etan should be over his feelings, should be over the pain. But seeing Tristan still hurt. Yet he couldn’t force himself to walk away from Tristan when Etan could see that Amory was right about the state he was in.
Griffen had no such conflict. “Wonderful!”
They began walking again, Etan and Tristan flanking Griffen. Griffen’s vocal enthusiasm for Tournai’s food, which he professed to miss most of all while he was gone, buoyed them along.
“I hope Bria is well,” Etan said to Tristan after a while.
“Yes, thank you. She’s well and growing every day.” Tristan’s smile held more than a little pride.
Etan had only seen Bria the one time, but Adeline was almost as full of praise for Tristan’s baby as she was for her own. Amory must have seen her as well, but he was far more circumspect in how often he mentioned Tristan in front of Etan. Etan wasn’t certain whether he should be grateful for the consideration or annoyed that Amory thought he needed to be coddled.
“And your family? I trust everyone is well?”
The smile fell away, and Tristan looked tired for an instant before that expression cleared as well. “Very well. And yours?”
Tristan had probably heard about some of his family’s troubles from Amory, or perhaps not—Amory was nothing if not discreet. At one time, Etan would have poured out all of his worries and frustrations at his family’s situation to Tristan. Part of him still very much wanted to, ached to tell Tristan his worries and feel better just for the telling.
“They’re well. Thank you.”
Griffen was looking at them as if something quite wrong was going on, and Etan couldn’t blame him. For people who were supposed to be acquainted, he and Tristan had no ability to make easy conversation. Etan couldn’t imagine what Griffen was thinking about them, but Griffen didn’t know their history and Etan had no intention of enlightening him. Arrival at the eating house saved them from more excruciating attempts at conversation.
A question about Kavalas set Griffen talking as soon as they sat at a table. That conversation carried them through the entirety of dinner and staved off further awkwardness. And Etan was interested in what Griffen had to say too. He’d never left Tournai and wasn’t likely to, but he wanted to know everything about other places. Kavalas sounded so different, a kingdom made up almost entirely of islands; he couldn’t help but be fascinated.
He and Tristan peppered Griffen with questions throughout the meal. Etan hung on Griffen’s descriptions of the places he’d been, the people he’d met, the food he’d eaten, but most especially the customs of Kavalas and its stories and history. What Griffen knew of the latter, anyway. He’d studied the kingdom’s background and history before he left for Kavalas, but history wasn’t Griffen’s main interest and he hadn’t picked up quite as much as Etan might have hoped. Griffen was keenly interested in the customs of different cultures, including some legends and folklore, though, so he was able to indulge Etan’s curiosity there.
Etan was so interested in the conversation that he lingered far longer than he’d planned with Griffen, especially after Tristan had joined them. He hardly noticed the passage of time through dinner into dessert and even drinks after. He also didn’t notice for quite a while the little looks Griffen and Tristan were exchanging—quick glances made of flirtation and interest. Those looks were familiar—he’d seen Griffen casting them at others over the years, and he’d experienced them from Tristan himself. He’d seen something earlier, something when Tristan first saw Griffen, that made him wonder if there had been more between Griffen and Tristan than a friendly acquaintance, but he’d dismissed it just as quickly as unfounded. He wasn’t so sure anymore.
And when Griffen touched Tristan’s arm, a fleeting touch while he told Tristan why he was now back in Tournai, Etan knew. The wine loosened Griffen’s tongue just a bit, and he made the story sound much more comical than Griffen had to feel it was. But Etan barely paid attention to how he told the story; his attention was caught by that one little touch. I
t was already long over, but Etan couldn’t stop thinking about it and what it meant. Griffen leaned into Tristan while he spoke, and Tristan responded with much of the same, while shooting little glances Etan’s way every so often.
Were Tristan and Griffen going to end up in bed together tonight?
Far too many signs pointed to it being a distinct possibility, and Etan could not sit and watch it happen. However much he told himself he didn’t love Tristan anymore, that he didn’t want anything with Tristan anymore, he still couldn’t watch Tristan leave with another man. He could admit that, had to—or do himself further damage.
A second brief touch, this time from Tristan as he laughed at something Griffen said. Etan had always loved Tristan’s laugh. Tristan was so serious about his studies and his work for his father, but he was happy too, and he liked to enjoy himself and that laugh was clear as a bell and beautiful. And tonight, it was directed at Griffen.
Etan tossed back the last swallow of his wine and pushed his chair back. At the movement, Tristan and Griffen both looked his way. Griffen looked almost surprised and then a little confused. Etan would bet money he’d forgotten Etan was even there.
“Etan?” Tristan asked. “Something wrong?”
Something was wrong, but it was his fault, not Tristan’s or Griffen’s, and he certainly wasn’t going to share it with either of them. “Not at all, but I need to get back to the palace. I have a busy day tomorrow, and it starts far too early.”
Griffen glanced toward the windows and the dark alleviated only by the steady glow of magically charged light globes in the streetlights. “Oh, we have been here a while, haven’t we? We can go. I’ll walk back with you.”
Etan almost smiled at Griffen’s words, so obviously reluctant, but he bit it back. The smile wouldn’t have been anything but bitter anyway. He waved at them to remain seated. “No, stay. You’re enjoying yourselves, and I don’t need you to walk me home, Griff. I know the way.”
The Scholar's Heart (Chronicles of Tournai Book 3) Page 5
