He’d never been to Savarin’s house, and he blinked in surprise at the sheer size of it when the carriage rattled to a stop in front of the imposing doors. The driver opened the carriage door, and Faelen climbed out with Alain in his arms. No sense in interrupting what was probably a much-needed nap.
A maid opened the door and schooled her features so well that she only revealed a flash of surprise.
“I’ve brought Master Alain home from his afternoon at the palace with Prince Julien. Perhaps you could call for his nursemaid?”
“Of course, my lord.” She gave a quick curtsy and hurried away, leaving him in the echoing entrance hall. If he didn’t live in the palace, and hadn’t had experience all his life in opulent buildings, he would be feeling very small at the moment.
“Lord Faelen?”
He looked up at Savarin’s voice. “Good afternoon, Master Savarin. Captain Loriot was delayed, and I offered to bring Alain home since I was on my way into the city.” He looked down at the child in his arms, gone boneless and heavy in sleep. “He fell asleep in the carriage.”
“It sounds as if he had a successful afternoon, then.” Savarin came down the stairs and took Alain from Faelen, balancing him easily. “Thank you for bringing him home.”
“It was no trouble.”
“I’ll get him upstairs so he can finish his nap in bed,” Savarin said, and Faelen was struck by the gentleness in his voice. He was more used to the sharp, driven sorcerer. This version—caring father—was far different and left Faelen off-balance.
“He must have been very tired.”
“I can imagine. Thank you again.” Savarin’s indulgent smile was another shock. “I’d like to speak with you about something I want to try with the protection spells and how you can help.”
“Me? Do you need research from the archive?”
Savarin shook his head and seemed about to explain, but then he looked down at Alain, who was somehow still asleep despite their talking and the jostling of Faelen carrying and passing him to Savarin. “May we speak tomorrow?”
“Of course. I’ll be at the palace most of the day.” He was curious, but he couldn’t keep Savarin standing there with Alain sleeping in his arms, probably feeling heavier by the second. “Have a good evening.”
A few moments later, he was back in the carriage and on his way to Maxen’s house. Savarin’s request had curiosity eating at Faelen, but he couldn’t fathom what help he could provide the sorcerer with a spell. Faelen was a linguist—and an archivist, he supposed, or at least an assistant one. Everything he’d done for Savarin so far had been research in the family archives that Savarin couldn’t access. But despite his curiosity, Faelen was going to have to put it aside until tomorrow.
Faelen laughed to himself. Alexander never would have been able to.
Despite some delay from congestion in the streets, Faelen still arrived at Maxen’s house before he was quite ready. He’d meant to think more about Amory’s advice. Faelen didn’t want to ignore his attraction to Maxen—it was new and strange and kind of unnerving, but wonderful too. He just wasn’t sure what would happen if he did have that talk with Maxen.
No matter the outcome—whether Maxen shared his attraction or not—things would change. Maxen would know how Faelen felt, and if he didn’t feel the same, how would their friendship survive? And if he did feel the same and it didn’t work, it would all be ruined anyway.
Perhaps it was better to just say nothing, to go on as he had before. But could he be near Maxen without this attraction? Somehow, instinctively, he knew it had developed because of his connection to Maxen. Now it was all bound up together. He wanted Maxen as a friend, but he wanted him as a lover too. Maybe as everything.
But maybe he should just let it lie for a little while longer. Think about it a little bit more, make sure these feelings were real. That would be the sensible thing to do.
The resolution to be sensible lasted until he saw Maxen’s smiling face.
Chapter Nine
“Faelen!” Maxen strode into the parlor. Pia had let Faelen in, and as always, he was waiting in the parlor. He could have come looking for Maxen, but that wasn’t how Faelen was. “Did I hear a carriage bring you?”
Faelen usually rode down from the palace or walked if they weren’t going to be out after dark. He stared at Maxen for a moment, an odd look on his face, and then seemed to shake himself out of whatever it was. “Hello, Maxen. Yes, I took a carriage today. I had to deliver Captain Loriot’s son home on my way.”
Maxen frowned. “The captain of the royal guard?”
“Yes. He has a little boy, who apparently plays with Julien sometimes. He’s an adorable child, and it wasn’t any trouble to take him home.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t. I just wondered. You don’t usually arrive by carriage.”
“Maybe I will as it gets colder. It’s beginning to feel like winter.” Faelen smiled. “Well, winter in Tournai, though I do hope the weather is good for the Midwinter festival. I barely had a chance to attend when we were here for Philip and Amory’s wedding. There were so many obligations we couldn’t get out of.”
Maxen stifled a laugh at Faelen’s disgruntled expression. He loved how expressive he could be. Faelen seemed to have perfected a demeanor around court that let no one see what he really felt. It was a gift to be allowed to see the real Faelen. “We’ll have to go this year, then.”
That odd look came over Faelen’s face again, and once again he seemed to force it away, this time with a smile. “I’d like that.”
It was the answer Maxen wanted, but he didn’t like the way Faelen looked before he gave it—had never seen that expression on Faelen’s face. “Is something wrong?”
Faelen’s eyes went wide. “What? No, what would be wrong?”
Maxen had to smile. “That wasn’t convincing.”
Faelen huffed out a laugh. “I suppose it wasn’t. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.” Maxen stopped himself. He couldn’t force Faelen to tell him anything. “If you want to.”
Faelen smiled softly. “Nothing is wrong, not really. I just realized something, and I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“What did you realize?” They were still standing in the middle of the parlor, and he suddenly felt awkward about it, along with some trepidation about whatever Faelen would say. Faelen hadn’t been so reticent to talk to him in a long time. “Can I help?”
Faelen just looked at him for a couple of moments and then took a breath. “I want to kiss you.”
Maxen froze. He wasn’t even sure he breathed for a moment. Had he heard what he thought he had? Had Faelen said…? He stared at Faelen, who looked as surprised as Maxen felt and just a bit dismayed. That was enough to help Maxen shake off his paralysis. “Faelen?”
“I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“But you meant it?”
“Yes.” It was a breath of sound, which became stronger. “Yes.”
Maxen watched him for another moment. “Then you should do it.”
Faelen drew in a sharp breath. “Maxen?”
“If you want to, you should kiss me.”
Faelen was utterly still as they stood in silence. Then he moved, slowly coming closer to Maxen. He reached out almost carefully and rested his hands on Maxen’s shoulders lightly and then more firmly. His hesitance did something to Maxen, a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite put name to, except for the sudden need to protect, but he stayed still, letting Faelen do as he would. Finally, Faelen stretched up and brushed his lips lightly over Maxen’s.
It was barely a kiss, but it was devastating nonetheless—and not just, it seemed, for Maxen. Faelen blinked up at him owlishly and bit his lip, a flush staining his ivory cheeks.
“Fae.” Maxen cupped Faelen’s cheek in his hand. “Are you all right?”
Faelen nodded. “Yes. I just…”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I want
to kiss you, but I’ve never—and I’ve never wanted…” He seemed to sag. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Fae, have you never kissed anyone before?” But that couldn’t be right. Faelen was wonderful, and beautiful, and a million other things that everyone seemed to notice. He had to have kissed someone.
The blush deepened, and Faelen hunched in further on himself, which would never do. Maxen drew him into a hug. Faelen shuddered and then relaxed against Maxen with a sigh. Maxen hesitated before stroking a hand over his hair. It was just as soft as he’d imagined, but he forced himself to stop; he wouldn’t go further than Faelen was comfortable with. And right now he didn’t know what Faelen was comfortable with.
“It’s all right if you haven’t. Not that you need me to tell you that. I’m just saying I don’t think badly of you if you haven’t.”
“I’ve been kissed. A couple of times,” Faelen said after a few moments of silence. “I’ve never kissed anyone myself, and I didn’t really want those kisses. I don’t mean they forced kisses on me, just that I said they could, but I wasn’t really attracted to them. I didn’t feel any desire to kiss them or do anything more.”
Faelen came to an abrupt halt, but Maxen easily got the implication of his statement. He hadn’t thought about what experience Faelen might have had. They hadn’t spoken of it, the same way they hadn’t spoken about Maxen’s history with men and women. He hadn’t let himself think too much about Faelen and kisses or anything else, because Maxen didn’t feel entitled to every detail of Faelen’s prior relationships.
“But you did want to kiss me?”
Faelen nodded against Maxen’s chest. “There was always this vague sense of something wrong before. The kisses did nothing for me. I didn’t want more of them. I didn’t know those men.” He paused, perhaps to gather his thoughts. A diplomat’s son knew how to choose his words, which made it more surprising that Faelen seemed to be stumbling so much. Had he tried to explain this to anyone before? Had he needed to? Finally, Faelen spoke again. “I don’t think I can be with someone unless I…care about them.”
Maxen didn’t miss the hesitance over the word. “Does that mean you care about me?”
Faelen moved, and Maxen loosened his arms, but he only leaned back enough to see Maxen’s face. He gazed at him for a moment, quietly, the look in his eyes unfathomable. “Yes, it means I care about you. And trust you. You’re probably my best friend, other than Alexander.”
“But, now, perhaps more than a friend.”
“More than friendly feelings anyway.”
Maxen nodded, because Faelen needed to see that he agreed. “So where do we go from here?”
Faelen bit his lip again. “Will you kiss me?”
Heat rushed through Maxen, but he pulled himself back. He wanted to kiss Faelen more than anything—wanted to do more than that—but he refused to push him for more than he might be ready for, and right now, Faelen was ready for kisses. “Yes, Fae.”
Faelen smiled. “I like that you call me that.”
Maxen slid a hand into Faelen’s hair, around the back of his head, cradling him as he gently pulled him close. He needed to be careful, needed to give Faelen that care. Maybe give it to himself now too at this start. Maxen hoped it would be a start, not just a kiss—hoped there would be more kisses, that there would be time for something else if they chose. Just that earlier brush of lips had Maxen certain he would crave hundreds more kisses with Faelen.
He bent his head and pressed his mouth to Faelen’s. Maxen moved slowly, caressing and teasing, seducing. Faelen’s hands slid over his shoulders and fisted in his tunic, holding on. When Maxen broke the kiss, he moved only far enough to rest his cheek against Faelen’s. They breathed together for a moment, Maxen allowing everything to settle over him. The world seemed to have slipped sideways in the last few minutes. Everything had changed. They could be something else, something in addition, because he wasn’t giving up Faelen for anything.
After a little while, Faelen loosened his grip but kept his hands on Maxen’s chest. He let out a soft sigh as he relaxed. Maxen wound his arms around him, gathering him close. Faelen’s slim body felt right in his arms, felt perfect against him. It was stunning how good it was just standing with him in his arms. It rocked him a bit, stole what breath he had left after the kiss—he’d been attracted to Faelen since they’d first met but hadn’t realized how strong his reaction would be when he held him…hadn’t thought he’d ever hold Faelen.
“How was that?” he whispered once he’d gotten his breath back.
Faelen laughed softly. “That was good. That was better than good.”
“Good enough to do again?”
Faelen’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling. “Yes, very much.”
Maxen laughed too. He was still laughing when he swooped down to kiss Faelen’s smiling lips. “What shall we do now?”
“I think we should go to dinner.”
It was what they’d planned to do tonight, before Faelen had asked Maxen to kiss him. Somehow, Maxen hadn’t expected that to remain their plan. “All right.”
Faelen lifted a hand to Maxen’s cheek. “I like the kissing. I’d like to do more of it—more than that at some point—but it’s the first time, and I think we should go have dinner and not get carried away.”
“I didn’t think—I wasn’t implying that we had to…”
“I know you weren’t. And I’m not opposed to more kissing. Lots more kissing. But dinner and a walk first.”
Maxen studied Faelen’s face but didn’t see any sign he was upset. “Dinner.”
They went to the same small eating house Maxen had taken Faelen to the first time they’d gone to dinner together. Faelen didn’t notice the chill of the wind on the walk there, didn’t notice anything except Maxen’s hand in his, the brush of their arms as they walked close together. He’d been so anxious talking to Maxen, trying to explain something he barely understood about himself, and then Maxen had kissed him and it had been lovely and right. He’d wanted to stay there in Maxen’s arms—unlike the few other times he’d been kissed and all he’d felt was awkward and unsure, knowing he should be feeling more but only wanting it to end.
Maxen’s kisses had left him giddy. All of it left him giddy. He was flying, everything inside him a swirling mix of joy, anticipation, and a bit of fear. He had the urge to bounce and dance down the street, and he barely restrained himself from skipping around Maxen like a child. He clung to Maxen’s hand instead and forced himself to walk sedately.
He’d never felt this way about another person in his whole life—had begun to think he never would, never could. He was trying to focus on the good, the exciting feel of Maxen’s kisses and his hand in Faelen’s, warm and reassuring even through their gloves. But being in Maxen’s arms was also overwhelming in a way he hadn’t expected. He needed a little time to let it all settle into his mind. He hoped a little time would do it.
Which was why they were going to dinner. By the time they got back, hopefully, he’d be steadier.
The small eating house was as crowded as it had been every time they’d come. Faelen had ceased to marvel at it, especially since the seafood was probably the best he’d ever had. He also no longer worried about what might be set in front of him, since it was all that good.
Malo greeted them when they came in, his sharp eyes taking in their linked hands immediately. A broad grin broke over his face, and he pulled them both into a hug. Faelen flailed a bit, but it was quick, over before he could think about what to do. Without a word, Malo led them to a tiny table near the window.
Wine arrived when they were barely seated, and Faelen took a long drink. Maxen looked as bewildered as Faelen felt, which made him feel better, and he laughed. Maxen looked at him sharply and then joined in his laughter. Faelen reached across the table and took Maxen’s hand again. “How was your day?”
They chatted idly until a young woman brought their food—a hearty fish stew that smelled amazing and
tasted even better, and warm, crusty bread. They didn’t stop talking throughout the meal, and the last of Faelen’s tension left him. Their kissing hadn’t made anything awkward between them. In fact, it almost felt as if a missing piece had slid right into place.
It was difficult to linger over dinner—Did the place even have a name? There wasn’t a sign anywhere—with the noise and the number of people always waiting for tables. They mopped up the last of the spicy broth with the bread, and left as soon as they’d finished. Bundled up against the cold night, they walked hand in hand toward Maxen’s house. They didn’t stop in at any of the taverns along the way. By mutual agreement, it seemed they wanted something else. Faelen did anyway—to be alone with Maxen somewhere quieter. But Maxen tugged him into a bakery that was still open and bought two pastries, swirled through with cinnamon and spices and topped with sweet sugary icing.
Faelen hadn’t thought he’d be hungry after the filling stew, but the pastry was warm and smelled delicious…perhaps he might have room for something sweet.
Outside, Maxen grinned and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I know how you love your sweets. Go ahead.”
Faelen blushed, even as a delightful shiver traveled through him from the place Maxen’s lips had been so briefly. He ducked his head, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face.
“All right, Fae?”
At Maxen’s concerned tone, Faelen looked up at him. He didn’t want Maxen concerned for him now. “Fine. Should we go?”
Maxen looked at him for another few breaths and then nodded. He held his hand out and Faelen put his in it, letting Maxen tangle their fingers together. He wished they didn’t have gloves on—wished he could feel the skin of Maxen’s palm slide against his own, as he had for a little while at the eating house. Having Maxen’s hand in his could easily become addictive.
They ate their pastry as they strolled back to Maxen’s house. Crowds of people pursuing their evening entertainments filled the well-lit streets, and Faelen was happy when they arrived at Maxen’s quieter neighborhood. Tonight, he just preferred to be with Maxen, not surrounded by a crush of merrymakers.
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