The Merchant's Love

by Antonia Aquilante

  “Maybe a little, but he’s an adult, a very intelligent one. If he’s less than experienced with these types of relationships, well, I was too once—I was also seen as weak by some because I wasn’t bold and brash, perhaps—and everything turned out pretty well, in my opinion.” Amory slid into Philip’s lap, winding his arms around his neck and smiling that sweet smile Philip had fallen in love with from the first moment he saw it.

  Yes, Amory had been a bit quiet, a bit unsure, after life with a horrible father and being dumped into a court he had no idea how to navigate. And, yes, it had turned out quite well.

  He looped his arms around Amory’s waist, keeping him right where he was, not that Amory seemed inclined to move. “I know. I just don’t want to see him hurt.”

  “I love you for that. And I know you have to protect our secrets. That’s on your shoulders—our shoulders, since I’ll always share your burdens—but you have to let Faelen figure out his feelings for Maxen, and Maxen’s for him, on his own. Well, ideally with Maxen, if they can manage to communicate properly.”

  Philip huffed out a laugh. “Easier said than done sometimes.”

  “True. We’ve never had a problem though, not really.” Amory kissed him, a light caress over his lips. “We can always give them a push toward thinking about it later if need be. For now, try not to worry. Faelen is trustworthy. He won’t tell anyone.”

  Philip sighed. “I know.”

  Amory smiled again, his eyes taking on a particular gleam, and leaned into him, their lips meeting in a long, sweet kiss. Philip let himself drown in it for a moment, let it pull him under, and reveled in it, a treasured indulgence, an act as necessary as breathing. They’d been married nearly three years. Would being with Amory always feel this way? He hoped so.

  They finally broke away with some reluctance—more than some, at least on Philip’s end. He would much rather spend the rest of the day kissing Amory than doing anything else. Amory seemed to want to be responsible, and really, they had to be. Though he couldn’t help indulging in a little fantasy of the two of them away from the palace and uninterrupted.

  Amory’s voice broke into the vision before it could fully form in Philip’s mind. “Is it wrong of me to hope we never find out if Savarin’s spell worked?”

  He kept his arms around Amory’s waist, keeping him in place for another few moments at least. “I’m hoping the same. Though it wouldn’t have to be a full-on attack, apparently, just someone trying to get through the spells.”

  “I’m hoping that doesn’t happen either.”

  “Me too.” Strengthening the spells on their borders would give them the capacity to safeguard Tournai that their original creators had envisioned. Of course, they only had the vaguest idea what that was, but hopefully, Etan and Faelen would find more as they worked their way through the oldest parts of the archive. “Savarin seems confident. We can only assume for the moment that this has worked, and let him continue on.”

  Amory nodded. “As much as we hate not knowing.”

  “Yes.” Was there a way of testing it? He’d have to talk to Savarin.

  “All right.” Amory sighed. “Time to get back to work.”

  Philip’s hold tightened when he tried to slip from Philip’s lap.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Amory laughed. “I can’t stay here all day, love. We both have meetings, and there’s a very tedious trade agreement to review.”

  “I think the trade agreement would be a lot more interesting if we reviewed it just like this.” He pressed a kiss to Amory’s jaw.

  Amory shook his head, but he was still laughing, and the action looked indulgent more than anything. Certainly, the love and affection in his eyes warmed Philip, as it always did. “You might be right about that. If we don’t distract ourselves terribly.”

  Well, that wouldn’t be so bad either.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You’re going to see Maxen again tonight?” Alexander asked as he leaned in the doorway of Faelen’s dressing room.

  Faelen met Alexander’s eyes in the reflection in the dressing table mirror. “I am. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Escorting Elodie to a dinner in the city.”

  “You know there are rumors about you two.” Faelen began searching through his jewelry box for the hair clip he wanted. “It’s odd.”

  “And, well, yuck. We’re first cousins. I don’t care that we’ve barely seen each other in a decade.” Alexander shook his head. “No.”

  “Marriage between cousins isn’t illegal, even if it isn’t appealing to me either. People will always talk, though.” He glanced up at Alexander again. “I’m only surprised they haven’t noticed your incredible lack of interest in women.”

  “People will talk, but they’re not always good at seeing what’s right in front of them.”

  “True.”

  “They’d talk about you too if you made even one appearance with Maxen at a court event.” Alexander folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He wore a loose white shirt over gray pants, and he was in stocking feet, not dressed yet for whatever dinner he and Elodie would be attending.

  “There’s a good reason not to.” He kept hunting through the case. Where was that clip? It should have been in the top compartment.

  “When will I get to meet him?”

  “Didn’t you meet him at Etan and Tristan’s wedding?”

  Alexander waved a hand dismissively. “A passing introduction at a wedding doesn’t count. Besides, he wasn’t kissing you back then.”

  Faelen frowned and turned in his chair to face Alexander. “Don’t go overprotective on me.”

  “It’s overprotective to want to meet the man my brother is spending his time kissing?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

  Alexander let out a little huff. “Maybe if you brought him to something, I could get to know him and I wouldn’t feel so protective of you.”

  “You don’t need to feel protective of me, you realize that, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do. I’m your twin, and you’re…”

  His frown deepened, but he forced irritation down. “I’m what?”

  Alexander sighed and shrugged. “You don’t go around kissing people—you’ve never wanted to! Forgive me if I worry the first time you get attached to someone.”

  “I never said I’d gotten attached to Maxen, whatever that means.”

  “But you have, or you wouldn’t be kissing him. I know you.” Alexander fixed him with a sharp stare.

  And Faelen had to admit that, yes, Alexander did know him. “Perhaps I have in some ways. It’s still no cause for you to be so suspicious.”

  “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

  Faelen sighed, his irritation draining away. “Thank you for that. But I’m an adult. If I get hurt, I’ll handle it. It’s a part of life.”

  “I don’t want it to be a part of yours.”

  There went the last of his annoyance. “I’d prefer it wasn’t either, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. I hope that isn’t the case now.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’ll think about bringing Maxen to something, if he wants, all right?”

  “I suppose it will have to do.”

  Faelen laughed a little. “I’ll take that. Now, have you seen my silver hair clip with the ivy pattern? I was thinking of wearing it.”

  Alexander bit his lip. “I borrowed it. I can find it for you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I should go before I’m late.” Faelen rose and crossed the room. He pulled Alexander into a brief hug. “I’ll see you later.”

  Faelen thought about Alexander’s words as he made his way into the city. Perhaps it would be nice for Maxen to spend some time with Faelen’s friends and family—which were really one and the same at this point. It might lay some of his family’s worries to rest, and Faelen would be happy to see people he cared about together. On the other hand, Faelen was enjoying his time with Maxen. It felt
like exploration, discovery. And a precious gift. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share, though he would ask Maxen. Just to see.

  Pia ushered him inside Maxen’s house, warm and welcoming after seeing Faelen so often. He liked that he was there enough that the maid knew him. These days, when he was left to wait in the parlor, he wasn’t uncomfortable. The cozy room felt familiar now.

  He poked at the fire a bit, but it was burning merrily, driving back the chill of the evening. Leaving it, he went to the liquor cabinet to pour himself and Maxen a drink. As he was setting the decanter down again, a pair of arms wound their way around him, and he jumped before he realized it was Maxen. He let himself melt back into Maxen’s arms, against his chest. It felt amazing; it felt…right. As if they’d been sharing these moments for years, as if they would continue to share them forever. The realization—thrilling and comfortable all at once—was intoxicating.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, yourself. Is one of those for me?”

  “Yes. I thought a drink before we go out.” Faelen turned in Maxen’s arms and offered him one of the glasses. When Maxen took it, Faelen curved his free hand around Maxen’s neck and drew him down into a kiss. “Now, that felt like a proper hello.”

  The words, bolder and more flirtatious than Faelen usually dared, came out in a husky whisper. Maxen smiled and kissed him again, a brief slide of lips that nevertheless shook Faelen. Would kisses always feel that way?

  “I like that greeting.” Maxen didn’t loosen the hold he had on Faelen’s waist, and Faelen didn’t want him to, didn’t want to loosen his grip on Maxen either, so they stood that way, holding on to each other with drinks in hand, smiling in a probably ridiculous way that Faelen wasn’t embarrassed about at all. He rather loved just where he was.

  “How would you feel about not going out?” Maxen asked after a few moments of idle conversation and light kisses.

  “Oh?” What did Maxen have in mind for them? Faelen loved being close to Maxen, the small touches and lingering kisses, but he wasn’t quite ready to go to bed with him, he didn’t think.

  “I enjoyed when we stayed in, and I read to you—I know you had a headache, so it probably wasn’t as enjoyable for you.”

  “Well, the headache wasn’t, but the rest was.”

  Maxen’s eyes lit with pleasure. “I asked Cook to make us dinner. Then I thought we could have a quiet evening in again, but if you’d like to go out, we can.”

  Something warm slid through him, sweeping his nerves away. He had no need to be anxious anyway—Maxen wouldn’t push him to do anything he didn’t want. “No, that sounds perfect.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  They sat down to dinner a little while later in the cozy, softly lit dining room. The food was delicious, not fancy but well prepared—the type of warm, filling food that seemed perfect on a chilly night. Faelen was glad Maxen hadn’t thought he needed fancy food. There was a place for it, but not every day, not for Faelen.

  “It was a good idea to stay in. And it’s gotten cold out anyway.”

  “It’s starting to feel like winter.” Maxen watched Faelen for a moment and then looked quickly away. “You could stay if you like, so you don’t have to go back out in the cold.”

  “Oh, I…” His mind blanked for an instant. “I don’t think I’m really ready to do that.”

  “Just to sleep, if you want.”

  He should have known Maxen would say that too. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that either.”

  “It’s up to you, Fae.”

  He fought the urge to glance away from Maxen, to hide. He’d told himself often that there was nothing wrong with not wanting to be with someone. His inexperience was nothing to be ashamed about. But it meant now, when he wanted to be with Maxen, when he thought it might matter so much, he was left a bit at sea. He hated the feeling.

  “I mean, not just yet anyway. All right?”

  “Of course.” Maxen reached across the table and took Faelen’s hand. “We can take our time, wait until we’re ready for whatever comes next.”

  Faelen wasn’t sure what to say, so he nodded and squeezed Maxen’s hand. Then he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to Maxen’s knuckles. His cheeks heated with a blush, but Maxen only smiled.

  After dinner, Pia brought out cake sticky with honey and studded with nuts. It was warm and sweet and as good as anything Faelen had found at the bakeries he’d discovered since returning to Jumelle. He savored each bite, trying to keep from making too many noises of pleasure. Maxen was already watching him in a way that made him blush—and made his body heat. Faelen loved the look in Maxen’s eyes, but it also made his nerves jangle. Not entirely in a bad way, but in an unfamiliar one he had to think about a little.

  They took their wine back to the parlor when they finished, and Faelen searched for something to say or do. “Read to me?”

  Maxen’s smile was startled but sweet. “Of course.”

  They settled on the couch, stretched out together, and Maxen opened the book. As he read, his hand found its way into Faelen’s hair. Faelen sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes. Maxen’s smooth voice washed over him. His heart beat under Faelen’s ear, and his fingers played in Faelen’s hair, soothing but also exciting. What would it feel like for Maxen to brush his hair, and would he think Faelen was silly for asking? If he asked.

  He let himself drift on sensation, on the sound and feel and scent of Maxen. He didn’t know how long Maxen read, and didn’t care. He wished it could last forever, this delightful warm, floating feeling.

  After a while, Maxen did stop, and Faelen jerked a little at the sudden, jarring silence.

  “Sorry,” Maxen whispered, stroking a hand over his hair. “Thought we might like more wine.”

  Faelen lifted his head, pleased when Maxen’s fingers remained tangled in his curls. Firelight played over Maxen’s skin and hair, glowing in the gold strands. His gaze—those vivid blue eyes that so often danced with laughter—was fixed on Faelen, heat simmering below the surface. Banked, because he respected Faelen’s wishes. Faelen lifted a hand to Maxen’s cheek—it was smooth; he must have shaved before Faelen arrived. Wanting to look his best for Faelen? Maxen closed his eyes briefly and turned to place a kiss on Faelen’s palm.

  Faelen shuddered at the contact. He didn’t think, just stretched up and kissed Maxen, putting all he had into the kiss even if he still wasn’t sure what he was doing. He enjoyed it, though, loved kissing Maxen. That connection he felt with Maxen changed everything, made his blood sing, made him crave these kisses. Made him crave more and consider when he might be ready to ask for it, to find out what Maxen might want from him and what he wanted of Maxen.

  For now, though, he sank into the kiss—a thrill of pleasure zipping through him when Maxen dropped the book to fold him in his arms and kiss him back. Maxen didn’t tried to take control. He gave and took, an equal participant, even as he let Faelen lead without objection.

  These kisses were drugging. Faelen could’ve sunk into them forever, but he fought past an intoxication that had nothing to do with the wine to speak. “This, tonight? Just this?”

  “Yes. This is amazing.” Maxen’s voice was breathless, and Faelen thrilled to that too.

  Book forgotten, they tangled together on the couch, exchanging kisses and holding each other close. Warm inside together.

  Over the next week, they spent quite a bit of time kissing. Maxen loved every minute of it. As brilliant as it was, Maxen still wanted more, but Faelen wasn’t ready yet, and Maxen respected his wishes. Being with someone, sharing that intimacy with someone, was only any good if it was freely given, freely shared.

  “Where are we going?” Thierry asked.

  “I just need to visit one shop since we’re going to pass by.” Maxen was walking Thierry home after an afternoon out together. “There it is.”

  “A jewelry shop?”

  “Yes, I need to look for a Midwinter gift.” He ushered Thierry inside.

 
; The shopkeeper came up to him immediately. “Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?”

  “Do you have any hair ornaments, especially combs? I’m looking for a gift.” This store made custom pieces, but Maxen doubted he had the time for that before the holiday.

  “One moment, sir.” The shopkeeper wasn’t gone more than that before he came back with a tray containing a glittering array of hair ornaments. He began explaining each piece but was called away almost immediately. Maxen accepted his apologies, happy to be left alone to look in peace. Well, as alone as he could be with Thierry hanging over his shoulder.

  Maxen picked up a little silver comb. “Hmm.”

  “Do you have a sweetheart? Is that who the gift is for?” Thierry piped up from behind him.

  “I…I suppose I do.” He hadn’t ever thought of Faelen in those terms.

  “Who is she, then?”

  He twisted to look at his brother. “His name is Faelen.”

  Thierry’s eyes went wide. “Then why are you looking at hair combs?”

  “Because he wears his hair long, and he likes them.” Maxen had noticed that when Faelen did something with his hair other than leaving it loose, he seemed to have a fondness for combs and clips with fanciful work to them, some made of silver that stood out in his rich dark hair.

  “Oh. All right.” Thierry turned to the tray and seemed to study it with interest. “What does he like? What is he like? You haven’t mentioned him.”

  “I suppose I haven’t.” Which seemed odd to him now that Thierry pointed it out. Faelen had become such a large part of his life, as a friend and now as a lover, but he hadn’t mentioned him to his brothers. “We met at Tristan’s wedding.”

  “Nobility, then. Unless he’s connected to Etan through the university. Did I meet him?” Thierry’s nose scrunched up as he frowned. Maxen fought a smile. The gesture was an adorable holdover from when Thierry was a very young child, but Thierry wasn’t at an age when being called adorable would go over well.

  “You may have. He’s Etan’s cousin.”

  “Royalty, Maxen?”