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The Merchant's Love

Page 27

by Antonia Aquilante


  “How are you, Mother?” Tristan asked as he sat beside Etan on the couch. Tristan handed Bria a little toy, which looked to Maxen like a squirrel. What an odd choice. It reminded Maxen of Faelen sitting in the park feeding the squirrels. He smiled slightly at the memory. Selene shot him a questioning look, but he only patted her on the shoulder and took a chair. He certainly wasn’t sharing that silly, sweet little memory now, even if it did make a pleasant picture for him to dwell on.

  “As ever,” Mother said in answer to Tristan’s question. “I don’t see my granddaughter often enough.”

  For a moment, the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and Bria’s giggles as she played. Mother seemed to realize that Tristan wasn’t going to reply and frowned, but then rallied and continued. “How was the ball last night? I assume it was a splendid affair?”

  “It fit the celebration of a royal anniversary,” Etan said, though more of his attention seemed to be on Bria. “I think Amory might have preferred something smaller, but the court enjoyed it.”

  Mother huffed, choosing apparently not to share in the gentle joke in Etan’s words even though she’d known Amory and his quieter personality since he was a child. “An event like that needed to be large and grand. I’d hoped Maxen would bring Selene with him. She’s at the age when she needs to be more social to find a good match.”

  Tristan’s lips flattened into a straight line. “If Selene wants to make a match, we’ll do all we can to make sure she has every opportunity to meet people—of which there are many here in the city—but you can’t invite her or yourself to a royal ball. It isn’t respectful.”

  “Maxen went. You’re a member of the royal family yourself. I don’t see why Selene couldn’t go.”

  “Maxen was invited by a friend.” If Tristan hesitated over the word, it was so brief that likely no one else noticed. “And I won’t trade on my relationship with Amory. I married into the family recently, and they have no obligation to invite anyone I suggest to a ball or anything else.”

  Tristan wouldn’t be taking advantage of anything to ask Amory for an invitation for Selene, though Maxen was quite certain Tristan would feel as if he was.

  “You would hurt your sister’s chances—”

  “I’m not hurting Selene’s chances of anything.” Tristan glanced at Selene before looking back to Mother. His tone was mild but underlaid with steel. “But what you’re doing will only get you in trouble if you keep pushing. Selene will be fine.”

  “I don’t see how she will when you don’t allow us to try to find her a noble match. Maybe even a royal one. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

  “What would be lovely is for Selene to be happy.” Tristan’s gaze never wavered from Mother. “If she truly wants to meet people outside of those you socialize with here in the city, Etan’s youngest sister has agreed to meet her and, if they get along, to introduce her to some other young people among the nobility. But I won’t force either of them to spend time with each other if they don’t get along. I couldn’t force Meriall to do anything if I tried to.”

  “Selene is a sweet girl who gets along with everyone, don’t you, dear?” Mother turned her gaze on Selene who nodded quickly. “You’d like to meet Etan’s sister, wouldn’t you?”

  “I believe we met briefly at the wedding,” Selene said.

  “Once you spend some time together, I’m sure you’ll be fast friends.”

  There was a gleam in Mother’s eye at the thought of her daughter being close to the sister of a royal duke and all the doors it would open for them. Seeing it brought an almost unbearable sadness to Maxen. How had she turned into this person? Had she always been this way? Or had her grief over Father’s death brought her to this point? Maxen still mourned Father bitterly, but he mourned Mother sometimes as much.

  “We’re not going to talk about it anymore today. It isn’t the time,” Tristan said before Mother could elaborate on why Selene and Meriall should be made to be friends. “Let’s just enjoy the holiday.”

  “Of course,” Mother said with a smile that didn’t quite hide her annoyance at being thwarted.

  Could he and Tristan make this situation better? Maxen glanced to his younger brothers as they tried to shrink out of sight. They had to try.

  Bria chose that moment to fling her toy to the floor. Tristan and Etan both chuckled, and Maxen smiled. She seemed so pleased with herself too, as if she’d known they needed the distraction.

  Didier retrieved the toy and handed it back to Bria, smiling when she laughed and babbled at him. Etan thanked him, but before Didier could move, Bria held the little toy out to him. Didier grinned. “For me? Or do you just want me to play?”

  Seemingly unconcerned about his holiday clothes, he plopped himself down on the rug at Etan’s feet and began dancing the toy around while Bria clapped her hands. Maxen smiled to see Didier being so sweet with his niece.

  “Is that a squirrel?” Maxen asked Tristan at the same time Mother said, “Didier, get up from there. You don’t need to do that. Don’t bother Lord Etan.”

  “He’s fine,” Etan said. “Not bothering me, and Bria’s certainly enjoying herself.”

  “It is a squirrel,” Tristan said, laughter in his voice. “Faelen bought it for her. I don’t know where he found it. Probably the same place Etan finds all the stuffed toys that look like cats for Julien.”

  Maxen laughed. Of course, it had been Faelen. “Shall I ask Faelen for you?”

  Tristan let out a bright laugh. “No, let them have their secrets.”

  “Do you want me to have a maid take Bria?” Mother asked.

  Etan glanced at Tristan. “No, thank you. We’d rather have her with us.”

  Tristan and Etan were abnormal among many upper class and noble parents in that they took care of Bria themselves as much as they could. For many, babies were only brought out to be shown off and then sent back to the nursery, with older children beginning to make more appearances in the family’s social life. If they’d wanted to send Bria off with someone, they would have brought her nursemaid with them.

  “She’s behaving quite well for us. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” Tristan gave Bria a tickle, but even though she laughed, she didn’t seem willing to be distracted from her game with Didier. “We want her to spend the time with us as a family. We never have as much time with her as we’d like.”

  “Even if she’s ignoring us for a stuffed squirrel.” Etan’s face was as filled with fatherly affection and pride as Tristan’s, and Tristan put a hand on his shoulder. It warmed Maxen to see them together in their little family. Would Maxen and Faelen ever get to such a point? He hadn’t really thought about having his own family or the possibility of children. Or he had, but just in the hazy idea of someday after he traveled and saw the world, had some adventures. Now, he was starting to wonder about the future in relation to Faelen. Everything seemed to be shifting around, and he didn’t know how to make it stop. Or if he wanted to.

  After lunch, Maxen made his way across Jumelle to the tavern his friends had chosen. Despite the tension early on, the time with his family hadn’t been bad. He wasn’t deluded enough to think Mother would suddenly stop pushing them all as she had been, but at least today hadn’t been awful. Though Tristan and Etan had surprised her when they’d told everyone over lunch Etan would be adopting Bria.

  They’d left at the same time, Maxen to see his friends and Tristan, Etan, and Bria to see Etan’s mother before going back to the palace. “You should come up to the palace after,” Tristan said and grinned slyly. “If you aren’t too drunk to walk straight.”

  “When am I ever too drunk to walk straight?”

  Tristan shrugged innocently. “What do I know what you do when I’m not around?”

  Maxen could only roll his eyes. “I’m planning on seeing Faelen later.”

  “That’s convenient, since he lives at the palace.”

  He glared at his brother. Tristan had to know Maxen wanted some time alone with Faelen.

>   This time, Tristan rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know. But come anyway. Spend some time with all of us, including Bria and me, in a less stressful situation. We’re all going to have dinner. You can have Faelen to yourself after.”

  “Tristan…”

  “You’d be very welcome, Maxen,” Etan said and scrambled to keep a grip on Bria as she flung herself toward Maxen.

  He’d wavered some—after Etan had kept Bria from diving to the paving stones and Maxen had given her the requested hug—but they all knew he’d be there, even if he refused to commit himself. He wished he could think of an excuse not to. Was he ready to have a family dinner with the royal family? He’d eaten one formal dinner at the same table as Prince Philip, but the strict rules of court behavior had applied. What would happen at a more intimate family meal?

  The university quarter was quieter than usual with classes not in session and many students away for the holiday. The tavern was bustling, though, with what felt like everyone left in the neighborhood. Maxen stopped just inside and looked around, finally catching sight of Valentin at a table in the back corner. He made his way through the crowded room, threading through the people sitting and standing with smiles and murmured requests to excuse him.

  When he arrived at the table, Valentin jumped up and grabbed him in a hug. “Midwinter wishes, Maxen.”

  “And to you.”

  Amid greetings with the others at the table, Valentin found him a chair and squeezed it in beside his own, the table too small for the number of people crowded around it, though none of them seemed to mind. There were seven of them at a table better suited for four. Other than Valentin, three—Jaeme, Zora, and Nico—were friends of Maxen’s, and two were closer to those friends. Until Tristan’s wedding, he hadn’t realized Stefan and Vita also knew Etan.

  “I just saw Etan at my mother’s house. If I’d known you were going to be here, I’d have tried to lure him along.” Of course, Etan wouldn’t have been able to as he was headed to visit with his family next, but Stefan and Vita laughed anyway. Maxen settled in as everyone began talking again. The rest of the group had obviously been there a while already and were comfortably relaxed after a couple of drinks.

  A serving girl brought him a glass and deposited a new pitcher on the table, before taking the old one away with her. Maxen reached for it and poured himself a glass. He assumed it was mulled wine, but when he sipped, the burn of it told him it had been spiked with some kind of liquor. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be too drunk to go up to the palace.

  “You do have it bad, don’t you?” Valentin asked with a laugh.

  Maxen frowned. “What?”

  “That girl was pretty and giving you the eye.”

  “Oh. I didn’t notice.”

  Valentin laughed again. “I’m aware. Like I said.”

  Maxen rolled his eyes and refrained from replying. Even if he hadn’t noticed her prettiness in any particular way.

  “How is Lord Faelen? You could have brought him. We would have found room.” Valentin glanced around at the crowded table. “Somewhere.”

  “He’s fine. I’m seeing him later.”

  “And that meant you couldn’t bring him with you?”

  Maxen wished he could distract Valentin, but he’d always been tenacious, even when more than a little tipsy. “I came straight from Mother’s.”

  “You didn’t bring him there either?”

  “I didn’t want to subject him to her behavior when she found out I was involved with a member of the royal family. Best to save that for another day.”

  Valentin looked skeptical. “She doesn’t know?”

  “Not yet. I’ll tell her at some point. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

  Valentin’s eyebrows flew up. “You don’t? Because from where I’m sitting you don’t even look at anyone except him. You talk about him all the time. You write to him constantly—I don’t know if that’s adorable or strange. You always want to spend time with him. That tells me something. Am I wrong?”

  Maxen looked down into his glass, swirling the liquid around. “I…I don’t know. He did something, and we had an argument, which I think is resolved now. I guess I’m doing some thinking about the future and feeling a little off-balance.” He looked up at Valentin’s concerned face. “It’s fine. Let’s not talk about it now. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

  Valentin nodded after a moment. “But we will talk after the holiday.”

  “If you don’t get buried in your work.” Maxen grinned.

  “I won’t. You have me worried.”

  Maxen sobered, something inside him twisting at the expression of concern from his friend. “You don’t have to be.”

  “I’ll be whatever I want, thank you. I’ll come over after the holiday. We’ll have a quieter drink.”

  He sighed. “All right.”

  “Good. Now we can get back to the merrymaking.” Valentin gestured at his glass. “Drink your wine.”

  “I have no idea what’s in here, but it is not wine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Faelen was surprised when Etan told him Maxen would be joining them for dinner—and strangely excited. When Maxen hadn’t wanted to stay at the palace after the ball, he’d wondered if he wasn’t comfortable being around Faelen’s family, which was understandable when it included the crown prince. But he wasn’t sure what would happen if Maxen couldn’t accept them.

  He hoped dinner went well. He hoped Philip and Amory didn’t mind Maxen’s presence. They’d originally planned to spend the last few days of the holiday at Alzata, the estate Philip had given Amory and where they’d taken their extremely short wedding trip, just them and Julien, but they’d abruptly decided against it and invited everyone to dinner. Faelen had only found out about the plans when he’d returned to the palace late that the morning, and until he’d learned Maxen was coming, he’d been torn about where to spend the evening.

  His excitement tempted him to watch out a window for Maxen’s arrival, but none of his faced in the correct direction. And he didn’t want to take over a public room with a view of the gates just so he could run into Maxen’s arms—or, well, he wanted to, but he was trying to hold on to some level of dignity. Instead, he asked that Maxen be brought to his rooms so they could see each other in private before going to dinner together.

  “You look as if you’re going to vibrate right out of your skin,” Alexander said.

  Faelen jumped. He hadn’t realized Alexander was still in the suite. “I’m not.”

  “Didn’t you just see him this morning?”

  “I did, and I’ll be happy to see him tonight.” Which, yes, was probably out of proportion to the amount of time they’d been separated, but he wanted Maxen here, with him, with his family. In the home he was starting to build. Truth be told, he wanted to build that home with Maxen, but it wouldn’t do to think too hard about that right now.

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Faelen focused on his sharp-eyed twin. “What?”

  Alexander tilted his head to the side and smiled with a strange, indulgent affection. “You’re denying it?”

  He hesitated. “No. I wouldn’t be with him the way I am if I didn’t—I couldn’t. I’m not ready to tell Maxen yet.”

  “Well, I’m not planning on saying anything. He doesn’t know about our Talent, though?”

  “No, it’s not just mine to tell, is it?” But it niggled at him sometimes, keeping something so important from Maxen. He wanted Maxen to know. Then he could have told him about helping Savarin too—about how Faelen continued to have that odd, strong sense of the protection spells and how his Talent had seemed reluctant to let him change back. Faelen hadn’t even told Alexander, though his anxiety about it had him reluctant to use his Talent at all. So far, avoidance seemed the easiest, though probably not the best, solution.

  After a long moment of contemplation, Alexander only nodded. “I’m going to join the others. Unless you’d like company?”
>
  “No. Go. I’ll only annoy you.”

  “As if you could.” Alexander walked over and squeezed Faelen’s shoulder, kissing him on the cheek as he did.

  “Ha! I remember a few times when we managed to annoy each other terribly.”

  “But those weren’t important things.”

  “No, they weren’t.” The closest he’d come to real anger at Alexander had been when he’d crashed in on the outing with Maxen at the fair, and even then he understood why Alexander had done it. It had always been Alexander and Faelen facing the world together.

  Alexander disappeared out the suite doors, and Faelen almost immediately wanted to call him back, but he was just being silly. Faelen’s odd restlessness hardly called for hand-holding.

  When the knock on the door came, he was perilously close to jumping out of his skin, but he would never admit it to anyone.

  Faelen opened the door to reveal Maxen standing on the other side, the light from the corridor sconces glinting on his dark-gold hair. Faelen itched to run his hands into it, to see it shine, to feel the silky strands between his fingers. Instead, he smiled and stepped back. “Come in.”

  Once Maxen was in the room and had placed his coat over a chair, Faelen stretched up on his toes to kiss him lightly. Before he could sink back down, Maxen circled an arm around his waist, pulling him close. He buried his other hand in Faelen’s hair and brought their lips together again for a longer, deeper kiss. Faelen made a little sound that he would be embarrassed about if anyone but Maxen were there to hear, and clung tighter.

  When Maxen finally let him slip back down, there wasn’t a thought left in Faelen’s head that wasn’t of him. Faelen gripped both hands in the fine wool of Maxen’s jacket and concentrated on breathing when all he wanted was to kiss Maxen again, to keep kissing him, all night maybe. There was a reason they couldn’t do that, wasn’t there?

  Oh, yes, they had to have dinner with Faelen’s family.

 

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