The Merchant's Love

by Antonia Aquilante

  At Meriall’s nod, he gathered her up carefully and set her down in the small space Faelen was able to make by curling himself even tighter.

  “We’ll have you out of there as quickly as we can,” Tristan said, his laughter gone. “But we need to close the box because we’re coming up on the gate.”

  The gate guards checked who was in the carriage, but paid no mind to the box once they saw Tristan and Maxen. The carriage stopped near a door in a small courtyard that Maxen had never seen. “I asked the driver to bring us here,” Tristan said before Maxen could worry too much. “It’s the closest we can get to where we need to go.”

  “Good.” The less time Faelen and Meriall spent in a cramped box the better.

  The driver helped them get the box out of the carriage and opened the door for them, but Tristan waved off his help from there. “I’m finally learning the twists and turns of this place,” he said as they walked as quickly as they could while trying to keep the box steady.

  “Don’t get us lost.” That was all they’d need.

  Tristan just rolled his eyes.

  But Tristan didn’t get them lost or turned around, or not that Maxen noticed anyway. He was out of breath and sweating by the time Tristan brought them to a halt near one of the guards. “Are Their Highnesses in their study?”

  “I don’t believe so, sir.”

  “Excellent. If you could open the door for us?”

  Maxen’s heart beat even harder, but the guard opened the door without question, which gave him some better idea of his brother’s position at court. The study was empty, and they set the box in the center of the dimly lit room. Tristan closed the door, and Maxen glanced around taking in the desks and the portrait of Amory, the prince, and Julien propped on the mantel. As soon as the door was shut, he ignored everything else and opened the box. Meriall hopped out immediately, Faelen following on her heels.

  Faelen stretched, his cat body impossibly long. Maxen’s blinked at the claws that briefly flashed, but Faelen sheathed them in an instant and was at his side, pressing against him. Maxen dropped to a knee and put his arms around Faelen’s neck, holding him close. His heart finally slowed from its galloping pace. The relief after the fear and the exertion had Maxen limp and leaning against Faelen in turn. Faelen didn’t seem to mind.

  “We should go in and see what’s happened,” Tristan said.

  Maxen straightened quickly and nodded. “Yes.”

  Tristan went to another door with Meriall following. He knocked lightly and then opened it. “It’s us. I brought Meriall, Faelen, and Maxen.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Maxen walked at Faelen’s side into what proved to be the princes’ sitting room. He’d assumed there was a reason Tristan had brought them where he had. Maxen walked closer to the group, and Faelen stayed beside him, for which Maxen was grateful. There were a lot of people in the sitting room, and some of them were cats.

  Amory sat on a couch with Julien sprawled asleep on one side of him and a huge dark cat on his other side. The prince? Maxen had to assume so, and that the other two equally large cats were Cathal and Etan, based on the fact that one was sitting close beside Flavian and Tristan had gone directly to the other. Two other men were there, one dark-haired and bearded and wearing the uniform of the royal guard and the other tall and handsome and dressed impeccably. Not members of the royal family as far as Maxen knew.

  “Alexander?” Faelen asked.

  “In your suite. We couldn’t figure out how to get him here unseen,” Flavian said. “Elodie is keeping him company.”

  Faelen looked back at the door, and Maxen put a hand to his back. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Let’s find out what’s going on, and then we’ll see about checking on him, all right?” Maxen only looked up after Faelen nodded. Everyone else was watching them. “Sorry.”

  Amory waved a hand, but the prince spoke. “Don’t worry about it. No one saw you coming here?”

  “We made sure of it,” Tristan said as he sat.

  “Good. Please, sit, Maxen, Faelen,” Philip said and turned back to the two men standing before him. “Go on, Captain Loriot.”

  Faelen nudged Maxen toward a chair. As soon as he was seated, Faelen sat too, pressed against Maxen’s legs. After a brief hesitation, he put his arm over Faelen’s shoulders. Faelen still needed the comfort, and maybe Maxen needed the connection. He was floundering a bit and hating himself for it. This situation was far more stressful for Faelen and his family. Maxen had to put aside his nerves, and the off-balance feeling from having his world tilted with amazing new information.

  “Once Master Savarin pinpointed the location on the border where someone tried to breach the barrier, I sent out a message to the nearest army garrison for them to check. Over the summer, as you know, there were reports of bandit activity in the area, which I’ve had my suspicions about. It could have been cover for something bigger, like testing our protections. The army will get to the spot quickly once they have the message, but the garrison is a distance from here.”

  “That’s going to be a problem, if the spells work as Master Savarin believes,” Amory said.

  “They do, I’m sure of it. We all felt the attempt on the barrier and the spells’ retaliation. It will have worked and caught the person who tried,” Savarin broke in.

  Somehow, Maxen found himself in the same room as the most powerful sorcerer in Tournai, but he barely felt a faint surprise at it after everything else tonight.

  “Then we’re going to have to find a system of communication with the garrisons that’s faster than what we have now. We can’t leave these people stuck indefinitely,” Amory continued, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. “For one, they might figure out how to escape.”

  “I don’t understand how they’re being held.” Philip shook his head. “But that isn’t important. Amory raises an important consideration, though it’s also not the most immediate concern.”

  “Yes, Your Highness. We’ll work on it once the urgency of this situation has passed,” Captain Loriot said.

  “What about the other part of our problem?” Philip asked. “Why did we all transform against our will?”

  “And do we know what the range of this is?” Amory asked. “Vrai isn’t in Jumelle, but he has the Talent. If he changed as well…”

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Savarin said. He did look sorry, even slightly abashed. “The spells weren’t supposed to do this to you at all.”

  “Then why did they?” Philip asked. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure.” Savarin looked pained to admit it. “I believe they pulled too heavily on you and your magic through the connection we’ve strengthened and forced you to change. They shouldn’t have done that. They shouldn’t have leaned on your magic at all. I’ll go and figure out what’s going on now. I’m sure I can reverse it.”

  Philip nodded.

  Amory said, “Let us know what you find.”

  Loriot and Savarin both bowed and left the suite at a fast stride, leaving silence in their wake.

  After a few moments, Faelen spoke. “So the protection spells caused all of this.”

  “Apparently,” Amory said on a sigh. He looked down at Julien and adjusted his blanket. “Savarin will fix it.”

  “Of course.” But Faelen leaned back against Maxen even more as he sank into silence.

  Maxen looked around the room at everyone else, his head spinning again.

  “We’ve lost Maxen.” Tristan smiled at him. “It’s all right. I had no idea about any of this not too long ago.”

  Amory’s expression was kind. “How much do you know, Maxen?”

  “Just about the Talent. Faelen told me after he…changed.” Maxen couldn’t think of another way of putting it, but perhaps that was the way. Hadn’t someone said just that?

  Faelen stirred. “He’s it for me, Philip. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And I trust him with my l
ife.”

  Something warm and huge burst inside Maxen, and some of the joy that had suffused him earlier—it wasn’t even that long ago, but it felt like ages—returned. But the prince watched him carefully. Maxen was grateful for Faelen beside him, so resolute in his decision. Well, Maxen was too.

  “I would never tell your secrets. I love Faelen, Your Highness.” Maxen watched the prince in return. Faelen had gone rigid beneath his hand, and Maxen had no way of knowing if that was a good reaction or a bad one. After what Faelen had just said, he couldn’t mind Maxen saying that to his family, could he?

  Maxen probably had more to worry about from the prince. What would happen if Prince Philip didn’t believe him?

  The prince nodded after staring at Maxen silently for a few moments. The relief that coursed through Maxen at that one gesture was like none he’d ever felt before. He realized suddenly he’d been holding his breath and did his best to let it out unobtrusively.

  “Faelen can explain everything to you, though he might want to summarize for now,” Prince Philip said. “I’m hoping Savarin will fix this sooner rather than later.”

  “We’re all hoping for that,” Cathal grumbled. Flavian flicked his ear, earning himself a glare, which was appropriately fearsome. Flavian didn’t seem bothered as he leaned over and kissed Cathal’s brow.

  Amory ignored the byplay as he bent over Julien, the prince joining him. “He hasn’t woken up again, but I think we should keep him here. Just in case.”

  Maxen had no idea what they were talking about—and certainly couldn’t ask—but it was low on the list of things he needed explained. He turned to Faelen, who was looking up at him, eyes swirling with emotions.

  “Maxen…”

  Tristan and Etan joined them before Faelen could continue. Tristan handed Maxen a drink. “How are you holding up?”

  He wanted to know what Faelen was about to say, but he’d have to wait. “I’m confused, but managing.”

  Tristan laughed, bright and amused despite the situation. Or maybe it wasn’t so odd for them. Maybe this was every day at the palace.

  If so, what had Maxen gotten himself into?

  “We’ll explain everything we can,” Faelen said.

  “Thank you.” Maxen settled back to listen.

  Faelen put aside Maxen’s declaration with more difficulty than he would have thought possible considering the seriousness of the situation in which they found themselves. Somehow, their predicament and the apparent attack on Tournai’s border paled in importance to Maxen pronouncing his love for Faelen in front of everyone.

  But it wasn’t the time to think about it, even if it did make Faelen so happy.

  Faelen settled down to explain what he could to Maxen with Etan’s help in the time they had. Even if Savarin didn’t fix this immediately, he or Loriot would certainly return to report on their progress soon. Faelen forced himself to be brief and then answered Maxen’s questions. There were many, though Maxen seemed to be taking the night’s revelations surprisingly well. Etan helped, with Tristan sitting beside him, an arm draped over his shoulders. Maxen kept a hand on Faelen’s back the whole time, the weight of it warm and comforting, the connection soothing.

  Etan was talking when a sudden jolt went through Faelen, his body jerking with the surprise of it. Etan broke off abruptly, his eyes going wide. He’d felt it too. Did that mean…?

  “Faelen?”

  Before Faelen could answer Maxen, his magic rose. He gasped, but relief was bubbling up inside him too; he wasn’t going to be stuck as a cat forever. As much as he liked using his Talent, that would have been a horrible fate. The magic rushed through his body, and he closed his eyes, letting it overtake him. He hadn’t triggered the transformation now any more than he had earlier, but he was changing back, and he could enjoy the feeling of his magic coursing through him with that knowledge.

  When he opened his eyes, he was kneeling on the floor, and Maxen’s hand was still on his back. That might have been the thing that made him melt more than anything. Maxen hadn’t moved away from him. Faelen smiled up into his eyes. Those eyes, so concerned. Faelen’s relief and joy burst out of him in a laugh, and he lunged up, knocking Maxen into the chair back and kissing him exuberantly.

  Maxen made a muffled noise against his lips, but then he was kissing Faelen back just as exuberantly, his hands in Faelen’s hair.

  A giggle had Faelen pulling out of the kiss with a gasp. In a rush, he remembered where they were. Maxen blushed bright red, his eyes widening as he stared at Faelen.

  “It’s all right,” Faelen whispered.

  “It really is.” Meriall stood beside them. She bent down and picked something up off the floor.

  It was one of the combs Maxen had given him, which had obviously been knocked out of his hair. Faelen accepted it from her as his cheeks heated, but he said nothing, just neatened his hair quickly.

  A glance around the room showed him that no one was paying attention to them, or seemed to be. They were all too wrapped up in their own expressions of relief, though more subdued than Faelen and Maxen’s had been.

  They were all back as they should be… Alexander.

  Faelen turned wide eyes on Maxen. “I need to go see Alexander. I hate to leave you, but—”

  Maxen smiled and smoothed a stray lock of hair behind Faelen’s ear. “Go. I’ll be fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Faelen’s breath caught in his throat. Perhaps Maxen had only meant at that moment, but it sounded like more, felt like more. It felt like everything.

  He couldn’t force words out yet, so he nodded. Then he ran for the door.

  He didn’t stop running once he was out in the corridors. There was no dignity to it, certainly nothing that befit his position or would reflect well on Philip and the family, but he couldn’t care. He wasn’t sure why he felt this overwhelming urgency to get to Alexander, except that so much had happened and their last words had been angry ones. He never wanted anger between them, never wanted anger and resentment to be what they felt for each other.

  As he turned a corner, he found Alexander rushing toward him with Elodie hurrying behind him. Everything inside Faelen relaxed when he saw his twin. Alexander was all right. They met in the center of the corridor and flung themselves at each other in a tight hug.

  “You’re all right?” Alexander whispered, his face buried in Faelen’s shoulder.

  “Yes. You?”

  “Yes.” Alexander tightened his arms, almost to the point that Faelen couldn’t breathe, but he was probably squeezing Alexander just as hard. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “You two probably shouldn’t do this in a hallway,” Elodie murmured beside them. “We’re meant to not be raising anyone’s suspicions, and we’re in sight of some of the guards.”

  They moved apart but didn’t release each other entirely. Elodie bounced a bit on her heels. She was dressed casually for her in a gown of soft blue wool, her hair dressed simply. At least the debacle hadn’t happened when she was out at a social event. The idea of it left Faelen ice cold with the fear at what could have happened. But Savarin had fixed it. He had to have.

  “Why don’t you go back to your rooms and talk? I’ll let everyone know where you are.”

  “Thank you, El,” Alexander said.

  They didn’t say anything more as they walked to their suite. It was best if they didn’t air personal matters where prying ears could hear or display their panic over what had happened that night—Elodie had been right about that.

  Faelen had assumed they would both explode into chatter as soon as they were behind closed doors, but they just looked at each other for a moment.

  “Faelen, I am sorry. I only ever wanted to keep you from getting hurt.”

  Faelen reached out and drew Alexander into another hug. “I know. You just went about it really poorly.”

  Alexander let out a chuckle that was just a bit watery. “I hated not knowing if you were all right tonight. It
scared me that you could have been anywhere, or if you were with Maxen, he might have reacted badly, and…”

  “He actually took it pretty well.”

  “I’m glad. And the two of you?”

  “We’ve come to an understanding.” He explained what he and Maxen had discussed. “I think this is going to work.”

  “I think so too.” Alexander leaned back to look at him. “Don’t forget about me, all right?”

  “How could I ever forget about you?” The thought was inconceivable. Alexander was part of him.

  The slight trace of…sadness?…in Alexander’s eyes surprised Faelen. “You’re going to be a married man soon.”

  Faelen laughed, even as the thought of it made him ache just a bit, made him wish for that permanence. “I don’t know about that. We haven’t talked about marriage.”

  But Maxen had said he loved him. And Faelen loved Maxen so much.

  Alexander shook his head, all sadness gone as he smiled at Faelen. “You will. You’re the marrying type, dear.”

  He really couldn’t say anything to that; Alexander did know him well.

  “How will he feel about living here?” Alexander asked.

  “We haven’t come close to talking about living arrangements.” Faelen couldn’t imagine what they would be. Would Maxen leave his house for a life in the palace? Did Faelen want to leave his family to live with Maxen? They’d figure it out. Faelen believed now that they could make anything work, but he’d rather discuss it with Maxen first, not Alexander. “I was worried about you too. Even when I got back here, I was stuck in Philip and Amory’s sitting room. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I was. Scared—for you and for me, for all of us.” Alexander didn’t mention the fear that they might have been stuck, but Faelen could see it clearly because he’d felt it too.

  “Me too. So much. I wish we’d been together.”

  Maxen had been with him, though, and that had been good. Somehow, over the course of bare months, he’d come to need someone as much as he needed his twin, if in a different way.