He twined his fingers with Flavian’s as he moved, as Flavian moved with him, and thrilled when Flavian held on. Exulted when Flavian called his name as pleasure swamped him. And couldn’t think at all when he followed Flavian into pleasure.
AFTERWARD, THEY lay together for a long time. They’d repositioned themselves without a word so Flavian’s head rested on Cathal’s chest, one of his arms around Cathal’s waist, one of his legs tossed over Cathal’s. Cathal lazily stroked a hand up and down Flavian’s back, enjoying the feel of skin under his fingers, the warm weight of Flavian’s body against his side, but content to do nothing more than hold him.
Flavian seemed the same, his eyes closed, his face relaxed. Cathal would have thought him asleep if his fingers weren’t idly playing with the hair on Cathal’s chest. Cathal swept his hand up to the back of Flavian’s neck and into his hair.
“Don’t get too attached to it. I’m cutting it as soon as this ridiculous charade ends,” Flavian murmured.
Cathal’s breath caught. He was more concerned that the statement seemed to imply that he would still see Flavian after than anything about his hair. “As long as you don’t shave it all off.”
“I didn’t intend to,” Flavian answered in the same murmur, as if he didn’t realize the implications of his words.
“Good.” He combed Flavian’s hair with his fingers, letting the strands slip and slide through them. “I don’t know if I’d like you bald.”
“I don’t believe you’d have a say in the matter if I wanted to shave it off.” Flavian paused. “Not that I do, but if I did.”
Cathal smiled, amusement and affection twining warmly in his chest. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“You’re rather ridiculous yourself.” Flavian was silent and still for a moment. “I wouldn’t have expected it.”
“No?”
“No. I wouldn’t have expected any of this. You were so serious, so dutiful.”
“I didn’t expect this either.” Hadn’t expected it, but didn’t want to give it up.
Flavian propped himself up on one elbow so he could look at Cathal. “What are we doing, Cathal?”
He considered a flippant answer, but that would only annoy Flavian, and he was enjoying this aspect of Flavian without the sharp spines. And Cathal had more of an answer to that question than he did before. He couldn’t avoid the conversation. “Trying to be with you. That’s what I’m doing. I hope we’re trying to be together.”
He forced himself to keep looking at Flavian. He kept his hands on Flavian too, one still spread on Flavian’s smooth back, the other resting on his hip, needing the connection, hoping it would help.
Flavian stared for a long time, the expression in his eyes unfathomable, as Cathal became progressively more worried.
“How? I mean, we can’t,” Flavian said just as Cathal was about to jump out of his skin.
“I know it doesn’t look that way. I know it isn’t….” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He was doing this wrong. “I have to marry Velia. My father negotiated the betrothal with the emperor. If it had been with anyone else, I could have nullified the agreement here because I’m of age and I didn’t consent to it.”
“But you can’t because the agreement is with Ardunn.”
Cathal nodded. He didn’t have to explain. Flavian knew Ardunn. “We’re trying to find a way out of it that won’t potentially plunge us into war, but… I have to marry Velia. She’s your friend, and I’m sure she’s a lovely woman, but I don’t want to marry Velia. I don’t want to be with Velia.”
He paused, hoping Flavian would understand, because Cathal was having a far more difficult time finding words than he’d thought he would.
“You want… you want to be with me.” Flavian’s brow drew together with a little wrinkle.
“Yes, I want to be with you.” He danced his fingers over Flavian’s brow, smoothing out the little wrinkles. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“I—yes, actually. I have no idea why you’d choose to be with me when you could have Velia or anyone.”
He didn’t like how perplexed Flavian seemed. “Now is not the time to have a low opinion of yourself.”
“Cathal,” Flavian said, his tone not at all amused.
“Flavian.” Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to joke at the moment. Cathal took a breath. Could he actually say it? Flavian watched him with wide eyes. Yes. “I think you’re wonderful. I love you. I don’t know how or when it happened, but it did, and I want to be with you.”
When Flavian just stared, Cathal rushed on. “Lady Flavia could disappear, and Master Flavian, the painter, could appear, and we could be together.”
“Cathal….”
“I know it isn’t ideal. It isn’t the way I would choose.” For the first time, he truly understood how Philip had felt and why he chose to marry Amory. Cathal cupped a hand around Flavian’s cheek. “But we could be together. And I think that would make everything better. Being with you.”
“Cathal….” Flavian caressed Cathal’s face, his neck, finally letting his hand come to rest over Cathal’s heart. Cathal took comfort from the weight of Flavian’s hand there, bringing his own up to cover it, to hold it there. Because if Flavian was touching him, then Flavian wasn’t leaving his bed or his life. “How would it even work? You marry Velia, and we carry on the way we’ve been?”
“Not just as we have been. You get to be you, not this role you’ve played, and we’re not going to sneak around. We’ll be respectful, but I won’t hide you. I want to be with you, Flavian, in and out of bed. Us, together.”
“I don’t know how it could work.”
“We can figure it out. We can make it work.” It wasn’t at all unheard of for a prince of Tournai to keep a lover, the lover living in the palace with the prince and sharing his life, sometimes even after a prince’s marriage. Amory had been Philip’s lover before they married. Surely, Cathal could make the same concept apply to them. Philip had already, at least tacitly, given them his approval. “We can, I promise you.”
“I… I want to. I do. I don’t understand how our being lovers, openly, while you’re married to Velia could ever be accepted. Even then, I’m tempted, but… Velia is my friend. She helped me leave Ardunn. And I haven’t even told her you know about me, let alone that we’re lovers.”
Everything in Cathal kept lifting and dropping. He was going to be sick from it soon. He thrilled that Flavian wanted to be with him, thrilled that Flavian already called them lovers. Hated that Flavian didn’t wholeheartedly, enthusiastically agree to try. “I understand how you feel, I think. I’ve struggled with this, even though my commitment to Velia wasn’t my choice. But I do love you, Flavian, and I want a commitment to you.”
Flavian stared for a long time, as Cathal tried to wait patiently, and then laughed. “I never expected you to say any of this. I never thought you loved me.”
Cathal ran his hands through Flavian’s hair, hoping to soothe and calm. He refused to ask whether Flavian loved him, despite the overwhelming temptation.
“I want to, Cathal, but I need to talk to Velia. I have to tell her.”
“Of course. Do you want me to go with you to talk to her?”
Flavian shook his head. “No, I’ve known her a long time. I should be the one to tell her.”
“What do you think she’ll say?”
“I have no idea. It’s an arranged marriage. She didn’t go into it with any more of a say than you did, and she didn’t love you. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be comfortable with this.”
Cathal forced himself to ask the question, even though he dreaded the answer. “And if she isn’t?”
Flavian seemed suddenly lost. “I don’t know.”
Cathal pulled Flavian down to lie against his chest again, holding him tightly. Flavian’s arms wrapped around Cathal and held on hard. Cathal rubbed his hands over Flavian’s back. “You’ll tell me what she says? As soon as you talk to her.”
Flavian nodded against Cathal’s chest and tucked himself even closer. “I will.”
Chapter 22
SAYING HE would talk to Velia was far easier than actually doing it, especially when Flavian was still stunned by everything Cathal said, everything Cathal wanted with Flavian. He stared out the window in his bedchamber, but the view, the colors of sky and trees and stone all blurred together until he wasn’t really seeing anything.
Cathal loved him. Cathal wanted a life with him.
Cathal had to marry Velia.
And, though Flavian had been too scared to say it, Flavian loved Cathal. He just wasn’t certain he could trust that being Cathal’s lover, staying with Cathal, could end well for either of them. Any of them, if he counted Velia, and he had to, despite doing a fair job of not thinking of her connection to Cathal most of the time when he and Cathal were together.
He had to think of her. He had to think of how she would react, if she would care if he and Cathal continued their relationship. More than continued it—made it public and permanent.
The temptation of that possibility drove him, tantalized him. He wanted to be able to walk with Cathal as himself, to love him openly. To have something like what the princes had. He’d come to Tournai from Ardunn to find a new life, but whatever he’d thought before, he didn’t want that new life to be spent alone. He wanted to spend it with Cathal.
But something stopped him from grabbing at everything Cathal offered, and it wasn’t just Velia. He was sorely tempted to open to a fresh page in his sketchbook and draw everyone—Velia, Cathal. Then he would see. He would see the truth.
But Flavian was too afraid to do that too. Because he desperately wanted Cathal to love him the way Cathal said he did, for everything to turn out the way he wanted. And how likely was that, truly? Flavian curled his hands into fists, tightening them until he could feel the bite of his nails into his palms. He pressed a fist to the windowpane in front of his face. The glass was perfectly clear, unlike the glass windows at home that were riddled with imperfections. Above his head, colored glass had been set in a geometric-patterned stripe. Even that was flawless.
And he had to stop delaying with trivialities. He had just picked up the sketchbook from where he’d left it on his bed, the bed he hadn’t slept in for two nights because Cathal’s bed was far more inviting, when a sharp knock sounded at the door. The door opened before he could say anything, and Velia whisked inside, closing the door behind her.
The words of reprimand at the intrusion died on his lips. Only Velia knocked like that, and only she would enter his bedchamber without his permission. He should be more surprised he’d forgotten to lock the door. It only showed how distracted he was by all that was happening.
“Flavian, I need to speak with you,” Velia said with no preamble. She rushed into the room and stopped abruptly in the center of the plush carpet.
“I need to talk with you as well, actually.”
“Me first. This is important.”
As if whatever he had to say wasn’t important. He took a deep breath. Velia didn’t know what Flavian wanted to talk about, so she had no idea whether it was more important than what she wanted to tell him. He couldn’t get upset with her because he was anxious.
“They’re looking for you,” she said.
His first thought was that Cathal or the princes were looking for him, but that wouldn’t make Velia so wild-eyed and pale. Well, it might since she didn’t know they knew about Flavian. “Who’s looking for me?”
She just looked at him, her eyes bleak.
“Velia, is my father looking for me?” He forced himself to ask the question slowly, to speak each word clearly. To ascertain what was happening before he reacted.
“Yes, well, sort of.” She twisted the bracelets she wore on her right wrist.
“Sort of?”
“Your father is looking for you, but he isn’t the only one.” She tugged on the bracelets. “The emperor is searching for you too.”
“The emperor?” It came out as a shout, and he made himself lower his voice, even as he felt the bottom dropping out from under the new life he was trying his hardest to build. “Why is the emperor of Ardunn looking for me? I cannot believe he becomes personally involved whenever someone who is not yet of age disappears.”
“Of course he doesn’t. He’s looking for you because of your Talent—the magic when you draw.” She was still twisting the bracelets, round and round.
“Well, I didn’t think you meant my artistic talent.” He took a deep breath. The emperor was looking for him. All right, it could still be fine. No one knew where he was, obviously, or someone would have come for him already. And how would they find out? Velia wouldn’t tell. He could still have the life he wanted. “How did you find out? Did your family write to you?”
Velia spun around, her skirts and curls flaring out around her, to face away from him.
His stomach sank. Something was badly wrong, more even than he’d thought. “Velia? What is it?”
She turned back around slowly, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her fingers were wrapped around a bracelet, pulling it so tight he was amazed it hadn’t snapped yet. “No, I didn’t hear it from family. I was informed that they’re searching for you—and asked if I had any information about your whereabouts—and I was told to watch for you in case you approached me… by a contact here in Tournai.”
His stomach churned. He didn’t want to know. “A contact? What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m looking and listening for particular information about Tournai and its rulers that I’m to pass back to Ardunn via contacts in Jumelle.”
“You’re a spy.” His flat tone surprised even him.
“Yes.”
Her simple answer stole his breath for a moment. “How—how is this possible? We were both—we were so happy to leave Ardunn, to start fresh in Tournai. How can you be spying for them?”
“You were happy to leave Ardunn, and I understand that. But I don’t feel the same. My family is in favor with the emperor, and I had a comfortable life there.”
He didn’t know her at all. He couldn’t understand how he had been so wrong. “I’m baffled, Velia. I don’t understand how you can do this, how you can spy on people who have taken us in and treated us well. A family you’re supposed to be marrying into.”
Velia’s hand dropped away from her bracelet, and she clasped her hands at her waist. “You’re so naive sometimes, Flavian. I can easily spy on them. I’m a daughter of Ardunn, and my loyalty lies with the emperor.”
“And what about me, Velia? Naive as I may be,” Flavian snapped out. “What about your loyalty to me? Your friend, or at least I thought I was.”
“Oh, calm down. You really are horribly overreacting.”
“Am I? I don’t think so. Do they know where I am, Velia? Have you told them?” he demanded. He was already calculating how much he could take with him when he packed up his things to run, already trying to figure out where to go. Already bracing himself to leave Cathal. But he couldn’t think about that part yet.
“No, they don’t know where you are. And you’re my friend. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I don’t see how it’s ridiculous to ask these things when you’ve told me you’re a spy for Ardunn and the emperor is looking for me.”
“It is ridiculous when you know I’m your friend. That’s why I’m telling you they’re searching. I didn’t tell them where you are, and I won’t. They don’t know you’re in Tournai, and they won’t find out from me, which could certainly go poorly for me if they find out you’re with me, but I thought you should know.” She lifted her chin. “I almost didn’t tell you at all.”
“You almost didn’t….” He had no idea what to say.
“It doesn’t matter, Flavian. They can’t search the whole world. They can’t even search all of Tournai. You could be anywhere for all they know.”
“But they are looking here.”
She waved a hand dismi
ssively. “They’ve put the word out to all their people to listen for rumors. And they’re really only contemplating Tournai because it’s such a large port with so many people coming through. They don’t know you’re here.”
But they might find him, or they might hear rumors of an artist matching his description and come for him. He wondered what would happen. Would they just grab him on the street and ship him back to Ardunn? He would never be safe.
He thought he might throw up.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, knowing he was probably smudging the cosmetics and not caring one bit. “Why?”
Velia tilted her head. “Why what?”
“Why are you spying? What do they want?” When she hesitated, he fixed her with a hard stare. “Tell me.”
She jumped. “They want several things. I was supposed to get close to the royal family, to listen and get them to trust me. To gather information and, in time, influence decisions.”
“What kind of information? What are they looking for, Velia?”
She threw her hands up. “You really are naive. What do you think they’re looking for, Flavian? Tournai is a rich country with a strategic location for trade. They want the secrets to Tournai’s glassmaking, since it’s far more refined than anything they have in Ardunn, but mostly they want a way in. They wanted to know about the country’s defenses and how they can get around them.”
“They want to invade Tournai.”
She shrugged, that elegant little shrug that always seemed so unconcerned. But she was unconcerned; he was the only one on the verge of panic. “Perhaps. I don’t know the emperor’s plans. But think about it. Not only is Tournai wealthy in its own right, it would provide Ardunn with a perfect entry point for this side of the continent. Ardunn can’t move west without considerable difficultly. The Nashira Mountains are too high, too desolate—you know that. But from Tournai they could circumvent the mountains entirely.” Another shrug. “But I don’t know what, if any, plans there are. I was only told to gather information.”
The Artist’s Masquerade Page 28
