Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

  Gib seemed to understand and went back to wringing his hands together. “When did you get in?”

  Joel cleared his throat. “Just now. Ambassador Cenric and I were on our way to brief the King and Seneschal Koal.” He cast a glance over his shoulder, in the direction of his mentor. I hope this briefing doesn’t take all night. I’d love nothing more than to go home and spend time with Gib.

  Cenric Leal possessed no magic, but in that moment, it was as though the ambassador could read Joel’s thoughts. “I’ll deal with all the paperwork. Why don’t you go catch up with your friends?” He winked at Joel.

  “Thank you.” Joel bowed his head to hide his pink cheeks. Now if only Gib wasn’t on duty.

  Koal exchanged a silent, knowing glance with Cenric, and then he dismissed his own understudy. “Gibben, we’ll go over the notes from the council session later. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  Gib opened his mouth to respond, but his words fell upon deaf ears as Koal, Cenric, King Rishi, and the rest of their entourage had already turned and were talking amongst themselves as they departed.

  Joel rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose I should go see Mother and the girls. Would you like to accompany me?”

  “Did you even have to ask?” Gib replied, laughing.

  A mark later found Joel and Gib standing in the grand entranceway of the Adelwijn estate. The family servant, a wiry man with greying hair named Otos, let them inside, and almost immediately, Joel’s mother and sisters flocked into the room in a flurry of exuberant screams and cheers.

  Lady Mrifa threw both arms around her son’s neck. “Oh, by the Light of Daya!” she squealed. “You’re home!”

  Nearly toppling from the force of the embrace, Joel managed to laugh before his face was covered by kisses. He sighed but tolerated the fawning for the time being. Mrifa kissed his forehead and each of his cheeks, her vice-like grip around his neck nearly enough to choke him.

  “Oh, Joel. I feared you would never return!” Mrifa wailed against his chest.

  Behind him, Heidi’s voice sounded exasperated. “Mother, stop being so embarrassing.”

  Mrifa wiped a tear from her eye as she finally relinquished her hold. She whipped around to regard her daughter, pursing plump, cherry lips. “Heidi Adelwijn, when you have children, you’ll understand the worry a mother goes through when her babies go off seeking danger—”

  “Danger?” Joel chuckled. “I was in Shantar, Mother, perhaps one of the most peaceful nations this side of the sea—”

  “Even so! A thousand things could have gone wrong,” Mrifa fretted. She paused, toying with a strand of blonde hair. “A lady at court told me of all the venomous snakes in Shantar. What if you’d been bitten by one, Joel? You might have died!”

  Joel pressed his lips together to contain the ridiculous smile threatening to spread across his face. “The people of Shantar have been dealing with snake bites for centuries. Their healers are as well trained as ours in Arden. Had it happened—which it didn’t—I would have been fine.”

  Mrifa rested one of her small hands against the side of his face. “Promise you won’t worry me again, Joel.”

  Now it was Carmen’s turn to snicker. The youngest of Joel’s siblings crossed her arms over her bosom. “Chhaya’s bane, Mother! What do you plan to do? Lock him inside the estate for the rest of his life?”

  “Don’t give her any ideas,” Heidi groaned.

  Joel managed to escape Mrifa’s grasp and went to greet his sisters, giving each a hug. He held the younger of the two at arm’s length after the embrace had ended. “I think you’ve gotten taller.”

  “I have.” Carmen beamed.

  “She’s blossomed into a beautiful young woman.” Mrifa gave her daughter a hard look. “Not that anyone can see her beauty beneath all those boy’s clothes she chooses to wear.”

  Carmen stuck out her tongue. “I’m going to be a royal guardswoman one day.”

  “It wouldn’t pain you to wear a dress once in a while—”

  “Mother, I don’t like dresses! Just because Heidi enjoys dolling herself up like a princess doesn’t mean I do!”

  Joel looked down so Mrifa wouldn’t catch his smile. As the young lady bested her mother with a sharp tongue and wit, Carmen sounded very much like Gib’s friend, Kezra Malin-Rai. In fact, since that first year when Gib and Kezra had shared weaponry class together, scores of young girls had made the decision to join the military—Carmen included. The trend to forgo basket-weaving and cooking classes in favor of physical training and politics seemed to be growing in popularity among the young women of Arden.

  “Are you hungry, Joel? Gib?” Mrifa asked, face still pinched. “Tabitha is cooking us a lovely stew for dinner.”

  Joel nodded even as his stomach gurgled.

  Likewise, Gib’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. “That sounds wonderful, Lady.”

  Taking hold of her heavy velvet and lace skirt, Mrifa marched toward the kitchen, stopping long enough to give Gib’s cheek an affectionate pinch as she passed. It seemed as though her jubilant demeanor had once again returned. “I’ll inform Tabitha to set two extra plates at the table.”

  After bellies were full and he’d told his mother and sisters every detail of his journey, Joel excused himself from the table. Tabitha had taken it upon herself to draw him a warm bath, for which the mage was grateful. The day’s excitement had begun to take its toll, and by the time Joel finished climbing the marble staircase and stripped his clothing, nothing in the world sounded more wonderful than a bath.

  A sigh escaped Joel’s mouth as he slid into the tub. The water verged on scorching hot, and it turned his fair skin a lovely shade of pink within moments. He settled into the water and quickly found his weary muscles relaxing.

  As the steam danced across the top of the water and dampened his raven hair, Joel’s eyelids fluttered closed. The aromatic oils Tabitha had placed in the water seeped into his skin, bathing him in drowsy heat. The spicy, floral scents reminded Joel of those in Shantar, and despite his excitement to be home, he found himself missing the city of Raja and its colorful culture. Thinking back on his time there, it seemed to have passed by so fast.

  Yet he’d been there long enough for a seed to be planted in his soul. Observing Cenric work magic—the magic of words—had a profound impact on Joel. He’d watched in amazement as his mentor bridged the gap between differing cultures and political viewpoints, creating harmonious treaties that would benefit not only one country, but all. With no threats given or shouts exchanged, wielding only words and compassion, Cenric accomplished more in six moonturns than the High Council of Arden had accomplished in the past six years.

  The idea of changing the world through peaceful negotiation struck a deep chord in Joel’s heart, and he found himself dreaming of a time when he could do the same. He wanted to do what Cenric did. Joel wanted to not only see the world, but enlighten it. Perhaps he would even have opportunities to make peace with Shiraz. The High Council seemed to think war was the only solution, but what if it didn’t have to come to that? What if peace were possible?

  The truth was that his experience in Shantar had left Joel yearning for more. The well-trodden path he’d been walking had seemed so clear before he’d left on his internship. He would graduate and take a job at the palace, perhaps as a portal guardian or mage trainer. He’d live out his years in Silver City, and yes, his contributions to Arden would be valuable—but what if he could do more?

  Joel’s eyes popped open at the sound of a throat being cleared. Joel’s gaze came to rest on his companion, standing in the doorway, and a smile passed over Joel’s face as all thoughts of travel were cast aside.

  “A message arrived just a moment ago,” Gib said, lingering beneath the wooden frame that separated the bathing area from the bedchamber. The young man had changed out of his understudy uniform and now wore a simple white tunic and leather breeches.

  Joel sat up a little straighter in the tub, regarding the
other man from beneath heavy lashes. “Oh?”

  “Hasain has invited us to the Rose Bouquet tonight. Everyone will be there, and they’ll want to see you. But we can stay in if you’d like. I know you must be tired—”

  “No, no,” Joel replied. “I’d love to see everyone. Let’s go.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Joel reached for his companion, a silent invitation.

  Gib crossed the room and knelt beside the tub, taking Joel’s hand into his own. Joel caressed the backside of Gib’s hand for a moment before lifting a free palm to the young man’s face. Joel’s chest tightened. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Gib leaned into the touch as Joel began to run fingers through the brown curls crowning Gib’s head. “I’ve missed you more than words can tell.”

  Joel made some kind of undignified noise as droplets welled in the corner of each of his eyes.

  Gib wiped away each tear with tender care. “I love you.”

  Silence descended upon the pair as Gib leaned closer, stroking Joel’s damp hair and cradling the base of his skull with calloused fingers. The understudy’s large, brown eyes scanned Joel’s—searching, pondering, seeking an answer to some question far too profound to ask—and then Gib drew their faces together until no space remained between them and their mouths were touching.

  Joel trembled when their lips met, the kiss timid and soft after so many moonturns apart. It felt new again, as innocent and pure as the first time. Joel moved slowly, reacquainting himself with every dip and curve of the other man’s mouth, and Gib seemed more than content to allow it.

  And then, after several more moments, Gib pressed deeper still, and Joel’s head swam with fuzzy euphoria as the kiss became less tame and more driven by desire. He latched onto his companion, swearing silently never to let go again. How could Joel ever say goodbye a second time? How could he forsake all that he had right here and now?

  The need for air finally forced them apart, and Joel pulled back, panting and overcome by boundless emotion. “When are our friends expecting us at the Rose?”

  Gib smiled coyly. “Not for another couple of marks.”

  “Perfect,” Joel chuckled into his companion’s ear.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind us tagging along?”

  Gib smiled and looked back at his companion. Joel’s cheeks were flushed with either the cool night air or the pleasantries of good company, perhaps both. Gib couldn’t be sure.

  Hasain had kept a step ahead of the pair but turned back long enough to reply. “You know everyone wants to see you, Joel. Stop being so modest.”

  Joel put a hand over his heart. “I’ve missed all of you terribly. It’ll be so good to see everyone.”

  “Even if you have to come to the Rose Bouquet to see them?” Gib had to lift his voice over the merry music pouring into the street.

  They shared a laugh as they followed Hasain to the steps of the tavern. The Rose Bouquet was the largest and possibly the best known tavern in all of Silver City. The three story building had once been a warehouse, but when a wealthy family of merchants purchased it years before, they had repurposed it into the establishment it was today. Gib had seen no finer place where one might get a warm meal, strong drink, a room for the night, and even someone to share a bed with—all for the right price, of course—and despite the clientele one might expect to find here, the crowd was always an assortment of mixed company. The Rose Bouquet was a place where lords and ladies could be found mingling with waifs, soldiers, and beggars.

  Hasain led the way through the open door. Music, light, and laughter enveloped them, and Gib lifted his nose to the smell of stew even as Joel made a sound of appreciation. Of course, the entire dwelling was packed. No booth, table, or chair lay empty.

  Gib called over the din to Hasain. “Do you know where everyone is?”

  Already on his way to the bar, Hasain barely glanced back. “How would I know? Are you too spoiled to look for yourself?”

  Gib let out a huff but smiled when he felt Joel’s fingertips brush his own. Their eyes met and instantly, heat pooled on Gib’s face. “We could just head back to the estate. They don’t even know we’re here yet.”

  “Are you trying to bribe me?” Joel quirked one brow and laughed.

  Gib’s face burned like someone held a torch close by. “No—I mean—oh hell, there’s always tomorrow to come see everyone.”

  Blue eyes twinkling, Joel opened his mouth to respond, only to be stopped short by a boisterous voice shouting over the crowd. “Oh, hey! Joel is back! Gib Nemesio and Joel Adelwijn, over here!”

  Gib grimaced. They’d been caught after all.

  In a booth in the far corner, a familiar figure waved his hands at them. Nage Nessuno was wearing his sentinel uniform, but judging from his good cheer and nearly empty flagon, Gib was willing to bet his duties had ended for the day. An orphan from birth, Nage had been drafted alongside Gib. Counted among the poorest students that year, he and Nage had forged a bond as a defense against the “aloof highborns.” It all seemed laughable now, seeing as they’d befriended Diddy a moment after only to find out he was a prince.

  “I guess we’d be missed now,” Joel whispered. “Perhaps we’ll only stay for one drink?”

  Gib nodded as he waved back to Nage. “Fair enough—but no more touching me. My face is already blazing.”

  They made their way to the booth without another word, but Joel made heavy eye contact the whole way. Gib’s head didn’t feel any less fuzzy by the time they got there.

  Tarquin had arrived before them and was squeezed between Nage and the wall. His pale face went red. “Oh, thank The Two. I was beginning to think I’d have to put up with him by myself all night.”

  Rolling laughter gave rise to a hiccup before Nage cuffed his friend’s arm. “Tarquin’s no fun. Wouldn’t even get a mead ’til he knew you two were gonna show.”

  Tarquin straightened the laces on his tunic absently and glanced around. “Someone had to babysit you. You’re lucky that girl didn’t take you seriously earlier. I would have been mortified to decline her.”

  Nage laughed. “The two of you should have seen it.” He gasped for air. “I thought to buy him a pretty Red Rose, you see an—”

  Joel hid his face behind his hands and Tarquin nearly slipped under the table. Gib couldn’t help but laugh. The workers at the Rose Bouquet each wore a simple rose as part of their attire. The various colors—white, yellow, and red—showed what type of service the person offered. White and yellow roses indicated a worker was there to be seen and offer help, but it was common knowledge they weren’t to be touched. Red roses, on the other hand, were reserved for the prostitutes. Gib could scarcely imagine what Tarquin would do if he found himself the subject of a Red Rose’s desire.

  Hasain found his way to their table. “Did I miss something?”

  Joel scooted into the booth and motioned for Gib to follow. “We were discussing the events of the evening—”

  “Nothing of importance!” balked Tarquin.

  Gib nearly choked for trying to stop his laughing fit. “Are you going to sit down or not?”

  Hasain remained standing with his drink in hand. He cast a shrewd gaze around the room and heaved a sigh. “Does anyone know if Kezra has arrived yet?”

  The giddy laughter fell away as Gib and Tarquin shared a somber look. Tensions had been growing recently between some of Gib’s friends—Kezra, Nawaz Arrio, and Hasain. Kezra was every bit the warrior she had trained to be, but she was also a woman, and in recent moonturns, both Nawaz and Hasain had grown fond of her undeniable strength and fiery spirit. Whether she’d asked for it or not, Kezra had won the affections of both men, putting the group of friends in an awkward position.

  At first, Kezra had laughed them both off, but Gib knew she’d always favored Nawaz a little. He suspected it to be because Nawaz would spar with her and talk as though she were his equal. Hasain’s flattery and charm worked with the ladies of the c
ourt, but not on Kezra.

  “Yeah,” Nage replied. “She and Nawaz went to get drinks a bit ago. I don’t know where they are now.” He tipped his flagon up and took a long pull. “Should one of us go look for ’em?”

  Hasain’s face pinched as he sat beside Gib. “No. They’ll find their way back—if they mean to.”

  Silence rolled off Hasain like icy waves, and try as Gib might, he could think of nothing to say.

  After a brief moment, Joel cleared his throat. Blue eyes scanned their company and his words were smooth, calm, every bit like that of an envoy. “Nage, how goes your new assignment? Though, I suppose it’s not new anymore, is it?”

  “It was when you left.” Nage pushed his drink away and pressed out a quiet belch. “Eh, it’s fine. I like bein’ inside Silver better than on the outer wall.”

  “Really? Weren’t you posted near the mine where you used to work?”

  A sly smile split his face. “Exactly. Too many old ‘pals’ out there. I’m better off in here where no one knows me. I can meet some better—”

  Tarquin perked up at that. “That’s right! Now that Joel and Cenric Leal are back, you’ll have to meet your lady friend’s father!”

  “Lady friend?” Gib asked. “What’s this then? I didn’t know you were courting.”

  Nage sank down in his seat, covering his face with one hand. “We’re not courting.”

  “Not yet,” Tarquin clarified. “But now that Nia’s father is back, you’ll be able to ask permission.”

  Joel’s eyes went wide. “Cenric’s daughter? Nage, you scoundrel, how did you manage that?”

  When Nage only blushed deeper and shrugged, Joel reached across the table to give his shoulder a friendly pat. “Cenric really is a very nice man. You needn’t worry about meeting him—”