Cross Purposes (Chronicles of Ylandre, Book 5) (5 page)

And when did I offer in the first place?
Keosqe stared at Veare, a little nonplussed by his friend’s presumption of his hospitality. “I take it you want me to invite him myself.”

“Well, he’d be more inclined to accept than if he thought I asked this of you,” Veare admitted.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Keosqe looked about for Tristen. Spotting the youth leaning against a nearby pillar looking quite bored, he drew the latter’s attention with a brisk gesture and motioned for him to approach. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Tristen obeyed.

“Ver says your budget is insufficient for decent lodging in Rikara,” Keosqe said as soon as Tristen joined them.

Tristen half glared at his brother while muttering, “Um, unfortunately, yes. But I’m sure I’ll find a good enough place to stay.”

“Why make do when you can live at my house?” Keosqe pointed out. He waved away Tristen’s attempts at protesting. “I won’t have you putting yourself at risk in some unwholesome room in the stews. You’re more than welcome to stay with me. Indeed, I insist you do.”

And so here was Tristen moving into the Deilen townhouse with as much grace as he could muster given his reluctance to owe anyone anything. Keosqe wondered whether the lad would permit him to provide him with a few more changes of clothing and perhaps an extra pair of boots. After enough time for him to feel at home had passed, of course.

* * * *

Right after the midday meal, Tristen headed for the State University to enroll and familiarize himself with the sprawling campus. In particular, he made his way around the medical college where he would be spending much of the next several years. The sun was no longer riding high when he returned to the townhouse.

Hardly had he mounted the stairs when Veare intercepted him and invited him to join him as he ran some errands. Eager to see more of the kingdom’s capital, Tristen agreed and then quickly wished he had not when Keosqe happened on them, learned of their sortie into the city and indicated he might accompany them part of the way.

Tristen was not sure if it was merely the signs of encroaching sexual awareness, but he did not like the way his body responded to the Sidonan noble. He could not bring himself to confide his strange feelings to Veare and thus was forced to deal with them as best as he could. Worsening matters, he was certain he had never felt this way with other Deira, however appealing.

“I need to write a letter to Narion first,” Veare said. “I want to let him know we arrived safely and when I’ll return to Sidona.”

Tristen stopped in mid-shrug when he glimpsed Keosqe’s face. For a fleeting moment, he swore he saw sadness and longing shadow the noble’s features. But Keosqe schooled his expression so swiftly, had Tristen not seen the same reaction a few months back, he would have thought he’d merely imagined it now.

“Take your time,” Keosqe easily said. “Tris and I will wait here.”

While Veare hurried back to his room, Keosqe led Tristen to the green parlor, a chamber of soothing verdant hues from the celadon draperies to the virescent brocade upholstery of the couches and chairs to the emerald Khitairan carpet edged in darkest brown and sparingly adorned with clusters of dark gold lilies.

Tristen sauntered to the wide window—it looked out on a lush herb garden and the ivy-strewn wall that separated the property from the neighboring house. He almost jumped when Keosqe came to his side instead of sitting on the couch or taking the great chair by the fireplace. Chiding himself for being so fidgety around the noble, he did his best to relax.

Several minutes passed in silence as they waited. He chanced a peek at Keosqe.

The noble looked quite forlorn. He was staring down at the garden without really seeing it and with the air of someone lost. Tristen noted how he clenched and unclenched the fist he’d laid on the windowsill and then lifted it to rub his forehead as if it ached. So different was his attitude from his normal brisk and confident manner that Tristen could not help feeling sympathy, coupled with a need to comfort his companion.

“You’ve never told him, have you?” he blurted. He slightly flinched when Keosqe turned a startled, questioning gaze on him. “I mean, you’re in love with my brother, but you didn’t tell him.”

For an uncomfortable while, Keosqe regarded him warily. At length, he said, “Nay, I never told him.”

“Why not?”

Keosqe sighed. “He’s my oldest friend from Sidona. I couldn’t risk losing what we have by imposing my feelings on him.”

“But he would have gained so much more if it was you that he’d wed,” Tristen pointed out in confusion. “He’d be Heris of Sidona.”

“He doesn’t love me that way. And he would have come to resent the expectations foisted on him had he become my consort.”

Tristen stared at Keosqe. “So you did suggest it?”

“Only hypothetically.” Keosqe smiled a little wanly. “It was several years back. We wound up discussing our marriage prospects one evening. I tested the waters so to speak and asked him if he could picture himself wed to a Herun.”

“And?”

“He declared himself unwilling to take on the duties and obligations of a Heris.”

Tristen pursed his lips. “Yes, that sounds just like him,” he muttered. “Is that why you didn’t tell him how you feel? You didn’t want to pressure him into caring for you in the same way?”

Keosqe regarded him with gratitude and respect, which pleased Tristen, much to his consternation. “You’re so much more perceptive than he is. Were it not for your eyes, one would never guess you’re brothers.” Before Tristen could respond, Keosqe lightly added, “I confess, I do find your complexion refreshing. I never found the Arvaldins particularly attractive but you’ve made me change my mind.”

Tristen glared at him. “And I didn’t think you were particularly bigoted.”

Keosqe’s eyebrows rose in surprise and, to Tristen’s apprehension, a little displeasure. “I wasn’t aware my taste for certain physical features made me a bigot,” he said, his voice suddenly brittle and tinged with ice.

Heat infused Tristen’s cheeks and he looked down in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he muttered. “I’m just so tired of people saying how different I look from Veare. And if you’d only heard how they used to talk about
Adda
behind his back—calling him
Aba
’s swart mare and making wagers as to whether a dusky arse gave as good a ride as a light one. Granted, it was mostly folk who don’t mingle much with foreigners who say these things, but I had to—have to live with their stupid comments just the same. That’s why I—But there’s no excuse for being rude. Please accept my apology,
Dyhar
.”

He started when Keosqe moved closer, cupped his chin and made him look up. Tristen swallowed when he met the noble’s intense gaze. All Keosqe had to do was turn his violet eyes on him and that was enough to set his heart racing.

“Their comments are unconscionable and ignorance is no excuse for cruelty,” Keosqe said, his swift ire no longer in evidence. “I can’t blame you for reacting as you did. But, tell me, is it only the prejudice you resent or also being compared to Veare?”

Tristen scowled. “Both, I suppose. To be judged wanting because of the color of my skin—! And they mayn’t be so impolite as to say so to my face, but they make their preferences clear when they extol Veare’s graces and then apologetically call me
exotic
.”

He imbued the word with all the veiled condescension of previous commenters on his appearance.

Keosqe frowned. “You make it sound like a pejorative.”

Tristen pulled away. “The way it’s been used on me, it
is
a pejorative. They might as well liken me to some creature from the wetlands of Arvalde.”

“Such small-minded folk are not worth your bile, Tris-
min
,” Keosqe said. “Take my word for it, you’re no less beauteous than Veare. Or delectable.” The youth did not know whether to bristle or blush. “Indeed, I’d venture to say you just might surpass him when you come to your full maturity.”

Tristen scoffed. “You’re saying that because he’s beyond your reach.”

“Nay, I speak the truth. Or do you want me to prove my veracity?”

“Prove?”

“All you need do is look at how your beauty affects me.”

Keosqe raked his gaze roguishly over Tristen’s slender frame. His eyes gleamed with appreciation as they deliberately descended to the youth’s lower body. The heat in his cheeks worsening, Tristen instinctively glanced at Keosqe’s crotch. He gulped when he espied the distinct bulge therein. With a small gasp, he stepped back, his face now burning. The sound of Keosqe’s sultry laughter did little to soothe his raucous insides. He blew his breath out in an effort to calm down.

“I trust you believe me now?” Keosqe said with a smirk.

Tristen rolled his eyes. “For someone who just professed unrequited love for my brother, you’re remarkably resilient lust-wise! But then Veare did say you have quite a reputation.”

“I never let my love for Veare bar me from getting to know other Deira,” Keosqe blithely admitted. “I may have decided to sacrifice my hopes, but I’m no martyr. I find comfort where I can.”

“I’m sure you do,” Tristen wryly said.

Keosqe chuckled. “I’ll get you to like me yet,” he teased.

“I never said I don’t like you,” Tristen protested. He caught his breath when he realized what he’d said. He began to stutter. “What I mean is—I’m not—that is, you’re—”

“What you mean is you
want
to dislike me, but you can’t and that’s tying your tongue in knots,” Keosqe drawled.

Tristen’s confusion over his unbidden attraction to the noble and the resultant frustration and annoyance with himself at feeling thusly had him glowering at Keosqe.

“Why Veare holds you in such high regard, I don’t know, but whatever the reason, he’s obviously overrated your virtues and knowing him so well, that isn’t the least bit surprising, but it is most annoying as you are,
Dyhar
!”

Out of breath from speaking without pause, Tristen was most annoyed indeed when Keosqe burst out laughing after his tirade.

“
Heyas
, but you’re adorable, do you know that?” Keosqe said in between gusts of laughter.

“I am
not
adorable!” Tristen huffed, horrified anyone should think thusly of him.

“That’s for others to say and I say you are,” Keosqe declared. “Far more than your brother ever was at the same age.”

At that moment, Veare reentered the parlor, his letter in hand. He stopped when he saw the two by the window, Tristen all tense and staring daggers at Keosqe. Tristen struggled to bring his irritation under control.

“Is something amiss?” Veare asked, looking at Keosqe, who to Tristen’s ire continued to smirk in that impossibly endearing way of his.

“Nay, we were just reminiscing and I fear Tris took umbrage at some comments I made. Pay us no mind; it was just a fleeting argument, that’s all.” Keosqe gestured to the letter in Veare’s hand. “Do you want to post that yourself or have one of the servants do it?”

“Ver will post it,” Tristen quickly said, walking to his brother. “It shouldn’t be a problem since we’re going out,” he pointed out when Veare stared at him in surprise.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Veare answered. He glanced at Keosqe as the noble joined them. “By the way, I also want to visit the draper. I’m going to buy Khitairan velvet for a new tunic. There’s so much here that isn’t available back home.”

Tristen gestured toward the door. “Then let’s go while it’s still light outside.”

Keosqe said, “If you don’t mind, I suggest we pass by the Rikara Public Hospital first. Eiren is on duty there today. We should catch him before he leaves if we go right now.”

“Eiren Sarvan?” Tristen asked, suddenly excited.

“Who else?”

“Saints! Will you introduce me, Kes-
tyar
? Please say you will.”

“Back to informality, are we?”

Tristen bit back the acid retort he wanted to make and patiently waited for an answer. Grinning with insufferable smugness, Keosqe placed a hand on Tristen’s back and ushered him out of the parlor.

“Of course, I’ll introduce you, Tris-
min
. It isn’t often I get you to plead for something and so prettily, too.”

“I did no such thing!”

Chapter 3

Learning

Tristen’s sense of accomplishment rose tenfold after Eiren Sarvan offered him the chance to apprentice with him when he finished his studies. He silently thanked Veres and every saint he could recall for the incredible coincidence of his brother’s oldest friend just happening to be related to the renowned physician. Of course, he would have to thank Keosqe as well for making it possible to meet Eiren in the first place. And he had to admit it was because of Keosqe’s tacit support Eiren made the offer at all.

He decided to do so the following evening when Keosqe came home after a long afternoon at the Citadel. Though he did not reveal what it was he’d been summoned to the royal residence for, the pinched look on his face brought home the significance of Keosqe’s position in the kingdom’s governance.

All that knowledge about what’s going on in the land must be a terrible strain on him, Tristen thought as he observed Keosqe from his bedchamber door. That the noble cared greatly for Veare was evident in the effort he made to bid his friend goodnight before retiring despite being quite weary in mind if not in body. His manner and pace remained brisk, but his eyes told another story. Keosqe needed to unwind before he could seek his bed.

Tristen wondered how much better off the noble would be if he had someone to come home to. Someone with whom he could share his concerns and vent his frustrations and perhaps ease away his stress through the coupling of their bodies. He did not have personal experience of the efficacy of this last method. However, he’d heard enough from various sources to convince him of it.

If only Veare had seen what I did
.

But his brother had never been one to dig more deeply than he was comfortable with. He was not a bad person by any means. Just absorbed in his own affairs, Tristen had to admit, if he was honest about it.