More than once, standing watch over the comatose man, Cormal had considered a very final solution to this problem.
“And yet,” the Prince said, “he lives. Why?”
Cormal shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t you? Or even amidst all of those reasons that you told yourself—that he was evil and a demon and someone that you couldn’t trust—did you actually see the truth?”
Cormal shook his head. “I don’t think you should give me so much credit. Maybe I just knew what would happen if I killed him.”
“Did you? Because I can’t imagine that driving Brannal off was what you wanted.”
Cormal scoffed, and his voice was bitter, “Why not? Everyone else thinks so.”
“Because you love him,” the Prince said simply.
Cormal’s breath caught again, and the tears spilled out this time, coursing down his cheeks.
Chapter Seven
Trill
It had taken four more nights before the pretty man and his partner were back at the pub. Trill blew out a breath in relief when he saw them. Although it had probably been unlikely, they might have decided not to come to the pub anymore, or gotten into an accident, or the pretty man’s pain could have gotten worse.
Trill didn’t want anything to happen to the pretty man.
They sat at the table at first, nursing pints of ale, both of them together, and Trill made himself wait. He could stumble into the table, but it seemed more risky to try with them both there, more likely that Arvus would notice or object. Trill hadn’t seen yet, after all, if they were interested in him. He hadn’t seen them pick up a third more than once, so it might be rare or dependent on if they found someone appealing. Just because they sometimes did it didn’t mean that Trill could assume that falling all over them at the table and wanting them a lot would be in any way welcome.
Trillcouldbide his time. It was not, perhaps, his best skill, or maybe it was more accurate to say that it was not hisfavoriteskill. But he’d learned to be patient with his mother and grandmother (until patience hadn’t worked anymore). Yannoma had helped him learn that sometimes, waiting was what saved your life.
But if you could learn to be patientandlearn when you should act… Well, that allowed you to explore. You could get everything you needed from the world, and you could survive. You could flourish, even. He feared, sometimes, that Yannoma had forgotten what it was like to flourish. But he’d done his best to make her life happier and to make her more hopeful. As he’d learned with his mother and grandmother, though, there was only so much that you could do for another person. Some of it—most of it?—had to come from them.
So Trillcouldwait, and he could be patient when he needed to be. Trill liked to have the odds stacked in his favor. Yannoma had taught him that. He wouldn’t hurt other people, but when he could easily arrange things so that there was a better chance of getting what he wanted? Well, it only made sense to do that.
But he didn’t ever want to make the pretty man or his partner uncomfortable, so he waited. Waited andwanted. There was somuch desire around him. Once upon a time, Trill had needed to learn how it worked, and Yannoma had had so much practical advice for him: what he could do, what he shouldn’t do, and how to reduce the chances of getting caught.
“You need to do this to survive, little one,” she’d told him. “You have to be smart if you want to survive for any length of time.” She shrugged. “Some things are simple. People like sex. But you have to make sure that they think it’s all right tohavesex. They always want it, but they can’t always have it—or don’t alwaysthinkthey should have it—and it can get complicated if you don’t respect those lines. You can always just take what you want, but you might not like what happens if you do.”
He’d appreciated how practical the advice was, a guiding hand but not a grip that was so tight it restrained him. Trill had followed much of the advice, but… not all of it.
He knew exactly what she would say about picking two Mage Warriors as the people that he most wanted in a city with so many people to choose from. But he also knew that her lip would curl up and she would shake her head when he went on and on about how pretty they were, how much he couldhelp.
She knew what it was to be attracted to so many people. She would likely think it smarter to choosedifferentpretty people, but she understood the strength of an undeniable pull.
So Trill waited and watched, and he managed not to cheer out loud when they went out to the dance floor. The pretty man’s limp was more pronounced now—Trill hadn’t been able to touch him in days—but he was still out there.
Trill slipped closer, wanting to see them. Arvus had pulled the pretty man close, back to front so that he was cradling the man, hands on his hips, controlling their movements, making sure he didn’t hurt himself. The pretty man had his eyes closed, lost to the music and the touch of his lover.
Arvus was watching, though, so Trill stayed around the periphery, sliding through other dancing people, shifting through the crowd and drawing in their energy, leaning into a hand here, a body there, letting them touch if they wanted, but not for long, always continuing to move, because he couldn’t be stuck with someone else if the moment came that he could approach who he really wanted.
And then his gaze was snared by the pretty man, who was looking straight at him. Trill felt strangely as though he’d been caught, frozen, held immovable for an unexpected moment.
And then the most wonderful thing happened. The pretty man crooked his fingers. Trill slid out of the grasp of the person he’d been dancing with, already forgetting them, all of his attention on the two men in front of him, on those beckoning fingers. A moment later, Trill was at their side, and the pretty man’s hands were onhiships, and he could feel each finger like a brand, even through his clothes, and it was delicious.
He pushed a thread of energy into each of those fingers, directed them to the man’s injured leg.
“Hello again,” the pretty man said.
“Hi,” Trill said, feeling unaccountably tongue-tied, given that this was exactly what he wanted.
