“A potion, then?”
“Nope.”
“A freaking stone? Anything?”
“Uh, sorry, sis,” Peytor said.
I groaned again before dropping my head forward to stare at the boys. “Seriously? I have to remember that visual for the rest of my life?”
They both grimaced sheepishly at me.
“Fuck,” I said.
Peytor widened his eyes and pointed at me. “You said fuck! You never say fuck!”
“Yes, well this situation warrants it. Why didn’t you lock your door?”
“Uh, we thought it was locked,” Finian said, still not making eye contact with me.
“You can come farther into the room to talk to us, Ell,” Peytor told me. I shook my head.
“Nope. Nope. I am perfectly good right here, thanks. I don’t know what your bare butts or other parts have touched,” I replied.
We sat in awkward silence for a few moments, none of us making eye contact.
“So, the weather’s nice today,” Peytor started.
“Oh don’t give me that about the weather!” I threw my hands in the air. “How long has this been going on?” I used my hand to gesture between the two of them, finally giving in to my curiosity.
Peytor and Finian exchanged a look before Peytor ran a hand through his chestnut hair, mussing it even further. “Almost three years.”
I was shocked. Completely floored. And I’m certain my face showed that.
“Three . . . years?” I asked quietly. How did I not notice it until now?
“We’ve kept it quiet. Private. It’s hard enough being an Elemental Vessel. But an Air Vessel who’s also a future Lord with a male lover, a Fire Vessel, who is a future cabinet member? That’s taboo enough as it is. Throw in the fact that we’re both supposed to have advantageous Bonded matches and produce heirs? Sure, being gay or bi isn’t prohibited, but with all the other factors in our lives, it sure as fuck won’t be accepted,” Peytor said.
I nodded my head. I got it. I did.
“But if you love each other, what does it matter? You can both produce heirs with your Bond and just be bedmates on the side.” I truly was trying to understand, but Peytor and Finian both scoffed like the question was offensive.
“You really think that our future wives—Bonded Mages—would let us have a same-sex bedmate?” Finian’s question was caustic. His normally soft brown eyes were cold and sad as he regarded me. Peytor turned his gaze to Finian and gave him a tight-lipped smile before grabbing and squeezing his hand. Finian relaxed marginally under my brother’s care, but the tension was still in his body and eyes.
I simply shrugged my shoulders in answer. Maybe I was naive—okay, I was naive—but I really didn’t see the issue. People took bedmates all the time.
“No. They’ll be the pinnacle of high society and female power in Hestin.To have their husband take a male bedmate would be the ultimate social death. Plus, they’re all sharks in disguise. They’ve been raised quite differently from you, Ell, and will do anything to ensure power. Even if that means spying on their husbands, creating gossip and mistrust to eventually take over the territory. No, this is all we can be.” Peytor’s voice was hard, convinced, but full of pain. Finian clutched Peytor’s hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. He used his other free hand to draw soothing patterns on Peytor’s bare back, a motion that caused my normally burly brother to soften completely.
My heart broke for them.
“Oh,” is all I could say.
“We would appreciate . . . some discretion in this.” Finian looked at me expectantly, never ceasing his ministrations on Peytor’s back.
I sighed, “Of course. Who would I tell anyway? It’s not like I have any friends. Aside from you two, that is.”
Finian gave me a sympathetic smile, but Peytor’s gaze was hard. “I mean it, sis. No one. Especially with Lord d’Refan coming soon. We’ll have to be extra vigilant. Finian and I probably won’t even be able to see each other outside of formal situations until he’s gone.”
“You have my word,” I said solemnly.
