“Also…you are tired from your illness, and it is a long swim to your territory,” Tristan continued, each word a carefully placed foot on thin, melting ice. “I can accompany you if you want to check on your territory personally. If you’d have me as a guest, of course.”
Chapter Thirteen
When Austin woke, he felt unusually calm. And hungry. But the hunger wasn’t lethal, just a pang in his stomach that gently asked for filling. Austin washed his face and changed into fresh clothes. He took the time to sit and lace up his leather sandals from ankle to calf, getting the pressure even on either side, then gazed into the mirror as he tidied his hair. Without plaits, it fell to his jaw in silky, silver strands.
Satisfied, he ventured out of his room.
Eli was pacing just outside the door and startled at his appearance. “Sir.” He bowed his head, already braced.
“Austin,” Austin corrected as he breezed past. “I’m eating in the dining hall.”
“Yes!” Eli scrambled off, likely to get the cooks to ready him a meal.
Austin took his original chair from the first day and was picking through a selection of dishes when Tristan joined him. Without missing a beat, Tristan slid into the chair right next to Austin, surveying what he’d eaten, and then studying his face.
Gauging his mood, Austin was certain.
“I’ll meet your brother,” Austin said. He would grant Tristan this request and take the merman up on his offer to help Austin cross the ocean tomorrow.
There was a little red mark on the side of Tristan’s neck, right where Austin had bitten him.
Tristan hesitated.
Austin hardened. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” Tristan’s gaze slid down Austin’s body. To his silver-bound sleeves, exposed flashes of pale skin. From his expression, even Austin’s sandalled feet were an issue. “Hal will…” He hesitated again, then sighed. “It’s not aproblem.”
“Youare the one who askedme.”
“My brother has a weakness for ornamented beauties. It’s second only to his passion for justice.”
Understanding clicked into place. “The issue is he’ll like me?”
There was almost a sulky look in Tristan’s eyes. He leaned in, mouth finding a gap in Austin’s sleeve to brush against the bare skin of his shoulder. Shivers prickled across Austin’s skin.
“Yes. He knows you are here, but I’ve managed to keep your beauty from the reports. Once he sees you for himself, I fear he will plague my estate with visits to deliver all his missives in person in hopes of catching glimpses of you. He is the one person I cannot turn away.”
“Aren’t you stronger than him?”
There was an odd look in Tristan’s eye as he straightened, as if he’d never been asked such a thing, nor considered it before. “Yes…” he answered at length, puzzled by the relevance.
“But he’s your older brother and you don’t like to refuse him?” Austin guessed. The little he’d learned of Hal was enough to see that Tristan was not only fond of his brother from childhood, he admired the man too.
The puzzled look eased, and Tristan nodded.
Austin considered Tristan’s reluctance. He’d been rather demanding of the merman, and Tristan had been incredibly accommodating, truth be told.
“I’ll wear something plain if you like,” Austin offered.
Tristan’s hesitance deepened, his eyes sliding to Austin’s sleeves, the hints of skin beneath silver string.
“Oh, butyoulike me dressed like this too.”
Austin stood with a sharp grin. He caught Tristan’s chin, holding him still as he delivered a swift kiss to his cheek. “In that case, I shall dress exactly asIlike, and you’ll get to look…alongside your brother.” A goading note found its way into his voice.
Tristan caught Austin’s hips with an unhappy rumble.
“I want to visit the market street today too,” Austin added. “The one down by the main docks.” He remembered watching the street through a gap in the boards of the stable. Market stalls lined the street, and all sorts of men and monsters lingered, bartering over a dizzying array of goods. Twice Austin had spied a stall with all sorts of instruments arrayed, and twice he’d been painfully tempted to leave his hiding spot to go and have a closer look. He could always pick out sweet notes that drifted from the stall as customers plucked at strings, even all the way across the rambunctious street.
