Page 5 of Noble Charms

Aria cleared his throat, if only to stop them before word got out about the utter lack of decorum displayed by a member of the royal family—technically a prince. If only to stop Sylvia before someone decided her behavior misrepresented elves at large, and the once-conservative Fellowship Elves decided the intermingling of humans and elves need be forbidden again. Elves and humans had been at peace for a hundred years now. Imagine if this open display of lust sent them back to war?

Sylvia and Lord Noble continued undeterred. She asked, “Are you sure you have to go?”

“I suppose I could fight the gods to free myself of my obligation to them,” he replied, his deep, velvet-smooth voice as practiced as any bard. From what Aria knew, Lord Noble had been at the University of Argosin to learn law, not music, and if he’d trained in the arts, he would have crossed Aria’s path before now. But perhaps this voice, this charm, belonged to his lineage. The Sun God left some blessings. Perhaps in voice?

Aria directed the horses and carriage closer to the pair, until a shadow cast over them. He ahemed loudly this time.

Sylvia looked up and gasped. “Aria! Hi. You’re early.” He was not.

“Well met,” said Aria, tilting his head. He released the reins to his mares and said, with a bow, “Sylvia. Nice to see you. And, My Lord, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Aria Charms of Highfell, of the Bardic College of Argosin. I come bearing your ride to New Hieroph City.”

They met eyes, blue to black, and all at once the many noises of the lane faded behind them.

Lord Noble Yves wore no mask at all. He smiled openly, handsome face almost troubling in its perfect symmetry. “Please, my friends call me Noble.” He stepped away from Sylvia and moved close to Aria, and his every step matched the rhythm of Aria’s beating heart. He offered his hand to shake. “If I cared for things like titles, I’d have asked my uncle to send me a caravan.” Uncle. The King. Of course.

Aria looked at Noble’s proffered hand in a moment of hesitation before taking it into his own and squeezing the way humans preferred.

Something settled in Aria, and all the nerves, and all the fears, and all the anticipation disappeared. That’s him, said his soul, and then it too fell quiet for the first time in a long time. Aria sputtered for something to say and asked, “You wish me to address you by Noble?”

“If I had any wish right now, it would be to stay here with her.”

The world rushed back. The noise returned. Aria’s back went stiff as Sylvia sniffed and said, “We said we wouldn’t cry, Noble.”

Noble looked nowhere near tears. He flashed a smile behind himself, at Sylvia, and said, “I guess this is it, then. I’ll write to you. We’ll arrange your visit to the city soon.” Sylvia scampered to his side, placed a kiss upon his cheek, and then stepped away. Noble faced Aria straight-on, black eyes taking him in, and his charming white grin seemed to glow. “You’re my driver for the next week?”

“Not precisely.” Aria collected his thoughts, staring with purpose into Noble’s too-friendly face. Though he hadn’t known the human nobility well, Noble did seem familiar. Perhaps he shared that smile with portraits Aria had seen of the king. He stepped away from Noble and explained. “I’ve a driverless coach that we’ll share. I’ll be accompanying you here, on the opposite bench. Worry not, I’ve mapped stops across the countryside. We will sleep and dine in an inn each evening. It should be a comfortable journey for us both.”

“I see.” Noble hefted a big burlap bag over his shoulder. Aria realized he had no other effects—no trunk, no case—and held his many questions as he opened the boot of the carriage for Noble’s…sack. Noble didn’t notice Aria’s curious examination of the lumpy thing as it was deposited, and he looked over the coach with a narrowed gaze. It had faded paint, but solid, gleaming windows on all four sides, and a roof that was unlikely to leak. “Interesting. Better than waiting weeks. I appreciate your aid. The Crown will no doubt send its thanks.”

“That’s not necessary at all,” said Aria, raising both hands. “I’m doing this for Sylvia.” He glanced over to her, and she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and gave a little wave.

“Sure.” Noble waited by the carriage door, and Aria stepped up to pull the silver handle, opening it for him to inspect. Noble said, “You can send the money back when it comes, I guess.” He plopped into one seat and leaned out the already-opened hatch window. “I’ll write to you soon, Sylv.”

“Please do!” She cried.

Aria climbed into the seat opposite Noble, closed the door, and reached up to ring a bell mounted into the red velvet-upholstered ceiling above. A misty green ghost swept by the door, checking that it was fastened, and then stepped up the footholds to climb into the driver’s seat.

Noble whistled. “Old school. A real phantom carriage.”

Aria sniffed as he buckled himself in with leather straps. Noble had not done the same, but Aria said nothing. No doubt Noble had ridden in many more coaches than Aria and already knew how they worked. “My mother purchased it secondhand as a graduation gift. I wasn’t expecting it. I thought for sure I’d have to spend the summer working to earn train fare to make it to New Hieroph.”

“How kind of her,” Noble said, adjusting the well-worn cushion beneath himself. His thick hair and great height meant his head came close to the velvet above. If he’d donned a hat, it wouldn’t fit. “I’ve never seen one this old. Ghost men have all but disappeared these days.” He gestured towards the front, where the driver tapped the reins for the horses to depart.

Aria schooled his defenses into a passive smile. “Yes. I’m sure there weren’t any new carriages available to her. The village I hail from has one single livery dealer.”

“You’re not from Argosin?”

Aria’s frustration turned to confusion. “No. I’m from the same village as Sylvia.”

Noble’s blank face revealed too much. He’d not perfected his graceful social performance as well as Aria would expect of someone at his rank. Noble picked his words like a child catching falling flower petals from the sky. “Sylvia…is not from Argosin?”

“We’re from Elk Grove.” Noble’s lack of recognition made Aria sigh and he covered it with a cough. “Elk Grove Village is about a day’s journey west of Argosin.”

Noble shrugged and sank into his seat, his long legs taking up more than his fair share of the space. He fished around in his coat pockets, looking quite unbothered by what he did and did not know. “I’m pretty sure she said she was from Argosin at some point.”

“Perhaps she did,” Aria said, lifting his tone to help Noble save face. “Elk Grove elves often say ‘Argosin’ when we’re asked where we hail from, since it’s nearby.”

“That must be it.” Noble found what he had been rooting around for, and pulled out a bag of nuts. He cracked a shell between his fingers, juggled the discards to his other hand, and tossed them out the window without a care for the pedestrians outside. “Would you like a chestnut?”