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Náli shifted his brows and mouth into an expression that Mattias had always called dangerous, even before his confession, and the kisses. Einrih didn’t gaze on him the way Mattias did, but he wasn’t unaffected, Náli could tell. “I’m having trouble sleeping,” he said in a small, uncertain voice that left him with the sudden urge to laugh. It was an effort to keep his face properly demure.
“The lavender tea–” Einrih began.
“No, that’s no good. I’ve drunk it already. And I think, given how long I slept on the way here…”
Einrih frowned. “But you must rest to build your strength back up.”
“I know. So I was wondering…” He held one hand against the door, and fiddled with the ties of his robe with the other; shifted his weight to one foot and adopted a childish pose. “Does Darri still have some of that blackleaf weed?”
Einrih’s brows lifted, and then lowered. He frowned. “I don’t–”
Think that’s a good idea, Náli could imagine. He interrupted. “Won’t you please ask him? Please? It always relaxes me, and I’m so restless tonight.”
Einrih hesitated, scratching at the back of his neck, making faces. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll go check if he has any.”
“You’re positively indispensable.”
Einrih snorted as he walked away.
Náli waited; watched him reach Darri’s door and rap once, lightly, before letting himself in. Sound filtered out into the hallway, muffled and indistinct, and a warm puddle of candlelight, before Einrih ducked inside and pulled the door mostly to behind him.
Náli had spent his entire life surrounded by his Guard. He’d never known loneliness, nor privacy; had lived always as a fragile ornament encircled by snarling dogs that kept others at bay. They could tell when he was tired, when he was hungry; knew every trick of keeping him hale and healthy, though he’d become more resistant to their efforts as of late. No one had ever addressed it directly, but they all knew Mattias was his favorite – perhaps more than a simple favorite, given their occasional glances. They knew him.
But he wondered if they knew that such knowledge went both ways; that he knew them as well.
He’d suggested Einrih to Mattias for a reason. Asked for Darri’s blackleaf weed for a reason, also. He caught up the tail of his robe and hurried down the hall, walking silently on the balls of his feet.
He paused for a handful of seconds and stole a peek through the cracked door, anticipating what he’d see there. Darri lay across his bed, on his back, Danski between his spread thighs, both of their strong bodies naked and glistening with sweat in the rosy glow of the candles. Einrih had been drawn into things: a hand braced on the edge of the mattress, bent at the waist so he could kiss Darri upside-down.
Náli had first caught the three of them tangled up when he was eight, another stolen glimpse through a partially open door. Then, his face had flamed, and his belly had squirmed, and he’d gone pelting out to the yard to find Mattias and ask him about it. Mattias’s face had turned red and he’d stuttered through an awkward explanation before begging Náli not to tell his mother or anyone else what he’d seen. Seeing them now, Náli felt a stir of arousal, and a hard squeeze of longing. His Guard, though unmarried and childless, perfectly comported in public spaces, hadn’t been able to maintain their vows of chastity. Those three had worked out an arrangement that kept things private and secret between them. Klemens picked his women carefully.
Only Mattias remained chaste. Even when Náli more or less threw himself at him.
With an inward sigh, he continued down the hall, sure that the blackleaf was long-forgotten, and that he had a stolen half-hour or so before anyone came searching for him.
The halls were empty this late, save the occasional servant darting for a rendezvous, none of which did more than squeak in surprise at him, murmur courtesies, and go slinking off into the shadows. The cressets were equipped with enough oil to last the night, and so the way was lit and easy; he was jogging by the time he reached the top of the staircase that led down to the well, holding his robe up off the floor so it didn’t drag. His pulse pounded hard in his ears, more from anticipation than effort, and a fine sweat began to itch between his shoulder blades.
What he was planning was reckless. Was downright stupid. He’d never gone into the waters alone before, without a witness or a helping hand to haul him out.
But, technically, he wasn’t alone tonight, either.
Valgrind was curled up on the near side of the pool, munching cattle bones. The femur in his jaws fell to the floor with a clatter as he bleated a greeting, frills extending, tail flicking back and forth like a cat’s.
Náli bit back the insult that formed automatically on his tongue and walked over to the drake instead. He offered a hand for sniffing, and was immediately crowded and licked in the face, a stripe of cold along his cheek. “Yes, yes, it’s good to see you, too.” He scratched his jaw until Valgrind’s eyes closed and his head tilted in bliss; he puffed pleased sounds through his nose, cold air stirring Náli’s loose hair. “Look. I’ve brought you something.”
From the pocket of his robe, he fished a flaky palmful of smoked trout that he’d secreted away during supper and offered now on a flat palm. Valgrind sniffed it, and then snapped it up with great delicacy, sharp teeth skimming his hand but not breaking the skin.
Náli wiped cold slobber on his robe and shoved Valgrind’s nose away when he started sniffing for more. “No, that’s all. Stop it.”
Amazingly, he did stop; thumped down on his haunches like a dog.
Náli took a moment to look him over properly, now that he could stand on his own. “You are bigger, aren’t you?”
Valgrind shook out his frills and swelled his chest as if to say yes, thank you for noticing.
“Preening beast,” Náli muttered. “Time to earn your keep. I want you to help me again, like you did before. I’m going to go back through the Nágrindr, and I want you to come with me.”
He felt stupid, speaking to a dragon.
