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“There are nights when we have to turn people away,” Tyr answered, glancing from one to the other nervously, wondering when they were going to explain why they were thousands of miles from home without so much as a raven to announce they were coming. “And others when we’re washing the same mugs ten times over for the want of something to pass the time.”
“And you, Tyreste?” Asterin asked. “How areyou? Life in the north seems to suit you.”
Tyreste pursed his mouth and nodded. “Sometimes I miss the Westerlands. Even that cursed dungeon in the Reliquary held a certain charm...” He laughed to clear the remembrance of those years. “But my family has never been happier. The tavern isn’t in the red from all the taxes anymore. Pern and her family are moving in the springtide. Rik was just wed last month. Agnes is next. All of them wed to a Vjestik, if you can believe it. I don’t think the Cross quite can. They’re wary of us stranjak.” He rambled on without taking a breath. “Evert has an apprenticeship waiting for him in Whitechurch, and we’re all so proud of him. And Addy...” Tyreste smiled at his hands. “She’s doing really well. A quick learner. She’ll be handling as many translations as me in no time, so I’ll be asking for more work soon. I think she may be leaning toward joining the company when she’s older, if you’re open to it. Oh, and can’t forget Riki, the most resilient cat in the realm. Still as cantankerous as ever.”
Rikard the Mouser purred under the table.
Asterin nodded with a glance at Sesto, who lifted a brow. “It warms my heart to hear your family is doing so well. They deserve all that and more. But Olov already ran down the same list of accomplishments with me. I asked aboutyou.”
Tyreste shrugged, conscious of the flush rising from his neck. “I have everything I need.”
“Rhiain would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t make sure that was true, Tyreste.”
“We both know what Rhiainach is like when she isn’thappy,” Sesto said.
Asterin rolled his eyes with a bracing look, which had Tyr imagining how their journey north must have been.
Tyreste stared at his threaded hands. “What is happiness, if not the absence of worry? Of fear? The knowledge you’ll never want for anything, and your loved ones will never either?”
“You describe security,” Sesto said. He folded his arms over his dark-brown cloak. Though he’d stopped wearing the abbot’s dress when he’d left the Reliquary, his style was still reminiscent of those days. “Which we all need. But it isn’t the same as happiness.” He rapped the table. “Have you a lady friend, Scribe?”
Asterin smirked at him. “A lady friend, Sesto? Really?”
Sesto laughed and tilted his hands outward. “Is that not what you were really asking?”
“If I wanted to know if Tyreste had alady friend, I’d have asked him if he had alady friend.”
“Oh, because you’ve never been vague and cagey about anything, have you, As? Not ever?”
Asterin’s nose scrunched in mock annoyance. “I should have left you and your smart mouth at home.”
“A smart mouth?” Sesto pressed his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyes. “How you flatter me, my liege!”
Asterin pivoted so Sesto was behind him. He forged a smile at Tyreste, as if to say,you see what I have to deal with? “Forgive us. It’s been a rather long journey.”
Tyreste couldn’t help but smile. They were both just as he remembered them, yet also changed for the better, a product of time and circumstance. Asterin was as serious and stoic as ever, but with a playful side he seemed more comfortable indulging. Sesto’s sharp wit was tempered by a maturing confidence, no doubt born of Asterin’s confidence in him. They were business partners but also friends.Hisfriends. The only thing that would have made the reunion better was if Rhiain had come.
Straddling two worlds, Tyreste wondered—for the first time in a long time—if he belonged in either.
His smile faded.
Asterin took another sip from his ale and pushed the mug to the side. “You’re wondering why we’re here. Why I didn’t send word. Why I left my newborn son, three rambunctious toddlers, and a recovering wife, for weeks, to deliver a message I could have sent via raven or courier.”
Tyreste held out his hands in agreement. “I am. Yes.” He glanced at them both. Rikard stuttered a meow. “Happy as I am to see you, I can’t help feeling like this is an ambush.”
Asterin and Sesto shared a look and then Asterin reached under his cloak and pulled out a leather pouch. He set it on the table. Tyreste reached for it, but Asterin clamped a hand over the top and nodded at the drunkards. “They going to be a problem?”
“No, they’re not a problem to anyone except themselves. I picked this table because it was closest to the hearth.”
“Learned that from you, he did,” Sesto said. “But do we not wonder why our Asterin is so versed in the cloaking qualities of a blazing fire?”
Asterin flicked his eyes at Sesto with a grim smile and removed his hand from the pouch. “Tyreste, I’ve asked you before if you speak Vjestikaan.”
Tyreste eyed the unopened pouch. “Yes, and I told you then that I didn’t. I still only know the same few words.” He cleared his throat. “The Vjestik don’t really speak it either. Maybe at home, with each other. But never in here.” He gestured around. “Or around outsiders.”
“Mm.” Asterin dragged his thumb and forefinger along the edge of his chin. “What about the young woman you were spending time with? Ana?”
“You can ask about a lady friend, but I cannot?” Sesto snorted.
