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It was going to break him. Evemer would not survive this—likely he had already failed to survive it. Likely it had already changed him, and he was only just now beginning to realize. The man who had taken the exams for promotion to the core-guard was not the same one who stood here. That was as true as the knowledge that the man who stood here would not be the one who survived having to watch over Kadou’s children without loving them too hard.
And then, in another bloom of raw sorrow, Evemer thought of his own children, which he would now never have, not by any method, and of his mother, who would never see grandchildren. Kadou might one day be required to swear his fidelity to someone else, but Evemer never would. He would have no children, by love, by law, or by body, and he would be granted no claim on an heir. His line would end, some decades hence, if he were very fortunate, ancient and silent and still in service—perhaps still watching over Kadou’s grandchildren or great-grandchildren. Perhaps living long enough to see Kadou die.
The goddess Sannesi had birthed the world and shaped it, filled it with wonderful things and bright opportunities. But the god Usmim, to keep the balance and to test the mettle of his sister’s creations, sent trials. Some were small and inconsequential—a chance to be kind to a child instead of terse, a chance to help a neighbor lift a heavy box into a cart. But some were as colossal and mighty as immovable mountains.
What might this trial be? What might Usmim be asking of him?Well, little kahya, can you hold your tongue for half a century of the dynasty? Can you serve, and serve well? Can you give your heart anew every day and silently let it be broken, and hold your faith and devotion close and unwavering? Can you endure, and if so, for how long? Shall we find out together?
“Are you all right?” Kadou asked, his smile falling—again like the tide. “Did something happen?”
“No,” Evemer forced himself to say. “Just tired. What were you looking at?”
Kadou shook his head, closing the window. “Just a moment of childish whimsy. I was looking for the messengers. I feel like it’s good luck, on a voyage or on a mission, if someone’s waiting for you at the other end, watching to see you come home.”
“Surely it must be,” Evemer said. He finally got his feet to work and crossed to the divan, sinking down on it. His heart was quickening and, again for the first time in his life, he felt himself holding wordsback. There were so many things he wanted to say that it felt like they had all gotten jammed in his throat. “Do you need any assistance preparing for bed, my lord?”
“Don’t call me that,” Kadou said. Evemer glanced at him, surprised. “Please. Not when it’s just the two of us, not after . . . all of this.”
Evemer ought to resist that. He ought to say that it was his place as His Highness’s kahya to show respect and deference. He ought to try to keep Kadou at arm’s length, as much for his sake as for Evemer’s.
There was no way this could end well.
“Do you need any assistance preparing for bed, Kadou?”
“Would you—you needn’t, if you don’t wish to, but—would you brush my hair?”
Evemer’s heart thudded hard against his ribs. “Yes, of course.”
Kadou fetched the brush and got arranged—Evemer perched on the edge of the divan, Kadou sitting on the floor before him with his back to Evemer’s knees, the weight of his hair gathered across Evemer’s palm like a thick handful of black silk.
“Are you all right?” Kadou asked again, when Evemer was only halfway through brushing. He was making it an exquisitely delicate process, teasing each snarl apart with his fingers before trying to run the brush through. “You’re tense.”
“I’m always tense,” Evemer muttered.
“If this is making you uncomfortable—”
Evemer caught his shoulder. “Let me. Please.”
“You’re upset about something.”
“Nothing that I can do anything about right now.”
“Oh.Oh,” Kadou said, and Evemer could hear the blush in his voice even if the candles didn’t show it.
I don’t expect that I’m going to stop wanting you,he heard, the echo of his own voice. “Not—that. This is something else.”
“You don’t want to talk about it?” Did Kadou sound a little breathless?
“I can’t talk about it.”
Kadou leaned back against Evemer’s knees. “I could—if you wanted . . . Take your mind off it?” He soundedhopeful. What was Evemer supposed to do with that? How was he supposed to resist or deny it?
He really shouldn’t be kissing Kadou. It was only going to make his predicament worse, he already knew that. But what was the alternative? Passing up on his chance, even if it only lasted a few months, and then living the rest of his life not even knowing the taste of Kadou’s mouth one more time, or the weight of him in Evemer’s arms, the lush heat of his skin where neck curved into his shoulder?
It was not even a choice: Eat now, with the knowledge that you’ll starve later.
The next problem, then, was how to sayyes, please.
His heart was fluttering wildly. He could pass up words altogether and just tip Kadou’s head back and meet his mouth. That would almost certainly do the trick.
