Hallowed Bond (Chronicles of Ylandre Book 2) (33 page)

That surprised Dylen. “He has? But whither did he go?”

“A smaller house up Marsden Way.”

Dylen stared at his brother and law-brother. He caught his father’s entreating gaze.

He held Vyren closer, taking in his sweet baby scent.

Drawing a shaky breath, he said, “I want to be happy, too.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Time had never seemed to pass so slowly as it did this afternoon. Or so Riodan groused to himself. And his sire’s presence did not improve matters for Theron’s visit was most unwelcome at the moment.

He only half listened to Theron’s account of some junior diplomat’s mishaps in his first posting.
Since the young fool didn’t precipitate a war in that part of Aisen, why
bother recounting every detail of his blunders?
Riodan thought with irritation.

Realizing he was fidgeting, he stood up and walked to a window to stare at the quiet street below. The traffic in this portion of the north district, vehicular or pedestrian, was not as heavy as in the more fashionable sections farther east. Long minutes ticked by before passersby or carriages came into view. Riodan sighed, chiding himself for his impatience. It was still early, and in any case, Dylen had not specified the exact time of his visit.

Riodan felt his heart start to race as it was prone to do each time he recalled Dylen’s message. The note arrived just after he finished his solitary breakfast, informing him that Dylen would come by later in the day. He had not known a moment’s calm since then.

His correspondence was neglected, lunch was left largely uneaten, an appointment with Eiren was promptly cancelled, and his plan to drop by his parents’ residence on his way back home was discarded. Furthermore, all callers were told he was indisposed or not at home, whichever excuse was deemed appropriate by his butler. Only Theron was sufficiently thick-skinned to be oblivious of his son’s very clear desire not to have company and had insisted on coming up to see him.

He sighed again. It was not charitable of him to resent his sire’s wish to visit him.

Now that he no longer resided with his parents, the times they saw him were considerably reduced. And Theron had not been at all pleased by his decision to move out of the family house and away from the virtual battery of caregivers hired to attend him during his convalescence. Riodan was grateful to his parents for that and had often told them so.

But gratitude could only go so far. Eventually all the fuss and attention became stifling. And being immured in his sire’s residence hardly encouraged a certain Deir to come and see him. Riodan was not so naïve as to believe that was the only reason for Dylen’s failure to visit again after that one time more than a month ago. But it was still one reason too many.

Riodan absent-mindedly scratched the back of his neck—it tended to itch there as his skin continued to recover. The scrape of his fingers against unevenly textured flesh gave him pause, and he pensively caressed the rough patch of skin that peeked out from his collar. What would Dylen make of his scars? A moment later, he bitterly laughed to himself. What reason had he to hope that they would be intimate enough once more for Dylen to see his blemishes, much less touch them?

He almost jumped when the parlor door opened and the butler appeared. Theron stopped mid-story and looked at the servant questioningly. The Deir proceeded to

announce the arrival of His Grace, Dylen Essendri
il
Teris.

Riodan felt the color rise in his face as he gave the butler leave to usher Dylen up to the parlor. He glanced at his sire. Theron’s mouth had tightened, and he looked at Riodan reproachfully.

“Is he the reason you cancelled your visit with us?” he inquired peremptorily.

“Yes,” Riodan tersely answered. Hearing the tread of footsteps mounting the stairs outside, he added, “I have missed him so,
Aba
. Don’t begrudge me this one small joy.”

Whatever Theron would have replied was preempted when the door opened again.

Dylen entered, briefly hesitating when he espied the elder Leyhar. But, though his eyes turned wary, he did not let the latter’s presence deter him. He walked to Riodan who eagerly met him halfway.

For an awkward moment, they looked at each other uncertainly. And then Dylen held out his hand and said, “Am I welcome?”

Riodan clasped his hand and firmly replied, “You always are, Dy.” He turned his head and looked defiantly at his sire. “
Aba
was just leaving,”

Theron’s face reddened slightly, but he did not rebuke Riodan. He stood up, stiffly saying, “Yes, I must be on my way.”

He moved toward the door. But to Riodan’s dismay, he abruptly stopped and turned around and headed back toward them. Riodan held his breath as his sire faced Dylen, his mien worryingly stern. Theron’s throat worked jerkily, as if he found it hard to speak.

The senior diplomat said, “I hope you can forgive an old dog his bad habits, Essendri-
dyhar
. I wronged you, and for that, I am sorry.”

Riodan gaped at him in shock. He quickly glanced at Dylen. His beloved was visibly surprised as evinced by the startled lift of his eyebrows. But Riodan thought he also glimpsed a flicker of respect in Dylen’s eyes,

“Bad habits are the hardest to break, Ambassador,” Dylen quietly replied. “I won’t hold your errors against you if you don’t hold my past against me.”

He held Theron’s gaze. The ambassador was the first to waver.

“Fair enough,” Theron gruffly agreed. He bade them both goodbye and walked out of the room.

Riodan blew his breath out. He glanced at Dylen, his eyes still wide with amazement.

“I didn’t expect that,” he admitted.

“Nor did I,” Dylen said. “But it’s good to have that out of the way.” He ran a searching gaze over Riodan. “You look very well.”

“I
am
well,” Riodan assured him. “And itching to get back to work.”

“Has Eiren given you leave?” Dylen asked as Riodan led him to the hearthside couch. They sat in cozy warmth before the crackling fire.

Riodan shook his head. “He says another sennight or so. It better be for, if he confines me any longer than that, I swear I shall start climbing the walls.”

Dylen smiled. “Why did you move here?” he curiously asked. “Did you have a falling-out with your parents?”

“Nay. But, saints above, Dy! You can’t imagine what it’s like to be nigh smothered with care. They were all but coddling me to death,” Riodan darkly muttered.

Dylen chuckled. Even better, his earth green eyes danced with mirth.

Elated, Riodan said, “You will stay for dinner, yes?”

“I would like that,” Dylen smilingly replied.

The butler returned and served them a light afternoon repast—hard cranapple cider, spiced haronuts, dainty blackgrape leaf rolls stuffed with forcemeat and, to Dylen’s amusement, crunchy Asmaran cracklings and bite-sized batter-coated quintail eggs fried to a golden turn.

“You seem to have developed a taste for southern cuisine,” he remarked as he popped a quintail egg into his mouth.

“Not all,” Riodan mildly demurred. “I don’t mind blood soup and sautéed fish tongues too much—actually, they’re quite delicious. But you will never get me to try roasted ram bollocks!”

“Nay? But it’s considered a great delicacy,” Dylen said. “And purported to do marvels for one’s potency.”

Riodan wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I’m quite satisfied with my level of potency, thank you. And, verily, were I forced to eat so repulsive a dish, I would more likely shrivel than swell up down yonder.”

Dylen burst out laughing. The sound of it thrilled Riodan to the core.

“Why, Ambassador, I never knew you hid a salty tongue behind that demure exterior of yours,” Dylen teased. “Who would have thought it?”

Riodan snorted. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, it was you who got me started down that road.”

“Ah, by dint of my sterling example?”

“Hardly sterling. Really, Dy, some of the terms I learned from you would reduce a worldly-wise harlot to blushes.”

Dylen’s eyebrows rose in tacit skepticism. “And you know this because you’ve bandied lewd words with bawds?”

Riodan hesitated. “Well, actually… yes…”

“You did?” Dylen grinned with abject delight. “For shame, Riodan Leyhar. How came you to keep company with such disreputable company?”

“It was an accident!” Riodan protested. “There was this ball in Qatare. The host actually brought in whores to entertain his guests, but he didn’t inform us of their professions. I thought the Deir I was talking to was only a particularly filthy-mouthed, questionably dressed blueblood and so I matched him jest for bawdy jest. How was I to know he was the premier attraction at the biggest brothel in the city?”

After they laughed over Riodan’s misadventure, Dylen suddenly said, “We got along so well in Asmara, didn’t we?”

Riodan felt his heart go
thump
. He had not expected Dylen to speak so soon of their time together in the southern kingdom.

“Yes. Yes, we did,” he murmured, conscious of how breathless he sounded.

Dylen sat back, a faint smile curving his lips. “Thank you for granting my belated request that we be friends again,” he said unexpectedly.

“You thank me?” Riodan swallowed. “I’m the one who’s deeply grateful. If you count me even as the least of
your
friends, it will be enough for me and so much more than I deserve.”

He nearly choked when Dylen reached across the small distance between them and gripped his hand. Dylen gazed at the fire a while before speaking again.

“Rohyr told me it was more difficult to nurse my resentments than to forgive you and move on,” he softly said. “He was right. I found it easier
not
to keep my distance from

you. The effort it took to stoke my anger far outstripped being civil with you. And I didn’t feel as lonely.” He drew a deep breath then slowly released it.

Riodan turned his hand over to weave their fingers together. When Dylen did not balk, he tentatively asked, “Then… may I assume that you’ve forgiven me?”

Dylen’s smile warmed considerably. “You may.”

His heart beating madly, Riodan assayed another question. “Could you also learn to trust me again?”

“I think I already do,” Dylen admitted.

“Merciful Veres…” Riodan closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow down a bit that he might think a little more clearly. He opened his eyes and looked at Dylen, hope and fear and barely leashed wanting colliding with each other inside him. “And…love?” he whispered hesitantly. “What of love?”

Dylen shook his head. “Nay. That I can’t do.”

Riodan was crestfallen. Swallowing hard, he mumbled, “Of… Of course… That was… presumptuous of me.”

He started when Dylen pulled his hand to his mouth. He mutely stared as Dylen pressed a kiss to his fingers.

“It would be a waste of time learning something I already know.” Dylen looked squarely at Riodan. “What I’ve always known. Don’t you agree?”

Riodan could not speak or move, so thunderstruck was he. But when Dylen’s mouth quirked upward in an affectionate smirk, an irresistible urge to kiss that mouth overtook him. He suited action to thought and, leaning forward, caught Dylen in a kiss that was equal parts emotion and bodily desire.

Dylen suddenly pulled him astride his lap. Their lips met again, parting and slanting against each other in a spate of blistering open-mouthed kisses. The sounds of a coach passing by drifted in through the window, abruptly reminding Riodan that they were in the parlor and not the privacy of his bedchamber. He broke their kiss and touched his forehead to Dylen’s, panting as he strove to catch his breath.

“Perhaps…” he murmured thickly. “Perhaps we should continue in the bedroom.”

“And of course closeting ourselves this early in the afternoon won’t give your butler notions about us,” Dylen remarked with a chuckle.

“Better we leave that to his imagination than provide him with a full show!” Riodan shot back. He kissed Dylen once more. “I wouldn’t care were you someone else. I’ve had servants walk in on me before.”

“Well then, why so shy with me now?”

“Not shy,” Riodan demurred. “I just don’t want anyone else to get an eyeful of your charms, much less a taste of them. I never want to share you again, Dy.”

Dylen blinked in surprise. He bit his lip then met Riodan’s gaze. “And you haven’t,”

he quietly assured him. “Not since the night I revealed myself to Rohyr.”

Riodan stared at him. “But I thought—When you spoke of seducing Malkon, it gave me the impression that…”

“That I’d been bedding others,” Dylen finished for him. He shook his head. “Malkon wouldn’t have had the full benefit of my experience. If it had come to that, I would have found other ways, used other methods save for the coupling of our bodies, to get what we needed from him. Once I no longer needed to sell my services, I became so selective that no one could meet my standards. And then you came back, and my desire awakened once

more.” He reached up to run his thumb along Riodan’s lips. “Truth be told, Rio, even when I tried to hate you, I still wanted you and badly so.”

“Is that why you kept your distance?” Riodan asked, his voice rough.

Dylen sighed. “Among other things. I told you, I tried to hate you as well. The mere sight of you was enough to undo all my efforts. What more your scent, your voice, the mere brush of your hand against mine?”

Riodan gasped as he was suddenly stroked between his legs. He glanced down and groaned at the sight of Dylen’s hand on his crotch, gently kneading the hard bulge therein. With a shuddery exhalation, he pulled away and got to his feet, drawing Dylen up as well.

“Bedroom,” he hoarsely said. “
Now
.”

Dylen softly laughed and let him conduct him thence. Almost as soon as he kicked the door shut behind him, Riodan all but pounced on him, kissing him hard as he started to undress him. He returned the favor.

But when Dylen had him down to his shirt and had loosened its collar, Riodan abruptly stiffened. A deep flush heated his cheeks.

Dylen paused and looked searchingly at him. “Rio?”