Chapter 14: Alert

For the most part, the suitors are extraordinarily boring.

Before, Emrys kept his distance from the courting gentlemen for his own sanity's sake. The last thing Emrys has needed is to work himself into a jealous fugue state and end up snapping at some witless rich boy just because the guy dared to look too long at Aesind's fine behind.

The past couple days, Aesind has been fully occupied with his guests. Emrys has been joining the entire group for breakfast, watching them carefully for any transgressions. Aside from Aesind's tension around Reeves, though, they seem awfully normal, if a little eccentric in the case of Mister Nolan. He's loud and obnoxious at all times, and controlling him takes much of Aesind's attention. Emrys can tell Aesind is fully done with Nolan by breakfast on the second day.

After breakfast, Aesind announces his schedule for the day. He divides up his time equally amongst the suitors to give them all ample opportunity to get to know him and win him over. He declares who gets which slice of his time doing what -- or decides that the suitors ought to make the plans to test their capabilities. The system prevents the suitors from interrupting each other's time (for the most part), but it also makes it clear that Aesind is giving every single one a fair, fighting chance so that none of them can complain. Their time slots rotate, too, so Aesind can observe them at different times. Some folks just aren't morning people, so it's only fair to let them show off later in the day. Emrys is excluded, of course. He isn't courting, so he doesn't have the same rights to Aesind's time.

Emrys ignores the sting. He knows Aesind will find him in the evening after all his other appointments are done. And he knows that he's Aesind's refuge if he needs an excuse to get away for any length of time.

In between, Emrys finds himself with plenty of idle time on his hands. He wanders about the manor with his sketchbook in hand, stopping to doodle this and that. It's a good camouflage, one that allows him to blend into the background just about anywhere. The suitors have acknowledged his presence, but they mostly ignore him.

Their arrogance works to his advantage. Emrys creeps about without even needing to hide around corners. He observes the suitors in their off time, watching the way they poke about the library and explore the gardens and occasionally chat amongst themselves. They're stiffly polite with each other. It's difficult to tell whether they know each other beyond formalities. All of them seem to defer to Reeves, falling silent when he speaks and giving him first choice of seats, snacks, and drinks. From what Emrys can glean, Reeves's patron outranks the rest; even if he has a lower station than the others, that alone is enough to buy their deference if not their respect.

Political machinations are at work. Their conversations are littered with it. Even Mister Keyes, the kindly gentleman with the sweet face, participates. All four suitors are vying for a greater position in society. Emrys knew on an intellectual level that the suitor arrangements are part of a larger political chess match between dozens of powerful parties. Seeing it up close in motion is entirely different.

It makes Emrys sick. Aesind and Archimedes deserve a real relationship with someone who loves them for who they are as people, not an advantageous alliance with someone they can tolerate.

Unless that's what they want. It occurs to Emrys, watching Misters Nolan and Rischer debate the merits of their schooling from a balcony above the terrace, that he has no idea what Aesind is looking for in his suitors. It's entirely possible that he and Archimedes want a match with advantage. Someone who can help them with the ghoul problem, earning more support from the wider godkin society, gaining further prestige outside their existing circles... It's possible.

Gods, Emrys hopes not.

Emrys shakes himself. He snaps his sketchbook shut, leaving his bird's-eye sketch of the gardens unfinished.

None of the suitors have done anything particularly suspicious. They're just playing the game as designed. Emrys can't fault them for that.

He heads back inside and checks the time. Half past three -- Aesind will be between appointments now. Dinner will be around five, after which he's having dessert with Mister Reeves. There's a very good chance that Reeves will sap the remainder of Aesind's energy for the day, so Emrys figures they won't spend time together tonight. He decides to seek Aesind out to see if he'd like company to decompress before finishing out the day strong.

There are only a few places Aesind will disappear to. With suitors in the garden and the library being too open for opportunists, Emrys heads to Aesind's music room.

Sure enough, the sound of a piano drifts through the hallway. Emrys smiles as he listens to the song. It flows like water with a harmony that reminds Emrys of birdsong or sparkling mist. He cracks open the door carefully, not wanting to interrupt or startle Aesind.

Sitting at the piano, Aesind's back is to the door. His head is tilted to the side, not watching his hands as they dance over the keys almost absent-mindedly. His gaze is unfocused, vacant. Aesind is far, far away, drifting in his mind atop the river of song flowing from his fingertips. A pile of sheet music sits on the bench beside Aesind, but none is propped up on the piano's shelf. This is a song played straight from the heart.

Emrys watches for a moment in silence. Then, slowly, he shuts the door again. He wants Aesind's presence, but he's never seen the pretty man so deep in his own mind before. The last thing Emrys should do is yank him out of that space. Aesind deserves to think in peace. They can talk about it later, if he wants.

Instead of bothering his host, Emrys wanders back down the hallway. He supposes Ash will be out in the gardens, following suitors around the winding paths to gather any amount of information they can. Perhaps he could find them and compare notes.

Emrys descends the main stairway. He rounds the corner to the doors leading to the gardens and comes to an abrupt stop.

"Ah, there you are," Mister Reeves says as though he's been searching endlessly for Emrys specifically. He smooths a hand over his perfect, stiff yellow coif. The tone he uses is amiable enough, but it's painfully obvious he doesn't care much about being friendly. "Mister Symmonet, yes?"

"Uh. Yeah." Emrys clears his throat and offers a polite hand. "Emrys Symmonet. You're Erich Reeves, right?"

"I am." Reeves shakes Emrys's hand with a limp sort of carelessness. He lets go and makes a gesture at the brace holding Emrys's shoulder together. "Still injured, I see. Are you not finished wearing that?"

Emrys touches the stiff fabric. His mouth twitches into a mild frown despite his best efforts. "Unfortunately, no. It's improved, but it still needs more work before I can go without the brace."

Reeves hums. "I see. How unfortunate. I presume you've stayed to continue your healing, then. I do hear Illala is the finest doctor in the region."

Something in Reeves's voice grates on Emrys's nerves. It isn't quite nasal, and it's so mild and neutral that it shouldn't bother him in the slightest. But there's something about this guy that naturally irritates Emrys.

"She is," Emrys agrees, holding his irrational temper in check. "And I have, yes. His Lordship has been kind enough to allow me to stay for my recovery."

"Well, I do hope you recover. You can hardly fight in that state, after all, and the Golden Valley needs all the fighters it can get at the moment."

Emrys's jaw twitches. "That's true. I hope His Lordship's meetings go well. The people rely on him and the other nobility to protect their homes."

Reeves makes another noise of vague agreement. He's still standing in Emrys's way, hands clasped casually behind his back. Every second Emrys spends in this man's presence is far too long.

"Well, if you don't need anything further," Emrys says, stepping to the side, "I'm going for a walk before dinner. Good afternoon, Mister Reeves."

Without missing a beat, Reeves steps with Emrys to block his path. He smiles thinly. "It really is such a shame you were injured. By ghouls, yes? How incredibly lucky to have been so close to the manor."

Again, Emrys suppresses his irritation with difficulty. "Yes, it was by ghouls. We'd been tracking them for a while and chased them further west than expected. I didn't realize it was His Lordship's land until I woke up here."

"Under Consort Aesind's care, yes?"

Emrys's eyes narrow. "Yes."

"He is quite the host."

Emrys doesn't reply. His hold on his temper is slipping with each word Reeves utters. He needs to get ahold of himself. It would cause problems for Aesind if he started a fight like this, and especially with Reeves. The thought of Aesind having to break out of his peaceful reverie to break up an argument that Emrys started instead of enjoying a few hours to himself is a cold bucket of water on Emrys's anger.

He takes a breath.

"I have heard," Reeves continues, tawny gaze feigning boredom as he examines Emrys's reactions, "that you and the Lord Consort spend ample time together. It makes a man wonder your motives, Mister Symmonet."

Emrys forces himself to take another breath.

"Lord Consort Aesind is my friend," he says evenly. "We spend time together because we enjoy each other's company. Hardly anything for you to concern yourself with, Mister Reeves."

"Oh, but I am concerned," Reeves says with anything but concern. His chin lifts. "You see, I fear you have unsavory motivations. Surely you realize your attachment to Lord Consort Aesind is doing more harm than good. Dividing his attention as you have been is rather selfish."

Emrys bristles. Has he really been so obvious that someone like Reeves could see his affection for Aesind?

Reeves's head tilts. He scans Emrys again carefully. Watching, waiting. Looking for a particular reaction.

It's a shot in the dark, Emrys realizes. Reeves thinks Emrys feels something for Aesind, but he doesn't know what exactly it is or what the extent is. He's heard about their time together but hasn't seen it firsthand. He's trying to get a rise out of Emrys to confirm his suspicions. For what reason, Emrys isn't sure. Jealousy is the most obvious motive, but Reeves's demeanor is flatly arrogant. There's no possessiveness to him at all. He really doesn't even seem to care about Aesind at all. So why? Just to have the information?

It doesn't make sense. Reeves is a political man. What does he want to gain?

"If our friendship is threatening to you, Mister Reeves," Emrys says, emphasizing his words deliberately, "I'm afraid you're not much of a suitor. Lord Consort Aesind divides his time evenly amongst you all. Surely you don't require his off-time to be spent in solitude. That would be awfully selfish."

Reeves doesn't rise to the bait. Rather, he gives Emrys another thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Of course not. I simply wish to ensure you realize the situation at hand fully."

"Of course," Emrys replies with a barely-suppressed sneer.

Reeves takes half a step closer. Emrys bristles again, ready for an attack, but Reeves just leans in and lowers his voice.

"Beware reaching above your station, Mister Symmonet," he murmurs flatly. "Know your place."

With that, Reeves shoulders past Emrys, leaving the hunter standing there, staring out the glass doors leading to the lush gardens. All the irritation Emrys suppressed rises at once, tensing every muscle in his body. A sharp pain lances through his shoulder. He grips at it with a hiss and forces himself to relax again.

Emrys takes a few deep, smoldering breaths. Then, with determination burning in his eyes, he marches out into the garden. He won't bother Aesind with this yet. Aesind still deserves his scant two hours of peace. For now, he'll inform Ash and blow off a bit of steam in the privacy of the thick and wild hedges further out.

Besides, he needs to collect his thoughts before warning Aesind about Reeves's prying. If he's going to explain what happened without revealing his feelings in the process, he needs to put his thoughts together properly.

If he endures the teasing and knowing stares, Ash might help with that, too.