Quincy
There had been such pain in Lord Saran’s voice when he had spoken about his lack of descendants, but the moment his mate... His real mate stepped into the courtyard to make them welcome; he lit up like the sun had come out all at once.
He waited patiently for them to overcome their obvious desire to grab each other and quite possibly do it right there in front of everyone and the gods. It was but the work of moments before Lady Mar of Saran crossed the distance between them.
He nodded, throat tight. She wasn’t happy; the weight of the situation was plain on her face. But she could have rightly been resentful of his very existence, of what he was to her husband now.
Instead, she took him by the elbow to show him around. The warmth of her body made him tense up—it had been a long time since someone had touched him without wanting to take something from him.
Lady Mar introduced him to the butler and a personal maid who was to be at his disposal until Cocal learned the ways of his new home. Quincy thanked her, confused and exhausted in equal measure.
His quarters were generous and facing the ocean, which he was soon to learn was the privilege of the earl’s immediate family. He could guess without asking that, like most higher lords, if the Earl of Saran had any family, they had to be away at the front.
And if he didn’t, well, it would not do to ask them, but the servants were another matter.
It was not his intention to intrude, but it was probably inevitable that he should sense the wave of love, longing and relief that inundated the bond as soon as the lovers were reunited.
He closed his eyes on the day couch and put a hand upon his own heart, eyes prickling.
His alpha was wide open, probably for his other omega’s sake, but it meant Quincy felt his joy like his own too.
He could only hope the other man was too immersed in it to notice Quincy’s own feelings.