Chapter 3
III
He was forty-four years old, and he was afraid.
Hawk paced back and forth in his room. The sun was setting, and the night was about to begin, and with it, the announcement of his apprenticeship.
He’d donned the robe he requested from the seamstress, and it didn’t sit on him quite as favorably as it had on March.
Of course. March was a marble god and Hawk was—well. Skinny.
He looked at his hair again, and ripped it from the short braid he’d done. He knew no other styles, but he couldn’t wear it down. It didn’t flow through the air like the other elves—it was limp. And not nearly as shiny.
Hawk’s feet took him to Angel’s door before he decided he better not. He knocked twice. A moment later, Angel answered, looking sleepy. Hawk gasped. “Sorry. So sorry, Angel. Did I wake you?”
“It’s alright; I should be up. Come in.” Angel stepped back.
Hawk entered, less surprised by the interior this time.
His first time to Angel’s room, he’d been startled by the sheer number of pillows.
White ones. Humans believed angels slept on clouds, right?
Angel’s room may have been the source of that belief.
Angel sat on his vanity chair and began to comb out his curly hair so it was straighter, shinier. Hawk bit his lip before he said, “Could you do that for me?”
Angel met his gaze in the mirror. “Do what?”
“My…my hair.”
Angel’s eyes fell down Hawk’s hair, then back to his face, and he smiled. “Yeah. Come here.”
Hawk walked over to Angel’s vanity, and Angel gestured for him to sit against the countertop. Angel stood up to brush his hair with his fingers at first. “What oils have you been using?”
“None. I have none.”
Angel met his gaze. “You can have any you want, you know. Sutaire will fetch them for you—we’ve plenty of runners for that stuff.
” Hawk didn’t say I should be one of those runners, not one of you, but it must have been evident in his face, because Angel rolled his big blue eyes. “Elys above. You’re a mess.”
“Yes, I know. Please help,” said Hawk, and he meant it.
“You’re so riled up. Because of the announcement? You don’t need to be so nervous.”
Hawk felt his stomach twist. “I’d just like to look a little like I belong. I don’t want him to regret seeing me there.”
“Who? March?”
Hawk’s face warmed and he avoided Angel’s gaze. He looked out over the fluffy white room instead. Did Angel nap just—anywhere? He could.
Angel scoffed. “Please. March would be happy to have you up there in a potato sack with lube-stained hair. I mean, if it weren’t for the rules for us to kiss, I’d think he’d take the first opportunity to kiss you in gratitude for bringing some excitement around here.”
Hawk snorted, then paused, then said, “What?”
“I mean, he’s been at this job for so long. Lounging about doing nothing can seem luxurious, but after a time…” Angel used a brush to gently part Hawk’s hair, and he put it into separate pieces at the front, then back. “Like I said, I bet he was bored. At least you’re something new.”
That wasn’t what Hawk meant. He stared at Angel for a time before he said, “There’s a rule about…kissing?”
Angel raised an eyebrow and began to comb through Hawk’s hair with purpose now, styling it with the side part.
“We adame are not allowed to kiss one another. Surely March mentioned that.” Hawk’s eyes widened marginally.
Angel giggled and leaned in to say, “I know; you’re terribly upset you’ll never get to taste my tongue. ”
How was that possible? There was a rule against kissing?
They had kissed. He and March had kissed many times, again and again.
Hawk pulled at the memory of their first time together, the same way he had for the last week.
“May I kiss you?”
March’s stony expression. The gentle way he asked, “You want to kiss me?”
Hawk nodded yes. Please.
“I would like you to.”
March hadn’t said yes, because Truth wouldn’t allow him to. Because Hawk wasn’t permitted to kiss him. No, what March said meant—
That meant—he’d circumvented the rules just to let Hawk kiss him. He’d circumvented the rules to let Hawk join Sutaire. He’d spent the last week tending to Hawk knowing he’d never be chosen as March’s apprentice.
“There. Take a look,” said Angel, stepping back. He pointed to the mirror.
Hawk hopped off the vanity and turned to see himself. His hair looked thicker. Shiny. It swayed when he turned his head and he said, “How…”
“Oils, Hawk.” Angel hopped up, placed a hand upon his shoulder, and kissed his cheek.
Hawk gasped, slapping a hand over his skin. “You just said!”
“Please, that was a cheek kiss. It doesn’t count. And besides.” Angel’s eyes turned sharp; a darker blue. “You’ve learned to bend the rules a bit already, haven’t you?”
Hawk’s stomach swooped. He and March had kissed. That idiot had let Hawk kiss him—openly—in the lounge. The fire had been put out, but if someone happened to come by with a lantern? Someone like… Angel.
By Elys. Hawk was going to cost March his entire career. “How many know that we…”
Angel giggled and spun to his wardrobe, pulling out his outfit for the announcement at dinner.
“March is lucky I favor him so; you’re lucky I find you so terribly cute.
That’s all.” He dropped his sleeping robe—the smooth pale expanse of his ample backside flashing across Hawk’s eyes before he turned away, flushed.
“There’s plenty of magic in this place to collect what people say.
” Angel said, “I’ve interfered before. I probably shouldn’t do it again; interfere with what news Lovey gets sent to review.
You know?” He shot a glance over his bare shoulder.
Hawk, understanding the suggestion, nodded once. And then he said, “Thank you, Angel.”
Hawk counted the coin he’d earned since arriving.
Forty the first day, then twenty more had been deposited each day.
He had one hundred and eighty—an absurd amount to have earned in so little time, and for so little work.
He’d been paid to sleep on a luxurious, fluffy bed, in the arms of one of Sutaire’s most expensive consorts-for-hire.
He’d been paid to kiss March until he fell asleep.
“Fuck. Shit.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was such good money, and it came so easily.
A hundred and eighty coin could last him a full year if he was careful with it.
He reached up to tug at his hair, but found his fingers sliding through it—the texture silken and soft.
That made him all the more frustrated. He kicked at the vanity chair inside his room.
It toppled with a quiet thump, and he didn’t feel any better.
He heard distant voices begin to chatter.
He had to hurry.
Hawk arrived at the tail end of dinner. Most of the other adame were still present—Angel sat in a corner, laughing with a few of the girls, and Lovey and Reeves sat together and jolted expectantly when Hawk arrived. Lovey hopped off her stool, grinning.
“Well, don’t you look nice?”
“Yes, I—yes, thank you,” said Hawk, turning his eyes down himself, at his fine new robe.
“You seem nervous. It’s quite alright—trust me when I say that it’s for the best.”
Hawk nearly choked on the words as he said, “I’m sure that’s true, but I need to speak with you on this matter first.”
“Can it wait?” She stood tall to look over the room.
“We should make our announcements; it’s already getting late.
” She flagged a hand, gathering the attention of everyone in the room.
Hawk’s heart tightened in his chest as he looked over everyone.
March was not there. Hawk spun in a circle, checking that he wasn’t at one of the smaller bistro-style tables in the back of the dining room.
Lovey snapped her fingers with one hand and held a missive with the other and said, “Alright, my beauties, let’s start with the good news—Hawk, our newest recruit, is officially an apprentice of Bren. Give them your congratulations.”
Several of those present clapped, but Hawk could scarcely hear them; could barely feel his feet standing beneath him. “No,” he said.
Lovey hadn’t heard him, and continued on, reading from her note, “I’m also happy to say we’ve managed to find more of that delightful jasmine tea that disappeared from the city some time last year. You’re welcome to as much of it as you’d like. And, in less happy news—”
“No,” Hawk interrupted, more firmly—loud enough that he couldn’t be ignored.
Lovey blinked a few times behind her round glasses.
Reeves swept up behind Hawk and said, “Let’s discuss this in private.” He shot Lovey a narrow-eyed stare and said, “Told you.”
Lovey sighed, frowned, and said, “Fine, then.”
“I offer you my apology,” said Hawk, more firmly now. He looked between Reeves and Lovey and said, “I cannot go through with this.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” said Reeves, and the way he said it—utterly unsurprised. Could he read minds? Hawk suspected he’d a great skill with magic. He certainly had a wizard’s gait. “Come on.” He pushed at Hawk’s arm, out the doorway, to the corridor. The office was only one door down.
Behind them, Hawk heard Lovey say to the dining room, “Two more weeks before another open call. If you know anyone interested, tell them now’s the time.
Because the other announcement—the other sad announcem…
” Her voice closed off behind the office door, and Hawk stood opposite Reeves in the narrow space.
Reeves sighed, and made his way to the desk chair, and motioned for Hawk to sit on the other side of the desk.
He did so, heart thundering. “Reeves, I am sorry, but I have to quit. It’s not even that I want to, but I have to.
” He felt feverish as he said, “I was never really suited for this from the beginning, I don’t think. ”
Reeves sat back in his chair, his thin face even more severe-looking in the few dim candles lighting the room. He huffed a laugh, though, and began to spin a pen between his fingers. “In a way, Hawk, I think you may be too suited for this.”