Chapter Thirteen
Ferrin’s house was nothing like what Wes had expected.
While it was certainly tidy, reflecting a need for cleanliness and order that Wes was only just suspecting might run in the family, there was a touch of chaos as well.
Baskets placed throughout the house burst with scattered sewing supplies, bits of cloth, and cat toys.
The colorful paintings on the walls had obviously been placed there by Ferrin’s submissive, a distractible young man named Silver who kept appearing with pastries, tea, and various cats.
Wes fully intended on collapsing in Ferrin’s spare bed as soon as he could find space between Silver’s probing questions, but he’d barely risen from his seat when someone rapped on the door. Ferrin stood, looking as tired as Wes felt, but the door swung open before he could take two steps.
Louise was just as Wes remembered her; tall and stern, with wide eyes and locs studded with gleaming clasps. She swept in without more than a nod to Silver and grabbed Wes by the shoulders.
“Ferrin sent word that you’d been hurt,” she said. Wes twisted around to shoot Ferrin a scowl, but Louise wasn’t having it. “I came over as soon as I heard. Who needs to die?”
“No one,” Wes said. “It’s been handled.”
Louise frowned, and Delauney made a sound that seemed suspiciously like a laugh. “I apologize,” he said, when Wes and Louise turned to look at him. “You all have the same scowl. Have you noticed?” he asked Silver.
Silver nodded, popping a piece of candy in his mouth. “It’s uncanny.”
“Wesley,” Louise said, her grip tightening on Wes’ shoulders. “Do you have a man?”
“Yes,” Delauney said, before Wes could explain that he didn’t possess anyone. “He does.”
Louise searched Wes’ face, shock in her big brown eyes.
“We might need to talk,” Wes said softly, glancing at Ferrin.
“Delauney,” Silver said, his tone bright. “Have you met our newest cat? Let’s lure him out of the kitchen with chicken, shall we?”
Delauney waited for Wes to give him the slightest nod before getting up. “That sounds lovely.”
In the end, Wes found himself sitting on Ferrin’s porch, watching Louise test Ferrin’s new porch swing while he fumblingly recounted the past few months.
Now that he had a moment to think, even Louise seemed freer than she’d been the last time they’d met.
Something had loosened in all of them, a knot unraveling before the tension could break it.
“Delauney sounds like he’s good for you,” Louise said at last, swinging with her toes dragging on the porch floor. “Even if his parents are fools. The Aviary is better, though. Men are fine, I suppose, but you should always seek to educate yourself. Not everyone does.”
Ferrin sighed. “I’ll get to it eventually, Lou.”
“Three months he’s had the book I lent him,” Louise said. “Three months, Wes. And what did I see on it just now? Dust.”
Ferrin groaned. Wes leaned back in his chair.
It was strange, slipping into the rhythm of their relationship as an adult.
It wasn’t the same. None of them were. But there was an echo there, a familiarity that only came with living in the same house for about a decade.
It was the thinnest thread of a shared experience, but it was still there.
Only they understood what it was to be a Leonhart, and somehow, that was enough to connect them.
“I’m sorry,” Wes said, suddenly. Louise stopped rocking the swing, her feet trailing on the floor. “I let things go on too long. You both tried to reach out to me, I know. But I was so angry for so long, and after a while, it was easier to let everything stay the way it was.”
“You were dragged out of the house,” Louise said.
“I remember. Ferrin remembers. And Ferrin and I have only just started talking again. Really talking,” she added, when Ferrin tried to interrupt.
“Like people who want to. You weren’t the only one hiding from everyone, Wes.
Our brave captain here would have worked himself into a lonely grave if it hadn’t been for Silver. ”
Ferrin looked uncomfortable. “My duties...”
“Can end any time you want,” Louise said. “Tell him, Wes.”
“You really should think about retiring,” Wes said. Oddly, it was easier to join Louise and Ferrin’s camaraderie knowing how new it was. “You’re getting on in years.”
“Spirits, not you, too,” Ferrin said.
Louise smiled at Wes, and something shifted inside him, pain giving way to the foreign pressure of scar tissue. She leaned over and squeezed his hand.
“You’ll write me when you’re in Gerakia?” she asked.
Wes nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Good enough.” Louise idly pushed the swing back and forth with one foot, still watching him. “Now, tell me more about this business with the stars. Thats what I’m curious about.”
They talked until Wes started nodding off, watching Duciel come to life beyond Ferrin’s rudimentary garden. Ferrin finally ordered him to bed, where Wes found Delauney already asleep, sprawled on his back.
Wes climbed onto the bed in his clothes, too exhausted to undress. Delauney moved as the bed dipped with Wes’ weight, eyes opening. He smiled lazily up at Wes.
“It went well?”
“Yes,” Wes said, kissing him fondly. “As well as it could have gone.”
“Good. I like them.” Delauney wrapped his arms around Wes, pulling him close. “I want them to like you.”
“They might.” Wes sank into Delauney’s hold. “What about Ned and Peter?”
“I don’t know.” Delauney sighed. “It’s all rather sad. I just don’t see why Peter cares so much for Lennox.”
“He’s his uncle,” Wes said, yawning. Delauney’s eyes went wide, and he sat up, dislodging Wes.
“What? The uncle who practically raised him was Lennox?” He ran a hand over his face. “No wonder Ned didn’t tell me about it. He must have felt caught between us when I first told him how much I despised the man.”
“Do you think he’ll come around?” Wes asked.
“Not without fighting with Peter, and Ned doesn’t fight.” Delauney’s expression went soft and sad, the sparkle in his eyes fading. “He simply retreats from people if they’re too much trouble. I’ve seen it before. There’s a chance that he may not speak to me again.”
“You can try,” Wes said. “Peter was an ignorant ass, but I won’t stop you from talking to Ned.”
Delauney flopped back onto the bed. “Things never are easy, are they?”
Wes gestured widely. “My estranged siblings are probably talking about me on the porch right now. Trust me, I understand.”
Delauney kissed him softly. “Maybe no longer estranged, one day.”
“Maybe,” Wes said. “And we’ll be in Gerakia soon.”
A weak smile tugged at Delauney’s mouth. “And we’ll never have to keep incendiary supplies in a ship cabin.”
“Or eat navy rations,” Wes said.
“Or try to balance a spectroscope on a swaying deck.”
“Or set fire to the roof by accident.”
Delauney grinned. “And we’ll never go to one of my parents’ balls again.”
Wes kissed him soundly. “Is that a promise?”
Delauney wrapped him in a tight embrace, rolling until Wes lay on his back beneath him, looking up into Delauney’s bright eyes.
“It is.”
***
DELAUNEY DID NOT RETURN to the Manatee.
It was unsettling how quickly the world could move when a king wanted one’s silence.
King Adrien arranged for an advance on Delauney and Wes’ pensions, a team of servants to remove their possessions from the ship, a basket of expensive cheese to be shipped in from Kallistos, and a small retirement party that Delauney graciously declined.
He wasn’t certain that he could stomach another elaborate party after Leo’s disastrous engagement ball.
In the meantime, Delauney and Wes stayed in Delauney’s house in Duciel, planning for their journey to Gerakia. Louise wandered in and out regularly, dropping by with vague excuses and gifts of obscure books, and Ferrin had invited them to dine at his home twice.
Ned had sent nothing. No note, no word, not even a brief message when King Adrien arranged for the command of the Manatee to officially be transferred to him.
Delauney quietly resigned himself to the knowledge that, as delightful as his new life with Wes had become, he would need to leave a vital piece of his old life behind.
“He might come around,” Wes said two months later, as they walked home from a farewell dinner.
It had been held at a small house that Leo had rented solely for the purpose.
Delauney should have enjoyed himself. Silver had been a delight.
Louise had even given them a first-edition copy of a book called The Chorus of the Planets, which had been banned for decades.
Leo had insisted on giving a short, awkward speech that ended with him turning beet red and walking into the cloakroom to burst into tears.
Delauney had left the event feeling singularly appreciated, but that had only made Ned’s absence hurt like an open wound.
Of course, Wes had picked up on it immediately.
“Look at how long it took for my siblings and I to reconcile,” Wes said, holding Delauney’s arm as they walked down the windy streets of Duciel. “It’s possible.”
“I don’t know,” Delauney said. “He nearly gave up his family for Peter, and I’m not family.”
Wes grimaced. “He told me that you were.”
Delauney only sighed. ”You don’t know him like I do, Wes. He won’t risk his relationship with Peter for me.”
The next morning, Delauney felt those words lodge in his throat as he opened the door to find a familiar, looming figure sitting on his doorstep.
Ned de Burre had never seemed tired before.
Even when he’d been wrangling several small children, one of whom had a nasty bout of colic, he’d always seemed relentlessly cheerful, working through the exhaustion and digging out any glimmer of positivity in the wreckage of the day.
This Ned was different. He sat with his shoulders slumped, his hands hanging between his knees.
“Ned?” Delauney asked. Behind him, he heard Wes stop halfway into the hall.