2. A Bardic Gift #3
Noble had not been talked to like this by anyone other than the higher-ranking titles in his family. He crossed his arms, his mounting fury making him run hot, and said, “Right. You’re not. You think you’re better than me.”
“No,” said Aria, stepping forward. “I know that I am.”
Noble barked a laugh that had no mirth. He approached the coach door again and snapped it open. “Glad we cleared that up, then. So much for me doing you a kindness.”
Aria took up his suitcase and climbed the carriage stairs without a word. “If that is what you consider kindness, then I would prefer not to talk for the rest of the trip.”
Noble followed him up the steps and grabbed the boule of bread he’d left for Aria—no more gifts for him. He ripped off a piece. He spoke around the bite, tone fiery, “Sounds great to me.”
Aria didn’t reply.
ARIA
Over the next few days, Aria wondered if perhaps he had spoken too harshly or if he’d acted irrationally. And several times, after staring at Noble’s pouting profile, he concluded: no. He’d been right. Noble was the one that behaved monstrously.
But on the final trek into the city, Aria found himself wishing for a different end to this trip. Every day, the whispering within his heart grew more and more insistent.
It’s him. It’s him. Talk to him.
He couldn’t harbor hatred for someone forever and surely Noble felt the same. They needn’t carry anger or embarrassment into their new home. He and Noble could be civil. Cordial.
“Hey,” he said, voice at a low volume as to not disturb the days-long quiet.
Noble looked from the window and at Aria, black eyes arresting.
Rain pattered the exterior of the carriage, and the clip-clip-clip of the horses outside grew more intense as the road changed from gravel to cobble.
They were minutes away from the final destination: the Grand Central Port of New Hieroph City.
Noble would fetch a tram and Aria would find a livery for the girls.
They’d all go their separate ways. And Aria would be alone again.
“I wanted to say.” Aria paused. What did he want to say? “I hope that we may be friendly after this. It was perhaps not the journey we expected, but it does not have to be all bad.”
Noble took in Aria for a moment, the gray weather making his usually golden skin seem sallow instead. He said, “Is that so.” No question.
Aria sat up, focusing out the windows as the buildings grew ever taller.
Argosin had some towers, yes, but not like this.
New Hieroph’s architecture grew ever higher into the sky, peering down upon Aria in cold, stony judgment.
He swallowed and said, “Truly. I do not mean you any ill will. And I would be happy if—perhaps one day—we could be friends.”
Noble’s scoff hit Aria like a blow against his gut. “Of course you would like that.”
“Please, Noble, I mean to say—"
“You may call me Lord Yves,” Noble corrected. “Aria, we are not friends. I think it’s perfectly clear that’s not possible for us. We’re simply too different, are we not?”
Aria gripped the corners of his official bardic robe, worn for this leg of the trip, as he was introduced to his new home. He squeezed the soft fabric for a moment before he said, “It’s true we are quite opposite. But still. I’m open to… Socializing together.”
Noble looked back out the window, gaze dismissive. “Of course you are.” Of course, he kept saying. Of course, of course.
“Of course what?” Aria asked.
“You realize, now that we’ve arrived, that I belong to nobility and you’re acknowledging the long-term repercussions of being at odds with me.” Noble rolled his eyes, and frowned at the passing shops. “You only care that I won’t ruin the reputation you plan to build.”
Aria, struck silent, swayed with the carriage. The pattering of rain was deafening as he sat watching Noble. He was barely two feet away, but they may as well have been in different kingdoms entirely. “It’s not that,” Aria finally managed to choke out.
“I’m sure.”
“I mean it, Noble.” He paused and said, “Lord Yves. It’s just that…
” Aria had to tear his eyes away. But looking back out the glass window, he was forced to face the beast of the city again.
The many passing people—orcs, elves, humans as he was used to, but also horn-bearers, dragonkin, and gnomes he’d never once seen before—left him overwhelmed.
Aria finally whispered, “It’s just that you’re the only person I know in New Hieroph. ”
Noble didn’t respond to that, because the carriage stopped suddenly, and they both nearly fell off their bench seats. The bell overhead rang three times—the spell dismissed. The ghost driver swept by the door before vanishing. Aria peered up and down the street.
“This isn’t Grand Central Port, is it?”
Noble said, “This carriage probably doesn’t have the most up-to-date spellwork to continue into the heart of the city. This is our stop.” He squinted at the scenery and said, “We’re only a block away anyway. Close enough.”
Aria’s anxiety bubbled in him, leaving him queasy. To Noble, this was just another one of his homes. He knew exactly which block they’d stopped at. But Aria? He stared into the soggy street with horror and awe both. He had no idea where he was.
Noble opened the door for them both, and fortunately, the rain had slowed to a gentle mist. While Noble gathered up his single bag from the back of the coach, Aria held hands above his hair, fruitlessly trying to save the slick back-comb he’d managed earlier.
His eyes then fell upon the livery on the same block, and the leather-wearing attendant who gazed at his carriage with a combination of anticipation and skepticism.
Noble said, “You’ll get more when you submit your address to the Crown.”
Aria spun to face Noble and was greeted with a large bag of coin. He said, “I don’t—"
“Just take it,” Noble said, sounding exhausted. He already looked away, over Aria’s head. “I’ve got to catch the tram.”
Aria took the tightly closed velvet bag—heavy enough to require both of his hands. He did his best to keep his face straight and said, “My thanks, My Lord.”
Noble nodded once, and backed away. They caught eyes. One final time. The cold and wet set into Aria’s hair and skin. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but Noble spoke first. “I hope you have a good life, Aria.”
And then he spun on his heel—the heel of the same boot he’d used to save a spider days ago—and marched off. Aria watched his retreating back until Pinto whinnied, uncomfortable in the damp.
“Sorry,” Aria said, to her, and to Noble, and maybe even to himself. He gathered her and Lima’s reins and started down the block. “Let’s get you to your new home.”