Chapter 7
Chapter seven
“Is there anything better than tea and an excellent book?” - from the diary of Oren Byrne, age nineteen.
Istared at Lord Abnus, trying to keep the stupid smile off of my face, but it was so hard because my heart was soaring at the mere sight of him.
After we’d gone inside, Mother had become distracted when one of my nieces had called for her, Whit and his wife had disappeared, right behind her, and Sevrin had given me a wink before leaving me alone with Lord Abnus.
All of my brothers knew of my unrequited attraction to the fae lord, and of course, Sevrin had decided to help.
Ensconced in the private nook we’d claimed when I was the heir, I looked at Lord Abnus, unable to glance away, even when a footman brought a tea tray. Nothing would deter me from him.
“How have you been, Mr. Byrne? Careful? Not ill at all? Not the slightest bit injured?” Lord Abnus asked, fingers leaving the arm of the chair for a moment before returning to their place, as if he’d been reaching for me and had thought better about it.
The smile I’d been fighting slid over my features, and I closed my eyes, heart racing.
No doubt, I was being ridiculous, and yet I hoped he did indeed wish to touch me as much as I did him.
But it was more than that. Lord Abnus had always fretted over me.
Worried about the silliest things, like me catching a chill or that I’d burn myself on my tea.
It was nice to see that he hadn’t changed during our separation.
“Mr. Byrne?” Lord Abnus asked, forcing me to open my eyes. His expression was unaltered, but he was leaning toward me, halfway out of his chair.
“I’ve been quite well. I’ve found a deep love of maudlin poetry in the last couple of months,” I replied, taking a sip of tea.
“Indeed? Tell me of it.” He regained his seat and collected his tea.
I shook my head, and a tiny frown curled his lips down.
I rested my fingers on his wrist for the barest moment, relishing the chill emanating from his smooth skin.
I wanted to trail my fingers over his prominent knuckles and his long fingers, but I didn’t—no, I respectfully removed my hand, like I should, but it fair about killed me.
“I wish to hear of your time in the Night Court, Lord Abnus. I haven’t seen you since the wedding, and we only spoke but a few minutes,” I said.
“I did nothing that you would find of import,” he replied.
He believed that, obviously, since he couldn’t lie, but it wasn’t the truth, or my truth, more accurately. I’d find anything he did important.
That was the trick to fae trickery. They couldn’t lie, but the truth was a subjective thing that was fickle as the wind. It changed depending on things as basic as the time of day to the person’s mood. No one wielded that subjectiveness as a weapon as well as the fae did.
“I want to know,” I insisted.
Lord Abnus said, “I spoke with my parents. They are well. I tended to my own lands, putting everything in order, before returning to my aunt’s palace. We discussed matters of trade that I will eventually bring in front of Lord Byrne, once Cethin releases him.”
“Tell me of your home.” As much as we’d talked in the past, Lord Abnus hadn’t spoken a lot about himself. I didn’t think it was because he was being intentionally mysterious; more that he saw his own self as boring and that he would rather listen to me.
Having such an avid listener was gratifying and exceedingly attractive. I often found myself bowing to my family’s whims, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people as well as the level of noise. Finding my voice with another wasn’t easy, but with Lord Abnus, there were no such difficulties.
“It’s near the mountains. The ground is always covered in snow. I have a small castle with a sizable garden and orchard,” he said, voice deepening. “I love it dearly, and I only find one other sight in this world more lovely.”
“I wish I could see it,” I replied.
“Perhaps someday.”
“Maybe Aidan and Cethin will take me to the Night Court.” That was possible. Aidan probably wouldn’t mind me traveling with them, right? I shook off my doubts. Just because some things had changed didn’t mean our fundamental relationship had altered.
“Perhaps,” he repeated. “Now tell me of this poetry and the other things you have read.”
I stood to snag one of the volumes I’d finished, handing it to him. “I quite liked this one.”
Lord Abnus cracked open the book, his eyes flicking over the words. He was much better read than I, which was hardly surprising as he was far older, though I couldn’t even begin to guess his age.
“Why this one?”
“Sevrin recommended it,” I said, then took a sip of my tea. “It was popular when he was going to school. Much of my education will include poetry or fiction, and I wish to be prepared.”
“Education?” Lord Abnus asked, setting his teacup down with a harsh clink.
“Yes. I quite forgot, you wouldn’t have heard.”
“Heard what?” he demanded.
“I’m to attend Wellington. Aidan is paying for me to go, and now that I’m not the heir, I can.” I’d talked of my dream to him, more than once, and Lord Abnus had always nodded, listening.
“I wasn’t aware you were planning on going.”
“I’m excited,” I said, leaving out the deep chasm of nerves churning in my gut.
“When do you leave?”
“In the spring. Nevan and Neil will escort me to town.”
He took a single breath before he said, “I’m happy that you are getting your dream, Mr. Byrne. You deserve everything that you want.”
I smiled, making sure not to thank him for his kind words. To thank a fae was to acknowledge a debt existed between you and them. I trusted Lord Abnus not to take advantage of me, but still, I wasn’t so foolish.
“All of my brothers except Aidan have gone, and I cannot wait until I go myself. I will, of course, receive general education, but I’ll have to decide what I wish to learn beyond that. Perhaps I could be a scholar of the classics, or a solicitor? Law has always held a fascination for me.”
Lord Abnus nodded, simply listening as he always did, but the skin around his eyes was tighter and his mouth tense in a way I’d never seen before. Was he ill? I was unsure if fae became sick in the traditional sense.
“Aidan said he would support me for as long as I want to go and for as much schooling as I desire,” I comment. Aidan was being more than generous with his funds, by being willing to support me for as long as I desired.
He glanced toward his knees and took a deep breath before he faced me, asking, “How long do you intend to stay away?”
“Four years at least,” I replied, my gut roiling.
I’d never been away from Sídhetír for any length of time, let alone four whole years.
A chance existed that I wouldn’t come home either, depending on my school schedule and course load.
In the past, my brothers had visited only infrequently.
There was also the matter of social engagements in town.
It could be quite some time before I saw my home.
Or Lord Abnus, I thought, staring at him.
I’d missed him these three months, though little sense was behind the emotions aside from the blooming affections for him. What would it be like to go four whole years without laying eyes on him once? I wasn’t sure I wished to think on such an emotion.
“Four years,” he repeated. “That is a significant amount of time for a human.”
I chuckled. “For a human. Four years must be nothing to you.”
“Not nothing.” Lord Abnus stared at me, eyes flicking over my features. “Definitely not nothing.”
“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked. Perhaps he wasn’t as old as Cethin. Aidan had mentioned that Cethin was ancient, but he’d never elaborated on exactly what that meant.
“Why?”
“I’m curious,” I admitted. “You know so much about me, and I find my knowledge of you quite lacking.”
“I will tell you whatever you wish to know, Mr. Byrne. I shall have no secrets, except what is necessary, from you.”
I swallowed as warmth rushed to my cheeks, probably turning them quite red. “Then how old are you?”
“I don’t know. Once we reach adulthood, we noble fae are no longer concerned about our age, as we live forever.
There’s also the matter of our realms moving at different paces.
There is no comparison.” He gave me the slightest quirk of his lips, and I nearly swooned like a twitterpated fool.
“I don’t know how old I am, but I’m not quite as old as Cethin, though it’s not by a significant amount. Maybe less than a handful of years.”
“So you’re ancient compared to me?” I asked.
“You can say that. Time is relative, and I’m unsure of how our different ages matter.”
“They don’t,” I lied.
They did. Of course they did. How could they not? Lord Abnus was far older than I, and I worried those years could never be overcome no matter how hard I tried. But in the end, it wasn’t his years that would keep him from me—it was the fact he didn’t care for me as I cared for him.
“Tell me about the last two months,” Lord Abnus said. “Do not leave any detail out.”
I could think of several things that I wouldn’t be telling him about, namely James, but other than that, I humored him. Per usual, Lord Abnus nodded every once in a while, drinking his tea, as he listened to me.
As the afternoon lengthened, we drifted to other topics, such as reading or Lord Abnus’s love of sketching.
In the past, he’d shown me several of his different sketches, usually detailed diagrams of flowers, insects, or trees, but occasionally, he took a fancy to a scene and would draw its likeness.
A knock rapped on the bookshelf near us, and I started. Lord Abnus half-stood, hand going to his right arm. Sevrin leaned against the shelf, watching us with a smile, and Lord Abnus returned to his previous position.
“Sevrin,” I said, my voice tight as my heart slowly returned to its normal speed. “What ever is the matter?”
“Hester was looking for you. It’s time to dress for dinner.”