3. A Warm Season #3
He looked over the platform at the other passengers, to find one that also wore a watch.
Not just any watch—he needed a reliable orc-made, like his own.
Noble's eyes moved from person to person, until he found a man wearing a dark brown seersucker suit.
His watch, also gold, winked as he combed his hands through the long blond hair of his apparent lover.
They were kissing—touching all over, in fact, as they said farewell.
The woman's pale hands held onto the shoulders of the suit, and she stood on the tiptoes of her soft-looking brown leather boots to reach.
She was slight, pale, and her elven ear was revealed as the man trailed kisses along her jaw.
Some odd sense of familiarity made Noble peer closer. The man pulled back enough to flash a smile at the girl, and Noble snapped his fingers. “Ellor Abante! I thought I recognized you.”
Ellor jolted back, honey brown eyes widening in alarm, but when his harried gaze met Noble's, he relaxed. And laughed. “Why, if it isn't Yves St. Clair!” Smiling, he walked to Noble, and held out his hand for them to clasp together in familiarity. “Well met, old friend.”
“How are you, old dog? I didn't realize you'd finally found an attachment.” Noble looked over Ellor's shoulder to his girl, and then froze.
It was no girl. It was, in fact, a man. A beautiful one, yes, now that Noble looked him over more closely.
The elven stranger's crystalline blue eyes stared in visible apprehension, and Noble hoped he hadn't stumbled into some sort of affair.
But Ellor stepped back and reached for his lover's hand, pulling him forward. “Yes, yes. This is Aria Charms. He’s my adame.”
Aria Charms? “Of Highfell?” Noble added, without really meaning to, because his memory finally served him well. Dear Elys—it was him. The strait-laced Argosin bard from that disastrous trek across the kingdom.
Aria's lips thinned as he lowered his head in greeting. Ellor said, “You know one another?”
“Yes,” said Noble. “Well, no. We met briefly years ago. How do you do, Aria?”
“Lord Yves. It's nice to see you again,” said Aria.
Noble didn't remember Aria being quite this…
remarkable. His hair looked made of white-gold silk, cascading over a many-patterned patchwork wool coat that fit his trim waist with a tailoring most bards couldn't afford. Then again, he clearly wasn’t a bard, but an adame.
And to someone well-connected, too. The Abantes were quite well-respected in elite circles.
“Your hair is different. Longer. I didn't recognize you at first.”
Aria tucked a strand behind his ear and said, primly, “Yours is quite different, too.”
Noble reached up to touch the top of his head and laughed. “I've trimmed it, yes.” It wasn't incredibly short—brushing the top of his shoulders these days, as was fashionable. He wore it with slightly less curl as Virginia's hair products helped tame some of the texture.
“Are you off to Sallansa, then?” asked Ellor.
Noble blinked at him. He'd temporarily forgotten he wasn't speaking to Aria alone. “Yes. For the long weekend. With my associate, Morgan.” He looked over his shoulder to find Morgan watching the scene with arms crossed. He offered a stiff, unpleasant, wave.
“We wish you safe travels, then,” said Ellor.
A distant train horn filled the platform. Morgan stepped silently to Noble's side, holding his bag in one hand. Noble offered a parting grin to Ellor, then to Aria, and said, “Thank you. Good to see you both.”
He didn't allow himself to look back as he approached the edge of the platform.
ARIA
Aria watched Noble board the train, and tried to identify the odd knot within his chest. Noble hadn't recognized him. Not until he heard the name. He supposed he couldn't be offended. They weren't friends.
Him, him, him, whispered Aria’s soul. Elys be, he’d forgotten how that voice taunted him in his youth. And it ushered him forward, now, toward the train car. Go, go, go.
“How do you two know each other?” Aria asked Ellor, having already halfway guessed the answer. Ellor was a duke, and Noble would one day be an earl. They came from the same world.
“We grew up at neighboring estates outside of Sallansa.”
“You knew each other as children?”
“We did. He's about five years younger than me. A bit too young to be close friends. Also…” Ellor started, and then stopped himself with a tsk. His handsome brow furrowed.
Aria looked Ellor over before placing a comforting hand upon his arm. “What is it?”
“Well, he's an odd duck. I've always thought he cared too much for his status. He’s technically a prince, you know.”
Aria laughed before he could stop himself, and when Ellor narrowed his eyes, he took hold of Ellor's hand. “He didn't seem that way to me, when I met him. He refused to allow me to call him by his title.”
“Did he?” Ellor blinked a few times. “I've always called him Lord Yves, or Future-Earl.” Aria made certain to contain his reaction.
“I suppose he is different from most, as you say,” Aria said, looking back over the train.
Noble had already boarded, and Aria didn't see him on either the upper or lower deck of the double-decker car.
It was a luxurious machine, this train—painted dark green, with gleaming gold accents, and the black interiors looked plush and inviting from the open door.
The specific car Aria meant to board was meant for higher-paying patrons.
Ellor had booked it, and spared no expense. As usual.
The train horn let out a boarding call—five minutes left.
“Hey,” Ellor said, reaching out. He pulled Aria closer, and squeezed a hand upon his waist. “I wanted to say something before you go.”
Aria’s stomach bottomed out. He took in Ellor's serious, considering stare. “Now? Before I board?” Did Ellor mean to ruin his trip? “I'll be back in just a few days. Can’t we talk then?” He had been hired to perform with several other bards on a houseboat anchored in Sallansa Bay, crafting song magic to alleviate seasickness and continually bless their wine. It was the first real bardic gig he’d gotten, and he needed to focus, and he thought Ellor supported him—happy to allow him reprieve from his official-unofficial adame duties.
“I don't think I can do bad news right now, El.”
Ellor gazed at him with those emotionless eyes, and a smirk grew across his face. “Aria, my love.” He leaned in, and Aria accepted a chaste kiss. “You're always scared of what I may do. When will you accept that I want what's best for you?”
Aria mumbled, brushing their noses together, “Out with it, Ellor.”
“I spoke with the Bardic Post. You're in. When you get back—the night you return—will be your first meeting with all the guild members.” He stepped back, stretched out his hands, and said, “Congratulations.”
Aria stood stunned. He said, in awe, “Truly?”
“Yes.”
The shock turned to glee. He said, too loudly, “Truly!” Ellor laughed, and Aria threw himself forward, into his arms, and kissed his face. Then his mouth. And said, “Ellor. Thank you. Thank you.”
“You deserve it,” Ellor said, laughing as he was kissed again. “You're too talented to play for me and me alone.”
Being Ellor’s adame had been a relief over the last several months.
Consistent income was something Aria had never had in his time in New Hieroph, and it wasn’t like the adame roles Aria feared.
Really, he and Ellor were lovers, and Ellor’s estate paid Aria a small wage for the magic he did around Ellor’s home.
Their home. Adame as a title was a technicality.
Aria knew what he and Ellor had was special. More than adame-patron.
So close, said his soul.
But that thought gave him pause. What had Ellor done to get him this job? He tried to keep any inflection from his voice as he asked, “This is because of my gifts, right? You didn't just demand it, did you? Because you're the highest-paying patron the guild works for.”
Ellor said, “The other bards have heard your work. They were excited when I proposed you as a new member of their talented crew.” He tickled fingers against Aria's waist and said, “And anyway, would it be so bad if I did this for you? Demanded it as one of the guildmasters?”
Aria stifled a giggle, squirming against Ellor's touch. “I want to be able to stand on my own. If I cared to simply have a patron throw his weight around, I’d have asked.”
“I'm here for you. Not as your patron, but as your lover. See?”
Ellor stopped teasing, and he and Aria stood on firm ground again, watching one another. Aria whispered, “Ellor?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
It was the first time either one said it, though Ellor loved the diminutive love, which came close.
But Aria had thought about saying it a great many times—including earlier that morning, when they made love inside the train station bathroom, voices muffled behind their hands.
All Aria had wanted was for Ellor to finish inside of him, and silently mourned when he finished against Aria's face instead. Was that love? Did he love Ellor?
He must have. He'd never been so light, so happy, in all his life. He could have danced on air at this moment. The magical veil that wrapped around Aria flowed, sparkling with magic, crafting a breeze ruffling Aria’s hair.
Ellor paused, leaned in, and kissed him deeply again. Aria's heart sang. They were in love.
The train horn gave a final warning, and one of the attendants shouted, “One minute!"
Ellor backed away, licking his swollen lips, and said, “Go. I'll see you next week.” He gave Aria a little push towards the train door. “Congratulations again.”
Aria laughed, giddy, and grabbed up his suitcase from near their feet. “Okay. Alright. Goodbye, My Lord.”
Ellor winked before he left.
NOBLE