Chapter 11
When the sun left the sky, Blaze lit his lanterns and took a few more from the house to work by.
His head finally cleared of all his dreams and disappointments as he fell into the deep concentration enchantments required.
Each stroke of the magic paint traced lines he had etched into what was becoming the control mechanisms for the airship.
Steadily, he connected the wood, steel, and gold pieces to the resonant core of crystals of the engine.
His ship had its own reality, a hum of a song ready to be sung to the world, waiting for him to finish and unleash it.
His invention would show all of Everend Market that noble lineage and bottomless pockets weren’t what would change the world.
He would. Blaze Levimist. Son to poor inventors, student overlooked for less risky magics, creator who had a vision that others were too cowardly to accept.
And he was well ahead of schedule. He would have at least three days after completion to gloat at social events before wowing everyone at the competition.
He cracked a smile for the first time in days.
Light footsteps on the dock told Blaze that someone had made it back from the dance, which was odd but not unexpected.
Shaina had claimed she was going to make everyone dance until dawn, but she was usually the first to complain that she was tired.
He grabbed a rag and wiped sweat from his brow.
He raised his head from his work to see who had approached.
Fists on his hips, Durae stood on the dock.
The light from the lanterns bathed him in a yellowish glow, lending gold to his white hair.
A rainbow of colored stones decorated his braids, while some of his hair hung loose.
He had an outer robe of rosy pink that had long, wide sleeves and sat delicately on his shoulders.
His tunic was cream, and his breeches were dark brown.
His boots were absolutely ridiculous and dotted with gems.
He was gorgeous.
He was wearing more than Blaze’s ship was worth, pardoning the celestial diamond.
He was pouting.
Blaze focused on wiping the grime from his hands. Only a little paint had flecked onto them, which was a good sign. He hadn’t wasted much. “Can I help you, my lord?”
“Will you allow me to explain?” Durae asked.
“Explain what?” Blaze replied with a shrug.
Bitterness seeped into his bones once more, the ache fiercer for having worked his body to the point of exhaustion.
He should have remembered to eat. “You were out to toy with someone and didn’t want to be known.
It’s a common enough game for nobles to play with my folk. ”
Durae couldn’t have looked more hurt if Blaze had stabbed him.
Equal parts pleasure and self-loathing filled Blaze.
He narrowed in on his nails because that microcosm of reality was easier to bear than anything happening in his heart or in Durae’s.
The one thing he hadn’t counted on was how much dirt would get under them.
He wasn’t certain they’d been truly clean since he left Manabelt with Kidd and the others.
Without waiting for Blaze’s permission, Durae hiked up his robe and climbed onto his ship. But his heeled boot caught on the railing, and he careened toward the deck. Blaze reached out and caught him. Doing so meant colliding with him, chest to chest, his hands on Durae’s upper arms.
Durae had the most indecently long white lashes framing his sapphire eyes. Gratitude shone in them as he looked up at Blaze. Softly, he said, “Thank you.”
His voice was the same sort of gentle when he exhaled after sex. A mix of relief and wonder that two nights ago, Blaze had wanted to hold on to forever. And some part of him still wanted that. His stomach churned, disgusted at his weakness, while his heart leapt into his throat with hope.
Logic won out. He pushed Durae back to his feet and stepped away.
Smudgy handprints remained on pink sleeves.
With a bit of flair, Durae regained his composure and swept his hair back from his face.
He cleared his throat. “As I was going to tell you at the dance, I am sorry that I gave you a fake name when we met. You were correcting an Aulage proprietary enchantment in public. My family has only put to bed a rivalry with them in my lifetime, and I wouldn’t call it perfectly settled.
I did not want to reopen barely closed wounds. ”
“So fixing their spellwork had more to do with proving your superiority than helping me,” Blaze said flatly. Thunder was in his ears. He didn’t dare gamble that Durae’s answer was anything else. His heart could scarcely afford the expense of a loss any more than his coin purse could.
“I clasped your hand and danced with you, even though you’re a terrible dancer.
” Durae held his chin up high, but his long lashes cut through his attempt to be imposing.
He was impishly defiant despite his noble bearing.
“I then took you to where any of my family could be relaxing. Pride is not one of my faults.”
“Deceit is,” Blaze replied.
“For which I am sorry!”
“It’s been over two full days since I learned who you are.”
“I tried to make my way back here last night, but I got lost! Please, Blaze. I am truly sorry that I did not tell you the truth of my name, especially once we were safely alone. I was too busy enjoying your company.”
“And is that why you’ve come to apologize?” Blaze demanded. “My company?”
“Yes,” Durae said without any hint of guile.
Naivety softened his eyes, and confusion knitted his brow.
“Why did you say it like that? Wait—did you mean?” He put his hands to his cheeks.
“Gods, Blaze! I wouldn’t say no, but I hurt your feelings!
And I like you! Of course I want to spend time with you and repair the damage I’ve done! ”
The roiling in Blaze’s stomach slowed, but the churning changed in its nature.
Anger and determination were useful tools, but hope was a flimsy thing not good for much.
It could bend and snap with a terrible word.
Blaze had stowed it away because he couldn’t afford for it to break.
Now, Durae was rooting around in his chest and drawing it out into the starlight.
“But your father clearly doesn’t approve of your association with me,” Blaze said. “And you are the Navisora heir. You should marry.”
Durae leaned against the railing and tilted his head toward the stars.
“My people have spent generations watching the celestial bodies and mapping where they go. Many use the stars’ paths as guidance for how to live their lives, as if the answer of their destiny lies in a pattern made without a thought to them.
“You would think we’d have placed every star and every planet on a map, but we are always discovering the flaws in the predictions or new stars that have emerged.
We realize that some things are not what we thought they were, that their influence is greater or lesser than originally believed.
We know that the same stars do not shine everywhere across the world. The patterns aren’t fixed.
“My family calls me a comet. I used to think that was an insult, but I am realizing that it means they don’t know how to map my destiny. It terrifies my mother because she wants happiness and love for me, and all her celestial signs have given her great concern about my fate.
“Comets don’t listen to the stars. They run their own orbits, heedless of where it might take them, and burn bright the whole way. I wish to own my future like they do.”
Drawn to him, Blaze had moved closer while Durae spoke and leaned against the railing beside him.
After drinking in the sight of him, he turned his gaze upward.
Somewhere, a comet was likely crossing through the night, but he had no telescope to find it.
But the odds were in favor of countless ones existing, even if some were at incredible distances.
“That’s very poetic, but not very practical if your parents toss you out for consorting with me,” Blaze murmured.
“They won’t.”
“Your father—”
Stones sparkling in the low light, Durae tore his attention from the stars. The motion of him drew Blaze’s reflexes, and their gazes met. Fierce passion lent Durae’s blue eyes an undeniable magic so strong that all complaint dried on Blaze’s tongue.
“My father is not the head of my family. Mama is.” Durae motioned at himself.
“My papa said that they are not dressing me up so someone can claim me, but giving me the best chance to show others how I shine. And though my mama was not happy about the way I told her I spent the night on the Glaesflod—and I was acting shamefully, I’ll admit—she and Papa have not uttered a single word of reprimand about my spending time with you. ”
“Spending time with and marrying a commoner are two different things,” Blaze replied.
Durae arched an eyebrow. “Are you proposing?”
“Ah, no.” Blaze couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting down to where he had left smudges on Durae’s fine robe.
Voice trembling at the edge of a whisper, he said, “Comets are not wild things. Even if it’s unmapped, some predictions can be made.
I don’t wish to put hope in a trajectory that will smash my heart to pieces. ”
With a surprising strength, Durae clasped his hand and held him tight. “I do not know what Mama and Papa would say if I told them I wished to marry you.”
“They could disinherit you,” Blaze murmured.
“They might not. Should a consequence of falling in love become forsaking my inheritance, I will choose love.”
“That is easy to say when you’re wearing gems on your shoes,” Blaze pointed out.
“Well, I imagine I’d have some warning if they were cross, and I know all the best ways in and out of our treasury, so I could procure at least a small fortune.
And I would be walking toward someone, not running from my life.
Should I choose to marry a commoner, I might lose a title, but my sister would gain it, and she would lead our family with grace.
” Durae smiled mischievously and put his index finger on Blaze’s bare collarbone.
“If I were suddenly broke and helplessly making my way in the world, would you abandon me to my fate?”
Where he had been sullen when he arrived at the dock, his lips now curved in a decadent tease of a pout.
Blaze knew the Dun Steorran elves had command of gravity, but watching Durae for too long was like falling through the air, waiting to either smash on the ground or continue floating forever.
He wasn’t sure he could handle the feeling but couldn’t imagine losing it.
“I could never abandon you,” Blaze said.
Laughter lit Durae’s eyes. He traced Blaze’s collarbone to the center and then ran his finger halfway down his chest. “You did, technically. You left me sitting at a party instead of giving me a chance to apologize.”
“You didn’t come after me.”
“I tried. My father cast a spell to keep me in my seat.”
“I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you,” Blaze said.
“Forgiven,” Durae murmured.
“Just like that?”
“If you’ve forgiven me, then yes, just like that.”
Staring into Durae’s eyes, Blaze was ashamed he’d ever held an ounce of anger for him.
All the reasons had made sense. A part of him claimed that he should lock his heart away instead of allowing Durae anywhere near it.
One small lie was not likely to be his last. I don’t have enough data to know if he’ll lie again or not.
Inventing an engine that could potentially destroy a small town suddenly seemed far less dangerous than letting another know him. But the sort of love his fathers had was possible. He could hear their voices, full of fondness and devotion, and that took trust and time to build.
And there was the truth, the real reason he had been so angry with everyone around him.
Anger was easier than hope.
It was a useful shield to hide behind. But its handle was thorny, ready to destroy him if he clutched it too long. Now, he left it and admitted to himself that all he’d longed to hear was three simple words, and Durae had said them earnestly.
“Of course I’ve forgiven you,” Blaze rasped. “I knew I would the second I saw you again. That was why I had to stay away. You could crush my heart between your hands, and I would still hand it to you the next time you asked.”
The playfulness in Durae’s eyes vanished, and they widened with surprise. “Blaze.”
“I’m being too forward, aren’t I?”
“All I want is to know you better so I feel worthy of what you said,” Durae replied.
Blaze kissed him. He tasted of wine and flowers, and he was warm as the summer and soft as a whisper.
Unthinking, he pulled Durae closer. His hands still had remnants of grease and paint on them, and he left marks on Durae’s outer robe.
But when he glanced at one of the stains, Durae slipped out of his outer robe and let it pool on the deck.
His cream tunic was going to suffer far worse if Blaze reached for him.
“I’m getting you filthy,” Blaze said.
Durae frowned, then followed his line of sight to the robe he’d shed. “The stains will come out, or they won’t. I don’t care.” He stepped up to Blaze and put his arms around his neck.
Why Blaze thought he was all softness was a mystery. Though his skin was silken, Durae was wiry, and his cock was a hardening bulge trapped in his breeches. He was a velvet-wrapped living statue, impossibly beautiful and breathtakingly complex.
They sank to the deck together and made a mess of both their clothes.