Arun

  A few weeks pass in a gentle rhythm of quiet mornings, shared meals and long walks through the fields. It’s enough time for me to almost forget the weight of answered questions.

  Almost.

  I come down from my room later than usual this morning and the house feels a bit… still. It’s a hush that makes me notice every small sound. There’s a soft click of porcelain somewhere in the distance and the low murmur of voices drifting in from the open veranda doors.

  I slow my steps as I catch the familiar tone of Alexios’s voice, but then there’s another. It’s lighter, confident and has a faint musical lilt to it.

  Curiosity nudges me forward until I step out onto the veranda.

  Alexios is seated at a small table with a woman I’ve never seen before. She’s dressed in well-tailored traveling clothes dyed emerald to complement her red hair that’s been pinned back neatly. Her eyes are quick and assessing even in repose. There’s an elegance to her that feels lived-in, not performed. She seems like someone who can slip between boardrooms and banquet halls without missing a step.

  When she notices me, her smile is very warm but appraising.

  “This must be Arun,” she says, rising smoothly to her feet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Je Suis, Alexios’s accountant.”

  “Je Suis,” I repeat. Her name feels a bit… strange on my tongue.

  She extends her hand and when I take it, her grip is firm and I can tell it’s kind of shake that means she’s used to making agreements that matter.

  “I was just telling her about you,” Alexios says from his seat, his eyes glinting in a way I can’t quite read.

  Je Suis’s smile deepens and I have the distinct impression she already knows more about me than I will ever know about her.

  She resumes her seat, her posture relaxed but her gaze still keen.

  “Alexios tells me you’ve been settling in well here,” she says as she stirs the tea in her cup with unhurried precision. “I like to know the people he chooses to keep close.”

  It’s not really a question, but it kind of feels almost like one.

  “I’ve… been adjusting,” I reply carefully.

  Her eyes flick briefly to Alexios.

  “He mentioned your attention to detail and said you helped with the inventory the other day. That’s a useful quality here.”

  Alexios smirks faintly over the rim of his own cup.

  “I told you, didn’t I? Quick to notice things most people overlook.”

  “Mm,” she hums as she studies me over the edge of her tea. “And do you enjoy it here? The plantation and the company?”

  I glance at Alexios who seems perfectly content to let me answer on my own.

  “Yes,” I say, though the word feels both true and incomplete. “It’s… different from what I’m used to, but not in a bad way.”

  Je Suis tilts her head as though she’s filing the answer away.

  “Good. He needs people who can adapt.”

  Alexios leans back in his chair and his smile lingers.

  “You’re already making her think you’re indispensable, Arun. I’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

  There’s a lightness in his tone, but I can’t tell whether it’s just teasing or a quiet admission that he likes the thought. After a while, the conversation tilts into another rhythm.

  Je Suis sets her cup down and draws a slim leather folio from the bag at her side, sliding it across the table to Alexios.

  “The figures from last quarter,” she says, her tone shifting into something brisker and more exact. “I’ve marked the suppliers whose prices are starting to edge higher. You’ll want to decide if they’re still worth keeping.”

  Alexios flips the folio open without missing a beat, scanning the neat rows of handwritten numbers.

  “You’re right,” he murmurs, tapping a page with one long finger. “The herbalists in Kitosh are late on their payment again?”

  “They are,” she confirms, arching a brow. “I’ve already sent a letter, but if they don’t respond…”

  “I’ll handle it,” Alexios says simply and I can tell by the ease of it that this isn’t the first time they’ve played this particular game.

  I sit quietly and sip my tea while their voices move over familiar names, trade routes, quantities and debts. There’s an ease born of years of shared work and trust here between them. It makes me wonder just how deep their history goes and how many times they’ve sat across from one another like this just plotting the movement of goods while the rest of the world sleeps.

  When Je Suis and Alexios laugh softly at something he says, it catches me off guard. It’s as though I’ve just glimpsed a side of him reserved for very few people.

  They keep going for a while with the folio resting between them, pages turning under Alexios’s hand as Je Suis jots down some little notes in the margins. Then, without warning, Je Suis glances at me.

  “Arun, do you see yourself taking part in all this someday?”

  The question catches me mid-step and the glass pauses just short of my lips.

  “I… suppose I could,” I say carefully. “If I’m useful to it.”

  “You are,” Alexios says without hesitation, though his eyes stay on the page in front of him.

  Je Suis’s mouth curves faintly, like she’s measuring something in my answer. “Usefulness is easy. Trust however…”

  She lets the sentence trail off and returns to the figures.

  They slip back into their rhythm again, but now… I’m not just watching them work. I sit quietly and listen as the sound of their voices weave together like a language I don’t fully understand just yet.

  Je Suis is jotting something in the folio when Alexios sets his pen down and turns his attention toward me.

  “You know,” he says in a soft voice. “This place has felt different since you arrived, Arun. It feels warmer. I think I’d forgotten what that felt like until you reminded me.”

  The words sink into me slowly and the meaning is heavy in the quiet between us. His eyes are right on me as though he wants me to be sure that I understand he means it.

  Across the table, Je Suis’s pen stops for a bit. Her gaze lifts and moves from his face to mine, as if reading the space between us.

  I can feel the heat rise in my chest and I want nothing more than to look away so I can hide my blushing face, but I can’t. Alexios doesn’t look away either.

  After a moment, Je Suis resumes her writing, but the faintest trace of a smile tugs at her lips. I realize it’s not to mock us, but rather that she is recognizing a truth before it’s even been spoken aloud.

  Alexios closes the folio and stands and smooths the sleeve of his shirt.

  “I should check on something in the study,” he says, a glance flicking briefly between the two of us. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Je Suis nods, not missing the way his hand brushes lightly against the back of my chair as he passes. The sound of his footsteps fades down the hall, leaving only the soft clink of porcelain as she takes another sip of tea.

  For a short moment, she just studies me before eventually speaking.

  “So,” she says at last. “What were you doing before all this? Alexios says you’ve got a sharp mind for details, so I’m guessing something rather studious like going through ledgers or maybe even working as an archivist?”

  The words make my throat feel tight. I glance down at my hands, fingers curling lightly against the cup.

  “Not exactly,” I admit. “Nothing… quite like this.”

  Her brow lifts a fraction. “No?”

  I hesitate and the truth hovers on the edge of my tongue, but it feels too raw to lay out for someone I’ve only just met.

  “It was… different work. Less respectable to certain people, I suppose. It was… work with people. One-on-one. I suppose you could call it… companionship though not in the polite sense.”

  Her brow lifts slightly, but her gaze doesn’t turn judgmental. I shift in my seat and my fingers tighten slightly around my cup.

  “It was mostly physical work,” I add quickly. “But sometimes they just wanted someone to listen. But yes… there was more to it too.”

  A slow, knowing smile curves her lips.

  “I don’t mind,” she says as if waving away the weight of it entirely. “Respectable is overrated. What matters is that Alexios cares about you and that’s… rare for him.”

  That makes me look up.

  “Rare?”

  She leans back in her chair and studies me over the rim of her cup.

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  “He’s a complicated person. Brilliant, but guarded. He doesn’t let many people close. If you’re here… it’s because you matter to him.”

  Her words settle into me like a stone in still water with its ripples spreading outward.

  Je Suis sets her cup down and her smile still plays at the edges of her mouth.

  “So,” she says, her tone casual but gaze intent. “What do you think of him?”

  I blink.

  “Of… Alexios?”

  She folds her hands in her lap, leaning forward slightly.

  “You’ve been here long enough to get a sense of him. I’m curious what you see.”

  I glance toward the veranda doors, half expecting him to reappear, but the hallway beyond is still empty.

  “He’s… hard to describe,” I say at last. “Sometimes I think I’ve figured him out and then he does something that makes me wonder if I ever understood him at all.”

  Je Suis’s brow lifts slightly, a trace of intrigue in her expression.

  “That’s a fair answer.”

  I hesitate then add, “But… whatever else he is, he’s someone I want to understand.”

  Her smile deepens just a fraction and I suspect she’s weighing my answer against her own knowledge of him.

  “And?” she prompts.

  “And… he makes it easy to want to be near him,” I admit quietly. “Even when I’m not sure I understand him.”

  Je Suis leans back in her chair and studies me as if she is weighing how much she wants to reveal.

  “Well, you’re not wrong. He’s difficult to pin down. People spend years thinking they’ve mapped him out, only to find there’s a whole other side they never saw coming.”

  “Sounds like you’ve known him a long time.”

  “I have,” she says simply. “Long enough to see the way he guards himself… and the very few exceptions he makes.” Her gaze sharpens slightly. “You’re one of them. That’s not something to take lightly.”

  I look away as I feel the heat rise faintly in my face.

  “I don’t.”

  She smiles faintly as though my answer has satisfied something for her.

  The room falls into a companionable quiet as we listen to the soft rustle of the veranda curtains and the distant creak of the manor. I’m not sure if I’ve passed some unspoken test, but I get the sense she’s decided I belong here.

  At least for now.

  I can hear footsteps coming from the hallway inside and a moment later, Alexios steps back onto the veranda. The late afternoon light catches in his silver-white hair and I admire the way it softens the sharper edges of his expression.

  Without a word, he moves behind my chair and his presence is a warm shadow over my shoulder. His hand brushes lightly against my arm as he leans down and then I feel a soft kiss pressed to my forehead just at the base of my horn.

  The touch is brief, but it lingers and it sends a bit of a shiver down my spine.

  When I glance up at him, there’s no performance in his expression. There’s warmth in his eyes and it makes my heart beat faster. Je Suis’s gaze flicks between us and the corner of her mouth tugs upward slightly as if something she’d already suspected has now been confirmed.

  Alexios straightens and his hand comes to rest lightly on the back of my chair.

  “I hope you two have been getting along,” he says smoothly.

  “I think we understand each other just fine,” Je Suis replies, her tone calm but slightly amused.

  Alexios lingers behind my chair for a moment longer before stepping around to reclaim his seat. He picks up his wine glass and swirls it lazily.

  “Will you stay for dinner?” he asks Je Suis. “It’s been too long since we’ve shared a meal here.”

  She considers for a heartbeat, her eyes glinting with something between fondness and calculation.

  “I could be persuaded,” she says lightly. “Assuming you have more of that rosemary bread the cook makes.”

  Alexios’s mouth curves faintly.

  “I’ll see to it.”

  There’s a warmth in the exchange that feels practiced, but still very genuine. It’s clear that they have shared countless dinners over the years and as I watch them, I can’t help but wonder more about where I fit into this long history now.

  --

  The dining hall is warmly lit by the time the three of us take our seats. The long table is set with fresh bread, roasted vegetables and a very fragrant stew. Je Suis sits to Alexios’s right while I sit to his left.

  From the moment the meal begins, we fall into a smooth rhythm of conversation. Alexios asks Je Suis more about trade matters and comments on the state of the fields, but every so often, his focus tilts toward me in ways that feel almost unconscious.

  He nudges the basket of rosemary bread closer to my side of the table without looking as if it’s second nature to him. When I reach for the wine, his hand is already there to steady the bottle and he pours for me before refilling his own. At one point, he plucks a sprig of parsley from my stew, murmuring that it’s too much garnish. He slides the bowl back to me with a faint and private smile.

  None of it feels staged. If anything, it’s as though he isn’t really aware that he’s doing it. Each gesture is quite small, but it’s laced with a quiet care that speaks much louder than words could right now.

  Je Suis notices.

  I can see it in the subtle way her gaze flicks between us and the tiny pause she does before she answers one of his questions. She doesn’t comment, thank the gods. She simply carries on with the conversation as if storing the observation away for later.

  By the time the plates are cleared and tea is brought out, there’s a comfortable ease to the table. It’s a nice balance between Alexios and his understated attentions, Je Suis’s dry wit and my own growing awareness of how instinctively he seems to keep me within his reach.

  When the tea is poured, Je Suis has shifted the conversation away from trade routes and supply tallies. She leans slightly in my direction, her tone lighter now.

  “And what about you, Arun? Alexios says you’ve been learning the layout of the plantation. Have you picked a favorite spot yet?”

  I take a sip of tea and consider my answer.

  “The arbor near the south fields,” I admit. “It’s quiet there and the way the vines catch the light in the late afternoon…” I trail off as I realize I’m getting caught up in the image.

  Je Suis smiles and looks back at Alexios.

  “He’s poetic about it. You didn’t mention that part,” she says.

  Alexios only smiles, but as I set my cup down, I feel his hand find mine beneath the table. It’s not deliberate in the way a public display might be. There’s no glance or pause in the conversation, but rather the natural curl of his fingers around mine as though his hand belongs here in mine.

  My pulse jumps at the contact, but he goes on speaking with Je Suis as if nothing at all has changed. He asks her about a mutual acquaintance in Zoksu and his thumb idly brushes over my knuckles.

  Je Suis’s eyes flick briefly to me, but she doesn’t mention anything. Her expression stays neutral and I can’t tell if she’s surprised or if she’d been expecting it all along.

  The warmth of his hand in mine anchors me and for the rest of the conversation, I’m as much aware of his steady touch as I am of the words passing between us. Je Suis tips her head as the candlelight catches in her eyes.

  “What about hobbies, Arun? Surely Alexios hasn’t kept you buried in ledgers and fields every hour of the day.”

  “Oh… I love to paint and sketch mostly. It’s a bit easier to express some things on paper than to put them into words.”

  Alexios turns toward me at that and the corner of his mouth lifts.

  “Your sketches are beautiful,” he says without hesitation. “At least the ones I’ve seen.”

  My brows raise.

  “You’ve seen them?”

  He gives a faint shrug as if it’s no great secret.

  “You leave them in plain sight sometimes.” His hand tightens gently around mine beneath the table and before I can answer, he lifts it and presses a slow kiss to the back.

  The warmth of his lips lingers on my skin and when he lowers my hand again, his thumb resumes that idle brushing over my knuckles.

  Je Suis doesn’t interrupt, but her gaze rests on the gesture long enough to make my cheeks warm.

  “Perhaps you’ll share more of them with us one day,” she says lightly, but I can’t tell if us means her and Alexios… or just him.

  Alexios answers for me.

  “Oh, I’m sure he will,” he says with a quiet certainty that feels like both a promise and a decision.

  Je Suis finishes the last of her tea and sets the cup down with a gentle clink.

  “I should be going,” she says as she glances between us. “I’ll be back in a few weeks to look over more reports.”

  She rises gracefully and collects her folio before slipping it into her satchel as she turns to me.

  “Arun, would you walk me to the carriage?”

  I glance toward Alexios. He meets my eyes and then gives a small nod.

  “Go on,” he says easily.

  The night air is cool outside and I can smell the faint scent of lavender from the fields. We walk down the gravel path toward the waiting carriage and when we are far enough from the front porch’s glow, Je Suis speaks.

  “I asked you to walk me out so I could talk to you alone.”

  I look over at her, curious.

  “About what?”

  She smiles and it’s tinged with something rather thoughtful.

  “I’ve known Alexios for a long time. I’ve seen him in all manner of moods and in all sorts of company. But tonight… I’ve never seen him look as peaceful as he did with you. Those little things he did like pouring your wine, holding your hand and kissing it… he doesn’t do that, Arun. Not for anyone.”

  I feel heat rise in my face and my pulse quickens despite the calm in her tone.

  “Maybe he was just…”

  “No,” she cuts in gently but firmly. “He wasn’t just being polite. Those were instinct and with Alexios… instinct means something.”

  We reach the carriage, the driver already waiting with the door open. She places a hand lightly on my arm before stepping inside.

  “Don’t underestimate what that means, okay?”

  Then she’s gone, the door closing behind her, the carriage rolling away into the night, leaving me standing in the quiet with her words lingering like a weight in my chest.

  The manor feels warmer after the chill of the night air as I step back inside. I follow the soft glow of candlelight back toward the sitting room and hear the faint rustle of pages letting me know where he is before I even step inside.

  Alexios is in his chair again with a book open in his lap. He looks up the moment I appear in the doorway.

  “My love,” he says as he closes the book with one hand. “What did you think of Je Suis?”

  I cross the room and the memory of her words find me again.

  “She’s… sharp,” I say honestly. “She seems very sure of herself. I can see why you trust her with so much.”

  One corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly.

  “She’s earned it.”

  He studies me for a beat longer as though trying to read whether there’s more I’m not saying.

  I hesitate and wonder if I should just tell him what she told me, but instead I let the pause stretch just long enough before I speak again.

  “I think she sees more than she lets on.”

  His smile deepens, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. Amusement? Quiet acknowledgment?

  “Yes,” he says softly. “She does.”

  --

  Steam clings faintly to my skin as I step from the bath and the soft linen robe wraps me in a much needed warmth. The servants lead me back to my room where the air is just a touch cooler and the familiar comfort of the heavy curtains shut out the night.

  One of them gestures toward the low stool by the mirror, a comb and brush laid neatly on the table.

  “We’ll tend to your hair, sir,” she says with a polite bow of her head.

  I’ve barely settled into the seat when a soft knock comes at the door. One of the servants moves to open it and Alexios steps inside, his gaze finding me immediately.

  His eyes linger on my robe and then the steam-softened curls of my hair as a smile touches his mouth.

  “May I?” he asks. His tone is smooth but lacks the formality he usually keeps around the servants.

  The servant glances at me and waits for my answer.

  I nod, feeling a curious flutter in my chest.

  “Yes… please.”

  Alexios crosses the room, his presence shifting the air. He takes the brush from the servant with an unspoken authority and she steps back without question.

  “You may go,” he tells them as his eyes linger on me.

  When the door clicks shut behind them, he moves to stand behind my chair, fingers brushing lightly through the damp strands before the first slow sweep of the bristles. The motion is unhurried and rather meditative. I feel the tension of the day begin to melt away beneath his touch.

  The brush glides through my hair in slow and gentle strokes, each pass smoothing not just the tangles but something deeper inside of me. His fingers follow now and then, combing through the strands with a care that feels almost tender.

  I catch glimpses of him in the mirror. His eyes are half-lidded in focus and his smile looks more like contentment than amusement. He’s close enough that I can feel the steady warmth of him and the occasional graze of his knuckles against the nape of my neck.

  “You should let me do this more often,” he murmurs, his voice low and unhurried. “It suits us both.”

  I almost ask why but stop myself, afraid of breaking the moment. Instead, I let my eyes close for a few breaths and lean slightly into the rhythm of the brush.

  After a quiet stretch, he says, “Come into town with me tomorrow.”

  My eyes open again, meeting his in the reflection.

  “Into town?”

  “For a few business deals,” he explains, pausing to sweep a stray curl back over my shoulder. “Possible clients I’d like you to meet. It would do them good to see I keep refined company.”

  His tone holds just enough warmth to make me wonder if he means only that. I search his expression in the glass, but he only smiles faintly and resumes the gentle strokes as if the invitation is as natural as the intimacy of this moment.

  “Okay,” I say softly, the word slipping out without hesitation.

  Alexios’s smile deepens and it warms something in my chest. He sets the brush aside and his hand lingers on my shoulder for a moment before he steps around to face me.

  “Come,” he murmurs as he offers his hand. I take it and he guides me to the bed as if the day as been leading here all along. The covers are pulled back and I settle in, the sheets cool and smooth against my skin.

  He leans over me, tucking the blankets snugly around my shoulders. It should feel formal, but the way his eyes hold mine strips away any distance.

  Then he bends down and presses a kiss to my forehead.

  Another to my temple.

  Another to the corner of my mouth.

  His warm lips linger as if each one is a quiet claim. When he finally kisses me full on the mouth, it’s slow and deep. He draws back only to press another against my cheek, jaw and the curve of my horn.

  By the time he straightens, I’m caught between wanting more and not wanting to move at all.

  “Sleep well,” he says as he brushes one last kiss across my lips before stepping away.

  The door closes gently behind him, but the imprint of his mouth lingers like a warmth I gladly carry into sleep.