Page 93 of The Concubine King
Mikel’s freckled face flushed at Ethyr’s gawking and he gestured awkwardly to himself.
“They said my clothes weren’t ready yet and insisted I wear this.”
Ethyr dismissed the servant before stepped further into the room.“Where did it come from?”he asked.
“I don’t know.They brought it to me.”
Did the palace, or Edora more likely, have a set of fancy clothes set aside for guests, as though any guests of this place wouldn’t have their own?But he wouldn’t put it past her.
“You…” Ethyr cleared his throat.“You look good.”
Mikel looked down at himself, but didn’t raise his gaze back up when he said, “Ethyr, I’m sorry.”
Ethyr blinked.“What for?”
“For being an ass to you.”
“It’s okay, I…” Ethyr bit his lip.“I’m sorry, too.You just got here, I should have given you time to settle in.”
Mikel looked up then, and the hurt-puppy expression on his face twinged Ethyr’s heart and he wanted so badly to take that face and kiss it.Ethyr dared to step a little closer.
“I wanted to be here for you,” Mikel murmured.“I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Ethyr said, almost before he’d finished speaking.Mikel’s look was too soft and sweet and painful.Ethyr closed the space between them and with the same habitual synchronicity, like they’d never spent a moment apart, Mikel’s arms lifted as Ethyr’s slipped around his back and they settled into each other like threads on a loom.The feel of cool silk may have been unfamiliar against Ethyr’s cheek, but not the firm muscles underneath.“Tell me about home,” he mumbled into Mikel’s shoulder.
They sat by the fire and Ethyr listened with rapt attention as Mikel filled him in on the happenings of the village.Snowfall had come early, but wasn’t sticking past mid-day by the time Mikel had set off, so it wasn’t detrimental.The rest of the crops had been harvested with only the minor incident of Haleia spraining her ankle.The spring goats had grown well, and they’d slaughtered a few young bucks for the harvest feast.Ethyr recognized the pleasure in Mikel’s eyes as he spoke of the tender meat—a treat Ethyr could well remember anticipating, but that now seemed simple in comparison to the meats and sweet pastries he ate every day.
Mikel spoke of his travels south, the strange characters he’d met, the challenges he’d overcome.It didn’t sound like he’d run into the kind of unsavory people that Ethyr had.Mikel wasn’t a master storyteller by any means, but his quick wit and jocular way of seeing the world meant his tales were a pleasure to listen to, and some of his tongue-in-cheek anecdotes had Ethyr laughing until his sides cramped and his cheeks hurt, and his heart ached with the familiarity of their entwined laughter.
“I knew it was the only chance I’d get to see you in person, so I followed them to the coronation.And… you know the rest.”Mikel leaned back into his palm, watching Ethyr with bright eyes, the firelight illuminating his silhouette.Ethyr’s heart was going to throb out of his chest.“So… what’s it like here?”Mikel asked.“What happened after that man took you away?”
That man.That was all Yorith was to him; to the whole village.Just a stranger who showed up for a few minutes and then left.How Ethyr yearned for that to be his only memory of Yorith, too.He swallowed.
“We traveled on the river for a few days to reach Mahyria.”The details were hazy in his mind, now.It all felt so long ago, though it had been but a few months.“He taught me how to read and write… then I had to study history and music and conversation.It’s all been so boring and lonely.”
“But don’t you have to do king… stuff?”Mikel asked curiously.
Mikel didn’t know.None of them knew what kings were for, what they did.They were just faceless names tacked on to decrees and gossip, and vague reassurances that every good fortune and turn of season was because of the king pleasing the gods.
“Not really.The advisor and council make all the decisions and take care of governing.I’m just a decorated puppet.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.You have all that food, all this space, these people doing whatever you tell them to… You must havesomefun.”
Ethyr cleared his throat, but it didn’t prevent the heat creeping up it and spreading over his face.Much like when he was spread over a lounge chair, or over a lap, or on the floor…
An image flashed in his mind of Mikel between his knees, gripping his hips, gaze washing over Ethyr’s exposed body with the same salacious delight as the gods.
He hastily wiped the intruding thought away, burning hotter.Mikel watched him with open interest.
“It’s—just—it’s nothing like—like home,” he stammered, not even sure if the sentence would be coherent until it was out.“N-nothing to do all day… no one to talk to.”
Mikel shrugged a little.“Well, without you, I don’t really have anyone to talk to, either.It’s been awful.”
“Really?”Ethyr asked, turning to face him more fully.
“Yeah.The thought of going through the winter without you…” He shook his head, but didn’t elaborate beyond that.
Ethyr hadn’t thought about the fact that Mikel had lost his best friend, just as he had.He had at least retained the whole community, but Ethyr couldn’t imagine life in the village without Mikel either.He’d be pretty bored and miserable, too.But enough to travel weeks out of the only place he’d ever known, without the slightest guarantee that he’d be able to see his friend, let alone talk to him again?
