“I miss the slower pace,” Rodian confessed. “But the Midnight Star gave me a road to walk, and I will honor it.”
“How odd to think I would never have met you if your road hadn’t led you to Matriskav.”
Rodian glanced over at him, seeing a wistful expression on the younger man’s face. “I don’t regret my duty.”
Arkadi offered him a smile, face and body haloed by the light they passed. “I’m glad you are here.”
“But not so glad to be with me out in the cold?”
Arkadi threw back his head and laughed, the sound vibrant in the air. “Only for you would I subject myself to a sleigh ride so late at night.”
“I’m honored,” Rodian said dryly. “But if you are still cold, I have something that might help.”
He fit both reins into one hand, keeping an eye on the road. They wouldn’t have to turn for a bit, so he had time to hold out his other hand on the fur blanket between them, gloved palm pointed at the sky. It took only a thought to reach for the aether and the power there to draw forth his magic in the form of starfire. It flickered into life above his hand, a tiny bit of moltenhot magic that had sealed his road, for starfire was always something wielded by royals.
Arkadi hesitated before reaching out with both hands to hold them over the tiny burning flame, the heat of starfire warming the air around them, if no further than that. “Your magic is beautiful.”
Rodian had to bite his tongue so as not to provide Arkadi with the same compliment directed to his whole person. “It has its uses.”
The starfire came and went as he manipulated the reins, wishing the route was longer than it was so as to have more time with Arkadi beside him. He already usurped so much of the younger man’s time, and Rodian knew he shouldn’t want it all, but he did. He was selfish that way, he supposed. Arkadi was excellent at his job, but Rodian appreciated the growing friendship between them more than anything else.
Eventually, they came upon Arkadi’s home, a small estate that still had a light burning within its walls. “Is someone waiting up for you?”
“Most likely a servant. They know I’ve been keeping late hours these last few weeks,” Arkadi said.
Rodian refused to feel guilty about that. “Thank you for indulging me with a ride tonight.”
Arkadi flashed him a smile, laughter in his eyes. “You need only ask.”
There was much Rodian wished he had the courage to ask for when it came to Arkadi, but he wasn’t willing to ruin the working relationship and friendship they had cultivated. Right now, he still desperately needed Arkadi’s insight, and Rodian was loath to complicate things even if a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” Rodian said in a low voice, never looking away from Arkadi’s eyes.
“Good night, my Isar,” Arkadi murmured before sliding out from beneath the fur blanket and out of the sleigh with a fluid grace.
Rodian watched him walk through the gate and up the pathway to his estate’s front door. He didn’t leave until Arkadi was safely ensconced inside, feeling lonelier than he thought he would from the younger man’s absence at his side.
Nine
ARKADI
In the weeks since accepting Rodian’s request to advise him as the Steward of the Crown, Arkadi’s status in the royal court had soared to heights his family had never dared believe they’d see. That didn’t mean other ivoryanin were pleased with the way he had Rodian’s ear and attention.
Arkadi’s family bloodline traded in gossip and secrets, hoarding knowledge of the ivoryanin the way some might hoard clarion crystals mined from the mountains. Those in his family chosen to carve inroads in court how an icebreaker ship would through the northern sea took their job seriously. Their ties to the Star Order meant other families dared not judge them harshly in public. Piety was a weapon his family wielded with the precision of a surgeon over the centuries.
But sometimes, in this Age, the one holding the scalpel was Arkadi.
Out of all his cousins, he alone had been chosen to become a Blade. No one save his mother knew of his hidden skills, and she absolved him of the sins of lives taken in the name of Urova, forthe Midnight Star allowed such forgiveness. The ivoryanin did not murder each other like the Houses did in Solaria to appease the Dawn Star, she who guided Solaria and accepted sacrifices as was her due. But sometimes, such lives needed to be removed from the roads they walked.
But Arkadi wasn’t thinking of taking a life when he and Tavi followed the hostess to a table in the teahouse, their overcoats and hats having been left with the coatroom up front. Tavi had reserved a table in one of the alcoves rather than a private room in the rear of the building. He assumed she wanted the public to know of their friendship due to his newly elevated status at court. Arkadi didn’t mind being used in such a way, not when it was Tavi. He’d known her since they were children, and she remained one of his closest friends.
Arkadi kindly waited for Tavi to take her seat first before sitting as well. Her winter dress was pale blue today, the intricate lace details covering her sleeves and the bodice worth a small fortune. The host bowed slightly before saying, “The tea choices will be out shortly.”
“Thank you,” Tavi said, and the host bustled off. She picked up her linen napkin and folded it over her lap. “I feel as if I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I have been busy,” Arkadi replied, offering her an apologetic smile.
“Yes, with the Isar.”
