“I’m sure he did, but Helra is all the way across the country. They’ll have sent gifts.” Marek sighs. “Sorry, I shouldn’t complain. At least I have a few House Dire cousins here. I still can’t believe Fellrin didn’t send anyone.”
Sei traces the gaps between Marek’s finger, feeling the contrast between Marek’s heat and the cool marble of the altar. “Complain away. I’d really like to have Osric here, but otherwise? I don’t have any family to miss.”
“Not even Naoko?” Marek asks.
The question strikes Sei unawares. A knife slipping past his guard. A wound Sei hadn’t even realized he was guarding against.
Sadness burns without warning between Sei’s lungs.
“Naoko’s husband is probably my father.” Sei barely hears his own voice. “He could have visited me at any time, but I’ve never met him. He and Naoko are married to another woman too, and I’ve never met her either.”
Sei tries to recite the facts calmly. They’ve never hurt him before. But Marek still gently rubs warmth into Sei’s arm.
“Plenty of families raise their grail children,” Sei says. “Naoko didn’t have to give me up. She just didn’t want me enough to keep me.”
Marek exhales. “I think she cares for you, in her own way.”
“That’s great for her. I wish she’d keep it to herself.”
Marek kisses the top of his head. “You’re allowed to feel hurt.”
“Thank you,” Sei whispers, then shakes himself. “Damn you. I was trying to comfort you, and I’ve made it all about me.”
“I don’t mind that at all, teacup.”
Warmth flutters in Sei’s chest. The nickname sounds so fond now. “Boulder. Tell me something nice about Clan Helra. I want to know more about them.”
“Let me think.” Marek squeezes Sei tighter, then lets his hand fall to Sei’s hip. “My first parents died of illness when I was five years old. Wait, I promise this is a happy story.”
Sei snuggles closer under the weight of Marek’s arm. “It doesn’t look good so far.”
Marek’s voice brightens the gloomy hall. The warmth of his body against Sei must be what scalestone does to mages. It’s empowering. Addictive. Or maybe it’s something even more foreign than scalestone. A sense of belonging.
“I spent the next nine years moving from family to family,” Marek says. “Not because nobody wanted me, but because they all did. I was a delightful child. Have you ever had hadarcakes?”
“I haven’t.”
“They’re made from hadarnuts, and they’re annoying to make. Nobody ever does except for special occasions. Families spend the whole week up to the solstice making them.” Marek sighs happily. “Because everybody took care of me, it was so damned easy to scam them from a dozen different families.”
Sei pokes Marek’s thigh. “No wonder you’re so tall. How much did they feed you?”
“My real growth spurt was later.” Marek shifts to play with Sei’s hair. Pleasant tingles follow wherever he touches Sei’s scalp. “Clan Helra was lucky Imrik adopted me. The hadarcakes were nothing compared to how much I ate at seventeen.”
Sei leans into Marek’s touch. Marek pauses, as if suddenly noticing what he’s doing.
“Thank you,” Sei says. “I’m glad you shared that.”
Marek resumes stroking blunt fingers through Sei’s hair. “Giving you my full name feels like I’m erasing your past. Like I’m claiming too much of you.”
“You’re not erasing anything. I don’t even have a middle name to erase. Besides…” Sei trails off, unsure if he’s about to reveal too much. Maybe he’ll scare Marek away again.
“Besides what?” Marek lets go of Sei’s hair, but only to stand in front of him. He touches Sei’s chin. “Your turn to talk.”
“In Fellrin, you don’t use middle names unless a noble honors you with one. Or you can choose an extra name for yourself. Something important to you.” Sei touches Marek’s wrist. “I don’t care whether I’m Sei Mallory or Sei Dire. I would rather just be Sei Marek, because you’re the part of House Dire I actually want. But that would sound insane to you Draskorans.”
Marek’s eyes lower. He touches Sei’s throat. “Say that again.”
Sei’s pulse jumps beneath Marek’s hand. “Which part?”
