Page 24 of The Scent of the Ideal

The ointment on his fingers was thick but not unpleasant. It grew warmer as he carefully smoothed it into Rafi’s skin. Rafi shivered as he watched Viau’s loose curls slip from their ribbon to fall forward and hide Viau’s face as he worked. He spent several moments wondering if he was allowed to brush them back behind Viau’s ear as Viau often did to him, but in the end clenched his hands at his sides and sought to control his breathing.

It was then that he realized his aer was fine, that his hold had not slipped even slightly, and frowned at Viau in bewilderment. If he was going to lose control, wouldn’t it be with Viau’s aer close and beckoning, and Viau’s hand gentle over the injuries he had given him?

“Seeds of the rylin pepper,” Viau said, as though Rafi had any idea what that meant.

“What?” His voice was reedy. “Seeds?”

“To ease sore muscles and help with minor aches and pains. It’s a quick-growing plant as well. Healers love it. It does leave a burn in the fingertips, though. And uh, don’t touch it before you touch yourself elsewhere, unless you enjoy that sort of thing.”

“What?” Rafi asked again, feeling helpless and stupid and hot. Maybe the heat was the pepper seeds in the ointment. Maybe it was Viau rubbing soft circles into a bruise with his name on it.

Viau took his hand away with a sigh and straightened up. The stopper went on the pot and then he handed the pot to Rafi—put it into Rafi’s hand while Rafi stared at him.

“Thank you.”

That was what Rafi was supposed to say. Rafi, about to say it even though he was still confused, closed his mouth.

He opened it again. “Me? Thank you. I haven’t done anything but get hit twice.”

Viau ignored that completely. “Do you want to do this again soon? I am busy tomorrow.” His mouth tightened briefly. “But I can do this again four days from now. And maybe in some evenings, if you prefer. But I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

What? Rafi kept that one inside, though barely. “I would have said that about you. You have more demands on you than I do.”

Viau rolled up a sleeve to rub the excess ointment on his fingers into his forearm, probably to be rid of it. “Many things I must do. Few that I want to do.”

“This is respite?” Rafi had never been that before, for anyone. His siblings were, or had been, fond of him, and his friends liked his company. But no one came to Rafi for comfort, or play, or whatever this was. He nodded to himself as he considered it and adjusted to the warmth behind his ribs. “My evenings are less free, now. I’ve been…. I took your suggestion seriously, and went to the healers, and they gave me what I suspect are the exercises for novice healers who use aer. In the evenings,” while he had his shared room to himself, “I practice.”

He was to leave his own aer alone, for healers who used their own aer to heal burned out quickly. This meant he was supposed to take a small amount of aer from something, not someone, and then imagine weaving a braid with it. First a three-strand braid, and then if he gained confidence, add more strands. The practice was similar to meditation, but with an object to focus on.

He had also asked the healer if it was usual to be distracted by the scent of a particular person even outside of aedis. The healer—an aide that day and not a fully trained healer—had told him he probably needed to get laid and his body was confusing that with aedis impulses.

Rafi didn’t mention that part, since he and Viau had not touched on the subject of his upcoming aedis and Rafi didn’t want to be the first to bring it up. That might have been cowardly, to not want to seem too desperate, or too eager, although he didn’t think Viau would mind.

He didn’t want to be a disruption in Viau’s schedule even if Viau had enjoyed himself the first time, and thought he ought to be able to handle it himself now that he knew what to expect. But also… he didn’t want to.

It was indulgent to even think of it. But now he wondered if Viau might understand that. He was the palace favorite but not much of his time seemed to be his own.

“Do you wish you could indulge yourself more?” Rafi asked without thinking, licking his lips when Viau brought his head up and their eyes met. “I meant, with your plays and such. Your friends.”

“The plays are entertainment.” Viau watched Rafi, or maybe whatever fluttered through Rafi’s spirit. “But I wouldn’t call them an indulgence. Maybe at a public theater and not at court—I am working, usually, when at court.”

Rafi nodded, understanding that.

“Outside of that, I visit with friends and talk. But that’s not an indulgence, Rafi.” His tone was almost tender. “To have friends.”

“Right,” Rafi agreed blankly, nodding again. “No, I know that.” He glanced away from Viau’s observant gaze and raised eyebrow that said he knew Rafi lied. “I meant something selfish, maybe, or wasteful? No, that’s wrong. Perhaps as if there is a smarter option, a correct option, but you want to ignore that and choose the less-correct option. The option that feels better?”

He forced himself to turn back to Viau.

Viau had no smile but his tone was warm and his voice was slightly rough. “That isn’t wasteful. Though it might be selfish. I’m not a philosopher to know for sure. But I don’t believe someone, say, choosing a comfortable option over a practical one is wrong for wanting that if both options work. But why ask me this?”

“They think I worry too much,” Rafi answered instead of saying that he was asking because Viau was the comfortable option. Though comfortable was not the word. It wasn’t good enough.

Viau shrugged, his gaze darting down to Rafi’s shoulder, still bared for him. He spoke after Rafi tugged his shirt back into place.

“Worrying too much allows you to think of possibilities and plan for them. That can be useful.” He gestured to the swords lying on the ground. “It can also make you unhappy, or so it appears to the rest of us. As to your original question: work in the palace is often tedious, even if it is a luxury to be there, so I indulge myself as much as I can when away from court.”

“It’s why you live here?” Rafi was beginning to understand that too. “So you have a space for yourself?”