Page 29 of The Scent of the Ideal

“I said ‘tell.’” Viau took another deep breath. “But I can write from the palace.”

“That’s not even why I’m tired,” Rafi complained. He couldn’t believe himself, whining to Viau, moping over some extra work.

“Then why are you tired? Truly, not a single dumpling?” Viau nudged Rafi’s plate even closer.

“I….” Looking over his shoulder now would make Rafi appear guilty, so he didn’t do it. He hoped no one was paying them any attention but he doubted that was so. “Must you be so famous?” Another whine escaped him.

Viau reached out to take Rafi’s hand. “I’ve failed you.”

Rafi rolled his eyes as though his heart wasn’t pounding. “I didn’t say that. You’re teasing me again.”

Viau stroked the back of Rafi’s hand and then considered Rafi’s fingers, the sword calluses and the bruising at his knuckles. Rafi shivered with fever at the idea that Viau might kiss those bruises.

But he didn’t. He sighed and said, “It’s my fault you’re wearing those. And they weren’t even from me.” He met Rafi’s stare and held it. “Two days and I’ll be back. If I have to scruff my cousin, then so be it. At least when I am in the stocks or the dungeon, you’ll know I meant it. Now you are gazing at me in such a way that would be calculated from anyone else. One day, it probably will be. I doubt I’ll care then, either.”

“I don’t know what you mean and I’m not… I’m not feeling well.” Rafi didn’t hiss it, but he feared he was cross, and Viau would take offense or a new rumor would start. He was hardly going to shout about his aedis, even if he had made a scene the last time.

“I know.” Viau released him to clench his hands into fists on the table. “I’ve never been in this position. All those scenes in all those plays and poems are alive as they weren’t before. And my family has the audacity to call me away.” He clucked his tongue, probably for Rafi’s frown. “You were glad to see me? If you weren’t feeling so poorly, you’d never have admitted to that.”

And he called Rafi a killer.

“Everyone likes you.” Rafi grumbled it. “Too much.”

“I can’t even stay to treat you kindly.” Viau was complaining, or pouting, or teasing Rafi; Rafi couldn’t tell.

“Viau, please.” It wasn’t giving in. It was playing along until he saw his chance to strike. Or more likely, at the moment, to be killed and get a chance to lie down.

Viau stood up. “Two days.” If he was teasing, he hid it well. “Two days, and I will feed you then if you don’t do it yourself. On your honor, swear to me that you will finish those dumplings and allow yourself some butter.”

Other people would definitely hear him.

Rafi stared up at him. “I’ve been looking after myself since I was a child.”

“I’ve no doubt of that.” Cold but also furious, Viau still did not smile. “Swear to me, and believe me when I say I’ll return for you.”

“My honor for dumplings?” Rafi grumbled, hot in the face, hot everywhere, quivering inside where no one would ever see. “It matters that much?” Evidently it did if honor was at stake, although who would Viau duel over it? Rafi? Killing him to get him to eat was ridiculous, but Rafi didn’t laugh. “Yes. All right. On my honor.” He wanted to squirm. “They’re only dumplings, though. Miné are foolish.”

“Undoubtedly,” Viau agreed. “I am not in my right mind and all here would agree with me. But thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything but go along.” Rafi was arguing again, grumpy and slouched, and smiling about it.

“Two days, Rafeli Tizzan,” Viau responded as if he didn’t care who heard him, and reached out to brush Rafi’s curls away only to stop and pull back before he made contact. He bowed instead, like the hall was the royal court or maybe a stage, before turning.

Rafi watched him until he was out of sight, then lowered his head so that he wouldn’t have to see how many eyes had been on Viau that were now on him. He sat, facing down dumplings with something light in his chest.

Then he ate them. His honor was involved, and he was starving.

Chapter Ten

Rafi ate to fill his stomach the following two days as well, although his promise had not extended that far. It wasn’t only that his honor was involved, or that Viau had correctly guessed that the challenge would get him to eat, it was the shamefully pleasing notion that the challenge was Viau’s way to feed him, much like how Laure would fill an extra plate from the kitchen for Katoh before and after her aedis. Or how Katoh would sit on a cranky Laure the day before his rut came on and insist he at least eat an apple; his perforis was in autumn, and apples were plentiful and one of the few foods he could be coaxed or bullied into eating while in its grip.

It was smart to learn to take care of himself before aedis, Rafi told himself, eyes on the sun in the sky as the days passed. He would need to manage it on his own in the future, without friends to remind him. He ate and did his own training but took a break from showing younger students what fights with few rules looked like.

Conscious of how much he sweated as his aedis heightened, he now fully appreciated the healer’s instruction to drink more water, so he did that too. Then he walked despite the early summer sun making him hotter, though he kept to the shade of the gardens and enclosed corridors where sunlight did not reach. He told himself he’d eventually go to the healers to arrange for an isolation room.

He never made it there. Even Katoh could not find him as he walked, then paced, and then stopped completely to watch the sky begin to darken as he felt the first pulse.

He hadn’t admitted to himself that he’d been looking forward to Viau’s arrival until it was clear that Viau would not arrive.