Page 10 of Noble Charms

“Oh, do your enemies call you something else?”

“Future-Earl,” Noble said, and he didn’t bother to hide the way his lip curled at that. “When I marry. I’ll be Earl, not Lord.”

Aria said, tilting his head as he considered it, “Earl Noble Yves. You’re right. It doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

Noble couldn’t help but to grin. “See?” His childhood logic, even after all these years, held strong.

“I suppose I do.”

Noble coughed. “Let’s eat, Aria, my friend. After you.” There was no door to hold, this time, but if there had been—he would have grabbed it himself.

ARIA

Aria awoke the next morning determined to start fresh. He braided his hair in several long rows, fastened the bardic knot on the front of his robe with an extra loop for flair, and left his room with an optimistic hop. Noble’s behavior had improved by the time they sat for dinner—Aria pointing out a few simple facts about his “Commoner” charade being a charade helped.

But when they parted to their separate rooms, Noble had asked, “When was the last time you were intimate with a man, then?” And Aria was overcome with horror. Of course he hadn’t answered. He would never answer a question like that. Slamming the door in Noble’s face wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been, either.

A full night’s rest had him thinking more clearly, though, and he thought perhaps his own mourning—leaving home, and Argosin, and all he knew—had clouded his judgment. Noble had been charming occasionally. Aria needed only focus on that. Aria was going to approach him with grace and poise, and they could be civil, if not even friendly.

But then Noble opened his big bearded mouth.

“You really are pretty,” said Noble, yawning into a mug of hot tea, eyes scanning Aria’s face the way predators scanned prey. “Nearly pretty enough for me to suggest you work as an adame for me. I imagine the salary for such a role in my court would be astronomical, too.”

The omelette Aria had eaten turned heavy inside his stomach. “Is this a thinly veiled proposition? First thing in the morning?” Aria choked on the words, the horror of the prospect making it hard for him to talk.

He’d been told his entire life that he was built for adame work. Because Aria had a secret: his magic was beyond that of an ordinary bard. In fact, his work as a bard helped to hide the fact his connection to the magical veil was so strong that he didn’t need an instrument to conduct spells. He could pull them out of air, with just a thought.

It was a rare gift. One that human nobles coveted.

And that’s why he kept such powers hidden behind a lute. He didn’t want to be an instrument.

Noble made an ignoble noise, inhaling tea up his nose. He cleared his throat, wiping his face, and raised an incredulous, thick eyebrow. “I don’t prefer the company of men like that. I meant it as a compliment—a hypothetical.” He was like everyone else. Hoping to use Aria’s gifts, or his good looks, for his own ends.

Aria’s optimism had curdled and left him sick. He hissed, “I will not go to bed with you. You’re Sylvia’s boyfriend. And she loves you.” Was that why he’d been aghast at Aria’s story the day before? Noble skepticism of Aria’s desire for love was rooted in Aria’s station. He was an elf particularly well-suited for the adame craft. He wouldn’t be loved by anyone. He’d be used by them for his magic that made human lives longer, healthier. Aria’s pale anxiety turned to a hot red rage. “I especially will not go to bed with you thinking of me as a woman to satisfy your preferences.”

“May the Sun God light my pyre himself. I didn’t mean to imply that I wanted you. I meant only that I hadn’t realized—yesterday—” He stumbled over his words, face pinched in frustration. Aria had no doubt Noble was not used to being rejected, especially by someone truly common. “Well, I noticed how you look, of course, but it struck me this morning. Your hair, like this, in braids—it’s pretty. You’d appeal to all types. I was complimenting you.”

Face burning with humiliation, Aria abruptly stood from the breakfast table in the dining room. Civility had been Aria’s plan, and Noble had snorted tea all over it. “I’ll be waiting in the carriage when you’re ready to depart.”

As he walked away, knees near to locking up, he heard Noble say, “Wait. Aria—wait. Shit.”

Outside, he employed the horn-bearer attendant to prepare the horses and coach, and stomped to the far end of the inn’s fence to stare out into the quiet cobblestone street of the village. A few small, colorful birds twittered, pecking at crumbs, and a woman hummed in the distance, muffled by the shutters in her home. This particular hamlet had stonecraft homes, built with colorful rock and thatched roofs, and soft moss climbed every surface. It was soft and quiet and reminded Aria of home.

So close, said his soul.

Aria closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the hamlet, and hummed in harmony with the birds, the wind, and the folks pittering about. The fuzzy veil of the arcane came to him as easily as always, wrapping around him, buzzing against his skin, alighting the song in his throat.

The spell he called for now, Soothe, was an easy one—taught to young elves in his family as they toddled around. Aria had been using it his whole life, and his time at university helped him to perfect its effect to calm a quickened pulse, strained muscles, and mild headaches. He breathed more easily as he completed the song, and a dragonfly nearby slumped peacefully against the fence. Even the grass at his feet seemed to gleam a little more brightly as the sun rose behind fluffy white clouds above.

“Sir?” called the attendant. “Carriage’s ready to ride.”

Aria looked over his shoulder and gave the man a smile. “My thanks.”

The stranger reacted with wide eyes and stiff shoulders. He appeared to struggle, nodding, and said, “O-of c-course. Sir.”

Aria closed some of the distance between them, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and observe the man for injury. “Are you well? The girls didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” He exhaled, bowed, and scrambled back to the stable interior. He shouted, “Thanks for stayin’, and all. Goodbye!"