Page 59 of The House of the Red Balconies

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me?”

“You threatened me first.”

“Well, so you’d leave. You’re not really as ill as you pretend to be, then. I knew it.”

All Zo’s years of learning to resist this kind of nettling couldn’t prevent anger surging in him.

“The only pretence I make about my health is that sometimes I pretend to be less sick than I feel. But I’ve long since stopped expecting you to have the decency to believe that.”

Mistress Aula gave an exaggerated gasp. “You have the gall to talk about not being believed when you lied about who you are for five years?”

“I didn’t, as a matter of fact. I haven’t told any story about my past that isn’t true. Zo isn’t a made-up name—it’s what my father called me when I was a boy, and I told Theano it was short for Zoharaza when I first got here. None of you thought I was an open book. It doesn’t matter—believe what you like about me. I got here from Zash with this body, and I can get off the island with it if I have to. You can drive me to it or not, as you choose.”

“Fine, if you think me a harpy, I will play the part.” She surged to her feet, radiating indignation. “Get a garland from Governor Loukianos or Timon of Kos, I don’t care which, by Orante’s Month, or I’ll spread your name—your title, your father’s name, whatever it is you don’t want people to know—about the whole island!”

Hylas could tell that Zo was tired that evening. He looked pale and seemed to have difficulty focussing on what his guests were saying; Hylas heard him ask people to repeat themselves, with very gracious apologies, a couple of times. He thought guiltily of their morning together and how much it might have cost Zo, when his strength was so limited. He wished he could move to sit beside Zo and offer his shoulder to rest against, help him keep up with the conversation, maybe even let him fall asleep for a little and take over his job of entertaining the guests. What an absurd thought.

All he could do was wait out the evening, lighting a second stick of incense that he could ill afford, so that he could be there at the end of the night to walk Zo back to his room.

They made their way down the stairs in silence and then stood outside the doors to their rooms, wrapped in each other’s arms, Zo resting his head on Hylas’s shoulder.

“Will you come in for a bit?” Zo asked finally.

“I was just about to ask if I might.”

“Any time you like.”

“Don’t say that. It must also be any time you like.”

Zo nuzzled against him and dropped a kiss lightly on Hylas’s jaw. “It is, though. That’s what I meant.”

Hylas followed him inside, lit the lamp, and steered Zo gently toward the bed.

“I’m afraid, my love, I’m not in any state for—” Zo began, a graceful but clearly automatic speech.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hylas cut him off sternly. “I will sit on the floor and not bother you.”

Zo was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Hylas dropped down resolutely to sit at his feet. Zo looked at him for a moment in the semi-darkness, then reached out and took Hylas’s face between his hands and rested his cheek against Hylas’s hair.

“One might say we should take any opportunity when we’re alone together, while we can.” He released Hylas and sat back up. “Because when I get a patron, we won’t be able to any more.”

Hylas nodded. They hadn’t spoken of this before, but of course he had understood it. Patronage implied exclusivity; that was the whole point.

“I know. I wish I could offer to be your patron, but … ”

There was a moment of charged silence. He realized he’d never said that before.

“Do you?” said Zo finally.

“Yes, of course. I don’t mean—I mean because it would help you, because you need a patron. Not because I want any kind of power over you. I want you to be able to rely on me as a friend, not as a … a keeper. Above all I don’t want you to be at the mercy of anyone who would treat you unkindly.”

Zo nodded, his expression inward. “I wish you could be my patron too, Hylas. I didn’t know if you would want it. But I think it would be different, if it were you. The meaning would be different. It’s not possible?” He looked up, meeting Hylas’s gaze again.

“I don’t have the means to support you. I wish I did, I wish more than anything I did.”

“Ah. I’m not much accustomed to thinking about money.”

Hylas laughed bitterly. “Neither am I, in truth.”