Page 77 of The Boy Bride

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Vanu woke to the early morning light streaming in his open window onto the bed. He stretched and froze mid-motion as he realized he was not alone in the bed. Lill was sleeping curled up beside him, facing toward Vanu, hands tucked under his chin.

Vanu sat up and looked at him. He had no memory of Lill coming into his bed, and if he had woken, he would remember it. He didn’t generally sleep through someone creeping into his room—if he did, he’d have been killed years ago. Yet Lill had not only crept into the room but slipped into bed next to Vanu without waking him.

Where did you learn to do that?

He wanted to stroke Lill’s silky hair, but he also wanted to let Lill sleep undisturbed. No telling how long the boy had lain awake in his own bed before swallowing his pride and sneaking in here. So Vanu lay back down and watched Lill sleep as the sky brightened outside the window.

If you had come in here with a knife, would I have woken before you could use it?

He looked across at the nail in the wall where White Viper’s dagger used to hang. He had put it away, along with Lill’s throwing knives, when he was preparing the house to receive his bride. There were other weapons around—he always had a knife or two on his person, or close by when he was sleeping—so there was no real sense in hiding those particular blades. But somehow, to leave them lying around—to give them back to Lill, even—well, he hadn’t even considered it.

Presently Lill stirred and woke, and Vanu watched him remember where he was and look up carefully to see if his husband was awake.

“Morning,” Vanu signed.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind that I came in here.”

“Told you to, if you couldn’t sleep.”

“Mm. I appreciate it.”

Vanu frowned. “I’m your husband. Got a duty to look after you.”

“Right.”

Was it Vanu’s imagination, or was Lill uncomfortable with the idea of being looked after? As if no one had treated him that way before. But that wasn’t true; Davanu had taken care of Lill for years. Maybe he’d done it clumsily, making the boy feel he owed something. That didn’t seem like Davanu, but you never knew. Vanu had never been very clear-eyed where Davanu was concerned.

“Nah, not what I mean. My pleasure to look after you.”

He turned on his side and reached out to stroke Lill’s hair, sinking the tips of his fingers into the smooth black strands around his face. His hair was braided simply for the night, a single thick rope. Vanu drew the braid forward over Lill’s shoulder and ran it through his hand.

“Love that you wear it so long,” he remarked.

“It’s the custom of my mother’s people. It’s supposed to be—” He broke off, a faint look of embarrassment on his face.

“Manly,” Vanu finished for him, grinning. He wound Lill’s braid loosely around his wrist. “I know. Thing about me—that doesn’t put me off.”

“I guess it wouldn’t. I was actually—a little—concerned. That I wouldn’t be masculine enough for you. Because you like men. I’ve always been told I’m more like a girl, that I should have been a girl … ”

“Don’t. No. You’re perfect.” Vanu didn’t know any more words to shut down that nonsense, so he leaned in and kissed Lill on the mouth, hoping that would help make the point.

The boy was so tense he was almost vibrating, and as Vanu drew back and looked at him, he found himself thinking suddenly of Madurasha on the battlefield that last day, how he had looked when he realized Vanu had got the better of him.

He unwound Lill’s braid from his hand like dropping a snake and shifted back on the bed. He’d never wanted to fuck anyone who looked at him with fear like that. He had, he’d done that, because it had been expected, because it had been the thing he had to do, sometimes. He never wanted to do it again.

“You and Atari get on great,” he said, grasping for a cheerful, innocent topic. “Happy for that.”

“Oh. Yes. She’s lovely. We have lots to talk about.” Lill embraced the change of subject eagerly. “She was very surprised I didn’t know how to play her hiding game yesterday, though. I mean, I’d never done such a thing as a game, you know, instead of a training exercise.”

Vanu looked at him, thinking of that little boy running across his father’s courtyard a decade ago. Surely that little boy had played games. Did Lill not even remember that time?

“Didn’t have much of a childhood, did you?” Vanu said.

“No. I didn’t.”

“My fault, wasn’t it?”