Chapter 69 - Pompous

ETAN

As they jogged back down the road towards the arena, Etan suddenly remembered. "How was your ride with Trystan yesterday?" he asked carefully, still uncertain she'd recovered from his outburst.

She smiled. "Very well, actually. He will be an ally."

Etan frowned. "It seems very early to be calling someone an ally. We can't know yet what his feelings are about—"

"He guessed, about you and me. He's told no one. Instead he came to speak with me."

Etan stopped running and pulled her to face him, gaping. "What did you say?"

She gave him a flat look. "I said, he had guessed about us. That we want to be together and plan to marry. And he wants to help keep us hidden from others until the Accord. He said he's a romantic and if he can't have love himself, it's a joy to help others find theirs."

"You confirmed his suspicion?!"

"I tried not to, but he was so certain, Etan. All I would have done was push him away into the arms of others. He is lonely. He needs friends."

Etan's jaw dropped, but he closed it and ran a hand through his hair. She was utterly innocent, and loved people. Of course she assumed they loved her too. "Ayleth, we must be incredibly careful. Many rulers are… very skilled liars. I know you like to be honest, but not everyone is."

"Please, Etan, you think you need to school me on the intrigues of Court? I was raised on the milk of it."

"Then how you can be so careless as to trust someone we barely know with such a secret?"

Her face went flat. "Because I am not an idiot, and I knew he wasn't to be swayed from it. You weren't there, Etan. He has regard for me. And… for you. He wishes to be a friend. A true friend. He helped you with Isolde, didn't he?"

"It wouldn't be the first time someone has pretended to—"

"You think I can't tell the difference between someone who speaks to manipulate me?" she said, her hands on her hips. "I would wager I have a better ability than you to see through the layers of people to what is at the heart. You are jaded, sir!"

Etan scoffed. "Ayleth, please, I know you are a skilled conversationalist, and know how to play the game at Court. I do. But you haven't had to carry the secrets of a Kingdom through—"

Her mouth dropped open. "That's what this is about. All of it!"

"What?"

"You think I'm a child! You think because I have chosen not to hide myself from you that I cannot hide from anyone. Because I have been honest with you, that I am honest with all—and expect the same from them."

"Well… no, not entirely. But you and your parents are very open with each other. I understand if you've come to believe that most people—"

"Oh, do shut up, Etan. You're sounding pompous again." And she started running again.

He stared after her for a moment, then ran to catch up, his anger rising. "Again? I am not pompous!"

"When you think you know better than others, you absolutely are," she said. "And I like it when it's aimed at someone like Lord Isolde. But at me? I will not stand for it, Etan. I give myself to you openly by choice, not because I trust the world. You had my heart from the moment we met. I don't know how it happened, but it did. So you get things from me that others do not. When I choose to share information with others, it is because I have measured the wisdom of it."

They reached the gate into the yard outside the arena and Etan found himself uneasy.

She had hidden her fighting abilities for several years. From everyone.

She had been sneaking to the stable for years, too.

She wasn't incapable of subterfuge, he knew that—and he'd seen her fool entire crowds of people into believing she was happy, or distracted.

But he wasn't pompous!

"Ayleth," he said through his teeth, "I did not mean to imply that you cannot hide yourself if you wish to. I know—and I am honored—that you share yourself with me so openly. I do. But—"

They'd reached the door to the arena and she shot him a look over her shoulder as she opened it, not waiting for him to get it for her, and stalked into the dirt arena where Borsche and Falek stood, discussing whatever men of their type discussed.

"Falek, attend me, please."

"What is it, Ayleth?"

"Would you kindly describe to Lord Summit the previous summer when we were at Court with the Hantrens?

"Certainly. Which part?"

She pursed her lips. "The part where Lord Etan is pompous—" Borsche snorted "—and sees me as a child who is incapable of deceit. He believes I trust too easily, and cannot wisely keep secrets."

Falek turned a very disapproving gaze on Etan who clenched his jaw.

"I never said she couldn't deceive people—"

"He is quite pompous, Princess, you're correct there," Borsche interrupted him with a wink. Etan gave him a very flat look.

"I'm aware," she replied. "Falek? Perhaps you could inform the Prince of my… talents?"

"Does he need to hear about the court? He has evidence of his own: You fought him hand-to-hand and he thought you a man."

Borsche chuckled again. "She's got you there, Etan."

"Would you shut up!" he hissed, then turned to Ayleth. "I never said I didn't think you capable of deceit. I said that we must be so careful—and already you have told your Knight, and—"

"She didn't tell me, I guessed," Falek said. "She tried to hide it, but she is like a sister to me. I know all her little pieces. I forced her to admit it or I would tell her parents."

Ayleth colored. Etan stepped between them. "You would threaten her to drive her in the direction you think is best?"

"No," Falek said, "Until I knew who it was, I threatened her for her own safety. Imagine if she'd fallen into the hands of one such as your friend Isolde?"

"So, you agree, she can be taken in!" Etan said triumphantly.

"There isn't a human being alive who cannot be deceived, Etan," Falek said sternly. "But I'll tell you that Ayleth is an extremely good judge of character, which is in part why I have not revealed her attachment to you to anyone. Yet." He bit the word off, and raised a single eyebrow.

Etan held his gaze and they both swelled.

"Oh, for shitting sake!" Ayleth growled. "Don't you both start now."

Etan blinked. "What was that?"

Falek swallowed twice, but managed to keep his face straight, despite Borsche's outright spluttering laughter.

"The Lady Ayleth likes to… collect swears," Falek said. "But she has not yet always mastered the use of them."

"Did I do it wrong again? Dammit."

Etan stared at her and his heart swelled at the vexation on her face. She was… so desperately unique. So supremely perfect. Why were they fighting?

"Oh, that reminds me, Etan," she said turning to him. "What is fuck? And why would you call it holy?"

Borsche and Falek both slowly turned to look at him.

Borsche tilted his head. "Please, do explain for the lady, Etan. And in context, please."

Fuck.