Chapter Twenty~six

Is That Why You're Sad?

Part Three

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Tamyn leaned his forehead against the wall, his hand hovering over the doorknob for several minutes before finally opening the door.

The banquet room was decorated in similar fashion to the main dining room, hung with sheer, tasseled curtains and colorful lanterns, the same tile floor and ceiling and murals on the walls, but with a large, low table in the center of the room with mounds of fringed, damask cushions strewn on the floor about it.

Abrizhen half-lay in the cushions, leaning over the table, resting his head in one hand. His face was slack and reddened, hair a mess. His frock coat had been tossed carelessly aside, and he had loosened his cravat and shirt collar.

As the door opened, his cup stopped halfway to his lips and his languid eyes raised slowly. He laughed low and under his breath.

“Of course,” he said miserably.

Tamyn closed the door behind him but stood still there, casting a benign gaze over Abrizhen, his face gentle but unreadable. One couldn't tell from looking how he felt his chest tighten around his heart, anxiety squeezing the breath out of him.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly.

“What does it look like I'm doing?”

“Wallowing,” Tamyn answered. “Drinking too much.”

“Well, there you have it,” Abrizhen said, waving a hand to the door as if Tamyn should see himself back through it.

“Making trouble for Didia,” Tamyn said.

Abrizhen blew out a heavy breath.

“I don't want to make trouble for anyone,” he said sadly.

“You came here to make trouble for your sister,” Tamyn reminded him, his voice still gentle, with a bit of a coaxing tone now.

“I don't want to make trouble for her either,” Abrizhen moaned, dropping his head onto the table, hiding most of his face. “I don't want any of this. She thinks I hate her? Dear gods, Tam, these things I've been saying. She must hate me now. How could she not?”

Tamyn hesitated, then came to the table and sat adjacent to Abrizhen, who peered at him through his fingers.

“She said you wanted to see me,” Abrizhen told him.

Tamyn frowned in puzzlement.

“I... didn't tell her anything...”

“You wouldn't have to,” Abrizhen said darkly. “She just knows. You should be careful of her, Tam. She's a witch. She just knows things. Stay away from her if you can.”

“Weren't you just sorry for saying awful things about her?”

A sound of frustration came from Abrizhen and he closed his eyes before opening one again to peer sideways at Tamyn.

“Did you?” he whispered, his lips trembling slightly. “Want to see me?”

Tamyn went silent with uncertainty.

Abrizhen raised his cup again and almost missed his mouth, sending a rivulet of wine spilling down his chin.

Frowning, Tamyn stood and came around the corner of the table. He leaned down and took Abrizhen's arm to haul him up.

“Come on,” he said, firmly but still gently. “You have to go back now. It's almost closing time.”

Although Abrizhen had a much more robust build than Tamyn, the latter was far stronger than his lithe frame would suggest, and he easily pulled Abrizhen up to his feet.

Once up, though, Abrizhen swayed, threw his arms around Tamyn's neck and pitched forward, planting his lips firmly upon Tamyn's before tightening his grip.

Tamyn's heart jumped and began to race, but he carefully contained himself. He pressed his own lips firmly together, furrowed his brow, reaching behind his head to take Abrizhen's wrists and pull his arms away.

Abrizhen was stubborn, though, and Tamyn had to use a bit of force to unlock his hold. Abrizhen stumbled backward and fell into the cushions, lying there now with half-closed eyes and a drunken smile across his face.

Tamyn licked his lips, tasting the trace of sweet wine that remained behind, and gave an exasperated sigh as Abrizhen's eyelids fluttered open and tried to train an unfocused gaze on him.

“My suite at the embassy has a giant window in one wall,” Abrizhen said lazily. “It overlooks the river valley, with the castle right in the middle. It's breathtaking scenery.”

He smiled sadly.

“But all I can do is stare at your tower, and wonder which window is yours.”

Tamyn took in a deep breath, which trembled as he let it out slowly.

“Father only gets better at devising tortures for me,” Abrizhen said bitterly.

“Your father doesn't know about me,” Tamyn said. “So I doubt that was deliberate.”

“Are you defending him now?” Abrizhen said with a sarcastic laugh.

“Never,” Tamyn replied solemnly.

“He killed my mother,” Abrizhen whispered. “I don't care how much Kazia hates me, she wouldn't lie to me about that. He fucking killed my mother.”

“I didn't know she was going to say that,” Tamyn told him. “I might have suggested a more private setting.”

Abrizhen squeezed his eyes shut.

“Anyway, I'm not going back tonight,” he said. “Ambassador. What a fucking joke. I'm fine right here.”

“You can't...”

A soft knock came on the door, and it slowly opened as Didia hesitantly entered with a tray bearing a silver coffee service.

Tamyn took it and set it down on the table, but looked long at Abrizhen, who lay in the cushions with eyes closed, breathing evenly now.

“It may be too late for coffee,” Tamyn said. “Do you have an available guest room? It might be best to just let him sleep it off.”

“Of course,” Didia said. “I'll bring the coffee up too, just in case.”

Tamyn hauled the half-asleep Abrizhen up again, draping one of his arms over his own shoulders, and half-dragged him up the stairs behind Didia.

She opened a door, set the coffee down inside, lit a lamp, and turned the bed down before leaving them alone.

Tamyn lowered Abrizhen into the bed and pulled his shoes off before tucking the blanket around him. He sat down then on the bedside.

Abrizhen lay with closed eyes, if not asleep then at least mostly insensate at this point. His face was peaceful now, his lips red from the alcohol, moist and slightly parted. Since Tamyn had last seen him this closely, he had gained a crease across his forehead, and a few radiant lines around his eyes.

He reached out a slightly shaky hand and smoothed the locks of Abrizhen's hair away from his face, and inwardly laughed at himself.

It was turning out to be more difficult to walk away than he'd thought it would be.

Finally, drawing a sharp and determined breath, he stood up and turned away.

“Tam...” Abrizhen said, barely a whisper. “Stay with me.”

Tamyn froze for a moment, but softly answered.

“I can't.”

Abrizhen laughed weakly, and Tamyn remembered how, years ago, the two had said the same words to each other, but with their roles reversed.

“How long have you waited for that?” Abrizhen asked, his laugh turning to a soft groan of despair.

“Alright...that's alright. You're not really here anyway...”

His voice trailed off as his breath once again settled into the steady rhythm of sleep. He had passed out again.

Tamyn hesitated, listening to Abrizhen's breath, then went to the desk on one side of the room and found a piece of writing paper and a pencil. He took these to the low table in the sitting area, sat on a floor cushion, and began to draw.

He drew the castle, from the angle it would be seen from the Valeskan Embassy.

He took his time, sketching the river complete with boats at the wharves, the shrubbery that grew along the riverbank, the trees that peeked over the ringed walls of the castle. He shaded some clouds up in the sky. He gave a hint of the bricks of the walls, of the tiles of the rooftops.

Last, he sketched in all the windows of the castle in light strokes of the pencil, but drew his own window in dark, bold lines.

He placed the drawing in the center of the table, and then left the room, closing the door with slow and quiet deliberation.

The restaurant had closed and was emptied of patrons when he returned downstairs. Tamyn began handing Didia money.

“Here, for the room. Just let him sleep until he's ready tomorrow. Here, send him some coffee and fried potatoes in the morning. Get him a carriage back. If he owes you anything for tonight, just put it on my tab.”

“Tamyn,” Didia said sternly, “you shouldn't have to do that.”

“It's fine,” he said. “Really, I am somewhat responsible.”

“You absolutely are not.”

“And I'll talk to Lord Meratha. We shouldn't use your inn for covert operations.”

“We talked already. He figured that out himself.”

“I don't want to put you in the middle of... any of this.”

“I don't know that Zhen will cooperate with that wish,” Didia laughed.

“Probably not, but that's a different matter.”

Tamyn looked thoughtful, even a bit lost.

“I don't mind him coming here,” Didia said. “He was one of our kids too and my door is always open to any of you who need a place to be.”

Tamyn nodded with a sad smile.

“Are you alright, though?” she asked, rubbing his arm.

“I am,” he said. “I will be. I'll be fine. I should get out of your hair and let you finish up.”

He didn't move, though, just stood looking wistfully back at the staircase.

“Alright,” Didia said, giving his arm a playful swat. “I know that look. Get lost before you do something stupid.”

Tamyn lowered his eyes and smiled awkwardly.

“Do you need my carriage?” Didia asked.

“No, I'll go back the way I came,” he answered.

He kissed Didia's cheek, then laid a hand on a door frame and was gone.

 

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