Wayfarer (Wanderlust 2)

Chapter Seventeen

Soren's nerves built up as they got closer to the palace, although he would never have been able to explain exactly why. He liked women well enough, and Rayni was certainly very pretty. Tanden would like her—he liked everybody. The answer became a little clearer when they reached the gate, and the two miserable guards, bundled up against the cold, eyed them before letting them through. They didn't seem to care in the slightest, probably recognizing Rayni for who she was. But somehow that bothered Soren, and his feelings shifted slightly as he made sense of them. It wasn't Tanden who made him nervous, or Rayni, but other people. Other people knowing what was happening even when they very likely didn't care.

Caught up in his head, Soren didn't pay any attention as they finally stepped out of the cold and into the palace's front hall. It was still a busy place, even late at night. But then someone pushed off of the wall near the door and stepped closer to them.

"The guards told me you went out with our ranger." Tanden sounded confused more than annoyed, but it was close. "I excused myself from dinner early and arranged to have some brought to you, since you weren't feeling well enough to join me."

Soren's gaze flickered to Jale. Tanden hadn't given her a second glance, and she might as well have not been there. She shrugged, took Rayni's hand, and led her away.

Tanden glanced over his shoulder, catching the women just before they disappeared around a corner. "And who is that?"

"Jale's friend," Soren lied, without puzzling through why.

"Friend?"

"Friend," Soren repeated, and decided to move on and get to the important part. "Captain, you're upset that I lied about not feeling well. It was an excuse to not go to dinner, aye, but you don't need me there. I can't understand anything anyone is saying and I get bored. And I don't belong at fancy meals, anyway, not like you do."

"I'm bored, too." Tanden crossed his arms. "This is exactly why I didn't become an ambassador. At least when you're there I'm not alone."

"You might as well be. You don't talk to me."

Tanden's face fell a little. "Well, no. But not because I don't want to."

"I know." Soren ran a hand over his face. "I know. We're both bored, and I've been trying to help you with that. Come on." He put his hand over Tanden's, and smiled when Tanden uncrossed his arms to take it. "Let's go to our room. You can ask someone to prepare a bath for us."

Tanden let himself be led down the hall. "I suppose I could do that. You do look like you're in need of some warming up. That said, was going out into the snow to find Jale's friend really worth lying to me?"

"Don't get hung up on that."

"Too late, mate."

And there it was, said with an ease Jale couldn't quite imitate. A very common word turned into a term of endearment. Soren gave his hand a squeeze.

They didn't say anything else as they walked up to their room, hands clasped together. In their room, a covered plate was sitting on the table, with two glass chalices and a bottle of irdka. Soren's stomach grumbled, the hike through the city had really built up his appetite, and another pang of guilt hit him. Almost just as quickly, he had an idea. He gave Tanden a nudge towards the couch. "Sit down."

Tanden did, with an exaggerated sigh. "So you're not feeling unwell?"

"I'm fine." Soren poured the irdka, and paused to look under the plate's cover. He popped a piece of flat bread into his mouth before carrying the two chalices over to the couch. "You're wearing too many clothes."