The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Telling the Truth, pt. 3

"Where's Chessie?" Able looked from the empty chairs in front of the fire to the little alcove where the kitchen housed dirty dishes.

"Gone." Lark directed his attention to the wall by the door where Able's coat and hat hung beside only Lark's. "You guys came straight here after Lionstone?" When Able nodded, Lark did too and said, "So, she's figured you're more likely than she is to get anything useful out of me and gone on to advise Hawking."

Even though she still didn't know what Driver was up to? And...how much had she overheard before she left? Good thing he didn't have to deal with her right now.

Lark pulled a throw with a burn-hole in it from the back of a chair and draped it over Able's shoulders. "Go sit. Stew?"

"Thanks." Able pulled the comforting weight and warmth closer while he considered the chairs. Too much distance between them. He situated himself on the floor near the fire.

Lark seemed amused by this choice but did not comment on it when he brought the warm bowl and cool glass over. Able guzzled the water down and felt immediately more alert. Alert enough to catch the way Lark smiled affectionately as he added another log to the fire. But it seemed the wet sleeve bothered Lark after all, as he then wandered to the corner while stripping the shirt off.

Able averted his gaze and almost laughed at himself for it. He set his spoon down and settled in to watch the firelight playing over Lark's back. The shadows danced in and out of the curves of his muscles as he rummaged through the trunk. Able helplessly chewed his lip when Lark straightened to his princely posture and his hair spilled back over his shoulder again. It almost wasn't fair that one human could look that good.

Lark noticed Able's gaze after he'd shaken out his selected replacement. A slow grin spread, teeth glistening in the light. "Should I not?"

Able shrugged. "It's cold." And he was sitting on a blanket. That they could share.

Lark chortled at that but apparently did not read Able's mind, for he slipped the shirt on. But he still strutted back over and sidled beside Able on the floor. He was still grinning when lightly elbowed him. "I'd ask how it is, but you're ageusic."

Able laughed helplessly. "It tastes really good, thank you. I don't recognize some of these vegetables—foraged?"

"Yeah, save the stores while I can." Lark stretched his arms over his head then settled back comfortably.

Able eyes lingered at Lark's waistline after the flash of skin there had vanished. "You don't still need to go for a run?"

"Nah, you managed to take my mind off my problems for a while." Lark might have meant his grimace for comedic effect but it slipped into the real thing. "...though it sounds like you're about to fix that." He was right that Able had more than sex on his mind. Chessie's absence was hurting more than helping, in that regard.

"I...I'm just worried." Able ate intentionally, hoping it would help keep his composure under control. When Lark didn't respond, he swallowed and added, "about Driver, I mean."

"Worried she's going to come after you?" Lark stared at the fire.

"Aren't you? You were worried before, has something changed?" When Lark again failed to respond, Able tried another approach. "Surely she's not done with you just because Adeptsby's been scuttled? What does she intend you for, leverage?"

"King, if she's to be believed about anything." Lark rolled his eyes.

"Wait—king? As in...make you king of Larbantry?"

"So she says," Lark was barely audible but sounded listless. "This is all to depose my father, put me on the throne for the interim while she dissolves the peerage."