Alexios

  Year 15 - Port Nyanzaru

  The Bubble and Squeak tavern is far too busy for my liking right now, but maybe that’s why I chose to be here rather than under Marquis’s watchful eyes. Something is different now, but I’m not sure what exactly it is. He hovers more, that’s for sure. I’ve caught him looking at me more often lately, but I just tell myself it’s nothing more than what I would assume is similar vigilance to what he gives the queen.

  I sit with my back pressed against the wall out of habit. The ale is bitter, but it seems I don’t really mind after the shit night I’ve just had.

  I’m halfway through my drink when I feel watchful eyes on me, but I should be used to it now. It seems my kind aren’t exactly known to visit. Not for good things, at least.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice calls out in my direction.

  I turn my head slowly to see who the voice belongs to. He’s human, but nothing remarkable. His brown hair has a little wave to it, likely from running his hands through it too much. A rather anxious habit, I guess.

  Our eye contact is brief and he turns away. It’s not like he isn’t allowed to look at me, but I don’t know how I feel about it anyway.

  “Can I help you with something?” I ask, flatter than intended.

  “Didn’t expect to see a drow topside unless there was trouble,” he says in amazement.

  His eyes drop to my throat when I lift my mug of ale and take a drink.

  “My name’s Byron,” he adds before gesturing to the seat beside me. “Is it alright if I sit?”

  I wonder for a moment what Marquis would say if I said yes. He would likely say this isn’t exactly harmless… but he’s not here right now.

  “Got for it, I guess.”

  Byron grins and takes the seat, our shoulders nearly brushing when he sits down.

  “What brings a man like you to some filthy place like this?” he asks.

  Usually when someone says “man like you”, they say it with hatred and fear. This sounds more like genuine interest.

  “I’m traveling with a companion,” I answer. Not necessarily a lie.

  He looks around the tavern, probably looking out for this “companion” of mine.

  “Lucky bastard they are,” he says teasingly. “Does your… companion mind you having a mug of ale with a stranger?”

  I scoff.

  “This probably wouldn’t rank very high on his scale of things to care about.”

  “His?” he says curiously and I realize it seems I’ve confirmed whatever prenotion he has about me. “Good, I’d hate to come between the two of you.”

  My eyes lower, watching the ale slosh against the rim. What exactly am I supposed to feel right now?

  Flattery? Curiosity?

  To this stranger’s luck, I don’t hear the queen’s command for blood. When I glance up, Byron’s still watching me just as he was before.

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  “Can you really blame me?” he answers, not taking his eyes off me for even a single second.

  It would be wise of me to shut this down and return home like Marquis would want me to do, but instead… I take in another mouthful of my ale and turn towards Byron.

  “I’m Alexios,” I say suddenly. Marquis probably would have wanted me to give a fake name.

  Byron smirks and bites his lower lip at the sound of my name.

  “Does it mean something?”

  “Probably,” I say.

  Truthfully, I don’t know. That part of me will always belong to the Matrons of House Baenre while other parts now belong to a queen who would rip this stranger next to me apart just to watch him bleed out.

  He leans closer, shoulders slumping in full comfort.

  “Quite tall for a drow, aren’t you?” he purrs. “I’m assuming your lovers have to climb you like a tree to get what they want.”

  “Quite the flirt, aren’t you?” I say in a mocking tone, a bit taken aback by his boldness if I’m being honest.

  “Am I now?”

  I shake my head, but I can’t help smiling now.

  “Just appreciating the sight of a beautiful man who could probably kill me with a single finger.”

  “More like without a single tough,” I say mindlessly.

  What in the nine hells?

  Why didn’t I stop myself from saying that?!

  Byron grins wickedly now.

  “Oh, you are enchanting.”

  Fifteen years of Marquis watching over me and as soon as I get a taste of real freedom, here I am admitting far too much to a stranger like it doesn’t matter. Byron nudges my arm to pull all my attention back to him.

  “Do I make you nervous?” he asks quietly.

  “This is unexpected,” I admit instead. “I haven’t… it’s just been a long time.”

  Frankly, I’ve never had someone approach me in a tavern in the fifteen years I’ve been above ground. Not too certain whether that’s because I’m usually with Marquis or because people tend to keep a bit of distance between them and a drow.

  My eyes drop to his hand resting on the table. There’s an old scar running across his knuckle. I can feel the queen bleeding into my mind, telling me how easily it would be to part his skin beneath a blade. I stop the thought before it can come any further.

  Byron’s head tilts to the side as he continues watching me closely.

  “Is that an invitation… or a warning?” he asks.

  Against my better judgment and caution, I choose to tease back.

  “That depends on whether you’re brave or reckless.”

  Byron laughs heartedly, clearly pleased.

  “Probably both with you.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  He gestures for the server for another mug of ale, then he turns to me for a moment.

  “Another for my friend here as well,” he calls out. “If he’ll accept it, of course.”

  I should refuse, but something in me pulls me closer to him and… this.

  My, my. He seems awfully taken with you, Alexios. Let us see where it leads, hmm?

  “You don’t even really know me,” I say, reaching out for the mug as soon as it’s placed in front of me.

  One of Byron’s hands reaches up to touch the ends of my hair.

  “I don’t” he agrees. “But tonight, I think I’d like to pretend if you’ll allow it.”

  The queen has made it clear she doesn’t want me to pull away… so I don’t.

  --

  Before I realize it, I’m being backed into a narrow alleyway behind the tavern. Byron’s lips find mine as my back presses against the stone wall. I gasp loudly, my hands running through his hair as he kisses me over and over. It feels like he’s been waiting to do this since he first saw me. I kiss him back, scraping my teeth against his lower lip every so often.

  Oh, Alexios. I have never felt you like this before.

  It seems you have been holding out on me.

  “Gods,” I breathe out as one of Byron’s hands drifts lower down my body. “You are brave and reckless.”

  He grins and leans back in to nip gently at my neck. I choose to let myself feel wanted for the night, thoughts completely scattered now.

  “Come home with me,” I say before I can overthink it.

  Byron’s eyes widen.

  “Would your… companion mind?”

  I shake my head, but I don’t know or care right now. I haven’t touched someone like this in fifteen years.

  “Then… yes,” he breathes out as I lean down to lay a kiss on his cheek.

  Our mouths somehow keep finding each other as we try to walk back to Marquis’s home. Laughter turns into lingering kisses as our hands teasingly explore through layers of clothing.

  When the front door closes behind us, Byron’s lips are pressed against mine again. His cloak hits the floor, then mine as our fingers fumble against laces and buttons. I try to keep an ear out for either Marquis or Phaedra, but there’s nothing except the sounds of our heavy breathing against each other’s mouths.

  Byron presses me against the door and rests his head against my shoulder as we catch our breath for a few minutes.

  “Do I still make you nervous, Alexios?”

  I shake my head and that’s all it takes for his hands to slide down. Then he’s lowering himself in front of me, never breaking eye contact with me as he sinks down onto his knees. One of my hands braces against the wall while the other runs through his hair.

  He watches you like you are something divine. Let him worship you tonight, do you understand?

  I try my best to give the queen something that could count as a response, but my attention is pulled right back to this bold stranger who rests on his knees in front of me.

  “Seems your friend isn’t home,” he says. “And if he is… I hope he likes to watch.”

  “Fucking hells,” I gasp.

  I let my eyes fall shut, praying to the gods that if Marquis and Phaedra are home, they stay hidden.

  --

  My trance is cut short tonight. For a second or two, I forget how I ended up in my bedroom or why there’s a warm body pressed against me, bare skin to bare skin. Byron’s arm rest lazily over my waist as the bedsheets tangle around us.

  For reasons I can’t explain… I feel stronger. My senses feel like a fire that’s been stoked alive again.

  I slip out from under his arm carefully. Thankfully, he keeps sleeping. I pull on the old robe Marquis gave me a year or so ago as I take a few deep breaths in.

  I wanted this, I remind myself. The queen said it was more than okay. We both chose this.

  But as I turn to look out the window, I see Nykky’s urn resting there. My stomach knots immediately, heart racing erratically as panic begins to burst through me. The tears well up, blurring my vision almost instantly.

  What the fuck have I done?!

  “I’m sorry,” I cry out quietly. “I’m so sorry. Gods…”

  I can still feel the warmth of Byron and the sound of laughter from just hours ago. What if this was too soon? What if this is still cheating, even after death? What if I attempted to move on while a part of me still remains buried in that urn with Nykky?

  My legs give out and I sink down to the floor beside the wall, unable to properly take in a single breath. I press a hand to my mouth to suppress my sobs, but it comes out anyway.

  “I didn’t forget about you,” I whisper to the urn and to the empty space where I desperately wish for Nykky to be. “I didn’t… I swear I didn’t.”

  My chest feels like it’s been torn open and the grief feels almost as fresh as the night I lost him. It doesn’t care how much time has passed. My weeping turns almost violent, my lungs feeling almost like they’ve forgotten what they’re supposed to do. Trembling the entire time, I reach up to pull the urn into my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” I gasp out through my devastation. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. Please forgive me…”

  I’m rocking back and forth now, keeping my forehead pressed to the urn as tears fall down my cheeks.

  “Alexios?” Byron suddenly speaks, confused in his tired state. “Hey… what’s wrong? What happened?”

  He sits up, but I can barely register the sound of his feet hitting the floor. Then he sees how desperately I’m clinging to the urn in my hands. He takes a slow step forward.

  “Don’t,” I spit out through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare come any closer.”

  Byron freezes instantly.

  “Okay, I promise I won’t. Are you hurt…?”

  My arms tighten around Nykky as I fail miserably to take a full breath in.

  “Please,” I whisper. “Please… just get out.”

  I see him pause, clearly torn between wanting to respect what I’ve asked and wanting to help me through this.

  “Do you want me to fetch your friend? Maybe he can…”

  “GET OUT!” I scream, voice almost shattering. “Get the fuck out! Don’t even look at me… just get out!”

  He stumbles back like I’ve hit him and for a second, it looks like he might try again… but then he shakily nods, grabbing a towel from the chair to wrap around his lower half as he backs toward the door.

  When the door opens, Marquis is already stepping through as if he was already coming in to check on me. Clearly startled, Byron bows his head, apologizing profusely as he slips past him. Marquis says nothing, but even through my tears, I swear I see a glimpse of sharpness in his eyes as he watches Byron leave.

  His attention turns back to me and whatever I think I saw is gone. My body is shaking so hard that my teeth are chattering now.

  “I didn’t replace you,” I sob. “I swear I didn’t. I’m still yours, I’m still yours, I’m still yours…”

  “Alexios,” Marquis calls out softly. “Talk to me. Focus on me, do you understand?”

  “Get out!” I scream at him. “Just leave me alone.”

  But he doesn’t. He lowers himself to one knee, keeping distance like he’s trying to calm a feral beast. His blue eyes shine with concern.

  “It is alright now,” he attempts again. “I am here. Phaedra is just down the hall if you require her instead.”

  His words just make me sob even harder.

  “I…” I try to speak, but the words burn my throat. I try again anyway. “I slept with the man who just left. It feels like I fucking cheated, Marquis!”

  Marquis moves closer but still makes an effort to keep some distance as if he assumes I’ll bite him.

  “It feels like I tried to replace Nykky,” I continue as I weep. “Like I moved on too soon and now I can’t take it back. I didn’t mean for him to think I forgot about him.”

  “Seeking pleasure is not betrayal, Alexios.”

  I scoff through fresh tears.

  “Then why does it feel like it is?”

  “Because your grief is telling you that suffering is the price you must pay for every inch of your life. Will you look at me for a moment, Alexios?”

  I do, but it’s hard to keep my focus.

  “You did not replace Nykolai,” Marquis continues. “You did not erase his memory or the passion you shared between the both of you. You are allowed to feel pleasure, even while loving someone who is gone.”

  My body stops shaking as violently now, but I keep the urn pressed just as tightly to my chest.

  “I… I didn’t mean to scream at you… or him.”

  “That is alright,” Marquis replies. “You did nothing unforgivable.”

  He straightens one of the chairs that I didn’t even realize I overturned at some point before draping a thick blanket over my shoulders.

  “Will you allow me to put your beloved back on the table?” he asks.

  I nod slowly, carefully handing the urn to him like it’s a newborn child. He places it back on the table, wiping off a few stray tears that have fallen onto the surface.

  Marquis leaves quietly after that, but I stay curled up on the floor.

  Alexios.

  I gasp at her presence. She has never talked to me this much outside of one of her contracts.

  “You’re… you’re talking to me again?”

  Of course, I am. You were… radiant.

  “Don’t,” I mutter. “Please…”

  You looked beautiful.

  Alive. Desired.

  I felt your true strength in that moment. Did you?

  “I was panicking,” I say.

  Not that, Alexios. I mean before. When you invited him and let yourself be wanted by someone.

  Tell me, did you feel in control?

  “I…” My voice breaks.

  You were not owned or commanded. You chose pleasure and the pace.

  That is power. You were never permitted that under House Baenre unless I am mistaken?

  My hands come up to wipe a few stray tears from my cheeks.

  You are learning what it means to exist as yourself, not what the Matrons wanted. It frightens you because it was never allowed before.

  I drop my head to my knees, desperate to finally catch my breath.

  “But I loved him,” I remind her. “I still do.”

  You are becoming something you do not understand yet. Do you believe your lover would want you to suffer?

  You are not to be kept preserved in pain.

  My thoughts drift to the memories of Nykky’s smile and the way he always wanted more for me than the Matrons ever did.

  “I didn’t forget him,” I desperately tell her. “I would never.”

  Moving forward is not abandonment, Alexios. Remember that. You will get stronger.

  I can’t tell if the queen’s words are actually soothing me or if she is even being sincere. All I know is that the memory of Nykky’s smile will stay with me through the rest of the night.