Master of Restless Shadows by Ginn Hale

Author:Ginn Hale [Hale, Ginn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, romance, mm
Publisher: Blind Eye Books
Published: 2019-07-24T15:08:58+00:00

This, he rebuked himself, was the problem with indulging his desire to be near Lord Quemanor. Thanks to the letters exchanged between Hierro and Genimo, Ariz had been aware of Fedeles Quemanor since the very beginning of his school days. Lord Quemanor had been the one other soul whom he knew bore as great a burden as himself, and he’d felt a bond with him that had only grown since entering the man’s service. He’d thought so much about Lord Quemanor that now his every little word or motion carried too much importance for Ariz. Particularly when he was already so tired and dispirited.

“I’d like to imagine that we would have been friends as well.” Lord Quemanor sounded wistful but also distant—as if he were again speaking of illusions passing over wind-tossed clouds. “I didn’t really live those years with the others, you know. I’ve read a little about them in Atreau’s memoirs, but . . . I never had the opportunity to grow close to my peers. By the time the curse was broken I’d become a duke and the friends who’d saved me were gone—exiled.”

“I’m sorry, truly—”

“No, please. I don’t want an apology or sympathy. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for me, but because . . .” He trailed off with an exasperated shake of his head.

Ariz said nothing, but simply sat beside him, giving him time to think and speak if he felt like it.

“I’m not good with words,” Lord Quemanor said at last.

“That we have in common,” Ariz replied and Lord Quemanor laughed.

“God knows how we’re going to muddle through a conversation, eh?” Lord Quemanor offered Ariz a wry smile. “If only we could, I don’t know, dance a conversation.”

Ariz imagined the two of them performing wild, rhythmic pantomimes back and forth, and again that ugly rasp of a laugh escaped him.

“Sir, you know I am an excellent dancer.” A grin undermined Lord Quemanor’s indignant tone. “If anyone could strut and pirouette a discourse, it is I.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Ariz replied. “Any failure to understand would be all on my part.”

“No, I’ve seen you dance when you were instructing Sparanzo. You’re a sight to behold.”

Ariz felt his face heat.

Lord Quemanor cocked his head to the side. “Speaking of instruction . . . do you think you might be able to take me through the steps of a quaressa?”

“The ballroom dance?” Ariz asked, though he knew the dance full well. It was a standard of Cadeleonian courtship, and most young men learned the steps in school, if not even before then. A slight flush colored Lord Quemanor’s face.

“Yes, you see, the way I was at the academy, I never learned.”

Ariz felt immediate sympathy. How unmanning must it have been to have to admit ignorance of something most boys mastered before they reached sixteen years of age? Doubtless, many other gaps existed in Lord Quemanor’s education and experiences. But this one Ariz could easily remedy for him. He rose to his feet.

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