“The best. I can see you point,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “But I do wish I could have been in on it! As it stands now, Mama is willing to let me look elsewhere but Papa is digging in his heels. She loves the old fool so much that she won’t let the idea go entirely yet, just for his sake.”

Yirel settled back into the crook of his arm, smiling and lightly kicking his foot back and forth. Rhin was glad for the change of subject, and the lack of challenge to the declaration. “Well you can be in on it now Gala,” he said.

“You can count on it, Rhindov. This is the best thing to happen since… oh… How long has it been since the Champions Scandal?”

“Seven years I think,” Romin said, “And it might be wonderful to you Galaden, but my parents are beside themselves trying to figure out a way to change your mind, and my sibs are particularly hell bent on some plan to catch your eye.” He looked over to Rhin, the look on his face one of misery. “Do you know how many failed ‘potions’ I’ve had to smell over the course of this last month?” A bit of a grin did peek through after a second. “I should be thankful I only have to smell them, however. The shrieks from the testing are enough to scare a banshee.” He snickered.

“Oh what a joy to be the city's most wanted stud,” Rhin replied. “Are they really trying prohibited brews..?”

“I will neither confirm nore deny. All I know is that they are paying for every scrap of so-called secret or lost knowledge to find a match.”

He frowned. “I’ll keep my eyes, and nose, open for anything out of the ordinary then. Thanks for the warning.”

“Well I can’t just let them poison your mind can I? You’re a good enough fellow but I do not want you as my brother,” Romin said with a shudder.

“As if I’d call a mongrel like you kin,” he retorted. There was a tense moment, then they both chuckled. They’d thrown their punches at each other shortly after meeting the first time; Rhin from arrogance and Romin from a need to prove himself. It had taken a good while after that for them to come to more agreeable terms, and one drunken night against pickpockets to solidify a friendship. He sighed and looked down at Yirel, tightened his arm around him and rested his forehead against the side of his head for a moment. He must play his part as well after all. And Quiace, warm soft and sweet in his arms, complied by relaxing into him. For a moment he let himself enjoy the embrace, the comfort seeping into his bones.

The clink of Galaden setting her glass down on the stone called him out of his revere. Pulling away he cleared his throat. “I understand how hard this is to match with what you know of me. And you’re not wrong. Here, among friends,” he paused and looked around, catching everyone’s eyes in turn. “I think both of us can admit it is not love that draws us together. Not yet, and perhaps not ever. But if we are to know for certain, then we have to act in drastic measures.”

Here, Yirel looked back at him and nodded, a nervous laugh spilling from Darling’s lips as Rhin took control. “Yes. If you say you trust that truth here, so will I.” He bit his lip and looked back at them all. “All this to say that… We are dancing. And the dance is enjoyable so far. Now comes the time to see if we can truly match steps without a perfect melody to follow.”

“I -for one- commend you both on such bold action. There are so few certainties in life and taking the effort to understand yourself before making a decision is often the best course,” Galaden said.

“Here-here!” Jeshua lifted his drink in a toast only he partook in, and drained the glass before passing it to Silvas to refill it. “I’m still not happy with you, Rhin, but I understand you too. Thank you dear,” he murmured as a full glass was passed back to him.

“I’ll take your grace, Jeshua. And I’m counting on all of you to help us. The powers that be are gathering to force my hand I think; I cannot stand against them all and win. We must buy time and space to breathe.” Rhindov looked around their group, and saw his friends nodding back at him. He’d lied to them before, but small things. Jeshua most of all had always been included in his plans. This was larger than a prank or a party, or even a clandestine affair, and for a moment the weight of it unsettled him. He pushed the feeling away and smiled instead as he stood. Yirel squeaked as he slid to his feet. “Enough of all that, though. I want this to be a grand night.”

“And a grand night it shall be!” Jeshua sprung to his feet and swept over. “My dear man, you’ve had the woman of the evening to yourself all night. Give someone else a chance to dance and put yourself to use getting the music, hmm?” Yirel was whisked away, his shocked and delighted laughter inviting the rest to join in.

“Just as long as I have my intended back at the end; You’re just as much of a scoundrel now as ever, husband or not,” Rhin replied. He did flick his fingers, summoning another of the arcane clockworks bearing a music box that amplified the music from the ballroom.

“Don’t listen to him Darling. Rhin has always been jealous of my devastating good looks and superior charm. I’m as devoted as a Saint.”

Silvas came to stand next to him, and they stood in silence as the rest joined in on the miniature garden dance. They laughed and twirled, switching partners almost at random and being merry. Yirel glowed under the broken rainbow of light; head thrown back with a laugh as Jeshua spun him, before being passed to Gala and them each giggling as they clasped hands and attempted the footwork of a country jig. More breathless laughs as Darling moved to Kelnry and Wesmod and the group joined hands to loop in on themselves. Bright eyes, flushed cheeks and hair growing more wild with the moment… Yirel was beautiful.

“Do you know you’re making that look?”

Rhin cleared his throat and glared at Slivas.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Obviously.” Silvas turned his body towards him, and spoke more softly. “There’s something you’re not telling us, and it’s not that you’re in love or perhaps in love,” he accused. “You’ve got that same look you had on Tricksters Day back at school-”

“It’s nothing like that-”

“-and when we all worked to get Wes and Kel’s arcanum into the Fallish envoy’s bedroom so we could listen in-”

“Now that is completely different,”

“-or how about when you arranged the perfect scene to break the engagement between Lady Nilege and Lord Umbree because you were insulted-”

“Silvas…”

“I could go on but I think I’ve proven my point.” He tilted his head, and gave Rhindov a level gaze. “There is more going on here than you’ve let on. You don’t have to tell me what, as long as you warn me if things look to go wrong. I just got Jeshua, I won’t lose him for anything, not even you Rhin.”

“...You won’t,” Rhindov answered solemnly.

“I know,” Silvas said, giving him a hard glare before leaving him to join his husband and steal him for a dance. Rhin chewed the side of his tongue. He couldn’t blame Silvas for being protective, he’d worked hard to secure a future for himself and Jeshua- still was. He just wished he wasn’t so damned perceptive. Not that it changed anything really. He’d just have to be sure not to let Silvas see past the ruse any further than he already had.

The rest of the shared evening went as smoothly as he could have hoped. Darling was peppered with questions as could be expected, and Yirel handled them all smoothly. Not that he answered every one, there were still coy side steps and winks. But more was learned about Darling than the public ever knew before: She was from an unspecified mining town on the edge of the wastes; Though her cousin was the one who tinkered with constructs she was curious about them too (Kel and Wes were instantly at Yirel’s side, all of them chattering excitedly); Lilies were her favorite flower.

The twins were the first to take their leave. “Fare thee well, Rhindov. Darling. As much as I enjoy your company, I did promise to drop into the cafe before it grew too late,” Kelnry said. 

Wesmod spoke as well. “I want to get back to my workshop while these ideas are fresh as well, I’ll walk you partway,” looking over to Rhin and Darling he smiled. “It was wonderful to meet you at last, and under such delightful circumstances! Rhin you’ll have to arrange a luncheon so we don’t have to avoid the rest of your guests.” Chuckling he nodded to them both before leaving.

Jeshua noticed and decided to leave as well; his grin as he pulled Silvas along and waved goodbye could only be called devious. Rhin did have a moment wondering if it was aimed at him, or for Jeshua’s own plans. It was probably both. Gala came to embrace them before departing and dragging Romin along with her. “I’ll send to you for tea Darling and we will have a time! Oo! Well I am sure you two have more than enough to talk about, alone,” she giggled, and Yirel blushed. “Toodles! Come along Romin, Lady Hussiam should be setting up her card game and I’ve got scores to settle with the both of you.” She dragged Romin off as he stuttered out a hasty goodbye, and that left him and Yirel alone in his private niche.

Once he could no longer hear Gala or Romin, Rhin let out a breath.  “I never would have counted them as your confidants, Lord Cavish,” Yirel said softly, looking out towards the garden path. His hair had come loose from its pins during the dancing, and ribbons of curled black rained down the back of Yirel’s neck and around his ears. The mage lights had followed their makers, so now only his offered any light to the dark space. And the green deepened the color of the hanging ivy, the dress, bathed everything in a verdant hue that painted Yirel as more of a forest spirit than the statue he’d animated hours before.

Lifting a hand he brushed a few locks of hair behind Yirel’s ear, stepping closer. Yirel shuddered and snapped his attention back to him, taking a half step away. “I’m not the only one full of surprises,” he said. Cupping the back of Yirel’s neck, threading fingers through black curls and letting his thumb drift over the thundering vein on the side of his neck, he bent closer. He could hear the quaiver in his lordling’s breath though he tried to hide it. “Turn around.”

Quaice licked his lips, slowly turning to face the garden table, his dark eyes watching Rhin over his shoulder. Rhin’s fingers drifted over his neck, and Quaice whimpered. The lust that had been rising in him all night peaked for a hot second; with a growl he bent Yirel down with a hand between his shoulders. Yirel’s yelp echoed, but it didn’t matter. They were far from the only ones enjoying the garden at this point. Rhin stepped up and pushed Yire’s feet apart with his own as he gripped his hips and ground against him.

Yirel’s hands splayed out to either side of him on the table, his face pressed as much as he could into his shoulder as he gasped and whined, eyes squeezed shut once more. Rhindov groaned, getting hard as Yirel’s hips pressed back without him having to guide the motion. “Fuck,” he breathed, bending over Quaice. They were both shaking as he dragged his hands up Yirel’s sides, tracing his lithe form. “You are much too ravishing for your own good Darling.” The leftover wine bottles and glasses wobbled and threatened to tip over. Groaning under his breath, Rhin grinned and waved a hand to summon an automaton. “Stay right where you are,” he purred as he took a step back.

The blank faced porcelain once again entered the garden through the library door. Though instead of gathering the discarded wine bottles it took Yirel’s wrists’ in its hands and held them to the table. “S..Sir?” The question hung in the air as Quaice trembled and tried to crane his neck to watch him.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead lifting the back of the dress and draping it over Yirel’s hips. His lordling squirmed, his embarrassed noises filtering through the music that was still playing somewhere. “Relax, Quaice.” He placed a hand on the smooth curve of an asscheek, and Yirel shivered as he rubbed and squeezed. He’d been waiting all night to do this. The balcony had been a wonderful tease, but now there were no more obligations in the way of his enjoyment. He stepped back in between Qauice’s legs, reaching around and under the skirts to grope his cock once more. And his lordling was gloriously hard as well in his lace. Yirel gasped and whined under him, rolling his hips with each breath. Rhin smirked as he pulled open the front of his trousers and pulled his own dick free.

Pressing into the cleft of Yirel’s ass, Rhindov rocked against him with a satisfied groan. It had to be the scandal of it all. That was the only reason he burned so hot for Darling… hotter for knowing the truth and having Yirel beholden to him to keep it hidden. Reaching with his other hand, Rhin began the laborious process of undoing the row of buttons down the back of the dress. Yirel made another of his sweet sounds, and tried to hide his face even as his body moved with needy insistence. “Ngh, don’t hide from it Darling. We both know you like being my whore.”

The shudder that rocked Quaice had him pausing and taking a deep breath. The way his golden flower trembled and let himself be plucked, how Rhin felt himself obsessed with the perverse nature of it all… None of that mattered but pushing his cock against Yirel’s ass and getting the dress loose enough to get at his chest. He would control himself enough this time to let Darling leave with intact clothing, but… “Gods and Saints damn these fucking buttons!”

Yirel’s snicker was soft, but he heard it nonetheless.

“Should I rip this one too?” That got Quaice to bite his lip and look over his shoulder again. Rhin cursed to himself as he got harder.

“Mm..please don’t, Sir.” His tone was perfectly contrite, but his eyes… Licking his lips, Rhin leaned down as he ground his hips forward, abandoning the buttons to pull Yirel’s head up by the hair so he could kiss him. It was hard, and rough, and Yirel was squirming and whining as he squeezed his prick. When he broke the kiss and pulled away they were both panting. Yirel’s eyes were hazy and he moaned as Rhin let him put his head back down.

In relatively short order he had enough of the buttons loosened. Letting go of his lordling’s cock he pushed both hands into the back of the dress, around to the front of him, and found his nipples. Yirel hissed and bit his lip, squirming and making the most wonderful noises as Rhin pulled and pinched. It was intoxicating the way Yirel bucked and moaned, his vain attempts to break free from the grip of the construct. Rhin rode the writhing form and shamelessly took pleasure at the struggle. He knew Yirel could feel him, thick and heavy rubbing at his backside. And he knew without a doubt Yirel wanted him; the way he purposefully pushed back against him, rising on his toes told him everything.