Page 23 of Noble Charms

“You’re a year older than I am,” Noble pointed out, not for the first time.

Morgan wrapped an arm around Noble’s shoulders and said, “Your watch is inaccurate. I’ve set it behind for months now.”

“What? No. I would have noticed.” Noble narrowed his eyes and glared into Morgan’s solidly gray stare, at the slightly darker gray pupils flashing like a cat's. “You’re just joking with me.”

Morgan gave his shoulders a squeeze and then backed away. “I’m not. Sorry, Noble.” He gestured, with an unnecessary flourish, to the ceiling-mounted clock above the tracks. Five past ten. “I win.”

Noble was late. Fortunately, the train was as well. He huffed. “I still don’t believe you. This is far too elaborate a prank for you to pull.”

He looked over the platform at the other passengers, to find one that also wore a watch. Not just any watch—he needed a reliable orc-made, like his own. Noble's eyes moved from person to person, until he found a man wearing a dark brown seersucker suit. His watch, also gold, winked as he combed his hands through the long blond hair of his apparent lover. They were kissing—touching all over, in fact, as they said farewell. The woman's pale hands held onto the shoulders of the suit, and she stood on the tiptoes of her soft-looking brown leather boots to reach. She was slight, pale, and her elven ear was revealed as the man trailed kisses along her jaw.

Some odd sense of familiarity made Noble peer closer. The man pulled back enough to flash a smile at the girl, and Noble snapped his fingers. “Ellor Abante! I thought I recognized you.”

Ellor jolted back, honey brown eyes widening in alarm, but when his harried gaze met Noble's, he relaxed. And laughed. “Why, if it isn't Yves St. Clair!” Smiling, he walked to Noble, and held out his hand for them to clasp together in familiarity. “Well met, old friend.”

“How are you, old dog? I didn't realize you'd finally found an attachment.” Noble looked over Ellor's shoulder to his girl, and then froze. It was no girl. It was, in fact, a man. A beautiful one, yes, now that Noble looked him over more closely. The elven stranger's crystalline blue eyes stared in visible apprehension, and Noble hoped he hadn't stumbled into some sort of affair.

But Ellor stepped back and reached for his lover's hand, pulling him forward. “Yes, yes. This is Aria Charms. He’s my adame.”

Aria Charms? “Of Highfell?” Noble added, without really meaning to, because his memory finally served him well. Dear Elys—it was him. The strait-laced Argosin bard from that disastrous trek across the kingdom.

Aria's lips thinned as he lowered his head in greeting. Ellor said, “You know one another?”

“Yes,” said Noble. “Well, no. We met briefly years ago. How do you do, Aria?”

“Lord Yves. It's nice to see you again,” said Aria.

Noble didn't remember Aria being quite this…remarkable. His hair looked made of white-gold silk, cascading over a many-patterned patchwork wool coat that fit his trim waist with a tailoring most bards couldn't afford. Then again, he clearly wasn’t a bard, but an adame. And to someone well-connected, too. The Abantes were quite well-respected in elite circles. “Your hair is different. Longer. I didn't recognize you at first.”

Aria tucked a strand behind his ear and said, primly, “Yours is quite different, too.”

Noble reached up to touch the top of his head and laughed. “I've trimmed it, yes.” It wasn't incredibly short—brushing the top of his shoulders these days, as was fashionable. He wore it with slightly less curl as Virginia's hair products helped tame some of the texture.

“Are you off to Sallansa, then?” asked Ellor.

Noble blinked at him. He'd temporarily forgotten he wasn't speaking to Aria alone. “Yes. For the long weekend. With my associate, Morgan.” He looked over his shoulder to find Morgan watching the scene with arms crossed. He offered a stiff, unpleasant, wave.

“We wish you safe travels, then,” said Ellor.

A distant train horn filled the platform. Morgan stepped silently to Noble's side, holding his bag in one hand. Noble offered a parting grin to Ellor, then to Aria, and said, “Thank you. Good to see you both.”

He didn't allow himself to look back as he approached the edge of the platform.

ARIA

Aria watched Noble board the train, and tried to identify the odd knot within his chest. Noble hadn't recognized him. Not until he heard the name. He supposed he couldn't be offended. They weren't friends.

Him, him, him, whispered Aria’s soul. Elys be, he’d forgotten how that voice taunted him in his youth. And it ushered him forward, now, toward the train car. Go, go, go.

“How do you two know each other?” Aria asked Ellor, having already halfway guessed the answer. Ellor was a duke, and Noble would one day be an earl. They came from the same world.

“We grew up at neighboring estates outside of Sallansa.”

“You knew each other as children?”

“We did. He's about five years younger than me. A bit too young to be close friends. Also…” Ellor started, and then stopped himself with a tsk. His handsome brow furrowed.

Aria looked Ellor over before placing a comforting hand upon his arm. “What is it?”