Page 68 of Noble Charms

“Fuck them.” Noble said. He said it with all the power within his lungs. “Fuck them, Aria.”

Aria hiccuped, clinging to Noble's back. It was then that Noble realized he'd actually been without a shirt—in bed in naught but the pants he wore to sleep. He hadn't thought he'd see anyone. But Aria, out of his mind from a humiliation he didn't need to feel, hadn't noticed. He simply held on, silent and shaking, as Noble counted the tears that fell upon his bare skin.

Noble stroked a hand down Aria's back, cupped the back of his head, and let him cry. “You needn't be embarrassed by any of this,” he said. “Ellor's a buffoon. The city knows his proclivities. None will witness his marriage and think that it's love.” Because Ellor was incapable of that.

“It's not just that,” Aria said, voice gone from all the strain. He spoke just above a whisper as he sat back into Noble's arms. His face was flushed, eyes and lips swollen. Noble wiped his face with a hand. Aria said, “I had been asking him for years if he'd marry me. And he always said no. But he promised it wasn't me. He didn't like marriage. He didn't need it. Didn't think it was necessary for modern men.”

Incapable of love, Noble thought again.

“But it was a lie, wasn't it? We've been parted for two months, and he's moved on to someone he wants to wed. It was me. I was the problem. He didn't want to marry me.”

“You don't need to cry for this prick, Aria. Right now, if he showed up here, and declared his love, and gave you a ring—you'd say no, wouldn't you?”

Aria nodded without hesitation.

“Because you know now that he's a prick. No, don't cry for him. Cry for his poor, stupid wife. Lady Quint has to be tied to this prick forevermore. We should throw a vigil on the day of their nuptials, I think.”

Aria's big eyes blinked, taken aback, and then, by the grace of Elys—he laughed. He continued to laugh as he used the sleeve of his long tunic robe to wipe his face clear of all the tears and snot.

Noble loved him so much it hurt.

“Thank you,” Aria said, finally, having settled down, his voice still nearly gone. He tried clearing his throat. “I may be coming down with something,” he whispered. “Lost my voice.”

“I can read your lips,” Noble said.

“You can read lips?” Aria mouthed.

Noble chuckled. “Just yours.”

Aria huffed another quiet laugh and looked down at his lap. And noticed, for the first time, that he was seated upon Noble's lap. He blinked, surprised, and looked up at Noble's naked body. “Oh!” he mouthed.

Noble laughed this time. “You didn't even notice.”

Aria swallowed as he took in the shapes and shadows of Noble's bare torso. “You're—” he hesitated, still speaking silently. “You're hairy.” Yes, Noble was muscular by virtue of his god ancestor, and covered in coarse black hair by virtue of being a human man. Aria's surprise made sense. Elys elves like him had little body hair to speak of—some were completely hairless from the ears down. Noble had not let himself wonder if Aria was one of those.

But this wasn't the first time Aria had seen a half-naked, hairy man. How did Ellor look without a shirt? Better? More pleasing to Aria's desires? The ghost of insecurity crawled into the periphery of Noble's mind as Aria said nothing else. Perhaps he smelled—he'd showered that morning, and though he hadn't left the house, Noble knew he could go nose-blind to himself.

He stood. Aria scrambled off his lap, looking down at the floors instead of anywhere that might allow him to gaze at Noble again.

Noble could be the one to cry next. He released an exhale and said, “We'll find you some new gigs soon. And that way the city will know you’re a bard and not my adame. You needn't worry about that. Go rest. Tomorrow's a new day.”

Aria hugged one arm to himself and mouthed, “Wait.”

Noble did.

Aria said, silently, “Can we read The Bard Bride?”

Noble’s warm affection swelled inside his chest. “Of course. Come in.”

Noble walked Aria to his bed and fetched him a blanket from the end to settle with. Noble circled the bed, climbed up, and grabbed the book from his nightstand. He donned his reading glasses—forever frustrated that he needed such things—and opened the novel to the bookmark tucked within the pages. They were nearly done with it—only two chapters to go.

Aria tucked himself against Noble’s side as he read. Eleanor had met with her dashing new prince beau outside the city, at an inn, but there was only one bed available for the night. They were going to share it.

Noble read, before it really registered, “Warmth pooled between her legs as the scent of The Prince wrapped around her, sensual and warm. She was ashamed at the erotic pulse, but The Prince whispered an apology of his own, and that’s when she felt it. Felt him. His prick was hard, resting against her thigh. Wordlessly, she lifted her dress, and guided his hand⁠—”

Noble realized then what he was reading. The book hadn’t had sex before now, and it seemed sudden, and unexpected, and while Noble was no prude, he was all too aware of his near-nudity, and the weight of Aria against his chest.

He ground his teeth.