Page 76 of Noble Charms

Aria stood up, grateful for the topic change. “I’ll fetch my lute. I need this job to go well—it may well be my last chance to strike out as an independent bard. I’ve got to move out of Noble’s after Winterend, and if I fail to impress anyone at this party…” Aria looked off. “It’s either Hampenstead’s Nightveil, or all the way back home.”

“Neither one of those will happen on my watch. Let us practice.”

11

A NEW END

ARIA

The night before Hampenstead left for the Agolde Estate, on Winterend’s Eve, Aria stepped into his hotel room ready to take the next step. He’d whispered to himself all day, you can do this, this is the best choice, this is right. All while his soul cried, no!

He liked Hampenstead. He was smart. He was kind. He wanted Aria the way Aria wanted him.

Hampenstead had his hotel suite prepared with candles, roses, white wine, and a whole roasted chicken that smelled like garlic. Not to mention the silk pillows and music player twinkling away in the corner to set the mood. It was terribly romantic.

Aria circled the room, smiling at the display. “This is lovely, Eric.” He wasn’t sure he’d ever been presented with a dinner like this before. The most Ellor had ever done was bring him a flower from a street vendor.

And Noble⁠—

Well, he never dated Noble, but his memory fed him visions of him sharing his coat, of him helping Aria to remove his boots, of them curled together beneath a blanket reading The Bard Bride. Was that romantic?

Aria pushed Noble out of his mind.

“I t-tried,” said Hampenstead, chuckling. He closed the door, locked it, and stood with his arms tightly fastened to his sides.

Aria approached, and stood on his tiptoes to kiss his mouth in greeting. “It smells good, the meal.” He looked over at the chicken seated on a bed of vegetables. He actually hadn’t eaten meat once since moving in with Noble. Noble, too, went temporarily vegetarian in Aria’s presence. Aria didn’t remark on his usual diet, and instead took a seat at the small dining set by the window on the tenth floor, looking over downtown New Hieroph, with its twinkling lights and bustling carriages.

Hampenstead sat across from him and said, “Aria.”

“Yes?”

“I wish to have you.”

Aria flushed. “Goodness.”

“I’m s-sorry. I had to say it. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you and…” He trailed off, eyes dropping to the floor. “Since I’ll be gone two nights, I thought perhaps tonight we could make love.”

Aria waited for a beat before standing, approaching, and kneeling at Hampenstead’s feet. He smiled at Hampenstead’s startled inhale of air and said, “How do you want me?”

“Any way,” Hampenstead whispered. “How do you like to be had?”

It’d been some time since he was on his knees like this. Wordlessly, he reached forward to unfasten Hampenstead’s trousers. Hampenstead stopped him short, taking up both of Aria’s hands.

His dark brows pinched close to his brown eyes, and he asked, “Does this mean you’ve thought about my invitation?”

Aria swallowed, more nervous to discuss that than to take Hampenstead into his mouth. “Well, yes.”

“And?”

Twice now, Aria had been wronged by the nobles he’d cared for. Ellor never intended to marry him—he wanted control over him emotionally. Noble never intended to marry him—he wanted a wife to satisfy the expectations of his family. Before he agreed to anything, he had to know. “Do you see yourself marrying me one day?”

Hampenstead blinked behind his round spectacles a few times, clearly thrown by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Not now—no, I don’t mean—” Aria laughed nervously, and sat back on his heels. “I mean in the far future, if everything is good, and we’re a good match, would you marry me?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and said, “I don’t think patrons often marry their adame, do they?”

The silence from Aria wasn’t quiet at all, because the music player continued to ding-ding-ping-ring in the background. He stared, utterly still, into Hampenstead’s eyes. “What?”