Page 8 of Noble Charms

“But that’s not the love I seek.”

“Obviously. She’s a woman.”

Aria rolled his eyes, and Noble took that as a victory too—at least it was some expression. “I meant that, from these childhood tales, love was written as something grand and sweeping. I’m moving to New Hieroph not only to pursue my bardic arts, but because it’s the largest city in all of Allbright. If my true love resides within our kingdom, I hope that he may be there. I have felt called to that place, to find true love, my whole life.”

Noble smiled, relaxing against his hand propped upon the wall of the carriage.

Aria met his eyes, wary, and said, “What?”

“No, nothing. It’s just a little bit of a naive look at romance, I think.” Aria’s face flushed at the same moment he donned that emotionless mask to protect himself from his big negative feelings—a contrast that Noble couldn’t help but chuckle at. Again. “I apologize. I don’t mean to condescend. But I fall in love all the time. I’ve loved dozens of women in my life. And I’ll probably love dozens more.”

“Then I suppose we have different definitions of love.”

“How would you define yours?”

Aria looked out the window. “In the elven Tale of Wilde, a prince at a big formal gala approaches the woman he wants to marry—the daughter of the rival king. He holds out his hand and says that if she takes it, and dances with him that night, that he will marry her, and dance with her every night for the rest of their lives, and they’ll form their own kingdom in peace. And she’s afraid, but he’s so handsome and kind, and she knows they would be benevolent rulers together. She puts her hand into his, and they dance and live happily ever after.”

“And you go to New Hieroph hoping someone will ask you to dance.”

Aria tucked his hair neatly behind his ears and said, “It’s possible.”

Noble couldn’t help himself. He gestured with one hand and said, “There are no princes in New Hieroph. There are, at best, rakish men that will ask you for far more than a dance.”

“It’s not literal—I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mean to marry a prince.”

“And at such a gala, you would be a performer, no? You wouldn’t be asked to dance. You’d be providing the music others dance to.” It wasn’t impossible that a bard would wed someone of nobility, but it was unlikely. Noble snorted. “This is real life.”

“Forget I said anything,” Aria said, sinking back into his seat. “I shouldn’t’ve spoken of such things. You’re right. It’s foolish. It hadn’t worked with Onyx—” his orcish boyfriend, Noble surmised, “And it may never happen for me.”

“Wanting love isn’t foolish.” Noble stroked the trimmed beard lining his jaw and said, “But there’s a difference between the tales elven children hear and the real world.”

Aria crossed his arms and turned his focus out the windows without reply.

Damn. No smile, and still wound up tight. Perhaps sitting even more stiffly than before they spoke. But Noble had learned something valuable. Aria wished for love.

That was why he was miserable. He’d been dumped, and he was lonely. And, lucky for them both, Noble knew the solution. The task formed: he could get Aria to warm up to him if he could get Aria off. Well, not him. Noble didn’t like men that way, but Aria’s pretty affectation meant the task could be done. Noble would matchmake and Aria, with released tension and a healed heart, would be a worthy companion.

This was how he and Aria could become friends.

“Thank Elys. We’ve arrived,” said Aria. The bell above them rang again, and the ghost man swept off the driver’s seat and next to the door. When Aria reached out to open it, the ghost vanished in a flash of magic. “We may finally stop talking about this.”

“You say that as if I won’t continue our conversation over dinner. I mean to reassure you that there’s hope yet in your journey. It’s normal to have bad sex with someone. That doesn’t mean you won’t find your perfect mate.”

“I didn’t have bad sex with my boyfriend,” Aria said, voice both firm and loud. Loud enough that the nearby stable attendant, reading a paper, looked up for the first time, and raised a thick gray eyebrow in surprise. Aria’s face filled with color, even as he gave the stranger a cordial nod. The attendant, a gray-skinned horn-bearer, gave Aria and Noble a once-over with his solid red eyes. His off-white horns curled around his pointed ears, decorated with leather straps as was in fashion. Noble gave the man a big smile, and he went at ease, sitting back comfortably again. Aria said to the stranger, “One moment. I’ll bring the horses over.”

“You didn’t introduce me earlier,” said Noble, approaching one of the mares, dappled black and white, with a hand outstretched.

Aria looked between Noble’s hand and the mare’s nose and said, “The one with the speckles upon her nose—Lima. The one with the brown band—Pinto. Lima, Pinto, this is Noble.”

Noble gently stroked Lima between her eyes. “Hello, ladies.” He couldn’t help his smile as he said, “Beans. Really?”

Aria chewed his lip, nearly smiling again. “They’re temporary names. I do not mean to get attached to them.”

“Why not?”

“I’m selling them to a livery in New Hieroph. They represent the funds I will need to afford housing. My mother bought them when she procured the carriage. Her gift to me was not just this ride, but some funds to begin my life out there.”

Noble walked to Pinto’s side and patted her beneath a big, soulful, brown eye. “I see.” Pinto blinked slowly at him, and Noble grinned. Lima leaned in his direction, requesting another pat on her head, which Noble was happy to oblige. “My charms work on most women, as you see. I’m not all talk.”