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Fourteen years later, and Ezilio still felt conflicted about being the right hand of the Golden of the Fourteen Realms. Terrano was a good man, a hero, and he had proven himself worthy of the title bestowed upon him when he and Ezilio were both ten years old. Ten was far too young to be a hero of the realm, of course, but Terrano's hair had gone spun-sunshine yellow and his eyes had started to glimmer and that was that, Ezilio's best friend was off for bigger and better things while Ezilio was stuck, still short and plain and the third son of a minor noble.
Terrano had kept Ezilio, though, insisting that his best friend get to do the training with him. Ezilio didn't have the Gift of Gold to help him, but he was a hard worker, and with effort, he made sure he remained useful. Oh, certainly, he was never going to be as good as a sword, and magic didn't flow from his fingers, but it had been a long time since those had been the only tools to hand. Ezilio was a damn fine shot, and he could send and receive in Morse code faster than anybody else in the fourteen realms.
"We've got an alert coming in," Ezilio said, ear pressed against the bulky headphone, listening to the beeps and dashes on their portable radio.
"Is it urgent?" Terrano asked as he paused in the middle of applying golden shimmer to his cheeks. He gave Ezilio a worried look, mixed with a hint of pout.
"I don't know yet, haven't gotten the information," Ezilio replied, as he responded with the general 'receiving, proceed' code.
Terrano looked at the door, then back to Ezilio. "I suppose," he said reluctantly with one last longing look at the door, "I should stick around for the message to come through. It might be important."
Always so committed to duty. "I've got it," Ezilio said, waving him off. "I'll find you if somebody's about to die. You need a night off."
"Stars that bind, I do." Terrano said. He gave Ezilio a guilty smile. "If you're sure. You know how long it's been since I've had one."
Ezilio did know. It had been four months and eleven days since the last time Terrano had been able to go out dancing, find a friendly body, and bring them back to the rooms, with that same guilty-apologetic smile as Ezilio packed up his stuff and lied that he didn't mind.
Ezilio didn't mind that Terrano was getting much needed rest and relaxation. He did mind, with an encompassing jealousy that burned in his bones, that it wasn't him.
Thus, why steadfastly devoting his life to aiding Terrano and his mission might have been a bad idea. Ezilio had been in love with Terrano since he knew what love was, and Terrano regarded him as a steadfast friend.
Ezilio was a steadfast friend. He was Terrano's tech, his sniper, his intel officer, and his secretary. He just also wanted to be the one that Terrano took into his arms, kissed until they were both shining, and fucked slow and steady into the mattress.
But none of those desires actually mattered, so he waved the reluctant Terrano on his way, lied again as he said, Hope you have fun.
It took Central Control a minute to reply and some further back and forth to resolve the message. One of the fourteen Silvered had been identified, in the very same town Terrano was currently out and about somewhere carousing. There was no immediate sign of corruption, but someone needed to get eyes on the Silvered and see if it was one of the Crooked or one of the Clean.
Nobody knew why there was only one Golden and fourteen Silvered. There were half a dozen myths through history that tried to explain it, something about the sun and the stars and the realm bathed in moonlight. Nobody really knew though. Certainly nobody knew why about half the Silvered had a tendency to grow corrupt and use their healing light to start transforming people and animals into monsters. Scientists kept insisting it was a fascinating area of study, but then they all hemmed and hawed and insisted it was an area of study for somebody else, because they'd rather not risk the monster transformation, thank you very much.
Ezilio ran his fingers through his hair. By someone should check out the Silvered, they meant Terrano, of course. But this was a fairly new iteration. Terrano had finished killing the last of the old established Crooked three years back. There wasn't too much risk, even if the Silvered had gone full-force corruption from the get-go. Ezilio knew the signs of transformation as well as anyone, and he was far better at recon work than Terrano was.
Sort of hard to blend in when you glowed.
"Acknowledged, on mission," Ezilio sent back. Then he tucked his slim revolver into its shoulder holster, hid three cold iron knives on his person, and slipped out the door.
Just because it was low risk didn't mean it was no risk.
The problem was that the Silvered in question was Lady Methalia, and she had standards for whom she'd allow on her property. Annoying things, standards. It might make it harder for Ezilio to disguise himself among the staff.
It wasn't until the decorators, the catering team, housekeeping, and even the stable crew all refused to allow Ezilio in on their crew that Ezilio realized how dire the situation had become.
He was going to have to wear a suit and talk to people.
It's not that he minded talking to people. He liked talking to his people. Terrano had a knack for making friends wherever he went. Ezilio couldn't even blame it on the Gift of Gold, considering the whole reason shy Ezilio had become friends with Terrano in the first place was that Terrano decided they were friends and that was that.
But the alternative was that he go find Terrano and interrupt him in the middle of flirting with whomever he chose to bestow his affections on tonight. Ezilio could manage some formalwear and small talk. He went to go find a tailor.
The club wasn't Terrano's usual sort of place, smokey and dark with mournful horns sounding in the background. But it seemed like a good place to rest for a bit. To look, rather than be seen.
He was usually seen. He didn't have a problem with it—it was what being the Golden was about. Hope made manifest, his teachers had always told him. Terrano liked that part of his job, he really did. People lit up around him, and that made the world better. But sometimes he didn't want to be seen. Sometimes he wanted to be quiet, to just be.
"Terrano?" a surprised voice said, and Terrano sighed. He smothered his disappointment, and sent a smile over to the Central Control officer heading toward the booth.
Terrano laid a finger against his false smile and patted the seat of the booth next to him. Maybe he could still find some peace if he accepted the company. "Lieutenant Marlow, right?" Terrano said softly once she had slid in next to him.
"I, uh, yeah!" she said with that usual slightly dazed expression someone got when the Golden remembered their name.
Terrano gave a faint inward sigh. Thank goodness for Ezilio, honestly. He would have gone insane without his friend to keep him grounded. Everyone else covered him in hero worship; Ezilio snorted and pointed out that he was still terrible at doing dishes.
"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, looking worried.
"Enjoying the music," Terrano admitted. "I do occasionally take a break from fighting monsters."
Too occasionally. Ezilio always said he was on the verge of burning out. Ezilio was good about making sure Terrano got to rest, shoving him down onto the couch with a book and putting some music on before stalking out of the room again. The quiet was nice, but Terrano actually recharged around other people. Unfortunately, being around other people led to things like the current conversation.
"No," Marlow said, her brow creased with worry. "You, uh, responded that you were going to investigate Lady Methalia?"
Lady Methalia? The most powerful woman in the city? Terrano tried to hide a grimace. This must have been what came in after he left the room. He didn't want to rat Ezilio out as a filthy liar, so Terrano just inclined his head. "Ezilio is doing some preliminary groundwork."
"For a Silvered?" Marlow blinked wide eyes. "Is he Gifted, too? A knack-maker? Central's never shared that!"
A Silvered. Terrano kept his face impassive. Ezilio had gone up against a night-cursed Silvered alone. And no, Ezilio wasn't a knack-maker, he was only Terrano's indispensable best friend and right hand, and he was going to get himself killed. "If Central won't share, I won't, either. And now if you'll excuse me, Lieutenant, I believe the next phase of the evening is starting soon."
The next phase being Terrano bursting into Lady Methalia's manor and slicing his shimmering sword through her neck if she had dared to hurt Ezilio. And if she hadn't hurt Ezilio, maybe killing Ezilio instead. Terrano had wanted a break, but a new Silvered emerging was exactly the sort of thing a Golden was for, the little idiot.
Muttering unfavorable thoughts the whole time, Terrano stalked back to the hotel, grabbed his formal uniform, and took to the streets blazing with the full power of the Gift of Gold.
The infiltration was going decently well, Ezilio had to admit. He'd gotten the right clothes and felt he was managing a fairly decent broody and mysterious party guest. Nobody needed to know he was actually a socially awkward and trying to figure out if he needed to kill the host party guest.
Ezilio kept moving through the manor, watching for the telltale signs of the Crooked: misplaced shadows, silence where there should be noise, cold without source. Nothing so far. Just a boring manor party with too many nobles and not enough quiet corners to hide in.
"He's here?"
The excited, nervous question caught Ezilio's attention, and he slid toward the asker, hoping to eavesdrop on more of the conversation.
"Strode in, proud as you please." The second voice carried the accent of the Eastern Realms, where small villages dotted farmlands. Probably serving staff.
"And Lady Methalia let him?" the first voice said, sounding scandalized.
"Well, it's not like she could stop him, now could she," the second voice said matter of factly. "Not with her being all up and front about being Silvered."
Ezilio's heart started to sink. There was only one person he could think of that Lady Methalia literally couldn't refuse to let into her party.
"Yeah, but she's Clean. Did a big healing and everything. Crooked don't heal. Right?" The first voice started to sound uncertain.
Ezilio grimaced. The Crooked certainly could heal. All the Silvered could. Most didn't bother. One of the craftiest, Lord Netheer, had run a hospital where he personally healed the most dire cases. It took Terrano's investigation to find out that the basement had light where no light should be, and monsters had been born there by the dozens. What made the plot really clever were the tunnels. The monsters roved through the city's underground and came out in the plains surrounding the city, like they were ferals finally drawn by the mass of citybound humans.
Still, he didn't have any reason to believe that Lady Methalia was Crooked. The much bigger issue was that Terrano was here. How did he even find out? He was supposed to be finding some pretty thing to fuck while Ezilio took care of things and didn't think about the way Terrano's breath hitched when he came.
Ezilio debated between slipping out and pretending he'd never been here and going to find Terrano and looping him in. Ezilio flattened his lips. He was a sniper by nature, and discretion was his game. He could slip out, come around the front, and re-enter, and act like he was meeting Terrano there.
Ezilio made it downstairs again, then he made the mistake of turning towards the servants entrance. A polite maid bustled him back toward the party, informing him that there was "nothing back that way for a fine gentleman such as yourself; need to get you a spot of brandy, come on with me." Ezilio barely managed to shake her before she dragged him back to the main hall, which was almost certainly where Terrano was swanning around. Ezilio turned to go back through the quieter hallways and out through the side halls.
And ran straight into the very man he was trying to avoid. Terrano, decked out in his full Golden getup, looked furious. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.
Terrano didn't know what he was more angry about, the fact that Ezilio had walked into the home of a Silvered alone or the fact that he had done it as a guest. Terrano had been keeping an eagle eye on the serving and cleaning staff. That was usually where Ezilio hid, ducking his head and moving along and getting all the information Terrano never could.
He'd been getting worried when he hadn't found Ezilio in any of those faces. He'd spun out a million harrowing scenarios. Lady Methalia was Crooked, and she had him tied up, she had him beaten, she was shoving her twisted magic into him and turning him into a being with too many teeth and too many shadows.
But no. Apparently, Ezilio was mingling. Ezilio didn't mingle! In a suit no less! Terrano had no idea what to do with the image of the man in front of him.
He had to admit, he often still remembered Ezilio from when they were both ten, and Terrano had magic pouring off of him and Ezilio hadn't joined him in training yet. Or when they were both fifteen, and Terrano had already achieved his full height and Ezilio had barely managed a few inches. He knew, of course, that Ezilio had grown since then, but when they were sixteen they killed their first Crooked and they hadn't rested since. There had never been time for him to really stop and look at Ezilio.
He was looking now.
Ezilio was wearing a gorgeous charcoal-grey suit with black embroidery. It set off his black hair and light-brown skin beautifully. Ezilio was taller than Terrano, had been since he finally hit his proper growth spurt at age seventeen, but he almost always hunched. In the suit, though, he stood tall, and Terrano found himself looking up, off-balance and no idea what to do about it. His body wanted to tuck itself into the curl of Ezilio's arms, wanted to tilt his chin back and let those golden eyes he had been gifted with turn soft and pleading while he begged for a kiss.
No. He was mad at Ezilio! He didn't want anything to do with the stern line of Ezilio's lips, which Terrano had always thought of as withdrawn, something he needed to fix. Now, it had transformed into a part of Ezilio's glowering appeal. No! No appeal! "What are you doing here?" he managed to choke out while his brain was busy fighting with itself.
Ezilio looked around and grabbed Terrano's wrist, hauling him somewhere more private for the questioning.
Terrano stumbled after, more off-balance than he usually was. He had got to pull himself together.
"I was doing recon," Ezilio explained, his voice low and firm. "I had it handled."
"On a Silvered?" Terrano focused. He wasn't going to let Ezilio explain this away. "That's not how this works. Even when you're doing the recon, I'm there to back you up."
"She's newly emerged, it's not like—"
"And if I had gone after her without you in a sniper seat?" Terrano snapped back.
"Sort of what you're doing right now," Ezilio muttered.
"Without you even knowing?" Terrano bit out, not accepting that for a second.
Ezilio's jaw tightened, and then he collapsed all at once, his shoulders rounding back down. "No. But you were having a night out. This wasn't essential. I figured I could get you the information, and we could plan it out tomorrow."
Terrano reached forward, and even as his brain was screaming at his hand, stop being weird you're being weird, he reached out and cupped Ezilio's cheek. "That's not how this works. New rule. No going after Silvered alone. For either of us."
Ezilio's cheeks flushed pink. Terrano didn't think he had been that harsh in his criticism. Still, Ezilio agreed, "Okay," so Terrano figured he got his point across.
He let go of Ezilio's cheek and straightened his shoulders. "So. What have you learned?"
Ezilio straightened again and ran his fingers through his hair. How come Terrano had never noticed how silky Ezilio's hair looked?
Because that was a stupid thing to notice about his best friend. His best friend who was the only person who had ever treated Terrano as a normal human being once the Gold came in. His best friend who was an absolutely indispensable part of Terrano's mission, who understood the importance of protecting people against corrupted foes but still wanted to make sure Terrano got the rest he needed. It was a stupid thing to notice, because as far as he was aware, Ezilio wasn't interested in anyone. The last thing Terrano needed to do was make Ezilio feel uncomfortable because Terrano had noticed how nice Ezilio looked in a suit.
"Precious little," Ezilio said, and it took a good half a second for Terrano to even remember that he had asked a question. "I've been through everywhere except the servant's quarters. None of the usual signs."
Now that his anger was spent, Terrano offered Ezilio a wry smile and an admission of his own foolhardiness. "I'm afraid I may have ruined our chances of assessing the lady in secret."
"You always do," Ezilio said fondly back. "I've heard she's been healing. Maybe she's Clean."
"I'm certainly not going to kill someone until I know they're Crooked," Terrano said. "Do you think if I keep drawing attention, they'll let you work in peace?"
Ezilio gifted him a smile that was fond, but he shook his head. "Do you have any idea how many servants have walked by while we've had our little tiff? At least four."
Terrano, as he had for so much of his life, offered an apologetic smile in response. This was good. Normal. "In that case, would you like to dance with me? Since I've blown your cover anyway, we might as well take the direct approach."
What. Terrano's mind immediately engaged in a brief civil war. This wasn't getting back to normal! This was dancing. Terrano and Ezilio didn't dance with each other. That was something Terrano always did with the people that didn't stay.
Ezilio seemed to think some of the same, because he immediately recoiled. But before Terrano could offer a proper apology, Ezilio straightened and inclined his head. "Of course," he said, a tight little smile on his face. "Only sensible."
"If you don't—" Terrano started, knowing he had got things wrong but not sure how he had. Ezilio preferred the background, not the spotlight. Terrano shouldn't have asked him—
Ezilio held out his hand. "May I?" he said, full of grave formality, and tugged Terrano back into the ballroom.
This wasn't the finest idea that Ezilio had ever had, but Terrano had looked up at him the way Ezilio had always wanted to see and asked the thing Ezilio had always wanted to hear. Ezilio wasn't strong enough to turn him down.
Terrano seemed to expect Ezilio to lead. Ezilio hadn't anticipated that. Terrano had an effortless air of authority from being deferred to in just about everything since he was twelve years old. Really amazing the man hadn't become insufferable, honestly. But, Ezilio realized with a wry bit of self-awareness as he folded Terrano possessively in his arms, Ezilio hadn't deferred to him at all. Followed him, certainly, but deferred to him? Absolutely not.
Ezilio led Terrano through the steps of the dance, well aware of the murmurs around them. What an unusual sight—the Golden, and, wait, wasn't that the little companion that followed the Golden around? Ezilio tried to ignore them. It was easier when he looked at Terrano.
Terrano didn't seem to notice at all, beaming up at Ezilio with his typical enthusiasm. All he'd ever wanted, for this perfect, fragile moment was given to Ezilio.
Yes, they were in the home of a Silvered. Yes, they needed to stay on their guard. But the home hadn't shown any signs of corruption, and Terrano was in his arms, and Ezilio let himself enjoy the dance.
That turned out to be a mistake when a ten foot tall corrupted beast crashed through one of the wide windows that bracketed the grand hall.
"Shit," Terrano said, stumbling out of Ezilio's arms and drawing his sword and his power alike.
"Destroy it," Ezilio ordered as he grabbed his gun and retreated to ranged distance. He felt more vengeful than usual as he watched Terrano begin the deadly dance he was so good at.
In the meantime, Ezilio had other business to attend to—namely finding where Lady Methalia was, and did she have any more of the corrupted hiding in other corners of her house? Ezilio wrinkled his nose as he looked. It didn't add up. The house had been clear. Pretty much the only place Ezilio hadn't been able to check was the servant's quarters, and that would be the least likely place for Lady Methalia to try to hide evidence of corruption. Too much interference. Maybe there was a root cellar or something, though. The monster had come from outside.
Ezilio finally caught sight of the Lady. She was cowering behind a table, her eyes wide and terrified as she watched Terrano dance with the corrupted—draft horse. Terrano felt confident saying that now. Stables, then. Need to check the stables.
Her fear bothered him, though. He'd watched Terrano fight a lot of corrupted, and their Crooked Silvered controllers never looked afraid. They were always smug, triumphant, high on their power made manifest.
Something didn't add up here.
Ezilio was still scanning the room, looking for the piece that didn't fit, the thing that he was missing, when the window behind him crashed open. Ezilio reacted a moment too slowly, but still, his diving roll meant that the corrupted slashed claws through Ezilio's calf, not his head.
Ezilio bit down on a scream and cast a hopeful glance at Terrano. No, still throwing gold at the former draft horse on the other end of the hall. Ezilio was on his own for this one. He started out of the reach of the monster, scrambling at the buttons on the stupidly tight jacket he was wearing.
The corrupted didn't follow. It seemed to give up Ezilio as a bad bet and turned to find some less mobile partygoers to maul. Ezilio ran his tongue over his teeth. He wasn't the hero. He didn't have an obligation to save anyone or the Gift of Gold to make it possible. But he had cold iron knives and years of training, and that was more than those poor fools in the starched suits and taffeta skirts had ever gotten.
"Fine," Ezilio huffed in irritation as he shrugged out of his jacket. He let it fall to the ground, drew his blades, and threw himself at the monster.
The corrupted was...some sort of horse. But a really, really big one. And it was so far down the path of corruption it was nearly impossible to identify. It had grown a hoard of extra legs, and its front hooves had mutated into slashing clawed proto-hands.
It was a fight that required care, but it wasn't one that had him particularly worried. He simply needed to take his time and not make any stupid moves. He dodged around one of the slow, flailing arms—actually very fast in reality, but the burst of Gold through his limbs gave him speed enough that it was easy to move around.
When Terrano got past the lashing claws, close enough to strike, the thing's head was now covered in mouths. They tried to bite him, of course. They always tried to bite. Terrano thrust his sword and cut through the once-horse's neck, with no hope it would actually kill the thing. Once a being was this far corrupted, you had to destroy the power nexus that animated them. Chop off a head, and you just wound up with a disgusting little head bobbing around trying to bite you while you tried to kill the rest of it.
Terrano finally caught sight of the power nexus near the second back leg. He readied his blade, dodged around the limbs, and struck home straight and true. He smiled with satisfaction as the corrupted started collapsing, as the Silver power animating them boiled away.
It was then that Terrano noticed the screams from the other half of the room. He noticed the high shattered window first. A second corrupted? He started running even as the chaos below was still resolving. There was the corrupted, blackened and covered in eyes, fighting something that seemed to actually be keeping it busy.
And then from behind the corrupted, its target jumped out of the way, and Terrano realized in horror that the something keeping it busy was Ezilio. He started running faster.
He was too late, even with the Gold. The corrupted turned, and their knife-sharp arm reached out and speared Ezilio through the shoulder. Terrano slid to a horrified stop in front of the corrupted. He couldn't chop it off, the arm could hurt Ezilio more if—
Ezilio smiled a terrible smile, his mouth red with blood and lifted his non-injured arm. He was holding a revolver, now pointed at the corrupted.
"Got you, you bastard," Ezilio hissed, then shot three bullets straight through the exposed power nexus, right under the arm that was pinning him.
The corrupted collapsed, and Ezilio with it.
Terrano was at Ezilio's side bracing him before he hit the ground. "You idiot!" he said, trying to find a way to hold him that wouldn't aggravate the wound. "Why did you—"
"Better me than them," Ezilio said with a cough, nodding over at the terrified party-goers. "I had cold iron." His head rolled back to stare at Terrano. He was starting to go glassy-eyed. "I got him." Ezilio smiled up at Terrano with a split lip and a blackened eye. He looked unrepentant, ferocious, and so beautiful Terrano wanted to cry.
Ezilios blood kept pouring through Terrano's fingers. Too much. He was going to lose Ezilio. He couldn't lose him. He couldn't stop it. Gold was useless for healing. Gold was strength and speed and the fight. It was helpless in the aftermath.
"I can—" a soft voice came from behind them, and ice went down Terrano's spine. Lady Methalia. He called the gold, ready to whirl on her, run her through before he let her get one step closer to—
Ezilio caught his arm before he could gather any more gold. "Idiot," he rasped. "Look at her."
Terrano was looking. Terrano saw the Silver in her fingertips. He knew what he was doing. He'd killed enough Silvered. He knew how to make it stick.
"Second," Ezilio rasped with a cough. "Silvered."
Terrano blinked. There was Silver in Lady Methalia's fingers. But she wasn't crackling with channeled rage. The lady was terrified. Terrified but over here anyway, because…
Because she could heal Ezilio. Because there was a second Silvered here, somewhere, running the corrupted.
Terrano backed away quickly, gesturing Lady Methalia forward. He was already scanning the windows, looking at the approach—
"Horse," Ezilio said.
"Quiet until I've got you healed," Lady Methalia ordered, much more confident now that she had gotten past Terrano.
"No," Ezilio said to her, sounding irritated. He took a wet breath and continued. "Giant fucking horse, check the stables."
Terrano blinked. That was rather obvious when he thought about it. He offered Ezilio a lopsided smile.
"Go," Ezilio ordered.
Terrano went.
Ezilio really hoped he was right about the second Silvered thing. But either he took a risk or he was going to die in Terrano's arms, and that was more maudlin than he could stomach. Even if Lady Methalia was Crooked, better Terrano leave and let Ezilio get turned into a monstrosity against nature in peace.
"I'm done talking," he informed her.
She gave him an odd look before she settled next to him and put her hand against his shoulder. Ezilio felt the blinding pain recede.
"I've heard people say," she said softly, "that he's lucky to have you. Not many Golden have such a devoted companion."
Ezilio snorted. "Few people stupid enough," he replied, the relief of the pain receding making his tongue looser than it normally was.
"I think they're wrong," she said.
"I'm lucky he lets me tag around? That's a common opinion, too," Ezilio said, looking down to watch the threads of Silver flow into him, knitting his muscle and bone back together.
"No," she said again. "I think that we are lucky you have each other. No one would have blamed him if he had slain me."
"That is a more unique perspective," Ezilio considered. "He's not bad, he just doesn't always think things through. He listens, though, when you talk to him."
"When you talk to him," Lady Methalia clarified. "The Golden become tyrants so easily. It's the only reason I've tolerated the rise of Central."
Ezilio's brow furrowed.
"Trust me," she said softly. "I am ninety-two years old. It is only the Silver that has me looking this young. I have seen many Goldens and feared them all. We are lucky he has you." She nodded fiercely before adding, "And I would hate to see what danger you would wreak on society if you were not devoted to him. You killed a corrupted with two daggers and a revolver. Those things kill armies."
"I've trained…" Ezilio started to say weakly. "I mean I nearly…" Ezilio looked down at his shoulder, before looking back up at Lady Methalia.
"Let me guess. Younger son of a small house?" Lady Methalia smiled. "You would have gone into trade, Central Command, or the army. In any case, you would have owned half the world before you were done. I know your type. You're his brain, he's your morals, and we all sleep better for it."
Lady Methalia gave Ezilio's shoulder a firm pat. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Ezilio, looking down at his healed skin, couldn't.
"Come by and see me from time to time," Lady Methalia ordered. "You can make sure I don't turn Crooked. And you can rest sure in the knowledge that I am very invested in keeping you both alive. If I'm stuck in this world for a bit longer, I'd prefer to not fear the Golden."
"Understood," Ezilio said faintly. He stood and rolled out his shoulder. "I'd better go—"
Lady Methalia gestured him toward the door.
Terrano had killed the Silvered by the time Ezilio got out there. He was coated in blood and gasping with effort, but the body of the—yep, stablemaster, Ezilio should have known when the servant's hiring was locked down that tightly—sat slumped on his feet, and Terrano looked no worse for the wear.
"Nice bit of work," Ezilio called. "I'm not looking forward to drafting the report on this one to Central."
Terrano whirled, his eyes going wide. "Ezilio," he breathed, and ran for him.
Ezilio braced, but Terrano was a gentle whirlwind when he actually arrived. His hands flitted over the hole in Ezilio's suit, then found the other gash near his thigh, and he looked up at Ezilio with a helpless expression.
The Golden become tyrants so easily.
Ezilio couldn't imagine Terrano ever becoming a tyrant. Not when Terrano looked at him like this. Then again, that was Lady Methalia's whole point. Terrano looked at him.
"I thought I'd lost you," Terrano said.
"Never," Ezilio promised.
Terrano stepped closer, fitting his palm against Ezilio's cheek. Ezilio felt his skin burn with how close Terrano was. He swayed closer.
"How could I have missed this for so long?" Terrano wondered, and then he went up on his toes and kissed Ezilio.
It felt right, like a key turning a lock after trying a hundred other keys, an impossible task until it was the easiest thing in the world. "I love you," Ezilio whispered as Terrano pulled away. Words he could never say—until he'd said them.
"I didn't know," Terrano replied softly. "I'm so sorry, Ezilio, I didn't know. I love you, too," he added, almost like an afterthought.
"I didn't say," Ezilio said, then leaned down and kissed Terrano again. "Your intelligence officer was sleeping on the job."
Terrano laughed. "I—" He gave Ezilio another overwhelmed look, reaching up so he was cradling Ezilio's face between both his hands. "I don't know how to do this when it means something. With somebody that stays."
Ezilio's hands found Terrano's waist, and he ran his thumb along the crease of hip he found there. "I don't know how to do anything else," he admitted. "You have me. You've always had me. And I've always wanted you."
"I took you for granted," Terrano said, offering his familiar apologetic smile along with the words. "I won't again."
Ezilio laughed with pure joy. "Yes, you did, but I've always forgiven you. Don't do it again. I think you'll break me if you change your mind."
"Never," Terrano said fiercely and pulled Ezilio down for another kiss. "You have me, too," he promised between kisses. "Now and until the end of time."