Chapter Text
Adam Parrish was not one to believe in omens, but as his day drew close to an end, he thought perhaps it would have been wiser if he did. Then, he would have taken it as a sign that his day was bound to be nothing but atrocious when he woke only to see sunlight. It would not have troubled him were he in his own bed, but unfortunately, it made a world of difference in the bedchamber of Lord Ronan Lynch.
Instinctively, Adam swore and picked up his breeches from the floor, jostling Ronan in his hurry. The other boy cracked his eyes open lazily, but blinked awake quickly when he saw the look on Adam’s face. He too swore when the situation dawned on him.
“I need to leave,” Adam told him.
Before Ronan could say anything, the sound of floorboards creaking made their blood freeze.
Ronan was quick to call out in a steady voice, “Not now.”
The maid on the other side of the door hesitated before answering shakily, “My lord?”
“I said not now.” There was an edge to Ronan’s words now, making his meaning clear.
There was a brief silence before the floorboards creaked again, this time along with receding footsteps.
Adam’s heart still pounded when he recovered enough to search for his shirt. He shook his head as he said, “I need to go before anyone sees me.”
Ronan moved to lean on his side, and as Adam pulled on his shirt, he caught sight of the sheets that now slung low across the boy’s hips. He buried the temptation to crawl back into bed and shove everything out of the way.
“Go through the gardens,” Ronan told, then, after a moment of contemplation, he added, “I trust my household, Adam. They won’t tell.”
Adam did not answer, but there was no need for him to. They both knew how trust came to him with much difficulty. When he was finally dressed and ready to leave, he glanced at Ronan who caught his eye. It should not have come as a surprise- they were always pulled to each other like moths drawn to the light.
A smile tugged at Ronan’s lips as he drawled, “Aren’t you going to give your blushing mistress a kiss?”
Against himself, Adam smiled back. He propped one knee on the bed to bring himself closer to Ronan. Brushing his thumb across Ronan’s lower lip, Adam whispered, “You’re a menace.”
Ronan nipped at his finger. “Would you have it any other way?”
They both knew the answer was no, with finality to it.
When Adam leaned down to kiss Ronan, he half expected the other boy to push his tongue between his teeth immediately, but there was a kind of mellowness to Ronan in the morning. The kiss stayed lingering and sweet, and just for a moment, Adam could forget that he was merely a servant of the king’s, and he could let himself indulge in the forbidden notion of waking up every morning just like this for the rest of his life.
When they broke apart, reality punched its way back to him, but was made less brutal by the sight of Ronan’s swollen mouth. Adam watched the words weave their way from between those lips: “Go be a magician.”
In that second, Adam Parrish felt as if he could fight storms and raise the earth, but that never lasted long. After all, he knew it was a different world in Lord Ronan Lynch’s bedchamber.
If that near miss was not enough of a sign, perhaps Adam’s heavy heart was- or rather, the way he could barely keep his mind on task. Cabeswater evaded him the whole morning, and in his miserable rage, he ruined two healing concoctions, earning a disapproving look from Sir Malory. The old man seemed to regret ever taking him under his wing- as if he had any choice in the matter in the first place. As if Adam was not brought to the castle by the scruff of his neck years ago, young and bleeding. As if he was not put on his bruised knees and made to swear fealty to the royal name of Gansey.
Then, there was Lady Gwenllian of the House of Glendower.
The king’s household was well-informed about the honorable guest before the carriages from Henrietta’s neighboring lands arrived with fanfare, and there was an order to treat her with the upmost respect, and this in turn ignited much confusion as such a thing came naturally to the household as with every guest. However, Lady Gwenllian’s arrival was illuminating.
It took much restraint for the servants not to whisper or giggle about Lady Gwenllian’s spontaneous songs, wild dances, and loud cackles. Adam, who did not deal with gossip and thought of Lady Gwenllian as nothing more than a mere curiosity, was unbothered by her presence until that very day.
Adam was on his way to the forest, carrying two stones in his pocket along with his hope of reaching Cabeswater, when Lady Gwenllian appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of another one of her strange dances, she tripped over him, but he caught her before she fell. Once she was steady on her feet, she ripped her arm out from his grasp.
“Don’t touch me, mongrel," she sneered.
The words sliced into Adam’s skin, and it took everything in him to fight his disdain for the woman before him. “Forgive me, my lady,” he made himself answer tonelessly, and bowed. With his head down, he listened to her huff and skip away. The cold reminder of his lowly position made his gut clench.
One day, he thought, as though that one day would surely come.
One day.
Although it meant risking an encounter with his brother, Ronan Lynch was still a frequent visitor of the house of God. No one knew better than he did that ignoring Declan Lynch took not so much skill as resolve, and Ronan had it down to a fine art at this point.
He had taken to sitting in one of the pews at the back rather than the front with the rest of his family- well, part of his family anyway. Of course, he missed spending time with Matthew, but there would be time for amends later.
However, Ronan had felt off-kilter all morning. Perhaps it was simply because Adam had woken late, which he never did before, or perhaps it was the familiar selfishness that ignited within him like an all-consuming fire when they kissed. Whatever it was made Ronan itch for a drink after the long sermon. It was his very misfortune to be a step too slow in leaving the church, landing him straight into Declan’s clutches.
“You were seen,” his brother hissed.
If Ronan was not so thrown by the words, he would not have allowed himself to be dragged away from prying eyes. When he finally recovered enough, he shoved Declan away, face wrought with disgust. “What in God’s name are you on about?”
Declan’s fury was plain to see. “My man saw that servant Parrish leave your quarters this morning. Do you dare deny it?”
Ronan’s anger could rival his. “You planted spies in my household?” Adam was right after all. Of course he was.
“That household is as much mine as it is yours,” Declan shot back. “And it does well to remind them of that. Their unwavering loyalty to you is revolting.”
So it wasn’t his people. It took everything in Ronan to mask his relief. “I am not having this conversation with you.”
Before Ronan could turn to leave, Declan whispered furiously, “You would damn well stay if you want Parrish to get on the King’s Council.”
Those two words were enough to root Ronan in his spot. Two words that pointed to the kingdom’s elite, made up of the king’s most trusted knights and scholars- the same two words that looked like a key to Adam, but a chain to Ronan.
Declan seemed to realize that he had caught Ronan’s attention now. “Not that he stands much of a chance in the first place. Magic has no place in the Council, especially not a tree-hugger like him.”
With his hands clenched into fists, Ronan felt an actual physical ache from his restraint. Declan knew well enough about the magic coursing through his veins, and those words were meant to cut personally. Ronan’s glare turned vicious. “Are you threatening me?”
Declan pulled back, visibly reining in his anger. “Call it whatever you like. I told you to be careful. I told you. We could lose everything just because of you!”
“You mean you would lose everything,” Ronan shot back.
“Yes, Ronan.” Declan stared at his brother. “I suppose that’s just it. You don’t care about any of this, but when everything is gone, what will happen to Matthew? You know he would never make it on his own. Lord knows he is too kind for this world. What then, Ronan? What will you do?”
Ronan had no answer, and so he turned to his weapons. “My life is none of your business.”
“I do not care what happens behind your door as long as it stays closed,” Declan answered sharply. “But it’s a bit late for that, is it not? Soon, people will start to talk.”
Stonily, Ronan asked, “What do you want?”
His brother straightened up and told, “You are nine and ten. I think it is time for marriage to be a proper consideration.”
Ronan barked out a laugh. “Are you out of your mind?”
“This is not a game, Ronan.” Declan looked tired now. “I ask you to think about our family. Think about Matthew, and if you care about the servant, think about the King’s Council.”
With everything laid out that way, it was clear that there was no escape or even a choice in the first place. Ronan exhaled sharply. “You say this is not a game, but it damn well looks like you have won.”
Declan took a step back and spread out his arms. “And look what a fortune I have gained.”
As the two brothers went their own separate ways, looking from above, they were nothing but the same dark, miserable spot, lost among thousands of others.