What Matters Most (11 page)

Raslin debated for a moment whether to go into the cottage. Ailynn wouldn't be home for a few hours, since it was market day and she usually spent the entire day bartering.

Raslin would usually still be working for most of the day, but the ship he'd been helping unload had lost half its cargo in a squall, so he'd finished earlier than normal.

Turning away from the cottage, Raslin headed down the street, the cobblestones clicking under his boots as he walked.

He headed away from town, towards the ocean. Maybe he'd take up sailing, Raslin pondered as he walked. Once Ailynn was settled and truly happy, he could find work on a ship. The ocean was one of the only things he enjoyed about the move to Mykon, and making his living on it, while traveling, didn't sound so bad to him.

The stretch of beach he was headed to was deserted most of the time. The beach was more rock than sand, covered in driftwood, dried seaweed, and broken seashells. Raslin climbed over the rocks, settling on a large, smooth stone that was close to the water.

The ocean was calm, the afternoon sun glinting off the blue-green waters. The breeze blowing off the waves teased through his hair. Seagulls circled overhead, their squawking cries almost drowned out by the waves crashing against the rocks. It was peaceful, quiet, a far cry from the noise and rush of the docks.

Raslin wasn't sure how long he'd sat there when he heard the crunch of someone's boots on the rocks and shells behind him. Raslin frowned; Ailynn didn't know he came out to this stretch of beach, and he doubted she'd follow him if she did.

"I don't have any valuables," Raslin said loudly. He hadn't encountered anyone here before, and he was disappointed his solitude was being interrupted. The person behind him snorted, and Raslin turned, ready to run off whoever was disturbing him—only to find himself speechless.

"I don't want your valuables," Kyros said, a hesitant smile turning the corners of his lips up.

He looked good for being dead, Raslin thought inanely. He looked rested and healthy; his hair was lighter and brighter than it had been in Ourenville, his clothing fit well and didn't look like the dregs from the rag pile, and, most importantly, he wasn't dead. Raslin gaped, unable to comprehend. His heart was beating too fast, and Kyros' smile slipped away.

"Can I sit?" Kyros asked, looking unsure of himself, and Raslin nodded, shifting over so there was room for Kyros to sit next to him on the rock.

"What—" Raslin started, then stopped, not sure what he was trying to say. "How did—we were told you were hanged."

"Ah," Kyros said, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"I had hoped that news hadn't gotten this far."

"Two months ago," Raslin said. "Have you spoken with Ailynn yet?"

"No one was home. I only arrived a few hours ago. I followed you from the house." That certainly explained how he'd found Raslin, at least.

"She'll be home from market shortly." Raslin glanced at Kyros, frowning. "What happened?"

"After I let them catch me in Ourenville—"

"You let them catch you?" Raslin interrupted, suddenly angry.

"I did," Kyros said, shrugging. "It gave you and my mother a head start, especially after I spooked half their horses into the woods."

Raslin shook his head, but gestured for Kyros to continue.

"They took me back to Alesdor and gave me a rush trial."

Kyros smiled; it was a bitter, unpleasant expression. "I was found guilty and sentenced to death. That didn't happen."

"Obviously," Raslin said when Kyros paused. He wanted to reach out and touch Kyros, to reassure himself this wasn't a daydream and Kyros was actually there, was actually still alive.

"They stepped up," Kyros said softly. "I was set to be hanged a week after the trial, but the men I'd been working with managed what I couldn't. They got the signatures and went to the Crown. The council was disbanded, and my case was reinvestigated. I was cleared—someone in the council's pocket flipped and told them I'd been framed."

Raslin stared at Kyros, wondering if he was making that up.

Why would Kyros lie, though? "That's it?"

"That's it." Kyros hesitated briefly, then continued, "I had hoped to come back sooner, but with one thing and another, I couldn't leave right away."

"You weren't getting any less dead from here," Raslin said dryly, making Kyros snort. He still couldn't quite believe it, and Raslin reached out, poking Kyros' shoulder. Kyros gave him a curious look, raising an eyebrow.

"They want me to be a member of the new council they're convening," Kyros said, and there was the other shoe. Kyros would be going back to Alesdor again, then; this would only be a short visit. Raslin tried to ignore the way his stomach sank; Kyros alive and in Alesdor was better than Kyros dead. That Kyros was alive at all should be more than enough to satisfy him. "I said no."

"So … are you staying here?" Raslin asked, frowning in confusion.

"I'm not going back," Kyros confirmed, running a hand through his hair again. He shifted in his seat. "As to whether I stay … well, I don't have to, if you don't want me here."

Raslin smacked the back of Kyros' head. Kyros jerked, startled, and fell off the rock. "Don't be an idiot. I spent the last few months thinking you were dead, and now you think I want you to leave again?"

Kyros smiled wryly, rubbing his head. "You haven't heard the rest of it, yet."

"Are you in more trouble?" Raslin asked suspiciously, scowling at Kyros.

"Not yet," Kyros said, pushing himself to his feet. He was still smiling, though it was much more hesitant.

"What do you mean?" Raslin asked, feeling like he was missing something as Kyros stepped in front of him. Raslin looked up, his heart kicking up a notch as Kyros leaned down, and Raslin understood a second before Kyros' lips touched his. It was a soft, quick kiss, barely a brush of Kyros' soft lips against Raslin's rougher, chapped lips, but Raslin swore he could still feel it even as Kyros straightened up.

"Am I in more trouble now?" Kyros asked, obviously trying to be flippant, but too nervous to pull it off. He looked so good, standing there in front of Raslin with the sea behind him. His hair was being pushed and pulled in a handful of different directions by the wind, and he looked so vibrant that Raslin was momentarily speechless.

Raslin glared at him for a second, then grabbed the front of Kyros' shirt when he tried to step back, away. "You will be if you try to walk away from me again."

Kyros stared at him uncomprehendingly, and Raslin rolled his eyes, awkwardly managing to stand up without relinquishing his grip on Kyros' shirt. He used that grip to pull Kyros close, and Kyros didn't hesitate as Raslin kissed him, returning the kiss full measure. Kyros' arms wrapped around Raslin's neck, and Raslin nearly lost his balance as Kyros pressed close, pushing the kiss deeper. Raslin groaned, kissing Kyros desperately like he'd wanted to do for years and years, like he'd never thought he'd be able to.

"That was the other reason," Kyros murmured, when Raslin finally, reluctantly, pulled away to breath.

"Other reason," Raslin repeated, not able to think past kissing Kyros.

"The other reason I don't want to go back," Kyros said, his grip tightening around Raslin's neck.

"Oh," Raslin said, wondering if he was dreaming because it still didn't make sense that Kyros was here, alive, and in his arms, asking for everything that Raslin had ever wanted to give him. "Then you're not in trouble." Raslin paused, considering, then added, "But you have to tell your mother."

Kyros laughed, and Raslin dragged him close for another kiss, wanting to taste the flavor of Kyros' kiss more than he wanted to breathe.

Fin

Sasha L. Miller spends most of her time writing, reading, or playing with all things website design. She loves telling stories, especially romance, because there’s nothing better than giving people their happily ever afters. When not writing, she spends time cooking, harassing her roommates, and playing with her cats.