hate poor scholarship kids at all then, it had just been Tor. Well…
Good.
“So the bully that plagued my time at school and the most embarrassing moment of my life to date are linked?”
“Kind of. Worse, they’re both linked to me too. I'm responsible for most of the bad things that have happened to you in the last few years. Even the attacks from the Wards. Everything really.” He looked miserable about it, but Tor just shrugged.
“No debts between friends. Besides, while you should have fixed a few things, like the stuff with Maria, earlier, how could you have known about Dorgal? I mean he didn't come to you at the time and chat about it or anything, did he?”
Rolph blushed.
“Well…”
“Ahem? Well?” Tor stared and didn't hardly even blink at the man. “Well, what?”
The Prince hopped up and started pacing back and forth, it wasn't a comfortable thing, or even something that seemed playful or just to relive tension. Finally after about four minutes of this, which was spent in silence he sighed loudly and turned.
“Back then he asked me if I liked you, you know really liked, not just as friends? I didn't think much of it at the time, I mean, Dorg and I were buddies, and you're hot, so I figured he just wanted to know if he could take a shot at you, right? But I told him that I kind of did, so that, you know, he wouldn't bug you. I think maybe that was a mistake.” Rolph blushed a brilliant crimson color.
Tor nodded anyway. It was a lie. He didn't even have to read his friend to get that. He shook his head and groaned softly. Gods, well, this was coming out then, wasn't it? Less than fun. Well nothing for it then.
“You mean you told him that you really liked me, and were trying to move things along, because thought you loved me? Only you didn't make a move after that, because of the whole Maria thing, and then later because I was such a prude about anything sex related, especially with guys?”
Rolph turned white. It wasn't the combat rage white, just the kind that happened before you passed out, Tor thought.
“Um. Yes. Pretty much that one.” Looking down he nodded, going tense. “That’s about what happened.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense then. I…” Gods what to say? The truth, but would it be too hard to hear? Well, Rolph was tough and… really what else could he do?
“Look, I'm still the same way, about men, and really, I think I'm just kind of made that way. Denno talked about how hard he'd worked to get Burks into bed, but couldn't. If a man looking like him can't do that in three thousand years, then it's a pretty strong thing, right? I know I feel the same way about that. Sex with men just isn't… me. I don't think it ever will be. I… know it won't.”
Rolph looked ready to cry, damn it, which made Tor feel like a heel. He couldn't just close his eyes and pretend his friend was a girl? What kind of monster was he? Tor couldn't though, it really wasn't something he could do at all.
“Look, Rolph, it's just the sex part though, you get that right? I mean, you make my short list of people that I love and everything, so it's not that I don't have feelings for you, it's just that I can't, you know, do anything about it.”
No more words came out for a while.
“It's OK Tor. I… get it, you are who you are and part of that isn't really something you have control over. I'll deal. We can still be friends though, right? I mean… I haven't said anything because I just figured that if you knew you'd hate me, or be afraid or something. I…”
“Are my best and truest friend. Always. Don't ever doubt that.”
Silently, without speaking again, they climbed the stairs together. It was tense and uncomfortable. Dismal really. Tor did love his friend, but… just not the way he wanted him to. The failing was his, and always would be. The whole situation left a void in his middle, like maybe he'd lost his friend now.
Why couldn't anything ever be simple? For a second a flash of anger came over Tor and he wanted to punch a wall, he didn't, because that would have been wasted effort. It hurt that he'd caused his friend pain. So much that Tor felt it himself and probably would for a long time.
As they walked Rolph reached out and touched his arm gently, just to get him to stop.
“Well, awkward and all now, but here.” A rolled piece of paper with a red ribbon on it was produced with a small flourish from the inside of the Prince’s purple and black jacket.
“Your wedding gift. Late, I know…”
It was a land grant. For the Wildlands. All of them, nearly four thousand square miles. Tor blinked when he read the document and on the fifth time through he smiled.
“Thank you, but isn't that an awful lot?”
“Abbie told me to give it to you. She expects you to turn it into a forest you know. So why not? Right now it's just going to waste. Besides, this way you won't move off to Afrak on me or something. I… I know you don't want to hear it, but I kind of need you, even if we are just friends.”
Tor hugged him and hoped it wasn't cruel. Who handed out thousands of miles of land like that?
His friend. Obviously.
Everything stayed strained and Tor didn't see Ali or Karina for the next three days. Actually, after the second day everyone was gone suddenly, or busy. The only person around that didn't have anything to do was one Torrance Baker. Well, he did have a few things to do. Sitting on the bed in the room he and Ali shared, Tor made a new hand for Smythe of Westend. After all, he could now and he had cut off the last one. It seemed right to fix what he'd broken, even if it wasn't a perfect thing at all. It was very like a real hand, but it wasn’t one, after all.
It didn't take long to make, about six hours, since it was nearly just copy work. Then he made a hundred copies of that, and did a hundred left hands too, then did copies of Trice’s arm field and flipped it as well. That way if people needed a hand or arm, he could just give them one. Tor knew he needed to do legs, but decided he should really get with Smythe and give over the hand first, just to make sure it worked well for him.
Amazingly, he managed to find his way through the maze of the palace corridors, not being in any hurry, trying to stall just a little really, Tor looked for secret passages and doors in the walls. He knew they were there, some paintings swung out, for instance, and a few recessed wooden panels slid to the side to let people through. Nothing really jumped out at him in particular, not in the older looking section he found himself wondering, trying to find his sometimes boss.
The correct corridor would have escape his notice without a guide, being rather more narrow than the rest of them and hidden behind several twists of hallway and a large decorative screen that totally escaped his notice the last time Tor had come to visit led by the King. It was a nice thing, mint green and cream silk on a focus stone frame, so a new piece, obviously. Such materials hadn't been around more than a year or two so far. Still, without the yelling coming from behind it, Tor wouldn't have even thought to look at all.
“I'll fucking kill you Smythe!” The deep male voice cried, a loud thump coming not three seconds later, followed by some clattering.
Then the sounds got louder, until finally two struggling figures knocked the nice screen down and ended up laying on it. Smythe was indeed there, Tor noticed, happy to have found the man so easily. The large man on top of him was big. Huge really, and had a knife out that he was using both hands to try and drive into the older and smaller counselors throat.
Smythe was using both arms, his left hand and the stump of his right, to try and hold it back, but that wasn't working too well. The other man half roared, his look more than a bit vicious.
“Now I'll teach you to mind your manners you fucking spy!” The bigger fellow screamed.
Chapter Twelve
Tempted as he was to let the scene just play out, Tor knew that letting his boss die probably wouldn't look good when he applied for the next one. Instead he walked over carefully, trying not to slip on the silk and stone frame under his feet and simply slapped the knife out of the Counts hand. Or Duke or whatever the hell the giant
