Heart Fortune

Maybe he thought Jace wasn’t pleased to have been manipulated into coming, or maybe he had excruciatingly proper manners, or maybe he was snobbish, or maybe he didn’t like Jace. The world of rich nobles of high status was far different than the world Jace occupied. He wouldn’t fit in and he couldn’t guess the man’s motives.

“Merry meet,” said T’Hawthorn.

And, yeah, that ritual greeting wasn’t something Jace often had occasion to say. “Merry meet.” Again his gaze swept the landing area.

“Glyssa isn’t here. She is working hard in the library refining her report and the chapters of the novel she and you are writing, so she can present them to the panel of FirstLevel Librarians before the Field Trip Report Hearing tomorrow afternoon.”

That didn’t sound so good.

“And I scheduled this trip so that I might be able to talk to you first, before Glyssa, before her Family, and especially before Glyssa’s friends, my HeartMate Camellia and the priestess Tiana Mugwort, met you.”

“Um-hmm,” Jace said. For all his intensity and his rich clothes, T’Hawthorn wasn’t quite as tall as Jace himself and that surprised him a little.

T’Hawthorn looked up at Zem on Jace’s shoulder. “Like I said before, a very beautiful bird. Quite colorful.” He inclined his head to Zem. “Merrily meet, Zem.”

The man sure knew a lot about Jace, more than he felt comfortable with a stranger knowing, and just how much did he know? What had Glyssa told her best friends? Women she was closer to than Jace had ever been to anyone. What had she told GreatLord T’Hawthorn?

Jace was blind in this and didn’t like it.

Greetyou, GreatLord T’Hawthorn, Zem said, with exactly the same amount of mental Flair that he would use with Glyssa.

I am pleased to meet you, the GreatLord responded easily. With a tilt of his head, T’Hawthorn indicated an area where gliders were parked and began moving in that direction. Jace kept up and his mouth nearly watered as he saw a gleaming purple two-seated sport glider that had probably cost more than all the gilt he’d ever made in his life. “Nice.”

T’Hawthorn grinned as he patted the rounded front. “Yeah, my new toy. Not that I drive much.”

Jace’s mind just froze at the thought that the GreatLord had so expensive a vehicle just sitting around that he didn’t use often.

The lord lifted his door, slid in, then pressed a button that had the passenger side door lifting, too. Soft cushions covered in prime leather from something other than tough furrabeast cradled Jace’s ass.

T’Hawthorn thinned the windows and the top to nothing, then set off along the road toward the more populated portion of the city.

Jace had never ridden in a personal glider before, not even an old and lumbering Family glider as was mostly seen on the roads.

“Better enjoy this,” the lord said. “I don’t think you’ll like where we’re going.”

That wiped the smile off Jace’s face. Did T’Hawthorn Residence have a dungeon?

“Glyssa does know that I’m coming.” He’d checked their bond more often than he’d expected. Too bad they hadn’t had any really good sex dreams.

Throwing his head back and laughing made T’Hawthorn look almost approachable. When he finished, he gave Jace a quick glance, then set his gaze back on the not-very-busy road. “I am familiar with my wife’s schedule. You know my HeartMate owns and operates three teahouses, restaurants?” Pride lilted in the lord’s voice.

“Yes,” Jace said, though he wasn’t sure. He’d known about two, hadn’t he? Had Glyssa said something about a third that he hadn’t paid attention to? Probably. Which had him brooding about how much he should know about her friends and Family and Laev T’Hawthorn that he’d missed. His own damn fault, then, that he didn’t know Laev as well as Laev might know him.

“We are going to the newest, recently opened just before Glyssa left for the excavation. My wife is not there today, so I’ll be able to take a look at the place, judge the business and tea and food during our lunch, and we can talk in peace.”

“Oh.” That sounded like an entrepreneur, combining several goals into one trip.

A flash of white teeth from the GreatLord. “It’s called the Ladies’ Tearoom, specifically aimed at women. I expect to feel a little odd, so you might, too.”

“Great,” Jace said. The lord laughed again.

Jace repeated the word as they walked into a medium-sized room filled with round tables covered in pastel cloths with napkins folded in the shapes of flowers and delicate silverware and china on each table.

Every woman in the place turned to stare at them. The lord just smiled at them and stood casually, and Jace felt like he’d just emerged from a dirty mancave.

Druida City was a different world, all right.

Druida City of the nobles was hugely different.

And the Druida City of the Ladies’ Tearoom was something he’d never imagined, where he didn’t really want to be.

Twenty-five

I do not like this place. It is too fussy. I want OUT! Zem said.

T’Hawthorn coughed.

Reluctantly, Jace opened the door. I will miss you, he said privately to Zem. Please stay close.

There is a strip of park with a fountain across the street. Bath time! Zem sounded thrilled. With only a flip of a wing as good-bye, he soared away.

Dammit, Jace could have used his Fam’s advice. He closed the door and turned back to the room as they were led to a table. The place reminded him of his mother and how sweet she seemed on the outside and to other people, and how rotten she was to him when no one was watching. He wondered what she’d told the townfolk when she’d returned to the home containing the things she loved more than her husband and child, after she’d left them for dead. Didn’t matter. He’d started thinking about that time more often a decade ago, and didn’t like it.

“We were all having a very good time until you two gorgeous men walked in,” said a waitress, stopping at the table. “Now everyone is preening and watching you.” The newcomer laughed. “The manager won’t have to tell Camellia that you were here, she’ll hear as soon as a guest here scries her, and if that doesn’t happen, the gossip will hit her by tomorrow.”

The GreatLord set down the menu, rested his arms on the table, and steepled his fingers. “Tomorrow will be fine. In a half septhour, not so much. I have business.”

“Uh-huh,” said the waitress. “What can I get you?”

Jace glanced down at the menu, printed in very fancy script that he had trouble reading.

“I will have dark roast caff,” T’Hawthorn said. “I noticed that at the bottom of the menu you offered ‘a full Celtan tea for those who want a larger meal.’ That’s me.”

“Excellent, and you, sir?” The waitress turned to Jace.

“I’ll have that meal, too.” He thought about drink. Caff was the standard of the day in the camp, most bad, some good, if you knew the right person. He’d had some good tea with Glyssa, didn’t remember the name of it, but Camellia Darjeeling D’Hawthorn had provided it. He grinned at the waitress, handed the server his menu. “I’ll have the Darjeeling.”

She smiled back and T’Hawthorn narrowed his eyes. “Clever.”

“I can be,” Jace said.

“Have a good business discussion, my lords,” said the waitress. “Take any physical disagreements to The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon. The ladies might be delighted to see a fight—or might not—but, I assure you, Camellia would be displeased.”