“You wait here,” he told the egg, pulled it from under his shirt and placed it on the chair. He headed for the stairs, taking the steps three at a time, muscles burning when he reached the top. He steered straight for the large windows and slid one open. The garden outside was empty.
Wrapping an arm around the frame, he leaned out of the window and craned his neck to see onto the roof, but the angle was wrong. “Arrow?” he whispered sharply. He couldn’t risk calling out too loudly.
Everything was quiet.
Kalai stayed where he was, halfway out of the window, until his arm threatened to cramp. Stepping back, he slid the window closed and released a deep breath. It was likely just a big bird or a cat. It wasn’t like Arrow would know to look for him here.
A loud knock from below made Kalai flinch.
He hurried downstairs and opened the door, prepared for a guard with a whole slew of questions to meet him.
Instead, it was Tauran, leaning against the frame, blue eyes flicking up to meet Kalai’s at the swing of the door.
“Hi,” Kalai said, far more flustered than he ought to be. He ran a hand swiftly over his hair.
“Is everything all right?” Tauran asked, pushing away from the frame. He wore only a thin dress shirt in the evening heat, the sleeves rolled up to expose his toned forearms. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Kalai licked his lips, then pulled his tongue firmly back between his teeth. “Uh... I was upstairs. Taking a nap,” he lied.
“Oh. I’m sorry I disturbed you.” Tauran looked genuinely apologetic and took a step back. “I can come back.”
“No.” Kalai reached for him before he could think the action through. His fingers curled lightly around Tauran’s rather defined bicep. “Please, come in.”
Tauran smiled and came forward, stroking along Kalai’s shoulder as he stepped past him.
Kalai ignored the pleasant shiver rolling through him and buried his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers where they couldn’t betray him again.
“How’s she doing?” Tauran asked, strolling through the main room like he was already very comfortable there. His limp looked slightly worse today.
Kalai considered offering him the walking stick by the door, but kept quiet, in case it would offend him. “She?” Kalai asked, heading after him.
“Uh.” Tauran let out a quiet, nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “It. The egg.” A charming blush spread across his face.
Kalai allowed his gaze to linger for a moment before heading around the desk. “You think it’s a girl?” He picked up the egg and delicately placed it on the table.
“I don’t know,” Tauran said, looking suddenly smaller with his arms crossed protectively across his chest. There it was again. The insecurity in his voice, his eyes, his posture, whenever the topic turned to dragons. “Don’t listen to me.”
“No, it’s as good a guess as any.”
Tauran placed a too cautious hand on the egg. “Want me to take her off your hands for a bit?” His voice was hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to, himself.
“We can go upstairs,” Kalai said, wanting Tauran to feel at ease and trying hard not to make it sound like a lewd invitation at the same time. He didn’t know if he succeeded. “I can bring my work with me,” he added, to be on the safe side.
“Sounds like a plan.” Tauran hesitated for only a moment, then lifted the egg and held it against his chest.
* * *
“Listen to this.” Kalai sat cross-legged on top of the blankets with a fan of papers spread out before him. He picked one and read it aloud. “‘Day twenty-three of the second month of fall. I rose at dawn. Had two slices of redwheat bread for lunch. Took a nap. Dinner was bland. Went to bed at twenty-two hours.’” He raised an eyebrow and glared at Tauran.
Tauran chuckled, rearranging the pillow behind his back so he could slide down, father. The egg was in his lap, propped against his bent legs, covered by a thin blanket. A small voice in Tauran’s mind told him he shouldn’t be this comfortable, but it was easy to ignore. Something about Kalai made him relax. Kalai didn’t look at him with pity or concern. His eyes didn’t linger on his leg. “And the old archivist wrote them all?” he asked.
“Yep.” Kalai tapped the bottom of the page. “Signed, Archivist A. R-L.”