thankfully didn’t press further. As soon as she rounded the corner, Tauran spun in the direction of Lilypetal Street. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked with so much determination and so little leg pain. He knocked on the door to the archive. When Kalai opened, his face lit up in a smile, and Tauran could suddenly breathe again.
“Can I come in?”
Kalai’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?” He searched Tauran’s face.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Tauran stepped forward and kicked the door shut, unable to keep from wrapping his arms around Kalai and dragging him close. He closed his eyes and buried his face against the side of his neck. Kalai smelled faintly of soap and sweet voralis root.
Kalai seemed stunned for a moment, then raised his hand to the back of Tauran’s neck and gently stroked. “Okay. We don’t have to.”
Without even knowing it was exactly what Tauran needed, Kalai took him upstairs, led him to the bed, deposited the egg in his lap and a cup of tea in his hand, and settled down beside him. And finally, Tauran no longer thought about death and agony, but about Kalai’s elegant hands that were not only made for holding pens and quills, but for holding Tauran’s hands, too.
Tauran spent the rest of the day in Kalai’s bed with the egg in his lap, or on his belly, or wrapped in blankets against his side. Kalai brought his work upstairs so they could sit together and they talked about little things, easy things, like their favorite meals or silly things they believed as children. But mostly, Kalai read and wrote, and Tauran watched him in silence. Normally, Tauran detested silence, because it gave him time to think, and when he had time to think, he’d inevitably end up thinking about everything bad. But when he was around Kalai, those thoughts kept their distance. Instead, he thought about the way Kalai sucked in his cheeks and rolled his jaw when he struggled with a difficult sentence, or the way he flicked the pen against his knee when he lost his train of thought. Kalai’s skin was smooth and unmarked, except for that small freckle at the corner of his eye, just a single little dark spot that Tauran didn’t want to think too much about, in case the urge to lean up and place his lips there grew too strong to resist.
Kalai murmured the translations to himself before scribbling them down. His focus was admirable. Tauran didn’t recall ever spending longer than five minutes with his nose in a book before his head began to spin. “How many languages do you speak?”
“Just two. Three if you count the old Sharoani language,” Kalai said, without looking up. “And a bit of Iradesi, but I don’t think that counts.”
Tauran huffed out a smile. “I think it all sounds impressive. Do they teach Kykarosi in Sharoani schools?”
Kalai shook his head. There was a small dimple in the lobe of his ear. “I bought old Kykarosi books from traders and taught myself. I had a lot of tree time.”
Tauran whistled softly. Studying in school, then studying after school. Maybe if he spent enough time around Kalai, he could soak up some of that diligence. “You had your ears pierced?” He reached up and pressed his thumb against Kalai’s earlobe.
“Hm?” Kalai turned his head, making Tauran’s thumb graze the line of his jaw. He smiled. “Yeah, when I was younger.”
Tauran allowed his hand to linger before dropping it. “Why did you take them out?”
Kalai shrugged.. “I don’t remember. I probably just forgot to put them back in.” Kalai pointed the tip of his quill at the single golden earring Tauran wore. “Yours?”
Tauran huffed a smile, stretching like a cat under the blankets. “Had it done my first week in the Ground Guard. It was a recruit ritual at the time.”
“You were in the Ground Guard, too?” Kalai paused his work, resting his elbows on his bent legs to look at Tauran.
“Uh-huh.” Tauran pursed his lips, basking in the attention. “I was a wild thing. Seventeen years old and driving my poor mother crazy. I came to Valreus in search of something to do and ended up in the Ground Guard.” He chuckled. “Got myself kicked out four months later.”
Kalai put the quill down. “What? Why?”
“It was a stupid dare. I was a little shit who liked to boast that I wasn’t afraid of anything. I climbed the outside of the Solar Tower. Stood on the