Chapter 19
Zo wasasleep in the morning when Hylas came to his door with the tea tray and peeked inside. He set down the tray and retreated quietly, feeling cheated not so much because he'd hoped for another morning of love-making—he'd been preparing to insist, for Zo's sake, that they take it easy that morning anyway—but because he'd wanted to tell Zo what he was planning to do that day. He hoped Zo would approve.
He didn't know that it would work. If Loukianos really was set on resigning and going back to Pheme, asking him for a salary wasn't going to be much use. So the first thing he needed to do was to determine whether Loukianos was serious.
That question was quickly answered once he reached the governor's mansion. There were several sea chests in the atrium of the house. Loukianos had already begun packing up his belongings.
"So have you sent your resignation to Pheme already?" Hylas asked, looking at the chests.
"What?" said Loukianos, rubbing his temple. He showed all the signs of a man who'd been out late the night before drinking. "No, not yet. Just preparing. I really am awfully sorry about this, my dear fellow. The way I told you about everything yesterday was … not decent. I wish you'd come out with us last night, I'd have got to talk to you more."
"I'm here now to talk to you," Hylas pointed out.
"You are, you are. It's very good of you. Let's sit down, shall we?"
He led the way into the official reception room of the mansion, the first time Hylas had ever been shown in there, as far as he could remember.
"Loukianos," he said when they were seated, "we're friends, and I want to be frank with you. I was surprised to learn you're planning to go back to Pheme, because you have not been acting like someone whose career is on the line. You gave me no indication, before yesterday, that the aqueduct was urgent for you—I knew it was urgent for the town, but that's a different thing. You've been—I've been strategizing with Mutari while you've been … what? What have you been doing?"
Loukianos waved a hand with a sad look. "She'd make a better governor than I do."
That was very much not the point. "She's doing a lot of work that you ought to be doing, is what I'm trying to say. And she doesn't get to be governor, no matter how good she'd be at it. She doesn't get to live in your mansion, she doesn't get paid by the Phemian government. She's using what power she has to help Tykanos because it's her home—you have a lot more power and you should be doing the same thing."
For a moment, Loukianos looked ready to become offended. Then he sagged back into his chair. "You're right, I … No, you're right."
Hylas pressed on: "The aqueduct absolutely is necessary, and Mutari and I have made progress—we still need permission from Tetum, but the other obstacles have been dealt with, and I have a workable design well underway. But there's more to be done with the town's water supply than just the aqueduct, and I have been doing some of it. If you'd write to Pheme and tell them the work that's been done so far, instead of preparing your resignation …"
Loukianos gave him a startled look. "But I didn't do any of that. I don't even know what you're talking about."
"I've mapped the island's water system," said Hylas patiently. "Yes, there was a map in the government office, it's very nice, but it was also very out of date. I've been having repairs made all over the town. I've pinpointed the problem at the new bath complex and think I know how to solve it. I haven't done anything at the fort yet, but only because …"
He paused as he realized how that sentence should finish. Only because I've been afraid to go to the fort to talk to them about it. He'd been avoiding contact with the fort as much as he could, ever since coming to the island—he hadn't even gone down to the fort when he needed men to help dig up the roads—without even thinking about why. But he knew why; it was because it reminded him too much of home.
That was no reason at all. The officers at the fort weren't going to look at him and see a failed man, a proscribed aristocrat, the way the Ariatan noblemen had. They would look at him and see an engineer. And they needed an engineer.
"The point is," he said, picking up the thread of the conversation as if he hadn't just had an epiphany, "I don't know what you think I've been doing all this time, but it hasn't been nothing. I've made real improvements in the town, I have more planned, and you should tell Pheme that."
"I should take credit for your work, you mean?"
"Absolutely. It's what you intended to do when you brought me here to build the aqueduct."
"Well, I—I mean …" Loukianos looked flustered.
"You more or less told me so yesterday," Hylas reminded him. "And I already knew it, anyway. It's why you haven't been paying me a salary."
"I just thought … it would be simpler … You haven't been lacking for money, have you?"
"This isn't recrimination, Loukianos. I understand what you were doing. I didn't question it when you first hired me, but my situation has changed, and I need a salary now."
"I'll see what I can—I don't know if?—"
"No, I wasn't asking you for it." He said it as if that wasn't precisely what he had come up here to do; but he'd thought of a better option. "I'm going down to the fort this afternoon to ask for a permanent post."
"Oh, but they don't just … I mean, you can't …"
"Maybe I can't. Maybe I'll need to write a letter in verse to somebody's mistress and go round all the tea houses dropping hints and hire a soothsayer to find somebody's illegitimate son—but actually I'm going to just walk in the door with a lot of maps and plans and make my case. I think it's worth a try. I want to stay on the island. I'm going to put a little effort into it."
Loukianos nodded. "Right." After a long silence, he said, "And what you're saying is, you think I should do the same."
"I do. If you want to stay. If you want to resign and leave Tykanos?—"
"Gods, I don't. I truly don't. You know—" He leaned forward in his chair. "I've been thinking of something. Prince Zoharaza."
"Oh?" said Hylas warily. "What about him?"
"Well, you know he was a hostage at King Nahazra's court. And I was wondering—would they want him back? Yes, you know—" He popped up from his seat and began pacing. "What if I sent him back? What if I turned him over to the Zashian crown? It might be a useful move. I doubt they'd be so ready to recall me to Pheme if I'd done a favour for the king of Zash." He whirled around to look excitedly at Hylas. "It's just the kind of thing I should be doing, isn't it?"
"What? No! It's the opposite of what you should be doing." Hylas stood up to face him. "Intriguing and backstabbing and acting like a … like a despot? No. You're going to do favours for the king of Zash? You think he was right to hold the son of one of his vassals hostage, so you're going to give him back? Loukianos. You're a government official from a republic. You uphold the laws of Pheme—you don't trade prisoners with a foreign king in hopes of some convoluted favour. Also …" He paused for breath. "Zo and I are lovers. Do not threaten him."
Loukianos's eyes had grown very wide. He took a step back from Hylas. "You. And Prince Zoharaza. Are?"
"A couple," said Hylas evenly. Distantly he registered that he wasn't even blushing. "Yes."
"Hylas, I had no idea! I didn't even know that you …" Loukianos gestured vaguely. "But Zoharaza? Immortal gods. I remember him from when he was just a boy, and they were already writing poems about him at the court. Pretty sedate poems—I mean, it was Sasia—but he definitely had admirers. And you and … Immortal gods. Congratulations! You must want to get him out of the Red Balconies."
"Loukianos …" If there was a stick in sight, the man could be trusted to get the wrong end of it. "I want to keep him safe. I want for you not to use him as a bargaining token with the Sasian crown."
"No, no, no—my dear friend, I will never do that. I swear to you on my life."
Hylas nodded and felt some of the tension relax in his jaw and his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so angry, and yet so confident that he could master the situation. Maybe when he had stood up to the chief engineer about that shitty cement in the dam above Koilas. This had felt a little bit like that.
After this, he was not going to have any problem with the naval officers.
"It would be better if you didn't use the name Prince Zoharaza too much in conversation," he added. "If you didn't talk too much about who he used to be. He goes by Zo, and he's a companion at the Red Balconies. His health is fragile, and it's a safe and comfortable place for him. I would not want him to have to leave."
Loukianos was still staring as if his eyes might fall out of his head, but he nodded.
Zo ate breakfast alone, furious with himself for oversleeping and missing one of his precious mornings with Hylas. His mood wasn't improved when Chrestos came tapping on his door with a guilty expression.
"Please don't hate me."
Zo groaned. "What did you say, and who did you say it to?"
"It wasn't me, it was Themi—I mean, I mean the only person I told was Captain Themistokles, and I forgot to mention it was a secret, because I thought he'd know, but he didn't realize and said something to Taris, thinking she already knew, and she told, well …"
"Well?"
"Well, everybody. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me."
"Mistress Aula knows?"
"No! No, everyone knows better than to tell her. I think everyone knows better than to tell her. But—but we're all really happy about it, Zo. We all love the aqueduct man and think you two are perfect for each other."
Zo was surprised to find it made him happy to hear that. He tried not to show it, because Chrestos had really been an ass, telling his patron and not mentioning that it was a secret. Hylas was going to find Captain Themistokles apologizing to him before the end of the day, Zo was sure, and would be confused and embarrassed by it.
"I'm glad you all approve," Zo said. "Just please don't let Mistress know—she's already annoyed enough with me."
"She might allow it, though, like she did with Pani and Menthe," Chrestos suggested hopefully.
"But did she find out about Pani and Menthe because everybody was gossiping about them and she was the last to know?"
"Er, no—she found out because they told her, I think, after they surprised her with the frescoes. Oh! I get it. You want to tell her yourself, at the right moment."
"Something like that," said Zo.
He went up to Mistress Aula's room after Chrestos left. She looked surprised to see him when she opened her door. She had a bowl of tea in her hand.
"Do you need something?" she asked.
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Well, come in." She held the door open.
He came inside, and they sat on the divan. The doors were open onto her balcony on the front of the house.
"That smells good," he said, indicating the tea. "Is it a new blend?"
"Yes, just something I'm trying out. Chamomile flowers, lavender buds, and a hint of cinnamon." She hesitated. "Here, have a taste and tell me what you think. I don't have another bowl." She passed him the one she was holding.
He took it and sipped. "Mmm. It's nice. Subtle."
"It's quite wholesome and doesn't keep you awake. I thought we could serve it in the evenings." She took the bowl back from him. "Well, what is it?"
"I'm sorry that I lost my temper with you yesterday."
"No, you're not," she said sourly. "You think I'm a harpy for not believing you're really ill. Theano's already come and set me straight about it, all right? I understand. I'm in the wrong. Just because you're not sick all the time doesn't mean it's an act."
Zo decided not to respond to that. He repeated himself calmly: "I'm sorry for losing my temper because I realize now that you weren't actually threatening me. You were just asking how we could make something of my being a prince. For the good of the house."
She looked at him and drew a breath as if about to speak, then closed her mouth. After a moment she opened it again: "I … I suppose I was thinking of telling everyone who you are, and I suppose if you have enemies … that might not be safe."
He made a rueful face. "That's the problem."
After a moment she said, "I understand why that made you angry. You don't need to apologize."
"I do want to help the house, though. Like the others. We all want the Red Balconies to thrive. I was thinking, if you wanted to throw out hints …"
"How do you mean?"
"Oh, you know. Tell one man one thing, another something else—make it all sound like secrets they must swear to keep … I don't mind cultivating a bit of mystique."
She looked thoughtful. "That could work. It might even be better than trying to tell everyone your whole story. It is a little far-fetched, after all."
"Exactly. Sometimes I'm not sure I believe it myself."
She laughed shortly. "That's very fair of you. I realize I haven't always been fair."
"Neither have I."
"I suppose you have your pride to consider. Being—well, a prince, and all that. On the subject of a patron …"
"I am working on that," he said automatically. "But …"
"Have you considered the aqueduct man?" she said before he could finish his thought.
"Have I … what?"
She went on quickly, as if this was something she'd given thought to: "I know the two of you are friends. And he certainly seems to pay attention to you in the evenings—if he'd been any other guest, I'd have said he was smitten, but he's awfully hard to read. Though you'll know better than I do.
"I just thought, if we could get him—you know, he's got quite a name on the island already. Everybody knows him, he's a friend of the governor's, chaperoned Mutari from the Peacock on a trip to Tetum, which means he's one of your sort, or the quartermaster would never have allowed that. It's good to have him as a tenant, but having him as a patron would be better."
"Interesting," said Zo. "Do you think so?"
"Well … I know he's not wealthy, but there are other things to consider. And to be honest, I like him better than Timon of Kos or Governor Loukianos."
"I'll see what I can do," said Zo.
"I'm glad the two of you found each other," said Menthe privately to Zo as they were setting up for the evening's guests. "I take back what I said about it being a bad idea to take up with someone living in the house. So long as you don't rush into these things …"
Zo laughed. "With Hylas? No fear of that."
The mood that night was as warm as the evening air. The guests remarked on it when they began arriving.
"How could we not be happy?" said Theano. "The weather is fine, the days are growing longer, and there is still light in the sky."
They were sitting out in the courtyard, the first time since the fall. Hylas had not come home yet, and a couple of Zo's regular guests had talked him into taking up his flute. He heard some shuffling around of the people on his left, and someone slipped in to sit beside him.
"I'd rather you put that pretty mouth to a different use, Your Highness," said a familiar voice, pitched low, but not really low enough.
Zo was proud of himself for not missing a note and finishing out the piece without glancing over at Timon. He finished playing and laid the flute in his lap to take a drink of wine.
"I heard an interesting tale about you at the Sunset Palace," said Timon.
Zo smiled blandly at him. "Oh yes?"
"Is it true you used to be a prince?"
"I didn't stop being one. It isn't an elected office."
"Hm. Not much of a prince, though, are you? Not a real prince."
"Oh, absolutely not, no. May I pour you some wine?" He picked up the wine pot, holding his sleeve delicately. "My homeland has been a vassal state of Zash for a century. We are proud of our lineage, but we have no real power."
Timon slurped his wine. He had an unnecessarily noisy way of drinking that irritated Zo. It was one of those things that would have been innocuous, could even have become endearing, if the man himself had been likeable. Instead it seemed almost sinister.
"What would your father the king think if he knew his royal son was whoring out his sweet ass to foreign cocks?"
Zo stared at him, for a moment too startled to respond. He could not—must not—look around to see who else in the courtyard had heard that. Timon had spoken at a normal volume, and there were other guests nearby.
"Timon," he said finally, "you and I have shared hours of pleasant conversation. I have entertained you, offered you attention, intimacy. We parted amicably. Why would you go out of your way to say something so hurtful to me?"
For a moment, gratifyingly, Timon was too wrong-footed to respond. Apparently sincerity was the last thing he had expected from Zo.
"You think we ‘parted amicably'?" Timon said petulantly. "You threw me over, you—you spat in my face as if you think you're not just a whore. This isn't Sasia, Your Highness."
"You needn't use any title, but the correct one, actually?—"
"I don't give a shit!" He was still enough in control that he had not raised his voice to a disruptive volume, and though other people around them might be hearing this, no one felt it necessary to intervene. "You tried to throw me over, and you don't get to do that. This isn't Sasia. You're not a prince here. Your tea house is falling down around your ears, and you think you can still choose who you say yes or no to?"
Zo was rattled, and he hated himself for it. He had felt safe for so long in his refuge at the Red Balconies that he had forgotten what it was like to be threatened, and this was a new kind of threat, overt and ugly.
"If you imagine I am friendless and desperate, you are very much mistaken." That was true, so why did the words sound hollow to Zo when he said them?
Cheerful raised voices from the other side of the courtyard drew Zo's attention, and he looked up to see that Hylas had just returned. The lamplight glowed in his hair, and surely he looked taller and more handsome than the last time Zo had seen him? Maybe it was just the way that he was smiling, so much at ease and at home in the Red Balconies courtyard. He waved at Zo.
And then he headed for the passage to their rooms. He was not staying.
"If I tell your mistress I'm ready to become your patron," Timon said, "there'll be nothing you can do about it. You'll be mine, Your Highness."
"That is not how it works," Zo said between clenched teeth.
He wished he could feel more sure that was true.
Of course Hylas couldn't stay and burn incense every night. He was making an effort to save money; he'd told Zo as much. But he had looked so happy, Zo had just assumed he was going to come and sit down with the other guests.
Mercifully, at this point a new arrival saw Zo's flute and begged in flowery terms for some music, which gave Zo an excuse to ignore Timon for a while. Timon sat there slurping his wine; Zo could feel the man's gaze on the side of his face. He launched into the longest piece he knew.
He stopped playing finally, exhausted, and registered that a hush had fallen over the guests. He didn't think it was related to his music. He looked up. Everyone seemed to be looking in the same direction, and he realized Hylas was back in the courtyard.
Hylas was standing just outside the circle of guests gathered around Zo, and in his hands he held a ring of rosemary branches woven into a garland.
Zo dropped his flute with a gasp.
"Eh?" said Timon, the last to catch on. "What?—"
Someone moved aside to let Hylas come into the circle. He looked a fraction less at ease than he had when Zo had glimpsed him returning to the house, but still, if you knew him, you could tell he was brimming with resolve, full of joy to be doing this.
"Zo," he said, "I would like to offer you this." He held out the garland.
There was no way Zo could have got to his feet, but he didn't need to because Hylas knelt in front of him. Zo took the garland and settled it on his head. There were gasps and cries of excitement from all around the courtyard. The scent of the rosemary was intoxicating.
Timon had started to shout something in protest—"How dare you?" and something about "a stuttering, red-haired bricklayer"—but the other guests shushed him. One of Zo's regulars began loudly reciting a famous poem about a mortal in love with a nymph who gets chosen as the consort of a god, a traditional piece for such situations, and someone else began loudly ribbing him for being unoriginal.
Hylas and Zo just sat at the centre of it all, smiling at one another.
Mistress Aula and Taris were clasping hands and bouncing up and down excitedly like little girls. Zo thought he heard Chrestos telling people that he'd "known it all along," whatever that meant. Ahmos came and discreetly escorted Timon out.
Hylas reached for Zo's hand and clasped it. "We could retire to your room," he said. "Couldn't we?"
"I guess we could. Let's."
Hylas picked up Zo's flute and helped him to his feet. Zo took his arm and leaned on it, doing his best to make it look elegant for their audience, but also really needing the support. Hylas, to Zo's surprise, turned to wave to the crowd before they left.
"That was perfect," Zo murmured as they exited the courtyard. "How are you so wonderful? My face hurts from smiling so much. I don't care if it's not real?—"
"It is real," said Hylas seriously. He stopped in the dark anteroom, turning to face Zo, both his hands warm on Zo's arms, steadying him. "I went down to the fort and presented a case for the navy appointing me chief engineer for the island. They agreed on the spot. I didn't expect that—I guess I was persuasive. I certainly felt as if I could have talked anyone into anything, if it was for your sake. It won't make me rich, but I don't think you need me to be rich. You'd only need a rich man if he was supporting a wife and a household as well as you. I don't need to do that. You … you are my household, Zo. If you—as long as you—want to be."
Zo wrapped his arms around Hylas and hugged him fiercely. He felt tears gathering in his eyes.
"Hylas, if you want … I'll leave the Red Balconies with you."
"All right," said Hylas easily, stroking Zo's back. "Where should we go? To the market? The beach?"
"No, I mean …" He wiped his eyes and looked up at Hylas, though he couldn't really see him in the dark. "I mean to live with you somewhere other than here."
"Oh. You'd do that, if I wanted?"
"I would. Gladly."
Zo felt Hylas draw a deep breath and let it out. "I thought you might. But do you want to?"
Zo hesitated.
"Because I don't want you to," Hylas said. "Not as long as you're happy here. If that should change … if you want to leave, we'll leave in an instant, together."
"You want to stay here. At the Red Balconies."
Hylas drew him closer. "I like it here. It's a good place for you. You get to see people without going out, to put your skills to use. You have your garden. Our garden. You have me next door. I do want to stay here, yes. On Tykanos, in this house. With you."
Zo rested his head on Hylas's shoulder, and the rosemary garland gave off a renewed burst of scent as the leaves were bruised.
"Let's go in to bed," he murmured.
"Yes, my prince," said Hylas.