The following day, Alistar and Anice awoke around the same time. He was shocked to find that he had turned over in the night and that they were now pressed up against one another like molten metal filling a mold, his front to her back as they lay there in the early morning quiet. Confusion held the fore of his mind, though he subconsciously marvelled at how comfortable he currently felt.
He had yet to regain his wits when she slowly blinked her eyes open, moving her hips with a tired frown and then reaching beneath the covers as if searching for a source of discomfort. Both of them froze as she grasped the cause with confused fingers, though before either of them could say a word of mortification, she punched him in the nose, scrambled out of bed and then hurried out of the room, forgetting her pillow in the process.
As he lay there with a stream of warm blood leaking down his face, Alistar was unsure of how to feel. Pulling the covers up and glancing at his lower body, he was just as or even more surprised than Anice had been. What’s going on? Why is it…? Healing his nose with a quick mending spell, he climbed out of bed and then stripped out of his pajamas, intent on washing his body before setting off to launder the blood from his bed covers. His arms moved as if on rusty hinges as he cleaned himself with dull movements, mind completely blank without the slightest bit of focus.
He was too out of sorts at the moment to attempt to wash his body with magic, so he returned to using the washrag that he’d rarely relied on in recent months. Staring down at his lower body that was still in an interesting state, he recalled reading about a specific reaction that supposedly took place around the area in question once a male reached a certain age, and if he recalled the purpose of this reaction correctly…
“I—I forgot my pillow,” came Anice’s meek voice, the door opening to reveal a face as red as her dishevelled hair.
They both froze, Alistar wanting to simply blink out of existence as Anice ran from the room after a long stint of still, eye-wandering silence.
“At least close the door!” he called after her, his face heating to new levels. He locked the door after closing it, taking a few moments to compose himself as he stood there in a daze.
Calm down, he told himself. Remember your meditations.
Taking a deep breath, he set about his usual morning routine with an absent mind. As he did so, he kept an eye on Alder’s aura and resolved to have a long, distinctive talk with the chamberlain at the man’s earliest convenience.
Later that day, after lessons with Tramon followed by a short visit with Mr. Herst and then several hours spent filling in for Elly in the kitchens, Alistar found a good opportunity to talk to Alder after sensing that the man had holed himself up in the library, a temporary habit that he’d formed in recent days.
The dark-haired, bright-eyed man had been happy for his company, though the sensitivity of the conversation had made things a bit awkward. Still, the chamberlain hadn’t hesitated to put things into context for Alistar, setting things straight in a matter of minutes.
“I guess you’re at that age now,” sighed Alder, who rolled a shoulder before throwing his arms up in an exaggerated stretch. “But if this happens again, make sure to remember what I told you. Your body reacted naturally, so it’s no fault of your own. The next time you find yourself alone with this friend that you mentioned, try not to be so nervous.” Frowning, he added, “but such things are better left for girls that you care about.”
Confused, Alistar said, “But I care about a lot of people. Isn’t that a bit vague?”
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“I mean romantically, you smartass.”
Laughing as the man flicked him on the forehead in reprimand, he said, “How do I know if I have those types of feelings?”
“Trust me, you’ll be painfully aware of it.” Alder closed the book that he had been reading and placed it on the desktop before he stood up and approached the door. “As a general rule, the more nervous and self-conscious a girl makes you, the more you like her in that way. If you’re still unsure, imagine her kissing another boy and your reaction will give you an answer.”
“Thanks Alder,” he said, following the man to the door. “I think I have a better understanding of such things now.”
“Glad to help.” Closing the door behind them as they walked out into the hallway, the chamberlain added, “Restraint is a quality of a good man. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to fall into similar situations with girls that you don’t have feelings for, but…” Lowering his voice, he continued, “If and when that happens, just remember what sort of people your relatives are, and why they are that way. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to grow up to be similar to, say, your uncle Daniel.”
Remembering what had happened to Elly in the kitchens the day before, Alistar gave a solemn nod.
A short while later as he helped a downcast, sleep-deprived Ramsey prepare dinner alongside two more gardeners-turned-cooks, he thought about all that Alder had told him and realized that he wasn’t simply attracted to Lessa, but that he had developed romantic feelings for her. After the events of the night before, he also suspected that he had similar feelings for Anice, though he wasn’t sure.
She was very soft, he thought absentmindedly, wincing as he cut into his finger while slicing potatoes with a sharp knife. The other men looked over at him with interest as he healed his wound, some without the absence of envy.
Alistar had spoken to Caedmon early that morning about what had happened with Elly, his uncle having responded with pride and approval at his decisive response to the scene he had walked in on. Alistar had been permitted to help with preparing the remainder of the meals for today and the following morning, but under the condition that he hid this fact from his uncles and cousins. Apparently his relatives were under the impression that fine chefs were currently charged with cooking their food, though thankfully some of the gardeners had been cooks in the past so the guests were satisfied in a seamless manner.
Despite the fact that he had helped with tonight’s cooking, Alistar was one of the first to arrive at the dining hall. Edmun and Calum had made it a habit to arrive just as the food was about to be served and to leave the moment that another person excused themselves from the table. Alistar, Anice and Lessa always followed suit, something that Caedmon usually encouraged.
This evening was the last that his relatives would be staying in the manor house, as the five of them planned to set off for their respective territories a short time after sunup. Because of this, tonight’s dinner was particularly lavish, a project that had taken Alistar much longer to participate in than he had previously anticipated.
“I can do it,” he said, smiling to a servant who was beginning to pile buttered, hot peas onto his plate. “Thank you, though.” Seeing that the young man—one of the gardeners that had been cooking in the kitchen—was shifting weight from one foot to another in a subtle, self-distracting motion, Alistar got the sense that the servant had to use the privy. “Your name was Jean, right? If you hurry to the privy, you can make it back before my uncles arrive.”
“I wouldn’t dare, milord.”
Jean was a temporary hire that usually worked for Lessa’s family, who was typically quite relaxed in manner. Now that he was tasked with cooking for and serving a table full of high nobility, he seemed very nervous.
“You didn’t take any breaks in the kitchens. Go on. It’ll be fine.”
“But the young lords…”
Edmun and Calum were doing a poor job of hiding their glares, being the only other two in the room aside from a couple of other male house servants.
“I’ll attend to my cousins for a time,” he said quietly, seizing the bowl of steaming peas from the man and taking up a mock-commanding tone. “Don’t make me order you, now.”
“Thank you, milord!”
Jean rushed off after a quiet, grateful whisper, disappearing from the room like a gust of wind.
Standing, Alistar approached the other Silverkin boys and then nodded at the bowl in his hands.
“Care for some peas, cousins?”
Edmun snorted and simply looked away. Calum, on the other hand, made to smack the bowl out of Alistar’s hands though failed when he did a casual pivot that saw the bowl extend just beyond the young noble’s reach.
“A shame,” he sighed, plucking a pea and tossing it into his mouth. “They’re quite good.”