Free Cross Purposes (Chronicles of Ylandre, Book 5) by Eresse Page B

the most exclusive enclave of homes in the district. Tristen wondered whether he could question Keosqe further, but decided to wait for the noble to open up in his own time. Obviously, the circumstances pertaining to the near betrothal had greatly affected him such that to this day he was uneasy with the Deir he had almost wed.
    “After I realized I would never have Veare, I tried to get on with my life,” Keosqe suddenly said. “Whatever my feelings, I had to do my duty. Wed, beget heirs, support my sire in his rule of Sidona … Rohyr hadn’t yet asked me to head a Ministry and so when I came to Rikara, I was free to do as I wished.” He smiled bitterly. “Actually, I had too much time on my hands. I couldn’t stop thinking about your brother and the few nights we’d shared. Needless to say, I was very lonely and in great need of assurance that I was desirable. I confess, Veare’s lack of interest in me other than as a friend hurt my pride as well.”
    “And your confidence?” Tristen softly asked.
    “That especially.” Keosqe’s smile faded. “It was then that I met Avasel. He’s from Glanthar and a baron’s heir too. He’d come to Rikara for a season. We oft crossed paths as a result and eventually became quite close.”
    How close? Tristen sourly wondered.
    His expression apparently betrayed his thoughts for Keosqe added, “He was the first Deir I bedded after Veare. I fear I left him unable to sit down comfortably for a day or two.”
    Tristen rolled his eyes. He had not needed to know that detail! “It must have been a relief to know your libido was still intact,” he muttered.
    “Actually, yes,” Keosqe unexpectedly replied. “I’d worried that perhaps my grief would render me unable to be intimate with others. That would have been disastrous for the perpetuation of my family’s line. Not to mention my personal well-being. Too much grief can erode a fellow’s soul.”
    About to say something snide, Tristen changed his mind and shut his mouth. Keosqe was right. He could remember the dark days after his parents’ passing. Missing them, yearning for one more greeting, one last touch, his father’s gentle eyes, his sire’s soft laughter. A half-year of such unrelenting sorrow had proved almost too much to bear. He could not imagine enduring the suffocating sadness for much longer than that.
    “You must have come to care for him very much,” he murmured.
    “I did,” Keosqe said. “But not the same way I care for Veare. I tried to feel more for him though. I wanted to, if only to rid myself of my longing.” He sighed. “But I couldn’t force myself to love him any more than Veare could make himself love me.”
    “Still, you proposed to him.”
    “Nay, it was he who broached the betrothal. Avasel thought I wanted marriage as much as he and, yes, I did. Except it was not with him much as I tried to make it so. My error lay in not being upfront with him about my misgivings. Instead I led him to believe that I’d agreed to it. It was unwitting on my part, but that’s no excuse for the humiliation it caused him.”
    “Humiliation?” Tristen caught his breath. “Oh.”
    Avasel must have announced they were affianced to family and friends. He could imagine the hurt and confusion that followed. Frankly, he preferred not to. Tristen did not like the thought of anyone being shamed before others especially if one had not done anything wrong to bring it upon one’s self. There was one puzzling point however.
    “Why couldn’t you wed him anyway?” he asked. “It isn’t as if our class marries for love alone. Indeed, love matches are the exception to the point, aren’t they? I mean, my parents were fond of each other, but I knew theirs was an arranged marriage.”
    Keosqe wanly smiled. “I didn’t decline to marry Avasel because I didn’t love him. Rather I didn’t care to make him suffer through unrequited love the way I had.”
    “He cared for you