Tributes

Chapter Fifty-Three

Knocking on someone's door was a polite thing to do. Helian taught him this. Tyreol had the right to walk into any room he wished, but that wasn't polite. Having the right and taking action on that right changed how people viewed a person. He could barge in without knocking, or he could knock and enter. 

That didn't change that there was a door between him and his tribute. 

Shoulders straight, head up, Tyreol rapped his knuckles against the wood, careful not to make it too loud or demanding and let himself in slowly. Slamming the door open was aggressive. Doing it slowly gave people a chance to adjust to a new presence in their space. 

Luke did not flinch or jump in surprise, nor did he smell scared by the action. Goal achieved! 

"Evening, Master," Luke greeted, standing up from his writing desk. None of the others were with him; most were in the main room eating dinner. From how a bowl sat on Luke's desk, Julia had provided him a meal, too. 

Julia was a passionate cook. The young woman treated the kitchen space in the rooms like her kingdom. The castle pantry was happy to send her ingredients and supplies. It put less strain on them if she took care of the tributes, making it easier to keep the human tributes away from anything that could harm them.  She often pulled Anna in to helping, much to the girl's annoyance. 

"That robe," Tyreol lifted an eyebrow as he took in what Luke wore. It was Helian's work, no doubt. It was more what the courts in the otherworlds used rather than his own, but it suited Luke. "You look good." 

Luke smiled warily but pleased that Tyreol approved. "Helian hoped you'd like it."

"He's hoping I update the court uniform to match that of the otherworld," Tyreol said, gesturing for Luke to turn around. The man swirled carefully, and the robes fluttered around him. A man of Chris's build would look strange in such an ethereal style, but his slender fae-touched tribute turned into a beauty. "It suits you very much. If all of my tributes were as handsome as you, I'd be tempted to let him." 

"I don't know. He knows how to dress all of us to your tastes."

Tyreol smiled, capturing Luke in a tight hug. He kissed Luke and breathed in his scent. Luke hugged back after a brief pause, pulling all his weight onto Tyreol. They stayed like that longer than usual, long enough that some reassurance rolled into Luke and Tyreol's fears of losing his tribute faded. He released Luke with another kiss on his forehead. 

Mine. 

"Are your ports still bothering you?" Tyreol asked. The bandages that ran up Luke's arms were fresh. The robes hid Luke's legs, so he didn't know if they were covered, too. 

Luke rubbed his covered arms, gripping his forearms with either hand to stop himself.  "They are burning, but not as much as before. The castle healer gave me some ointment. Helian is worried that one might be infected." 

Tyreol frowned but nodded in acceptance. "Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight? I did promise you could."

"I'm still allowed? I thought I wasn't meant to leave my room," Luke said hesitantly, looking at the ground with a blush on his face.

"That hasn't stopped the kids from visiting you," Tyreol smirked, standing up and sweeping Luke up bridal style and nuzzling him. "As long as you're with me, it's fine, Luke."  Luke wrapped his arms around Tyreol's shoulders and hid his face against Tyreol's shoulder, and his fingers curled into the folds of Tyreol's clothes. His tribute trembled and the emotions leaking from him mixed into a sticky mess. "No more being alone with nightmares."

"Thank you," Luke whispered, the emotions turning to relief. 

"If I had realised how bad your dreams were getting, I would have come," Tyreol said, unable to apologise, but not wanting the air to be filled with resentment. It was his fault that Luke had suffered from nightmares alone.