Page 43 of A Suitable Stray

“You should be like Po and tell me I’m not your mess to clean up,” Tiiran insisted. “I shouldn’t have to ask how basic things are done.”

“She worries about him too,” Nikoly added, speaking only to Orin again, apparently.

“Po’s a very good spy, should you have ever need one,” Orin informed him in return. “Our eyes-and-ears for just Tiiran.” Then he lifted a hand, turning to Tiiran. “We worry. You might be a spiky cat or an angry bee, but only because… a noble’s fucking Head of House came after you with a mop handle. So we worry.”

Orin’s rare open anger silenced Tiiran’s embarrassed protest.

“You are a force, Tiiran,” Nikoly tried to appease him. “When I came here, I’d never been this far from home and I was a little overwhelmed.” Tiiran had seen no sign of that, but he hadn’t wanted to get close to Nikoly then, so of course he wouldn’t have. Tiiran should have helped him more, although Nikoly didn’t appear to hold a grudge. His gaze was as bright as ever. “But it didn’t take me long to notice you were alone too.”

Gentle or not, the observation from Nikoly felt almost exactly like Orin asking one of his pointed questions.

“Oh.” Tiiran took a small bite of what remained of his biscuit so he had an excuse to look away. “If this is pity, I don’t need it just because I have no family. Or friends.”

“You have friends.” Orin’s reprimand had Tiiran’s back straight within the blink of an eye. Orin’s tone was dark. “Say it.”

Tiiran looked quickly to Nikoly, who was watching him with his lips parted and his eyes still bright. Tiiran couldn’t tell if this was a time when he was supposed to say, “Yes, Orin.” But he didn’t feel like saying it. He narrowed his eyes and whispered, “I have friends.” He shivered at the wave of warmth that meant Orin approved.

“I will make you say it every day if I must.”

At those words from Orin, Nikoly, watching Tiiran, took a slow, deep breath.

Tiiran, watching him in return, said it again, slower. “I have friends.”

“He can really make you.” Nikoly sounded as if he were parched. “I didn’t think you would consent to that from anyone.”

The burn in Tiiran’s cheeks meant a blush he could never possibly deny and that only made him hotter. “Orin isn’t anyone.”

“Kitten.”

Orin’s rasp made Nikoly drag his gaze away from Tiiran. “Andkitten?” Nikoly was almost breathless.

“Fits well in the palm of my hand,” Orin explained while Tiiran squirmed and made an embarrassing sound. “And on my lap,” Orin added thoughtfully.

“Orin.” Tiiran closed his eyes, hoping and not hoping that they were both watching him.

“Oh, I thought—” Nikoly stopped himself, then asked a question in a hard voice. “Does he like you to share this information about him?”

“With others?” Orin was smug, very smug, about something. “No. With you?” He paused, and Tiiran opened his eyes. Orin’s gaze was on him. “Yes, I think. It’s part of why he called you in here. He has a temper too, kitten. You two are not so different where it matters. You’ll both defend what you care for without thought for your own safety—even when you shouldn’t.”

“Is that a threat?” Nikoly demanded. He might have been trained to fight or be used to sparring with other nobles, but Tiiran didn’t think noble tomfoolery would be any sort of match for how the Outguard fought.

As if Orin was of the same opinion and unbothered by Nikoly’s hint of anger, he studied Nikoly with hot interest. “So theydidn’ttrain the wildness out of you—Tiiran said you told him you were wild as a boy.”

Nikoly startled visibly before settling back into a relaxed posture even though he was clearly anything but. Orin had embarrassed the sunflower while also exposing some of the training Nikoly had gone through.

Tiiran wanted Orin to keep doing it and felt vaguely ashamed of himself. He spoke gently to Nikoly. “Orin tangles people on purpose sometimes, so he can untangle them at his leisure.”

“People tangle themselves,” Orin corrected him. “Some people just like to be untangled, as you call it, by someone else. But… I don’t think they trained the wildness out of him. They just taught him to control it.” Nikoly twitched again. Orin’s voice was even and yet Tiiran thought he was very, very pleased. “Tiiran, did you befriend another snarling cat? No.” Orin answered himself before Tiiran could try. “Look how politely he sits there even after I picked at him. Not a cat. A well-trained pup more like… if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Tiiran would have been furious… and squirming. He wondered if Nikoly was squirming inside, or furious, or neither. If he was blushing. If he wanted Orin to keep untangling him.

Then Tiiran wondered what he ought to do if that happened, and Orin got Nikoly wide-eyed and breathless and panting, unable to even summon a dazzling smile that wouldn’t have mattered anyway because Orin certainly wouldn’t have been fooled by it.

But Orin turned his head to find Tiiran, one brow raised in question.

Tiiran glared at him reflexively. Orin only stared back, as if to remind Tiiran that he had wanted this and had called Nikoly here to meet him.

Tiiran set his cup onto the table, tossing the last bit of biscuit next to it. Orin continued to wait. Nikoly as well, turning to Tiiran with an expression Tiiran couldn’t read.

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