Page 55 of Brave Truth

Tiberius hesitated, then reached out one hand. Felt he could, that was something worth paying attention to, just touching Claudio’s forearm. Lightly, as if it might shatter something, but touching. Also not a thing their family did, or had done. When he spoke, he sounded utterly earnest. “Father. I’m not upset. But I don’t know what I don’t know. I don’t know what might come up. Or what you want from me.”

“Right.” Claudio rubbed his face with his other hand, trying to weave enough bits together to keep this organised. “If people ask you about it, I’d prefer if you put them off, at least for right now. But I trust you to judge the situation, all right? And I’ll have a word with your people here before I go.” Then, one more breath. “His name’s Matthew Lawson, a bit younger than me. Cammie’s year, but in Boar House. He’s the one who’s been running the Materia meetings, the weekly ones. He had a bad turn after one. I saw him to his usual pub and people he knew. We started out by having a drink, then— well.”

Claudio watched Tiberius’s face for a moment, then realised that doing so might be the wrong thing. Intimidating or off-putting or something of that kind. He tried to do what Thesan would do, which meant looking, and then looking away, making it a soft gaze that took in the space. Both he and Tiberius knew that from duelling, knew what it meant.

Tiberius held up his hand. “I don’t need, um. Specifics? But enough that you’re sure this is something other than friendship.”

“Oh, yes. We’re sure about that.” He could feel the smile on his face, and perhaps that was the thing that had given him away in the first place. He couldn’t stop his fondness from showing. His softening, in some particular way, despite the demands of the world. “The timing’s complicated by the Challenge. If it goes one way, I’m going to stop being a private person. You know that far better than most.” He let out a small huff of breath “Anyway, we’ve not done anything visible in public, except come out of a pub with a certain quiet reputation together. Apparently, that’s enough.”

That had been the horrid part. That it hadn’t even been anything they’d done in public. If they’d actually slipped that way, he could blame himself properly for the problem. There’d be something to take on, to fight, to unpick into nothingness. This was all whispers and assumptions. It would have been slander, except it was actually true. Now he was just tired. Individual people could be wonderful. People en masse could be awful. And he was sworn to help those same people, with any luck twice over by the end of August.

Tiberius must have realised something in there, because his next question had an edge to it, an urgency. “Are you all right? Is he all right?”

“Thank you for asking.” Claudio absolutely hadn’t been sure that was what would come out early in this conversation. Mother hadn’t asked, after all. Orion and Gabe had checked on him, but they hadn’t fussed. Of course he wasn’t all right. Talking about that part wouldn’t help anything. But Tiberius had asked. “We’re having supper with Orion and Hypatia and Cammie and one of the Council— Mary Sprite. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Matty yet, not in person.”

He could see Tiberius make a note of the nickname. They weren’t a family who used them. The nickname and the way Claudio’s voice curled around the name. He’d have to chat with Alexander about that sometime. About the shapes different names took on the tongue when there was fondness woven through them.

“Magistra Sprite?” Tiberius raised an eyebrow. He knew the name, of course. And Claudio knew the overview of her profile. But she had been keeping rather much to herself since her own Challenge. Last night she’d apparently invited herself to the conversation that Alexander, Gabe, and Orion had in the aftermath of Gabe defanging some of the nastier parts of the gossip. With good whiskey and a great deal of good humour and care. Also, anger at his mother, which, well, Claudio couldn’t argue with.

He could give Tiberius at least a bit of an explanation in some sort of coherent order. “Three of the others— I’m not going to name them now, but I know who— were gossiping before the meeting last night. Mary heard the whole thing. Gabe heard most of it. Mother heard the last bit, which made it clear they were talking about me and Matty.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Tiberius pressed the issue.

Claudio let out a breath. “I hope we’re going to be all right. It’s asking a lot of him to deal with this. I wouldn’t blame him if he decided he didn’t want to. We talked about it. We’ve talked about it multiple times. The consequences for both of us. But it’s one thing to talk about it and another to be in the middle of it.”

“Father.” Tiberius pitched his voice properly, a bit of weight behind it. “What about you?” Claudio hadn’t expected this, not at all, and Tiberius went on insistently. “How are you? What would help? What do you—” His voice caught for a second but he went through with it. “What do you want out of this?”

There was something there, visible on the surface but also much deeper. Roots tangling down to the centre of the world, an insistence that would outlast lifetime after lifetime. It made Claudio so proud that Tiberius felt it, knew it, claimed it, let it show. And ashamed that this was why. He shouldn’t need to defend his father. Claudio should have handled it better.

It deserved a proper response, a true one. Claudio took a breath, shaping his voice to stay gentle. It was a reach, but it wasn’t quite a lie. “I’m not used to wanting things.” Then he went on before Tiberius could ask about it. “I have found myself enjoying my time with Matty. In meetings, in the pub, in his flat. I’ve not brought him home for obvious reasons.” Mother. “Wide-ranging conversations, not having to guard myself. He understands there are things I can’t talk about, things I won’t talk about, confidences. But also that leaves a lot we can.”

He looked up to meet Tiberius’s gaze, and he knew he was smiling. He hadn’t been able to hide that, either.

“When did it start? The talking and the— whatever it is you’re doing?” Ah, there was the rub. And the part Claudio felt especially sharp about.

“The first time we went to the pub was March seventh. The first time I said I might—” Claudio’s voice caught. “Whatever it is we’re doing. That was the middle of May, the sixteenth. I didn’t know then if I just wanted more time talking in private, or if I might be open to something more. And then a week later, we were more sure about that, both of us.” He lifted his fingers. “That’s private, and also it’s tender. The sort of thing I might tell you eventually, when it’s settled and I can laugh at myself about it a bit more.”

“Um.” Tiberius faltered for a moment. “I don’t want to be rude, Father.”

It was one of those moments Gabe had talked about. And Gabe’s father, too, when he knew what was needed, it just needed doing. There was all the weight here, but also the trust, and Claudio would do anything to avoid shattering it. “I’d rather you asked. You.”

Tiberius nodded once, then asked, “Have you been interested in other men before? Even if you didn’t do anything about it?”

It was the logical question, and one Claudio had more or less worked up an answer to this morning. He could feel himself smiling again, because it was Orion and Matty, and the ways they were the same and different. All of it had a warmth he wanted to lose himself in. “I knew people gossiped about me and Orion. But never him, like that. Turns out, someone a bit like him? The way Orion goes at the world, though. I’d never really. We’re back to not wanting things. Not thinking I could.” He added after a tiny pause. “I’d like to spare you that. Not wanting. Like setting up your apprenticeship with something you chose. And that seems to suit?” His voice rose at the end, a little uncertain again.

“Suits very well, thank you.” That much was apparently simple in this conversation. It was good that something was. “I’ve so much to learn yet, but I’m starting to see how it all fits together, and it’s wonderful.”

“I never really considered it as an option until a few years ago— right at the end of the war— when I met men who’ve been together for decades. I don’t know why— well, I’ve some theories— but I’d never really thought about it. And then the Penelopes, well, gossip there is accurate enough, a wide range of preferences. Most of them keep it quiet, but, well.” Claudio shrugged. “More examples of the ways things can work.”

“Two more questions.” Good. Tiberius had come up with more. That meant he was thinking, not just reacting. “When would you have told me if the gossip hadn’t?”

“Good question.” Claudio watched Tiberius for twenty seconds. “I’d like to think I’d have said something within the next month. Whether or not Matty was at the Challenge, I’d have wanted him to be at whatever was after. Celebration, commiseration.”

Tiberius ventured carefully. “You think it’s going to be the first. Why’s Grandmother so annoyed, then?”

“That, now, that’s a longer answer than we’ve got time for today. The sort of thing that takes hours, and I’d have to talk around some pieces. And I don’t want to burden you with having to keep things from her.” Claudio shrugged, looking away from the table and blinking once or twice. “As to why celebration, we have some theories about it. Not well tested. But that now is good. But it’s theory, not something proven, so we might be wrong.”

Tiberius was quiet for twenty seconds, but when he spoke, he was resolute. “I know how to keep Grandmother on the reasonable topics. Besides, I can get away with things you can’t.” That was true enough. Mother gave him space Claudio had never known. “Right. Last current question. Do they know? Other people? The professors?” Of course he meant Thesan and Isembard there. “Penelope Edgarton? I assume Uncle Orion?”