Page 21 of Noble Charms

Now it was Aria’s turn—finally—to laugh. He straightened his robe, “Not likely, My Lord.”

Ellor’s eyes dropped from Aria’s eyes to his mouth. “I like when you call me that.”

Aria didn’t say they all do, and certainly didn’t think of Lord Noble Yves St. Clair—the only noble Aria had ever met that refused the title. Aria cleared the fog from his mind with a gentle huff and said, “You were coming up for tea. Remember?”

“Yes. Of course. Please, if you don’t mind. I take sugar with mine.”

Aria gestured for Ellor to sit at his small bistro set—wrought iron and hand-painted with little flowers on the legs. He’d found it on the street and done it up himself, and it was probably the nicest piece he owned. If it cost as much as it weighed, he had used treasure in his hands.

Ellor sat with his ankles crossed while Aria brewed the tea. Ellor took in the place—the wood-paneled ceiling, the sloping floors with many colorful rugs that were used to cover cracks and stains, and the large arched window that looked out onto the avenue six floors below. “This place is adorable.”

“My thanks,” said Aria.

“You live here alone?”

“Of course. There’s hardly room for a roommate.”

“Or a boyfriend, I suppose,” said Ellor. “Or a patron.”

Aria felt the color rise to his face yet again. “You could just ask if I’m attached.”

“Are you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t have…” He glanced from his collection of teacups—mix-matched, like everything else—to Ellor. “You know. If I had promised myself to someone else.”

Ellor smiled again. “I’m unattached as well.”

Aria tried not to blush any harder than he already was. “That’s surprising.”

“Why?”

The vision of Ellor as a dashing hero, standing on a precipice, wind flowing through his golden-red hair, accosted Aria yet again. “You seem nice.”

Ellor’s smile turned to a grin. “I am nice.”

Aria smiled back as he poured them each a cup. “Why are you unwed, then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I was waiting for something.” Aria fetched a few cubes of sugar—glad he had any, because he often went without—and approached the bistro table.

“Something?” Aria tilted his head as he placed the teacup before Ellor. “A matchmaker?”

“I suppose I was. Never suspected Timin would be that sort, though.”

It took Aria a moment, as he sipped from his cup, to understand Ellor’s meaning. He blinked a few times and said, “You’re flirting with me.”

Ellor ignored his tea, leaning over the table. “No. I’m propositioning you.”

Aria’s face fell. He placed his tea upon the saucer. “You seek an adame for your court, then.”

“I’m not here to buy you,” said Ellor, tone smooth, eyes arresting. Aria couldn’t look away as he said, “I’m here to sell myself. I’ve got money, certainly, but I also have a heart, and I’d like to offer it to you.”

Aria’s flush came back with a vengeance. “What do you mean by⁠—"

“There’s a gala at the week’s end. Will you join me?”

Aria’s fingers danced on the edge of the table, nervous. “I work most days.”

“I care not what day I see you, then. I just would like to see you.”