This was too muddled, Basren thought. He couldn't offend one with offending the other, and as soon as Anis glared at him, he fell silent. It had been with her help that Alaras had become an interest for him at all, but now she was trying to take him away. He didn't know<i>why </i>her brother was such a better option that she was withdrawing her support, except that he was related to her and might report more on his doings--including if the child that resulted was from said brother or Sovele.<br/><br/>He realized if he wanted to keep Alaras, he was going to have to fight for him.<br/><br/>He didn't have to do so now, while neither Anis nor Sovele were in a good mood. He let them argue while he tried to fade into the background.<br/><br/>Perhaps Evren wouldn't arrive in time after all. If he could get Alaras to declare for him before then... All it would take was his asking, and Sovele's approval. Then Basren could be engaged, and there would be no easy way to break it without offending a good, noble family.<br/><br/>As Anis finally finished her say and left, Basren tried to find his moment, when he could reasonably slip down off the bed and slink away. But Sovele had hardly waited for the door to shut behind his wife before he rounded on him. He knew the blow as coming from the knots he could see forming in Sovele's shoulders when his back was turned. Instead of avoiding it, he held himself as still as he could.<br/><br/>It was a hard blow, and stung, but certainly not as hard as it could have been. It wasn't the back of his hand. He'd have a red mark and some swelling, but not a bruise. Basren reeled from it and brought himself back up, leaned over the covers and his hand to his face. He didn't dare contradict Sovele, or make excuses, or try to stay and wheedle some good feeling back.<br/><br/>His clothes were where Sovele had let them fall, on his side of the bed. He snatched them up, eyeing Sovele's feet near his face, and instead of dressing there, escaped to the antechamber. There was no mirror, so he had to pull on his clothes and smooth them out as best he could.<br/><br/>He never should have said anything. Of course Sovele was angry with him, and now Anis, too. There would be no more little hints and information from the queen, and the only redeeming factor left of the ploy was that Sovele still had the option of giving him a child. Sovele still wanted that. He was sure, or Sovele wouldn't have opposed Duke Evren so vehemently. So if he could continue to play this right...<br/><br/>His cheek throbbed. He'd have to ice it to reduce the red and hope it was gone by next morning.<br/><br/>It wasn't, quite. He looked in the mirror and saw the prickle of red on his cheekbone. He should have known better. He should have gone to Sovele after he'd met with Alaras, so that if anything had happened, Alaras wouldn't have the chance to see.<br/><br/>But in two nights there was a dinner, and then a tea the next day, and...<br/><br/>This was all if Alaras agreed. Basren gathered up the little leather folio he had where he'd stored the cards in carefully sorted stacks. If nothing else, he would be able to talk to Alaras about a schedule. And if that proved boring, he could walk Alaras through the garden. Basren was meant to meet him at the gates, but he'd stalled in front of the mirror, pinching his opposite cheek to try to even out the color, like that might disguise it. It helped only a little.<br/><br/>Finally, he gave it up and hurried out of the palace. When he saw that Alaras was already waiting for him there, he quickened his pace. How stupid, to have been the one to give the invitation and then to arrive later than his guest, and this their first real outing. Hopefully Alaras wouldn't be too upset at him. He had the green leaf necklace on prominent display, threaded under his collar and resting bright against the dark color of his jacket on his breast. Perhaps that could soothe a few ruffled feathers. He hadn't dared where it anywhere Sovele might see, which was any time he was in the palace.<br/><br/>"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," he said. He withdrew a large key from his pocket and it sparked in his hand as he brought it near the gate's lock. They were attuned to each other, an extra precaution. "I forgot my folio and had to run back for it."<br/><br/>He angled himself as best he could so that the mark was facing away from Alaras. With any luck, he wouldn't see it straight on. Basren already decided to sit adjacent to him at the table he'd had set up instead of across.<br/><br/>It was probably too soon to greet one another with a fond press of hands or kisses on the cheek. Basren favored him with a bow and a somewhat tight smile as he opened the gate and let him pass through it first, then closed and locked it behind himself.<br/><br/>"This way," he said, and took them along a path to the south section, as promised. Pointedly away from the statue as well.<br/><br/>When they arrived, Basren's shoulders finally relaxed. The south was dotted with fountains and looking pools, which were in turn hidden by careful arrangements and topiaries, giving anyone sitting at them a sort of privacy as long as they weren't being towered over. He'd had a table and tea with a meal set up near one such pool in a rectangle of white marble. The placement of water plants was very careful, their bright sprays of green and color contrasting with the still, dark water.<br/><br/>Basren laid the folio on one corner of the table and went round to pull out the chair for Alaras, then shift it under him as he sat so he would be comfortable. Then he went to his own seat. A servant hovered nearby, just quite visible, in case they needed anything, but the tea pot had been made and left hot and steeped, the sandwich tray had been uncovered just as they came into view, and cake would arrive after, if they wanted it.<br/><br/>"How have you been settling here in court?" Basren said. "Did you enjoy the gala? I received so many invitation for the pair of us, I wasn't sure which you might actually like to attend. Or if you wanted to attend any at all...?"