Cross Purposes (Chronicles of Ylandre, Book 5) Read Online Free Page A

many old establishments, plumbing was primitive. There were three rudimentary bathing rooms on the ground floor—water was brought in daily from the public spigots outside. There was no indoor commode, only an outhouse in back of the building. However the owner did provide washbasins and chamber pots in every room. Which is more than we could have expected had we been forced to stay in the south district , Tristen concluded.
    Nearing the room, he noticed the door was not completely closed. That meant Veare had not latched it. Tristen shook his head over his brother’s carelessness. He pushed the door open and strode in.
    “I’m back, Ve…” He stopped and gaped.
    Veare was seated on his bed, a book in hand, and by his side, his head on Veare’s lap and one arm draped across his legs, was Keosqe Deilen. Clad only in a jerkin, close fitting shirt and long breeches, he hardly looked the part of a young lord and even less a cousin to the Ardan Rohyr Essendri, Ylandre’s sovereign. Tristen spotted a pair of fine leather boots on the floor beside Veare’s shoes, while a costly tunic had been flung across his bed. He closed the door without taking his eyes off his brother and their unexpected visitor, who appeared to be fast asleep.
    “I thought he was away?” he blurted, looking from Keosqe to Veare.
    “He just arrived,” Veare replied. “Indeed, he came straight here from his house when the staff informed him we passed by.”
    “I reprimanded them for turning you away.”
    Tristen started when Keosqe raised his head to look at him. He regarded the noble with some irritation.
    “Why did you do that?” he tartly asked. “They were only doing their duty.”
    “But they also know Veare is a very dear friend and that he always stays at the house whenever he’s in Rikara,” Keosqe said.
    He sat up and swung his long legs off the bed.
    “Well, that’s just fine when you’re in residence,” Tristen pointed out. “Otherwise… I’m sorry, Keosqe- dyhar , but I really don’t think it proper to impose on an absentee host.”
    Keosqe gazed at him from under slightly lowered lids. For some reason, the searching look brought on a rush of heat into Tristen’s cheeks. He wondered how red his face was and scowled at being made to blush.
    “It’s never an imposition if it’s Veare,” Keosqe said at length, standing up. “Or you.” Tristen wondered if he was an afterthought and bristled a little at the idea. “I do understand your discomfort, Tris. However you should set your reservations aside when it’s I you’re dealing with.”
    He suddenly grinned. The sight had a surprising effect on Tristen. The noble had always been a prime example of physical attractiveness, but Tristen did not remember being blindsided by his beauty before. He groaned inwardly as he felt his face turn hot once more.
    “He’s grown some since I last saw him,” Keosqe remarked to Veare as the latter also got to his feet. “And filled out, too. But he’s still not as tall or well-built as you. It’s rather hard to believe you’re brothers.”
    Tristen scowled. “I know I’m not as comely as Veare, but you don’t have to be so rude to say it in front of me!” he huffed.
    “Who said you aren’t?” Keosqe asked.
    That startled Tristen into momentary speechlessness. “Um, I’ve heard people say so,” he muttered.
    “They must be very poor of sight, then.”
    Veare beamed. “There, see? I told you not to pay them any mind. Surely Kes is a better judge of beauty than those fools.”
    Tristen rolled his eyes. Oh, he was sure Keosqe was a veritable connoisseur if one were to believe Veare’s tales of his conquests. Then again, with looks like his, Tristen doubted Keosqe would have trouble luring any Deir he desired into his lair. Who could possibly resist his compelling violet eyes, silky pale-gold hair, sensuous mouth and swoon-worthy body?
    That last train of thought filled him with horror. What in Aisen was he doing dwelling