Zarik listened as Dosan answered his question with so much information that the biqaj had to stop what he was doing. He let go of a folded shirt, setting it aside, and turned to lock his complete attention on the Lair crawler. His entire focus fixated on the reptilian-like Becomer.
Dosan used to work for the Duke of Lair, Detlev? Zarik knew of the man, he knew of his attitude, and of the many rumors and stories that surrounded him. He’d never met him. He wouldn’t want to. Yet the man before him had worked for a duke? And had been sent to spy on Alistair? …Now he was with Fridgar? The unease in his gut returned. Could Dosan be trusted? Though he spoke with sincerity, openness, and displayed nothing but a friendly demeanor… could he be acting as spy for one of the guilds?
He nodded slowly while the Quacian chuckled about… whatever it was. Zarik didn’t know what was so funny about Quacia’s disdain for foreigners. Until Dosan opened the window, sat on the frame, then explained plainly. Alistair had slept with Dosan…
…Zarik stared. The irises of his eyes turned vibrant shades of jade and emerald green, flecked with orange. He cleared his throat. From the sound of it, it’d been a long time ago. Maybe even before Cylus, for all he knew. He couldn’t fault his husband for sleeping with someone before they’d even met. Gods knew that’d be a lost cause, for there was bound to be many, many men trailed in Alistair’s past. Still, he felt annoyance at the reminder.
Despite his obvious eye colors, which could only hint to the other man of his emotions, he offered a thin and forced smile. His dark brows furrowed, however, when Dosan asked him what he hoped to gain. Zarik didn’t understand that.
“My… angle?” he asked in a confused manner. Zarik walked over and sat down on the other side of the window frame. He glanced over Marcovera, took a few short breaths. The color of his eyes cooled and returned to ice-blue hues.
“I wish to know who is within the limits of this town. I have sworn to protect these people. You are Quacian, the same as the guilds who attacked and attempted to slaughter those survivors who made it through the earlier Saltfetcher assault. The Marcoverans have been through so much and…” he looked over to make eye contact with Dosan. “I don’t know you, Dosan. Yes, I met you in Lair and you seemed helpful, friendly even, as you do now.”
“But you say you worked for Duke Detlev? And now you love Fridgar?” asked Zarik. He shook his head. His blond hair swished about the Mark of Faith on his forehead. It had cooled into a shimmering silver with specks of crimson but had stopped bleeding like before. “It makes little sense to me, I’m afraid. You know of my husband, in such an intimate way too. I…”
“But none of this is why I shared with you what I did,” answered Zarik. “If Fridgar is taking you along with him, to mentor you, and to fight and… whatever else because of your love and attachment for him, then it isn’t right for him to misinform you or even… lie."
"Perhaps he has merely not found the right time to tell you, but… it is better for you to know, I believe. So if you wish to be more than just mentor and mentee, you can know that it isn’t another man who stands in your way.”
“That is all,” concluded Zarik. He returned his gaze to look out the window. “How did you come to meet Fridgar, anyway? He hasn’t been in Quacia long.”
Dosan used to work for the Duke of Lair, Detlev? Zarik knew of the man, he knew of his attitude, and of the many rumors and stories that surrounded him. He’d never met him. He wouldn’t want to. Yet the man before him had worked for a duke? And had been sent to spy on Alistair? …Now he was with Fridgar? The unease in his gut returned. Could Dosan be trusted? Though he spoke with sincerity, openness, and displayed nothing but a friendly demeanor… could he be acting as spy for one of the guilds?
He nodded slowly while the Quacian chuckled about… whatever it was. Zarik didn’t know what was so funny about Quacia’s disdain for foreigners. Until Dosan opened the window, sat on the frame, then explained plainly. Alistair had slept with Dosan…
…Zarik stared. The irises of his eyes turned vibrant shades of jade and emerald green, flecked with orange. He cleared his throat. From the sound of it, it’d been a long time ago. Maybe even before Cylus, for all he knew. He couldn’t fault his husband for sleeping with someone before they’d even met. Gods knew that’d be a lost cause, for there was bound to be many, many men trailed in Alistair’s past. Still, he felt annoyance at the reminder.
Despite his obvious eye colors, which could only hint to the other man of his emotions, he offered a thin and forced smile. His dark brows furrowed, however, when Dosan asked him what he hoped to gain. Zarik didn’t understand that.
“My… angle?” he asked in a confused manner. Zarik walked over and sat down on the other side of the window frame. He glanced over Marcovera, took a few short breaths. The color of his eyes cooled and returned to ice-blue hues.
“I wish to know who is within the limits of this town. I have sworn to protect these people. You are Quacian, the same as the guilds who attacked and attempted to slaughter those survivors who made it through the earlier Saltfetcher assault. The Marcoverans have been through so much and…” he looked over to make eye contact with Dosan. “I don’t know you, Dosan. Yes, I met you in Lair and you seemed helpful, friendly even, as you do now.”
“But you say you worked for Duke Detlev? And now you love Fridgar?” asked Zarik. He shook his head. His blond hair swished about the Mark of Faith on his forehead. It had cooled into a shimmering silver with specks of crimson but had stopped bleeding like before. “It makes little sense to me, I’m afraid. You know of my husband, in such an intimate way too. I…”
“But none of this is why I shared with you what I did,” answered Zarik. “If Fridgar is taking you along with him, to mentor you, and to fight and… whatever else because of your love and attachment for him, then it isn’t right for him to misinform you or even… lie."
"Perhaps he has merely not found the right time to tell you, but… it is better for you to know, I believe. So if you wish to be more than just mentor and mentee, you can know that it isn’t another man who stands in your way.”
“That is all,” concluded Zarik. He returned his gaze to look out the window. “How did you come to meet Fridgar, anyway? He hasn’t been in Quacia long.”