For Tyrallin, the week following the charity party was long, irritating, and somehow extremely hollow. He just couldn't bring himself to enjoy the things he normally took so much pleasure in. His friends kept giving him worried looks and brief statements of encouragement, and at home his family seemed to have no idea how to interact with him. His classmates at first continued to try to pry the story out of him, but as he continued to deflect their questions, they slowly lost interest.

So, too, did the reporters seem to lose interest over time. They gradually dwindled, and eventually, when Friday morning rolled around, there were none.

However, as he came out of school Friday afternoon, they were back in force. It seemed there were suddenly more than ever before waiting outside his school for him. He hurried Sally and Feadri into the car and drove off, praying that they wouldn't also be at his house. However, his prayers were for naught because they were gathered there waiting for him.

"What's going on, Tyra?" Feadri asked before they got out of the car. "I thought they were giving up!"

"So did I," Tyra replied sharply. "Come on, let's hurry inside."

So together they rushed through the reporters, giving no comments, and made their way into the house.

"Dad!" Tyra shouted as soon as he closed the door. "What on Wyndrah is going on?"

Lissem came toward them, looking a bit frazzled. "Good to see you two made it in one piece! Those nasty reporters showed up soon after you left for school, and when I lost my patience, went out, and asked them why they were back to harass us, they gave me this." Lissem held up a glossy magazine whose pages were already crinkled.

It was a copy of the Wyndrah Celebrity.

Tyrallin frowned. "Why, though? What does that have to do with anything?"

"There's an interview with Elain Silvestri inside," Lissem said glumly, leafing through the magazine until he found the right page. "I'd like to spare you this, honey, but you'd better read it. I'm starting to get the impression that he was the one to lead you on."

Tyra heard the unhappiness in his father's voice and frowned in return. What the hell was going on? He dropped his backpack and took the opened magazine from his father and stormed into the living room. He was only vaguely aware that his father and brother hesitantly followed him and stood cautiously in the doorway to the living room.

He skimmed the article. Most of the questions seemed to be related to the nasty rumor regarding the charity money, which Tyrallin had read about earlier in the week. However, about midway through the interview, the questions changed.

--------------------

Aside from these difficult business matters, you also seem to be dealing with some rather intense personal problems at the moment. At the same charity event, you had a rather public fight with the young sire, Tyrallin Alwick. Is it true that you're in a relationship with him?

- First, I'd like to apologize to everyone who was present that evening and had to witness that unfortunate incident. It is true that I had certain connection to Tyrallin Alwick, but whatever relationship we had is finished.

So you were indeed conducting a relationship with him despite the fact that he's eighteen years old. Are you typically interested in sires that age?

- No, I'm not. This was a one-time mistake.

So I take it the relationship was never very serious?

- Yes. I would hardly call it a relationship at all. I know there have been rumors stating something different, but I can assure you and everyone reading this that those rumors are wildly exaggerating the truth.

-------------------------

At that point, Tyra couldn't read any more. He turned so that his back was to his father and brother because his eyes were starting to burn as the frustration and anger and disappointment welled up inside him to make one huge, nasty, roiling emotion in his gut. He wanted to hurl the magazine across the room or take it between his hands and rip it to shreds. Instead, he simply folded it and dropped it on the couch.

"I'll," Tyra started to say, but his throat closed up, and he had to clear it. "I'll be in my room. I have a big history project to finish tonight, and I don't have time for dinner."

"Tyrallin, honey," Lissem said, and Tyra turned back to him to see that he was coming forward with an outstretched hand.

He gently brushed that hand away and moved past his father. "I've got homework to do," he said simply. He went to the front hallway, scooped up his backpack, and went upstairs and shut his door.

Then he sat down on the edge of his bed, put his head in his hands, and let the angry tears fall silently.

~*~

Tyra buried himself in his room that Saturday and didn't even come down for the meals. Just as Lissem was getting really worried about his son getting sick from all the emotional stress, Tyra showed up Sunday morning for breakfast. He was looking pale, however, with dark circles under his eyes that indicated he hadn't been sleeping much.

"Good morning, darling!" Lissem greeted him with a warm smile. "I made pancakes, and you won't get up from the breakfast table until you've eaten at least two of them, you hear me?"

Tyra gave him one stiff nod without meeting his eyes and then sat down at the table without any argument. He pulled two pancakes onto his plate and began to butter them. His eyes felt heavy and tired, but he resisted rubbing at them. When he took the first bite of his pancakes, he could hardly taste a thing.

"Thanks for breakfast, dad," he mumbled between bites.

Lissem took a seat opposite him and poured himself a cup of tea. "Your sire took Feadri out to the new science exhibition, by the way, so it's just you and me today. I was hoping we could talk a bit."

Tyra paused in his chewing for a second before he continued and swallowed. "Whatever you want," he replied with a one-shouldered shrug before taking another bite.

Gently, Lissem took his son's free hand. "I don't want to pressure you, honey. But burying yourself in your room and brooding just isn't healthy. I want to help you."

"I came out," Tyra pointed out. He knew he was being difficult, but he couldn't seem to stop himself at the moment. "Besides, there's no point in staying up there. So don't worry about it. And you don't have to worry about me seeing Elain ever again. But it doesn't look like I'm going to be able to apologize. Elain blocked me from his email or deleted that account, and it looks like he discontinued the phone number I had for him." Tyra extracted his hand from his father's hands and continued eating his pancakes.

"Really? That's strange. But I'm really starting to think that you don't need to apologize. What he said in that interview was so incredibly cruel! I mean, you wouldn't be this upset if he didn't mean very much to you."

Tyra clenched his jaw so hard that it ached. "I thought he felt the same way, but I guess I was wrong." He put his fork down with a soft clink. "I know I'm grounded, but would it be okay if I went out with Jerrik today? He invited me to come watch his training session with Stonetown."

"I think so. But you have to call Jerrik to take you with him and bring you back later since your car is off limits for anything but trips to school and back. But maybe it'll help to get your mind off all those nasty things. You deserve someone who loves you as much as you love him." Lissem gave his son a kiss on the temple. "And you will find him, I know it."

Tyra briefly went stiff under Lissem's show of affection, but then he relaxed as if the fight had left him. "Thanks, dad," he said, and he got up to clear his dishes and put them in the sink. "I'll go give Jerrik a call now. The training is for four hours this afternoon, so I'll be gone for a while." He then gave his father a half-hearted little wave and left the kitchen.

Lissem's worried gaze followed him. He had never seen Tyra so crestfallen, so hurt, and it pained Lissem to see his beloved child like this. Lissem had been hoping for the past two years that Tyra would find a nice boyfriend soon, but this... it was so unfair and callous to do this to such a young sire.

Lissem wasn't the most patient lifebearer on Wyndrah, and he couldn't just watch and do nothing if anybody dared to hurt his children. But at the moment he could just hope that Tyra would come around on his own in time.

~*~

The following week passed slowly, and Tyra continued to follow his normal high school routine, and his father and the other members of his inner circle continued to watch him closely. Tyra socialized a little more freely now, but he was much subdued compared with the days before the scandal.

On Friday, two weeks after the charity party at the Velvet Shadow, Tyra received a letter from Dalling. He sat down on the couch to read it, expecting information about the architectural program, but what he found was completely unexpected. He leapt up from the couch and ran into the kitchen, where his father and sire were fixing dinner together.

"My scholarship is being reviewed!" he exclaimed. He slammed the letter down on the table. "They're saying they have to review it and take into consideration 'matters of personal conduct and possible moral conflicts with the standards and expectations of the university.' This is bullshit!"

"What?" Lissem nearly dropped the soup ladle. "They can't do that!"

Detrallin took the letter and carefully read it, his frown deepening with every moment. "Yes, they can do this, love, but I highly doubt that was their idea. I guess the university got some pressure from their sponsors."

Tyra put both hands into his spiked hair and hollered. "Oh my gods! I can't believe this is happening! All because of that incident I'm going to get reamed over and over? I fucked up, but I don't deserve this!" Tyra yelled again, letting loose a loud, wordless sound of aggravation, and stomped into the living room, where he shouted yet again.

Lissem wanted to go after him, but Detrallin gently held him back and shook his head. "Just let him get that out of his system, love. When he's calmed down, we can sit down and think about what we can do."

It was about ten or fifteen minutes later, and after several more frustrated shouts and pounding of helpless couch cushions, that a more subdued Tyra came into the kitchen.

He flopped into a chair at the kitchen table with a scowl on his face. "First step is calling the university and asking for more specifics about what they're reviewing, right?"

His parents nodded.

"After that, you should make an appointment with the head dean and go talk to him personally," Detrallin said. "I'll come with you."

"Okay," Tyra replied. "Is it too late to call today, do you think? It's after five o'clock on a Friday."

"You should try anyway, and if nobody's there, try again on Monday morning," Detrallin suggested. "Meanwhile you should browse through the university's web site and look up the exact conditions for reviewing a scholarship. It's best to be prepared."

Tyrallin picked up the phone from its place near the kitchen door and took the letter from the university as well. "I'll try to call right now and then hop on the web for a while before dinner." He left the kitchen to go conduct his business on the living room couch.

Detrallin turned to his spouse with a hard look in his eyes. "Don't worry, beloved. We'll get it straightened out. He will go to the college of his choice, and we'll get the scholarship straightened out." Detrallin sighed. "If things keep going this way and he keeps taking these blows and rolling with the punches like the pro he is, we might have to let up with the grounding sooner than planned."

"I agree. He's suffering enough as it is, and we have to help him in any way we can. But I would never have thought that this whole mess would drag this far. It's almost as if someone has a personal grudge against Tyra," Lissem remarked darkly. He already had a suspicion about who was behind all this, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Detrallin wrapped his arms around his bondmate and bent his head down to rest his cheek against Lissem's hair. "Seeing what he's going through reminds me to be grateful that I have you, Lissem. You and our family." Detrallin put a hand on Lissem's lower abdomen. briefly and then gave him an affectionate kiss.

"I know what you mean. But I can't be happy when I see my children suffering," Lissem said softly. "He's such a good, kind-hearted boy and doesn't deserve to be treated like this. I really wish he'd never gone to that damn club."

Detrallin sighed and gave Lissem a quick kiss on the shoulder. "I understand. And the pasta is about done. What do you say we focus on dinner for now and continue this discussion about how to handle Tyra afterward?"

"You're right. Nobody ever had any brilliant ideas on an empty stomach." Lissem sighed and went back to his cooking. "Can you take a look into the living room to see if Tyra's still on the phone?"

"Of course, beloved," Detrallin said, and he left the kitchen.

As Lissem started putting the finishing touches on dinner for the evening, he had just one clear thought in mind: He would have to pay a visit to Elain Silvestri and demand to know whether he had in fact used his position and influence to negatively affect Tyrallin's scholarship out of spite. He wasn't sure how he would be able to maintain his composure when facing the lifebearer who had broken his son's heart, but with Tyra's scholarship on the line, Lissem was determined to find a way.

~*~

Monday found the Alwick family in a grim mood. Tyra had indeed managed to reach Dalling on Friday afternoon, but the secretary on the other end of the line had been very vague and evasive about his questions. The university's web site had been equally uninformative with a lot of talk about tradition and responsibility, but there were no hard facts to work with. It seemed like the head dean could just decide on a whim who was proper enough to attend the university and who was not. But that was something Tyra's parents weren't about to accept.

So Detrallin grabbed the phone on Monday morning, calling the head dean's office to make an appointment. It took some patience and some sharp words until the snobby secretary agreed to even look at the head dean's datebook, but Detrallin finally managed to get an appointment for Thursday before he had to leave for work.

Meanwhile, Lissem pulled out his most conservative and businesslike suit out of his closet and prepared himself to storm the Velvet Shadow. He had no idea if he even had a chance of meeting with Elain, but his new membership card should help get him onto the premises.

He arrived at the Velvet Shadow in the early afternoon. There were no lines of waiting guests at the entrance and only one bouncer. Lissem showed him his new gold membership card. The awaited present from his mate had turned out to be two one-year memberships to the Velvet Shadow rather than a spa trip, and he'd been delighted with the present at the time, but since the charity party, Lissem wasn't very happy about it anymore.

~*~

Elain was in his office, trying to write polite and apologizing letters to the club members who still considered backing out of their membership. Since it was a grueling task, he was almost relieved when his phone rang.

It was Conroy. "Sir, I have one of our gold members here, asking for an appointment."

"Please send him to my office," Elain replied and mentally prepared himself for some more apologizing.

Across the long room of his office, the door opened and admitted a smartly dressed lifebearer. Elain was just about to rise to go shake his hand and offer him a seat on his leather couch, but then the lifebearer stepped into the light, and Elain recognized him from the charity party.

It was Lissem Alwick. He approached with grace, and he carried a leather-bound folder at his side. His features were expressionless. Lissem stopped in front of Elain's desk.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Silvestri," he said with little inflection in his words.

If Elain had known who exactly wanted to see him, he would have declined, but now it was too late.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Alwick. What can I do for you?" Elain asked politely.

Lissem sat in one of the stiff leather chairs and put his folder primly in his lap. "First of all, I'd like to know whether you're familiar with anyone of importance at Dalling University," Lissem said.

Elain raised an eyebrow. "Dalling University? If I recall correctly, some of the department deans are members here, but I only briefly met them. Would you care to explain why you want to know about this?"

Upon hearing of the connection, Lissem narrowed his eyes. "Actually, there's something I'd like you to explain, Mr. Silvestri." He pulled the letter about the scholarship review from his folder and rose to put it on Elain's desk. "My son's scholarship is suddenly in question. Now, I understand that the little scandal at the charity party was quite the public embarrassment, but there's no reason that a large university should take such a thing so far...at least not without some sort of outside pressure."

Elain took up the letter and read it. Dalling was a renowned university, and only the best of the best could get a full scholarship for it. A letter like this could easily mean the end for Tyrallin's education plans.

"I'm afraid I have no idea how this could happen, and if you think I have something to do with it, you're mistaken," Elain answered, giving Lissem the letter back. "Despite all those unfortunate events, I don't wish any harm upon your son."

Lissem stiffened, but he accepted the letter and replaced it in his folder. "You'll have to pardon me if I find your words less than credible. Who else could have done this? This sort of thing takes power and influence, both of which you have in spades."

Elain's eyes narrowed. "I would never stoop so low as to use my influence for petty revenge, Mr. Alwick. At the moment I have some severe problems myself with somebody wanting to discredit me and my club, and my guess is that the same person is behind it. If I could help you in any way, I would, but as you probably know, I have officially renounced any connection to your son."

Saying this to Lissem Alwick wasn't easy. Elain still felt incredibly bad for telling the interviewer such cold things, but it had been the only way — even if Elain had been lying through his teeth most of the time.

"I am already painfully aware of that little fact, thank you very much!" Lissem snapped. His skin was prickling, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising with his anger. "I suppose that this makes everything alright in your mind, doesn't it? It's fine to throw him to the wolves just as long as you can turn your back on the result and you don't have to see what happens next. Is that how it works, Mr. Silvestri? Whichever way it is, I just don't care. If you did this to my son, you're at fault. If someone who has it in for you did this to my son, it's still on your head."

"I know, and for that I'm sorry. But none of this would have happened if Tyrallin had told me the truth from the beginning. Finding it out like this..." Elain took a deep breath, trying very hard not to show his hurt. "Nevertheless, I can assure you that I intend to find out who's behind this, and then I'm sure the university won't have any reasons to rescind your son's scholarship."

Lissem felt his anger finally boil over. "How dare you, Mr. Silvestri? Honestly, how dare you? Not allowing Tyrallin to properly apologize was bad enough. Completely disavowing that you had a relationship with him was downright cruel. But to continue to lay the entire blame for the event at Tyrallin's feet is, is, is, well, it's outrageous, that's what it is! I'm having trouble believing that you're the adult and he's the teenager." Lissem took a sharp, steadying breath. "I want you to know that if this matter doesn't get cleared up, I will pursue whatever means necessary to make sure he gets his scholarship."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Alwick, but I'm afraid you don't understand. I really wish things were different, but I have the responsibility for this club, its members and its employees, regardless of any personal feelings. Do you really think this is what I wanted? If I could make it all undone, I would do so in an instant. But now we all have to do what we think is best." Elain was severely tempted to tell Lissem the whole truth about how he felt, but he couldn't do it. It was better this way, and if Tyrallin hated him now, he might forget Elain more easily.

"Well, I suppose on that point we agree, because I'd be happy to have this all undone. That way my son would never have gotten his heart crushed and thrown aside by a callous bastard like you." Lissem rose from his seat and took two gold membership cards from his folder and slammed them down on Elain's desk. "These were a recent gift from my bondmate. Please see that they're refunded."

Elain flinched at Lissem's words. Of course the other lifebearer was right, and it hurt even more because Elain knew very well that his behavior was absolutely despicable. But it was for the best in the long run, and if either of them ever wanted to go back to their normal lives, it was necessary to make a clean cut.

"Of course," Elain answered, trying hard to sound indifferent. "And even if you don't believe me: I'm sorry that Tyrallin has to suffer because of me. Please tell him... no, nevermind. Now if you excuse me, I have some work to do."

Lissem stared at Elain for a long moment. He thought for an instant that he'd seen genuine pain in the other lifebearer's eyes behind those expensive-looking glasses, but then the expression had vanished. The owner of the Velvet Shadow was an incredibly closed-off person from what Lissem could tell of him. How his open and vibrant son had ever managed to fall for someone like this, Lissem could only guess.

"Thank you for your time," Lissem responded, not because he meant it, but because he simply couldn't forget his manners.

He clutched his folder with a tight grip as he left the office. He would have to have a long talk with his bondmate when he got home.

Elain stared at the closing door, trying to get his composure back — and failing. Lissem Alwick's visit had firmly reminded Elain that he wasn't the victim here. On the contrary, he had done the same thing that had happened to him so often in the past — he had deliberately hurt Tyrallin. It didn't matter that this had been the right decision, that in the long run it was better for Tyrallin, too, not to get involved any further. And it wasn't truly the young sire's fault either since he just hadn't been able to see the consequences.

It was entirely Elain's fault for allowing it to come this far. Not only were his business and social standing at stake, but he might have also ruined Tyrallin's chance for a world-class education.

And why? Because deep down in his heart, Elain had wished for someone to fill the emptiness and loneliness in his life and finally help him escape this prison he had put himself in.

But that had been too much to ask.

With a tired gesture, Elain removed his glasses and put a hand over his burning eyes, desperately trying to hold back any tears. But he didn't succeed.

~*~

Wednesday evening of that same week, Marithia stood up from the desk in her office and gave her body a good long stretch. She picked up a small, wrapped box that was sitting on her desk. Then she turned out the lights and left her office, and she poked her head into her assistant's cubicle. "Hey, Kendra, can you keep an eye on things here for me and check in at the bar a couple times tonight? I'm out for the rest of the evening."

Kendra gave Marithia a brief wave without looking away from her computer screen. "Sure thing. I've got it covered."

Marithia left the first floor business area and headed for the disco floor. It was a slow night, even for a Wednesday, so she only had to glance over the bar in passing and share a few brief words with the bartenders on duty. From there she took the elevator and rode it up to the tenth floor. Once she reached it, she went to Elain's apartment door. She lifted a hand to knock, hesitated just a bit, and then rapped firmly on the door.

"Hey there, I've come to see the birthday boy!" Marithia said in a determinedly cheerful voice. She didn't receive an answer. "Will you let me in if I promise not to sing?"

"Come in!" Elain called out to her after a moment. The apartment was only dimly lit, but Marithia had no problem spotting Elain on the couch. He was wearing a loose sweater, comfortable pants, and no glasses, and his usually impeccable hair was slightly mussed. A bottle of liquor stood in the table in front of him, and Elain held a half-full glass in his hand.

He looked at her with glazed eyes. "Marithia?"

"Oh my gods, what's gotten into you?" she asked in amazement as she looked down and took in his uncharacteristic state of relaxation. She put the small wrapped gift on the table and picked up the bottle of liquor to examine it. "You've been drinking gin. A lot of it. Oh, please tell me you had a big dinner, Elain."

"Dinner? Is it that late already?" Elain asked, sounding slightly slurred. "I didn't notice."

Marithia shook her head slowly. "Elain Silvestri, you are a piece of work. Okay, here, give me the glass. That's it for you right now," she said as she held out her hand to receive the glass.

Elain looked back and forth between her and the glass for a moment before he gave it to her. "Why are you here?" he asked. "Am I not allowed to be drunk on my birthday?"

Marithia took the glass and finished the shot for him and then took the glass and bottle and went to the kitchen. She projected her voice so she could hear her next words. "I'm here to wish you a happy birthday, and you're already thoroughly drunk on your birthday, so whether it's allowed or not doesn't really matter." She came back to him and took off her shoes before climbing onto the couch next to him and sitting cross-legged. "I can't even remember the last time I saw you drunk, Elain."

Elain shot her a look. "Oh yes, you can, and so can I, and because of that I don't drink anymore. Today is an exception." He almost stumbled over that word.

"Oh. Oh! Oh, shit, that's right. Sorry for bringing it up," she said. She leaned against Elain and put her head on his shoulder. "Wanna talk?"

He sighed. "About what? That I'm totally at my wits' end? Or that I feel absolutely pathetic?"

"Either or both," Marithia responded. "Why not start by telling me what drove you to drink for the first time in decades? At least you have good taste. That's some expensive gin."

"What's money good for if I got drunk on something cheap?" Elain sighed again. "Lissem Alwick came to my office on Monday and told me that Tyra's scholarship is being reviewed. He suspected that I was behind it and chewed me out. And I deserved it."

Marithia gave a small shrug. "But Tyra lied to you. Big time. And you said you wouldn't put up with any more liars. And you certainly didn't do anything to his scholarship. So what's the problem, honey?"

"It's still my fault that he has these problems now," Elain answered. "And even if he lied to me, he doesn't deserve this. Forests, Marithia, he's practically still a child! I should have known better. Can I get my gin back?"

"Nope, but I'd be willing to get you a glass of coffee or water," she said primly. "And as for Tyra, he decided to play in an adult world with an adult, so don't you tell me he's a helpless, innocent sire. You aren't responsible for the entire world, you know."

Velvet came sauntering up to them then, and she hopped onto the couch opposite Marithia and curled up against Elain's hip.

Elain stroked her soft fur, feeling the warmth and comfort of his feline companion's presence. "I know. And I'm still mad at Tyrallin because he lied to me. But that was something between the two of us, and the media had no right to expatiate on it."

"The press just loves stuff like this," Marithia said. "But you'll be okay in the long run, won't you? Just give it some time, and life will return to normal. It always does."

"Yes. It always does." Elain stared into the darkness of his living room. "I'll concentrate on my work, meet with business partners, eat, sleep. Every day, for the next few hundred years."

Marithia angled her head awkwardly so she could pout up at him. "Ugh, when you put it that way, it makes me want to reach for the gin, too." She put her head back down to the more comfortable position. "Nah, what we need to do is find you some hobbies and interests besides work. And considering how fat your pocketbook is, you can afford some nice hobbies."

"Hobbies?" Elain snorted. "Like what? Golf? Tennis? Collecting expensive cars? No thanks."

"There are others!" Marithia insisted. "What about scuba diving? Or learn an instrument? Or crochet?"

Elain looked a bit horrified. "Me in swimming trunks? Never! Also, most hobbies require socializing, and you saw where it got me."

"Socializing doesn't necessarily mean dating, you know," Marithia pointed out. "I'd like it if you had more friends, Elain. I worry about you, you know, up here in this tower of yours."

That elicited a weak smile. "I have you, Marithia, and true friends are hard to come by. I'm grateful that you're this concerned, but I doubt going against my nature would make me any happier."

Marithia, feeling quite peeved at him, picked up a couch pillow and swatted his chest with it. "So figure out something that is in your nature!"

"Reading, spending quiet evenings, that sort of thing." Elain grabbed the expensive pillow to keep Marithia from abusing it any further and sighed again. "Problem is, I was perfectly content with my life before met Tyrallin. I... can't pretend nothing happened."

"Why not? Just give it time, and you'll settle into things again," Marithia reassured him. "It just takes time after a breakup. You know that."

"Yes, I know. But... it was never this bad. Damn it, Marithia, I miss him." Elain looked at her with sad eyes. "For a few weeks it was perfect, even if it was just an illusion. Maybe I just wanted to be lied to."

"Oh, Elain," Marithia said with a worried frown, and she took his face in her hands. "Why are you beating yourself up this badly, honey? It's not worth it. He's not worth it."

"I know, I know. But I just can't help myself. I'm sorry for being this whiney," Elain said softly, blinking away any tears that threatened to fall.

Marithia put her arms around Elain and rocked him gently. "So you're a wimpy drunk. Who cares? I'm the only one who'll ever know, and I promise to keep it a secret."

"Thanks..." Elain closed his eyes and leaned in her warm embrace. It was good to know that at least one person on Wyndrah really cared about him.

They sat like this for some time until Elain felt at bit better. He finally pulled back and rubbed his eyes, feeling a bit less drunk than before. "So, you brought me a present again? You know you don't have to," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You know, it gets repetitive, you saying that same thing year after year. Tell a girl something she doesn't know already," Marithia joked. She picked up the little box and handed it to him. "Here you go. Happy birthday, Elain."

Elain opened the pretty wrapping paper to find a small gift box, inside of which was a soft felt jewelry box. He lifted the lid to find a pair of silver cuff links, each with a tiny sapphire inlaid.

"Wait, here's the cool thing," Marithia said. She took the two cuff links and put them together like pieces of a puzzle. "Look! It's a kitty! And no one will know you're wearing silly cat cuff links but you."

Now Elain couldn't help but smile. "Only you could pick such a gift. I promise to wear them to the most austere occasions." He gave Marithia a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Thank you."

Marithia smiled. "Anytime. Now, how about I fix you some dinner? I don't want you falling asleep without doing something about all that alcohol running around in your system."

"I'm not really hungry, but eating something would be the sensible thing to do. But I'll be hangover tomorrow for sure." Elain rubbed over his eyes again. "Forests, how much gin did I drink?"

"Looked like half of the bottle to me," Marithia said with a wince. "Come on, you need to get up and drink some water while I cook." She got to her feet and took Elain by the arm to haul him up.

He managed to stand, albeit a bit unsteadily, and followed Marithia to the kitchen. There he took out a large bottle of mineral water from the fridge and gulped some of it down without bothering with a glass.

"What would you like for dinner, birthday boy?" Marithia asked as she started checking out the cabinets and the fridge. "Or maybe I should ask what do you even have that I can cook? I keep forgetting how bare you keep your kitchen."

"There should be risotto in the cupboard, and I'm sure there are some vegetables left," Elain answered, hesitating. "I think."

"There are some vegetables left." Marithia pulled a moldy onion out of the fridge. "I just don't think you want to eat them."

"That's because I was barely here for the last two weeks." Elain took a look into the fridge as well and pulled out some other items that were clearly past their expiration date. "Shouldn't we just call the chef and get him to send us something up?"

Marithia nodded woefully. "I liked the idea of cooking a birthday dinner, but I think sticking with the chef might be best."

Elain smiled slightly. "There will be plenty of birthdays when you can cook for me. Please be a dear and call the kitchen, will you?"

"Sure thing, boss!" Marithia responded, and she went into the living room to get the phone.

It didn't take long until the two were sitting at the dining table and tucking in to the delicious dinner the chef had sent up. Elain finally found some appetite and felt better with every bite. They didn't talk much, but the silent and comfortable companionability required no further conversation.

Marithia finally spoke up as they put down their forks and leaned back in their chairs with full bellies. "So, no crocheting?"

"No. But I could take up breeding cats. What do you think?" Elain managed a joke. "And if the dust has settled... I might do some bartending again. There's no excuse for getting rusty." That idea had already occurred to him although it would remind him of Tyrallin again. But if he ever wanted to get over with it, he had to face those little reminders.

Marithia grinned with delight. "Want to have some real fun and come tend bar on the first floor? I promise it's where all the excitement really at!"

"Maybe I'll do that," Elain answered. Marithia was right: life was going on. And it was time he stopped making himself miserable. It might take time, but if he didn't start now, it would take even longer.

Elain silently vowed to start anew as soon as he had recovered from the hangover that was sure to come the next morning.

To be continued...