By Chance Met by Eresse

nights.”
    Naeth closed his mouth and turned even redder. “I do not look like a cat,” he muttered.
    “I didn’t say you do,” Keiran countered. “Only that you remind me of that one particular cat.” He gestured to the barber to brush Naeth off. “Look for Ruomi Garvas,”
    he instructed. “He’ll take care of your fee.”
    Once the barber departed Naeth’s bedroom, Keiran headed for the wardrobe and flung open its doors. After a quick look around, he pulled out a biscuit-hued tunic and chestnut brown breeches and tossed them to Naeth.
    “Get dressed, kitten,” he instructed. “Then meet me in the blue parlor.” He turned and headed for the door, still talking all the while. “This afternoon, it’s off to the tailor with you and tomorrow morn the shoemaker and after that the glover and—”
    As his litany of schedules faded away into the distance, Naeth shook his head in some amazement. Keiran was so different from his brother in personality that, were it not for their facial similarities, one would think the older Arthanna son no blood relation but a winsome changeling.
    Cringing at the probability of a scolding should he keep Keiran waiting, Naeth hurriedly changed attire then barreled out the door. He slammed into someone, bounced off that someone’s hard, unmoving frame, and nearly fell on his backside. But he was caught by the waist and pulled upright and against whomever he had bumped into.
    The combined scents of herbaceous lavandra and woody oakmoss stirred a memory of a costly tunic faintly infused with the same seductive fragrance. Naeth gulped, stiffened, and hastily pulled away to look up into a pair of forest green eyes.
    “Unless there’s a fire in the house, I see no reason for such haste,” Reijir mildly rebuked.
    “Nay, it isn’t—I mean, he’s waiting—And he’ll scold me and I—”
    Reijir stopped the flow of Naeth’s stammered explanation by placing a finger on his lips. Naeth almost gasped at the familiarity of the gesture.
    “I assume you’re referring to my brother,” Reijir said.
    “Y-yes, Your Grace. I mean, Reijir- dyhar, ” Naeth quickly amended when the Herun gave him a pointed look. He also became conscious that he was still standing in the circle of Reijir’s arms. He did not know whether he wanted to escape them or stay put and that served to fluster him even more.
    Reijir gazed at him with an expression Naeth could not place. At length, the Herun removed his arms from around him and stepped back.
    “Keiran won’t scold you,” he said reassuringly. “In fact, he’ll likely keep you waiting a while. My brother isn’t known for punctuality, especially when something—or someone—distracts him along the way.”
    In spite of himself, Naeth felt a grin tug at his mouth. “Ruomi?” he ventured.
    “Who else? He caught Ruomi as we were exiting my study.” Reijir placed a hand on Naeth’s head and almost playfully ruffled his hair. “Keiran can be high-handed at times.
    But he’ll back off if you stand your ground. Except for that,” he said when Naeth ruefully touched the ends of his shortened locks where they neatly brushed his nape. “I trust he explained the reason for the new style?”
    “He did,” Naeth admitted. “I’m just not used to it yet.”
    “It suits you,” Reijir said, echoing his brother’s earlier compliment. “Indeed, I prefer it this way.” He suddenly slid a finger under Naeth’s chin and lifted it, compelling Naeth to look at him. His voice low and just this side of sultry, he murmured, “Keiran’s right.
    You remind me of my cat from way back. Especially your eyes.”
    Had his heart stopped beating right there and then, Naeth would not have been too surprised, so stunned was he by the impact of the Herun’s sheer beauty and uncommon impact on his senses.
    He fought for breath as he tried to overcome the spell of silence that seemed to have taken his tongue. He finally managed a nigh strangled, “Tha-that’s nice