The figure was distorted and discolored through the stained glass of the infirmary window, but to Seoc it was unmistakable. That long, slender body, with its eager, trotting step, like a bloodhound on a scent—yes, he knew that figure well. Smiling slightly, he followed Seymour’s progress on the grounds below with his eyes, no longer listening to whatever Mialina was saying.
Seoc had not thought that he would have been able to fall in love again, not after what had happened the last time. Yet here he was—the mere recognition of Seymour’s silhouette enough to lighten his heart. What his father would say, if he only knew…not only was Seoc once again transgressing the moral code by consorting with another of the same gender, but of a different species. And a lesser species, at that. It was fine to love an elf, or even a goblin under the right circumstances, but an Aechyed—that was just not done.
Take that, Tormod, you bastard, Seoc thought to himself, feeling a grin tug at the corners of his mouth.
“Seoc, you list’then to me?”
He continued to smile through the stained-glass window, unwilling to take his eyes from the figure on the dark grounds below, who now seemed to be picking his way through the children’s cemetery. “No, Auntie Mia,” he replied. “I’m no’ listenin’. Sorry.”
Seymour’s shape bent to pick something up off of the ground. When he stood upright once more, his posture was rapt and rigid. Was this a detective at work? But what could be found in the little cemetery? Surely all clues there would be six feet deep.
Could Kirsti have anything to do with this? He had been told that his cousin had died in an accident, but no one had ever given him any details. Perhaps there had been more to it than that.
Mialina sighed in exasperation. “Vhat is so fascinat’thing in dzat vindow?”
But Seoc was already trotting away, and he was out of earshot before she finished her question.