“Good ones, I hope?”
“Yes.” Hugh’s voice softened and lowered as his fingers rose to stroke my cheek tenderly. “Perhaps we should explore what lies between us. But later. I would rather not spend my time here with you but in more… cozy and private quarters. Hence why I say, let’s be off.”
With that, Hugh hurried out, looking handsome and relaxed, as though he hadn’t just overhead someone plotting—or attempting to plot—against the king. I followed more slowly, deciding that if I arrived later, our separated reappearance might look like a lame (and failed) attempt at social decency.
When I entered the room, the curious gazes that drifted my way were filled with a combination of hilarity, curiosity, or jealousy. For the first time, the distant High Mage of the White Tower had returned to the dance hall looking rather disheveled. I know I didn’t look entirely debauched, but I definitely appeared as though I had been up to something of a private nature with Hugh.
From that time on, it was rather easy for the both of us to extricate ourselves quickly from Lady Saffron’s soiree. Everyone easily believed that Hugh and I had other things on our minds. As we were leaving, however, a familiar voice stopped us at the bottom of the front stair by the great wooden doors. It was, I thought, the First Voice: a young tom with brown hair and hazel eyes who waved at Hugh lazily.
“There you are, Hugh. I was wondering where you’d gotten to.”
“Matteau,” Hugh said, keeping his tone free of surprise to be so accosted. “It’s been a while, my friend.”
“Indeed. I was hoping to catch up with you and discuss some… private matters in that old nook we used to meet up in.”
Hugh blinked and then nodded slowly with a flirtatious smile. “I recall the place, but the winter air would make the balcony rather inclement, don’t you think?”
“Hm?” Matteau said innocently. “I was thinking of the window seat. Did you not steal my first kiss from me there?”
I swiveled to glare at Hugh. Then I caught myself, flicked my tail in chagrin, and stared down at the floor. I didn’t want to stifle Hugh or make him always afraid of what I was thinking.After all, what Hugh had done in the past, or intended to do in the future was truly none of my concern. I merely wished it was.
“Ah, I had forgotten,” Hugh said, the tone of his voice now oddly stilted.
“I rather thought you had,” Matteau said, clapping a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “If you ever want to revisit it with me, let me know. You return to the castle?”
Hugh nodded.
“Give my regards to the king, won’t you?” asked Matteau kindly. “Ah! Weston! Wait up for me.”
Giving Hugh a wink and tipping his head courteously to me, Matteau jogged off to join an older, grumpy-looking noble. Hugh, grabbing me by the elbow, dragged me out the front door, barely allowing me to tie my cloak snugly. Once we reached the privacy of the carriage, Hugh exploded with excitement.
“That, Alan, was Lord Matteau. You don’t know him, do you? No. Of course, you wouldn’t. You’re always immured in your lab, but surely you recognized his voice?”
“The first one. The loyal one.”
“Indeed. And that was a message. He knew that we were in the window seat.”
“How?” Alan asked.
“Was probably following me for a variety of reasons, and then of course, he was stopped by the other tom—Baron Weston Forensson, an old supporter of the original, now deceased, Crown Prince Loren.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. And Forensson is a good friend of Lord Morne.”
“Ohhh…” I could see now. “So, Matteau was… warning you?”
“I think Matteau was letting me know that he brought the conversation to us on purpose, knowing who we are and what we stand for. He was quite brilliantly putting himself in our camp.”
“Yes, how lovely,” I said gloomily.
“I knew something was up when he mentioned the window seat. Our first kiss was, I recall quite distinctly, on the balcony.”
“Yes, of course it was.”
“Alan.” Hugh stared at me. “Are you… Surely not. Are you… jealous?”
I fought back a pout and failed, blushing and glaring miserably out of the carriage window.
