The walk back to the palace was lengthier than Archie would have done at this time of day by himself but he made no suggestion of taking a carriage, even though several empty cab carriages trotted by. They walked in companionable silence, Archie not wanting to break this fragile moment. It was an odd sensation. He couldn’t help but be overly aware of Damian’s presence.
Damian was taller, broader, with Archie listing into him. He could feel the sturdiness of Damian’s side, the rustle of clothing as their coats brushed against each other, the body heat where their elbows linked tight. If he didn’t think about it too hard, he could pretend it was a true courtship.
“This, too, is a desire,” said Damian, his tone softer than anything Archie had ever heard out of the demon. Archie turned to look up at him, the lines of his strong cheekbones and firm chin cast in shadow. But Damian had nothing else to add.
It was only when they neared the palace that Archie slowed. The shroud of night that seemed to protect them all the way here was lifted by the long string of lit lanterns.
“I guess we should separate,” said Archie reluctantly, even though he made no move to let go.
“It is not as if I am leaving you,” said Damian with some amusement. He took Archie’s wrist with his free hand and elegantly unwrapped his linked arm. And then, just before he let go, he bent his head and dropped a kiss on the back of Archie’s glove. He felt it, barely, the slightest whisper against his skin. He inhaled sharply, and blinked, and Damian was gone.
Home, said Damaris, and the warmth of his presence inside Archie’s mind felt right.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MIDWINTER APPROACHED. ARCHIE’S days seemed strangely filled now, in a way they hadn’t been six months ago even though back then he’d answered his mother’s every call to attend a party. He maintained his correspondence diligently and was pleased to find that his old friends, though few, seemed interested in writing back and making time for him over lunches.
Then there were his new acquaintances: Prince Ixthan had invited him (or, more accurately, had invited Damaris, with an uninterested acknowledgment that Archie would come too) to a couple more gatherings. His friend Eric always made sure he felt welcome and made him to engage him in conversation and Archie was starting to get a good understanding of that group and who they all were.
Ollie, too, after he went home, was writing more frequently and directly to him now instead of assuming he would find things out through their father. Estelle was well under way planning for her wedding in spring and Archie found himself the easily available escort for fabric shops and flower shops and all sorts.
In fact, he found his days so filled that it wasn’t until Mother asked what his plans were for the Midwinter Hunt that he realized she hadn’t asked him to meet any of her friends’ daughters in almost a month. He wasn’t going to be the first to bring it up though.
“None yet, Mother,” said Archie. He didn’t know why she asked – he historically had never participated in the Midwinter Hunt, preferring instead to spend the coldest, bleakest part of the year indoors next to a roaring great fire with a book and a tankard of mulled wine.
“Your father and I will be in the tents on the final day to celebrate the victors,” said Mother, but it was more of an appeal than a request, so Archie ignored it.
“I’ll be riding with Caleb’s party if you wish to join us,” offered Estelle, though she knew well he wouldn’t accept.
“Beg me off, that sounds even colder,” said Archie with a shudder.
The Midwinter Hunt started out as a response by King Oren, Archie’s great-grandfather, to the demon threat. The border between the human and demon worlds was at its thinnest at midwinter, and a number of demons always managed to escape into their world at that time of year. They would arrive and feast on animals here, inhabiting their corpses without even understanding that they were possessing a dead creature. The king had gathered his nobles and hunted them down, with great accolades given to those who slaughtered the most demons, and it swiftly became an annual event.
These days, the Midwinter Hunt was more festive than anything else. The tents Archie’s mother mentioned would be set up at the edge of the city, along with tables heaving of steaming food and drink, where any noble might come to spectate or merely partake in the holiday cheer, safely surrounded by giant braziers. The commoners would congregate on the nearby hill, the raised slope affording them a good view of any action a safe distance from the danger, and small stalls would sell hot cider, spiced hand pies, roasted nuts and the like.
“You have reminded me, dearest,” said Father absently, reaching into his coat pocket and drawing out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. “Archie, Jasper left me a note for you.”
“PrinceJasper?” Archie took the letter. He turned the note over in his hands. It was warmed by his father’s body heat, which likely meant he’d been toting it around for some time and had entirely forgotten about it.
“What does it say?” asked Estelle impatiently as Archie cracked it open carefully. It was sealed with Jasper’s personal seal, not his official one as Crown Prince. He was getting tired of secretive notes from princes, cousins or no.
“He’s invited me to join his hunting party,” said Archie, baffled, reading the note again to see if he had possibly made a mistake.
“Oh! What a surprise!” said Mother, looking even more confused than Archie felt, if that was possible. “And an honor. You will be accepting, of course.”
“I suppose,” said Archie dubiously. It was an invitation, not a summons, but it was a poor idea to turn down the CrownPrince. And besides, he was curious as to why he might have been invited. Father had carefully made sure to keep a respectful distance through the years; although he was very active in the Council, he had no desire to be accused of wanting the crown for himself.
Therefore, they might be second cousins, connected by their great-grandfather Oren, but Archie had only interacted with the man a few times at ceremonial events. Charlie was more of an age with Jasper, and there was some implication that Jasper did not care for their branch of the family due to his association with Charlie. Charlie would never admit it, of course.
After dinner, Archie carefully probed for Damaris’s presence. He’d been utilizing his Damian form more and more recently when Archie was occupied with other things, sliding in and out of his head as if it were a turned bed. When Archie had questioned it, the demon had mentioned something about the feast available to him, the cold turn in weather making couples more likely to take their fun indoors. Archie had wisely not probed for more information.
He’d been absent during dinner, so Archie hadn’t been able to gage his reaction to a demon hunt, so now Archie curled up in an armchair and closed his eyes. The space Damaris usually occupied was empty, but there was still a lingering essence of him there, something that irrevocably tied him to Archie. It still took him a moment to find it, like the waft of a faint perfume, and then he followed it.
Damaris had tried to explain magic some more to Archie, in a confusing jumble of images and memories, but demons existed steeped in magic and Archie didn’t even knowhe would be considered a mage several months ago. Now, he knew enough to float himself magically along that link between the two of them. He got the sense of moving through the palace, though he couldn’t tell more than that since he had no eyes or ears, until he found the familiar aura that meant Damaris.
The demon was in shadow form, lazily lurking on the ground, and suddenly Archie was glad he couldn’t tell any details because he could feel Damaris feeding, soaking up the hazy feeling of desire in the air. It was strange, experiencing it from the other side. It was like soaking in a bath, every mote of it giving Archie a little more energy in an aching, drifting consciousness.
Damaris silently brushed questioningly against Archie’s consciousness. Enveloping himself around Archie, he pulled back into his body — their body. Archie didn’t even know how to describe it, it felt as they were transported back instantly, the return of eyesight and hearing and being corporeal making him dizzy for a moment.
