“Not atthesetimes?—”
“Yes, at these times,” Ashar told him, smiling. “When I as the master of this place’s warding can keep a broader watch even than your impressive skills, certainly you’re allowed off duty—or at the least, lowered duty. Should a swarm of assassins crash through the window, then I would certainly appreciate your aid, but in the meantime…”
He dug both hands into Kamil’s pelt and scratched the good spot behind his ears, and Kamil yowled irritated pleasure, biting down hard on the pillow.
Rahat’s smile was as much wistful as charmed as he stroked his bodyguard’s shoulder with a gentle hand. “O my valiant protector, take joy from our hands, with every pleasure well earned.”
Kamil huffed his opinion of that, but his eyes were bliss-hazed golden slits and he was a limp puddle of purrs at Rahat’s side.
Prickly paws landed on Ashar’s shoulder with a thump, and a familiar damp nose shoved into his ear and sneezed. Ashar was glad he didn’t have claws of his own, because his startled flinch could have scratched Kamil. Satisfied to have startled his master, Nehal leapt from Ashar’s shoulder to Kamil’s head and gnawed on the tall catfolk’s ears with enthusiasm.
“Enough, kitten,” Kamil said, reaching up to grab Nehal by the scruff.
“Kamil,” Rahat prompted, with folded arms and a surprisingly stern look from those soft eyes.
“Fine, fine.” Kamil settled Nehal against his chest and stroked a fingertip over the irritable little cat’s black-velvet fur. “I apologize, small one. You had not earned my wrath.”
Nehal glowered at him through half-lidded eyes, clearly not yet appeased. Another small mew startled them all, though, and a second cat put a paw on Rahat’s knee—this one smoky gray, and extremely round.
“Oh!” Astonished and delighted, Rahat offered fingertips for the cat to sniff, then ventured a gentle stroke. “Hello, my beauty. Are you possibly here for me…?”
“No,” Kamil said, amused. “You are here for her, obviously.”
“You are here for each other,” Ashar said. “She found you to be a kindred spirit.”
“And a kindred shape,” Kamil added, whiskers twitching in amusement. “Besides, I’m sure she wants silken pillows to birth those kittens upon.”
“I hadn’t realized spirit-summoned familiars could have kittens!”
“Why not? They’re real enough to pet, real enough to enjoy catnip and treats and the rest of the body-joys of incarnation. And you can afford to keep her in indulgences. And I can use more curious eyes and ears in—” Kamil glanced at Ashar, and visibly stopped himself before he said anything likethe Imperial fortressorthe haveliorthe palace.
The gray cat padded her imperious way over Rahat’s thigh and turned around in circles before snuggling into his lap.
“What will you call her?” Ashar asked, as Nehal padded over to sniff the new cat.
“I—I can name her, can’t I? Sahar, I think.” Still breathless with delight, Rahat ventured to smooth her velvet-soft fur over her kitten-roundness, and was rewarded by a quiet purr. “How can I possibly repay such a gift?”
“You can’t,” Ashar said, smiling as he stroked Nehal’s ears. “I’ve told you already that I won’t accept payment for this night. And cats always make their own choices.”
“But something changes, tonight. The thread-snarls came unknotted—” Rahat stopped himself short a breath too late, but Ashar waved it aside.
“Perhaps you were not seized in an alley when I coaxed you into a lingering bath, or Nehal might carry a morsel of gossip to Kamil, or Sahar’s pounce of kittens might poke curious noses into exactly the right room.”
“Still. You could ask me for anything short of the throne itself,” Rahat murmured, carefully not meeting Ashar’s eyes.
“Then the only treasure I’d ask is one that only you can give me.”
Kamil cast him an irritated look, his tail thwapping against the pillow. “You aren’t going to make me regret my forbearance, are you?”
“Next week,” Ashar said, “or the week after, when your Sahar’s kittens have come, bring them here so that I can adore them? And perhaps we might name them together.”
“Truly?”
“By my heart.”
“Thank you.” Rahat’s smile was a sweet, warm gift of its own, but then he leaned over and kissed Ashar, without even a shadow of his earlier hesitation and shame.
“Oh,” Ashar breathed, wondering if the nameless vision Rahat had sought him for might also have been hidden from his foresight because it held a change he couldn’tsee. Comfort in his body, assurance of his welcome, desire without fear of mockery… “Oh, do that again, please!”
