Opening the parlor door, Kazia’s heart flashes with fear. Lucien might be pressed on the other side, waiting to jump at him. The commands might have worn off. But Lucien sits inplain sight, far enough away, cross-legged in the center of the room.
And Kazia’s rats clamber over Lucien’s feet.
Panic ices Kazia’s veins. “What are you doing?” Kazia’s so distressed, he barely remembers to give orders. That he’s in control. “Don’t hurt them!”
Lucien goes rigid, then relaxes not into calm, but into a ready, waiting state. “I haven’t hurt them. I don’t intend to.”
Kazia’s hands hurt. He doesn’t remember grabbing the doorframe.
There are five rats with Lucien, and they all look happy. Butterfly is on Lucien’s shoulder, and Princess and Melloweed crawl over and under Lucien’s crossed legs. Cloud and Shoe are intent on breaking into the treat box next to Lucien’s knee.
Those five are the friendliest in the colony. They love any attention.
Behind Kazia, Salarin asks, “Is everything all right, Your Highness?”
“Fine,” Kazia says tersely. Then, pulling himself under control, “Thank you.”
Closing the door, Kazia resists the urge to order Lucien to his feet. He can’t have Lucien moving too quickly and hurting the rats.
Even seated, Lucien is too tall. Too dangerous, despite the collar dark around his throat. Every nerve in Kazia’s body is too fragile.
“What are you doing?” Kazia bites out.
Lucien just sits there. He’s quiet and watchful as he holds Kazia’s rats hostage. “I was bored waiting for you, and figured they might be bored too.” Butterfly sniffs Lucien’s hair, andLucien wrinkles his nose. “I’d get up and bow, but I’m a little occupied.”
The rats are fine. Shoe sits on top of the treat box, inspecting the hinges. Princess tries shoving her speckled head inside Lucien’s boot. The rats arefine, and Kazia’s closer to tears now than he was in his father’s map room.
“How many treats did you give them?” Kazia asks, because it’s the safest question he can think of.
“One each.” Lucien reaches out to stroke Princess’s back. “Except this little one stole a second, so I had to give seconds to all the others, too.”
Crouching, Kazia scoops the rat from Lucien’s knee. He moves gingerly and doesn’t touch Lucien’s leg. “That’s no surprise. Princess is voracious.”
Lucien tilts his head. He looks warier now than when Kazia was yelling. “Do they all have names?”
“Of course.” Kazia holds Princess to his chest. She presses her cold nose to the hollow of his throat as he points at the others. “That’s Butterfly. That’s Cloud and Shoe. That’s Melloweed.”
“Shoe?” Lucien asks.
Kazia has never had to explain this. Most people don’t ask. “The big spot on her rump looks like a heeled shoe.”
“If you say so,” Lucien replies dubiously. “Are they all named after their markings?”
There are eighteen rats total, though at least they’re all sterile. How the fuck else would Kazia remember their names? “Except for Melloweed. He just looks sleepy all the time, because his eyes are so small.”
Lucien hefts Melloweed up. The rat is tiny in the mage’s hands. After a moment, Lucien says, “I can see that.”
His tone of voice is so ordinary. So casual. That’s what freezes Kazia again. He’s far too close, far too at ease with this Silaisan mage. And he’s seen enough of Lucien Vaire to know that’s not an accident.
Kazia holds the key to Lucien’s collar, but right now he’s the one who feels trapped. Defenseless.
Painfully seen.
“What are you doing?” Kazia asks, not quite managing the fierce demand he intended.
“Just asking about the rats.” Lucien sets Melloweed down and begins disengaging Butterfly from his shoulder. Difficult, when Butterfly keeps wiggling. “Are you busy?”
“Excuse me?”
