“Yves talked you into it, did he?”
Charon wished Laurent could, just this once, be a little less keen. He’d been one of the top-earning courtesans in recent history, and that didn’t come without a sharp eye and a fondness for gossip. While Oleander asked all the wrong questions and came to outlandish conclusions, Laurent only needed one to glean the truth.
“I’m glad you’re staying, in any case.” Laurent fished through the papers on his desk and handed one to Charon. “You may be retiring a little less ambitiously than Yves, but you’re still in demand. Lord Marteau invited you to his city home. Not as a courtesan, mind. Some nobles in Duciel seem to be underthe impression that your familiarity with Sabre and myself may mean that a title is in the cards for you.”
Charon sighed. Sabre would probably find a way to offer him a noble title if Laurent wanted him to, and Laurent’s hints about Charon taking over the House of Onyx one day meant that was a distinct possibility.
“I could ask Sabre,” Laurent said.
“I would refuse if it was offered.”
“It could be nice to have a secure place to return to when you’re done traveling.” Laurent idly flipped through his other correspondence. “Yves might appreciate it. He’ll cause too much trouble without you to temper him.”
Charon didn’t dignify the obvious baiting with a response.
“You know he adores you.”
“He flirts with me,” Charon said, “typically for his clients’ benefit. That isn’t the same.”
“The same way you feel?”
Charon met Laurent’s steely gaze. “I don’t see how my feelings have any bearing on Yves’ flirtations.”
“Charon. There’s flirting, and then there’s what happens to Yves every time you’re in the room.”
Charon stood. “I should see to the door in the training room. It’s been sticking lately.”
“For gods’ sake, Charon,” Laurent said, “be sensible. Would it truly be so terrible if you admitted that you wanted something?”
Charon turned to look at Laurent. He didn’t know what Laurent saw in his eyes, but it seemed to have a sobering effect.
“I’ll have the door fixed before we open for the night,” Charon said. He turned to leave before Laurent could speak, closing the door firmly behind him.
Yves was sunning himself in the garden with Nanette when Oleander appeared at the gate.
They weren’t wearing their typical scowl, which was mildly alarming. They were also holding a cat, which made Yves sit up and shove Nanette awake. The cat was a cross-eyed, sickly creature with a thick black coat and the saddest expression Yves had ever seen, and it clung to Oleander like a lamprey.
“Um,” a voice said behind Oleander, and Yves craned around to find Raul standing there, holding a tiny bell in one hand. He wouldn’t look Yves in the eye, and he opened his mouth and shut it again in mortified silence.
“He found the bell at the cat parlor,” Oleander said, standing there like a grumpy translator with a bedraggled cat in their arms.
“You can’t be serious,” Yves said, sitting up. He hadn’t expected any of his suitors to think of the cat sanctuary. His favorite kept belled collars on their cats, which had given Yves the idea, but he’d assumed that most of his suitors wouldn’t care about a cat sanctuary in the lower city.
“I h-heard you liked…cats,” Raul said, but Oleander lurched forward, their eyes panicky and wide.
“The sanctuary said they were going to kill him because he’s sick,” they blurted. “They were going tokillhim! Just because he has a problem with his eyes and his paws are burned because the ground was too hot or something, which—which isn’t his fault. They’remonsters.”
“You didn’t steal him, did you?” Yves asked, looking at Nanette. This was a side of Oleander he’d never seen before.
“I paid for it,” Raul said, in the softest voice Yves had ever heard. “They were rather upset.”
“Rather upset?” Oleander asked. They looked like they were about to burst into tears. “Any sensible person would be more thanrather upset!”
“Easy, Olly,” Yves said. Olly’s distress seemed to have an adverse affect on Raul, who was flinching back with every word. As he expected, their frustration at being calledOllywas enough to snap them out of it.
Oleander glared at him.“Stop that. And if you tell Laurent that I have a cat, I’ll throw all your clothes in the mud for the rest of your life.” The cat wrapped his paws around Oleander’s neck.
“How did you both end up in a cat parlor in the first place?” Nanette asked. Yves took the bell from Raul and slipped it in his pocket.
