“He hasn’t seen me in ages, Mother. Let him be.” Yves sat down, and it struck him that Sunny might have held his hand out of an instinctive bid for comfort. Growing up as a submissive in the Cooper house wasn’t the easiest experience, especially without Yves to take the brunt of his mother’s displeasure.Yves felt a pang of guilt, which quickly turned into the familiar outrage that he had to be the one to protect them in their own home.
“Darling.” Sybil gestured to the man sitting next to her. “I’d like to introduce you to Lester Hatfeld.”
Yves smiled at the man. He was at least thirty years older than him, which wasn’t a problem in theory, but it bothered Yves that his mother thought that no one younger would be interested. He was looking at Yves like someone about to pick through a tart at a breakfast table—which was, again, not technically a problem, or it wouldn’t have been before yesterday. But Yves couldn’t get the dance at the ball out of his mind, the surety of being held by someone who wanted him as more than a bauble to put on a shelf and fuck occasionally.
“So we’ve met,” Yves said. He turned back to his mother. “He isn’t on my approved list.”
“Here, now,” Lester said. His voice had a reedy, thin dominance to it, and Yves felt like a cat having his fur brushed the wrong way. “A submissive should greet their dominant on his knees, with his head bowed.”
“Good thing you’re not my dominant,” Yves said. Sunny let go of Yves’ hand and covered his mouth. “Mother. I already have a plan for my future. Admit that I’m a lost cause and move on.”
“I can’t simply move on,” Sybil said. “People in the village are starting to talk.”
“They’ve been talking since the dawn of time.”
“That is no way to speak to a dominant, let alone your mother,” Lester said.
“Lester.” Yves didn’t bother to put on a polite smile anymore. “The first rule of working with a courtesan in Duciel—don’t insert yourself where you’re not wanted.”
Lester’s face went dangerously pink. “You’d have the back of my hand for that.”
“No, he will not,” Sybil said sharply, and Lester drew back, cowed.
“You’re the one who picked him for me,” Yves said. “That’s a reflection on you and your taste.”
“I have never,” Lester said, rising to his feet, “been more insulted in my life.”
Sybil raised her hands in the air, knocking Lester off balance and back into his seat. “No one else wanted you!”
At the table nearby, Harriet sucked in an audible breath.
“Yes, they do.” Sunny’s voice was small at Yves’ side. “They do, Ma. That’s why you came running. Everyone in Duciel wants to marry Yves.”
At that moment, Yves would have gladly given away every cent he’d earned to set Sunny up in a house next to the opera. He patted Sunny’s back where his mother couldn’t see, and Sunny ducked his head and looked away sheepishly.
“They want to own you,” Sybil said, looking into Yves’ eyes. “Is that what you want? To be owned by someone who thinks they can buy you?”
“That’s not what this is?” Yves gestured to the red-faced Lester. “Ma, you and Pa run one of the biggest farms on this side of Staria. Anyone from town who asked for my hand would be asking for part of that. Here, I control what I give to people, and I control what they can take from me. And people do want me. Even submissives want me.”
Sybil raised her brows. “What does a submissive want with another submissive?”
“Maybe my company. Maybe my companionship. Maybe he likes me, Ma.” Yves slammed his hands on the table. Sybil rose to meet him, staring into his eyes.
“Does he love you?”
“Doeshe?” Yves jerked a head to Lester. “I’m sorry we can’t all have the love you and Pa have. It must be real special. Atrue love, for him to ignore how you tread all over your children because you can’t handle us having minds of our own!”
“Oh, no,” Pearl moaned.
“I tried,” Sybil said. Her voice was shaking, and she clenched her hands on the table. “I did try, Darling. But at every turn, you tested me.”
“If I was a test, then you failed,” Yves said. Part of him shrank at the hurt in his mother’s eyes, but he’d already gone too far to turn back. There was only one thing he could do to end it now. And it would work. It would be fine. He could manage it, even if it didn’t feel the same as love. Even if the one thing he wanted was, as Charon had said, impossible. “It’s too late. You can bring as many dominants as you want here to look at me as though being a courtesan is something shameful, but it won’t matter. Raul Vitrier, the wealthiest man in Kallistos, proposed to me last night.”
Sunny gasped outright. Harriet pressed a hand to her chest. Sybil looked almost tearful.
“Yves,” Harriet said. “I think?—”
“He’s a submissive, Mother.” Yves leaned across the table, refusing to break eye contact. “He’s kind, and he’s thoughtful, and he cares about me. And in a few weeks’ time, he’s going to be myhusband!”
