“You are right,” David admitted on a sigh after a small pause.
Tu wanted to apologize again, although he had only spoken the truth.
“Please don’t be sad,” he heard himself saying, like an infatuated child and not a grown man many years David’s senior.
“It is not sadness,” David answered, though with some surprise.
“You’re tired.” Tu clucked his tongue. He fell back into old habits the moment he was in David’s presence, it seemed. “This is… this is the business of royals, and therefore none of mine. But if it is a consort you are after, this does not seem the most efficient method, unless you are seeking the best dancer.” He stopped short of asking the questions that had preoccupied the entire kingdom for weeks. “I always thought a match would be arranged for you, based on lineage or trade, and a combination of education and social graces.”
“You always thought?” David repeated with interest, only to drop the point, which was alarming in itself. David’s curiosity was not something easily dismissed. “If the requirements are lineage, as well as land or money, that already includes every guest invited. Everyone who chose to come has been raised in the correct, acceptable fashion, and all of them have had opportunities to learn what is necessary if you marry a prince.” The composed, overly polite royal had returned. “This is the most efficient plan.”
To hurry the task along of finding David a suitable spouse.
The lack of feeling in David’s voice for that was almost too much to bear.
“Is that also the reasons for the masks?” Tu demanded in disbelief. “One will do as well as any other?”
David raised his head, surprised or offended. “I don’t believe I caught your name, Sir Cat.”
“Sir Tom, if you please,” Tu answered impatiently, using Lady Stephanie’s nickname for his costume. He tried to look into David’s eyes for some hint of his true desires. “You chose a masquerade, several of them, for a purpose, so I assume names do not matter. But your match should matter, Highness.”
“For the kingdom.”
“For you, too, surely,” Tu argued, though it was likely he was not supposed to argue with the Prince.
David tipped his head to the side again, regarding Tu in a way that sent a shiver through Tu despite knowing better. “No one at this ball expects me to love them,” David informed him gently, as if Tu needed to be comforted and David was not the one in distress and acting recklessly. “And I do not expect to love them. The price for riches and a crown is responsibility and duty.”
Tu burned with pride and a soft, well-known pain. “Something they often say in books, but I have rarely heard of in practice. Except with you.” He glanced to the side but could not hide his admiration. “You will serve your country so well. But should you not also seek out some happiness for yourself?”
“A prince who is merely content is still more fortunate than most, don’t you think?” David smiled tightly. “Only a fool would ask for anything more.”
A smile from David that did not reveal a dimple was not a real smile.
Tu stepped away from the wall. “But among so many, there must be at least one to make you happy, and not merely suit life around the throne. Why not… why not Flor?”
“Everyone has thought that, for years now. But few ever say it directly.” David’s tone was uncertain. He faced Tu, giving the impression that David was studying him, although he would not be able to see much. Then David appeared to come to a decision. “I need Flor in a way that has nothing to do with a husband. His advice is always sound, even if I end up hurt. Forgive me,” David added before Tu could do more than frown. “You were right to say I was tired. These are all things to be shared with suitors, of course, but in time. Not at the first meeting. I’m sure you came here tonight expecting a party.”
“No, I… I’m not much for parties.” Tu stumbled over the full answer and settled for an incomplete one.
It earned him a half-smile; crooked, genuine, and charming.
“Me neither,” David confessed, making Tu’s chest hurt. “I don’t mind them from time to time. But if I can, I prefer to watch others have fun, while I sit someplace quieter. Maybe with a drink. Usually with… a friend.” His smile slipped.
Tu did not want to see it gone. “A good friend is worth more than their weight in gold,” he agreed gently.
“Yes. I am lucky to have a few I can rely on, even if…” David shook his head once, and left that sentence unfinished. “Tell me, please. If you didn’t come here to try to win a prince, why did you come? Was it really for the spectacle?”
“Of course not.” Tu shook his head. His throat was dry. “Perhaps I just wanted to see a masquerade.”
“So, it’s not a joke?” David asked, grave once more. “They do not think this ludicrous, or me ridiculous?”
Tu shook his head again, although rumors had been wild and varying. “People are curious,” he admitted. “But everyone wants you to be happy. Or at least settled. And, as I said, matters of state concern us all. Did no one else tell you this?”
“Flor.” David shrugged. “But sometimes he tries to make me feel better.”
“I could be doing that, too,” Tu pointed out, though softer and fonder than he would have liked, which he then had to account for. “You seem like a good man, and it pleases me to give you one fewer thing to worry over.”
Instead of appeasing David’s curiosity, that heightened it. David studied him in the shadowed, flickering light, his thoughts hidden by his golden mask. “Were you going to wait in line to speak to me?” he asked at last.
