David’s mother murmured something against David’s ear that made David nod slowly and then straighten. A moment later, he had joined them on the dais and the curtain had swung closed behind them.
“HE IS MISERABLE,” Tu reported to Lady Stephanie, yanking the cat ears off his head and throwing them onto the settee next to her. He had been unsurprised to find her waiting for him in his bookshop, or for her to follow him upstairs to his rooms. Lady Stephanie, like most of the Prince’s friends, cared little for propriety. “He was supposed to be happy. I was a distraction—a folly. It was best that he was rid of me.”
“Hmm.” Lady Stephanie sniffed the glass of port she’d poured for herself, then took a sip. “You didn’t enjoy the ball, then? Didn’t like seeing David being flattered and fussed over by every unmarried someone in the kingdom?”
“Every unmarried someone of suitable birth,” Tu corrected, and turned away without answering. He caught sight of himself in the looking-glass, black stockings and waistcoat, black coat and silly mask, and tore the mask away to stare at his reflection: the beginnings of crow’s feet at his eyes, the long strands of silver that did not lie flat with the rest of his hair. “I thought he might marry Flor,” he admitted. He had been prepared for Flor.
Lady Stephanie snorted. “They had plenty of chances before you came along, and neither of them seemed willing. The only one I have ever seen capture David’s attention was you.” Tu opened his mouth to remind her he was a bookseller, and of sometimes scandalous and inflammatory books, at that. Lady Stephanie did not allow the interruption. “You don’t see what you are, Tu. He did. But if you don’t value his opinion, then maybe youdon’tbelong anywhere near him. But… I tend to think you do.”
Tu’s arguments, so firm when he had started out his evening, were slippery and difficult to hold onto now. David still loved him. Impossible, but apparently true, though Tu had done nothing to deserve it.
“I am too old for him,” he declared at last in a faint voice.
“Didn’t bother him before, as I recall.” Lady Stephanie’s shrug was elegant disdain. Her wink was obscene. “So, that’s not the real issue, is it?”
David had known it could never be. Yes, he was full of radical ideas that Hyacinth and Flor encouraged, but this was not a fairy tale. There were limits in the real world. David must have known that. But hebelieved. That was what made him so wonderful, why his people loved him though he was quiet and bookish if left on his own. He believed, and that faith shined out of him.
Tu had basked in it and worried over it. He had long ago realized that David’s energy had a cost. He had slipped David water, or tea, or brandy, as needed. Fed him sandwiches and fruit. And, after David had kissed him for the first time, his gaze warm and wanting, Tu had taken to calming him by other means. Kisses, or scratching lightly along David’s back while David was curled up in his bed with a book, or pinning David’s wrists to the mattress and giving him everything in exchange for how David trusted him, how sweetly he asked for what he wanted.
Tu didn’t wish to think of that now, of David coming into his rooms to kiss him, hurried because he said to had to return to the palace for his sister’s birthday. Kissing Tu again before saying, all at once, “I thought you might like to come with me. As my guest. So they—she—can meet you.” As though Tu would be welcome among the royal family.
David had thought the difference in their stations could be overcome. That his family, that his country, would accept their relationship. That it had a future.
“What did happen between you that day?” Lady Stephanie broke unto Tu’s reverie with unusual gentleness. “David does not speak of it, not even to Flor.”
David had apologized for bothering Tu and walked out, never to return.
Tu flinched away from what he’d said, words designed to drive the Prince away. David had remembered them. That was now perfectly clear.
“I was sensible,” Tu informed her, voice even weaker than before.
For several moments, Lady Stephanie stared at him. Then she drained her glass and rose to her feet. “David will do what is right even if it kills him. Flor had to push him to make him be selfish, to make him admit he wanted to be. And then… you weresensible.” She expressed her disgust with one raised eyebrow. “Scared, you mean.”
Tu met her eyes. “He does not think he can be loved as he is, both man and prince.”
“I guess you’ll have to fix that,” the lady declared without mercy, and kissed him on the cheek. “You will, won’t you?”
“He might not still want me.” David had no reason to. Even if he loved, he did not have to forgive.
“But he doesn’t want any ofthem, either.” Lady Stephanie paused, then added archly, “And he is miserable,” before she swept from the room and left Tu with his memories, and the knowledge that he had never been able to see David unhappy, and was so obvious about it that their friends had noticed.
THE SECOND masked ball had a different theme. Tu discovered this when Lord Hyacinth, smug and knowing, had loaned him the kit of a black-and-white harlequin. Tu had thought he would stand out too much in such an outfit, but the ballroom was a sea of black and white, like being lost among chess pieces.
Tu’s stomach was tied in a knot. He had not eaten since the night before, though his nerves were pointless. He should not have come. David might not want the others, but he could not want Tu anymore, and had no doubt forgotten his chance meeting with a cat at the first ball a fortnight ago. Tu could not even be recognized, as he had bound up his hair and chosen a mask that covered his entire face. This whole endeavor was foolish.
But it was David, and if it meant seeing him again, Tu had to be here. He moved between groups, and avoided the dais which was currently absent of any princes. Somewhere to his right, Lady Stephanie was holding court over a group of enraptured young men. Tu had tried to hide among them, but the lady had shooed him away.
Tu did not belong among any other groups, though he had often mingled with the nobility in places like Lord Hyacinth’s house. He nodded blankly when some talked of fashions, and smiled when others complimented his unusual mask, and was forced to correct one or two for offering opinions on parts of the country they had clearly never been to. He did his best to treat them as mistaken customers and not arrogant fools.
This netted him several offers to dance that he only narrowly escaped, and which he happened to catch the Lady Stephanie grinning about.
No calmer than he had been at the start of the evening, Tu again looked to the dais, and this time was struck silent to find David there, all in black except for a crown of white paper roses and a white cravat. His dark mask once again only covered his eyes. He was smiling widely, happily, at someone, and for a moment, Tu’s heart stopped before he followed David’s gaze to see Flor holding hands with a blushing man in white.
“Excuse me,” Tu said to whoever was still talking to him, and walked a straight line to David as though no dancers, no other suitors existed.
David was so very beautiful, especially when he smiled. Tu stumbled on the steps up, drawing attention, but, at this moment, for him, there was only David.
“You seem in better spirits,” he breathed, remembering to drop his voice just in time. “I am pleased to see it, Your Royal Highness.”
