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His mouth felt dry suddenly, and it was hard to swallow. He thought of Berenger in the hall somewhere behind him, wondered if Berenger was looking at him, thought he probably wasn’t.

‘No. I mean that I don’t know—I don’t know what meetings he’s taken.’

‘Oh dear.’ The tone was disappointed. ‘I thought you were clever.’

The Regent shifted, forcing Ancel to reposition, awkwardly. He was motioning for one of the servants to approach, looking past Ancel as though he was done with him.

‘I am.’ Ancel’s heart was pounding. ‘You just haven’t asked the right question.’

‘And what’s that,’ said the Regent.

‘If I’m loyal,’ said Ancel.

‘And are you?’ said the Regent.

‘Very,’ said Ancel. ‘To the highest bidder. That’s what a pet is.’ He made his words soft, like velvet. ‘Berenger owns my contract today, but tomorrow…?’

‘I admire your enterprise,’ said the Regent. ‘Look around this court. I’ll arrange a contract with whoever you like—’

The servant had arrived, with a silver tray full of sweets. The Regent took one, then held it, between thumb and forefinger, in front of Ancel’s lips. ‘—if you’re good.’

Ancel leaned in and ate the sweet from the Regent’s fingers. He did it holding the Regent’s gaze. The Regent smiled, and brushed some powdered sugar from Ancel’s lips with his thumb.

‘Your pet is very obliging,’ said the Regent, as he returned Ancel to Berenger at the end of the night. ‘We’ve spent a wonderful night, talking.’

‘Your Highness.’ Berenger bowed low. His face was wiped of all expression.

They walked back to Berenger’s rooms together in silence. Ancel didn’t take his arm as had been his custom. It was late enough that there was no one in the passages or on the stairs. Ancel could hear the echo of every step. Their presence seemed unbearably loud, though Berenger said nothing to him at all.

Inside their rooms, Berenger dismissed him with a shake of his head. Ancel watched him turn away, watched him enter the darkened part of the rooms that held his bed, beginning to unlace his own jacket.

‘I didn’t tell him anything.’

The words were a blurt, delivered to the back of Berenger’s shoulders. Berenger’s movement came to a halt.

‘What do you mean?’

‘About you and the Prince. That you’ve been meeting secretly each night. That you’re taking his side, that you’ve offered him funding and passage through Varenne, I didn’t tell him any of that, I thought that you—’

Berenger turned. Berenger was across the room, his hands on Ancel’s arms, gripping him tightly, his eyes boring into Ancel’s.

‘Stop it. You’re spoiling my clothes. I didn’t tell him. I told you. I didn’t tell him anything.’

Berenger didn’t let go. Berenger eyes were searching his face.

‘How do you know about any of that?’

‘Just because I like nice things, and don’t read the boring books you like, doesn’t mean I’m stup—’

‘This isn’t a game, Ancel.’

‘I’m trying to secure my future! I need to go somewhere. After you—after you end my contract. The Regent’s the most powerful man at court. Why shouldn’t I try to better myself? But I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t tell him anything about you. You’ve always been—generous—you gave me gifts, and I thought you—’

Berenger released him roughly, and moved two steps off. ‘So that’s it. You want gifts?’ Berenger said, in a flat, deadly voice, ‘Are you trying to blackmail me for money?’

Ancel felt his mouth turn to sand. ‘No.’

Berenger didn’t turn back to face him. ‘There are lives at stake. I’ll give you whatever you want to keep my dealings private.’


Tags: C.S. Pacat Captive Prince Short Stories Fantasy