Chapter Eleven
Delauney had never seen Wes go so cold before.
It was like watching a living person transform into a statue in the span of a breath.
The light in Wes’ eyes died. His expression went stiff and wooden, and he straightened to attention like a proper soldier.
Pain flickered over Captain Ferrin’s face before he, too, underwent his own, subtle transformation.
They stared at each other like wooden pillars, a chill running through the warm ballroom.
“Oh, Leonhart,” Delauney’s father said. “How... nice. Are you here under your brother’s orders, then?”
“Absolutely not,” Wes said sharply, as Ferrin said, with a yearning in his voice that made Delauney feel tense and tight, “How have you been, Wes?”
“Fine,” Wes said.
“Then why is he here?” Delauney’s mother whispered, too loudly as always. Far from shrinking away from the awkwardness permeating their circle, King Adrien looked delighted, turning from Wes to Ferrin with obvious interest.
“He’s my guest,” Delauney said. He slid his arm around Wes, but it was truly like trying to move a statue. “We’re... we’re partners.”
“Partners?” Delauney’s father asked. “Partners how?”
“How else can two people be partners, Father?” Leo asked. “We were just going to a smoking room to speak, in fact, if you’d like to show King Adrien the reflecting pool.”
“You and Delauney?” Ferrin asked, tilting his head slightly. Wes’ mouth went hard.
“Lane,” Delauney’s father said, pulling Delauney away from Wes and the king.
Unfortunately, it was hardly far enough for his boisterous voice not to carry.
“I’m not saying that you can’t take on a commoner as a fun little diversion, but the Leonharts are notorious social climbers.
Even Captain Ferrin has ingratiated himself with the de Guillories more than is wise for someone of his station. You need to protect yourself, love.”
“It isn’t like that,” Delauney said, feeling suddenly young and helpless again, trapped by his father’s misplaced concern.
“Darling, I know you think that, but he will inevitably toss you over once you can’t finance his lifestyle any longer.” Delauney’s father dabbed at his neck with a cloth. “But you can’t really blame them. It’s in their blood to drain us dry.”
“In whose blood?” Delauney asked. He could see Wes’ shoulders stiffen from where he stood.
“People like the Leonharts. Do you think that the captain received his post by chance? We all know that he was familiar with King Emile, and, well, King Adrien is young and submissive.”
“And married,” Delauney said. “Father. They’re less than ten paces behind you.”
“They can’t hear us,” Delauney’s father said. Delauney glanced at King Adrien, who looked more amused than ever. Leo looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, but he had his hands full with their mother, who kept saying, “partners?” in an increasingly troubled tone.
Delauney’s father sighed. “Here, lad. We’ll sort this out for you. Just pay him what he wants to leave and we’ll find a nice dominant to take care of you. Someone like Ned, wouldn’t that be nice?”
“I don’t want someone like Ned,” Delauney said. “And Wesley doesn’t want my money. We’re going to the Aviary in Gerakia, Father. Both of us. The Gerakians don’t acknowledge noble titles there.”
Delauney’s father went pale. “Gerakia?” he cried.
“Oh no,” Delauney’s mother said. “Not again.”
“Again?” Leo asked. “Was there a first time?”
“He got it into his head that he wanted to study the constellations or some such nonsense,” Delauney’s mother said. “But that’s over now. You already moved on from such foolish notions.”
“If this Leonhart fellow put these thoughts into your head,” Delauney’s father said, his voice trailing off in a warning tone.
“All right,” Wesley said, turning on his heel. “I believe I’ve had quite enough.”
“Wes,” Ferrin said, his voice low with dominance. Wes ignored him.
Delauney took a step away from his father. “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”
“And we’re so proud of you,” his father said. “But an enterprising man might exploit your easy nature.”
“Easy nature?” Wes asked. His tone was formal, his manner impeccably polished. “You’re speaking to Captain Delauney de Mazet, an overseer of King Adrien’s special military council and a scholar of some acclaim. I would kindly ask you to speak to him with a greater measure of respect.”
Acclaim? Delauney thought. They hadn’t even started their studies yet! But Wes had clearly hit his mark, because Delauney’s parents were staring at him as though he’d started spitting fire all over the ballroom. Even Leo was staring, though a small smile was starting to creep over his face.
“Ah, yes,” King Adrien said. “I did appoint you to my council, didn’t I?” He winked at Delauney. “Thank you for that. I can’t have eyes everywhere, no matter what people say.”
“Young man,” Delauney’s mother said. “I don’t know how your people comport themselves in polite society, but it’s generally expected—”
“Ferrin comports himself perfectly,” Wes said. “Unless you’re questioning the king’s choice in his guard captain. But I’m certain that he can pick a more refined candidate if he doesn’t mind severely reducing the quality of his personal guard. Do you mind, your majesty?”
“I do, actually,” Adrien said, beaming as though watching a show at the theater.
“Has my brother ingratiated himself into your family,” Wes asked, “or has he loyally protected two kings through as many attempts at treason by members of the noble court?”
“I’d say the latter,” Adrien said, as the chatter around them died out. Ferrin was watching Wes in what Delauney could only describe as a state of shock as Wes whipped back around to Delauney’s father. “But I’m pretty sure it was five attempts at treason so far. Remember the incident last spring?”
Ferrin sighed heavily. “What. Incident.”
“Oh, right,” Adrien said. “We’re not talking about that one.”
“You may insult my parents all you like,” Wes said.
“You can call them conniving, greedy, self-serving social climbers, and I will gladly include a number of epithets to add to the list. But you don’t insult my brother, and you certainly don’t insult Delauney, who has clearly worked harder for what he has than you have in your entire life. ”
Delauney’s parents stared at Wes in open-mouthed horror. Leo covered his mouth with a hand, probably caught between shock at Wes’ impropriety and amusement. Adrien didn’t hide his grin whatsoever, and Ferrin looked as severe as stone.
Wes bowed stiffly to the king. “Your majesty.” He looked at Leo. “Congratulations on your engagement. Excuse me.” Then, with one a fleeting, terrified glance toward Delauney, Wes fled across the ballroom.
Delauney made to follow, but his father caught his arm.
“Lane,” he said, “surely you aren’t still enamored with that?”
“For goodness’ sake, Father,” Leo snapped. “Haven’t you done enough?”
That was enough to startle their father into releasing Delauney. “Haven’t I done enough?” he cried.
Delauney took the opportunity to escape, darting past Captain Ferrin and a wide-eyed King Adrien to trot after Wes' retreating back. He wound through the ballroom, down several winding halls, and into his mother’s Peacock Room, which was designed after her favorite bird.
She’d wallpapered it in a design based on peacock feathers, but it only made it look like a thousand eyes were staring at anyone who entered, making it a perfect place for a moment of privacy. Most visitors avoided it.
“Wes,” Delauney said, closing the door after him. “Wes, are you—”
“I just yelled at your parents in front of the king,” Wes cried, turning away from Delauney and pressing his forehead to the hideous wallpaper.
Delauney smiled despite himself. Wes usually didn’t seem to have a problem standing up to authority, but apparently the presence of King Adrien was enough to rattle his unshakable resolve. He walked over to Wes and lay a hand on his lower back.
“Wesley,” he said. “Wes. I have it on good faith that King Adrien is not as intimidating as he seems.”
“I spoke to him directly,” Wes said.
“And he loved it,” Delauney said. “The de Guillories are all horrible gluttons for gossip. It’s their greatest weakness. And my parents... well, my parents deserved it, for what they said about you.”
“And what about you?” Wes asked, eyeing Delauney sidelong.
Delauney shrugged. “They always talk that way about me.”
“It’s demeaning,” Wes said. He turned in Delauney’s hold, wrapping his arms around Delauney’s shoulders to pull him close. “They were treating you like a child. Actually, if they spoke that way to a child, it might be worse. It was despicable.”
Delauney leaned into Wes’ touch. “I’m used to it.”
“Well, I hope you won’t be, one day. I hope you’ll never be used to it again.” Wes kissed Delauney’s temple. “And Ferrin was there, to boot. What a nightmare.”
“He seemed...” Delauney tried to pick his words carefully. “Remorseful.”
“I know.” Wes sighed. “I know. Your brother was nice, though. It’s a shame that I ruined any chance of his good favor.”
“I wouldn’t make any assumptions,” Delauney said. “He’s been complaining about our parents since the day I was born.”
“I’ll mark him down as ‘sensible,’ then.” Wes looked up, brows pinched in concern. “Where on earth are we?”
“The Peacock Room,” Delauney said. Wes frowned at a giant painting of Delauney’s mother flying on a peacock over a golden castle. “Yes, that’s my mother. The statue of the woman carrying a peacock is also my mother.”
“How did you grow up in a place like this?” Wes asked.