Chapter Ten #4
The inside of Delauney’s childhood home was as ostentatious as its grounds.
There were mirrors everywhere, catching the candlelight and casting disjointed reflections as they passed, making the entrance hall look twice as wide.
Servants wound through everyone, taking jackets and shawls, serving drinks, and cleaning up spills.
Everyone looked the same to Wes, dolls draped in masses of expensive cloth, moving like clockwork over the polished floor.
“Laney!”
Delauney grabbed Wes’ arm tight as an older woman in a violet gown swept toward them.
She had a mountain of white hair teased over a net, jewels glimmered on her neck, and she was wearing a gown that Wes suspected was worth more than her servants’ wages combined.
She flung her arms around Delauney’s neck.
“Our little Laney! We’re so pleased to see that you could make it.
Did Neddy bring you? Of course he did. Neddy, darling! ”
Wes felt Delauney’s grip tense on his arm tas the woman embraced Ned, who smiled politely. “Your mother?” Wes whispered.
“She’s harmless,” Delauney whispered back. “The one you need to brace yourself for is—”
“Lane!” A thin, reedy man in the same shade of violet as Delauney’s mother strode over to kiss Delauney’s cheek. “Both my boys in one place! Look at you! You’ve gained some weight since the last time I saw you, boy. Captain Ned’s feeding you well on the ship, eh?”
“Father,” Delauney said, in a tone Wes understood as Delauney on the verge, “I’m the captain of the Manatee.”
“Of course you are,” his father said. He looked at Wes long enough to give him a knowing wink.
“He’s been in command for over a decade,” Wes said, but Delauney’s father seemed to have already moved on.
“There’s the man who’s taken such good care of my Lane,” Delauney’s father said, turning to Ned. Ned’s polite smile was already brittle.
“The fuck was that?” Wes whispered in Delauney’s ear.
“They think Ned is humoring me,” Delauney whispered back.
“Why? Because you’re a submissive?”
Delauney shook his head tightly. “Let’s just see Leo.”
He practically towed Wes across the dance floor, where a tall, anxious-looking man stood by himself in the shadow of a statue.
He was undeniably Delauney’s brother, with the same light hair, painfully pale complexion, and soulful eyes, but he was a good half a head taller than Delauney, towering over most of the guests.
He met Delauney’s gaze with a look of such relief that Wes wondered if he’d been dragged there by force.
“Oh spirits, Mother and Father already found you,” Leo said.
Wes could only just catch the faintest hint of dominance in his tone, but it was muted, as though it were struggling to emerge behind the melancholic cloud that hovered around him.
Delauney released Wes to embrace him, and Leo clutched Delauney’s jacket. “You needn’t bear them on my account.”
“Well, you’re apparently getting married,” Delauney said. Leo sighed heavily.
“Yes. It was the best option for the Bellecourts, in the end. Anastasia and I drafted the agreement a few months ago.”
“Romantic of you,” Delauney said.
Leo laughed, but there was no mirth in it.
His gaze lit on Wes. “I’m terribly sorry.
I didn’t introduce myself whatsoever. I’m Leonide, Delauney’s older brother.
” He took Wes’ hand, and Wes was surprised to find ink stains on his cuff.
Somehow, that endeared him to Delauney’s lanky brother.
It was as though a real human was lying under all that finery, hidden among the squawking parrots crowding the ballroom.
“Wes.” Wes shook his hand firmly.
Leo smiled. “Just Wes?”
“Wesley Bradnell-FitzRoy Leonhart,” Delauney said. “He’s my... we’re...”
Leo’s brows raised. “Oh! You must really care for him if you accompanied him here,” Leo told Wes. “Perhaps we should retire somewhere private to catch up.”
“To hide, you mean,” Delauney said.
Leo gave him a pained look. “Is it hiding if I want to speak with my brother and his new man?”
“Yes,” Delauney said promptly.
“Have pity on him,” Wes murmured, eyeing Delauney’s parents as they cooed over Peter. “I would.”
“I like your fellow already,” Leo said. His face went, if anything, paler still. “Spirits help us, they found the king again.”
It was Wes’ turn to reach for Delauney as Delauney’s parents returned, bustling up with a skinny young man with a tint of red in his pale hair.
The only sign of his title was a signet ring on his right hand, but this was undeniably King Adrien, the man to whom Wes had signed a pledge of loyalty during his ascension to the throne.
Wes tried to draw back, unnerved, as King Adrien greeted Leo and took Delauney’s hand.
“Have you seen Sabre yet?” King Adrien asked Delauney, smiling at him as though they were fast friends.
“He’s in the garden, I think,” Delauney said.
King Adrien’s eyes shone. “That makes sense. I saw Laurent heading in that direction a few minutes ago. And who is this?” he asked, turning his bright smile on Wes.
“Wesley.” That wasn’t Delauney’s voice. It came from behind Adrien; a low, unfamiliar tone, rough-edged and laced with dominance. Wes’ gaze snapped up involuntarily, and he felt the air leave his chest at the sight of the stern, older man standing at Adrien’s back.
Adrien turned around. “Oh, Captain. Have you already been acquainted?”
“Something like that,” Wes said, as Captain Ferrin, Wes’ older brother and the head of the king’s personal guard, met his gaze.
“Your majesty,” Ferrin said, “allow me to introduce my brother, Wesley Leonhart.”