Page 22 of Fox of Fox Hall

The benches around him slowly began to be usedagain, the handful of returned knights full of chatter now that thetournament felt more real to them. They were admiring armor—orflirting, or perhaps flirtingandadmiring armor—andpraising those who had demonstrated their skill. A few of themgreeted Fox and apologized for scaring him.

He had no idea how to address that and chose notto other than bobbing his head to acknowledge that they meant well.He had more on his mind than the tournament anyway. He had prickedhis finger with the needle for the third time and was lashing histail over it when Conall sat on the bench next to him.

He left space between them, because Fox was notone of Conall’s close friends and because Conall was cautious asonly time around Domvoda could make a person. Fox lashed his tailagain. He finally got the fool button on and jabbed the needleviciously into a pincushion in an act of revenge. He didn’t twitchunder Conall’s warm regard because he was used to the eyes of thecourt on him, but after a while, he did look over.

He was about to ask, “What?” assnappishly as possible because hecouldbe snappish withConall, but Conall’s eyes were closed. He was slouched, one arm upon the back of the bench seat, the other next to him, his legsspread. He was even smiling faintly as he rested.

“How are you so calm?” Fox demanded withoutthinking.

Conall opened his eyes to give Fox a sidewayslook. “I’m accustomed to tension and pressure.”

Fox understood that. “Even so,” he arguedalthough he had no reason to. “You know what all that was reallyabout as well as I do.” Yet was Conall content. He was calm. He wasstaring at Fox with perplexing emotions in his eyes that he did notexplain.

“Fox,” Conall began with irritating patience, “Iwould like to win, but if I lose, I lose. If he thinks to upset tome with a reminder of my possible loss, I am already aware of it,so his desires do not matter. As for the rest of what bothers you,very rarely would any real harm come to me in a tournament, or toany of us for that matter. You looked pained all day and stillpained now when I arrived.” He leaned slightly closer to Fox andlowered his voice to ask, “Are you well? Not hurt or too soretoday?”

Fox raised his chin and twitched his tail tomake it thump against the bench seat. “A little knotting isn’tgoing to break me.”

“Little?” Conall echoed, eyebrowshigh.

Fox gave him a more direct look, then turned hishead when he felt the urge to smile. “Not so little,” he admittedquietly.Four knots.If Fox really thought about it, hemight swoon. “And thank you.”

Conall huffed. “No need for that.” He seemedmore amused than offended and studied Fox for several moments in away that did not make Fox’s shoulders tense. “You’re still upset,”he remarked softly. “Is this truly about me and the others, or didhe say something to you?”

Fox wrinkled his nose as he turned back toConall. “He wants my opinion on who will win. He means the knightsbut, I believe, also his possible consorts. And….” The rest ofFox’s unease was harder to explain. “He wants something else fromme but I don’t know what. More than my attention. A fight?” heguessed. “Like the young knights?” Fox shook his head to deny thatthe moment he said it. “But I doubt he cares enough about thePotentials—the potential consorts to be that anxious over thematter.”

Conall pursed his lips but offered nocomment.

“I think,” Fox went on hesitantly, because healso suspected Domvoda wanted to get him alone, even if he wasbeing strangely indirect about it, “he expects….” He shook his headagain and frowned, not wanting to speak the words. “I don’t want totalk about it.”

“What can I do to help?”

Fox stared at Conall with wide eyes and receivedwarmth in return. “You don’t—”have to, he should havefinished, but couldn’t say that, either. “Help? You?” he askedhaughtily instead. “Youkept me up so late I didn’t get toproperly style my hair.”

Conall moved his tail languidly over the benchseat. “And yet half the byr couldn’t take their eyes off you,including me.”

He put the fire in the fireplace to shame.

“That’s a risk,” Fox reminded him, mouthdry.

Conall’s shrug was so dismissive that itreminded Fox of why he was agitated in the first place and kept himfrom saying anything foolish. Conallshouldbe concerned butFox would be concerned for him since the Dragonslayer wasapparently too brave to manage sense.

“Well,” Fox said as frostily as possible forsomeone who wanted to climb the person next to him, “the braidingis too tight and it pulls.” He gestured at his sore scalp todemonstrate, but as he did, realized he was not within the confinesof Saravar anymore and thus didn’t need to maintain appearances,and set aside his sewing to take his hair down.

A large hand appeared in front of him, palm up,so he placed pins and the ribbon in it before shaking out the messof curls and waves leftover from the braid. When he straightened,Conall was watching him intently and several others were glancinghis way.

Fox held out his hand to Conall to receive hispins and ribbon, then put them with his sewing things. Conalldidcare for curls. Fox squirmed inwardly like the he hadthe first time one of the other workers on the Hetin farm hadcalled him pretty.

“If you could see yourself now, you’d knowDomvoda is not after a fight with you,” Conall said lowly, hiswarmth once again a full conflagration.

Fox met his eyes and then couldn’t anymore. “Idon’t….”

When he didn’t say anything else, Conall seemedalmost worried. “I’ve never seen you hesitate over wordsbefore.”

“I don’t know what to say!” Fox flung out a handand spoke too loudly. He pulled in a breath to make himself atleastsoundcalmer. “People expect me to. And to be witty,or…”

“Clever?” Conall finished.

“Yes.” Fox hissed it. “You don’t seem to, but Idon’t know what youdowant me to say.”

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