Page 27 of Fox of Fox Hall

“Such an annoyed expression on your lovelyface,” Conall observed, bringing Fox’s head back up. “Are you trulyfurious or do you just want to be? I can apologize again.”

He had no right to be amusing. Fox had beencontemplating a lonely night and now he wasn’t and it was upsettingin some way he would be willing to ignore if Conall kissed him.Conall, unfortunately, did no such thing.

He ran up a ticklish touch up the side of Fox’sneck to the wisps of Fox’s hair that had fallen from his braidingand asked, “Your hair was all right today? No pulling? I know youdidn’t get a chance to style it as you usually do, but this lookreally does flatter you. Now you’re making the face again.What?”

He genuinely didn’t know. First, he rememberedwhat Fox had briefly complained about the night before, then hegave compliments,andhe was still not kissing Fox.

That was no reason for the smile to win out, yetit did. Fox flicked his tail back and forth to hopefully distractConall from this. “You’re interfering with my routines.”

“I can go,” Conall offered in return, althoughhe didn’t actually move to leave even before Fox gripped his shirttighter to keep him there. Laughter lightened his voice. “Worth afew routines, am I?”

“You’re very smug today,” Fox told him with asmuch ice as he could manage. “Did you smash some other knight intothe dirt while sparring?”

“I did, as a matter of fact.” Conall strokedFox’s neck again, slowly, waiting until Fox’s shivers ended beforecontinuing. “Though notquiteas you put it. And I gotsmashed into the dirt a bit myself—nothing serious, don’t worry.”Fox jerked back before the words were out, sweeping a frowning lookover the parts of Conall he could see. It earned him anotherfeather-light touch along his throat to his collarbone, Conall’sthumb lingering over the marks from the night before. “He’squick—Drashnal,” Conall filled Fox in although his gaze was on hisfingertips on Fox’s neck.

“And quite popular.” Fox huffed despite hisshivers. “You don’t want to go down there to talk to him? I wouldunderstand.” His tone made it clear he would not understand and thedoor would remain closed if Conall tried to return after leavinghim to talk with some knight. “His ears and tail are quitestriking.”

Conall’s slow smile was warm but also as smug ashis earlier words. “They are, but nothing to you and this.” Hepaused to touch Fox’s braid, where Fox had put a white rose fromthe garden and forgotten about it until that very moment. Theflower had to be wilted by now. “I expect Byr Din will have a rosein his hair tomorrow.”

Fox twitched his tail in flattered delightbefore he saw the shadow of Conall’s words. He regarded Conallwarily. Conall didn’t seem like someone to trade in court gossip,although he probably wanted reliable information on what the kingwas doing. Fox could understand that. But knowingthatmuchabout Byr Din meant Conall was well-informed indeed. If Conall knewthat much, he might even know what Domvoda had said, and hinted,and that Conall’s presence here with fucking on his mind wasperhaps even more of a risk for him now.

The fool stayed where he was.

Conall grew serious when Fox’s tension didn’tleave him. “Was your day too much? The heat? The pressure? Iimagine no one bothered to hide their stares.”

Fox released a shuddering breath but didn’t lookaway. “I don’t care, you understand?” He needed at least one personto know that. “Not how people think I do.” He wasn’t pining. Hewasn’t eaten alive with envy at never being chosen as consort—Foxhad never once thought that would happen because he wasn’t byr andhe knew passion stories of royalty and commoners mating weren’treal. He didn’t burn with jealousy at the thought of Domvodafucking or knotting someone else. If he ever had, it had been longago. He looked into Conall’s eyes. “But everyone is watching me andit’s like carrying a weight that grows heavier each day. No onewants to be replaceable, which you know too well. It was close tothe same thing watching them discuss you and Drashnal, and… youknow, it would be helpful if Byr Drashnal was less polite so he’dbe easier to dislike.”

“You want to dislike him?” Conall seemedstartled but only for the second before his smugness returned. “Onmy behalf? Ah, forgive me, Fox, but I’m going to kiss you now.” Yethe paused to raise an eyebrow and did no kissing. “Unless you havesome objection.”

“Late,” Fox snapped at him again.

Conall took Fox’s face in his hands and leaneddown to bestow a kiss upon his brow, and when Fox gazedreproachfully up at him, smiled before placing a kiss on his mouthas well. He followed this kiss with another, soft on Fox’s partedlips, but inched back when Fox rose onto the balls of his feet topush forward. He was still smiling, still staring down fondly asFox gazed up, but he did notkiss.

“I bet Byr Drashnal would kiss me,” Fox informedhim and enjoyed the briefly wounded look he got in return.

“He’s quick,” Conall said again as if that meantsomething. “I bet he’d kiss me too if I asked. And yet here Iam…”

“Here you are,” Fox interrupted, shoving asidethoughts of Conall and Drashnal, their strong bodies in intimatepositions, “notkissing me.”

“The Fox is needy for kisses today,” Conallsaid, but it didn’t feel teasing when Conall followed it bybrushing silly, ridiculous kisses over Fox’s eyes and eyelashesbefore pressing one lighter than a spider’s web to Fox’s lips. “I’msorry,” he breathed, tipping Fox’s chin up to kiss him again. “Iforgot what a hard day you had.”

“I… didn’t.” Fox couldn’t do more than whisperand hold still as he was kissed and kissed, Conall taking a littlemore from him each time: Fox’s breath, the tip of his tongue, thesoftening of Fox’s lips as Fox waited for the next one. “Hard day?”Many people had harder days than his. “I sat or stood, listeningto,” a kiss briefly stopped him, “music, or talk, or…Conall.

“Hungry Fox.” Conall sucked Fox’s bottom lip.Fox reached out, holding onto Conall with both hands to stay on hisfeet. “In your red and white, with your cherry lips, and strawberryhair, and that rose, daring them to try to taste you and no onedid. You poor thing.”

His sources of information were either poetic orConall had thoughts about Fox’s clothes that Fox had neverguessed.

“They’re scared of me, a little,” Fox admitted,tipping his head up and getting a kiss for that too.

“I’m not.” Conall slid a hand to the back ofFox’s neck and studied Fox’s wide eyes and well-kissed mouth withvisible satisfaction. “They want to be like you or be in you, likehe does, but you draggedmethrough the door.”

Conall was entirely too pleased with himself,Fox decided, while letting Conall continue to devour him with hiseyes. “I could also throw you out,” Fox reminded him seriouslyenough, because he was no byr plaything. He pushed lightly againstConall’s shoulder to demonstrate how he would do it.

The flash of discomfort on Conall’s face and thetension beneath Fox’s palm had Fox dropping down onto the soles ofhis feet to tug at Conall’s shirt. “You’re hurt? Bruised?”Smashed into the dirt a bit. Fox should’ve known.

“Yes.” Conall took Fox’s hand and moved it up tohis shoulder before bending down as if to continue kissing. “Don’tworry about it, really. It’s barely anything.”

“‘Barely anything’ that all the other knightsprobably saw you receive,” Fox guessed sharply, stopping Conall’skiss before it happened. “They’ll hit you there first during thetournament, won’t they?” Knights were still byr after all, andwinning meant money and an enhanced reputation, which meantpossibly more money in the future.

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