Page 38 of Fox of Fox Hall

Conall knocked before entering his own room, anunnecessary act of politeness that made Fox’s heart beat faster,although Fox huffed ostentatiously once he called for Conall tocome in. He had left Conall downstairs and hurried up here toattend to his nighttime routine in private, but had only managed toget through part of it before Conall had knocked.

The second Conall was inside the room, Foxshushed him before he could say a word.

“What?” Fox demanded, too defensively but thatcouldn’t be helped. “And close the door.”

Conall closed it, then stood for a moment towatch Fox finish smoothing a cream into his face and down his neck.Fox, seated on the edge of the bed with various jars, combs, and amirror next to him, raised his eyebrows, daring Conall tocomment.

“Your skinisvery soft,” Conall remarkedat last. “I expected something but admittedly not this.”

Thiswas a cream, pale violet in coloralthough the color faded as Fox finished rubbing it in.

“Half of the reason anyone tolerates me isbecause I’m pretty,” Fox told him stiffly, grateful he’d alreadyused the light oil to keep his legs and arms and tail pleasinglysoft as well. “That requires effort.”

“Like maintaining a sword,” Conall agreed,coming into the room to sit at the head of the bed. He started toremove his boots, glancing curiously at Fox a few times as hedid.

Fox was in a nightshirt and nothing else. Hewiped the last of the cream from his hands and then began to workon his hair, unraveling his braid and all its ribbons.

Conall got his boots off, then picked up the jarof face cream to sniff it. “I didn’t want to ask in front ofeveryone in case it would upset you, but was there something ofyour own you wanted to sing?”

“Ohno.” Fox took the jar back becausethe contents were expensive. “I don’t share those. At least, nothere. Not at court. A public house is a friendlier place toexperiment.”

Conall nodded in understanding. “If you wantedto, I would listen. I like to hear you sing.”

Fox ducked his head to comb out his hair andcoincidentally keep Conall from seeing his blush. “Is that why youchose that song earlier?”The General and the Princewastruly not a short song, nor an easy one.

“One of the reasons,” Conall said, sighing whenFox sat up to flip his hair back.

Fox stared at him, then asked, “May I see yourknife? The one you wear to court?”

Conall raised his eyebrows at the request butgot up to find the knife and then unsheathed it to hand it toFox.

Fox hadn’t realized it was more than a simpleblade meant for defense. The hilt was silver and gold inlaid intodark, almost black, enamel, in a design of… flowers with a fox headat the center.

“A gift given a long time ago,” Conallexplained. “My family name in the ancient tongue means ‘foxlike.’You didn’t know?” As if anyone knew ancient tongues exceptscholars. “I had a feeling you didn’t and no one told you.” Conallhadn’t either until now, but he didn’t go on to tell Fox why. Heanswered Fox’s other unspoken question. “This was from Domvoda,which is why he allows me to carry it in his presence.”

Domvoda rarely gave gifts. Fox had questions butheld them in.

“It’s beautiful,” he admitted instead, findingit difficult to tear his gaze from the pointed ears of the tinyfox. “Is it sharp?”

“What good would it be dull?” Conall wonderedimmediately, then reached out in horror or surprise when Fox pulleda section of his hair straight and used the knife to cut throughit.

Fox combed out another section, then repeatedthe action, getting the length to just above his shoulder beforedeciding he needed the mirror again. He glanced to Conall, whowatched Fox’s hair fall to the floor with wide eyes but saidnothing.

“Could you please hold the mirror up for me?”Fox asked quietly, which at least prodded Conall to action. He keptthe small hand mirror steady while Fox trimmed some more and madesure everything was even. He still wasn’t speaking. “Nothing tosay?” Fox pressed as he finished.

“It’s not my hair.” But Conall had liked itlong, had been fond of touching it and combing it with hisfingers.

Fox had liked that too, and Conall’s warm gazeon him whenever he saw it styled it differently. He met Conall’seyes above the mirror and very nearly assured him that it wouldgrow back, that Fox also preferred it long. Then he realized thatthinking ahead to fall or winter or next spring was a foolish wasteof time. Conall could have grown tired of him by then, or Fox mightbe banished from court at last. It was better not to think of it atall. There were plenty of other aspects of the future to worry overinstead.

“It’s what many knights do, is it not?” Foxasked as a way to explain himself. “Cut their hair before acompetition like this, so no one can use a length of hair againstthem? I’d like to see Byr Din do this and not look ridiculous as aresult.”

“This is for him?” Conall let Fox take themirror and then bent down to gather the fallen locks of Fox’s hairand bring them to the table by the door.

“And the rest of them. I have to keep them ontheir toes.” Fox went back to studying his much shorter hair, whichhad more waves and even stronger hints of curls without the rest ofhis hair to weigh it down. His hair curled on its own but loosely.It now reached beneath the base of his ears and felt a thousandtimes lighter.

He grabbed a jar of a nearly weightless oil tomassage into his hair, ensuring it would stay soft while enhancingthe existing curls. Then he slid from the bed to go to one of histrunks. Conall watched him all the while, not sitting down again.His silence was making Fox nervous.

“You don’t like it?” Fox finally asked, thoughhe certainly hadn’t meant to. He shook his head to make shining,especially silky waves and curls bounce and brush his ears. Onecurl fell across his forehead into his eyes.

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