Page 5 of Fox of Fox Hall

His blush, which was from embarrassment, had toonlybe from embarrassment if asked, spread down his neckand heated his ears, doubtlessly turning them a darker colorinstead of pale, rosy pink. Fox should have grown past blushes ortrained himself to react less, but he’d never been able to entirelyrid himself of them. His nature, he supposed. He was far tooreceptive to hide it.

Most of his lovers had enjoyed the evidence ofhis strong reactions. But it was hardly a useful trait now withsomeone like Byr Conall, who would likely never condescend to stuffthe king’s pathetically abandoned knot-warmer.

The thought was a mistake. Fox belatedly torehis gaze away to blush at the floor, then, with sudden horror,glance toward the open doors to the garden. But the king and theothers remained out of sight. He and the Dragonslayer werealone.

Fox remained decidedly damp and hot but took adeep breath before turning back to the knight who clearly hadsomething to say to him.

He didn’t need to wait so patiently, Fox thoughtwaspishly, a bitter, frowning fox who had no business aroundheroes.

“Well?” he demanded, raising his head. Hedropped his tail toward the ground, letting it rest since surelyByr Conall did not care what poses Fox knew. “Am I in your way? HasDomvoda sent you to kick me out on my ass? Perhaps you’d like theroom I was given and you need me to move?” Foolish, reckless thingsto say but Fox said them anyway. At least, he said most of them. Hestopped midway through the last sentence when he could hear thetension making his voice high and shaky.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your moment ofquiet,” Byr Conall answered evenly, unafraid of kings or tiredmusicians. “There will be few of those in the coming days.”

“And yet you did,” Fox pointed out, quite thenasty vixen. Domvoda had been right; today, Fox bit. He had done sotwice now, both times to someone who might not have deserved it,even if they had been born byr. Byr Conall truly did not. Theothers had laughed at him too, and for what? The simple surcoat anddoublet? The missing piece of his ear? Because his mere presenceleft half of them quaking with the knowledge of how useless theywere and left the other half dripping with slick?

Or so Fox assumed. The nobles couldn’t be thatoblivious.

Wait. Yes, they could. Domvoda liked them thatway, though he got bored with them quickly, always moving on to newfavorites.

Fox had no idea what Conall thought of that. Hesuspected many things, but he had no proof, and it was a waste oftime to even wonder. Fox just… had more time these days to ponderuseless things.

He pushed out a breath and rose gracefully tohis feet. “You might also enjoy some quiet,” he apologized withoutapologizing. “The week will be strenuous for you in particular. Ishould leave you to peaceful silence.”

Which was almost a kindness. Yet not enough forsomeone who had stepped in to save him today. Guilty, Fox looked upagain.

Byr Conall had a strange expression on his face,a frown without anger behind it, but shook his head and the frownvanished.

“You have no idea what an offer of peacefulsilence means to a knight before a tournament such as this,” heexplained, though Fox had not asked. “The younger knights areespecially nervous and it makes them rowdy.”

“Ah,” Fox said, becausethatheunderstood. He should not have said anything, but rather movedalong quickly before they were seen together, before byr wouldgossip and titter and Domvoda would wonder and possibly beangry.

Byr Conall spoke again, as if he didn’t worryabout any of that when of course he did, because this was more thanthey had ever spoken directly to each other in the near to threeyears Fox had been at court. “The older knights are there to helpsteady them, but most of the contestants are young, often theyoungest of many siblings, and tournaments offer them a way to maketheir names and perhaps begin their futures. This year, the verylarge prizes have added to the pressure.” His gaze was warm,probably naturally so, and no reason for Fox to grip his lutetighter. “Enough gold to fulfill many dreams. Which of course addsto the energy around where the knights are quartered.”

Fox shivered and shivered, inside and out, whichmade no sense the more heated he grew, except that Byr Conall had alow, quiet voice and he would not look away, and Fox had neverexperienced so much of him at once.

Fox had done so deliberately, not that itmattered now. He wondered if his fingers had disturbed his hairwhen he had put his head in his hands, and if he should fix it, orif Byr Conall did not care for curls in the first place.

Fox was fifteen again it seemed, and for thesecond time today.

He ought to demand to know why Byr Conall wastelling him this. What he said was, “Fractious young nobles do notsound appealing,” in an agreeable tone, and ignored that he was thesame age as many of those young nobles. Then he glanced toward thedoors again. Byr Conall did as well this time. He was a noble toobut didn’t comment on Fox’s words.

Fox, who ought to walk away, to rest and feedhimself and plan, stood there, watching the mountain consider thedoors and probably the absent king.

“Are you staying with the young knights?” Foxheard himself asking with real surprise and then deep dismay. Ifthe hero was being forced into poorer quarters, then Fox definitelywould as well.

“I do every year.” Byr Conall inclined his headas he returned his attention to Fox. “It’s near the horses andequipment, and easier than fighting for a place within Saravar’sguest rooms.” He paused. “It is also sometimes smiled upon byDomvoda to offer before one is told. I suspect it makes him feelgenerous although he’s done nothing.”

Despite himself, Fox gulped down a scandalizedbreath. “Thosewords,” he murmured, still nearly breathlessat the honesty in them.

As if he hadn’t heard Fox, Byr Conall continued.“It is, as I said, hardly a peaceful spot. However, there is spacethere. Rooms small and simple, but rooms nonetheless.” He pausedagain. “Unless there is a summer rainstorm wet enough to soak thefields. Then the knights who prefer to stay out near the tournamentgrounds will return to the castle for shelter and there will be norooms left for anyone.”

“Oh. Rainstorms.” Fox nodded to show he finallygrasped what Byr Conall and Domvoda had been silently arguing aboutearlier. Then he pulled his lute to his chest and looked up to themountaintop and the gaze that had remained steady on him forseveral long moments.

“Rooms meant for byr,” Byr Conall went on, sogently that Fox nearly shivered again, “if not especially honoredones. But rooms anyone might use.”

I could sleep in a barn, Fox almost toldhim, his chest tight, his body flaming hot with embarrassment againand then something hurtful and good.I could sleep on the floorby the fire but they will judge me and I can’t bear that.Hethought it all without speaking or even moving his tail an inch,yet felt as if Byr Conall knew it already.

Of course he did. He had just offered Fox aplace to stay.

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