Page 53 of Fox of Fox Hall

“Ah.” Fox nodded in return, but it was absent.“And I suppose I should protect them as well. That will perhaps beuseful to know someday in the future.”

Falnya gestured with an open hand as if toappease him. “Of course, if you aren’t looking for love, then thatdoesn’t matter.”

Fox cut Falnya a look. “Does it matter toyou?”

In a victory of some kind, the question madeFalnya glance away. “I am suitable to be a bearer and would raise achild well, protecting the child from all threats. I am smart, andcapable, and would make a good consort.”

Fox believed it. “Not interested in love?”

“I would not say that. We byr are not all ascold as you imagine us. We can feel the stirrings of the heart, andpassion, and affection.Ihave felt those things.” Falnyalooked at Fox again. “But it’s unlikely that I would with him, andI don’t believe he’d want me to.”

“Passion?” Fox echoed with surprise, wonderingif Falnya meant desire or the greater passion that led to immediatematings. Then, before the rest of his thoughts had solidified, helooked out toward the knights and then back at Falnya. Being herejust after dawn to show support seemed like something someone inlove might do. “Shine?” he guessed.

He did not get a denial.

Falnya sighed. “Clever Fox.”

Fox shrugged. “Figuring out what people want—andwhat they want to hear—could determine if I ate that day ornot.”

Falnya looked at him, wide-eyed, then scoffed.But what he said was, “If you are loyal to him and plan on tellinghim, you may. There is no threat to him there. Shine does not feellove or passion for me. She has a heart like a sunrise but finds meconfusing. And stuffy, I believe.”

It could have been a lie, but Fox couldn’timagine anyone choosing this lie to appeal to him, or to anyone. Ifanything, it gave Domvoda a reason to reject Falnya and be donewith one of his Potentials. Which he would probably like.

That meant it was likely real, and for that, Foxhad to look away. Falnya did as well, leaving them both standingside by side to watch the distant knights.

“I thought you’d be the one to handle him thebest from the very first day,” Fox revealed. It was weighty praise,though not enough to soothe a yearning heart. “Conall too. That is,Byr Conall also thought so.” He cleared his throat unnecessarily.“I can also tell you that though she and I only spoke once, ByrShine considers you someone far greater and wiser than she willever be. You might hear that and think it makes no sense, so let methen tell you that you are both byr, but youareabove her.That is how the byr treat the knights, with few exceptions. All theknights know this, know their place. So Shine accepts this as sheaccepts that you might be consort to a king. Other people, you,might imagine whatever you like. She would never dream of reachingso high. I don’t know if she wants to,” Fox added quickly, notabout to start fires in dry grass. “But I don’t think it wouldoccur to her to try.”

When Falnya did not speak, Fox continued,“Perhaps if the byr spent less time imagining that commoners aredesperate to join them instead of simply wanting easier lives orthe chance to wear fine clothes, and focused instead on the passionsongs where ordinary people fight for their happiness, they wouldsee the world through new eyes.”

“Thereare the teeth,” Falnya remarked inan affected voice, facing away from Fox.

“Just so,” Fox agreed. “And they are why hekeeps me around.”

Falnya turned to Fox, unsmiling. “You should askByr Conall about that.” Then he inclined his head. “The kingplanned to arrive early as well. We should probably wait for him inthe box.” He gestured gracefully for Fox to join him and walkedslowly in that direction until Fox reached his side. They continuedon in silence.

ChapterTwenty-Two

The mock-battle began once the sun had fullyrisen and from there carried on without end, a cacophony that couldnot be ignored no matter which direction Fox turned. His neckached, then his shoulders with how stiffly he sat. He kept to theback of the king’s box, gaze down, fiddling with the shade he’dleft there the day before. He tried to keep his tail still, butwhen he couldn’t, swept it safely out of sight behind his seat. Hebarely noticed the heat although his skin prickled with sweatbeneath his doublet.

The day had to be hotter than the day before, afact which should have meant the battle would finish earlier withmore knights falling victim to fatigue. Should have, yet didnot.

The others in the box felt the heat as well, ormaybe that was the rising tension as the contest continued. Somemock-battles in the past had lasted until sunset. Fox and everyoneelse had been informed of this by the oldest of the knights in thebox. Fox assumed the fact was meant to be comforting, a testamentto the skill and determination of all the knights on the field.

Fox had found himself exchanging a glance withByr Falnya before he’d turned away again.

He was grateful he didn’t own a far-glass tobetter watch the action, and that for some of the battle, Domvodawould ride out to observe from less of a distance; a privilegeafforded the king and certain members of the byr who could not betold no.

Several of the others in the king’s box hadfar-glasses, including two of the knights, who provided moredetails of the battle to entertain those like Fox who could onlysee the broad strokes: a charge, a surge through a line, a rescue.The quartet of knights jumped to their feet often, sometimes inconcern when someone was thrown or knocked from a horse, othertimes to shout encouragement the knights on the field couldn’tpossibly hear. Then, of course, concerned with Fox’s delicatenature, the older knights would turn around to explain to him whathad happened.

It wascute, in a way, that theyearnestly believed Fox in need of care. It was also irritating,since Fox had told them several times that he did not find itsoothing to have events described to him, much less hearing aboutinjuries so he would “know he had little to worry about.”

At least they didn’t pretend there wasnothingto worry about. Bruising was inevitable, bothglancing and deep. Sprains as well, along with pulls, aches, andcuts. That was the worst of it… at first. Then the heat and theexhaustion began to wear on even the youngest and strongestknights. They slowed. They made mistakes. Some grew careless.

The mock-battle, like a real one, did not breakfor rests or meals. It would stop when victory was achieved.

Hours passed.

Sometimes, Fox stared at the knights chargingand flowing around smaller, individual fights like currents in astream moving around rocks. He tried to distinguish who was whodespite the distance and the mud and dust now coating much of theirarmor, but even the blue and white of their surcoats were blurringto brown and gray with occasional splashes of red, a sight whichmade Fox turn away again. Conall was in white. Fox knew because hisolder knight honor guard had mentioned the colors for eachside.

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