Page 63 of Fox of Fox Hall

Fox raised those hands to his stinging cheeksand closed his eyes to feel giddy and young. Then, because it wasthe final day of the tournament and he had no idea what wasexpected of him but had to find out, went to his trunks to choosean outfit.

He anticipated some hostility at the cold-waterbaths and the small kitchens, but Kaladas was quiet, most of theknights having risen before dawn despite the revels of the previousevening. The few who were around observed Fox coming and goingwithout comment, probably wondering why Conall had allowed him tostay. Fox, who had been told the answer, treated them politely butavoided meeting their eyes as he returned to Conall’s room.

He wore his pink and red doublet and shortbreeches with the hose adorned with foxes, and had no time to domuch more with his hair than pin up parts of it so that a fewcurling wisps fell strategically around his ears and into his eyes,the rest of his curls bouncing how they pleased. The entire looksaid he had spent the night in bed and been so exhausted that he’dslept late and hadn’t bothered to really attend to his hair. Thetruth, although not the truth people would imagine, not for theFox.

A legend was a poor thing to hold to. It feltespecially poor the morning after Conall’s beautiful words.

And his dangerous offer.

For most of his life, even when starving ortrudging through the rain in search of shelter, Fox would have saidhe didn’t need saving. That he’d managed. Now… now he thought ofConall, and what Byr Falnya had told him, and even of Byr Dinsuggesting tea, and he was less certain. But he didn’t see howConall could make a story come true.

Fox stood there another moment, useless andscared and shivering, then stepped into a pair of slippers, grabbedhis lute, and left for Saravar. He would be barred from entry orpermitted to stay, but until he knew which, he didn’t allow histhoughts to travel beyond where to put his feet to get there. Oneafter the other, like he was trying with the last of his strengthto reach a village before night fell.

Everything Fox had said and done in hisagitation the day before was a shadow at the edge of his awareness,but he kept his eyes straight ahead as he reached the receivingrooms.

Byr waited there, chatting with a growing numberof knights in gleaming armor. Fox drew attention he didn’tacknowledge, slipping through the mass of bodies without waiting tosee if anyone would move to grant him space. He went to the dais,standing carefully to the side as if it were any other day.

Domvoda hadn’t arrived yet, although hispotential consorts, including Matlin Loriloft, were at the front ofthe crowd. The only one to so much as glance in Fox’s direction wasByr Din. Byr Din stood alone and silent, very nearly the image ofthe sweet-natured and biddable fertile that his family wanted himto be. Except he’d twisted and pinned his hair up at the top of hishead, not a strand out of place, and wore no adornments, somethingthat made him seem slightly less sweet. Fox wondered whose ideathat had been instead of focusing on his own worries, then happenedto glance away right as several knights walked in to the receivingrooms.

Conall was one of them.

Conall went to his place on the other side ofthe dais, where he stood whenever he did his duty at court or thereceiving rooms. Like the other knights, he was in armor, whichseemed too much to be worn indoors on a summer day. But as withthose other knights, his armor was possibly the most expensivething he owned. He wore it well. Fox could look at it now withoutworrying about violence to come. But mail and shoulder guards onlycaptured his attention for the second before the image on the frontof Conall’s surcoat sent such a jolt through him that Fox wasgrateful his lute was on his back or he would have dropped it.

On Conall’s chest, a red fox stood on its hindlegs, two crossed long-axes behind it. Below it, at Conall’s belt,was the knife with the fox head on the hilt.Thatfox Conallhad continued to wear during Fox’s time at court. The first, Conallhad set aside for Fox’s sake.

Until today.

Fox raised his head, expecting to find Conall’sattention on him and yet still unprepared for it. His skin stung asif he stood in the full sun at midday. He was probably pinker thanhis ribbons, although that was a distant embarrassment, then not anembarrassment the longer Conall stared at him.

Fox flung out his tail to try to be rid of someof his sudden energy. He could move forward in an answer to thatlook and have Conall in his arms again, and Conall’s tail in hishands, and that red fox where he could kiss it to thank it for itssacrifice. He pulled in an unsteady breath.

The door on the opposite side of the daisopened. Two of Domvoda’s advisors came in, each of them carrying atray that held the prize purses for the tournament winners. Visiblebehind them through the open door was the king.

With no time to think of a better position, Foxleft his tail down and to one side without the tip turned upward. Abland, meaningless pose that couldn’t possibly offend anyonedespite being called the Bent Foxtail.

Domvoda paused once inside the rooms, his tailelegantly curved behind him, his doublet blue with silver thread tomatch the crown of silver and dragon egg shell he wore today tohonor the winners. He looked over one half of the knights and otherbyr, inclining his head to them like the charming king he wascapable of being. He turned to do the same to the second half ofthe room only to pause again when his gaze fell on Fox.

Fox didn’t move.

Domvoda stared at him for one moment more, thennodded regally to the rest of those in the rooms. He came to thefront edge of the dais, his advisors on either side of him.

“Once again, I must praise each and every one ofyou for the strength, stamina, and courage you showed during mytournament.” Domvoda began quietly, solemnly, saving his warmth forthe brief smile he gave to a trio of knights who happened to benearest the dais. “Each of you are welcome at the tables of my halltonight, and I know I will not be the only one pleased to see youthere. With so many of you already preparing to leave, off to yourhomes or to other tournaments, I hope you will at least stop toenjoy yourselves this evening.”

Fox didn’t think he imagined the yearning sighfrom one of the knights in the front. He didn’t try to identifywhich one. It didn’t matter. Domvoda would find them willing if hewanted them. It might even put the king in a better mood. Not thatFox could determine that.

The advisors called for the tournament championsto come forward, but Domvoda was the one who named each of themwithout having to be told. He was also generous, offering smiles toseveral of the knights and lavishing compliments on Byr Rolfi andsome others. By the time Byr Drashnal stood before the king,everyone new to Domvoda’s court was probably half in love withDomvoda and choosing to forget his previous sulking and ill-humor.Drashnal himself might not have been won over, but Fox doubted itwith the close to bashful way the knight ducked his head whenDomvoda spoke to him.

It was not the first time Fox had witnessedDomvoda behaving like a king from a story, but it was the firsttime he had done so after hearing someone else recount how Domvodahad done that with Fox. He still couldn’t tell which parts weregenuine—how Domvoda was when actually interested in what he wasdoing and how much was calculated. Though it would make nodifference to Byr Drashnal if he found himself broken-hearted andhumiliated outside the closed doors of Domvoda’s bedchamber.

Then Domvoda turned to look across the dais andFox’s efforts not to stare were wasted.

Conall bowed his head at the implicit commandand came around to stand before the king.

Despite the dais giving Domvoda added height,Conall remained a mountain, perhaps even more so in his recentlyused armor. Dirt and mud had been wiped off but it didn’t shine assome of the others’ armor did. Maybe Conall had meant to see tothat last night but had chosen sleep and Fox instead.

At the thought, Fox glanced to the side ofConall’s face but Conall seemed to have no problem keeping his eyesaway from Fox. Neither did Domvoda, who smiled for Conall as he hadsmiled for Drashnal.

“How your family will be pleased to hear of yourvictory yesterday, Byr Conall.” Domvoda was cool despite the smile.“It was a testament to your skill and planning, as well as thedaring you inspired in the knights under your command. But it isyour cunning that will amuse your bearer and sister. A trueVulpets—a legacy I see you have decided to embrace once again.”Domvoda gestured to Conall’s surcoat. Not a word was said to orabout Fox, but Fox felt gazes swing to him.

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