Commanding a Hearth

Anjou loitered in the kitchen until Sonnet dismissed her young helpers, then he hurried to catch at her sleeve. “We must speak,” he begged.

Her surprise, like her very manner, was mild. “I’m listening, Kindred.”

“This is a private matter.” And taking her hand, Anjou drew her toward the butler’s pantry.

She permitted his audacity, her expression quizzical, her tail slowly swaying. Pleased that all was proceeding smoothly, he closed the door behind them, warded it against interruption, and pushed himself up to sit on one of the counters, feet dangling.

Sonnet took a receptive posture. “What is it, love? Can I help you somehow?”

“Yes, but first … if you’ll forgive a touch of trickery?” And he banished the simple sigil he’d used to gain the impact he might need to secure this lady’s good opinion. “Help me to understand why someone I care about trembled to learn there was a wolf in the kitchen.”

She blinked and breathed deeply, then deeper still. Eyes wide, she whispered, “Jacques. You have been with Jacques?”

Anjou had always liked the little games that lovers played, and he smiled over finding two so startled and so smitten. More and more, he wanted a part in their future. But would a wolf tolerate the sorts of affections that were common to consorts? All he could do was try.

Beckoning her closer, Anjou murmured, “Don’t be shy, lady. Wolves like scents, yes?”

To his delight, she didn’t hold back, murmuring apologies as she pressed her nose to his neck. He tugged her closer, turned his head, and purred to encourage more nuzzling. Oh, he liked this lady. If such a mistress were to rule over him, he would be so free. Hadn’t the lovely Elara been similarly tempting? He’d allowed himself to imagine it … without much hope of finding such a one for his own. Yet here was Sonnet, and she was stealing a taste.

She muttered a husky, “Oh, I do beg your pardon.”

“Non. I will beg more.” He drew back, searched her face. “I came to you straight from his embrace. He sent a kiss. Do you want it?”

“You kissed him?”

“How could I help it?” Anjou readily confessed, “He called me reckless and put me off. Perhaps because his heart belongs to another? To you, yes?”

Sonnet’s cheeks bloomed with color. “He sent a kiss?”

“These are the games that consorts play. You will find me an amenable tom.”

“A kiss … for me,” she said wonderingly.

“Mmm. Take it.” He carefully drew her down, marveling when she allowed it. And then her lips were on his, and a growl bade him submit, and he shivered in surprised ecstasy. Even though he knew she was chasing after traces of another, he met her and matched her and mewed in disappointment when she finally drew back.

“Oh, love. I shouldn’t be kissing you.”

“You should.” Anjou clung as he pulled his scattered thoughts back into order. He’d come here with a plan, and he mustn’t abandon it. Brushing his lips against her rosy cheek, he earnestly said, “You should take me as your consort.”

“Anjou,” she said, gently putting him off.

He loved her voice. He loved her scent.

And more softly, “Anjou, wait. Not me. You can’t want me. I’m a wolf.”

“Mmm. You are dangerous in the nicest way.” He knew his tone, his scent, his everything was betraying him. “Oh, lady. Will you listen?”

She was a little warier now, but she repeated, “I’m listening, Kindred.”

“A star sent me. Or so I was told. A star sent me to Jacques.”

“Where is he?” Sonnet begged.

“His promise to Lord Mettlebright is the only thing that is keeping him from you. He must remain behind wards until … ah, who can say? The fox is cautious, but his reasons are good.”

“Is Jacques hurt?”

“No, lady. But turn your thoughts to my plight for a little longer? Or do you not care for the sending of stars?”

Sonnet bowed her head. “I do. My mother was born a Starmark. I’ve always caught the strains of starsong, even after becoming a wolf. Stars tell the truth.”

Anjou let himself hope. “Eiji has become consort to Minx. He was chosen, and he is happy with his new place and his good lady. I want a place, and I am begging for it. Be my lady mistress? Choose me.”

“Jacques is my choice.”

“Take me, too?”

“For … employment?” Her gaze slipped sideways. “You want a place in the kitchen?”

“You know that’s not it,” he chided. “For a tom like me, there must be a lady mistress. Choose me, and I’ll devote myself to you and to him. I’ll make such a hearth for you! And I’ll be grateful and gentle and generous.” He caressed her cheek. “You care for so many, but who cares for you? Be my lady, and I’ll be his man, and I will honor your wishes in all things.”

“We all belong to Stately House. Isn’t that enough?”

“Stately House is an enclave. Many are her households. Ours will be magnifique.”

“Anjou,” she sighed. “Do not run ahead.”

“I am too eager, perhaps. I want you.”

“Why?” she countered. “I’m not a cat to command you.”

“Is that not better?” he asked. “A tom can only await a lady’s whim. With you, I can freely choose. Is that not a truer love?”

“You don’t want a female?”

“Non! I do! I’ve always wanted a lady. Be mine?”

“Anjou,” she said again.

“Oui?” He loved hearing his name on her lips.

“You have to know I’m not ….” Sonnet gestured vaguely at herself. “I’m male for Jacques. His preference is for … well. He never kisses females.”

“Then this is perfect, no? Your first consort is peerless—your favorite, dearest to your heart. But in commanding a wider hearth, you have secured another ardent admirer. One who longs for his lady’s favor. Oh, the kisses we will share.” And stretching up, he brushed his lips across hers. “A lady must be adored.”

“Anjou,” she said again. But there was hesitation there. Confusion, as if startled by his suggestion. Or at herself. Then she shook her head. “I have responsibilities. My granddaughter, for one. Linnea is here for school.”

“I would accept any children at your hearth into my heart.”

“A cat and a mouse?” she asked, mild again in her amusement. Softening?

“Jacques will find it funny. Let us make him smile. He has been so sad.” Ah, his timing was good. He’d always been skilled at persuasion.

“I want to see him,” she confessed.

“Then we must apply to Suuzu Farroost. Let me? I could act as your go-between, if you will only trust me. A little now. More as you come to know me.”

Sonnet surprised him anew by touching his silver hair and murmuring, “You’re like a moonbeam.”

“A favorite of wolves?”

“What are your years? You must be young if no mistress has spoken for you.”

“No longer a child. But … that autumn voyage was my first consort call.” He wasn’t sure if moving on to ordinary things meant he was being considered … or dismissed. Anjou blurted the same thing he’d said to Jacques. “Give me a place, and I would give any vow.”

“Oh, love.” She enfolded him, and the embrace worried him.

“Please, lady. I’m not a child.”

“No, you are not. But you’re afraid.” She nuzzled his hair, stealing every secret in his scent. “You said Jacques is someone you care for. That you speak for him. That he sent you to me. How did you gain his trust?”

“He saved me.”

“You were in the place where all these little ones were captive?”

“Yes. I was captive, as well.” And realizing that he could spare Jacques the necessity, Anjou offered, “Will you hear this story? Jacques … he was courageous.”

“I want to hear everything. Nobody ever says enough. Tell me now, and then ….” She paused, lost in thought, then brightened. “And then you will bring Jacques a tray. And my return message.”

Jacques tipped his head to the side, trying to catch Suuzu’s eye. “Why so shy? You’re meant to be leading, yet your posture is meek at best.”

The phoenix’s gaze lifted to his, then slid away. “Is it not enough to learn the steps?”

“Non. You must never neglect your partner.”

“Akira is meant to be my partner.”

“I’m only taking his part in order to teach you yours. You wanted dance lessons.” He cautiously asked, “What is this? You’re protesting, but it’s token at best. Argent mentioned an allure. Am I affecting you?”

“You … are.”

“I see. I do apologize.” He let his hands fall to his sides. “Unforeseen consequences abound.”

Suuzu huddled there, practically hugging himself. “This is confusing.”

“So it does bother you? I thought ….” But Jacques closed his mouth and took a step back. The young phoenix didn’t want him, had never wanted him. But he’d never rejected him. “Are the seals no longer working properly?”

A startled glance. A soft cluck. Suuzu stepped closer. “What is this?” he muttered.

Jacques wasn’t sure if he’d asked the same question on purpose. But having lived cheek by jowl with each other since his return, it was almost impossible not to catch each other’s moods.

Suuzu asked, “What has happened?”

“I confuse you. I confuse myself. I haven’t changed at all, yet everything is different. And then … well. Today’s been rather much.”

“I will clarify. You confuse my instincts. I do not want to share courting dances with you. You are not Akira.” Suuzu was so earnest, so honest. “But when we move together, it is … hmm. I know it is only your new nature, but I am surprised at myself. You are not the one I want.”

“But you want me anyhow.”

“How do I keep you close and guard against you? It is … confusing.”

Jacques considered the floor. “At least you’re not afraid of me.”

Another soft cluck. Suuzu’s gaze was soft with concern when he repeated, “What has happened?”

“Hisoka. He rejected me. He was utterly paralyzed, yet on the verge of crashing out the nearest window. Like I was some kind of monster.”

Suuzu simply stepped up off the floor, gaining the height advantage he needed to pull Jacques against his chest. Tutting and clucking, he encouraged Jacques to lay his head over his heart, then began an unhurried preening session.

Jacques turned his face into Suuzu’s tunic, wrapped both arms around the phoenix’s slender waist, and confessed, “It was … it felt …. It hurt.”

His self-proclaimed nestmate didn’t say anything, but he proved he was near.

“Suuzu?”

“Hmm?”

Trying for an even, un-hurt tone, Jacques asked, “How long has Sonnet been back?”

“Mmm.” He took forever to think it through. “While I was last sleeping. Nearly a month …? She arrived with ….” He trailed off.

Jacques glanced up. “Lord, what’s wrong?”

“I … forgot.”

Jacques had to adjust his hold to bear up under the sudden weight of Suuzu slipping from midair. He quickstepped to the settee at the foot of the bed, and they ended in a graceless tangle upon its cushions. “I suspect it’s impolite for me to be privy to so many of your emotions. Why are you suddenly so flustered? I can tell it’s not me.”

Suuzu whispered, “Boniface.”

He hesitated in honest confusion. “There can’t be many of those lying about. Do you mean Bon-Bon? You met my brother?”

“I … I hired your brother. I think.” They stared at each other for several moments, and then Suuzu called, “Hajime?”

“Leafling,” warmly greeted the tree. “I knew you would not forget our friend.”

Jacques righted himself, but he still felt knocked sideways. “Did you just call Bon-Bon a friend? That’s as ridiculous as it is traitorous. Lord. How?”

Suuzu seemed to take the accusation of betrayal to heart, because he was on his knees in a moment, framing Jacques’ face with his hands, then pressing an urgent kiss to his lips. “I should have considered your feelings. Nonny did say you and this brother were at odds, but I was alone, and he was frightened. So when Argent made him my responsibility …!”

“Bon-Bon was here.”

“Yes. For a few weeks.” Suuzu shot a pleading look at Hajime.

“At that time, Suuzu was newly exposed to my pollen. Many conversations occurred while the three of us were together, and so he has forgotten.” The tree beamed at the phoenix. “You called for me. You remember me.”

“I do.” Suuzu touched Hajime’s hand. “Many of us do.”

Jacques knew there had been little time to compare notes with Argent, but a visit from Boniface seemed at least as important as Sonnet’s return.

“Including Jacques.” The tree admitted, “Naoki is curious why you and your brother are unaffected by my pollen.”

“I wouldn’t say unaffected.” Jacques let his fingertips trail over the nearest cluster of silken petals that festooned Hajime’s hair. “Your scent is decidedly … invigorating. Have I never forgotten you? I wouldn’t remember if I had. Did we ever test that theory?”

“I did not notice at the time of our meeting, but you knew me upon your return. That is beyond rare. Boniface distinguished himself in much the same way. Canarian wanted him for Hisoka, but Suuzu gained a greater portion of your brother’s trust. And so Stately House will claim him.”

Jacques couldn’t think of a single nice thing to say.

Suuzu was worried enough to bestow a pleading peck.

“Lord, I just … well, I mean … it’s Bon-Bon. He’s a prissy, self-important prig.”

To his surprise, the phoenix laughed. “He was no kinder in his assessment of you.”

“What did he call me?”

“Exhausting. Eccentric. Expensive.” With the hint of merriment in his eyes, Suuzu added, “He thinks you have the whole Amaranthine Council in your pocket.”

“Lord, that’s basically flattery.” A new thought occurred. “Did he actually come to see me?”

“Is that surprising?” Suuzu asked. “He is your brother.”

“It’s unprecedented. I’ve lived here for more than a decade.” At the phoenix’s slow blink, Jacques helpfully reminded, “In human terms, we’re estranged.”

“By choice or by consequence?”

Jacques had to ponder that. “Boniface doesn’t approve of me, but I think that’s more public stance than personal opinion. Maman dictates that sort of thing. But really, in those few times and places where she couldn’t intrude, it was us against her.”

Suuzu’s attention swerved, and Jacques knew what it meant.

A familiar rap preceded Akira through the door. “Look who I found!”

Anjou breezed inside, a tray held high and a carpet bag swinging from his other hand. “May I beg entry, good phoenix? I have things for Jacques.”

The tom looked brighter, happier. Joie de vivre had replaced his earlier desperation. Things must have gone well, and Anjou looked eager to share what he’d learned. So as soon as Suuzu abandoned him for Akira, Jacques patted the place at his side. “What have you brought me?”

With a swoop that somehow failed to rattle the cups and saucers, Anjou proffered the tray. Jacques accepted it, a smile on his face as he poked through the contents. Tea—his favorite blend. Teacups—her clan’s colors. A beribboned bud vase held a bouquet of paperwhites. And peeking under a tea towel, he found a basket of hot, fresh muffins.

“This seems out of place,” Jacques remarked, indicating the baby bottle.

“Non. All is as it should be,” Anjou assured, placing a kiss upon his cheek.

Grinning foolishly, Akira dragged over a footstool and moved the tray onto it. With similar radiance, Anjou set the carpet bag across Jacques’ knees.

“Lord, she didn’t.”

“The lady mistress, she sends good gifts.”

Jacques braced the baggage with extreme care, then pointed. “There’s a sigil just here. I can tell. Can you dispatch it?”

“The pleasure is mine.”

Suuzu drifted closer, looking increasingly mystified. Jacques undid fastenings and eased the bag open. From the center of the soft nest within, Ella blinked worriedly.

Akira laughed. “Somebody knows exactly what Jacques needs.”

He’d definitely been missing the children. Reaching for her, Jacques hesitated. “Will she be afraid? I’ve changed.”

“Don’t be silly,” countered Akira. “Ella loves you.”

The tiny crosser had noticed Anjou and began making the little whimpers that always led to a full-on squall. Jacques interrupted by scooping her up. “Ah, mon petit chou! Did you miss your Uncle Jackie?”

He stood, swaying with her toward the window, putting a little distance between her and those she didn’t realize she could trust. Murmuring to her in French, he praised her courage and Sonnet’s cleverness.

Her answering smile eased something in his heart.

And made him take a longer look at Anjou.