CATHAL RAPPED on the door of Philip’s private study, entering only when he heard Philip call out. He bowed briefly and strode across the room to where Philip sat behind his desk. “This just arrived for you from Marcus.”
Philip took the message and easily broke the black wax sealing it. Cathal couldn’t have done it and hadn’t tried. He’d recognized the distinctive wax and imprinted seal immediately as spelled for the princes’ eyes. Only Philip or Amory would ever be able to open a message sealed in that way with that wax. Philip unfolded the crisp paper and skimmed the message inside, then went back and read it once more from the beginning.
He looked up and offered the letter back to Cathal. “They’ve apprehended one of Ardunn’s spies in Jumelle.”
Cathal sat in a chair in front of Philip’s desk and read through the letter quickly. The missive was concise yet informative, the security of the seal allowing the writer to share more information than would be possible otherwise. He skimmed the report of the spy’s capture, knowing the important part was that the man had been captured, and they could see what they could get out of him about Ardunn’s plans and the presence of other spies in Tournai.
“This is good news,” he said.
Philip nodded. “It will be even better if we can use it to rid ourselves of the other spies.”
“Yes. If anyone can get us that information, Marcus can.” The man was skilled at interrogation and had a strong Talent that lent itself to brewing truth potions.
Philip nodded again. “I doubt Ardunn sent anyone who would break easily under questioning, but you’re right. Marcus is the best we have. He’ll get everything he can.”
Cathal folded the message and returned it to Philip, who locked it in a desk drawer. The lock was also spelled, but Cathal could open it.
“I want you to observe the questioning for me,” Philip said.
Cathal looked at Philip, surprised. It wasn’t the first time he would have done such a thing for Philip, but it was the first time Philip had asked since Cathal’s betrayal of trust. “Marcus will make a thorough report to you.”
“I know. But I value your observations and opinions.” Philip watched him steadily. “There isn’t anyone else I want there, since I can’t go myself.”
Cathal was speechless for a moment. The task was a tangible display of Philip’s trust, and that meant more to Cathal than he could say. He cleared his throat. “Of course. Thank you, Your Highness.”
Philip rolled his eyes, as he always did when Cathal addressed him that way instead of by name. “Go. Report back to me this evening.”
“Yes, Philip.” He gave his cousin a slight bow, ignoring Philip’s second eye roll, and left the study. He sent a servant to the stables so his horse could be readied and strode to his suite to retrieve his cloak and riding gloves. On his way to the stables, he met Etan.
“Where are you off to, brother?” Etan asked with a smile. He was his good-natured self, but Cathal could see a shadow of sorrow in his eyes. Cathal wanted to hurt Tristan, though he doubted Tristan knew the pain he’d caused by following his father’s wishes.
“Philip asked me to observe the questioning of an Ardunnian spy.” He kept his voice low, not wanting the information to find its way around the palace and, by extension, the city quite yet. He was well aware of how quickly information flew through Jumelle.
Etan raised a brow. “We’ve caught one, then?”
“Yes, today. Marcus is doing the questioning.”
Something like sympathy came into Etan’s eyes, but then Etan knew Cathal didn’t particularly like observing these events. Torture was illegal in Tournai, but interrogations were not pleasant affairs. “Would you like me to come with you?”
He wouldn’t mind Etan’s company, but Etan hated these tasks even more than Cathal did. “Thank you, but no. Stay here in case Philip or Amory needs anything. I don’t know how long this will take. And please convey my regrets to Lady Velia and….”
“And Lady Flavia?” Etan’s arch look was a bit too knowing. It almost made Cathal regret telling his brother anything.
“Yes, thank you,” he said, ignoring Etan’s antics.
“I’ll be sure to tell them. And I’m certain you’ll be missed… by at least one of them.”
“I wonder.” Cathal turned and walked away, Etan’s laughter following him, but he hadn’t been joking. He wasn’t certain Velia or Flavian would miss him when he wasn’t there. And he hated that he was more concerned that Flavian might not care if Cathal wasn’t present than that Velia might not. Flavian’s thinking was a mystery to Cathal. He thought Flavian was opening up, that he liked being around Cathal, but then Flavian would turn prickly and snappish again, and Cathal thought everything he’d believed before was a figment of his imagination.
Sometimes he wondered why he bothered. Flavian was a frustrating, difficult man, and Cathal knew nothing could come of their affair. But he couldn’t bring himself to give up on him. Every time he thought to, he remembered Flavian smiling or lost in passion or vulnerable or caught up in wonder. He wanted more of those moments. He wanted to know that man.
And he couldn’t lock that desire away for some reason. There was something about Flavian, but Cathal hadn’t figured out exactly what it was that kept him so fascinated.
His musings about Flavian occupied his mind during the ride through the city. His confusion hadn’t lessened one bit when he reached his destination, but at least he hadn’t spent the trip dreading what lay at the end of it. The spy was being held in a building that was part of the harbor fortifications. Cathal dismounted outside the stone building and handed his horse’s reins to the young guard stationed outside. His horse was taken away to the small stable behind the building as Cathal took a deep breath and ducked inside.
Chapter 18
IT WAS hours later when Cathal stepped outside the building again. Night had fallen and brought with it a slight chill that made Cathal glad for his cloak. Or perhaps the chill came from within, and everything he had heard from the spy.
The interrogation had been long and difficult. The spy still refused to give up the names and locations of other spies in Tournai. But they weren’t finished with him. And Cathal had faith in Marcus. The man was at least twenty years older than Cathal, and though he was of noble birth, Marcus had worked for years to gain experience and attain the position he had with Philip. Sooner or later, Marcus would learn all there was to know from their captured spy.
Cathal took the reins to his horse from the young man who brought him out, nodding his thanks. He stepped back but didn’t return to the stable as Cathal mounted up. Cathal caught the covert way the young man watched him, but did his best not to show that he’d noticed nor his surprise at the attention.
The young, dark-haired soldier really was quite handsome, tall with the unexpected flash of a smile. If Cathal hadn’t been so taken with Flavian, he would have been tempted to take him up on his silent offer. Perhaps if Cathal had met him before he met Flavian… well, then he would have ignored the attraction until it went away. Cathal sighed.
Turning his thoughts to the interrogation he’d just witnessed, he guided his horse through the quiet streets. It wasn’t that late; there were still people about in the taverns, leaving the theaters. But he avoided the more heavily trafficked entertainment districts and kept to the quieter residential areas for the ride back to the palace. Negotiating inebriated revelers did not sound pleasant after the day he’d had.
His route took him past the street where Father’s home was located, but he didn’t stop. He needed to tell Philip what happened, and really, Cathal didn’t live there anymore. Since he’d returned to the palace and his position with Philip, he hadn’t spent a night under Father’s roof. Cathal didn’t miss it—he missed his mother and sisters, certainly, but not living in such close proximity to his father. He much preferred the freedom of the palace.
The guards let him in the palace at the main gate. After leaving his horse with a sta
blehand, Cathal went directly to Philip and Amory’s suite. He bypassed Philip’s study, knowing that at this time of night, when Philip and Amory didn’t have a social engagement or an emergency in the governance of Tournai, he would find Philip in their suite. Cathal hated to interrupt what he knew was time with his husband and son that Philip held dear, but Philip wouldn’t want him to wait until morning.
He knocked on the suite’s door and entered at Amory’s call. There was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice that Cathal could discern even though the words were muffled. When he walked inside, he found Philip and Amory on the couch, Amory curled into Philip’s side, one of Philip’s arms holding him there as he tried to rise. Amory was smiling, his gaze filled with affection as he looked at Philip, and Cathal was suddenly hit with a bolt of something like jealousy. Not that Philip had Amory, though Amory was certainly beautiful, but that Philip and Amory had that bond. Theirs was a marriage of love and support. And for the first time maybe, Cathal admitted how much he wanted that for himself.
“Cathal, come in,” Amory said, turning his smile on Cathal. “Sit. Let me get you a drink.”
Cathal tossed his cloak over the back of a chair and sat, watching as Amory extricated himself from Philip’s arms with a kiss and walked to a cabinet against the wall. Amory ignored the wine that he and Philip were drinking and poured Cathal a glass of plaire, the pale gold liquor unique to Tournai.
“Looked like you could use it,” Amory said as he handed Cathal the delicate glass, then returned to his seat beside Philip.
“Thank you.” He sipped, denying the urge to gulp it all down and let the warmth of the gold-colored liquid fill him.
“A difficult one, I take it?” Philip asked as he wound an arm around Amory once more, pulling his husband to his side. Amory smiled indulgently and allowed himself to be tugged close, even snuggled a little closer himself. Neither man seemed self-conscious at Cathal’s presence, but then, they never did. From the beginning, Philip and Amory had had no problem showing their affection for each other.
Cathal felt that pang of jealousy again, unexpected and unwanted. But there was no denying it. He wanted to have that affection with someone, someone who would sit with him like that despite the presence of others.
And the image that formed with that nebulous want was of himself with Flavian curled at his side, snuggled under his arm. He could almost feel it, Flavian’s warm body against his, his soft hair rubbing against Cathal’s cheek.
He pushed that vivid picture aside roughly. He couldn’t want with Flavian what Philip had with Amory. He could not. He ignored the voice inside telling him he obviously already did, but it made him feel even more out of sorts.
He realized he had been quiet too long when he saw concern settle into Philip’s face. “Yes, a bit difficult. Marcus believes he’ll get more out of the spy with further questioning, but it’s going to take his deft skill to do it. This spy is good.”
“Did you get anything out of him?” Philip asked, the question and tone all prince, though his relaxed posture never changed.
Cathal nodded. “He was certainly sent by Ardunn, and there are two others here, but he hasn’t told us anything about them except that they arrived at different times. We gather, from what he implied, they aren’t working together, not really. They seem to have different missions, different methods. They pass information, but we haven’t been able to get how or where or when out of him.”
“Anything else?”
“He passes easily for a citizen of Tournai, not just that but of a particular area just north of Jumelle. The accent, the dialect, the dress—everything was perfectly done. No one would take him for anything else. I get the impression that at least one of his fellow spies is doing the same.” Cathal paused for a moment, thinking back on the somewhat disturbing man they had questioned for so long. He said slowly, “He seemed smug, almost taunting. As if they had truly tricked us.”
“Well, if they do have someone in the palace….”
Cathal nodded as Amory trailed off. “Perhaps it is that. Marcus and his men are going through everything they found in his lodgings tonight. Hopefully, we’ll find something useful among his possessions and papers.”
“You’ll keep in contact with Marcus as the questioning continues.”
Philip hadn’t asked a question, but Cathal nodded anyway. “Certainly. I’ll have a full report of today’s questioning, including my impressions, first thing in the morning.”
“Good. Thank you,” Philip said. “Now go get some sleep. You look as if you could use it. The report doesn’t have to be first thing as long as I have it in the morning.”
Cathal agreed, but he knew, and he knew Philip knew, that the report would be on Philip’s desk when the man arrived there after breakfast the next morning. He left Philip and Amory to the rest of their evening together, closing the door on the cozy scene he had interrupted and hoping the closed door would shut away his odd feelings on the subject as well. But he doubted he would be so lucky as to have those feelings disappear.
His plan had been to go back to his suite, perhaps soak in the tub and then sleep, but he couldn’t get the odd and ridiculous longing for Flavian to be there out of his head. So he turned his steps toward his office. Etan wasn’t likely to be there at this hour, but Cathal wouldn’t mind the quiet. Perhaps if he wrote his report for Philip, it would distract him enough for him to return to his bedchamber and sleep without disturbing thoughts of things he couldn’t have.
He lit the lamps in the empty office and settled at his desk. But before he could do more than find ink, the office door opened, and Father walked in without even a knock to announce his presence. Cathal sank back in his chair with a sigh. The lack of a knock wasn’t a surprise, but Father’s presence was. He hadn’t known his father was in the palace tonight. He wondered if Philip and Amory knew.
“Good evening, Father,” he said, breaking the silence. Father could easily say nothing for long periods of time and just stare in a way that communicated his disapproval. Cathal was too tired for it tonight.
“Cathal.”
“I didn’t realize you were here.” He kept his voice even and hoped Father would tell Cathal what he needed without it turning into a lecture.
“Well, I am. I dined with your betrothed and Willem and his wife this evening.” Father fixed him with a hard stare. “Where you should have been.”
“My absence was unavoidable, but I apologize, Father, and I conveyed my regrets to Lady Velia and the duke and duchess already. I had to be out of the palace on business for the prince.”
Father scoffed. “Business for the prince? Please. You make it sound as if he ever gives you anything of worth to do. You’ve turned into your cousin’s errand boy.”
Cathal gaped at his father before catching himself and snapping his mouth shut. “Everything I do to serve the prince has worth.”
“I can’t tell if you’re lying to me or if you’re really that deluded.” Father shook his head. “You should be in a far higher position in the prince’s government. You deserve a higher position, especially now that your cousin has seen fit to remove me as a royal advisor. Your cousin gives you nothing of importance to do. Perhaps if you used your position, and what information you have access to, to further the rest of our family, it might be worthwhile, but you don’t even do that. It’s as if you don’t care, as if you have no ambition whatsoever.”
“I have plenty of ambition, Father,” he said, his voice stiff even to his own ears. But he valued his position at Philip’s side, more so now that he’d deserted it and been given a second chance. He valued even more the trust Philip had in him. Cathal might have been wearied by the day’s events, but he never would have turned down the task. “And my position with Philip is important.”
“You’re a glorified secretary. Hardly glorified at that. I don’t understand you, Cathal.” Disappointment was plainly written across Father’s face.
But disappointment on Father’s fa
ce was a familiar sight for Cathal. It wasn’t the first time he had seen it directed at him and probably wouldn’t be the last. It seemed no matter what Cathal did, how hard he tried, Father always found some reason to be disappointed with him. Father always found fault with something or found something more that Cathal should be doing. Cathal tried to remember times when Father had been pleased or proud… but they seemed far fewer than the others.
Was there a point in Cathal’s life when Father had ever been truly happy with his eldest son?
“Cathal, are you listening to me?”
He focused on his father again, seeing the disappointment mixed with annoyance, and at that moment, Cathal couldn’t care less. “I’m listening. And you don’t have to understand me. I have done everything I could to please you, to make you proud of your son and heir, to do my duty. But you’re never satisfied. Whatever you think, I do important work for Philip. I am honored to have his trust.”
Cathal rose from his chair, all thoughts of putting together his report tonight forgotten. “It’s time for me to retire for the night, and I think it’s time for you to be on your way home.”
Father sputtered. “You do not dismiss me. We are not finished with this discussion.”
“I wasn’t aware this was a discussion. But it’s late, and whatever this is, it’s over.” Cathal walked past his father to the door, holding it open and standing to the side. “And since this is my office, I can ask you to leave.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight. We are not finished. We’ll discuss this further when you’re more rational.” Father swept past Cathal out the door and strode down the hall.
Cathal let himself sag. He hadn’t needed that tonight. After extinguishing the lamps, he strode out of the office. He hesitated when he reached one of the guards stationed in the corridor, but he stopped and quickly told the guard to make sure Father had left the palace. It was best if Father returned home immediately.
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