He almost wept again when Cathal gathered him into his arms. “Cathal—”
“Shh. You were coming to me?”
“Yes.”
“Then sleep now.” Cathal kissed him. “We’ll talk about everything else tomorrow.”
CATHAL DIDN’T think he had ever been so afraid as he had the night before. Hearing Flavian scream, seeing those men trying to carry him off… he never wanted to experience terror like that again. But he was proud too that even outnumbered and without weapons Flavian hadn’t stopped fighting.
And he had called for Cathal to help him.
Cathal was reluctant to leave his bed after spending the night sleeping only fitfully next to Flavian. Flavian was still deeply asleep, not even stirring when Cathal brushed a gentle hand over his hair. With a kiss to Flavian’s forehead, Cathal forced himself from the bed. He bathed and dressed and returned to the bedchamber to find that Flavian hadn’t moved. After watching Flavian sleep for a moment, Cathal pulled the blankets up a little higher on Flavian’s chest, hiding the bruises that still made Cathal’s blood boil.
He closed the bedchamber door behind himself, careful to be quiet. When he let himself out into the corridor, he was comforted to find two guards outside his door. Cathal could leave him knowing Flavian would be safe.
Both Philip and Amory were in their study with Etan when Cathal arrived.
“Cathal, are you all right?” Etan asked, hurrying over to grip Cathal’s arm.
“Fine, thank you. I’m fine.” He was, because Flavian was warm and safe in his bed.
“And Flavian?” Amory asked.
“Bruised, and Jadis wants him to rest today, to not put weight on his knee, which Flavian isn’t thrilled about, but all told, he’s all right.”
“Good,” Philip said.
“Do we know what happened?” Cathal asked as Philip waved him to a chair. He could feel the heat of rage rising inside him at just the thought of last night. “Who they were. How they found him. How they got inside the palace. I want to talk to them.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Amory said as he settled on the edge of Philip’s desk. “You’re a bit too angry. Not that I don’t understand it, but we don’t want you injuring them. However much they deserve it.”
Cathal opened his mouth to protest, despite the wisdom of Amory’s words, but Philip spoke before Cathal could.
“We already spoke to them. We know how they found Flavian and how they got to him.” Philip’s face darkened with anger as he said it, and Amory laid a hand on his shoulder. “The leader is our missing spy. The two others he hired for the night to help him abduct Flavian. They knew what they were meant to do, but nothing else.”
“And none of them seemed to think the abduction would be particularly difficult,” Etan said as he dropped into the chair beside Cathal’s. “But then, I doubt they expected Flavian to be able to put up much of a fight against three men, let alone a huge cat coming to his aid.”
Cathal nodded in response to his brother’s questioning look. Neither he nor Flavian had mentioned Cathal using magic last night, but he’d thought Philip and Amory would understand what wasn’t said.
“But how did they get to Flavian? How did they know he was here in the first place?”
“The Ardunnian had cultivated a relationship with a maid who works here in the palace. We assume it was in case Velia wasn’t able to provide them with enough information, or perhaps he put his plan into motion before Velia was sent here,” Amory said. “Either way, the maid must have said something about Flavian, and he realized who Flavian is.”
“The maid let him in. She thought it was an assignation. He wanted to see the palace. She wanted to please him.” Philip’s voice was full of pity and disgust. “She must have talked about the guard schedules as well, because they timed it perfectly. Going for Flavian as the guard shift changed when they were less likely to be caught.”
“They planned to take him unaware while he slept,” Amory added. “Flavian surprised them by being awake and out. Surprise probably helped him hold them off. Still, he was lucky you got there when you did.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Cathal said.
He stayed, discussing the events of the night before and how they affected the problem with Ardunn, but he was anxious to check on Flavian the entire time. Everyone had to know he wanted to be somewhere else, but he did his best to focus on the discussion. It was important, and he knew Flavian was fine, or safe anyway.
“Go,” Philip told him after a while, his eyes full of understanding. “We can finish this discussion later.”
Cathal nearly refused, nearly protested that he was perfectly capable of putting his responsibilities ahead of what he wanted. But Flavian was important. Maybe more important than anything. Cathal nodded his thanks.
The guards were still stationed outside the door to his suite. One of them opened the door to admit him while the other told him that everything had been quiet. The door closed behind him as Cathal glanced around. The sitting room was empty, so he continued into the bedchamber.
Awake and dressed, Flavian was on the bed, leaning on pillows propped against the headboard, another pillow under his knee. The remains of breakfast sat on a tray on the nightstand. Flavian was sketching, which was no surprise, but he looked up when Cathal stepped inside and smiled. The smile was small, almost shy, and one he had never seen from Flavian, but it was a smile.
“How are you feeling?” Cathal asked, hesitating near the door.
“All right. A little sore.” Flavian shifted restlessly and glanced away. “The healer told me to rest in bed today, but I can go back to my own bedchamber. I should.”
“No, stay. If you want. I’d like you to stay.”
The smile flitted across Flavian’s face again, and he nodded. Quiet stretched between them for long moments. When Flavian finally spoke, Cathal jumped.
“I’m sorry,” Flavian said. “For what I said the other night. I’m sorry.”
“Is that why you were coming here last night?”
Flavian nodded.
“All right. But, why did you say it, Flavian? I don’t understand how you could think it.” And it had hurt—it still hurt—that Flavian had.
“I’m sorry,” Flavian repeated. “Velia said some things to me when I went to see her. I shouldn’t have listened, but I just… you could be with anyone you want, especially now that you aren’t betrothed to Velia. I could never understand why you wanted me. I’m nothing special.”
“You are. You’re special to me.”
“I am? Still? Even after….”
A half smile quirked Cathal’s lips against his will. “Yes, even after that.”
“And do you still want to be with me? Like you said. Before.” Flavian’s fingers plucked at the covers of the bed. He glanced at Cathal, then down at his fingers.
“Yes, I still want to be with you.” Cathal smiled when Flavian looked back up at him quickly, hope shining in his eyes. “But not exactly the way I said before.”
The hope dimmed a little, but Flavian didn’t look away. “Then how?”
He walked into the room and perched on the bed at Flavian’s hip. He stared into Flavian’s eyes, the cerulean eyes that had enthralled him from the first. “I thought we could marry.”
Flavian stared at him, blinked, stared some more. “I’m sorry… did you say marry?”
Cathal tried to bite back a smile, but it was difficult with how adorably shocked Flavian was. “Yes, I did. I want to marry you.”
“But, you never….”
He took Flavian’s hand. “When I asked you to stay with me, I had to marry Velia. That’s the only reason I didn’t ask you to marry me then. I always wanted more for us than your being the lover outside my marriage, but I didn’t think we could have it.”
“I—I know. I just didn’t realize the more you wanted was marriage.”
“I love you, Flavian. Yes, I want to marry you, to share my life with you.” Cathal fel
t his own hopes dim. “Do you not want to marry me?”
“It’s not that. I’d never thought about it. I never thought it would be possible, the way everything was.”
“And now?” he prompted.
“Cathal, I love you.” As joy rushed through Cathal, Flavian shook his head. “What about your father and heirs for the title and an advantageous marriage? Your duty to your family.”
“I thought I would leave producing heirs to Vrai, and I think the most advantageous marriage I could make would be with someone I love. Whether my father likes it or not.” Cathal shrugged. There was still a part of him that cared what Father thought, but not a big enough part to keep him from going after what he wanted, what made him happy. “I don’t much care. Do you?”
Flavian grinned. “Not at all. I love you.”
“I love you too. So… will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
Cathal felt as if he might just burst from the joy. He was laughing as he kissed Flavian. “I bet I can make resting in bed a little more enjoyable.”
Flavian’s smile turned wicked. “I bet you can.”
He took the pencil and sketchbook from Flavian to put them on the nightstand, but then he saw what—who—Flavian had been drawing when Cathal interrupted him, and he stopped. Stared. The good, the bad, all of it there for him to see. “Is that how you see me?”
Flavian leaned over to see what was on the page. “That’s how you are. I love how you are.”
Cathal couldn’t quite manage to get words out past the lump in his throat. He set the sketchbook aside and kissed Flavian again, thrilling as Flavian’s arms wrapped around him, as their bodies pressed together. As he realized that he got to have this, to have Flavian, for the rest of his life.
More from Antonia Aquilante
A Tale of Tournai
Legends tell of large cats defending the principality of Tournai, but such creatures have been lost to time.
Or have they?
Prince Philip inherited the throne at a young age, and since then, his life has centered around ruling his country and resisting those pressuring him to take a wife and conceive an heir—forcing him to hide his attraction to men. When kind-hearted Amory is offered to the prince in exchange for more time for Amory’s father to complete a commission, both Philip and Amory are horrified. But Philip agrees to keep Amory at the palace, where they gradually become friends, then lovers. For the first time in his life, Philip is free to share not only his heart, but the magical shape-shifting ability that runs in the royal bloodline.
Neither Amory nor Philip imagined falling in love, and they certainly don’t expect the lengths those who oppose their relationship will go to keep them apart—maybe even resorting to murder.
ANTONIA AQUILANTE has been making up stories for as long as she can remember and, at the age of twelve, decided she would be a writer when she grew up. After many years and a few career detours, she has returned to that original plan. Her stories have changed over the years, but one thing has remained consistent—they all end in happily ever after.
She has a fondness for travel (and a long list of places she wants to visit and revisit), taking photos, family history, fabulous shoes, baking treats that she shares with friends and family, and of course reading. She usually has at least two books started at once and never goes anywhere without her Kindle. Though she is a convert to eBooks, she still loves paper books the best, and there are a couple thousand of them residing in her home with her.
Born and raised in New Jersey, she is living there again after years in Washington, DC, and North Carolina for school and work. She enjoys being back in the Garden State but admits to being tempted every so often to run away from home and live in Italy.
Twitter: @antoniaquilante
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AntoniaAquilanteAuthor
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.antoniaaquilante.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Artist’s Masquerade
© 2015 Antonia Aquilante.
Cover Art
© 2015 Anne Cain.
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Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
ISBN: 978-1-63476-748-4
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-749-1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015950526
First Edition December 2015
Printed in the United States of America
The Artist’s Masquerade Page 34