Page 5 of Pet


  There was nowhere to sit. Ancel stepped up and simply straddled the Regent’s lap, twining arms around the man’s neck. He heard the murmurs as he did it, and lifted his chin, brazenly. He met the Regent’s gaze, his body language like a claim, like ownership.

  ‘You are exotic, aren’t you,’ said the Regent, and touched his hair. Red, like the regency.

  ‘I’m one of a kind, Your Highness,’ said Ancel. The other title was on his lips. Your Majesty. The Regent felt like a king. The Regent’s other arm settled about his waist.

  ‘Tell me about your master,’ the Regent said. ‘Lord Berenger.’

  ‘He’s boring,’ said Ancel. ‘Serious. Loyal.’

  ‘Loyal to my nephew,’ said the Regent. He spoke pleasantly, tweaking Ancel’s hair as he did so. The sharp tug hurt.

  ‘Loyal to the throne.’ Ancel’s heart had started beating faster.

  ‘I’ve heard he’s met with my nephew, several times. What was discussed?’

  ‘I couldn’t say. I wasn’t there for the meetings.’ He kept his tone light.

  ‘So there were meetings.’

  His mouth felt dry suddenly, and it was hard to swallow. He thought of Berenger in the hall somewhere behind him, wondered if Berenger was looking at him, thought he probably wasn’t.

  ‘No. I mean that I don’t know—I don’t know what meetings he’s taken.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ The tone was disappointed. ‘I thought you were clever.’

  The Regent shifted, forcing Ancel to reposition, awkwardly. He was motioning for one of the servants to approach, looking past Ancel as though he was done with him.

  ‘I am.’ Ancel’s heart was pounding. ‘You just haven’t asked the right question.’

  ‘And what’s that,’ said the Regent.

  ‘If I’m loyal,’ said Ancel.

  ‘And are you?’ said the Regent.

  ‘Very,’ said Ancel. ‘To the highest bidder. That’s what a pet is.’ He made his words soft, like velvet. ‘Berenger owns my contract today, but tomorrow…?’

  ‘I admire your enterprise,’ said the Regent. ‘Look around this court. I’ll arrange a contract with whoever you like—’

  The servant had arrived, with a silver tray full of sweets. The Regent took one, then held it, between thumb and forefinger, in front of Ancel’s lips. ‘—if you’re good.’

  Ancel leaned in and ate the sweet from the Regent’s fingers. He did it holding the Regent’s gaze. The Regent smiled, and brushed some powdered sugar from Ancel’s lips with his thumb.

  ‘Your pet is very obliging,’ said the Regent, as he returned Ancel to Berenger at the end of the night. ‘We’ve spent a wonderful night, talking.’

  ‘Your Highness.’ Berenger bowed low. His face was wiped of all expression.

  They walked back to Berenger’s rooms together in silence. Ancel didn’t take his arm as had been his custom. It was late enough that there was no one in the passages or on the stairs. Ancel could hear the echo of every step. Their presence seemed unbearably loud, though Berenger said nothing to him at all.

  Inside their rooms, Berenger dismissed him with a shake of his head. Ancel watched him turn away, watched him enter the darkened part of the rooms that held his bed, beginning to unlace his own jacket.

  ‘I didn’t tell him anything.’

  The words were a blurt, delivered to the back of Berenger’s shoulders. Berenger’s movement came to a halt.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘About you and the Prince. That you’ve been meeting secretly each night. That you’re taking his side, that you’ve offered him funding and passage through Varenne, I didn’t tell him any of that, I thought that you—’

  Berenger turned. Berenger was across the room, his hands on Ancel’s arms, gripping him tightly, his eyes boring into Ancel’s.

  ‘Stop it. You’re spoiling my clothes. I didn’t tell him. I told you. I didn’t tell him anything.’

  Berenger didn’t let go. Berenger eyes were searching his face.

  ‘How do you know about any of that?’

  ‘Just because I like nice things, and don’t read the boring books you like, doesn’t mean I’m stup—’

  ‘This isn’t a game, Ancel.’

  ‘I’m trying to secure my future! I need to go somewhere. After you—after you end my contract. The Regent’s the most powerful man at court. Why shouldn’t I try to better myself? But I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t tell him anything about you. You’ve always been—generous—you gave me gifts, and I thought you—’

  Berenger released him roughly, and moved two steps off. ‘So that’s it. You want gifts?’ Berenger said, in a flat, deadly voice, ‘Are you trying to blackmail me for money?’

  Ancel felt his mouth turn to sand. ‘No.’

  Berenger didn’t turn back to face him. ‘There are lives at stake. I’ll give you whatever you want to keep my dealings private.’

  ‘I don’t want—I told you, I didn’t tell him anything. I wouldn’t. I was your pet, I thought we—I don’t want your money like that—’

  Ancel’s chest hurt. Berenger turned as Ancel said the last words, and when their eyes met, Ancel couldn’t look away.

  Was he going to beg?

  ‘You must hate me.’

  ‘Hate you?’ said Berenger. ‘Why would I hate you? You’ve always been honest with me. You never tried to hide what you were.’

  ‘A whore,’ said Ancel.

  Berenger didn’t argue. Berenger didn’t say anything at all, just looked back at him. Ancel lifted his chin.

  ‘So what if I am? I’m not ashamed of it. I’m good at it. I can make men want me.’ His voice felt raw. ‘It just doesn’t work on you.’

  He thought, in the silence that followed, that it didn’t matter. Tomorrow he would have a new patron. He would go to his room, where he would pack his things, the clothes, the paint, the gifts, and Berenger would be just one more owner, one more man from his past, one more name on a list.

  There was a hard pressure in his chest that he had to ignore. He would turn and walk away from it, he would move on to the next man, and the next.

  ‘It works on me,’ said Berenger.

  The words, in Berenger’s honest voice, at first didn’t make sense. Ancel didn’t understand it, it was too close to his own hopes. The look in Berenger’s eyes was like the tone in his voice, painfully honest. Ancel’s heart was beating wildly.

  ‘You’ve never—’

  ‘You never wanted me to.’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ said Ancel.

  ‘Yes,’ said Berenger, steadily.

  The stark truth of it hung between them. Ancel knew it, and yet he knew also the confusion that he’d felt, when Berenger had kissed him, knew the hot, sharp feeling at the thought of Berenger ending his contract.

  ‘Don’t give me up,’ said Ancel.

  ‘Ancel, I’m going to be supporting the Prince’s claim to the throne. There’s every chance he’ll fail, his supporters cast out as traitors—I can’t guarantee you a life, a future.’ Berenger was shaking his head. ‘If the Regent prevails, I won’t have money or lands. You should be with someone who can give you the luxuries you deserve, not someone who’ll embroil you in—’

  ‘That’s why?’ said Ancel. ‘That’s why you decided to break my contract?’

  He made sense of that much. And he clung to it. He wanted to ask, Does that mean you’re not giving me up because you don’t want me? He didn’t know how to ask that. He was usually so good at asking for what he wanted.

  ‘Can you honestly tell me that you’d want to stay with me if it meant risking your position?’ Berenger said. ‘If I had no money?’

  ‘I’ve never fucked anyone without it being for money.’

  The words came out differently than he’d intended. The painfully straight
forward way that Berenger had asked him that question meant that Ancel had given an honest answer.

  It was Berenger who spoke. ‘When I saw you in the ring, I thought you were incredible. You were fearless, powerful. You took on every lord in the room, and beat them. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’

  ‘You want me, too,’ said Ancel.

  ‘Ancel—’

  ‘When we kissed, you—’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t care what might happen.’ He was moving forward, because Berenger wanted him. He couldn’t keep the way that made him feel out of his voice, the pleasure of it, the new confidence. ‘You’re not poor now. You can afford me.’

  Berenger was shaking his head. ‘Ancel, I’m not poor now. But if the Prince fails—’

  ‘If he fails,’ said Ancel. He was stepping into Berenger’s space. He put his hand on the laces of Berenger’s jacket, and Berenger didn’t move away. ‘But if he wins?’

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  ALSO BY C.S. PACAT

  THE CAPTIVE PRINCE TRILOGY

  Captive Prince

  Prince’s Gambit

  Kings Rising

  CAPTIVE PRINCE SHORT STORIES

  Green but for a Season

  The Summer Palace

  The Adventures of Charls, the Veretian Cloth Merchant

  Pet

  FENCE

  Fence

 


 

  C. S. Pacat, Pet

 


 

 
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