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Six

Yves had spent the night in Charon’s room more times than he could count, but this was the first time he’d woken up in Charon’s bed.

He was tucked in the cool, light covers, with his favorite blanket from the couch draped over his shoulders, and a plate with an egg tart, toast, and fruit sat on the bedside table.

If this was the way he’d be rewarded for giving a blowjob to a friend, Yves was about to start being very generous.

He sat up and checked the window just in case Charon was out in the garden, but the only people there were Johan and Oleander with the cat.

Charon had no reason to stick around, of course—Yves had told him that it hadn’t meant anything, after all—but Yves couldn’t help himself.

He tied his robe, grabbed the breakfast tray, and slipped out of Charon’s room.

He didn’t need to go far to find Charon.

He was downstairs, along with half the House of Onyx, an exhausted-looking Laurent, and most of Yves’ suitors.

They were all crowding around a woman with curly blond hair and a white gown embroidered with strawberries.

Lord Marteau had her hands in his and was speaking warmly into her ear, and Laurent was being accosted by Lord Yeltsey, who kept pointing at the stairs where Yves was standing.

Raul hunched in the back, looking anxious and lost. The woman with Lord Marteau looked up, and Yves gripped his tray tightly with both hands.

“Oh,” Yves said. “Hello, Pearl.”

Pearl was Yves’ youngest sister, barely nineteen and cursed with enormous eyes that made her look perpetually lost. She stood and ran up to Yves, who had to juggle the tray to give her a confused, one-armed hug.

“Peter and Tony are outside with the carriage, Darr,” Pearl said. “Harriet’s calming Mother down. Sunny keeps saying you’re fine, but everyone says there was a fire in the Pleasure District, and when I saw that burned building down the way, I almost couldn’t go on. Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” Yves said. Had the fire truly only been the night before? It seemed as though a year had passed between the moment Yves had seen fire through the window and waking up in Charon’s bed. “Tell Mother that the fire wasn’t even close.”

“It sure looks close to me!”

“My dear.” Lord Marteau approached and held out a hand to Pearl. “Perhaps you should sit down and let Yves explain what happened last night.”

Pearl was a submissive like Yves, but she had no experience in turning down a dominant. Yves tried not to sigh as she melted under Lord Marteau’s attention. “If you say so, my lord.”

Lord Marteau winked at Yves and took the tray. Yves looked over his shoulder to try and catch Charon’s eye, but Charon was talking to Laurent now, his expression dark. “There isn’t much to tell. Someone set fire to the House of Silver.”

“But it isn’t safe here. You have to admit that.

” Pearl grabbed Yves’ hands and dragged him toward the door.

His suitors closed in, trying to murmur words of comfort, but Yves kept glancing at Charon.

Charon’s brow was furrowed in concern, and his shoulders were tense and tight. Something was wrong.

“We’ll keep him quite safe, young lady,” Lord Yeltsey said.

“Mother found someone for you,” Pearl whispered, eyeing Lord Yeltsey suspiciously.

Lord Yeltsey, who was the most harmless noble Yves had ever met, backed away like a kicked puppy.

“He’s not handsome like these fellows, but he has money, and he’ll keep you out of danger.

Or maybe you can just come home, and you can live with me when I get married. I won’t mind.”

“When are you getting married?” Yves asked. Pearl had always been an anxious shadow at home, emerging only when Yves was around to coax her out. Simply being in the city, surrounded by strangers, had to be jarring for her.

“Eventually.” Pearl’s voice shrank to a squeak. “I’m old enough, you know. I was thinking I could find a nice house and bring you, Sunny, Tony and Peter there.”

That would be effectively moving the family away from their parents, but Yves thought better than to mention it. “That’s sweet, Pearl, but…”

“But nothing!” Pearl’s squeak rose until it was almost audible to someone who wasn’t pressed to her side. “Someone’s setting fires in the Pleasure District! I’m not going to bury you.”

“You won’t have to, my dear,” Lord Marteau said. Pearl tightened her grip on Yves. “I have it on good authority that the man responsible is dead.”

“What?” Yves felt something heavy drop in his stomach. He looked at Charon, and Charon nodded shortly. “Why? How?”

“Someone saw fit to remove him, I suppose.” Lord Marteau waved a hand. “The crown may be merciful, but there could have been nobles in that house last night.”

“Here, now, Theo,” Lord Yeltsey said, going pink in the face. “There were still courtesans and servants inside.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Lord Marteau turned to Yves. “Any loss of life would be deplorable.”

“That was nice of you to say,” Pearl whispered to Lord Yeltsey.

Yves blinked tears out of his eyes before anyone could notice. “Are you sure someone killed him?” he asked.

“Allegedly,” Lord Marteau said. “But not to worry. I can post my own guards at the doors of the House of Onyx if you wish.”

“That will be entirely unnecessary, Theodore.” Laurent swept through them all with the same brusque dominance in his voice that had shaken onlookers out of their stupor the night before. “My lords, if you would please vacate my house so that I may assess our safety to my own standards?”

It wasn’t a request, however prettily Laurent said it. Lord Marteau looked like he might object, but Raul scuttled out with the faintest nod to Yves. Lord Yeltsey paused before he left, gazing into Yves’ eyes.

“You have a kind heart,” he said, “if you’re sorry for a man who could have killed you.”

“I’m not…” Yves struggled to get the words out.

“It’s all right.” Lord Yeltsey took a step back. “That’s what I like about you.”

Pearl frowned as he left. “Well, some nobles aren’t terrible. But that doesn’t mean you should marry them. That one probably has lovers hiding in his attic, or illegitimate children who will show up one day to duel you for their inheritance.”

“Lord Yeltsey is immune to scandal, Pearl. It’s almost impressive.”

“Men like that are the ones you need to watch. People are already killing each other. Do you really feel sorry for the one who set the fire?”

“He was just a boy,” Yves said. He thought of the way the boy had shaken when he inched toward the water jug, and his stomach rolled unpleasantly.

“And already a killer.” Pearl shuddered.

“You should go back.” Yves towed Pearl to the open door, where Tony and Peter had left the carriage to peer inside. Tony looked Yves up and down as though searching him for burns, and Yves glared at him. “What were you doing, sending Pearl in there?”

“There were too many nobles,” Tony said, “and they were mostly dominants. Pearl could sneak through easier than us.”

“You know how she gets in a crowd of people,” Yves said, glad to have a place to channel the unease and horror of the past day.

“I’m right here,” Pearl said. “Thanks ever so much.”

“Sorry, Pearl, but you were sweating in there. Do you two do this often? Send her in to slip past a group of dominants like a lamb in a pit of wolves?”

“You’re calling your suitors wolves?” Pearl asked.

“Hush while I’m defending you,” Yves said, and Pearl snorted.

“You’ve been gone for half her life,” Tony said. “Why do you suddenly care what any of us do now?”

“Because I still love you, you shit.”

“Funny way of showing it, running off to the city and leaving us alone with Ma,” Tony said.

Yves opened his mouth. He wanted to ask, why do I have to be the one who has to stay?

Why am I responsible? Since he’d first learned that Tony and Peter wouldn’t eat on time if he wasn’t the one making breakfast, all he’d wanted was a chance to live the life he’d craved.

Now he was being blamed for it, while the House of Silver was a ghastly vision of soot and charred wood, and a poor, tortured boy had been killed in the cells.

Maybe he was selfish. It was why he acted like a brat half the time. Hadn’t he earned a little pampering, after everything?

He glanced back through the door, where Charon was standing with Laurent.

Couldn’t things just be simple?

“We’ll tell Ma you’re safe, Darr,” Peter said, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He didn’t mean it. We’re a little on edge right now, thinking you were hurt and all.”

“We do love you,” Pearl said.

“I know,” Yves sighed. “I know.”

“You’re still doing the marriage contest after all this?” Peter asked. “Ma will want to know. She brought this man all the way from the country to see you.”

Yves bit his cheek. “Yes. I’m still doing it.”

Tony shook his head in silent disapproval and turned for the carriage. Peter mouthed another apology as he followed, and Pearl paused, clasping her hands together.

“What’s the next contest?” she asked. “Cousin Harriet might want to know.”

At least Harriet was there. She might not have been one of the Cooper siblings, but she was a better peacekeeper than Yves. “It’s a hedge maze. There’ll be food, if you want to come.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Pearl said. “That sounds busier than a summer festival.” She looked down at her feet. “I’m getting better, though.”

“I know you are, Pearl.”

Yves watched his siblings climb into their cart.

Tony was right; Yves had left them. Still, it seemed like no matter how much time passed, they were always the same.

Tony was abrasive and blunt as their mother.

Pearl was a shadow. And Peter was always trying to be the big man, desperate to fill Yves’ shoes as the one to hold everything together.

Yves turned back to the House of Onyx. Laurent had retreated to his office, and Charon sat next to the breakfast tray, his face in shadow.

“I don’t really feel like eating,” Yves said. “Do you?”