Volle (19 page)

The cougar favored him with a smile, and kissed his muzzle. “What did you call me?” his baritone rumbled softly.

Volle’s eyes widened slightly as he played back in his head the words he’d said. Oh, Fox, had he really said ‘Highness’? “I…said ‘Jonas.’”

The cougar shook his head. “That’s not what I heard.”

Volle gave a weak smile. “Well, I’m sure I said that. There was a lot going on. What did it sound like?”

“It sounded like…” Jonas considered, looking thoughtfully at Volle, and then smiled. “It’s none of my business what your fantasies are. There, you’re all clean.”

Volle smiled and wagged his tail slowly, sitting up. “Mm. Thank you, Jonas.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Volle would have liked a bit of a cuddle, but the cougar was more aloof than Richy had been, and he couldn’t work up the nerve. His fantasy of Prince Gennic was still fresh in his mind. “How did you know what to do?”

Jonas smiled and rubbed his chest with a paw. “When someone comes in and just stares, and waits for me to tell them what to do, it’s not too hard to figure out. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, yes.” Volle panted for effect, and Jonas chuckled softly.

“I’m glad.”

Volle was enjoying the chest rubbing, and he returned it, rubbing his claws over Jonas’s stomach and enjoying the resultant purr. After several relaxing minutes, Jonas was still showing no more interest in cuddling, and Volle’s arm was getting tired. He knew he could ask for a cuddle, but that didn’t seem as right with Jonas as it might with Richy; then again, Richy would have offered. So Volle just got up and stretched, enjoying what he imagined was the cougar’s admiring gaze, and then slowly got dressed.

He turned to Jonas and smiled when he was done. “Thank you again, Jonas. Good night.”

The cougar was lying back on the bed again. “Good night, sir. Please do come again.” He had a small smile on his muzzle, and his overall impression was one of superior aloofness. Volle reflected that it suited him very well, and turned and left.

Once again, he had to wait for Helfer. He waved to Tally, and gave him another silver when he came over. Tally smiled, pocketed it in the same mysterious way, and, as the place was nearly empty, sat down beside him. “Liked Jonas, too?”

“Oh, yes.” Volle sighed, and smiled. “Cougars just do something to me.” He grinned, and Tally batted him softly on the nose.

“Oh, you cutey. Jones is a sweetie, but not to everyone’s taste, and he and Richy are pretty different. You’re a worldly fox of many tastes, dear.”

“I suppose so,” Volle chuckled. “Mostly I like wolves and big cats.”

Tally looked shrewdly at him. “Not foxes?”

“Oh, well, foxes too. I thought that went without saying.”

The white cougar shook his head. “Not everyone likes their own species. Take your friend. Never been with another weasel, as far as I know.”

“Really?” Volle rubbed his muzzle thoughtfully.

“Really, dear.” Tally placed a paw over his on the table, and whispered confidentially, “I just wanted to let you know that we’re all set up for next week. You and your friends won’t be disturbed. And I don’t want to know what you’re doing in there!” He giggled. “All right, I admit it, I do. But what I wanted to ask is, will that be all, or will you want Richy to join you?”

“Not joining us,” Volle said, “but maybe for after.”

Tally’s eyes widened. “So maybe foxes have more stamina than I’d thought.” He held a paw to his muzzle and smiled. “You’ll have him, too. Just pay when you come in, then, dear. Oh! Customers.” Tally stood, and kissed his ear. “Good night, darling. See you soon.” He swept off to greet the new arrivals.

Volle grinned, and listened to the raccoon combo. Sex usually relaxed him, and it was probably mostly that which gave him a comfortable, happy feeling. His homesickness was evaporated, and that was probably because he felt at home here. Tally’s friendly, open manner made him feel like one of the family, and even Helfer’s friendship and Welcis’s precise dedication hadn’t given him that feeling at the palace. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“There’s an extra charge for sleeping.” Helfer slipped into the chair beside him, a wide grin on his muzzle.

Volle grinned and sat up. “Want a drink, or are you ready to go?”

“Oh, let’s go.” Helfer left a silver piece on the table, calling Tally’s attention to them before he followed Volle into the street.

Once outside, Helfer took a deep breath and stretched. “He’s a nice bottom, that wolf. Warm and tight and small enough that I can hold him.” His paws drew a vaguely wolf-shaped outline in the air. “I can see what you liked in him.”

“Enough to compare with a rabbit?” Volle grinned.

“Well, no.” Helfer chuckled. “Ears are too small, and he was panting pretty hard by the time I was done.”

“Panting? What do you
do
to them?”

The weasel giggled softly. “It’s not really the sort of thing one describes. Much more fun to show.”

Volle smirked. “I thought you didn’t ride from the palace stables.”

“Well? Doesn’t mean you can’t watch.”

They shared a laugh, and teased each other all the way back to the palace. There, they parted with pats on the back and “see you in the morning.” Volle found when he got back to his chambers that Welcis was asleep, so he crawled into bed and followed suit.

In the morning, he mentioned the loveseat and the dinner with Arrin to Welcis, who promised to take care of both. The tailor had dropped off a formal suit, which reminded Volle that he had dinner with Tish, his wife, and some vixen the following evening, which reminded him that he had yet even to meet any of the three lords Tish had wanted him to ingratiate himself with. His memory had been trained well enough that he could remember all three names, but Tish hadn’t told him who they were or what they looked like. And while he might’ve been able to ask Dereath a few days ago, that was out of the question now. So he would have to ask Tish when he saw him for dinner.

He ran with Helfer and then went to the lunch anyway, but the only lord there he recognized was Oncit, the wolf from the tribunal. He sat near him and tried to engage him in conversation, but with little success. Half-hoping to run into Seir again, he spent the afternoon wandering around the town, but apart from the fried pastry vendor, saw nobody he recognized. He returned for dinner, taking it in the common area, and this time he heard one of the names Tish had given him: “Ikinna.”

He turned and saw a chubby weasel responding to the name. The weasel was slightly taller than Helfer, but also wider; he obviously didn’t take a daily run. He had Helfer’s energy, though, and showed it in his flamboyant gestures and incessantly tapping foot and wagging tail. He was sitting with four other lords who were all four or five years older than Volle was, and they were drinking plenty of mead. One was a wolf, one a badger, and the other two were bears.

Volle swiveled one ear to try to catch his conversation without being obvious about it. He only caught snatches here and there, but it appeared the group was talking about the Ermine Dancers, with Ikinna boasting that his wife could outdance any of them. Volle was rather amused that they were still talking about the dancers a week later, but then again, they were all much more excited by them than he’d been. He thought about going over and introducing himself, but the group reminded him of some of his groups of friends in the Academy. Nobody was more annoying or more quickly and firmly excluded from the group than the hanger-on who tried to push his way in. Better to find Ikinna and meet him one on one.

He was about to stop listening when he heard Ikinna say “Ryshko, you’re an idiot.” He turned again and saw that they were all laughing, but he couldn’t tell which one was Ryshko. He finished his dinner, making absent conversation with the other lords at his table, and didn’t realize until he was back in his chambers that he hadn’t caught their names.

The next day, he asked Helfer about Ikinna, but Helfer didn’t know him all that well. “His family and mine are from different areas,” he said, “and he’s five years older than I am, so we never played much growing up. I never did have any other weasel friends.” He shrugged and smiled. “Didn’t much miss it.”

“Who were your friends?”

“I don’t think you’ve met any of them,” Helfer said. “Lord Black is one, he’s a raccoon. We used to be best friends until he got interested in girls. And Lord Tallio’s son, until he went off to the Winfield School. Other than that, I was always kind of a loner. What about you?”

Volle shrugged. “They’re all far away now. Joey, another fox, was my best friend growing up. He got the plague and died. And probably my best friend lately was Reese. He’s a hare.”

“Ooh. Gay?”

Volle laughed. “Sadly, no. But maybe you’ll get to meet him sometime anyway.”

Helfer just licked his lips and kept running.

Preparing for the dinner that night was more of an ordeal than Volle had thought it would be. First, Welcis insisted he take a bath, a water bath, and then he had to brush out every inch of his fur, even the parts that Volle would have preferred to take care of himself. The skunk handled it very professionally, so Volle was thankfully able to keep from showing his usual reaction to being touched there. After the brushing, Welcis brought out a scented powder, more expensive than the common powder used in the baths, and brushed Volle lightly with it. It smelled of lavender, but the scent was so light that even Volle’s sensitive nose had trouble detecting it further than a few inches away. The powder absorbed some of the moisture from his fur and neutralized most of the strong smell it gave off. It was considered impolite to conceal your scent, but foxes, mustelids, and other strong-smelling animals often muted theirs at formal occasions, out of consideration for others.

When he was dried and scented, Welcis helped him with his new formal clothes. Volle was glad of the help, because there were a few things he would definitely have put on incorrectly: the cravat, for one, which Welcis tied so deftly that Volle couldn’t see how he’d done it, and the cloth belt for another, which apparently had to be tied particularly to one side and to the back, not the front. And then there was the lace collar, and the feathered cap (“which you must take off when you arrive,” Welcis told him, and didn’t reply when Volle asked “then why even put it on?”), and finally, Welcis deemed him ready.

He looked at himself in the mirror rather longer than necessary. The clothes not only looked very nice, but were also warm. Hopefully Tish wouldn’t have a fire going. He steeled himself to meet his prospective wife, and followed Welcis to Tish’s chambers.

Tish greeted him at the door with a formal grasp of his paw and touching of muzzles, then smiled and patted him on the back. “Come on in, boy! Everyone’s here.” Volle remembered to take off his hat as he entered the room.

Tish’s chambers were laid out much like his. There was no foyer, as Helfer had, but the parlor was larger than either Helfer’s or Volle’s. Because it was on the third floor, the windows were also larger and both were open to let the cool fall air in.

It was the furnishings that really set the room apart. Tish and his wife had decorated with two elegant tapestries, both depicting heroic wolves in battle. Tish’s desk was twice as large as Volle’s and was in immaculate condition, as far as Volle could see under the papers that threatened to engulf it. Behind it, two large windows looked onto the rear gardens. Two plushly upholstered chairs and a loveseat faced the large fireplace, and behind them, against the wall, two simpler chairs were set around a small wooden table. The door to the sitting room was also ornate, of dark polished wood that Volle thought might be ebony. It was unadorned except for the golden handle.

The two ladies were standing between the loveseat and the door, the larger wolf in front of the vixen. “You remember my wife, Tika.” Tika came forward and curtsied, and Volle kissed her paw.

“Of course.” He smiled, and she returned the smile.

“And this is Ilyana,” she said, stepping aside.

She was attractive, Volle had to admit. He stepped forward and took her paw as she bowed, brushing his muzzle across it. Her scent was muted, probably with a powder like the one he’d used, but he could tell it was rich and warm. It reminded him in vitality of the smell of the inns he’d stayed at on the plains, though he supposed she wouldn’t appreciate that comparison. Lightly laid over it was a flowery scent he didn’t quite recognize.

Her light purple dress went well with her reddish fur. She too had a lace collar, though hers was more elaborate than his and cut lowerThe swell of her chest tapered to a narrow waist, defined by a dark purple cloth belt that rested on her wider hips. Her long tail was quite fluffy, and the white tip at the end was clean and bright.

She smiled and brought her paw to her muzzle, breathing in the scent he’d left on it. “Ilyana, this is Lord Vinton,” Tika said belatedly.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said, straightening.

“The pleasure is mine.” She had a high voice, but it was warm and soft.

Tish smiled. “Shall we sit down for a first round of wine?” He ushered his wife and the foxes into their sitting room.

The sitting room, also large, was divided in half by an archway. The half they entered initially was set up as a traditional sitting room, with two loveseats, four chairs, and four small tables. At the back of the room was a handsome cabinet that smelled of liquor.