Page 26 of The Pleasure Contract

Gordina points the heel of my own dress shoe directly at me. “The number of times I have withheld incriminating information from your Aunt would get me fired, Master Az, and well, you know it.”

She is not wrong.

“And what Prince Kiahn does with his permanent bride is up to him! Now, go fetch your dress shirts. Your father will no doubt be hosting dinners and whatnot that the two of you shall attend.”

She carries on neatly folding my things and tucking them away in various pieces of my luggage. When I return, I have a handful of my dress shirts in various colors. Gordina takes a moment to look at them before she pulls out more of the black ones than the white. “Females like to fantasize that their males are dangerous and brooding. The black will do nicely for that. And this one-” she says, pulling it out and showing me the delicate embroidery around the cuffs and collar, “Has gold thread. I noted that Lady Lois favored gold over silver for her own accessories.”

I stand there, grinning down at the old female.

“Don’t look at me like that. I think you’ve got wyzzie-nuts for brains with how you act around this human, but I may as well help you since no one else will.”

“Thank you, Gordina,” I say, wrapping her in an embrace.

She stiffens at first. We are employer and employee, after all, and she is still a female and I a male. Touch is not usual between us. But she has felt like another mother figure in my life for the longest time. Gordina relaxes after a beat or two, but not without a huff of breath that morphs into a chuckle before slapping me on the chest. “You better get my grandson some decent tickets for the drakball finals!”

I pull back. “Consider it already done.”

She smiles, her eyes looking glassy as they crinkle at the corners. “Good. Now, go fetch your scent oils. Females go gah-gah for a male that smells nice.”

13

Lois

The sun is high in the sky when everyone gathers to see us off. Both Lady Zalora and Prince Kiahn give Az the sternest of looks when he finally shows up, all packed and ready to go, an older Xaviann woman fussing over his clothes as he rounds the corner of the palace courtyard.

His eyes find mine as soon as he steps forward, dismissing the woman – his maid, I think – with a kindly nod and a smile. She parts from him with what looks like some final words of wisdom – words of wisdom that I’m fairly sure Az nods to, but completely ignores, because all he had been doing was staring at me from across the fountain.

And, almost shamelessly, I’d been staring right back at him, remembering our kiss.

Niska and Jaya are talking nearby, but I’m not really listening. Drex, Jaya’s new, masked bodyguard, is lurking in the shadows of a tall, neatly trimmed hedge, a huge blaster gun in his hands, his tail flicking behind him as he surveys the scene.

But I just keep staring at that handsome, smiling idiot across the courtyard.

And I swear, I can hear that song, ‘Kiss Me,’ by Sixpence None The Richer playing in my head like I’m in some kind of 90s romcom.

Except… it’s not playing in my head.

DJ is floating nearby, playing songs like someone’s programmed her to curate the soundtrack to my life.

To be fair, I did absently tell the floating orb about the kiss when I’d arrived home last night. But I’d made it very clear it had all been down to the adrenaline of the drak flight.

And, to that, she’d played ‘Little Lies’ by Fleetwood Mac.

Az starts walking my way, a gleam of intent in those roguish eyes of his, but he’s intercepted by his Aunt and Kiahn. I try to look away. Try to concentrate on whatever it is the girls are talking about, but it all sounds like hearing voices underwater. All my focus keeps going back to him.

Whenever I do look over, Az is looking right back.

I even witness Lady Zalora physically redirect his attention away from me and back on her with a gentle push from the handle of her cane to the side of his face.

His expression changes when he’s finally listening to Zalora and Kiahn. His brows dip, and his almost ever-present smile flattens into a look of serious concentration.

Lady Zalora points her cane directly in Az’s face before leaving the conversation, and Prince Kiahn gives him one of those macho, shoulder-slapping hugs.

When he’s finally begun walking toward me again, that smile reappears.

Only to disappear a few steps later when staff members approach him, apparently in need of his help.

The mournful look he gives me is accompanied by what seems like an apologetic shoulder dip before he’s turning in the other direction and following the staff toward the train-thing Kiahn has arranged to take us to the Capital.