Page 72 of Drown Me Gently

Auren’s heart jumped. He turned his head quickly to hide the way his face flamed.

The man stared between them, visibly floundering. “I…I wasn’t aware the law allowed for two⁠—”

“Two what?” Ulric snapped, voice dropping dangerously low.

Before the man could finish that thought, another usher elbowed him sharply. He stumbled and cleared his throat.

“Just—just put them through!” he barked at the boy manning the velvet rope. “Balcony, west side. No one comes or goes.”

“R-right this way,” the mousy boy said, and blushed when Auren offered him a grateful smile as they passed.

“What was that about?” Auren asked as they were led down a carpet-lined hallway.

“Human nonsense. Prejudices over same-sex mating.”

Auren cocked a brow. “They don’t allow for couples like that? But…”

Piercing sky blue eyes returned to the forefront of his mind like the sting of a lionfish’s quill. Elias had pursued him and…

“Of course they do. But privately. It’s nothing for us to worry about. Don’t let it bother you, Auren.”

The sound of his name coming from Ulric’s mouth snapped him back to the present, and he squeezed the Kraken’s hand in gratitude.

The busboy led them up a sweeping staircase, while glittering chandeliers reflected the shimmering threads in their clothes.

The theater was breathtaking.

Scarlet drapes pooled from the ceiling like blood poured from a goblet, framing the wide stage in heavy, velvet folds. Every chair gleamed with lacquered wood and plush crimson cushions. Ornate crystal chandeliers threw pools of honeyed light across the audience below.

The boy who had escorted them led them not to the rows of seating, but up a winding staircase to a private balcony. Their view was perfect. High enough to see the whole stage, yet intimate, removed from the bustling crowd. Thick velvet curtains draped each side, hiding them from the adjacent balconies. Auren could hear other guests settling in—the muffled rustle of clothing, soft bursts of laughter—but he couldn’t see them unless he leaned precariously over the edge. It was all very, very private.

Auren pressed closer to the railing in excitement, pointing eagerly at the stage as an orchestra settled in the pit below, tuning their instruments in a discordant hum.

“It’s like the puppet show!” he whispered.

Ulric chuckled, sinking into one of the two ornate chairs at the front of their balcony. He stretched his long legs out, lounging like a king surveying his court.

“Oh, this will be much better than a puppet show,” he said with a sly smile. “This is the Royal Theater. Though…” he glanced around at their lavish space, noting the nest of scattered throws and low, sumptuous couches, “I don’t recall so many… pillows.”

Auren looked around too, a little bewildered. Besides the two chairs near the railing, the floor of their balcony was littered with silken throws, thick cushions, and plush ottomans, creating a sort of luxurious nest.

“Maybe it’s because tonight’s a special event?” Auren suggested. “Maybe it’ll go super late, and the guests are supposed to lie down for the later performances. Like an overnight party.”

Ulric raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Auren’s attention snagged on something else. Two tiny vials set into a shelf in the wall, their contents gleaming semi-translucent, yellow-tinted like olive oil.

“What do you think those are for?” Auren asked, pointing.

“I have no idea,” Ulric admitted, frowning.

Before they could speculate further, there was a polite knock, and a silver tray was delivered, piled with olives, cheese, crackers, and slivers of cured meats.

Delighted, Auren set to sampling one of everything, firing a hundred questions at Ulric in rapid succession. About the instruments, the costumes, and the history of the theater. Ulric answered them all with infinite patience, smiling like a man content to simply exist beside him.

Then, with a low sweep of the conductor’s hand, the lights dimmed, and the performance began.

It was glorious.