‘The court,’ Berenger began to explain to him, two days before they departed, ‘is very different, the entertainments can be—debauched—’
‘I’ve seen pets fucking before,’ said Ancel. ‘I am a pet. Remember? I’ll cover your eyes if you’re shocked.’
‘No. I meant that the court has changed,’ said Berenger, shaking his head, ‘since the King died. The Regent’s influence—’
‘You worry too much,’ said Ancel.
CHAPTER THREE
He remembered walking into Louans’s halls for the first time, the way he had felt shivery, standing in the biggest room he had ever seen.
The palace was like that, surpassing all the pictures in his mind. He stepped out of Berenger’s carriage and looked up. The high-flung turrets were white and gold and seemed to shine in the light, like the glinting banners that flew, rising high above Arles. There were sculpted figures and miles of windows and great steps that led up and up.
It was thrilling when palace staff came out to greet them, when they were taken in through halls and up wide marble stairs to the rooms where they would take up residence, two servants pushing open the double doors.
Inside, Berenger’s palace rooms were glorious, rooms upon rooms, which flowed on from one another, with high, ornamented walls and ceilings, ornate floors with blue and gold tiles, and a second set of gilded doors, themselves covered in carvings depicting the stages of a hunt.
Ancel walked in almost in a daze, too overwhelmed to affect nonchalance. Servants were streaming in with him, opening jewelled cabinets and laying out their things. He moved from one point to another, marvelling at each ornament. Berenger gestured to the room that ran directly off this one, saying, ‘That one’s yours.’
‘Mine?!’ said Ancel, and flung himself down happily among the cushions and billowing silk on the bed there, thinking that he must from now on always live in beautiful surroundings just like this. When he squirmed around to face the room, he saw that Berenger was watching him.
‘What?’ said Ancel.
‘Luxury suits you,’ remarked Berenger.
‘I think so too,’ said Ancel, in blissful agreement.
He had servants dress him with particular care, diaphanous silk, jewels, the paint on his face glittering gold. Ancel caught glimpses of himself and Berenger in the shining surfaces on the walk into the presentation room. Together they looked just as a pet and owner ought to look: Berenger austere, serious, alongside a spectacular, gleaming display of his own wealth.
The hall was thronging with courtiers, the crush thickest near the throne. Berenger was just one of several arrivals greeted by the Regent, though he was one of the more important ones. Ancel felt proudly conscious of every pair of eyes on him, his beauty set off to best advantage. He quickly identified the pets, pleased to see several of them whispering behind their hands and giving him looks full of jealousy.
More people were looking at him than at Berenger, and no other pet in the hall
was being given as much attention. He could hear the murmurs of speculation: Who was the new pet? How had he come to serve Berenger?
The Regent was an impression of royal silks edged in ermine, since—as a pet—etiquette dictated Ancel’s gaze be pinned to the floor. Berenger approached, knelt, murmured a few words. Ancel stayed many steps back in deep obeisance as this happened, but he was still presented. Berenger then knelt for the Prince, who was standing to the left of the throne, a severe young man in harsh clothing.
Then they were backing away from the throne, the presentation done. Ancel’s heart was soaring. He almost didn’t hear when Berenger said to him, awkwardly, ‘Tonight, there will be a dinner and entertainments. It will be expected that you and I, that is—’
‘Are you worried I’ll be shy?’ Ancel reached out, and hooked his finger into the tight lacings that crisscrossed over Berenger’s chest, drawing him forward a step. As the glances of a dozen curious courtiers turned their way, he slid his arm around Berenger’s neck, and murmured into his ear, ‘I’ll make every lord in the palace want to be you.’
Want to be you, and want to bid for me. It was so easy to play at pet that Ancel gave flirting with Berenger only half of his mind, the rest of him drinking in the fashion, the entertainments, and the attention he was garnering from all sides.
Lord Orsin stopped by and requested an introduction, bowing low as he took Ancel’s hand and saying, ‘I see Berenger’s landed one to watch.’ Lord Droet looked at him openly from across the table, ignoring his own pet. Lord Ralin asked, was it true what they’d heard, about Ancel and Lord Rouart in the ring?
‘Whatever you’ve heard,’ said Ancel, ‘I was better.’
‘Berenger,’ Lord Ralin laughed, ‘tell me when his contract’s up. I’m wild to bid for him.’
In between, Ancel flattered Lord Droet just the right amount for him to look favourably on Berenger’s trade propositions. Lord Droet was very well dressed, with a fashionable jacket. Lady Egere had a horse program Berenger was interested in, so Ancel made her feel like the most important person in the world. And when everyone was talking about the Prince, and the conversation swerved uncomfortably towards the new Akielon alliance, Ancel stepped in and told the whole table a risqué story he’d heard about Akielon bed practices, diverting attention. Even Berenger laughed when he got to the punchline.
‘Berenger, you dark horse, you’ve got the best pet in the room,’ Lord Droet said.
‘Well?’ said Ancel, giddy with pleasure as they entered their rooms. Berenger was smiling, and in the next moment he was at a low side table, picking something up, some sort of bundle of pale cream silk that he tossed to Ancel.
‘Here,’ said Berenger, as Ancel caught the small silk pouch that was startlingly heavy. Ancel pulled the ties open and gasped at what lay inside, a long string of emeralds. ‘You’ve more than earned a gift,’ said Berenger.
They were beautiful, a clear, deep green cut in smooth geometric patterns, each angle gleaming, and he’d seen pets today in their jewels, and knew this was as rich a gift as any of them.