-Felicity-

I spent hours answering the same questions, letting everyone know without saying explicitly that this was petty revenge against Lyon for strapping me down with a title. I had honestly thought I would be the laughingstock of the party, but instead, Caroline and Cecil’s unexpected support had turned the whole thing around to put me in a favorable light.

Instead of being tacky for stealing Lady Flowers’ dress, I was now wearing the spoils of war. It was a warning to others not to cross me. I will take you down, take what’s yours, and I won’t have the slightest hint of shame doing it. However, they had no idea what grievance I had against Lady Flowers to warrant taking her dress like this. Instead, they decided it was because the dress belonged to Lyon’s sister and was meant as a warning to him. Cross me again, and you’re next.

I fanned myself as I stood on the terrace. It was difficult being the center of attention.

“Felicity,” Felix said as he stepped onto the terrace behind me.

The name hit like ice water.

“I can’t believe how dumb I was to have not noticed,” he said as he came to stand beside me.

I turned slowly to look up at him.

“You look just like Mom.” Felix stared down at me, his pain laid bare on his face. His eyes were red. “Gods… The audacity of that idiot to ask you to investigate Aunt Karen.”

“I'm not sure if he's realized yet. If not, I’m curious to know how long it’ll take him to put the pieces together,” I said.

Felix snorted. “I won’t tell him. He doesn’t deserve that from either of us.” His hands opened and closed at his sides. He stared at me longingly.

Stepping forward, I put my arms around him. “I’m not mad at you,” I said. “And I avoided you as much as I could, so it isn’t like you had the opportunity…”

His arms wrapped around me, his face in my hair as he sniffled. He smelled like wine. “But I still bought that lie that you were allergic to the cat! I just… maybe it’s the scars? I couldn’t believe a girl would wield a sword and walk around with scars on her face like that. I really thought you were a man.” His grip tightened. “Aunt Karen did it to you, didn’t she?”

“First day I was there,” I said. “I asked for dinner, and she threw coals at me. I didn’t even block it. I was so shocked. She locked me in the basement for three days after that.”

“Gods…” Felix choked. “If I’d known, I would’ve come…”

“You weren't in the city then and had no power to help me either. He was the only one who could’ve gotten me out of that hell.”

“I’d catch him reading those letters,” Felix whispered. “It made me so mad that he was paying attention to you when I was standing right there. Now, I just hate him more. He asked me about your report that night. I was drunk, so I thought I was seeing things. Those curls you do on your crossbars. It actually occurred to me, but I forgot because I went to bed right after. How did he not know? How did he not notice?” Felix shook his head and finally eased his tight embrace enough to step back and look at me. “Use me however you feel like. I’ll let you drag my reputation through the mud if it gets him.”

“Your reputation is already in the mud,” I told him flatly. 

He glanced aside with the audacity to look embarrassed.

“It’d be more of a shock if you suddenly stopped and ran away from him, too,” I said.

Felix snorted. “You’re right,” he realized. “You didn’t get his attention until you tried to leave him. So where should I go?”

“Learn how to use the sword on your hip, not the one between your legs first,” I retorted.

To my surprise, Felix didn’t flinch. He nodded, expression one of someone studiously listening to their teacher. “Should I try to get a position on the border then? Or should I stay closer?”

“You can do whatever you want, Felix,” I said, tapping his chest. “You’ve been living trying to please him, misbehaving to get him to reprimand you, so just stop. He’s not worth it. What do you want to do?”

“I… hate being a knight,” he admitted. “I hate getting up for training in the mornings. I hate how everyone expects me to be good at it because I’m his son. I hate it!” Felix opened his eyes after his final declaration, and his expression cleared like a weight had been lifted from his heart. “It isn’t the early mornings, even. Captain Westgard isn’t mean about training, just strict. But the training. Running around. Swinging a sharp piece of metal for the purpose of hurting someone with it. The smell of blood makes me sick. Fel, I want to be a priest.”

I smiled at him, more than a little amused. “Which god? I don’t think there’s a god of hedonism.”

Felix sighed. “You know what I was doing and why. I don’t even like drinking. I can give that up easily.”

“And the ladies?”

He unexpectedly blushed and looked away.

“And the duchy?”

He crumbled, and I felt bad for bringing that up. “He’s never going to let me go…” Felix whispered tears in his eyes.

“Who cares? Let the duchy rot,” I said. “Once you’re accepted into an order, he can’t drag you out without the permission of the Saint.”

“And why would the Saint bother standing up for me?” Felix asked.

I considered that for a time. “Well… I came here intending to make myself a laughing stock and get thrown out of high society. Instead, I made quite a few allies.” I squeezed his arms. He was muscular, but not nearly as much as he should’ve been. The evidence of his half-assed training was written all over his body. “Stop drinking and sleeping around. Pick an order you want to join.”

The smile he gave me was blinding. Felix threw me against his chest in another tight hug. Beneath the debauchery, it seemed he was still the sweet brother I remembered. I let him crush me. I wasn’t holding back with my hug either.

“My. Goodness,” Cecil said as he slipped onto the terrace. “I leave you alone for a moment, and you’re embracing the son of your sworn enemy.” He sipped one of the two glasses of champagne he held. “I suppose seducing Sir Lyon is part of your plot?”

Felix snorted. “Hardly.” He looked down at me. “She’s not my type.”

“We were plotting how to embarrass Duke Lyon further,” I said.

“Do tell?” Cecil asked as he offered me the other glass. “Felix has been kicked out of every bar in the capital. How could he possibly act in a way that would embarrass the duke?”

I took the glass and sized Cecil up. Would his contacts be of any help?

Felix answered instead, “I’ve decided to join the Order of Lorelai.”

The glass shattered on the ground. Cecil looked down at it, then at his hand as if he couldn’t believe it had betrayed him like that. “I think I misheard.”

“You didn’t,” Felix said cheerfully. “Seeing Lady Mortuary make a fool of him made me realize I’ve been doing it all wrong. I’ve been acting within the confines of what he expects. Knights are rowdy. I bet he thought I’d settle down eventually and do what he wants like a good little pawn. I should instead just do what I want. I don’t want to be a knight. I hate swords. I’d rather get sent to a remote village to farm food for the poor. At least then, I’d feel like my early mornings are bettering society rather than just a torture to be endured for a man too stupid to recognize what’s right in front of him.”

Cecil covered his eyes with his hand and wheezed a laugh. “Oh. Gods. This is delightful! I’ll help! And the Order of Lorelai isn’t so strict as to keep you from enjoying a drink from time to time.”

“I only drink to forget how miserable I am,” Felix admitted. “If I’m not miserable, I do not need to drink.”

“Ha, fair point!” Cecil said. “Then here’s to a new life, bereft of misery.” He gestured with his empty hand. I lifted my glass as well.