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More In Common

Chapter 9

"You needn't have dragged us aside to lecture us on manners and etiquette," Jonathan complained.

"Really? That's a relief," Etienne said sarcastically and smiled at Jonathan's back as the marquis paced the room.

The moment the Kingsleys arrived at the ball, Etienne greeted Charles, Richard, and Robin warmly, then summoned Jonathan and Corene to a room off the hall. It was a small study with a desk at its center and bookshelves lining its walls. The curtains were drawn back and moonlight poured through, falling across Etienne's gold crown as he sat on the edge of the desk with his arms folded. He was immaculate in a white coat with gold trim and an emerald sash. Corene told Etienne how handsome he was the moment he greeted her, but he thought Jonathan and Corene looked very appealing themselves, especially Corene, who was wearing a pale green gown that brought out her eyes beautifully. Jonathan was wrapped in white and gold, and his red mane fell loose around his shoulders. It had become the fashion for males to wear their manes loose to balls. Etienne's own golden mane tumbled smooth down his back. Every now and then, he caught Corene glancing over him with the sort of doting he had grown accustomed to when they were living together at Wychowl. Now he just found it tense and awkward: Jonathan and Corene were married and he'd once bent them over.

As angry and resentful as Jonathan seemed, he could not stop pacing. Etienne knew he was feeling the tension and trying desperately to ignore it. There was a reason, after all, that Jonathan had refused to visit Wychowl for ten years. They both knew it had little to do with Corene.

"I thought you didn't invite us to behave," Corene said in amusement, one paw holding her arm as she smiled at Etienne around the sweep of her white mane. Her long lashes blinked slowly as her adoring smile widened, but when Jonathan caught her eye, she guiltily dropped her gaze.

Etienne decided to ignore the silent argument escalating between them and looked out the window. "And you would be correct. I mean, I need you to keep everyone from focusing too much on Zeinara, but don't over do it. No throwing pies. . . .or the good wine."

"Just the usual, eh?" Jonathan said, looking at Etienne with deepest loathing. "I shouldn't go tossing a drink in some fat baron of such-and-such's face?"

Etienne blinked at Jonathan, trying to decide where the hostility was coming from. He finally decided to continue ignoring his behavior and looked out the window again. "I'd like my guests to leave Wychowl with their dignity. That's not so much to ask."

"Ah," Jonathan said, looking away. "You mean you don't want any brawling. Well, if Baron Bennett can keep his mouth shut this time around, I might leave him some teeth."

Corene's brows creased down. "For god's sake, Jonathan," she scolded.

Jonathan ignored her, folding his arms to regard Etienne with a derisive smile. "And did it never occur to you, dearest Etienne, to simply talk to your daughter about the princess of Poston? You know. That thing where you move your mouth? Not the_other_ thing. We don't want to get Corene's hopes up."

Corene scowled. "Jonathan, you're being an ass."

"But that's my forte, love," the marquis returned without looking at her.

"Just stop it," Corene warned.

"No, he's . . ." Etienne sighed. ". . . kinda right."

Corene and Jonathan looked at Etienne in surprise.

Etienne stared at his shoes. The truth was, he had attempted to speak to Zeinara earlier that week, only to have the conversation blow up into an argument about Azrian. He hadn't been able to speak to her since.

"Pft, I don't _believe_it," Jonathan said incredulously. He grinned. "I'm a better father than you!"

Etienne glanced at Jonathan irritably, but the marquis seemed finished teasing. He came to the desk and sat on the edge beside Etienne. Corene drew close and did likewise. Etienne stared at the wall, trying to ignore the enticing scent of them as their fur and manes and soft fabrics brushed him.

"Why's it so difficult?" Jonathan asked with sincere concern. He tossed a paw. "I mean, I didn't want to talk to Robin about boys, but I figured it was my duty as a father."

Corene frowned. "When did you have that talk with her! I thought only I . . ."

"There are some things that should come from a father, love," Jonathan said. "Robin needed a male perspective, and it was my job to give her one."

Corene smiled at Jonathan warmly, but Jonathan didn't notice: he was looking at Etienne.

Etienne laughed hollowly. "I'm proud of you, Jonathan. Turns out you're good with kids."

"Oh, yeah? What's your excuse?" Jonathan demanded. "The moment you stuck your willy in Zeinara's mother --"

"Jonathan!" Corene cried, horrified.

"-- was the moment you lost any right to what you wanted," Jonathan went on. "Now it's about Zeinara and what's good for her. I'll admit you're looking out for the girl, but you can't do it halfway. You have to talk to her too, Etienne. You prick." He opened his coat and glanced inside. Etienne knew he was looking for a cigar.

"I'll talk to her after the ball," Etienne wearily decided.

Jonathan snorted. "You should have spoken to her before. Then we wouldn't be here." He pulled his cigar case and flipped it open.

Etienne laughed wearily and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I hate it when you're right. It's like rubbing salt in a wound."

Jonathan grinned and stuck a cigar in his teeth. "Innit, though?" His face darkened when Corene plucked the cigar from his mouth. "Love --"

"No," Corene said firmly and slipped the cigar down her cleavage.

Etienne swallowed hard as her cleavage jiggled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd touched a female's breasts. No, he could. Azrian. Almost exactly fifteen years ago. Fifteen excruciating years ago.

Jonathan's eyes flickered irritably but he tried to cover his irritation with a laugh. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted to dive face-first after my cigar, Etienne," he said.

Corene blushed to her hairline. "Just stop it, Jonathan," she warned. She looked at Etienne and her green eyes softened. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she assured him, placing an absent paw on his arm.

Etienne looked at her unhappily from under the sweep of his golden mane. His arms were still folded and he towered over her. Looking down from his great height, Corene suddenly seemed so small and pretty and delicate. Her white nails extended long from pink beds that were glossy in the moonlight as she squeezed a comforting paw on his arm. He remembered a time when she would wear five rings at once, but now she only wore two: her wedding band and engagement ring. The diamond on the engagement ring winked brilliantly in the gloom. He thought she could have sawed a door off with it. She was soft and beautiful and sweet smelling, and he tried not to think of all the times when he would rock her against the sheets and bury his face in her great breasts. He wished she would take her paw off his arm.

"It may seem awkward, talking about it at first," Corene assured Etienne, "but Zeinara will thank you for it in the end." She smiled and her long lashes nearly pressed together when her bright eyes crinkled up. She stared up at Etienne with open adoration and didn't see the sour look that crossed Jonathan's face. "She is _so_lucky to have a father who loves her the way you do." She looked at Jonathan. "Both our girls are lucky."

Jonathan only glared at Corene. She stiffened in defiance to see the silent accusation on his face.

Etienne tried to think up some joke to take the edge off the tension and failed.

"You know I thought you were Robin's father?" Jonathan said to Etienne, but his bright, angry eyes were fixed on Corene.

Corene glared at her husband coldly.

"I thought for certain Corene would give birth to a King Shepherd," Jonathan went on. He folded his arms and shrugged. "Then I'd have to send the kid here to you . . . and maybe Corene too." His eyes clouded.

"No, you wouldn't," Etienne assured him. "I wouldn't have made you do anything."

Jonathan glanced at him gratefully, his mouth sad. He looked at Corene. "That what you would have wanted, Corene? To come here if Robin were Etienne's?"

Corene clasped her paws and shook her head sadly. "Oh, Jonathan, stop this melancholy nonsense! You know I only want to be with you!"

"But your child," Jonathan insisted. "Wouldn't you want it to have a better life?" He looked off and muttered, "A better life than I could give."

"Jonathan, stop being stupid," Etienne complained and his face twisted. "Corene chose you."

"Did she?" Jonathan muttered.

Corene's breasts heaved. "I have every right to be just as suspicious of you!"

Jonathan looked at her quickly. "What are you on about?"

Corene took a shuddering breath, "Hadly told me --!"

"That cow!" Jonathan shouted and snapped up from the desk.

Etienne went still. ". . . what did Hadly tell you, Corene?"

Corene was looking coldly and defiantly at Jonathan, but her green eyes slid to Etienne and softened. "I knew you liked males," she said to him. "After all, I knew about you and Decius. But Jonathan? Etienne, for god's sake, he's your cousin."

Etienne laughed tonelessly. "We didn't know at the time. And say hello to Hadly for me. Say hello to her big mouth too." He shook his head and glared at the floor.

"Well?" Corene said into the silence. Her eyes went back and forth between them, bright and strained. "Aren't you going to say something!"

Etienne remained seated on the edge of the desk, his arms folded. Jonathan took an uncertain step and slid his paws in his pockets. Neither of them looked at her. Or each other.

"We don't owe you an explanation," Jonathan said at last and glared at Corene. "I am not in love with Etienne, which is more than I can say for you."

Corene's nostrils flared and she swallowed hard. But she denied nothing.

Etienne cleared his throat. "Well. This just became two more degrees of awkward than I can handle. Let's get back to the ball, shall we? Zeinara should have finished dressing by n--" Etienne sputtered to silence when Jonathan suddenly grabbed his penis and squeezed it through his breeches. Hard. He could see himself stiffening in that adamant paw and grabbed Jonathan's wrist. "Mmfp - Jonathan! What are you --?"

"Leave him alone!" Corene cried, astonished.

Jonathan didn't let go. He squeezed and massaged Etienne to throbbing arousal, his eyes fixed insolently on Corene. "Go on," he challenged her. "Look at his dick. You want to. You think of it when you're with me --"

"That's not true!" Corene cried at once. And it wasn't true. "Jonathan, stop this! You're making him hard!" She blushed so furiously the flush spread over her cleavage.

Jonathan defiantly yanked Etienne's pants open, and Etienne wanted to disappear when his enormous erection pushed from the fabric. It stood thick and pulsing with veins in the silence that followed. Jonathan and Corene just stared at it. Etienne fumbled to button his pants, thinking that neither of them were in love with him. They were in _lust_with him and were arguing over him like two tramps over a scrap of meat.

Jonathan slapped Etienne's clumsy paws off, and grabbing Corene by the paw, he pulled her near. Etienne swallowed hard and watched as Jonathan took Corene's slender fingers . . . and guided them to stroke his erection. Jonathan's eyes were fixed on Corene's face, but as he was moving her paw along the shaft, he looked at Etienne as well. Etienne set his teeth and frowned as the pleasure made him harder, made him swell and lengthen until Corene's lashes fluttered.

"Jonathan!" Corene whispered, horrified. But she looked at Etienne, and before she had realized it, she was massaging him on her own.

In the silence that followed, the three of them watched as Etienne swelled thicker in Corene's stroking paw.

***

Zeinara still hadn't dressed. She was doing everything in her power to stall having to go down to the ball. Her gown was on display, pulled tight over the mannequin as she lounged on the edge of her bed in nothing but her knickers and corset. Her long golden mane was down, falling thick and wavy around her naked shoulders. A soft rouge was on her golden cheeks, and her curvy black body was a silky shadow against the coverlet. Axel knelt behind the princess on the bed, brushing her mane as she begged her mistress to dress.

"Your father will _kill_me if you're late," Axel moaned.

"No, he won't, stop whimpering!" Zeinara rolled her eyes, holding her long nails aloft to appraise them.

"Mistress, please!"

Zeinara sighed. Axel was perched on her knees. Her soft sex was near Zeinara's face, hot and moist and enticing. With one turn, Zeinara's mouth was buried between the slave's thighs. Axel stammered and dropped the brush as Zeinara's careful fingers glided in her sex and curled to caress her. She spread her fingers, holding the slave's tight sex open so her tongue could flick inside. Axel touched Zeinara's mane and sighed weakly.

"M-Mistress . . . please . . . we shouldn't . . . oh . . ."

Zeinara grabbed Axel by the hips and moved her mouth slowly and carefully between her thighs. Axel's soft lips swelled with every careful stroke of Zeinara's tongue, and before long, the soft sound of licking and moaning had filled the room.

***

Etienne's eyes hooded as Jonathan and Corene dragged their tongues along his shaft. They were on their knees, pleasuring him with such hunger, he couldn't breathe. He saw the pre-cum oozing from his head and pleasure shuddered through him when Jonathan licked it off with a roll of his tongue. Their tongues alternated up and down the sides of him, and when one mouth closed over his penis, and the other was bathing his sack, which Jonathan had been only too eager to pull from the nest of fabric. Their mouths were hungry and eager but gentle and slow, coaxing and caressing him toward a throbbing climax.

"S-Stop," Etienne whispered breathlessly. "You'll . . . make me come and . . . my clothes . . ."

Corene closed her mouth over Etienne and took him to the base. Etienne gave a choked cry as he plunged into the heat of her wet mouth, and they saw her throat flex as she struggled to swallow his seed. Her helpless gurgles filled the silence as Jonathan watched it happening with hooded eyes. He touched the back of his fingers to Corene's cheek, and when she pulled her mouth from Etienne, he grabbed her by the face and kissed her deeply, tongue and all.

Etienne fumbled to button his pants, trying not to become aroused again as he watched them kissing. But Jonathan was still hard. He took Corene by the waist and sat her on Etienne's lap. Corene smiled at Etienne as her thighs straddled him and the soft fabric of her gown rose around them like rising bread. She hugged his neck tight, and after hesitating, he put his arms around her. Behind her, Jonathan was pushing up her skirts and unbuttoning his pants roughly and eagerly. She smiled at Etienne softly, then licked his lips, and after hesitating, thrust her tongue against his. They were kissing when her soft cry vibrated through their lips, and Etienne knew Jonathan had thrust himself inside her.

She rocked between them, her cleavage jiggling, her lashes fluttering as Jonathan buried breathless kisses in her neck. Etienne found himself pulling the straps of her gown down around her shoulders, until her great breasts had pushed free. She was wearing the sort of corset a mother wore when she was nursing: he was able to easily peal the cups open and suck her pink nipples as Jonathan rocked her.

Corene's head fell back and she cried out, weak with pleasure, as they made love to her. Etienne sucked her nipple steadily and carefully, pausing only to roll his tongue against it. He hefted her other big breast in his paw, thinking they had gotten so heavy and full after Robin was born. He lifted it, squeezed until the nipple jutted, and suckled it next.

Without warning, Jonathan pinned them both on the desk and pounded Corene faster, harder, until she was screaming softly and her breasts were flapping in Etienne's face. Etienne could feel her tail flashing everywhere. His paws found her slender waist and smoothed along her curves as Jonathan's thrusts left her backside trembling from every slam.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Jonathan leaned past Corene's frantic face and kissed Etienne warm on the mouth. Etienne's lashes fluttered in surprise, but his big paw cupped Jonathan's cheek, and their heads were twisting when the marquis grunted against the kiss. Corene sputtered, and Etienne knew Jonathan had released inside her. He felt the warm moisture seeping into his breeches and almost got hard again.

***

Zeinara smoothed her paw along Axel's slender thigh and placed it on her shoulder as she continued to lick her, slowly, hungrily, her wet tongue slapping the soft, swollen lips of the slave's hungry sex. Axel twisted on her back. Her small black breasts were rolling. Zeinara reached up and squeezed them, and Axel thrust her breasts to the ceiling as she came. Zeinara licked every inch between her thighs, and as the slave lay panting in a daze, the princess licked her thighs as well.

"M-Mistress . . ." Axel softly scolded.

"Al_right_," Zeinara relented and rose from the bed.

It took Axel a moment to regain her bearings. She was still panting and embarrassed when she ran to the mannequin and took down the dress. Zeinara held out her arms and Axel helped her into the gown.

"Did you and your father argue, Mistress?" the slave whispered as she worked. "You haven't mentioned his majesty in days, and I thought . . ."

"Yes," Zeinara said through her fangs. "We argued about the Second Sun. He still won't tell me anything. He thinks I'm a pup. That I can't handle it."

"Maybe he's trying to protect you."

"Pft. By smothering me?"

***

"I tried talking to Zeinara earlier this week," Etienne said wearily. Jonathan helped him button his pants, accidentally-on-purpose letting his fingers brush his penis. Corene adjusted his coat for him, her eyes doting as she looked upon the pair of them. She was mussed and her breasts were still hanging out. Etienne closed the cups of her corset for her, gently tucking her great breasts away. She blushed furiously when his fingers touched her.

"How did it go?" Corene asked skeptically, trying desperately to ignore Etienne's paws on her breasts.

"We wound up arguing about . . ." Etienne folded his arms and glanced out the window.

"The Second Sun," Corene whispered, pushing a lick of white hair behind her ear.

Etienne turned his gaze away. "Yes. And her mother and my eye and everything but the fact that she likes females."

Jonathan shook his head and leaned on the desk beside Etienne. "It's time to tell her the truth, mate. Don't you think she's bloody old enough?" He looked at Corene. "What is she? Sixteen?"

"Twenty," Corene corrected and rolled her eyes. She shook her head as she adjusted Jonathan's coat, and he in turn adjusted the strap of her gown. "Just like Robin isn't sixteen but twenty. As I've told you a thousand times."

Jonathan shrugged. "They'll always be pups to me. Makes no difference." He looked at Etienne. "But even sixteen is old enough to know the truth, Etienne."

Etienne shrugged irritably. "I'm trying to protect her."

"By smothering her?" Corene scolded. She started fussing over Jonathan's collar, laughing when he caught her fingers on occasion and kissed them.

Etienne watched them and thought they seemed happier, as if they had gotten something out of their system by having sex with him. Go figure.

"What did you tell her if not the truth?" Jonathan demanded.

"I didn't get to tell her anything. She yelled at me about never being around. I think I cried . . ."

Jonathan laughed softly.

". . . then she stormed out. Probably off to Nkwe. She always runs to him when asking me for something doesn't work."

"Sweet Creator," Jonathan snorted. "Raising Robin was like living in a brothel with double-jointed _whores_compared to Zeinara."

Corene frowned disapprovingly at her husband.

Jonathan shrugged. "We had it easy, love. We could have been getting yelled at and hit upside the head with vases," he said, jerking his head at Etienne. "But I guess Etienne had the luxury of leaving his pup with savage murderers. So it couldn't have been that unpleasant."

Etienne frowned. "Don't start, Jonathan. I trust Nkwe and Mogethis with my life."

"Then you're a fool," Jonathan said at once. "Because it wasn't long ago that their god was trying to kill you or some rubbish. And what if they start hearing voices and try to kill you again? They have magic. None of your guards would be able to stop them."

Etienne looked away. "I trust them," he repeated.

"Then I pity Zeinara," Jonathan insisted. He looked at Corene. "We shouldn't have brought Robin here."

***

"So what did you do? I couldn't find you that day. It frightened me," Axel said unhappily.

"I went to Uncle Nkwe," Zeinara said and lifted her chin unapologetically. "I knew all I had to do was cry and look pitiful and he'd tell me everything. And he did. It turns out my mother is the goddess of the Second Sun --"

Axel gasped.

"-- and Father is so unhappy because he misses her desperately. There's a glass dagger here in the castle that can make her mortal. So if I can just cross the bridge of light and use it on her, she can come home --"

"Mistress!" Axel squeaked, watching with popping eyes as Zeinara went to her desk and opened the secret compartment in it. She held a dagger in the moonlight for Axel to see. It lay quietly across her palms, glinting, clear and watery as glass. Axel touched a finger to her lips and stared at it, tears starting to her eyes. "Please tell me you aren't really going!"

Zeinara frowned sadly. "But I have to, Axel! Don't you understand? The stories are true! My father is King Antony and my mother is Queen Nadheertia! All the fighting and killing will stop if I can reunite them!"

Axel only shook her head. "Mistress, if your father thought this would work, he would have done it himself!"

Zeinara snorted bitterly. "Daddy? No. Daddy doesn't do. He sits and pines and whines. He'd waste a_way_if it weren't for Judith. It's a miracle he runs the kingdom as well as he does. I can't imagine what he's doing on all those councils besides staring miserably at his tea. I'll do what Daddy can't. I'll be the one to finally unite --"

"No!" Axel wailed. "Mistress, you can't. I'll tell your father!" Axel made a run for the door, but Zeinara grabbed her by the tail and yanked her back. "M-Mistress!" she sobbed as Zeinara's strong arms closed tight around her.

"Listen to me!" Zeinara snarled, shaking Axel hard, her hot breath hitting the frightened slave's ear. She could feel Axel's heart beating furiously, and the slave's little breasts were rising and falling with her frantic breaths. The black nipples were sharp and wrinkled like raisins. And the scent of Axel . . . was heavenly. Zeinara let the slave's thick black mane curl against her mouth as she whispered to her, "I have to go. For the good of the world. For Father. For everyone. For you. It must be my destiny to unite dog and fox. Why else would I be a dog-fox?"

"M-Mistress," Axel sobbed and a tear glistened in her eye. "I'm so s-scared for you!"

"I know, darling," Zeinara whispered and rubbed the slave's slender belly soothingly. "But I have to go. I plan on leaving tonight. And if you stop me, you put the world in jeopardy. Do you understand?"

Axel nodded slowly and Zeinara let her go.

"Good. Now . . . bend over that desk, darling, and lift your tail. I want something sweet in my mouth before I go."

Axel swallowed hard, and trembling with anticipation, she obeyed.

***

"But we did bring Robin," Corene reminded Jonathan. "And I trust Etienne to keep her perfectly safe." She smiled at Etienne, smoothing her mussed mane back into her bun. "We should really return to the ball. You invited us to keep the nobles entertained, not you." She smiled a last time at Etienne, then gave Jonathan a beckoning glance and glided out, her ballooning skirts swaying with her hips.

Etienne made a move to follow, but Jonathan blocked him with his arm. His eyes narrowed and he glared at Etienne. "I hope you know what you're doing . . . your majesty."

***

Zeinara pulled the chair up to the desk, looking with hunger at the sex and anus on display before her. Axel had obediently bent over the desk with her backside in the air, legs spread. Zeinara guided one knee up on the desk, further splaying Axel's legs and everything in between. Axel's little breasts were hanging down and they trembled as she braced herself.

Zeinara leaned forward in the chair, extended her tongue, and licked. Gently. Softly. Slowly. Listening with growing arousal to Axel's shrill and helpless cries. She grabbed Axel's backside, and spreading the soft cheeks with her thumbs, she licked her anus too, pressing her tongue against the tender tight knot that flexed to escape the pleasure. She buried her mouth in the slave's sex again and sucked her clit. Axel sobbed as her arousal doubled, as her lips swelled, as her clit throbbed. Her arms were trembling to hold her up, and eventually, they gave away. Her cheek hit the desk and she shivered and moaned as Zeinara's mouth continued its slow assault. Her tail was flashing everywhere.

"Oh - ah! AH! AH!"

Zeinara spanked the slave's backside. "Stop that," she whispered.

Axel's tail fell still . . . but slowly started waving again. Zeinara grabbed it and yanked, pulling Axel's hips up until she squealed. She buried her face again, and with a moan, moved her head up and down, eating everything in-between. Axel was so soft and hot and wet, and the scent of her . . . made Zeinara shiver. She suddenly wanted their naked breasts touching, wanted to be on top of Axel, fingering her as they rubbed clits. But there was no time for that. If she was going to make her grand escape, she had to make an appearance at the ball first. The thought screamed away at the back of her mind: why hadn't she let Axel penetrate her? Somehow, the very thought of entering the world as a virgin horrified her.

"M-Mistress. . . . I can't take it . . ."

"Come in my mouth, Axie."

"Mistress . . . I-I'm afraid to! Your new dress!"

Zeinara didn't give Axel a choice. She flicked her tongue against the slave's swollen and suffering clit, and Axel screamed softly as she thrust her hips and squirted in Zeinara's mouth.

***

Etienne laughed sourly. "I missed you too, Jonathan." He made a move as if to leave, but Jonathan caught his shoulder.

"If Zeinara really likes females," Jonathan said, "then there is so much you can offer her in the way of wisdom, Etienne. Your bloody mother liked females too, and hell, I think Grandmother Victoria might have been a muncher, the way everyone goes on about her. Zeinara should understand the danger. She should understand what it means to be . . ." He glanced awkwardly at Etienne.

"Like us?" Etienne sighed. "Except we're not like her, Jonathan. We like both. Can she possibly understand that?" He started to turn away when Jonathan spoke again.

"For the last time, you twit: it's not about us, it's about her," Jonathan said flatly. He scowled. "Do you mean to tell me you never talked to Zeinara about her sexuality because you were afraid she'd judge you for your own!" He looked away, shaking his head angrily. "And beasts say I'm a selfish prick."

Etienne scowled. "I suppose not everyone can be you, Jonathan. Thank god."

Jonathan glared at him.

"In case you've forgotten," Etienne said darkly, "I am king of the bloody world. They may not hang kings for sucking cock, but they don't form alliances with them either. If Louis marches on Varimore and no one comes to my aid because the world hates me for taking it up the ass, who is going to pay for it? The kingdom. And my daughter! My father could afford to do as he pleased because he had that munter Donica. He already had Curith, one of the largest military forces in the world, in his pocket - I don't!"

Jonathan shook his head bitterly. "Make all the excuses you want, Etienne. The truth of the matter is, you are afraid to tell your daughter you have more in common with her than she realizes - though you'd be a fool to think she hadn't figured it out yet."

Etienne's chest heaved. Jonathan pushed himself up from the desk and came to him. He touched Etienne's face and whispered, "What are you afraid of?" But before Etienne could answer, Jonathan was kissing him.

"Mm . . ." Etienne pulled himself away and averted his gaze.

"What are you _bloody_afraid of?" Jonathan repeated and marched out.

Etienne stared out the window at the Second Sun and its light danced like fire in his blue gaze. His eye grew wide with fear. He could hear Zeinara. Screaming.

_Screaming as she burned. _