Free Shadow of the Father by Kyell Gold

the honey flavored with mint, but Yilon barely tasted it. He kept looking at the stairs waiting for Sinch to come down, his fur prickling with every second that passed. He finished his bread, finished the weak cup of tea, and the young rabbit cleared the dishes away, and still Sinch hadn’t shown up. Yilon looked at the guard, but the taller fox was looking everywhere but at him. Finally, he got up. “I’m going to go check on Sinch,” he said.
    The guard waved a paw toward the door, where Maxon had just come back in. “I will fetch the young master,” he said. “Your lordship should board the carriage.”
    “This is ridiculous,” Yilon said. “I’m not getting on without Sinch. Why don’t you want me to go upstairs?”
    “Your lordship is welcome to,” Maxon said smoothly, glancing around at the other patrons, where were taking notice of them. “But the carriage is ready. Take his lordship out to the carriage,” he said to the guard, “and I will fetch his lordship’s companion.”
    “I’m happy to go up,” Yilon said.
    Maxon started for the stairs. “There really is no need, your lordship,” he said.
    “He’s my friend.” Yilon paced the steward, trying to get to the stairs ahead of him, but Maxon was faster.
    “My lord,” he said, holding out a paw to stop Yilon, “you must understand that this was for your benefit.”
    Yilon stopped cold. “What was for my benefit?”
    “His lordship may have underestimated the friendship of his companion. Or his love of the great city of Divalia.”
    “What are you talking about?” The hackles on the back of Yilon’s neck prickled. He pushed up the stairs, past the steward, who hurried to keep up with him.
    “Or there might have been some other reason,” Maxon said. “Who can know the mind of… any of us?”
    Yilon barely heard him. He nearly ran down the hall, stopping dead in front of the open door of the room Sinch had been in.
    It was completely empty. Yilon sagged against the door frame, staring in and lifting his nose to smell the air. Sinch’s scent was strong, recent. He hadn’t been gone long. But how could he be gone at all? Hadn’t they walked through the previous night and said they would have to stick together? At least, Yilon had said that. Had Sinch agreed? He must have, he always would.
    Maxon put a paw on his shoulder. “The life of a lord is often difficult,” he said, steering Yilon away from the open doorway. “Many people will present a false face in order to win his lordship’s favor. Discerning them is a skill that can take a lifetime to acquire. I had hoped to spare his lordship the hurt of being abandoned.”
    Of course he had. Maxon, who had been so friendly and caring since Yilon had met him. The young fox stopped in the hallway and folded his arms. The steward took two more steps and then turned. “How did you know he’d gone?” Yilon asked.
    Maxon looked around him at the doorway. He paused and cleared his throat, and Yilon realized suddenly that that was the first time he’d done that since coming back in from the carriage. “The, ah, room was empty, your lordship.”
    Yilon looked steadily at the other fox. “So did you tell him that I told him to leave?”
    The steward stiffened. “My lord, I assure you I had no contact with—”
    Yilon had been watching his eyes, and had noticed his quick glance at the closed door across the hall from Sinch’s open door, the one where the two of them had spent the night. He didn’t wait for them steward to finish; with a quick motion, he reached for the latch and pushed the door open.
    The room was empty of their bags, but a small, plain, familiar satchel sat against the foot of the bed Yilon had slept in. Sprawled out on the bed, just lifting his head at the opening of the door, Sinch blinked at his friend.
    “Is the carriage fixed already?” he mumbled.
    Maxon coughed, in the ensuing silence. “Your lordship—”
    Yilon brushed past him and strode down the