Free Dame of Owls by A.M. Belrose Page B

her smile was clearly strained.
                  Freed from the distraction of bowing, Chris found himself distracted by her furred and pointed ears, which sat high on her head and swiveled quickly towards new sounds. She had pointed teeth and a sheen to her eyes, a striped and swaying tail. Her smile was warm.
                  Chris wondered why Sid didn’t like her.
                  Capella caught him up in an affectionate hug, and under her breastbone he could hear the rumble of her purr. The House of Housecats. Maybe big dreamers would have hoped for something a bit more ferocious, but Chris had seen housecats hunt. Ferocity would not be in short supply. Which might explain why Sid, with feathers in her hair, shifted her weight from foot to uneasy foot.
                  “Christopher, is it?” Capella asked. “An unusual name for our house, but no matter. Too late to change it now!”
                  “Probably,” Chris said.
                  Capella chuckled and patted him on the cheek, then turned the full force of her presence on Sid. “Dame Obsidian! Thank you for your efforts on behalf of our house. We owe you a debt for the return of our wayward son. I hope you didn’t run into too much trouble?”
                  To Chris’s surprise, she shook her head. “Very little. He’s easy to get along with.”
                  It took him a moment to realize that she was probably waiting for the queen’s orders on what to reveal about the Summer Court. Chris couldn’t say he agreed, not when someone’s home had already been invaded in a bid to get at him. Maybe the palace was safe. Maybe everyone thought the palace was safe.
                  “Well, you’ve made friends.” Capella took Sid’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “Your sister will be delighted. And of course you’re welcome here any time.”
                  “Thank you.”
                  If Capella noticed how stiff Sid was, she let it go. “You should help show Chris around. Be his familiar face.”
                  She was going to say no, Chris could tell, but he shot her a pleading look. This was all strange enough without her.
                  Sid sighed. “All right. I suppose it can’t hurt.”
                  Capella looked truly pleased. She beckoned over a young man lazing nearby. “This is my son Pollux. I’m afraid house business keeps me quite busy, but he knows everyone, and every inch of the palace.”
                  Pollux had a keener eye for Sid than for Chris, or probably the palace. Chris tried to be charitable – could he really blame the guy? – but jealousy tightened his chest. No reason to deck the guy , Chris reminded himself. This wasn’t a dive bar, and Sid would hardly thank him for it.
                  Pollux bowed to Chris and offered Sid his arm. She shook her head, and Chris felt uncharitably vindicated.
                  “I’m his escort,” she said, placing her hand in the crook of Chris’s elbow. “I’m beholden to keep track of him.”
                  It brought her closer to him than she’d been since they kissed, and the contact reminded Chris of her lips and the curve of her hips under his hands. He thought very hard about zombie movies.
                  As Pollux lead them through the halls, commenting here and there about some scandal or some bit of history, Chris tried to commit the details of the palace to memory. He tried to absorb the notion that this was his new reality. The people with antlers and fuzzy ears he could handle; the velveteen wallpaper and silver chandeliers were proving themselves a different story.
                  Some five-year-old part of him screamed not to touch anything, to maybe not even breathe too hard. The rest of him,