Page 135 of Our Satyr Prince

“Isn’t that breaking one of the rules of the evening? No drinking indoors? No private parties? Everyone has to be out on the streets, mingling as one?”

“I hardly think a Sisterhood is going to burst in over one little drink.”

“They might. You remember what happened the last time I drank?”

“Last time you managed to bag a prince. I hardly think the grape holds bad omens for you.”

She politely refused, and they sat and chatted instead—about their reflections on the polity, about the people they’d both met. It wasn’t quite like old times. So much had changed in just a few months that it might never be like old times again. But still, it was wonderful to have him back. And as he told stories of the bars she’d not yet visited, she realized how much she’d missed the simple pleasure of his company.

The minutes passed.

First ten o’clock.

Then ten fifteen.

Then ten thirty!

Aurelius tried to comfort her—telling her that the streets were packed, and Calix was probably having a hard time getting through. After all, he hadn’t attended one of these in years, so he’d probably forgotten just how busy it got!

But despite his best efforts, the lump in her throat grew.

“Maybe...” she said, as the clock dripped toward eleven. “Maybe one cup wouldn’t hurt.”

70

AURELIUS

Aurelius poured his cousin’s fifth cup of wine as the clock neared midnight.

It was all going perfectly!

He’d spent the last few days wracked with nerves about whether Calix would somehow show up. The prince had spent so many years restraining himself and keeping his instincts at bay, that he feared Calix might just be foolish enough to test his control on the darkest of nights.

What had possessed him to agree to this plan? Some stubborn-headed desire to prove that he controlled the beast? After they had dredged up the horrors of how he became a satyr, was this some misguided attempt to prove that he was a better man than the one who’d left his men to die in Sama?

Whatever Calix’s hopes, they had clearly failed. Instead of arriving on a white steed to the cheers of his future subjects, Teigra was descending into fits of deeper anguish.

“Come now, darling. No tears,” he said in a soft voice.

“I didn’t even like him like that, Aurie!” she said through sobs. “It was just a deal. And he still rejected me! Even men I’m only agreeing to marry for a deal don’t want me!”

“Why don’t we head to bed? What would your mother think, seeing you like this?”

Teigra swayed to attention. “That... that bitch? Yeah, go to bed. Cause that’s what little Tiggy would do, isn’t it? The good lil girl who does whatever she’s told. Who smiles and bows and scrapes and never gets a single word of thanks for it!” She gestured with her cup, sending a spray of wine across the table. “But would you go to bed, Aurie? Huh? Would you go up and cry yourself to sleep?”

“Fuck no!” he said, rising to her energy. “I’d teach them all a lesson!”

“Damn right you would!” she barked, guzzling the last of her wine and dropping the cup. “Jaspar!” The minotaur sprinted out, stumbling in shock at the swaying, ruby-lipped girl. “Hitch the carriage! We’re visiting the prince!”

The minotaur didn’t dare disobey. And as they clattered down the road, pushing through enormous throngs of revelers, Teigra barked out commands of faster, faster!

Aurelius had never seen her like this before. She was possessed. She was delirious.

Perfect!

Before the carriage had even skidded to a stop outside Calix’s vineyard, Teigra was out the door, pounding on the villa in a clatter of glass beads.

“Open up!” she yelled. “How could you do this to me?”

---