Page 101 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
He snorted.
“Do you trust me, Eloquence?”
“You’re a friend of this pack.”
Hisoka inclined his head, but in the way a teacher does when granting partial credit. Close, but not quite.
Quen sighed. “What do you want?”
“More.” The cat repeated his question with gentle emphasis. “Doyoutrust me, Eloquence?”
He’d always thought of Twineshaft as Dad’s friend. Like all his brothers, Quen extended every courtesy, treating the Five as honorary packmates. But courtesy wasn’t trust. Faith couldn’t be forged secondhand. This was his choice.
Eloquence considered the weight and worth of his next words, for they would be binding.
Yet the answer was obvious, as if the moment of decision had come and gone long ago. All Hisoka was doing was calling the matter to his attention. A mere formality. A mutual acknowledgment.
“I do,” he answered. “I have for a while now.”
“Oooh, me next!” crooned the tipsy dragon who sauntered straight into Quen’s arms. Draped and drooping, Lapis sighed boozily against his ear. “Say you love me, El-o-quence. Am I not better to you than cats and foxes and Icelandic interlopers?”
Hisoka smiled knowingly. “Come, Lord Mossberne. Sinder isn’t a rival for your place in Eloquence’s cozy den.”
“You would not turn me out in the cold, would you El-o-quence?”
Quen tried to see past Hisoka into the brightly-lit room. “Who’s Sinder?”
“An acquaintance from among the dragon clans.” Hisoka stepped back and urged, “Come in out of the cold.”
Lapis trilled his agreement, yet sagged more pitifully.
Having enough of delays, Quen all but carried him into the spacious chamber where Dad liked to entertain. For all the ruckus they were creating, the group was surprisingly small. Perhaps the noise level could be blamed on the star wine. Or on Gingko Mettlebright, who’d launched into yet another stanza.
Only Argent wasn’t singing, nor had he been drinking, judging by the amount still sparkling in the glass he’d pushed away. The fox spokesperson offered Quen a polite nod, then returned to shelling gingko nuts for the children occupying his lap.
Ever vied with Kyrie for the treats, but at a murmured word from Argent, the little boy’s gaze swung around. “Bruvver!”
“Having fun?” Quen scanned the room, but Lapis’ Icelandic rival wasn’t present.
“Yeth!”
“Help me get Lord Mossberne to a good, warm spot.”
The boy quickly trotted to a pile of furs and dragged one over beside Argent. “Laps wiff us. I warm Laps.”
The dragon’s expression went all doting, and he murmured, “If you insist.”
Argent helped drape the fur around Lapis’ shoulders. Once Ever clambered into the dragon lord’s lap, the fox deposited Kyrie there as well. For added warmth. Leaving the little ones to ply Lapis with gingko nuts and chatter, Argent gestured officiously to the cushion at his other side. “Sit.”
Quen sat.
Argent was relatively new to his position among the Five. Quen rarely saw him, barely knew him, despite their common ground—fostering crossers.
“Here he is, my maiden son!” Dad boomed. “Suitably suitored, properly pursued!”
And then Hisoka was at his old friend’s side, proposing a toast that granted Eloquence’s upcoming claim some much needed dignity.
Argent raised his glass with the rest, took a polite sip, and arched a brow. “A human?”
