23
FARES
Fares thinks the sunny-capped boy is delicious.
He’s perfect.
Perfect sun-kissed skin.
Perfect freckles.
A perfect laugh.
And he dances like a perfect fool.
He likes him better than the chambermaid. The chambermaid twittered at all his jokes. But the sunny-capped boy has his own jokes to tell. When he laughs, it’s a big, bellowing sound, and his eyes water like Fares’s. Bright, hazel eyes.
His hands are warm and smooth. Fares threads their fingers together and swoons. “Theodore,” he says, and he slurs.
“Tomas,” says Tomas. He laughs, and flicks Fares’s nose, and says his crown has gone askew. He straightens it.
“Tomas, I think you should come back to Aisla with me and my friend,” Fares says. “I shall open credits for you at every shop, and keep you in my pocket
