A Fool's Paradise

Chapter Two

Isolode waited until the heavy oak doors had swung shut before turning her full attention to him. "You are a menace."

"I have been told."

"You embarrass my guests."

"Only the ones who arrive determined to embarrass themselves."

"You make a mockery of my court."

"Your court manages that quite admirably without my assistance. I merely provide commentary." Isolode laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound that softened the regal lines of her face. Vex accepted it with a small, satisfied tilt of his head, but he did not bow as though he had won a prize. He knew better than to mistake a queen's amusement for permission to overstep. She had allowed his interjections because they had served a purpose, and because she trusted his judgment implicitly, believing he knew precisely when his wit had ceased to be helpful. That trust had been painstakingly built over years, a fragile edifice he had no intention of squandering over a jest about gout.

The royal secretary cleared his throat, a discreet signal of the ongoing duties. "Your Majesty, two further petitions are awaiting your consideration, and the ambassador from Lethwyn has requested an audience this afternoon."

"Leave the petitions with me. The ambassador may have his audience at three." Isolode rose from her throne, gathering the voluminous folds of her gown in one hand. "And inform the kitchens that I shall dine in the rose garden, weather permitting."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The secretary gathered his ledger and bowed. The remaining courtiers followed suit, each awaiting the queen’s acknowledgment before departing. Vex stepped out of their path with a flourish of his gloved hand, all courtesy now that the formal business had concluded.

When the last of them had gone, he turned back toward Isolode. "Well managed, Your Majesty."

She gave him a skeptical look. "Are you praising me?"

"I am expressing relief."

"At what?"

"That you did not forgive a man his debts because he claimed to have gout."

"He might have had gout."

"He might also have been a saint in his spare time. I have learned to distrust the claims of men who require financial assistance."

"You distrust everyone."

"Not everyone." His mouth curved into a subtle smile. "I am very fond of the palace cat."

"The palace cat bites you."

"She has excellent judgment." Isolode shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "Come here."

Vex's expression remained pleasantly irreverent, but he approached without delay. He stopped beside the throne, close enough for her to brush the embroidered edge of his sleeve with her fingers. "Closer," she instructed. He obeyed, bending slightly so she did not have to crane her neck to speak to him. She could detect the faint scent of smoke clinging to his clothing, mingled with something darker and warmer, like cedar wood left too close to a dying fire. She had never dared ask him about his perfume. She suspected his answer would be infuriating, and she had no wish to encourage him further.

"You have been particularly unpleasant today," she murmured.

"My apologies. I shall endeavor to be worse tomorrow."

Her gaze drifted over the intricate embroidery on his doublet before rising to the mask. "You look handsome."

Vex went still for the briefest of moments.

It was a minuscule reaction, barely a pause between breaths, but Isolode, a queen attuned to the subtlest shifts in human demeanor, caught it. She smiled. "Oh? Have I finally managed to silence you?"

"No," he replied, his voice regaining its easy cadence. "I was merely wondering whether you had suffered a blow to the head."

"How disappointing. I was hoping to make you blush."

"Then you have chosen a poor target, Your Majesty. I have been called many things, but bashful has never been among them."

"Perhaps I should try harder."

"Perhaps you should try someone with lower standards." She gave his sleeve a playful tug. "Do you know what your problem is, Vex?"

"I have been told there are several. I should be grateful if you would narrow them down."

"You refuse to take anything seriously."

"An extraordinary accusation from a woman who has spent the last ten seconds flirting with a man she claims to find intolerable."

Isolode's smile faltered, only slightly, a nearly imperceptible tremor. Vex noticed. Of course, he did. He always knew when he had struck something tender, even when he had not intended to. Especially when he had not intended to. She released his sleeve and lifted her chin, her regal composure reasserting itself. "I flirt because I enjoy it."

"I am aware."

"Attention is a perfectly reasonable appetite."

"Naturally. You have the appetites of a queen."

"And what appetites would those be?"

Vex leaned down until his masked face was level with hers. His mouth curved into that familiar, wicked smile, a promise and a threat all at once. "Expensive ones, little goat."

She laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound, reaching up to tap one gloved finger against the cool porcelain of his mask. "One day, I shall discover what you look like beneath that ridiculous thing."

"How ambitious."

"And when I do, I shall decide whether you are worth keeping."

"How reassuring. I have been desperately concerned about my future."

"You ought to be."

"I am. I have heard your taste in men is atrocious."

Isolode withdrew her hand, the playful gesture replaced by a sharp, almost dismissive one. "Get out of my sight."

Vex straightened and bowed with exaggerated elegance, the gesture almost impeccable until the faint curve of his mouth gave away his amusement. "As my queen commands." He turned towards the doors, his bells chiming softly as he crossed the chamber. At the threshold, however, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder, his masked gaze fixed on her. "Do try not to miss me, little goat. I should hate for you to become lonely and start forgiving your creditors."

"Vex!" The sharp exclamation was torn from her, a genuine flicker of exasperation.

He laughed, a sound that echoed briefly in the now-empty chamber, and disappeared into the corridor. Isolode stared after him for several seconds, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Then, a smile, entirely foolish and utterly genuine, bloomed on her face. It was an utterly illogical reaction, smiling after a man who had just insulted her appearance, mocked her judgment, and compared her to a farm animal in front of half her court. Unfortunately, Isolode had never been particularly good at resisting things she wanted.

And she wanted Vex.

Not merely his attention, though she coveted that with a persistence that would have embarrassed a less confident woman. She wanted his hands on her waist, his mouth against hers, and the rare, fleeting moments when his endless mockery gave way to something quieter, something more vulnerable. She wanted to know what he looked like beneath his mask, what secrets he kept behind those narrow eye openings, and whether the man who could reduce an entire room of nobles to stammering humiliation might ever be persuaded to lose his composure for her. It was an absurd desire, she knew. He was her jester. Her tormentor. A creature who seemed to regard the world as one elaborate joke, and everyone in it as an unwitting participant.

Yet, he understood the court better than many of the men who had inherited their positions within it. He knew when a lord could be teased, when a servant needed defending, and when a remark might do more harm than good. He understood the weight of a title, the danger of an insult delivered before the wrong witnesses, and the particular usefulness of making a powerful man laugh at himself before anyone else could laugh at him. He was not above the rules. He was simply very good at discovering how much room existed within them. And he had never once behaved as though her crown impressed him. Her beauty, either. Or perhaps, she grudgingly admitted, he simply enjoyed pretending that it did not. That possibility irritated her more than she cared to admit.

"Your Majesty?"

Isolode turned towards the young lady-in-waiting standing by the windows. The woman had remained quietly in attendance while the audience concluded, as it was proper, and now waited with the composed patience of someone accustomed to the queen’s occasional distractions.

"Yes, darling?"

"Shall I summon Lord Evander for your luncheon?"

At once, Isolode's expression brightened. Lord Evander was twenty-nine, handsome in the polished, carefully maintained fashion of men who had never been required to perform a day's labor in their lives. He possessed broad shoulders, dark blond hair, and a smile that suggested he had been told from childhood that he was destined to be adored. He was also, Isolode had discovered, a very enthusiastic kisser. She considered that an admirable quality in a man.

"Yes," she decided, her voice regaining its accustomed clarity. "And inform him that I expect him promptly. I dislike waiting."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"And have the kitchens prepare something light. I intend to dine in the rose garden, provided the weather remains agreeable." The young woman bowed and hurried away to carry out her instructions.