Seeing is Believing Read Free Page A

thrills.
    Why they didn't just visit a brothel, Teofil couldn't fathom. Surely that was cheaper than trying to woo him into playing their games. Teofil eyed the poem unhappily. This was driving him crazy.
    Folding the letter closed, he slid it into its envelope and put it back where he'd found it. He didn't give it another look as he went about making his dinner. If his thoughts strayed once or twice … Well, he was allowed to daydream as long as he kept himself firmly grounded with the knowledge that his admirers were just looking for a thrill.
    *~*~*
    Cafon's house was beautiful. Teofil was waiting in a sitting room off the impressive front hallway. The small, silk-lined case that held the earrings was tucked safely into his coat, and he hoped the servant he was passing them off to appeared soon.
    The sitting room was a pleasant enough place to wait, with plenty of natural light spilling through the windows to show off the lightly colored furniture and tapestries. It was pleasant, but the basket of roses in the center of the mantle reminded him of the flowers still decorating his kitchen.
    They weren't quite the same colors—red and white roses, rather than red and yellow—but they were similar enough that he was having problems ignoring the thoughts he'd been ignoring since he'd received the poem three nights ago.
    He'd received nothing else yet, but Teofil was sure it was only a matter of time before whoever it was sent him something even more unsettling.
    The door finally opened and Teofil stood up, turning towards the door as the servant announced, "His Lordship, the Marquis of Westwood—"
    "Oh, do stop that," a familiar voice said, and Teofil froze as Rathiel entered the room. His Rathiel, dressed up in a lord's clothing, with jewels in his ears and the ring Teofil had designed on his finger.
    He looked much the same as he had when they were younger. He was taller, but he still had the same slender build, the same slightly lopsided smile, and the same piercing grey eyes.
    "Hello, Teo," Rathiel greeted as the servant slipped out of the room. "How have you been?"
    Teofil just gaped at him for a moment, long enough for Rath's smile to begin to falter.
    "I don't understand," Teofil said finally, shaking his head. "Rath, how—"
    "My mother accidentally fell in love with the former Marquis," Rathiel said, ducking his head in a gesture that Teofil vividly remembered. "He accidentally fell in love back, and married her."
    "You disappeared," Teofil accused, and then winced. He shouldn't speak to a marquis like that, even if he'd known the man for years. "We thought you moved west with the rest of your family."
    "We went east," Rathiel said weakly. "Westwood is half a day's travel east, ironically enough."
    "Why didn't you say goodbye?" Teofil asked quietly, trying not to sound pathetic. Rathiel had been his closest friend for nearly thirteen years; Teofil had been furious when he'd left without even saying goodbye.
    "We left quickly," Rathiel said, ducking his head again. "I could have … I should have written. I'm sorry, Teo."
    "It's all right," Teofil said awkwardly after a moment. "I mean, you had more important things to worry about."
    "You are important," Rathiel said fiercely, glaring at him as if daring him to object. Teofil stared at him uncertainly, flushing a little. Rathiel stared back stubbornly, and Teofil reluctantly smiled because Rathiel had always out-stubborned him.
    "I know you're here to deliver Cafon's present, but do you have time to stay for lunch?" Rathiel asked, running a hand through his hair and smiling crookedly. "I know some of what you've been up to, but I'd really love to spend some time with you."
    "I have to get back," Teofil said, making a face. He had too many orders to stay, despite how curious he was. Rathiel was a marquis … that would take some getting used to.
    Rathiel's face fell a little, and Teofil wrinkled his nose at him.
    "Some of us have to work for a living," he informed