As he and Alec came down the sweeping staircase overlooking the salon, Seregil grinned as he caught sight of Atre, together with Count Tolin and a few other young lords, lounging with a cluster of courtesans. Atre appeared to be the center of attention, as always.

“My, my,” Seregil murmured. “He’s certainly making inroads with the nobility.”

“Not only them,” Alec muttered, and to Seregil’s surprise, he sounded piqued.

He glanced back and realized that the courtesan Atre appeared to be paying homage to was Myrhichia.

Just then the actor noticed them and waved. Seregil smiled and waved back. Alec didn’t.

Outside Alec avoided Seregil’s questioning look. Myrhichia could choose whomever she wanted; he wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much, except perhaps because he knew Atre.

“Alec?”

“That was a good night’s work, wasn’t it?” Alec strode off through the crowd of late-night revelers toward the ornate archway that marked the entrance to the Street of Lights.

“Yes,” said Seregil, catching up and linking his arm through Alec’s. “Kyrin interests me greatly. Why would a roisterer like Reltheus have such a reticent man for a friend?”

Alec shrugged. “Reltheus seemed to be sounding us out about Klia.”

“Yes, and clumsily, too. He certainly takes an interest in the royal family.”

“If he’s really so interested in Klia, I wonder if he sees her as a threat?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Seregil murmured. “Something has Reltheus’s attention, and Kyrin’s. My guess is that they think all of us on that list are potential members of a rival cabal. And just because we don’t know about it doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

Atre had designs on Myrhichia from the start, but Alec’s unmistakable look of dismay across the room made it all the more delicious a challenge. Were the young man and the whore more than friends? It seemed unlikely given all he had heard and seen of him with Seregil, but clearly Alec felt some warmth toward her. Why else that sour look as he locked eyes with Atre?

He made room for himself on the couch beside Myrhichia, took her graceful, bejeweled hand in his and raised it to his lips. Looking up at her through his thick lashes, he murmured, “You are lovelier than silvery moonlight on the face of the sea. Your beauty makes me tremble like a green boy.”

Rather than blushing, as most women did under the influence of his charm, the girl tapped his arm with her fan and laughed. “And you are as charming as the smitten swain you played the other night, dear man. I think he said something of the sort to lovely Aphinia. You are my favorite actor, and playwright, this season!”