When the thing happens that’s going to happen, the fox said, and for all the time afterward, will you promise never to tell any other human or fox that a fox who wasn’t bonded to you talked to you? That he defied his bonded human? That he brought you food? That he snuck in and out of the walls? That he was able to read your thoughts, and tried to manipulate your mind?

The queen was silent. The fox tapped on her heart and mind. She was astonished, processing rapidly his every word. She was a smart one; she understood what he’d done and what his request meant for Winterkeep.

She lifted her chin. “There are people in my life I don’t lie to,” she said. “One person in particular. I can’t make a promise to you that would break a promise to him.”

That was an interesting dilemma. The fox considered it. Could you tell him, then swear him to secrecy?

“I think so,” she said. “But what if something in his conscience compels him to tell someone someday?”

The fox had never studied mathematics specifically, but he understood the meaning of exponential. This was the problem with secrets and lies, even among trustworthy people like this queen. And his heart was sinking, because he’d broken too many of the rules, and now he would never be safe. Nor would foxkind. Yes, he said. I see.

“But I also see the position you’re in,” she said. “And you’re my friend. You’ve made this imprisonment bearable for me. You’ve even kept me safe, like that time with the letter opener. You have been honorable, helpful, and true. I can promise that I’ll never tell anyone I don’t need to, and that I’ll do all I can to protect your secret. I’ll also make every effort to consult you first, before I tell anyone new. Is that good enough?”

—

It was strange, how much better the fox felt after that. And how desperate he was for her to survive. She looked ferocious and grand whenever she parried with the letter opener as if it were a sword. She was completely unlike any human he’d ever known; she was wondrous. She called me honorable, helpful, and true, he thought. Honorable, helpful, and true. Can that really be, when I’ve betrayed my kind?

But what was I supposed to do? Let her starve? I couldn’t let her starve. Nor could I leave her feeling alone and helpless. I HAD to betray foxkind! Why are the rules what they are?!

He knew why, of course. Humans had the power to change everything in the world, including laws about the lives of foxes. Foxes needed to protect themselves. Keeping secrets and telling lies, letting humans believe that humans were in charge while foxes manipulated them, was a necessary protection for foxes.