Julian rubbed his neck, his face still slightly flushed. Maybe he shouldn't cater to all of Alaric's whims, he felt. But those whims, he couldn't seem to get enough of them either.
Now the Duke had succeeded in leaving a mark on his neck where Lucius could see.
He was incorrigible.
Now Julian had to come up with yet another reason to believe that there were flying mosquitoes in the cold weather of the North. Great. The child was no fool, but he listened to everything Julian said like his word was law.
That cute child.
As he walked toward the East Wing, his boots clicking softly on the runners, he noticed the head butler, Mr. Henderson, overseeing the polishing of the grand chandelier.
Months ago, the man wouldn't even look Julian in the eye, treating him like a stray cat who would not last long due to the weather and the child's lack of proper response. He and the Nanny felt everything they did was for their Lord… and it was perfect, until Julian interfered.
