Watching Gwen conduct herself as she went about her business was— in all honestly, he had lacked a properly poetic comparison for weeks now, and had not decided yet if his most recent was his most apt. ‘Kitten’ was the best yet, for the prideful way she held herself, the lashing out, the mercurial bids for attention. He was yet undecided, but surely the best way to have inspiration hit was to spend more time with her.

He made polite excuses a few minutes after she arrived, excused himself from conversations, and imposed his presence on her and her frilly cakes with a smile. Katell received his attentions first—a nod in acknowledgement, a murmured greeting before she slipped away. For Gwen there was a glitter in his eyes, constrained amusement, and a polite indication of her spread.

“I did not ask for contributions to my little party, yet here you are, proving yourself virtuous and thoughtful once more.” Because, really, could she put away that much cake all by herself?