The Bachelor's Valet (Flos Magicae #1)

by Arden Powell

“It can be difficult,” said Jacobi softly, “to realise that a fond memory has been remembered differently by other parties."

"Never mind serving lords or dukes; you should be one yourself," Alphonse declared, drawing his hands over his face. "Your noble spirit is far too great to be confined to a life of this drudgery, and you can't tell me otherwise." "You're veering into melodrama, sir. I'll fetch you a tea."

"You and Jacobi." He waited expectantly for her to follow that up with something else. Instead, she merely looked at him like he was meant to have followed along. People often gave him such looks early in their acquaintance, until they figured out that he rarely followed anything but the simplest and most straightforward track. "You do like men, don't you?" "Oh, yes! I've only recently learned that was an option, but apparently yes, I do. Jacobi was the one who told me so, in fact. But what else has he got to do with this?" She stared at him. He blinked back at her. "Well, perhaps we'll revisit this conversation at a future date," she finally said.

"Alphonse. Alphonse." "What?" "Thank god you're pretty." "People often tell me that."

"Chin up, Hollyhock. I'm sure things will turn out alright in the end." "And if they don't?" he asked despairingly. "Then it's not yet the end," she replied, like it was as simple as that.

"I just wish you had told me that I was in love with you sooner. It could have saved us all this trouble."