The Queer Principles of Kit Webb

by Cat Sebastian

When they got back to the coffeehouse, it was dark and empty. Percy had already slept two nights in a row in Kit’s bed, and he was debating whether it would be indiscreet to attempt a third, when he was distracted by the sight of a parcel leaning against the wall. It was large and flat and wrapped in brown paper. “That wasn’t here when we left,” Percy said, eyeing it warily. “It certainly was not,” Kit confirmed, walking over to examine it. “There’s nothing written on it. No direction or name.” “Might as well open it,” Percy suggested. Percy couldn’t have said exactly when he realized what he was looking at. Was it after Kit tore off the first strip of paper and he caught a glimpse of blue paint? Or was it after the second strip was removed and Percy could make out the roofline of Cheveril? In either case, he tore off the remaining paper with his own hands and stared at the life-size portrait of Marian and himself posed before the eastern facade of Cheveril Castle. The portraitist had caught Percy in half profile, either turning his head toward Marian or away from her, and looking like he was about to laugh. Marian held the baby—who thankfully looked like a human infant rather than a small goblin—close to her chest, and wore an expression that hovered between serene and calculating. As for Cheveril, Percy could only speculate as to who had directed the portraitist to paint in the house in place of the duke. “There’s a scrap of paper gummed to the back,” Kit said. Percy mov...