“You must mean a lot to Fremont.” Kestrel spoke again, this time more quietly.
Leandre had no idea if Fremont had told Kestrel, but decided to hold his tongue. “Why do you say that?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Kestrel smiled and offered the bottle of wine to Leandre. He declined. “The tail is not just for balance,” Kestrel said. “Look at Fremont and Estella now.”
Leandre glanced at the siblings. His eyes had adjusted to better see detail in the starlit evening. They were seated shoulder to shoulder on the dock with their legs dangling off the edge, and their tails were wrapped around one another behind them.
“What about it?”
“A devil doesn’t have complete control over his tail,” Kestrel explained. “It’s a part of us, just like our own heart, but it behaves on a subconscious level as well as conscious. The fact that Fremont’s tail was around your leg when you entered from the hallway is enough evidence to prove to me how close of a friendship you share.”
“Is it friendship if I held his tail during dinner?” Leandre asked carefully, sliding his gaze over Kestrel’s face. The prince silently stared ahead for just long enough for Leandre to regret his question.
“For a demon?” Kestrel finally spoke, raising a curious eyebrow. “I have no idea what that would indicate. Maybe a tail fetish of sorts.”
Leandre chuckled, understanding he had been out of line, and grateful the prince had reacted so well. “I do like how tails look and the attention one gathers in Fenian, but I wouldn’t call it a fetish. I would, however, trade my horns for a tail.”
“A demon with a tail,” Kestrel mused. “Wouldn’t that make you a devil?”
“I guess it would.”