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“You’re starting to make people wonder.”
“People wonder, no matter what I do.”
“This is true, but you are giving them more than enough evidence that their ponderings may be true.”
“Is it so horrible that I have a favorite?”
Peter outright laughs at that, drawing the attention of more than a few Lords nearby. Derek waits until his chuckles dim down into unattractive snorts before raising a brow at him.
“Do not attempt to pull the wool over my eyes, nephew. You and I both know that the King’s ‘favorite’ is almost never a good thing.”
Derek grimaces, both at the reminder of his title and the reminder of the danger that comes with it. He is just opening his mouth to rebuke Peter’s claim when a burst of laughter immediately pulls his attention, making Peter let out a gusty sigh in affected frustration.
Derek ignores him, watching as Lord Stiles Stilinski bows his head in embarrassment, cheeks a lovely pink as he does so.
The movement also makes a few of the hair adornments he’s wearing jingle, a lovely accompaniment to the light ting his bangle makes as he forgets himself and almost upends his talking partner’s glass, a ring catching the light as he steadies it. A ring that Derek put on Stiles' hand only that morning.
As Derek’s eye is tracing the collar Stiles is wearing, a collar that barely hides the marks that he made earlier, Peter shakes his head and salutes his nephew with his own glass.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”