Cameron pocketed a book and returned to questioning the king. “Who are the spies?”

Isaac watched the king. The king paced the library. He pulled on his wig, trembling.

“I must attend the festivities. Catalina is loyal to the Spanish throne. Tensions boil between us. War is on the horizon. Marguerite from Britain. The British hold no love for me. Alas, there is also Thomas. A Frenchman who is loyal only to traitors and thieves,” the king declared. He moved toward the exit, his eyes on the clock.

His brown eyes were cold. His tone was demanding. Isaac wondered if the king respected them.

Jackson’s gaze was transfixed on the king. His shoulders were tense. Isaac had a ridiculous idea that was idiotic.

“Fine, send the three suspects to us in a few hours. We need time to prepare. We will be touring the gardens,” Isaac demanded, trying to look imposing.

“We will also need to be able to dance at the ball,” Cameron added, realizing what Isaac was doing.

He was going to sneak in romantic activities. Isaac was more worried about Jackson’s holiday than the king’s paranoia. Jackson appeared startled but didn’t protest. The king nodded, agreeing. He pointed them to the gardens.

“Guards will bring each suspect to you. Remember, you must find the assassin before you can return,” the king reminded them.

The king left the library. Isaac sighed, happy to be rid of the king. Cameron led the way to the gardens.

The air was crisp and chilly. The clothes were thick, but somehow Isaac remained cold. No one remained outside. Everyone had gone indoors to attend the ball. The garden was a maze of flowers and trees. It would be easy to get lost. The moon was full. The stars twinkled.

Storm clouds moved in the distance. A faint chilly breeze alerted them. To the incoming storm. Isaac shivered as the breeze blew through his clothes.

“This is beautiful,” Jackson muttered, grinning at the sight of Versailles and the gardens. “Imagine all the historical figures that are in that palace. The French Revolution is only a few years away. Incredible,” Jackson added, beaming.

Isaac rolled his eyes, smiling at his boyfriend. They both loved arts and literature. Jackson adored history. He drew Jackson into a kiss. Jackson’s lips were soft. He tasted of red wine. Isaac looked down at Jackson’s waist. His hard cock pushed against the fabric of his trousers.

“Seriously?” Isaac chuckled, his fingers trailing along the hard cock blocked by fabric.

If Jackson wanted to have sex, then Isaac was happy to comply. He wanted to make sure Jackson had the perfect day.

“We’re in one of the most interesting historical periods. It’s exciting,” Jackson argued, crossing his arms indignant.

Isaac said nothing. He focused on Jackson’s neck. He licked down Jackson’s neck to his shoulder, removing the outrageous clothes Jackson wore. He could feel Jackson’s heart pounding. His pulse quickened.

“We’re in the garden. People may see us,” Jackson whispered, leaning back as Cameron’s lips found his bare chest.