CHAPTER 2: Knowledge or Assumptions?
"Plato?" Demeter hurriedly broke out his embrace.
"That's my name," Plato replied, hungrily following Demeter's backwards step.
"Did you hear something?"
Plato stopped and glanced around. He thought he heard the quiet patter of paws. "Go," he whispered to Demeter.
The black-and-gold queen did as she was told and headed towards the river, straightening her fur as she went.
Plato assumed a bored attitude and began to aimlessly kick around a large stone.
In less than two minutes, Cassandra stepped out of the bushes and stared directly at Plato.
Trying not to be unnerved by the queen's intense gaze, Plato greeted her with a casual "Hi".
Cassandra pasted a smile on her face and walked towards the handsome tom, swaying her hips and tail rhythmically in time. "Hi. What's a handsome tom such as yourself doing out here…alone?"
Plato shrugged. "Being bored, I guess. What are you doing here?"
"I was trying to find Victoria. Do you know where she is? I would have thought you would be with her."
Plato almost said, "We're not physically attached", but refrained and said instead, "She said something about visiting Mistoffelees."
"And you don't mind? I would have thought that a tom such as yourself" – there was that blasted phrase again – "would be liable to fly into a jealous rage in this sort of a situation."
"Well, you thought wrong." Plato huffed and turned away.
"Did I?" Cassandra moved closer to Plato and sensuously wound her tail around his thigh. She put her mouth close to his face and whispered, "What if I told you that I know something about them – something not exactly kosher…"
"They're just friends." Plato roughly pulled himself away from his seductress.
"They're having an affair, Plato."
Plato grimaced before growling, "You don't know anything." He knew, however, that what she said was true – he just didn't want anyone else knowing it.
"Oh, but I do, Plato." Her voice was in Plato's ear again. "I know a lot. I know where Victoria goes when she says she's going to practise her dancing – and I know with whom. And it's not you."
"You're a liar," Plato hissed.
"Am I?" Cassandra laughed cynically. "You'll see for yourself." She paused. "But I don't expect it will worry you too much."
"What do you mean?"
Again, Cassandra was pressed against him, and whispered confidentially, "As I said before, I know things. I'm no mystic; but I observe." Before disappearing, she added one last remark: "Munkustrap won't be happy."
Plato was left to wonder if these were just wild guesses or if Cassandra really did know what she was talking about, and, if so, if there was anything else she knew. He hoped her tongue wasn't of the loose or wagging kind.