By Chance Met (7 page)
Running his hand through his nape-length hair, he grudgingly admitted not for the last time that his benefactors had been right. Looking like a True Blood had spared him quite a lot of bother. Being Reijir’s ward, on the other hand, was a mixed blessing.
Most of his
enyran
schoolmates chose to be civil with him at the very least.
However, there were a few who let envy of others’ improved fortunes or disdain for those of lower station get the better of good sense. As for himself, he could not deny how blessed he’d been to come under a Herun’s patronage, and he refused to let others spoil his enjoyment of his good fortune.
Nonetheless, Naeth quickly spotted Reijir for he occupied a space virtually in the middle of the huge chamber. The Herun was engaged in hand-to-hand fighting against a brawny aristocrat some years his junior. They had drawn a sizable audience whose lusty cheers echoed noisily in the cavernous space.
Naeth appreciatively gawked at his guardian for several minutes, awed as always by Reijir’s martial grace and disciplined movements. But feelings other than mere fascination came into play as the Herun’s finely hewn body and sleekly muscled limbs were displayed to spectacular effect in a sleeveless shirt and snug long breeches. Naeth did his best to ignore the sensations Reijir aroused in him with nigh maddening regularity.
He determinedly forced his attention elsewhere and scanned the hall for Keiran. He
saw him a little distance away, pitting his sword against a taller Deir.
How young he looked, Naeth thought. Indeed it was not unusual for new
acquaintances to mistake Keiran for the younger Arthanna brother, a notion reinforced by the fact that it was Reijir who ruled Ilmaren. Perhaps the faint effeminacy of his features softened them such that he did not seem to age at all. Naeth watched Keiran deftly force his opponent to earnestly defend himself.
With a flourish that was almost theatrical were it not blatantly lethal, Keiran disarmed his sparring partner, giving the lie to the notion that his smaller stature and appearance of dubious masculinity barred him from being a skilled warrior. He smirked at his erstwhile opponent, then dipped his head graciously when the latter ruefully conceded defeat. He turned around as a broad-shouldered Deir came to him with a towel and a drink.
Ruomi towered over him. Indeed, Keiran barely reached his shoulder, an unusual sight considering Keiran was an
enyr
of noble lineage and Ruomi a
sedyran
commoner.
He quickly gathered Keiran’s things then escorted him out of the hall. Just before they exited the chamber, they spotted Naeth. Ruomi came over to briefly instruct him on what to do when Reijir was finished then quickly rejoined Keiran who was obviously in a hurry to go.
Many watched them leave, some taking care to conceal their curiosity, others openly intrigued and not ashamed to show it. Fortunately, Keiran did not care one whit what others thought and was untroubled by speculation about him and his affairs. And speculation there was in abundance since he had chosen to break with certain of the traditions that ruled the
enyran
upper class.
Naeth’s residency with the Arthannas had taught him much that he had not known as a country-bred Half Blood. He was not ignorant of Deiran betrothal and nuptial traditions—it was the custom to instruct one’s children in these matters as they approached the age of consent. But his parents had not imparted to their children the differences in culture between the upper caste
enyra
and the lower caste
sedyra
, doubtless because never in their wildest dreams had they envisioned one of their sons winding up a member of a True Blood’s household and an aristocrat of royal lineage at that.
Nothing had befuddled Naeth more than the sexual mores of the True Bloods.
Among the
sedyra
, sexual roles were completely interchangeable; no distinctions were made between partners. With spouses, the choice of who would bear children was based on capability—who had the more fertile womb or was the haler and thus could carry a child to term—and sometimes both chose to breed. The same rule applied to the selection of the primary caregiver—the partner whose time and profession were more flexible was the one who usually raised the children whether it was he who bore them or not.
But for the
enyra
, and especially among the nobility and upper gentry, such was not the case. From childhood onward, most True Bloods were assigned their spousal roles depending on circumstances. Foremost of those circumstances was an
enyr
’s rank in the family. A firstborn son and heir was expected to play the sword and sire progeny. Later born children could and were often designated as bearers that they might be wed to other families’ successors who would then beget children upon them.
This was not to say that the
enyra
never ventured outside their assigned roles but, as the acceptance of said roles was instilled in them virtually from birth, seldom did they act otherwise. Furthermore, the virginity of a highborn bearer was as important a clause in a
nuptial contract as the more tangible conditions of land, power and wealth. Many came to their conjugal beds with little to no experience, and even if one had some carnal knowledge, it was expected that he had not yielded himself to any save his contracted mate. Thereafter he only ever played the sword if permitted by his spouse. It was yet another source of bafflement for Naeth, and one he found as strange as the enforcement of distinct marital roles, if not more so.
The exceptions to this rule were the scions of the great Houses wherein entry into said Houses was a prized condition in many an arranged union and therefore precluded the demand that their members yielded themselves in intercourse. Thus, none of the Essendris, unless they wed among themselves, were expected to play the sheath to their sexual partners and even less the role of childbearer.
It was this particular tradition that had spawned the speculation about Keiran.
That Ruomi Garvas was his long-time lover was no secret, but who did the yielding in the relationship was still a matter of speculation. Which should not have been the case given Keiran’s social class and bloodline. Yet rumors abounded that it was Keiran who did and, even more shocking, lustily so, and that had been enough to reduce many a hidebound blueblood to outraged speechlessness.
The elder Arthanna brother oft declared he was not interested in a union of convenience, but in the remote event that he did end up in one, his spouse would have to put up with all the talk sparked by Keiran’s liaison with his brother’s lowborn Half Blood adjutant. Despite this encumbrance, Keiran did not lack for suitors. Naeth could only suppose the double-barreled lure of espousing a scion of both Clan Arthanna and House Essendri would more than make up for said encumbrance.
Naeth ceased his musings when the shouts of onlookers suddenly escalated. A glance told him the excitement stemmed from Reijir’s employment of a manner of fighting little known in this part of the world. He gaped when he realized his guardian had taken on two Deira and was now using a combination of precise fist and foot movements that enabled him to lengthen his reach and utilize his entire body’s strength in besting his opponents.
Within minutes, he defeated both Deira, knocking one down with a lightning-fast open-handed blow to his chin and turning the other into a crumpled heap of whimpering Deir with a high backward kick on the chest. The resulting applause increased in volume when he took the time to solicitously check his opponents for worse injuries than the usual cuts and bruises one expected of an encounter with him.
Naeth hastened to him with a towel and cool water, his hands trembling just the slightest as he wiped the sweat from Reijir’s face, neck and arms. He did fumble a bit when Reijir bent and hitched up a leg of his trousers to check a welt on his calf. The neckline of his shirt gaped open to treat Naeth to a clear view of his torso from chest to navel. Naeth gulped at the sight of a chiseled chest deliciously damp with sweat and nipples slightly peaked from the sudden brush of cool air as the Herun’s shirt fell away from his skin. He just managed to keep from discourteously snatching back his hands lest they wandered into forbidden territory.
“Has Keiran left?” Reijir asked when he straightened up.
Naeth nodded. “Several minutes ago.”
He watched Reijir pick up his tunic from a nearby bench and put it on.
“Why don’t you change your shirt first?” he murmured, handing Reijir his belt. “It’s terribly wet.”
Reijir shrugged. “It can wait until we get home.” He suddenly smiled at Naeth. “It’s your last day, isn’t it? How would you like us to celebrate your graduation?”
“Oh! I wasn’t expecting anything special.”
“Come now, surely you were hoping for something.”
“Nay!” At Reijir’s disbelieving look, Naeth admitted, “Well, dinner with you and Lord Keiran would be nice. And mayhap you’ll finally let me have a taste of that drink you like to have after a meal.”
Reijir chuckled. “Ilmaren cordial is quite potent for all its sweetness. You can actually get drunk on it if you haven’t the stomach for strong drink. But I suppose there’s no harm in a small glass on a full belly. Very well, dinner it is with all your favorite dishes, and if you can handle the cordial, I’ll let you try some Sidona brandy as well.”
Naeth grinned with delight.
Others might make fun of his idea of a good time, but as far as he was concerned, the simple pleasures of life were more than enough to make for good memories. Of course, sharing those pleasures with Reijir Arthanna made those memories absolutely unforgettable, and Naeth happily savored and stored up each and every moment with his adored guardian that he might have a veritable larder of them to draw from in days to come.
Naeth paused in the act of putting away his schoolbooks. The yearlong hiatus between the end of secondary school and entry into the collegiate level loomed before him, rife with possibilities. It was a welcome breather after six years of continuous schooling and the time to tend to personal activities before the start of another six years of higher education that was the mark of all Deira of decent name.
“I was hoping you’d allow me to assist you,” he admitted. Seeing Ruomi’s surprise, he explained, “I’ve been thinking about the future. About gainful employment and all that. I’m not cut out to be a solicitor or teacher, and I’m not especially gifted in any craft.
But I did help my parents manage what property we had—our house and the field behind it and the few animals we owned. I had to dispose of what was left after the fire to earn enough to make my way here. I got a very good price for them, too,” he added a little proudly. “So I think I’d make a decent caretaker and maybe even a good household adjutant like you.”
Ruomi eyed him thoughtfully. “You do realize such professions are not considered dignified enough for the gentry,” he pointed out.
“I’m in no position to be picky,” Naeth replied. “Besides, I think it’s up to a person to invest his job with dignity, even a humble one. And I know it can be done. You’re the best example of that, Ruo-
tyar
.”
The
sedyr
smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. It’s heartening for one’s efforts to be noticed, more so appreciated. Very well, I shall inform Reijir of your request. Let’s hope he approves it.”
Naeth did not wait long to learn the Herun’s reaction to his request. Within the week, he found himself tagging along after Ruomi on the latter’s daily rounds.
It proved more difficult than he’d expected. Ruomi’s work entailed much more than being an administrative assistant. It required paying close and careful attention to the
details of running a noble’s extensive ménage and dealing with a plentiful array of personalities. This ranged from the household staff to the professionals and tradespeople who serviced and supplied the Arthannas, to the many visitors who called upon the brethren almost daily for every social and political purpose under the sun. And the patience and judiciousness needed to maintain cooperation between the butler and the cook and settle the many petty squabbles among the liveried servants, stable hands and lowly scullions…!
By the end of the week, Naeth’s respect for Ruomi had risen a hundredfold. And his optimism regarding his own capabilities had decreased somewhat.
Nonetheless, he stayed the course, determined to be useful and hopefully gain a permanent place in the Arthanna home when his time under Reijir’s guardianship ended.
This latter hope he kept to himself lest anyone wrongfully think him too ambitious for his breeches. Not that it would be any better were the truth known.
It was one thing to aspire to warm the bed of a great lord; quite another for a guardian to require such a service of his charge. It smacked of abuse of one’s power over another, and while the political practice of it was not unheard of in Ylandrin society, initiating sexual relations with a Deir under one’s care was deemed reprehensible by polite society. And if that Deir was still below the age of consent, it amounted to rape and was punishable by law.
To avoid casting Reijir in the role of a debaucher of innocents, Naeth would not only have to wait for his thirtieth year, he would also have to make the first move. He seriously doubted the Herun would even make a move if Reijir was as much attracted to Naeth as Naeth was to him.
Of Reijir’s feelings about him, Naeth was quite certain. It fairly sizzled between them, this maddening yet delicious tension that bespoke carnal desire and hopefully presaged more intimate contact between them. But Reijir was not keen to go as far as consummation, either physical or emotional, of that Naeth was also aware.