By Chance Met (19 page)

“Yes, I do want you to sort through your things, Kei-
dyhar
,” he said. “I’m sure you have a lot of clothes you no longer need given your penchant for the latest fashions.

Besides, the orphanage is the Ardis Lassen’s favorite.”

“It’s the one in the south district run by the St. Ambrion monks,” Ruomi supplied.

“Lassen tends to bestow his patronage on the neediest establishments,” Reijir commented. “Very well, I suppose we have some things we can do without.”

“Doubtless,” Keiran agreed. “Ruo, do see if I have anything worth giving away,” he airily instructed. “After all, you know the inside of my wardrobe as well as I. Mayhap even better.”

“He does?” Naeth unwarily asked.

“But of course,” Keiran replied. “Ruo often helps me get dressed in the morning and he
always
undresses me at night.”

Naeth gaped then darted a glance at Ruomi, wondering what the
sedyr
would make of Keiran’s flippant ribaldry. But Ruomi only smiled as he reached out his hand for another book. Naeth passed it to him with a grin. It seemed Keiran’s statement was typical enough of his utterances not to warrant more than amiable resignation from his lover.

Reijir grinned. “I’ll bring my contributions to your room later, Naeth-
min
,” he said, rising to his feet. “Come, Ruo, I have some missives that need sending soonest.”

As the two exited the library and headed for Reijir’s study, Keiran ran a proprietary hand over his simple but expensive burgundy jerkin. Naeth hid a smile.

Keiran could be such a dandy at times. But he did not take offense when accused thusly nor did he think it a sin to be fond of fashionable attire. That was probably why he was so well liked and even admired despite his eccentricities.

He likewise took his leave of Keiran and set about making his morning rounds. But

right after the midday meal, he informed the brethren he would be in his room sorting through his belongings for cast offs he could donate to the orphanage.

After rooting around his wardrobe, Naeth discovered his old pack in the very back.

He pulled it out and, to his slight embarrassment, realized he had not troubled to unpack it when he returned to the townhouse after his ill-starred attempt to fend for himself two years ago. He emptied the pack onto the bed.

Just then, Reijir entered the room with an armful of shirts and tunics. The Herun smiled when he spotted the heap of Naeth’s
sedyran
clothes.

“No more running away, I trust?” he said, adding to the pile.

Naeth blushed. “Must you remind me of my idiocy?” he muttered. He glanced at what Reijir had laid down. “Those aren’t really cast offs, are they?” he remarked, picking up a tunic he’d seen the Herun wear perhaps twice or thrice before.

“I have more than enough, and those children have little more than the barest necessities,” Reijir replied. “I wonder though—how much do they alter contributions from True Bloods?”

Naeth frowned. “Does it disturb you that poor orphans might be passing themselves off as
enyra
by wearing their styles?” he asked.

“Nay,” Reijir demurred. “What do I care if a Deir tries to better his situation by concealing his caste? I made you dress as one of us, didn’t I? But there are some who might take exception to deception and that can prove dangerous for the unwary.”

“How true.” Naeth impulsively planted a kiss on Reijir’s jaw. At the inquiring lift of Reijir’s eyebrows, he said, “I should have known better than to think you prejudiced in any way. You took me in after all.”

Reijir snorted. “As repayment for coming to my aid,” he reminded Naeth. “I’m not altruistic. I would have refused you my bed if I were.”

Naeth grinned. “But I sought it, my lord,” he pointed out. “And you waited for me to importune you first—out of honor. So you
do
have a streak of altruism in you.”

“Honor?” Reijir shook his head. “Protecting one’s reputation has little to do with honor. It was self-preservation.”

“As if you fear gossip and the like,” Naeth scoffed. He returned to his sorting. “You can protest all you like, but I am utterly convinced that you’re one of the kindest Deira in all Aisen.”

He did not glance at Reijir for his reaction. After spending the winter in intimate company with the Herun, he’d learned Reijir was more abashed by praise of his good-heartedness than compliments on his prowess in battle or between the sheets. Reijir Arthanna all a-flush from exertion or sexual release was a pleasure to behold but not so much as when the color in his cheeks stemmed from embarrassment.

Naeth idly rifled through his small jewelry case. He fingered his child’s suncrystal stud. Now that he was of the age of consent, the earring was no longer appropriate, all the more when he bore a leman’s earring. He set it aside. Perhaps Ruomi would help him sell it. He could donate half of the proceeds; the remainder would make a nice addition to his savings.

He chuckled as he pulled out a gold coin. Reijir saw it and said in surprise, “What, you still have the coin I gave you?”

Naeth nodded and returned it to the case. “I couldn’t bear to part with it. It’s the first thing you ever gave me.”

He chanced a peek at Reijir and was relieved to see the Herun regarding him with a fond smile. Naeth set the case down, pushing aside his old shirts to make space for it.

Feeling something solid within the folds of one shirt, he picked up the garment and shook it out. A small pendant on a silver chain fell out on the mattress.

Naeth softly exclaimed. “I’d forgotten where I hid this!”

He scooped the pendant up and was about to place it in the jewelry case when Reijir caught him by the elbow and stopped him.

“Let me see that,” Reijir said, taking the pendant from Naeth.

*

He curiously studied it. That was no mere decorative engraving on the face of the silver piece but heraldic symbols replete with a coat-of-arms and armorial bearings.

Above the coat-of-arms was the distinct tracing of a family crest. He frowned.

While the majority of the gentry could boast family crests, none were identified by the other components of the typical heraldic display. And among the landed gentry only the
serle
or baronets possessed the right to bear the badges or coats-of-arms that were vital in distinguishing among helmed and armored combatants on the field of battle.

Deira of the minor gentry were not entitled to heraldic bearings such as were engraved on the pendant.

“How did you come by this?” he asked.

Naeth shrugged. “
Aba
gave it to me when I turned twenty. My brothers received similar tokens as well.”

Reijir stared at him in surprise. “So this was not the only piece your sire owned?”

When Naeth shook his head, Reijir pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

He gathered the pendant and its chain in his hand. “May I take this? I would like to show it to our solicitor.”

Naeth looked at him in some alarm. “Why? Do you think it was wrong for
Aba
to own something like that?”

“Not at all,” Reijir assured him. “But this indicates your sire’s family may have been more than minor gentry. Surely you know the only commoners who bear such devices are the
serle
. Did you never wonder about his antecedents when he gave this to you?”

Naeth’s eyes widened. “It never crossed my mind,” he admitted. “I took it for granted that it was an heirloom passed down from Veres knows when.” He bit his lip.

“
Aba
never talked about his family. My brothers and I—we thought he had none left.

Adda
was also the last of his family so we assumed they were both orphans.” He swallowed. “Just as I am,” he said in a hushed voice.

Reijir sighed and walked to him. He lifted his hand and ruffled Naeth’s hair.

“I didn’t mean to recall your loss to you. I’m sorry,” he quietly said. “Nonetheless, I think you should learn who your sire really was. Who knows, you may still have kinsfolk somewhere.”

Naeth caught his breath at the suggestion. “I may indeed,” he murmured. He looked at Reijir and tried to smile albeit wanly.

Reijir smiled back encouragingly then brushed their lips together. Pocketing the pendant, he motioned to Naeth to continue his sorting.

unnoticed. But Keiran refused to cooperate and had the kitchen prepare a celebratory dinner for relations and friends who were in town followed by a lively toast in his honor in the gold parlor. More a roast, Naeth grinningly opined, as he listened to the numerous teasing remarks.

By the time the guests departed, the night was old, and Keiran, as was his wont after a long day, demanded Ruomi carry him to his suite. Naeth grinned as the pair left, wondering if they would make it to the bedchamber this time. In any case, he sincerely doubted Ruomi would get much sleep this night judging from the look in Keiran’s eyes and the burgeoning bulge in his crotch.

Reijir laid a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up.

“Come, Naeth-
min
,” Reijir said.

Naeth nodded and followed the Herun to his apartment.

“I couldn’t think of anything to get you,” he apologetically said when they came to Reijir’s door. “Ruomi claims there’s nothing you don’t already have, and Keiran-
tyar
just told me you’d let me know what you want.”

Reijir smiled. “They’re right,” he agreed and entered the sitting room.

“Well, what gift would you have of me then?” Naeth pressed on.

“A very precious one,” Reijir replied.

Motioning to Naeth to sit on the couch, he entered the bedchamber. Naeth idly awaited his return.

Reijir reentered the room with what appeared to be a bottle of wine and a fluted glass. In the next instant, the youth sat up straight, eyes wide and cheeks warm with color. The contents of the bottle were a vivid blue.

“Is that—?”

“
Mirash
.”

Naeth mutely watched as Reijir set the glass down on the couch side table and filled it with the liquid. The Herun picked up the glass and handed it to him. Glancing up nervously at Reijir, Naeth glimpsed a question in the Herun’s eyes.

It astonished him that even now, Reijir still gave him a choice and would not take it against him if he declined. His hand shaking slightly, Naeth took the glass and stared into its azure depths.

Mirash
—the potent conception suppressor of the Deira. Most often taken after a meal,
mirash
prevented the infiltration by semen of the seedbed in the Deiran womb.

Imbibing it indicated one was about to play the sheath in reproductive intercourse.

A very precious gift indeed.

After taking a steadying breath, Naeth slowly drank the
mirash
. It tasted like sweet wine but with a slight astringent aftertaste that marked it as medicinal in nature.

Nervously licking his lips, Naeth set the glass down on the table. He looked at Reijir, a small smile curving his trembling lips.

“Happy Begetting Day, my lord,” he half whispered.

Reijir’s eyes darkened tellingly. He pulled Naeth to his feet and led him to the bedchamber. Hardly had they walked through the door when he kicked it closed behind them and pulled Naeth into his arms for a torrid kiss that reduced his leman to a figurative puddle.

They hurriedly undressed each other, eager to mold their bodies together

unhampered by clothing. As they kissed and sucked and caressed flesh as it was bared,

tunics, jerkins, shirts and breeches dropped to the floor in rapid succession.

Undergarments however did not make it to the floor unscathed; at least, Naeth’s did not for Reijir all but ripped his drawers from his hips then bore him down on the bed. And before Naeth realized what he intended, Reijir leaned down and ran his tongue along the length of Naeth’s fast hardening shaft.

Naeth stared down speechlessly as his member disappeared between Reijir’s lips.

When Reijir repeated the motion yet again, Naeth threw his head back with a moan.

In the early days of their affair, he had either protested or questioned any sex act he thought beneath Reijir, especially if it entailed Reijir servicing him rather than the other way around. But after these many months of intimacy with Reijir, Naeth had learned to accept or resign himself to such acts, particularly if it appeared that Reijir greatly enjoyed performing them on him.

When Naeth began to lift his hips in response to the relentless suckling, Reijir cupped his raised bottom and took his shaft nigh to its base. Naeth arched up with a small cry.

Sobbing helplessly, he bore the relentless draw on his thrumming flesh. When Reijir also eased his seed-slick fingers up his backside, Naeth exploded with sensation, keening moans torn from him. He spilled himself down Reijir’s throat in what felt like an endless stream.

As he lay gasping for breath, he felt Reijir release his softening member only to lick his seed pouch of any remnants of semen. A slow flush suffused Naeth’s cheeks and blossomed into flaming color when Reijir nuzzled his groin, burying his nose in the sparse curls therein.

Reijir finally lay down beside him and gathered him into his arms. His pulse slowly returning to a more normal pace, Naeth opened his eyes. Reijir's handsome visage filled his vision. He smiled at Naeth’s wondering gaze.

"I've been looking forward to this," he informed Naeth.

"You have?” Naeth gulped. “Sweet Veres.”

Reijir chuckled. "And I look forward to doing it again,” he drawled. “As many times as you can take it.”

Naeth closed his eyes and groaned. The memory of Reijir’s mouth tight around his shaft was all too fresh. But he’d enjoyed the experience so very much and, truth be told, looked forward to being pleasured thusly again. And when he opened his eyes and gazed into the desirous depths of his lover’s eyes, he realized Reijir had not lied. The Herun had indeed enjoyed sucking him to completion.

Reijir leaned down and kissed him. Eagerly responding, Naeth was startled to taste himself. A compelling desire to taste Reijir as well swept through him, and he wondered if he would be able to please his lover enough for Reijir to encourage a repetition of the act. Reijir drew back and noticed his expression.