15. For the Notes

They dressed in silence, stealing charged glances in place of words. Aesylt was desperate to talk about what had happened after they'd retreated to their own beds, but every time she got a bolt of courage, the moment seemed off. Either his back was turned or he was washing his face, or it was some other excuse her mind invoked to let her off easy.

The little splintered grunt he'd made when he had come played over and over and over.

An exhilarated thrill tore across her chest. The way he'd kissed her... It certainly hadn't felt very clinical. Very scientific. How he'd snapped her close... a small shard of his reserve disintegrating. When she completed her notes after morning meal, she'd spend additional time describing those fractional moments. If she were brave enough, she'd write about how they'd made her feel.

In the celestial realm, he was another man, less inhibited and more himself. She couldn't wait to learn more.

Rahn mouthed the words after you as he waited at the open door leading to the stairs. She flicked her eyes toward his, then demurely averted them, slipping past with a racing heart. He was close behind her all the way down, his steps echoing alongside hers in perfect concert. When they reached the bottom and the open arch leading to the small courtyard garden, she turned, once again seized by a moment of courageousness, but a gregarious greeting stopped her.

"Dobryzen, Aesylt, Rahn." Pieter took a crunchy bite of a mostly eaten apple and tossed it into a bush. His hood was pulled low and taut, and Aesylt soon realized why. It was pouring rain. She'd been so preoccupied getting ready, she hadn't even noticed the weather. "I trust you both slept well?"

Aesylt tried not to look at Rahn when she answered. "Yes, thank you. You were right. It's the perfect location to see the stars." She tugged her hood into place with a shiver. A man who looked like Hal, but was taller, nodded at her and she nodded back. Kezza, she presumed.

He made a hunh sound. "Not last night, I reckon. Another storm coming in."

"Yes, well, we didn't do any stargazing last night, with how tired we both were. You know, we both went to sleep almost immediately, hardly even spoke if I'm being honest, but I'm sure it will..." She looked to Rahn for help.

"Stunning views," Rahn agreed, patting his vest like he'd forgotten something.

Pieter slowly nodded as he regarded them both. "Good. I trust you'll pass many productive nights here." He turned and started toward the keep.

"Many," Aesylt replied, then shrugged and winced at Rahn when he gave her an incredulous look.

They jogged behind Pieter, racing to get out of the rain. Her head was down when her boots hit dry stone, so she didn't see the towering man until she smacked into him. "Lord Dereham," she said, looking up. "Forgive me, I?—"

Rustan Dereham smooshed her in a bighearted hug. "Our resilient little wulf cub has returned" were his first words, in a singsong voice that sounded peculiar with his deep, booming tone. He released her, holding her at arm's length. "It has been far too long, Aesylt. You needn't wait for tragedy for an excuse to visit. Tell your brother as much."

Aesylt bowed and smiled gratefully. "You're right, my lord. And I will pass the message to Drazhan as well."

"And you are not just the first duke to grace our halls, but twice now!" Rustan tipped a respectful nod at Rahn. "Though I seem to recall you telling us you prefer no deference?"

"Duke is a title I happily left behind in Duncarrow when I came to the Northerlands," Rahn said graciously. "I've always preferred Rahn."

"Scholar Tindahl," Pieter said, chiming in. "Is what he goes by now."

"A man of many names is a man who has lived." Rustan sized Rahn up once more. "Duke or scholar, though, I trust our Aesylt is safe in your hands and that no oversight of your studies will be necessary."

Aesylt read the threat, and from the look on Rahn's face, so had he.

"Steward Wynter was fine with your arrangement in the tower, but you both understand that after nightfall, you're to stay put. No wandering. The courtyard is teeming with guards. Hal and Kez are the best you could ask for. You needn't worry about being safe," he said. "But I'm asking you, Scholar, from one honorable man to another, if the arrangement works for you."

"I would never let harm reach her. We're comfortable with one another and will not require alternate arrangements," Rahn answered, his cheeks tightening. "We thank you for your hospitality while Steward Wynter works to resolve matters at home."

"The Barynovs won't be put down so easily. Weak men seek validation, not resolution. Your steward has his work ahead of him, dealing with that unruly baron. All Drazhan has to do is say the word, and we'll send men, end the whole ordeal. Ezra Wynter wouldn't have been too ashamed to call upon the generosity of his lord." Rustan tapped his chest with a cough. "Felice and Nyssa are already in the Great Hall and are beside themselves to see you, Aesylt. Stewardess Wynter should be there by now as well. Shall we?"

Rustan went ahead of Aesylt and Rahn, with Pieter falling behind. Aesylt was bursting to say something to the scholar, but the Dereham sandwich limited her options. "Quite the rain we're having. I'd guess it'll freeze over later," she remarked.

"Treacherous, isn't it?" Rahn scratched his fingers down his neck and tugged on his collar. "We'll need to be mindful on the walk back."

"Our men take the salt from the mines and lay it down on all surfaces the moment rain falls," Pieter said from behind. "You needn't worry about safety in your lord's domain."

Rustan stiffened when his son spoke.

No one else said anything until they entered the Great Hall. Aesylt spotted Imryll in the center of the endless table and broke away, rushing toward her. Imryll stood and wrapped Aesylt in a fierce embrace and whispered, "We'll talk after."

Aesylt kissed her cheek. "Where's Aleksy?"

"In the nursery with Hadden."

"Hadden?" Aesylt frowned in confusion.

"Much has changed since we last broke bread, Aesylt." Felice, Rustan's wife, rose and brushed kisses along both of Aesylt's cheeks. Her golden curls were piled high and tight against her narrow, comely face. "Hadden is my son. He's two."

"You have another son, my lady?" Aesylt asked as she dipped into a perfunctory bow. Had she been so wrapped up in her own world that she'd missed the announcement?

Felice shot an icy look at Pieter, still smiling at Aesylt. "Needs must," she said tersely. "Shall we break our fast?"

Aesylt caught Nyssa smiling at her from the other side of the table as they all took their seats, and she smiled back, stunned to see how much her childhood playmate had matured. She had been around six or seven when Aesylt had seen her last, and now was staring down womanhood. Her cheeks bloomed with radiance, her dress cut less modestly now that she was on the marriage market. Even her buoyant blonde waves had been styled with drawing attention in mind. There was no negotiation prize with more bargaining power in the north than a Dereham bride.

Aesylt waited as the table was laden with several generous trays of bread, jam, and fruit. A heady aroma arrived with a smaller tray, comprised of meat shaped into small disks. Swine, she thought, breathing deep, trying to remember the last time they'd eaten meat during morning meal in the Cross.

"Lady Dereham, Lady Nyssa, it's lovely to see you both again," Rahn said as he spooned steaming food onto his plate. "We will try not to be an imposition while we're here."

"Most of our guests want something material from us. Money. Land." Felice smiled at the attendant who poured her port wine. "Your only requirement is a safe place to conduct research, which makes you a far more intriguing visitor than we've had in some time."

"I'm not surprised, Aesylt, not at all," Nyssa said, her hands flitting about in exuberant passes. "You were always so curious about everything. Just like Pieter." Her smile faded.

Rustan cleared his throat and dug into his pork. "Tell us about this research. Steward Wynter said you're working on a compendium for the realm?"

Aesylt exchanged a glance with Rahn. He started to speak but then stopped himself when he saw she was. She did the same, until they both sputtered into awkward laughs. "It's Imryll's passion," she said, smiling in Imryll's direction. "She's been kind enough to invite us into it."

"Ah, yes, she's told us all about it. How as soon as the Reliquary caught wind of it, they stepped in and took charge. How unsurprising that the crown darlings would take without restraint," Felice said. She tapped her spoon against the air. "You're charting the stars, Pieter said?"

"That's right," Aesylt said carefully. "We've been working on it for months, and once the observatory in the Cross is ready, we'll be able to do so much more. We believe that understanding the stars in our sky will answer many other questions about our world, previously unknown to us."

"Fascinating," Pieter said, leaning in and dropping an elbow onto the table. "For once, I agree with Nyssa. I'm not surprised at all to see you walk this path."

"Well, what else is she supposed to do, with her brother being so obstinate about betrothing her?" Nyssa quipped. "A woman must pass her hours in some usefulness. Thank the Guardians the scholar came along."

"Aesylt is an excellent scholar in her own right." Rahn fingered his mug of ale. "I don't know that I could do this without her."

Aesylt felt herself flush. "Scholar Tindahl came to the Cross with years of instructive experience. We're fortunate to have him."

"Well surely, anyone could stare at stars and write what they see," Nyssa said, suddenly dour. Aesylt had been watching her watch Rahn for the past few minutes.

"With all the two of you seem to have in common, it's a wonder Steward Wynter has not made a more formal match," Rustan said through a mouthful of food. His next words were unintelligible.

"Perhaps because she'd be marrying up more levels than is acceptable," Nyssa muttered with an impudent lift of her brows.

Aesylt lowered her fork and stared at her old friend in disbelief. Nyssa's eyes were the same, her face more mature and angular, but she'd aged into a person who was only a shadow of the sweet girl Aesylt had played with and shared childish secrets with.

"He's considerably older, dear," Felice stated. "Though, I suppose that was true of us, wasn't it, Rustan? But your father was relentless."

"Mine?" Rustan directed a skeptical look at his plate. "This is your second trip here, and this time you must tell us about Duncarrow, Scholar. Is it as debaucherous and bloody as the rumors say? And you must be old enough to remember where you came from before that, yes?"

Aesylt tensed on Rahn's behalf. She answered for him without thinking. "Rumors are far less interesting than reality, my lord. This is why I'm so curious about what Pieter has been up to these years."

Pieter dabbed his face with his napkin. His nostrils flared, but it was the only evidence he was disturbed by the question. "I've been away studying. It began as a short expedition with my childhood scholar, and over time, I decided I rather liked it."

"More than us," Nyssa said with a pout. She slid her spoon across her plate without collecting anything.

"Never." Pieter grinned.

"Were that true, you'd have bothered to visit us more than twice." Felice sipped her port. "And I would not, at the ripe age of fifty, have an almost-two-year-old son I now have to groom to take his father's place. Pray your father does not spend his promise early, or I'll be ruling the Northerlands myself until Hadden comes of age. Guardians deliver us all."

"Fel," Rustan cautioned with a tight head shake.

The years since Aesylt had last been to Wulfsgate came into sharp relief. Pieter had defected in favor of his studies, Felice had birthed a replacement heir, and the weight of both loomed impossibly heavy over a family that had once been so close, even loving. "Well, perhaps we can... discuss the nature of your studies another time," Aesylt said.

Pieter nodded. "Another time."

"Stewardess Wynter, perhaps you'd like to tell us about Duncarrow then." Rustan slumped back in his chair with a thoughtful look at nothing.

"Oh. I..." Imryll furrowed her brow. "What would you like to know, my lord?"

"Why you would give up such a distinguished title as princess, for one."

"It may be you find the title distinguished because you've never had to wear it." Small titters echoed down the table. "I never wanted it and was told I was not fit for it. They only gave it to be me because they were persuaded by my perceived easiness to control. They were wrong. King Torian was my dearest friend. His dying made the keep unlivable for me." She sighed deep and tried to smile. "Witchwood Cross is home for me in a way Duncarrow never could be. I may not have met my husband in the most traditional way, but fate put him in my path for a reason. And I thank fate for it every day."

"My bodyguards are all ugly old men," Nyssa complained. "Is this why, Mother? You're worried I'll run off to some far-flung village and elope with one?"

"You are uncouth and will be lucky to marry the woodcutter's son with that mouth," Felice snapped. "Stewardess Wynter, by all accounts, you have made the steward an honest, settled man, and there were years we were not certain it was possible. Ignore my daughter, who has only learned to receive respect, not give it."

Nyssa hmphed at her plate.

"It's quite all right, my lady. I would be a fool to expect others not to be curious about the princess who defected with her guard." Imryll set her napkin on the table. Aesylt caught her eyes, witnessing a darker pain than her words would allow. "Would it be rude for me to excuse myself to check on Aleksy? He didn't sleep well last night."

Felice waved a hand. "Being a mother must come first."

Imryll lifted from the table, bowed, and left in a rush.

"Is talking about Duncarrow so undesirable that Aesylt would change topics and Imryll would flee the room?" Rustan asked with a wry grin. The question was loaded though. Few men in the realm hated the crown as much as Rustan Dereham.

Aesylt tried to answer, but Rahn stayed her with a quick nod and a smile that didn't fully form.

"I have few memories before Duncarrow, my lord, and I spent my years on the island teaching others. There's little to tell that would not bore you," Rahn explained. "Like Imryll, I've found a greater sense of purpose in Witchwood Cross and am grateful for the opportunity provided by the steward and his generosity. And to you, for allowing us to continue while we wait." He dabbed his mouth and pushed back. "If I recall, there's a section of the Wintergarden covered by a canopy of branches that protects you from the elements. If you don't mind, I'll indulge myself in a stroll before the ice sets in. Thank you for the excellent meal."

Aesylt rose, but he shook his head and left without her.

Felice was next, declaring she had an appointment with her seamstress, and then Rustan, who had business in the village.

"The scholar really has no wife?" Nyssa asked, frowning at the door everyone had exited through. Her face was half-lit by the roaring hearth, the other side steeped in shadow.

"Correct," Aesylt said. She watched the door, slighted by Rahn's gentle rejection. "And has no desire for one."

"Do the two of you talk about your desires often?" Nyssa's tone was impish, with a matching grin. "And does your brother know?"

"The scholar is a treasured friend of the Wynters," Aesylt replied testily. "And Drazhan encourages my passion for science."

"Passion for science or for the beautiful man who could bring a village to his knees with that soft voice of his?"

"Our relationship is purely professional, Nyssa."

"And what does professional mean to you, Aesylt?"

Aesylt glanced at Pieter for help, but he seemed amused by the fraught exchange. She could only wonder, bewildered, where the beautiful coquette goading her had come from and where she'd put her old friend. "Nyssa, what you're implying is, frankly, dangerous and could lead to unnecessary trouble for him. I'm not the only researcher in his cohort."

"Just the one he couldn't bear to be parted from." Nyssa stood, lifting her skirts with a soft bow. "I must join Mother with the seamstress. Only the best for the ball."

"Ball?" Aesylt asked, but Nyssa lifted her head high and took her answer with her.

"More of a cozy soiree now, a coming out of sorts for her marriageability, which is just a formality," Pieter explained when she was gone. He leaned over and grabbed Nyssa's half-drunk wine, finishing it. "Mother still wants to open the ballroom, which is absurd. There won't be more than a couple dozen people in attendance, now that the village is on lockdown."

"Because of us."

He shrugged. "No one else will say it, but they're all a little relieved not to have to put on the full show."

"Well, thank you so much for your help back there," Aesylt muttered and stood. "What did you do with the Nyssa I remember?"

"She's grown up." He laughed.

"She hates me, and for no reason."

"She's jealous," Pieter said, standing with her. "She sees how he looks at you and wonders why no man has ever looked at her like that."

Aesylt crossed her arms. "And how's that, when Nyssa can clearly turn the head of any man in a room?"

"Turn his head, yes," Pieter said. He quaffed down the rest of his mother's port and Imryll's wine as he moved around the table toward Aesylt. "But his mind? Hmm. Nyssa will never fail to arouse desire in a man, but how many would look deeper? And should they decide to, what even would they find worth exploring?"

She was appalled. "You speak of your own sister with such scorn."

"Ah, no. You're a woman of science, Aesylt, and I do not have to remind you that explaining something as it is, and not as it should be, is the only way."

She scoffed. "You never said where you've been all these years."

He sidled up beside her, balking at her involuntary cringe. "We've only just reunited, and already I've put you off."

"You and your sister have both changed." She lifted her head. "But so have I."

Pieter lowered his head. "I never meant to upset you. Forgive me." He bowed. "I hope you'll enjoy the books I've left for you and the scholar in the tower. Most are about the village or the grounds, which could be of interest to a couple of curious scholars. May they enhance your stay here."

Aesylt found Imryll in the nursery. She was rocking Aleksy and Hadden both in her arms, the boys fast asleep on each shoulder.

I can come back, she mouthed, but Imryll waved her in.

"The governess will be along soon," she said softly. "How are you settling in?"

Aesylt breathed deep and plopped onto a bench across from Imryll. "They put us in one of the bell towers."

"Draz told me. I worried it might be an awkward arrangement for the two of you, but they don't want you wandering about at night, so there we have it."

"He said he wanted me to see the stars."

"Can you?"

"Not with these clouds," Aesylt replied, shrugging. Badly, she wanted to reveal the truth—to offer Imryll reassurance of her and Rahn having the research well in hand, that the Reliquary's bullying wouldn't work because the cohort had two fearless scholars willing to do whatever the science demanded. But Imryll would immediately want to protect her. "But we'll do everything we can. You can be sure of it."

Imryll brushed her lips across the heads of both babes with a tired smile. "Whatever you can accomplish will be enough. It has to be." She sighed. "I know you want answers, and I wish I had some. But I'll tell you what I do know."

Aesylt nodded, lowering her eyes in respect. "Thank you."

"Val is apparently speaking now. What he has said, no one will tell us. They're still pushing, harder than ever, for a betrothal, and now there are rumors they've secreted Marek out of the Cross. Your brother isn't opposed to war, but he needs Barynov to draw the first sword, and there's no indication of how soon it will happen." Imryll ceased rocking. "Draz has forbidden messenger ravens between the Cross and Wulfsgate, and we're to pass communications through his scouts, who can only travel as fast as the weather and roads allow. We could be here days. Weeks. I don't know."

None of it was good, but now she knew. "How far along are you?"

"Oh..." Imryll glanced downward. "A season, at most. It was Draz who noticed the changes in me before I did."

Aesylt smiled. "He's a different man with you. He worships you. Of course he noticed."

Imryll resumed rocking with a wistful smile. "One will come along who sees you. All of you. Whether you want that... Ah, that's another thing besides. But you should settle for nothing less. You deserve happiness."

It was Imryll's way of telling her Val wasn't the right man, though it was Rahn's face making appearances in Aesylt's mind during the brief speech. "Happiness to me is having the freedom to make the same choices a man would. Drazhan would love to see me studying for the rest of my life, if it keeps me from frolicking with the menfolk."

"It's not up to him, in the end."

Aesylt knew that; it never had been. But she allowed Drazhan's thin authority on the matter to warm the distance still thawing over the lost years. If she ever actually found someone worth fighting for, Drazhan's obstinance would mean little.

Imryll broke the silence. "Speak to him as an equal and tell him what you want. Never ask, because then you're subject to the man's unpredictable whims."

Aesylt nodded, her thoughts drifting to the recent past. "Imryll, I did something I really should not have. I told Val?—"

"I know what you told him. I once did something similar, for someone I cared about." Her gaze drifted. "What the Barynovs are doing now has nothing to do with private words exchanged between old friends. They've been angling for you since you were a little girl. You're twenty now, and they see your childbearing years ticking away."

"Oh, an old maid now, am I?"

Imryll didn't smile. "To those who would deal with women as commodities, yes."

"If I were already married, they'd have to drop the matter."

Imryll gripped the babies and pitched forward.

"I wasn't suggesting I do that." But what was she suggesting? Why had she said it at all? Why had it even come into her head? "Only pointing out it is one way to end the matter."

Imryll was appalled. "The Barynovs would view it as an act of war, and that's to say nothing of how your own life would be turned upside down."

Aesylt stood. "Forget I said anything. Sometimes I think aloud, to my detriment." She went to Imryll and kissed her cheek, then peppered kisses atop Aleksy's sleeping head. "I should find Scholar Tindahl. He seemed upset by the lord's questions."

Imryll watched her over the children's heads. "You're very perceptive, Aesylt. Not everyone wants their past dredged, even to satisfy the curiosity of a lord."

Rahn stood over the desk, his hands gripping each end, the three pages of instruction notes for the curricula spread over its smooth surface. He'd been reading for the past hour, working up to how to position things to Aesylt. Striking the right balance between engaged and indifferent would become more challenging as they moved through the full suite of requisites.

The door whipped open, and Aesylt came storming in, huffing. "Of course, the very last place I look. For the love of the bloody Ancestors."

Imagining the frustrated flush in her cheeks put a smile on his face. He turned and was rewarded with exactly that. "I can't imagine why the homebase for our research would be the last place you'd look, Squish, but your persistence was rewarded."

Aesylt whipped off her cloak and tossed it over the stand. "Why? Because you said you were going for a walk in the Wintergarden. With that in mind, I spent the past hour?—"

"You searched for me for an hour?" Rahn removed his spectacles.

Aesylt's indignant glower transformed into a light pout. Her rain-soaked hair clung around her face. "I was worried about you. After Lord Dereham... Well, the man isn't well acquainted with subtlety, is he?"

Rahn smiled to show her he was all right, wondering if he might convince himself in the doing. The questions had sent him on a tortured walk in the garden, which had made him realize what he needed most was to engross himself in something meaningful. "Every person I meet wants to know about Duncarrow. Dereham tried it on me a year ago, and I suppose he thought he might have a different outcome this time."

"But—"

"The only stories he's interested in aren't mine to tell." A half lie. Not a half-truth, for Rahn didn't believe half-truths were anything more than tempered deceptions. "And if he wants to know about Ilynglass, well..." He shrugged.

Aesylt nodded slowly, squinting as she assessed him... the situation. "What's on the desk?"

"The guidelines for our curricula." He nodded behind him. "I had some thoughts on how we might proceed."

She brightened and came toward him. "The day is yet young."

What Rahn needed to do was learn to control the rate of his heart when she was close, but it always caught him delightfully unawares, like a breeze on a warm day. She sidled up next to him and leaned over his shoulder, near enough for him to catch the soft cherry blossom petals she must have walked through in her search for him.

He cleared his throat and tapped the first page. "There are three graduating segments, each more advanced than the last, and the rules specify we must move through one segment to reach the next."

"I've read it." Aesylt leaned closer. "We may need to revisit kissing, since we both failed at our notes last night." She mercifully mentioned nothing about what had happened after. She stepped around him and knelt instead, reading. "The crotchety old men writing these curricula may lack in many things, but certainly not creativity," she muttered. "I missed the part before, where there are four dozen couples doing this. That certainly makes more sense than just us."

"Does beg the question, who are these other couples, if we're not the ones seeking them out?" Rahn traced his finger down the page, starting at the top.

Coitus Curriculum: General Instructions

The team is expected to answer all questions about physical and emotional response, and to give especial consideration to how these answers change as they advance through each segment and sub-segment.

Each segment has specific instructions and requisites that must be met for the research to be accepted and logged into the final record.

For additional instructions and clarifications, please refer to addendum 78.

These instructions are written with partners of opposite genders in mind. For other variants, please write for different instruction.

Segment One: Coitus as a Ladder

In this first segment, the designated team will perform each of the four "rungs" at least once, before advancing to the Ballroom Segment. They are encouraged to meticulously practice each rung in order to be fully prepared for the next phase, and to ensure completeness of notes.

Rung One: Kissing (closed mouth, open mouth, short duration, long duration)

Rung Two: Oral coitus (must be performed both female to male and male to female)

Rung Three: Digital penetration (male to female)

Rung Four: Vaginal penetration with male completion

Segment Two: Coitus as a Ballroom

In the former segment, the team "climbed" a ladder of natural advancement to reach this point. They may think of this as the experimental segment. Similar to a grand ball, the couple can explore different variations on what they have already done, to learn whether these activities enhance or degrade the overall experience.

Acceptable activities include coitus at different phases of the female's moon cycle, delayed or denied release, increased frequency, adjustments in diet (to monitor for changes in taste or sensation), variable locations, introducing outside stimuli, tandem self-pleasure, coitus while under the influence of inebriation, and anal penetration.

Segment Three: Coitus as a Battlefield

Not all teams will advance to the Battlefield Segment. No formal documentation exists on any of these activities, so any provided by the team will be appreciated, and their efforts lauded and rewarded accordingly.

Acceptable activities include coitus while bound and in submission, questionable consent, paraphilia, and multiple sexual partners in the same act. Should the researchers have additional ideas for this segment, please proceed and include the details and results with your notes.

We unintentionally skipped ahead to the ballroom last night, Rahn thought, wondering if she was thinking it too. If she remembered the creaks coming from his bed... the sounds he'd tried to strangle in his throat. He couldn't stop thinking about hers.

Aesylt finished reading and straightened. "Can I ask you something, Scholar?"

"Of course."

"Have you kissed many women?"

The question surprised him enough to look up. "Many would be an overstatement."

Aesylt nodded, processing. "This isn't a scientific question. I'm only curious, as I've never thought to ask Val or Nik. You can be honest. In fact, I would be hurt if you weren't."

"What was the question?"

"Would you say I'm a competent kisser?"

Rahn sputtered through his first attempt at a response. He didn't know what qualified someone as a competent kisser, but the few he'd had with her were certainly the most memorable. "I wouldn't change anything in your technique."

Aesylt nibbled at her lip. "I have a technique?"

"My turn to ask a question."

She stepped behind him and leaned over his shoulder again, but this time, her arms dropped over his chest, her face resting against his. "Go on."

"For the record, and also because I care about you, I would like to know the extent of your experience in these matters before we go further."

Aesylt hesitated before answering. "Kissing. Might have been more had Nik and I... But everything we do from here will be new for me."

Rahn swallowed the dueling waves of illicit desire and guilt. "And this is still what you want? Still the way you want to experience these things for the first time, as an experiment?"

Aesylt withdrew slightly. "What better way to experience something so intimate than with someone you trust implicitly? I'm fortunate to have someone in my life who fits that description perfectly, though I have a feeling he's going to ask me this question every day, isn't he?"

He grinned at the desk, shaking his head. "You know me well."

"I would be stunned if you behaved any differently." She laughed. "And, uh, we have a few hours before anyone will expect us anywhere, so..."

"So, Squish."

"So, Scholar."

It felt so natural to crane his head back and kiss her. To reach up and cup her face to deepen the connection. She wilted, yielding, as she slid around to the front of him and climbed onto his lap.

Rahn spread his hands against her face, smoothing her hair back. He breathed out, taking her in. All for the notes. Dipping forward, he took her lower lip between his teeth for a gentle nip, and the sound that followed told him it was the right move.

"I'm ready to climb a bit higher, if you are," she whispered, tracing the words along his lower lip. She lifted in his lap, her arms draped about his neck, kissing him as perfectly as if she'd been kissing him all their lives.

But kissing was... simple. Once they ascended the next rung, there was no returning to the way things were. No pretending it was even possible.

Even amid the inescapable truth, Rahn answered her invitation by hoisting her onto the desk, sending the instructions scattering.

"Wait, wait," she croaked.

He faltered, frozen by the sinking fear he'd misread her signals.

Until she said, "And another with me," and he realized they were both already lost.

The way Rahn watched her from above, painting his shadow across her, invoked how she imagined it would have felt had she been caught by her wulf on the night of the Dyvareh.

But he had been her wulf all along, and she wasn't running anymore.

He came in for another hard kiss, then broke away to look at her. Aesylt curled her hands into his dark waves, bringing him closer with an aggressive tug. She opened her mouth wider to drive his tongue deeper, her toes curling as the hard bulge in his trousers ground against her.

She arced her head back when his mouth brushed the hollow of her neck, his lips dragging down across her flesh and over her collarbone. His breath awakened her, his warmth assuming a clear path of intent, skating along the soft curves of her breasts and burning through her dress as he dipped lower, inhaling her through the front stays of her gown.

One of her legs caught his forearm as she struggled for where to put it. He lifted his arm, and, with it, her thigh and rested it over his shoulder. She pulled the other one up to join it, and he shrugged them both into place, raising her before he lowered to a crouch.

Rahn's eyes locked onto hers from between her legs. His hands traveled her thighs, edging her dress higher, until it bunched at her waist. She'd never been so grateful to have worn something simple, for anything thicker would have meant she'd have missed seeing the predator lying in wait behind his gaze. The one she'd been waiting for.

She memorized it, for her notes, for... later.

Still watching her, he traced his lips along the soft flesh of her inner thighs, back and forth between one and the other, drawing closer and closer to her undergarment. Chills ripped through her, causing her to clamp onto his head. His response rumbled against her skin.

Rahn peeled back slightly and hooked his fingers beneath her undergarment. "You know I have to ask?—"

"Yes." Aesylt panted, her chest rising and falling hard. "Yes, dammit."

His expression darkened with lust. Strong hands brushed down her thighs as he pulled away the last thing holding them back, gliding the fabric down her legs, and released it, where it fell to the floor.

Rahn gave her thighs a tug, adjusting them over his shoulders, and lifted her to his face. She felt the heat of his hesitancy, brushing her just enough to send her climbing out of her skin. Aesylt had harbored fantasies of moments like it for years, afraid to speak of them, to tell anyone how, when the candles were extinguished each night, she found the only release that had ever felt close to freedom.

But she'd always managed her own needs, and this man, whom she respected and cared for, was one flick of his tongue away from fulfilling the crushing desire born of so many nights alone in the darkness.

With a gentle exhale, Rahn parted her with his thumbs and spread his tongue along the length of her in one long, delicate lap. The room exploded with color. Aesylt held her breath, afraid to tarnish the moment she'd waited so long for. He did it again, erupting the stars behind her eyes by starting over at the bottom and climbing toward the spot she knew by heart and wanted him to as well.

He lingered there, swirling his tongue in perfect, spine-chilling rhythm that surpassed even her wildest imaginings. She shuddered all over, an orgasm building far too fast, her body ignoring every command she was giving it to slow down, to ease off.

Rahn abruptly stopped. He looked up. "I don't know... I can't tell... Does it feel as you'd want it to?"

Aesylt was suddenly conscious of her vulnerable position on the table, her legs spread wide for a man she knew primarily as Scholar, a man her brother had trusted to keep her safe. She'd been soaked before he'd even touched her, a mortifying consequence of even being near the man. And somehow, she was failing, not performing in some critical way that would show him with her body what she'd already said with her words. "I... Yes, it's..." It was what? Why couldn't she answer?

He glanced behind them, as if to be sure. "No one can hear us. If you're holding back for me, don't. If I'm going to be the first man you share this experience with, I want it to be one you remember fondly, no matter what the reason." His lips sheened with remnants of her. "Close your eyes and give yourself to the way it feels. Memorize every rise and fall of your body in response."

She managed a breathy nod. "For the notes."

"And for yourself," Rahn said, his eyes lingering a moment longer before his head disappeared between her legs.

He wasted no time, finding his place again with ease. He took her swollen flesh between his teeth, and she whimpered in pleasure. His soft laugh against her core told her she'd done well, that there was no shame in adding voice to what her body was feeling... that he wanted to hear her. So when he did it again, Aesylt dug her hands to the wooden desk, lifted her hips against his face, and moaned into the cool air.

His hands massaged her outer thighs as he held them in place, his mouth focused solely on what sent all the light in the sky into sharp relief. We're studying the stars after all. Her nails slid between the lines in the wood, digging new grooves.

Her thighs trembled. She bared down, grating her heels down his back with short, stunted breaths as her body began the transition to the end. She was on fire, from the inside out and the outside in, and there was only one way to quench it.

It hit her like a moving wall. Aesylt threw her head back with a silent, wide-mouthed cry, no longer thinking about her shaking legs or anything except the way he'd latched on, riding out her climax with her.

Aesylt slid back down against the table. Her legs sagged down his arms, but he gently lifted them and settled them on the desk. She glanced up just as he licked his lips, the briefest, sexiest indulgence before he wiped his face on his sleeve.

Rahn helped her to her feet. He had to steady her another moment when her knees buckled, but she smiled weakly to show him she was fine. "Was it..."

She lifted onto her toes to kiss him, the only way she knew to answer his question. His exhale passed into her as she skated her tongue along his, tasting herself. It was sweeter than she'd imagined, and she wondered how it would compare to his seed, a thought that had her ready to push him up onto the desk and mount him like a stallion. Ladder be damned.

Rahn broke the kiss with a reluctant grin, tucking stray hair behind her ears with both hands before turning and taking a deep breath. "Good."

Rahn closed his eyes. He flexed his hands. He rolled his shoulders. He silently recited the words to one of the tedious old litanies of the Rhiagains, word by word.

Nothing restored his focus.

He stared out the circular window revealing rain so thick, he couldn't see the mountains. It was loud enough to overcome any sounds from behind him. Aesylt was at her desk making her own notes, he could only assume, but he couldn't turn to verify. He might never be able to look her in the eyes again. Definitely not when he was nursing an erection so swollen, it filled his thoughts with alarming images of perfectly ripe tomatoes bursting.

He licked his lips but that, too, was a mistake.

First evidence of physical response was raised flesh on the female's upper thighs. Male notes this elicited a physical response of his own.Rahn tapped the feather of the quill against his head. Adjusted his spectacles higher on his nose.

Gather yourself, Adrahn.

His eyes shifted back toward the rainstorm. He could just make out the hazy outlines of the conifers and, maybe, if he watched long enough, the distant traces of the Northerland Range. What he'd never see in those conditions was the sky. But?—

Rahn's chair slid. It screeched across stone, the culprit a red-cheeked Aesylt who stole his gaze and held it as she crawled under the desk.

"Aesylt, what are you doing?" He held his hands up and out, unsure what to do with them.

Grinning, she tugged on one leg of his chair, straining as she tried to pull him into place. He didn't know what else to do, so he helped her.

Rahn stared at her, resting on her heels between his parted legs, with a devious look. His head shook—and kept shaking, as he realized her intention.

"I finished my notes." She twisted her hair from the front and let it fall down her back. "I've never done this before either, but with a little guidance from you, I believe I can manage."

"I haven't..." Rahn swallowed. He shifted in the chair, but there was no hiding the bulge. She was staring right at it. "Finished mine."

She waved a hand. "Go on then."

Rahn stared at her, bewildered. It had been in the back of his mind that they couldn't climb the next rung without finishing the one they were on, but he wasn't in a hurry either. The longer he delayed the inevitable, the longer he could convince himself he hadn't gone too far.

Aesylt drew a deep breath, held it, stretched a tentative hand out, and rested it on his buckle. She started to unhook it but struggled, and Rahn found himself leaning down and gently taking her other hand, joining it to the one on his belt. She gazed up at him, wide-eyed and eager, and he had to look away.

She wrenched his belt free and slowly unbuttoned his trousers, yanking until he lifted off the chair to let her slide them the rest of the way off. She went for his shorts next, and then those were off, and his cock sprung free, turning her eyes to saucers again. The slide of his tongue over her came crashing forward in his mind. How wet she'd been, how perfectly ready for the next rung. A bead of precum rolled down his shaft.

"And another with me," she whispered as she exhaled.

Rahn clamped his hands to the chair arms when Aesylt took him in her hand. Both hands, wrapping around him to form a knot. She breathed out, tendrils of it passing over his sensitive head. It occurred to him he should stop her, but the time for that had been before he'd helped his favorite researcher come all over his face.

Aesylt's tongue flitted against his head, sending Rahn jerking upward, one of his knees banging the wood. He gripped the chair tighter, burrowing his feet to the tips of his boots when her mouth spread wider, her tongue traveling down from his head and her lips dragging his shaft. Breath shuddering, he chanced a look down to see her mouth was spread so wide, it was nearly cracking at the corners.

She withdrew with a light pop. "You don't have to stop writing."

"There's not a chance I could continue." Rahn panted, his hands squeezed against the wooden arms so tight, they were shaking.

"Am I satisfactory, Scholar?" She swirled her thumb over the head of his cock, fisting it with the other hand.

"Ah..." Rahn's belly caved. His eyes rolled back as he nodded profusely. His thighs were clenched into rocks as he strained for control.

Aesylt slid him back into her mouth until his cock hit resistance. Her lips were still an inch or more from the base, and the thought of driving himself down her throat to finish made him gulp.

She was a natural, in a way practice could never improve upon. It was not the first time a woman had taken him into her mouth, but as he looked down at her, working him like a prodigy, he realized nothing that had come before mattered at all.

"Aesylt, I..." Rahn's knuckles turned to peaks as he bore down. "You need to stop before I..."

"I know..." Aesylt spoke between slurps. She tried to grin, but her mouth couldn't do more than twitch. "For the notes."

Rahn released the chair and locked his hands into her hair, knotting it behind her head as his body lifted, his seed coursing into her mouth, every muscle in his body clenching and releasing with her enthusiastic suction.

She waited until he'd ceased moving before pulling away. Her mouth was closed, but he saw her throat moving. Her eyes glistened from how deep she'd taken him.

"How was my technique in this area?" she asked. Gone was the flirtation, and she was his favorite researcher again. It gave him no pleasure to realize it was that look he'd see in his fantasies. Brimming with curiosity and keen for his guidance.

"You... You were..." Rahn exhaled slowly, returning to himself. A delicious shiver tore through him. "Perfect."

Aesylt beamed. She wiped her mouth and dropped back into a crawl, shuffling out from under the desk, and shot to her feet. Rahn held his breath. He heard the scrape of her chair and then, "Now let's finish those notes."