21. The Sordid Netherworld of Sex Clubs

Thank the Ancestors for Imryll, Aesylt thought as she and her sister-in-law stood, stone-faced, watching the Derehams and roughly forty of their carefully chosen subjects spin and twirl around the elaborately festooned parlor. Nyssa might be upset that her event had been downsized because of security concerns, but she was still the belle of the ball, fielding so many requests for dances, she had to turn half of them down.

"I'm rather jealous of Aleksy, sitting in the quiet nursery with his toys," Aesylt muttered, sipping her mulled wine, one arm crossed over the thick fabric of her dress. She'd had a few offers herself, despite being garbed like a sack of tubers, but she wasn't in the spirits for dancing.

"You're telling me." Imryll was drinking goat's milk, something Felice had suggested would help with fetal growth. Aesylt understood the benefits of a nutrient-rich milk for newborns, but she had a feeling Felice's suggestion was less rooted in science and more in old fishwife tales. "Nyssa is truly glowing tonight. It's admirable how she gives each suitor her full attention. She would have made a far better princess than I was."

Aesylt eyed the yards of gold garland strewn about the rafters, wound around pillars, and even lining the dark stone walls. Her dress was a close enough match that she'd been fantasizing about slinking against the wall and using it as camouflage until the night was over. "Surely Lord Dereham has already narrowed it down to one or two potentials."

"He's already decided on one, and a contract is in the works." Imryll shook her head. Her red curls bounced with her humor. "He can't be seen as weak by not throwing a fete for his own daughter, so this is the compromise."

"Nyssa isn't happy with me about this compromise."

"Nyssa is fortunate to have never known the fear and trauma you have. Pray she never does."

"Imryll, I know why..." Aesylt hesitated to speak of Imryll's birth father, the sorcerer Mortain who had been the architect of the Nok Mora. There was still so much Aesylt didn't know, and she had always been too nervous to ask. "I know Mortain is why Witchwood Cross was the example King Carrow made. I know he put my brother on the path of vengeance that led him to you. That sometimes fate is an individual, not a force of nature. I know all these things, but..." She paused to be sure her words hadn't gone too far.

"You're going to ask me if I think the Derehams colluded with the king to save themselves at our expense?" Imryll eyed her from the side. "No, I don't think so. Mortain sees long and far, and he had no qualms making an entire village suffer endlessly to get what he wanted. Lord Dereham only bent his knee for Carrow after he saw what the king was capable of, to spare not only Wulfsgate but the rest of the Northerlands from the same fate. I can't imagine how much it burned his heart to do so. There is no love for the crown in these lands."

"Maybe things will be better now that Carrow is gone and his grandson is being raised and counseled by a woman."

"You've not met Adamina." They both laughed. "She was devastated when King Torian was murdered, but her blind obedience died with him. She'll do her best by young King Farian, and we can only hope it's enough."

"Are you not afraid Mortain will come back?"

"He already has what he wants, Aesylt. His line continues, through me, through Aleksy. Whatever his true plan, it won't be realized in our lifetime. Time for an immortal means nothing." Imryll finished her milk with a sour look. "Ah, Rahn is here. He's speaking with Lord Dereham. I assumed you two would come together."

Aesylt followed where Imryll was looking. Rahn was watching back, and their gazes connected briefly before he returned to his conversation. "He's been acting strangely since yesterday. He denies it, but something is off."

"The two of you have really bonded here." Imryll's even delivery made it impossible to read her meaning.

"Our interests are highly compatible," Aesylt said carefully, stepping back when a handful of drunken men stumbled past, howling in laughter. "But the more time I spend with him, the more aware I am of how little I know of who he really is."

"How so?"

"He has never spoken of what happened to him as a boy on Duncarrow, not to me anyway."

"Not to anyone, as far as I know." Imryll smiled and curtsied at Felice as she strode past in her sweeping violet gown, followed by her attendants.

Aesylt absentmindedly did the same, more interested in Imryll's response.

"He lost everyone he knew and loved when he was only eight years old, and was forced to grow up very fast... like you did."

"But how can you really know someone if they keep such a big part of themselves hidden?"

Imryll turned to look directly at her. "Have you told him everything that happened to you the night of the Nok Mora?"

Aesylt felt the blood drain from her face. "Well..."

"Have you told anyone?"

Nik, Val, and the Castels each had pieces of that night, but no one had the complete picture. "What's done is done. Vjestik trust in our Ancestors to guide us. Only the kyschun see the need to look into the past."

"Then consider he may feel the same about what happened to him." Imryll squeezed Aesylt's arm. "I know you're cross about the gown, but you're beautiful no matter what you wear. You might ponder accepting at least one of the offers you've been rejecting. If you have to suffer through this, you may as well find some enjoyment."

"Don't feel much like dancing," Aesylt said, right as Rahn was pulled onto the dance floor by a giddy Nyssa. She watched them, glowering silently, until she felt Imryll's eyes on her. "What? You're not dancing either."

"The last man I danced with who was not my husband regretted asking." Imryll grinned, her eyes toward the side in remembrance. "I know your heart is heavy, and tonight feels like an unnecessary distraction from what matters. But when things are darkest is when we need the light the most. We need our strength to face our trials. And, ah, don't look now, but I believe Pieter is coming to ask you for a dance."

Aesylt dug deep for a whisper of patience and braced. She mustered a mannerly smile right as he walked up. "Pieter."

He gave an exaggerated low bow. "Stewardess. Lady Wynter."

Aesylt wrinkled her nose. She delicately searched for Rahn and Nyssa and straightaway regretted it when he didn't exactly look miserable. "Enjoying yourself tonight?"

"No more than you two." He swept his gaze over both women with a sly grin. "You haven't been with your scholar all evening."

"And?"

"Aesylt and I have been enjoying some sister time." Imryll looped her arm through Aesylt's with an affectionate tug. "We've hardly seen each other." She pecked a kiss on her cheek. "But I'm missing my son and think I'll retire early, if it isn't too impolite."

Aesylt squinted at her in alarm.

"Not at all," Pieter said. He reached for Imryll's hand and brought it to his mouth. "If no one else has told you this tonight, Stewardess, you are a vision. Your husband is a fortunate man."

"We both thank the fates for each other every night," Imryll said. She squeezed Aesylt's arm once more, ignoring her silent plea to stay. "Good night then."

When she was gone, Pieter turned toward Aesylt. "I believe you owe me a dance."

"I'd remember if I owed you anything. I never neglect a debt." Aesylt cocked her head. She forced her eyes to blur against the distance when her gaze landed on Rahn and Nyssa again, who were enjoying a second dance. She's trying to turn heads. There's nothing more to it.

"It's an expression, Aesylt." He held out his hand. "But if you prefer me to ask formally, then may I please have the pleasure of a dance with you?"

She didn't have the energy for a refusal, and as soon as she put herself in motion, hand in hand with the forsaken heir, the heaviness she'd been wearing all evening surprisingly lifted. Rahn's eyes twitched slightly when she passed with Pieter, and that, too, felt good, even though it was childish.

If nothing else, it would take her mind off her newest fear, fresh off a bout of sickness and a moon cycle that hadn't arrived. That the most logical explanation was impossible, given their careful use of the celestial realm, wasn't the comfort it should have been.

The music was a beautiful but mournful melody Aesylt recognized as an ode to the time before the Rhiagains, when the Derehams had still been kings. Of all the realm, only the north had ever had kings and queens.

She settled into formation with Pieter, who placed one hand against the middle of her back, the other still fixed to hers.

"I know what my sister was doing, having you wear this dress. But she underestimated just how well it would suit you. Others are noticing as well."

Aesylt rolled her eyes. "I have no need of their kind of notice."

"What kind are you interested in then?" Pieter asked as he guided them through the steps.

She was already exasperated. "One who judges on appearance is a fool. And it's hard to be happy about dancing and laughing and drinking when my village is struggling and my research is always one bad submission away from being pulled altogether."

"That..." Pieter leaned down so his mouth was beside her ear. "Is why I wanted to dance with you tonight. I have a confession to make."

Aesylt reared back. "I don't have the belly for another one of your games."

"It's been weighing on me, this dishonesty. The day in the garden... It wasn't..." His eyes briefly widened as he shifted his head back and forth. "My first exposure to what's been going on in the tower."

Aesylt's rebuttal disappeared with her shock. "You said you'd suspected."

"Hypotheses are founded in educated guesses, but I didn't need to guess." Pieter eased her back into a dancing position when others turned their attention their way. "I knew because your letter wasn't the only thing I read that day in the tower. Your scholar's notes weren't locked up, as they should have been."

The room gathered a hazy quality, a soft blur of light and sound that seemed to belong to another time.

"Aesylt, did you hear me?"

"I heard you." Her mind and heart raced faster than the music. He'd read Rahn's notes. He didn't just know they had been intimate; he knew why, which was far more dangerous. "What do you want, Pieter? Money?"

"Money?" He sounded genuinely affronted. "If I wanted money, I wouldn't have run from the most lucrative post in the Northerlands, would I?"

"What then?" She lowered her voice. "Sex?"

"You think I have trouble getting what I need?"

"You're so mysterious, how would I know?"

"Aesylt," he whispered. "I want to help you."

Sweat beaded under her hairline. "Oh, this again."

"Have I not helped you thus far? Despite that you've been lying to all of us about the fun with astronomy the two of you've been having?" He guided them farther from the other dancers. "I know the Reliquary leadership is testing you, to see how far you'll go. And you've risen to the challenge, haven't you? Valiantly." He snickered. "But you also know, at any moment, they could pull you from this project. This project Imryll envisioned, created, and championed."

She could hardly feel the hand he was holding anymore, and the other was tingling so violently, she had to drop it from his waist. Pieter had known, for weeks, and had been hoarding the information for the right time. "What do you want? You haven't stored this revelation for nothing."

"It's not what I want, Aesylt. It's what I can do for you. You've done everything the Reliquary has asked, but you need to do more if you want to hold onto this. And I know just the thing."

As they spun around, she saw Nyssa, but Rahn wasn't with her anymore. She searched for him, but she could hardly keep herself anchored to the conversation. She blinked when her vision doubled. The bonfires of the Nok Mora flickered behind her eyes.

"I know a thing or two about the men running the Reliquary myself," Pieter said, "and men like them will keep pushing and testing until you break. You have to be ahead of them if you want to win."

Aesylt heard him and even understood him, but she couldn't fight the sense she was drifting away from him, from the oppressive soiree... from the very keep itself. She responded to ground herself. "And what grand gesture did you have in mind?" The heat left her in a rush, substituted by chills that left her skin peppered in gooseflesh.

"There's a club in the village that meets when the moon is at its fullest. Most of us call it Revelry, but it has many other names as well, none of which matter." Pieter leaned in close once more. "It's very exclusive, invitation only, and I could secure two, for you and your scholar, with no trouble at all."

She desperately needed to wipe the sweat rolling down her temples. "Are you going to say what it is, or am I expected to guess?"

"Hedonists." He paused for her reaction, but she was too taken aback to offer one. "You can experiment all you want, collect all the experiences you can manage, and every last bit of it will win you the goodwill you deserve with the Reliquary."

Everything he was describing was vague enough that he could have been talking about a social club for people with similar interests, but that was obviously not what he was whispering about. She breathed deep. "Speak plainly, Pieter."

"It's an orgy, Aesylt."

Aesylt stopped dancing. She untangled herself from him in disbelief, dropping her voice into a hissing whisper. "You want to take me to an orgy?"

"Two nights from now, yes."

She squeezed her eyes closed to control the competing emotions and sensations. The sweat, the stench, the din of laughter, and the pitch of the music. Pieter's presence, close, constant, and waiting. An orgy. Multiple partners was on the battlefield level, but she and Rahn had dismissed it out of hand because there was no one they could trust enough to bring in. And the thought of her scholar touching another woman was unreasonably painful. But it was, of everything on the list, the most forbidden. The least expected. And Pieter was not wrong; the Reliquary would be astounded the cohort was willing to go so far.

How many ways did she imagine telling him to fuck off in those precious seconds? And why did none of them make it to her lips? "You attend these Revelries yourself?"

"I attended the last one here in Wulfsgate, and I've been to others across the realm. They're not unique, but they are uniquely private. Only an existing member can invite new initiates, though don't let that word upset you too much. This would be one night... one night of experimentation in a safe setting, where you could do anything you desire, with as many men or women as you desire to be with."

"The scholar would... He'd never agree." She closed her eyes when the room started spinning from the opposing forces of past and present. Where had Rahn gone? Nyssa was giggling in a huddle of young women her age.

"Then come alone. Or with me." He chuckled. "Now, I'm not suggesting the two of us engage in anything illicit together. We're practically family. But I'm happy to be your safe and experienced guide into the sordid netherworld of sex clubs." He tilted his head and regarded her with an unsettlingly gentle look. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you, Aes. And I would not make this offer at all if I believed it was dangerous for you. There are few true rules of Revelry and they are this: respect the levels, respect the individual, and consent is given freely or not at all. You don't want to know what happens to those who overstep, but they are enough to prevent anyone from daring to. This particular club hasn't had an incident in over three years. Before that, seven."

Aesylt glanced behind her, causing the floor to rise. "I'm tired of dancing" was all she got out before she stumbled across the stones, aiming for the refreshment table. She planted her hands on its smooth cloth, breathing through her nose, and moved sideways until she was at the end, where she could hide behind a pillar to gather her bearings.

She poured herself a mug of mead. Her hands shook as she cupped it in both hands and lifted it to her mouth. Some of it spilled out the side and trailed down her chin, but the more she drank, the better she felt. The competing voices, sounds, and scents blended into the background, her only awareness her pounding heart, which was finally beginning to slow.

An orgy. Pieter had probably been building to this offer all along, and she'd walked right into it. But as much as it burned her to realize that she'd been such an easy mark, his offer had awakened something in her—a certain competitiveness, a call to rise to any challenge and emerge victorious. It was the same perseverance that had made her so determined to embark on the curricula with Rahn to begin with, and she'd proven to herself she could handle it. Perhaps sometimes her heart got in the way, but it was nothing she couldn't manage. She had her notes to work such complications out.

She brought the mug back to her mouth and finished the drink. The world normalized again. Voices filtered in. The music returned. She closed her eyes and told herself, One more minute and then you must go back out there. You must be a gracious guest.

Shrill giggles appeared from the other side of the pillar. "Nyssa, you are a devil, making her wear that dress!"

Aesylt froze. She didn't recognize the voice, but the young woman was clearly talking about her.

"I heard some men saying they weren't aware Lord Dereham was bringing the kitchen maids to the ball." Another unfamiliar voice.

"I think she looks lovely in it," Nyssa quipped.

The other girls burst into laughter. "You do not! What a rascal you are, Nyssa."

"You're doing her a kindness, even inviting her. I wouldn't let that feral wulf near my family."

"She's not feral," Nyssa retorted.

"She's a murderer, Nyssa. She slaughtered the king's men."

"Cooked and ate them too, so I hear."

Nyssa groaned. "Only fools repeat foolish rumors."

"Then lost her damn mind. I heard her brother sent her here because he was afraid of what she might do. That she might... you know."

Aesylt clapped both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Every inch of progress she'd made in calming herself was immediately undone. She was ripped back to the Nok Mora, the heft of the spear leaving her hand in a hurl of rage. The cries she sounded to the heavens after she took down two men with the bow. There were more, Fezzan had said, so many more, but it was a mercy to not remember them. The kyschun had offered to help her restore what had been lost, but she could think of nothing worse than being forced to relive every detail of that night, over and over and over.

"What, Katlyn? That she might what?" Nyssa demanded, exasperated. "I advise you to tread carefully with what you say next. Aesylt is a guest of my family, and her brother is one of my father's greatest allies."

"Guardians, Nyssa, we meant no offense."

"And I'll mean no offense when I cut off your tongue for wagging it too hard, Asa." Nyssa made a shuddery harrumph. "Where did my beautiful scholar run off to anyway?"

Aesylt, head between her legs, panted and braced until she heard their giggles trail away.

With her eyes stinging, she climbed to her feet and slinked toward the east exit, praying no one stopped her before she'd made it somewhere safe to collapse.

Rahn had been subtly watchingAesylt all night. He'd seen her shying away from the festivities with Imryll on the far side of the room, as well as when Pieter led her onto the ballroom floor. And he'd certainly noticed when she'd rushed away in distress.

He strode down hall after hall before he finally spotted her, right as she turned to exit through the staff door. The tight cross of her arms and downturned head suggested a desire for solitude, but everything he'd come to know about Aesylt Wynter over the past year told him that being alone was a sentence she'd imposed on herself.

He understood a sentence like that. He'd been serving his own for over twenty years.

A gust of wind and snow assaulted him the moment his boots hit the flagstones. He hadn't left with a cloak, but neither had she, and that was more concerning. Hypothermia was common even among the hardened locals. Death wasn't unusual either, because people were prone to underestimating the thing they respected most.

Ahead, Aesylt's dark dress flashed through the white squall, winking in and out. Wet flakes caught in his lashes, and he lost her again.

But he'd seen the direction she was headed, and it wasn't to the tower.

With one arm raised to shield his eyes from the gale, he shifted into a careful jog. The flagstones, cleared earlier to prepare for the event, were freshly slick, but his singular concern was finding her before her distress put her in real danger.

The courtyard narrowed to a choice of paths. He weighed his options but then noticed small footprints on the leftmost one and started down it. It wasn't long before he had his bearings again and realized where he was.

Artisan Row.

Although the city of Wulfsgate had some of the best artisans in the realm, the Derehams had their own blacksmith, silversmith, coppersmith, arrowsmith, bladesmith, and more, handpicked for the honor of serving their lord and his family exclusively. Rahn sometimes watched them from the tower when his thoughts wandered, stuck on the right word or description for his notes. He often wished he'd learned a useful trade himself, seeing how satisfied the men seemed after a long day of crafting.

The row of stone buildings was peaceful. Storm shutters were closed and locked on every one, blocking any interior view from the path. Crates of rubbish were stacked outside, awaiting porter pickup at dawn.

Her footsteps led into the clothier's building, where the seamstresses did most of their work. The door was only partially closed, snow dusting over the threshold.

Rahn gently nudged the door open with his palm. "Aesylt?"

No response came, but a grunt and then a series of cataclysmic crashes from the back room revealed her location soon enough. He rushed in and found her sprawled among a series of fallen clothing racks, thrashing, shrieking, and?—

Disappearing.

She was there and then she wasn't. When she re-emerged moments later, she was screaming and soaking wet.

"Squish!" Rahn scrambled to where she was tangled in garments. Her face was splotched with varying shades of red, her eyes a tortured match. Water streamed from her hair and down her cheeks, like she'd been in a massive rainstorm. She gaped up at him, panting, and disappeared again.

When she returned, Rahn tried to grab her, but all he caught was air.

He waited almost ten excruciating minutes for her to return. When at last she came back, drenched and shaking, he threw himself on top of her.

The shock of it was enough to pause her. Her eyes were wide and brimming with fright, like a cornered animal. It was hard to tell with how drenched she was, but she seemed to be crying.

"Breathe," he pleaded, spreading one hand to her face to clear the hair matted everywhere. Her panting turned to hyperventilation. She twitched beneath him. "Aesylt, breathe."

"I can't." She moaned, and he saw it in her eyes; she meant to shift, so he grabbed hold of her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

"You can. And if you insist on disappearing again, I'm coming with you."

"You don't want to go there, Scholar." Her chin trembled. She tore it out of his grip and turned her head to the side. "I think I've flooded it."

"You created a storm?"

Aesylt nodded almost imperceptibly. Her breathing slowed, shallowing. "Of course I would destroy that too. I'm an abomination. I... I'm..."

"Slow down. Breathe."

"Why? Why? Why would I, when I killed those men and felt nothing?" She whimpered. Her eyes darted in all directions. "I should have died that day with my people. I shouldn't even be here, pretending, acting like..."

Rahn had no choice but to ignore the crushing weight her words had fixed around his heart. "Show me."

She shook her head in confusion, squeezing her eyes tight.

"The storm. Show me, Aesylt. I'm not asking."

The command in his voice was enough to shift her gaze back to his. Her lower lip rolled inward, then out again. "And... And another with me."

Rahn was immediately assaulted with a downpour of rain and hail. He whipped his attention up in alarm and saw the roof had been torn away. Wind thrashed trees, bowing them, making the sky whistle. The sky lit up in a pattern of bright zigs and zags, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the earth. He ducked when a tree came crashing through the window.

Aesylt lay on the strewn gowns, convulsing. Tears streamed down her cheeks as rain peppered her body. She no longer seemed in control of what was happening.

Rahn at last understood why starwalking was a danger to her.

He crawled back to her and straddled her to steady her shakes. He grabbed hold of her face. "Aesylt. Aesylt!" He grunted in desperate frustration when she was unresponsive. "Listen to me. I know you're there, and I know you can hear me. I'm not letting go, and I'm not leaving. Aesylt." Agony clogged his throat. His thoughts were split between her crisis and the one that had shaped his own life. The crash of the stormy waves upon the Duncarrow rocks echoed in his head as the faces of Carrow's sons, evil and pleading, peered up at him from the inky sea. "I know your pain, Squish. Please don't go where I can't follow."

Lightning split the sky. Crashing thunder shattered a window. He covered her when he felt glass blow against the back of him. "You are not an abomination. Look at me. Look at me!"

"I'm a coward! I don't want to remember any of it!" She screamed the words, arching up off the pile of gowns like she were possessed by a foreign entity. "None of it! I don't want to. I don't want to face what I am... that I'm... that I'm... just like them."

Rahn replayed her words, I killed those men and felt nothing. She was speaking of the Nok Mora, of something she'd done in self-defense. He'd heard Nik and Val whispering about it one day. She still believes that day ended when she stumbled from the keep and found us in the road, Nik had said. And if we love her, we'll let it be had been Val's response. "You're a leader of people, people who were horribly and terribly wronged. Whatever you did, you did because you had to. There can be no remorse in acts of self-defense."

"Self-defense? No, not even one of them—" Her shaking stopped. Both of her eyes narrowed as she turned them on him. "I..." Rain splattered her face, running down the sides. "I hunted them down like dogs. I wanted them dead, Rahn. I wanted to see the light in their eyes wink out when they realized... when they knew. They'd already surrendered. They were..." Her head tilted back as she gulped a breath. "We had them lined up." She scrunched her face in a wince and screamed a sob. Her head whipped back and forth. "I don't know how many. Five. Ten. More. Fez told me, but I... I should know the number, the exact number, but that's how little their lives meant to me. They were on their knees, begging for mercy, crying... talking about their families back home, and... one by one I... took my father's sword and I?—"

Another clap of thunder collapsed the back wall. Rahn stared at it, reeling from her words. He bowed his head to find his control again. For her. "We need to go back."

"You wanted to come here." Aesylt pushed up on her hands, stretching up. "Now you know. Now you know the monster I am, the monster you've been sharing a bed with and?—"

He gripped her face in one hand and crushed his mouth to hers, then whispered, "I'm not leaving you, Squish, but it's not safe here. Please?"

With fresh tears pooling in her eyes, she nodded.

The rain, thunder, lightning and mayhem disappeared. The safety of the clothier's workshop allowed him to exhale, but Aesylt was no less distraught. Soaked to the bone, she released a heartrending wail. Her fingers moved to her throat, clawing.

Rahn grabbed her hands in his, pinned them above her head, and kissed her again, locking them together until she stopped shaking. She cried against his mouth, gradually relenting until all that was left was wearied grief raining from her eyes. "You are not a monster, Aesylt."

Aesylt's head shook. "I am." She squirmed underneath him. "Only a monster could take life without remorse and then be a coward enough to forget it."

"You were brave enough to continue living when most of your world stopped," Rahn pressed.

"Please, I just want?—"

"To wallow in pain, and I won't allow it." His grip on her hands tightened. "You're going to talk to me. Nothing you say will drive me away."

"Liar."

"I haven't lied to you yet."

"I've lied to you." Her throat moved in a rough swallow. The flesh was red and angry from the way she'd torn at it. "I can't be trusted."

"Trust is a thing given, and I give you my trust." Rahn noted the defiance in her eyes, the unspoken dare to agree with her and walk away. "What happened tonight?"

Her reddened eyes rolled to the side as she groaned. "These girls... It doesn't matter. Nyssa's friends, they were only saying what I already knew to be true, deep down. I just couldn't face it. I don't know why it's all coming back now. That day in the woods..." Fat tears slid down her cheeks and onto the gowns. "I've cried three times since the Nok Mora. Once when my brother finally came home. The second time, in that tree, wondering if I was going to die. And tonight."

Rahn was beginning to see the degree of deception Aesylt had created within herself in order to survive. She'd convinced herself she was worse than the men who had murdered, raped, and defiled the people of the Cross, and then she'd buried her shame, somewhere it had quietly bred and flourished until she could no longer run from it. "There's nothing wrong with crying. Science tells us it actually has a cathartic, therapeutic benefit."

She wriggled under his grasp with a scornful scoff. "Even now, you're thinking of the research."

He leaned in, pinning her with more of his body. "I'm not thinking of anything except you right now."

She sniffled and drew a jerky breath. "Why are you even here?"

"I was worried. Am worried."

"So you followed me, watched me tear the celestial world apart, and now..."

She wanted him to finish the thought, but he couldn't. Even trying was paralyzing. "I just..." See your pain, because it's mine too. Except I can't reach mine, and like you, that was intentional. "I don't know, Aesylt."

One of her hands slid up his arm until it reached his face. "Then maybe you should leave."

"Is that really what you want?"

"What I want..." She laughed bitterly. "You're the smartest man I have ever known, Adrahn, but you are utterly unable to communicate about whatever is going on inside of you."

He couldn't deny it, but all his life he'd been surrounded by emotionally stunted highborns, half of whom were oblivious to anything beyond themselves, the other half actively embroiled in the subjugation of a kingdom they had no right to. "What can I do to ease your mind?"

"Nothing." Her hand fell away. Her sad smile lifted her reddened cheeks.

Rahn made a split-second decision, one of the few he'd made in a long while that had not begun with careful deliberations. He slid his hands until one pinned both of her wrists, and the other traveled south, down her arms, her side. She shivered, confused, but he continued on until he came to the soft, warm flesh of her thigh, exposed from where the ungainly dress had lifted. "I've known monsters. I may even be one myself. But I have never seen a heart as true as yours." He dipped down and kissed her as his hand moved higher. She gasped with a slight tilt of encouragement. "Research or no—science or no—I would never share the intimacy I've shared with you if I believed that about you. If I have to prove it to you, I'll do so. Fervently."

Aesylt's mouth parted in bewilderment. "We're not in the celestial realm."

"I don't care." Rahn cupped his hand between her legs. "Do you?"

"I never did." Her eyes rolled back as his hand slid beneath her undergarment.

Rahn traced the length of his finger down her until she was flushed and panting. He paused, holding back an inappropriate chuckle at her wide-eyed offense. "Here's what's going to happen, Aesylt. If you want me to continue, you're going to do exactly as I say."

"What? What are you?—"

He pinched between her legs until she whimpered. "Repeat. After. Me. ‘I am not a monster.'"

"Rahn, I'm not?—"

"Say it."

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why?"

"Say it." His finger twitched.

"I am not... I'm not a..." Her face crumpled in pain, melting in pleasure. "A monster."

"Good girl." It was mere seconds before she was writhing beneath him as her release took hold. She slowly relaxed, her cheeks darkened with yet another shade of red.

Rahn removed his hand and unbuckled himself from his trousers. She watched him, clearly doubtful he would have the courage to take her right there, in their world, but he was beyond the confines of cowardice, or even bravery. She needed him, and he needed her, and there was nothing else to be said or done about it.

Entirely bound to the moment, he hooked one of her legs under his arm and lined himself up against her. She dragged her teeth against her lip and lifted, the final bit of encouragement he needed to take himself over the precipice between thought and action.

With a protracted groan, Rahn felt the last of his inhibitions disintegrate, replaced by a tight warmth that was even more delicious and perfect in their world. He pulled out and thrust into her, pushing a stilted exhale out of her that had him doing it over and over again just to hear the sound. His grip on her wrists tightened as he moved within her, but he forced himself to stop because there was more she needed to hear and to say.

"Repeat after me," he said again. "‘I am imperfect, but I am brave. I did what needed to be done to protect what was left of my village. And I would do it again.'"

Her hands shifted under his hold, a fresh look of discomfort washing over her expression. "I know what you're trying to do."

"If you want me to fuck you, Aesylt, then you're going to say it."

Her eyes flashed wide. "I need to know this isn't pity."

Rahn offered a soft, humorless chuckle. "It's not pity, Squish. Say the words, and I'll do whatever you want me to do to you, and I'll relish every damn minute of it."

"I'm imperfect but brave. I did what I needed to do, to protect my people. And I would..." Her chest rose in a hard breath. "Do it again."

Rahn released her hands and lifted her hips off the dresses. He dipped his thumbs between her legs. "You've earned it. Whatever you want."

"This," she whispered. "I've only ever wanted this."

He'd been expecting her to make some bold suggestion, when all she really needed was intimacy. And Rahn realized, as he moved with her—as they broke the most important rule they'd ever made—that he'd been craving that very thing his entire life.

"Aesylt."

She watched him through languid blinks. "Yes?"

He kissed her and spread his hands along her face, sighing. "I wish you could see yourself as I do."

She came again, squeezing him, and the effect was dizzying. He pulled out, but she locked her legs behind him and shook her head.

Rahn threw his head back with a cry. He bowed over her, riding it out and slowing as he finished.

Breathless, he pulled out and settled beside her on the thick pile of dresses. The reality hit him immediately, what they'd done, but instead of regret, he felt relief. Peace.

"Am I breaking some rule when I say I prefer it this way?" she asked.

He glanced over and saw her dress still hiked up, her legs spread, and his cum spilling onto the gown she lay on. The need to take her again was all-consuming. To be inside of her, moving together as one... their pasts forgotten, their futures secure. "We've broken every other rule," he said, his voice cracked. "Why not this one?"

"Do you regret it?"

I should. "No."

"Does this change anything between us?"

I don't know. "Of course not." He rolled onto his side, facing her. "Do you feel better?"

She gave a drowsy nod. "I could sleep for days."

And I could hold you for days. "I need you to believe the words. You did what you had to, and your people are better for it. They know what you did for them."

"I don't know if I can ever believe them, but..." She exhaled slowly. "You're the first person I've ever told anything about that night. I expected it to feel so much worse, but I feel lighter."

"You do?"

"A little." She turned to face him. "And you? After what we did, how do you feel?"

Rahn swallowed and looked up at the dark ceiling. "I should feel remorse. I should wonder whether I've lost my mind."

"But you don't?"

"No." He rolled his head toward her again. "I don't. Not even slightly."

"And if I kissed you right now... if I crawled over you and said I wanted more?" Aesylt blinked away the last of her tears.

He twined a hand through one of hers. "Ask me, and I'll give you anything you want."

"Do you want to know what Pieter said to me tonight?"

"Pieter?" Rahn startled at the sudden shift in topic. "When you were dancing?"

"Mhm."

"All right," he said, growing nervous.

Aesylt told him.

He was genuinely speechless.

"He claims to want to help. I don't know if I trust that, but... I don't believe he's wrong either. About the Reliquary. What if there was something we could do to elevate our research, to remove all doubt that we can handle even the most provocative subjects with the utmost professionalism?"

Rahn could hardly make sense of it. Pieter's offer. Aesylt actually considering it. "An orgy?"

She rubbed her eyes with a shuddery yawn. "Ancestors, I can hardly speak anymore; I'm so tired. What an exhausting evening."

"Aesylt, you're seriously... You want to do this?"

"Want?" She scoffed. "I need to be a researcher, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to achieve it. Want has nothing to do with it."

"This is beyond the pale." Rahn shook his head, too astounded to form the words he needed to. "This is madness. Even if... No, no."

"Why not?" she asked through languid blinks. "Why would this be out of bounds when nothing else has been?"

"Because... because it involves other people," he sputtered. Why were words so hard? Why could he not find voice for all his objections? "Because..."

"You don't have to come." She rolled onto her back and smoothed her dress. "One of us should be enough."

"No."

"No, what?"

Rahn bolted upright. "Aesylt, this is serious. With you and me there's trust and understanding. We bring outsiders into this, and there's no telling how it will change the variables, how it will affect the outcomes."

She stood, wobbling for balance atop the mountain of fallen dresses. "I need to clean this up. The clothiers begin their day at dawn."

The world seemed to whirl out of control, and he was left with nothing to right it. "We don't have to decide anything now," he said, looking to slow the spin somehow. "We can talk about this some more, weigh the advantages and risks?—"

"I've already decided," Aesylt said. "And I don't expect you to come with me, Scholar. If you change your mind, it's happening the evening after tomorrow."

The spell had broken. She was back to calling him Scholar. "So soon?"

"It happens once a moon cycle." She leaped onto an open spot of floor and tugged at one of the racks, casually straightening things up like she hadn't just told him she planned to attend an orgy in two days' time. "I'll need you to get up."

Dazed, Rahn scooted off the pile and found his footing. "You cannot know all the ways this could go wrong."

"In fairness, Scholar, neither can you."

"There has to be something else... something on the list you've been wanting to try but are maybe afraid to ask?"

Aesylt paused. The gown in her hands drooped to her side. "There is something, but it's not on the list. And it has nothing to do with the Reliquary or our research."

He held out his hands. "All right, what is it?"

"It won't change my decision."

Rahn sighed. "Tell me anyway."

"The Dyvareh." She set the dress aside. "I'd like to recreate it, except... This time, I want to be caught. By you."

For the second time that night, Aesylt had left him without the ability to speak.

"And when you catch me, there are no rules. No limits. No... safety."

"You..." Rahn pulled his hands down his face. The stability of their strange interlude was slipping away, faster than he could grab it. "Why?"

She shrugged, turning away, but not fast enough for him to miss the little smile she tried to hide. "I realized it was a fantasy of mine. And you're the only one I trust to try it with."

Gods, if she knew how many times he'd fallen asleep dreaming of that very thing—hand on his shaft, his shame deeper than the sea. He'd discovered early in his life that while he was a mostly reticent man, there were times when the only thing he wanted was to dominate someone. To have total control over their pleasures... their pain. Aesylt had given him an outlet for it, but he wanted more. So much more. More than he felt safe acting on with her.

Because the fear of losing himself was suffocating.

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course you can." She hesitated while facing a window, a new gown in hand.

"Did something else happen?"

She shook her head without turning.

"Would you tell me?"

"Ancestors, what a mess. Help me get this rack up. It wouldn't be good for either of us if someone came in here."

"Would you tell me?"

Aesylt's shoulders rose and fell. "Nothing else happened. I just need time with my thoughts. The pain and guilt doesn't just disappear because we wish it so."

Rahn came up behind her and folded her into a hug. He pressed his mouth to the top of her head, to show her the support his words seemed inadequate for. "You now have someone who knows your darkest secret, and I only adore you more, Aes. I will always be your friend. I will always be a safe place for you."

She tilted her head back with a smile, but the tears had returned. "I know."

Rahn fellasleep to the gentle snores of Aesylt passed out against his chest and the whistle of wind beyond their tower windows.

For the first time since he'd left the only home he remembered, he dreamed of Duncarrow.