11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven

The second Tsaria woke, he knew where he was, and who he was in bed with. He remembered everything from yesterday and knew without a doubt he would have been lying to himself if he pretended shock at falling asleep. He knew he was here because he wanted to be. Not that he understood that compulsion, but he couldn’t blame his current position on anyone but himself.

His current position was lying flat on his back with the beautiful emir curled up beside him, Kamir’s head on his shoulder, and his slow, even breaths dusting over his skin.

Tsaria knew he should attempt to move without waking the emir. Go find his own chamber. Pretend to still be distrustful.

Which gave him pause. Pretend to be distrustful? Pretend? Had he really gone from bitterness and suspicion to forgiveness in the blink of an eye? He had lost his mind. Maybe it was the shock of the last few days.

He was still wracked with indecision when he realized that the emir’s breathing had changed and that he’d lost the chance to try to sneak away because the emir was very much awake. And probably wondering how to extract himself as well.

Tsaria sighed and dropped his arm, giving the emir an out. But instead of any embarrassed scramble, Tsaria was suddenly looking at two wary, but still gorgeous, amber eyes. Kamir. It was easy to distance himself and call him by his title when he wasn’t looking into Kamir’s very soul. He could see hesitation and caution. Maybe shyness, but he didn’t see shame. Tsaria wasn’t used to morning-after encounters. The customers that visited the pleasure house always had to leave before sun-up, and the times where Tsaria had been taken to someone’s home, he’d had been expected to leave as soon as they had finished fucking him.

Which was probably what he should do now. “I apologize, Highness. I will remove—”

“Please don’t,” but then Kamir’s dusky brown cheeks took on a deeper hue, and Tsaria watched in fascination as the man blushed. “That is… Of course, you shouldn’t feel any obligation, or—”

Tsaria was utterly charmed and completely unable to stop himself from touching Kamir’s trembling bottom lip with his thumb, and carefully stroking it to the corner. He felt the nudge on his hip from Kamir’s rapidly swelling cock, and Kamir’s shy look turned mortified. “I—”

Before his brain even registered the thought, Tsaria shifted onto his side, bent, and fastened his lips over Kamir’s, swallowing the startled noise and demanding entrance with his tongue. Kamir parted his lips with an almost full-body shiver, and Tsaria wrapped his arms around him protectively. They were both naked after the bath, and for once he hadn’t had to command his own body to take interest.

Tsaria always had to submit to a lover. Both men and women, even if submission differed. Sometimes women were the worst. They demanded kisses and for Tsaria to lavish praise on them. Men usually just cared about the end result. It was one of the reasons why he was getting fewer requests with men. Too old, too tall. His days of being delicate were over, but somehow in this bed, he didn’t want to be fucked. Didn’t want to be reduced to a convenient hole. He slid down a little more and propped himself up on one elbow, letting his fingers trail down Kamir’s slim throat and the lump as he swallowed hastily. Then he watched as Kamir’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted as Tsaria’s finger trailed over his chest. Both his nipples peaked before Tsaria’s fingers reached them, and his areolas puckered.

They looked as equally delicious as Kamir’s lips and stopping himself from leaning forward for a taste would have been simply impossible.

“I…I-what?” Kamir babbled and Tsaria smiled as he licked the pebbling nub and gently took it in his teeth. He stretched out his hand and found Kamir’s hard length, swiping his thumb over the tip. Kamir’s moan was long and low, and he moved his hand up Tsaria’s arm. Slowly, hesitantly, Kamir’s fingers reached higher and slid through Tsaria’s long hair, the delicious light scrape on his scalp making his breath catch.

Tsaria let go of Kamir’s nipple and decided to investigate more of his body. He slid lower, but Kamir gripped his arms, so Tsaria stilled and focused on his face. Kamir shook his head, but then whispered, “Let me.”

And without giving Tsaria a chance to utter one startled word, he pressed him to his back and slid down the bed. Tsaria watched, completely stunned. The only time he’d had this himself was during instruction. The younger pleasure slaves were ordered to train, and Tsaria was always gentle with them, but working, he was always the one to use his mouth.

But you’re not working.

Or was he?

Kamir wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met. Cautiously, he licked the base of Tsaria’s length, and Tsaria moaned out his appreciation. With growing confidence, Kamir closed his lips over just the tip, then tentatively traced the slit with his tongue.

“Goddess,” Tsaria whispered, and Kamir hesitated. “Please don’t stop,” Tsaria begged. It would kill him. Each shy lick, the slim fingers that wrapped themselves around his base, and the cautious sucks were driving him insane. No one had ever taken their time with Tsaria, but this adorable man seemed to be trying to map every vein, every inch of skin with his tongue. For the first time in many summers, Tsaria could feel his pleasure building without any sort of self-control.

“Kamir, I’m close,” he warned. It was one thing to suck someone’s cock, an entirely different thing to swallow. But the ache deep in his balls felt so fucking good.

Kamir used his other hand to gently tug on Tsaria’s sac and Tsaria fisted his hands in the sheet below him. “So good,” he murmured breathily. Then Kamir used the tip of his tongue in Tsaria’s slit and pleasure and heat coalesced in his groin. Kamir tightened his fingers and that was it. He could no more hold back his orgasm than he could the cry of Kamir’s name as it left his throat.

Not that Kamir stopped there. He very carefully cleaned him with his tongue until Tsaria bent and lifted the man so he slid up his body. It was Kamir’s turn to moan as his cock scraped Tsaria’s groin. Tsaria laid him on his back, then leaned over and grabbed his hard and leaking cock, wrapping his fingers around it until Kamir began to pant in shallow breaths. “That was for you,” Kamir insisted.

“And this is for you,” Tsaria whispered, leaning over him to swallow the sounds he made when Kamir spurted into Tsaria’s tight grip. Kamir collapsed against him, and Tsaria could just reach one of the napkins lying on the nightstand to quickly wipe his hand, before he pulled him snugly against his chest and wrapped him up close.

He lay there completely stunned, trying to get air back in his lungs and wondering what had just happened. “Kamir—”

But there was a knock at the door and Mansala informed his highness that breakfast was prepared in the salon and that Jael was here.

Kamir smiled lazily before he opened his eyes, but whatever he saw in Tsaria’s sobered him instantly. He wrenched himself out of Tsaria’s arms and sat up. Tsaria frowned as he took in Kamir’s back and his heart sank. Was this regret?

“I’m sorry, that was unfair of me.”

“Unfair?” Tsaria repeated, unsure he had heard correctly. Kamir’s shoulders curled in and Tsaria ached to touch him. What was wrong?

“You probably imagined you were obligated.”

Understanding flashed through him, and he sat up. “No, Kamir.” He addressed him by his name deliberately. “I did that because I wanted to.” He laid his hands on Kamir’s shoulders and pulled until he turned.

“I never want who I am to be in our bed.”

“Well, let’s hope you never shift in here.” Tsaria warmed at the adorable, sheepish smile. It was too easy to tease him. He kissed his cheek. “I know what you mean.” He knew appearances would need to be maintained out there, but he liked that in bed they were just two lovers. “I think we should get breakfast. Are you hungry?”

Kamir shrugged. “I don’t often eat first meal.”

Tsaria didn’t reply because Kamir needed a keeper and he knew that if he slid into that role, he would enjoy it too much. He was coming to trust Kamir had no alternative motives, but the fact that he was the emir and Tsaria had been a pleasure slave would always be the bridge they couldn’t cross.

Tsaria was thankful the adjoining room was for dressing. Warm, fragrant water in two bowls, soap, and towels were laid out, along with two markedly different changes of clothes. Tsaria insisted on helping Kamir dress after they had both washed, but just as Tsaria settled an over-tunic on Kamir, Kamir stepped close. “I preferred it when you smelled of me.”

Tsaria pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at the outrageous statement. It seemed Kamir was only shy when they were in bed. He stood back, then picked up his own simple breeches and shirt. To be fair, he’d seen Attiker in something very similar yesterday, and these were better clothes than he was used to wearing.

As a boy, he’d been lucky to get filthy rags. As a man, he was used to dressing in either provocative silks or nothing at all.

Kamir waited while he tied the shirt, but the heat in his gaze let Tsaria know he was probably wishing he was taking them off, not putting them on.

“I cannot call you by your given name out there,” Tsaria cautioned. Kamir sighed. “I know you gave me leave to do so, but I fear it would make everyone uncomfortable.”

“Especially you?” Kamir guessed correctly.

“Yes, Highness,” Tsaria said firmly and opened the door, standing back for the emir to walk out.

It was charming to hear Jael firing questions at somebody, and he heard a light chuckle he wasn’t sure he recognized. He followed Kamir into the salon, only to see an elegant older lady sitting and listening to Jael’s excited chatter.

Kamir instantly stopped and bowed low from his waist. “Your highness, I am honored—” But Tsaria didn’t hear the rest, he just threw himself on the ground, kneeling and pressing his head to the floor in a proper expression of deference. As a slave he would be expected to do this. He closed his eyes tight and waited for an order. If he had been tardy in this back home, he would have lost his head.

“Gracious me,” her highness spoke. “Isn’t this your companion?”

“It is,” Kamir said quite clearly, but gently. “Tsaria, please stand. I would like to present you to the dowager queen mother, Her Highness, Aristella Kinsharae.”

Tsaria lifted his head and scrambled to his feet, his heart beating mildly. His companion? He glanced up, and she smiled, offering her hand, which he wasn’t sure what to do with. But he took a guess and took it lightly, bowing over it like Kamir had done. She smiled, but instead of letting go, she brought her other hand down to trap his in between hers and patted it.

“Now, I came to invite you to breakfast.”

Tam chuckled and mouthed the word “Liar” at her. She sniffed very disdainfully. “I wanted to make sure everyone knew they were invited.”

“For real?” Jael asked, excitement in his voice.

She let go of Tsaria’s hands, much to his relief, and waved at Mansala. “Perhaps we can all walk together?” Tsaria tried desperately to hang back, but her highness decided that he was to escort her and tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. Four guards all fell into step with them as soon as they left the rooms. Jael squeaked when he saw them and tried to get to the other side of Tsaria. Her highness noticed. “They’re not here to arrest you, my dear. Why don’t you hold my cane as this young man is going to hold me up? The cane was a gift from my late husband, and I simply can’t be parted from it.”

Jael took it like it was studded with diamonds, and for the first time since he had been in her presence, Tsaria smiled. Her highness kept up the conversation with Jael, telling him they were going to meet her grandchildren, and they eventually walked into a much bigger salon with daybeds, padded couches, and smaller tables dotted about. A line of liveried servants was just entering from the other doors and whatever they were carrying made Tsaria’s belly growl. He clutched it in alarm, but her highness simply patted his hand again before letting go and announced she adored boys with a healthy appetite.

“Grandmother, have you been kidnapping our guests?” Attiker walked in just behind the servants, along with the two children Tsaria had been so charmed by yesterday. A plump gray-haired lady entered as well, and the princess was holding her hand and asking about cake. Attiker informed her she wasn’t allowed to eat cake for breakfast, but as soon as Attiker looked away, the cook winked at the princess and she giggled.

Tsaria stepped to one side, but bumped into Kamir, who had come to an abrupt stop. He followed Kamir’s gaze, but it was just Princess Candy and the cook.

“Amar,” Kamir whispered, his voice hoarse, and the cook’s head whipped around.

She pressed her hand tight over her mouth and tears sprang.

“Amar,” Kamir repeated joyfully and rushed forwards, enclosing her in his arms. “I searched everywhere when I could. Please tell me you are well.”

The cook hugged him equally hard and got out a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“This looks like a fascinating story,” her highness said eagerly, taking a seat. The servants arranged a napkin and silverware on a small table then came forward with dishes for her to choose from. “Amar?”

“How about I get the kids sorted and let Cookie explain?” Attiker took all three of them to a small table with chairs and introduced Jael. They were soon chatting like kids do, and individually eating an amount Tsaria would have made last for three days. And not because he didn’t get fed in the pleasure house, but because he had to keep his body as youthful and as small as possible.

Her highness waved at Kamir when they were all sorted, and even the cook had a cup of tea put into her hands. She looked a little flustered, so Kamir explained. “Amar was a cook at the palace in Rajpur when I was a small child. My diet was restricted and one of the many rules was only eating what was planned for me. Amar used to sneak me things when I was really hungry, and she got discovered and lost her position because of me.” Kamir met her gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

The cook just patted Kamir’s cheek and told him not to worry. She stood, excusing herself because the bread would need to go in the oven, and Kamir promised to see her later.

Kamir shook his head in apparent disbelief and sat back down after escorting her to the door, reaching for Tsaria’s hand. He took it instantly, knowing Kamir needed comfort.

“She lost her job over a small slice of apple tart,” he whispered. “I grew up with servants after my mother died. They all had strict instructions on how I should be punished for that.”

Punished? Tsaria grew still, as that sounded too familiar. Way too familiar. It seemed convenient they both shared a similar history. Too convenient. But Kamir seemed to realize he had an audience and quickly commented that the breakfast looked wonderful. Then the servants offered them food and Tsaria watched as Kamir hesitated over even a tiny amount.

Punished? But Tsaria had an awful idea that he knew so he simply filled Kamir’s plate as well as his own, pretending he didn’t notice the approving looks the dowager queen sent him, and kept an eye on Kamir while he ate. When they’d finished, another servant arrived to escort the prince and princess to their lessons. The princess put her hand in Jael’s and asked if he could come.

Jael looked at Tsaria and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He was searching for something to say when Candy beat him to it. “When I came here, I couldn’t even read, and Master Eehle said that was a good thing, because I could start learning the right way.”

“What a good idea,” Attiker said, and as Jael seemed completely starstruck with the princess, he agreed immediately.

When the doors were finally closed and they were alone, Attiker leaned back in his chair. “I know you’re hoping for a plan, but this whole thing seems to hinge on you shifting again, correct?”

“I am required by law to prove my ability in front of all sixteen members of the ruling assembly,” Kamir confirmed, “which means I won’t have the right to the crown until then.”

“Does being a dragon and not a wolf matter?” her highness asked.

“No, a wolf is just an assumption, but the law simply refers to being able to shift into an animal.”

“And I take it you’ve tried?” Attiker said.

“I thought it might be touch,” Kamir blushed and shot Tsaria a look, “But it hasn’t happened again.”

“What will happen if you are unable?” Attiker asked.

Kamir shrugged. “As for me, I suppose I will be exiled if I’m lucky. If my uncle gets the chance, he will kill me.” He paused. “Rajpur will starve.” His voice trembled. Tsaria could hear his pain and wanted to help, but still couldn’t bring himself to fear past what would happen once Kamir did manage to shift. At the moment, everyone thought they needed him, but once Kamir proved his animal, he didn’t doubt he would be thrown away again. It might be Kamir’s inability to shift that was keeping Tsaria alive. Although he was struggling to believe Kamir had any malice in him at all.

“We shall go see Eldara again,” Attiker said decisively. “She looked for a wolf last time, so you never know.”

Kamir noticed Tsaria looking confused. “Eldara is a dragon, and is great friends with Attiker.”

Tsaria absorbed that, but surely she would have sensed another dragon? It didn’t make any sense. How long would this go on for? At some point Kamir would be forced into permanent exile if he didn’t shift, and then he would have no use for Tsaria.

A servant knocked and entered, carrying a sealed parchment on a silver tray. He bowed to Attiker. “Your Highness, a message had just been delivered for his highness, the emir.”

Kamir sat up straighter and took the parchment from the servant, breaking the seal and unfolding it. His indrawn breath was sharp.

“What is it, child?” her highness asked.

Kamir cleared his throat, then read.

The imperial court of Rajpur and all sixteen members of the ruling assembly demand that His Highness Kamir, Prince of Rajpur, present himself at the palace on the dark of the moon and prove his claim to the throne.

If the provenance ritual is a failure either by the absence of his highness or by failure to show his animal, then the assembly will have no choice but to perform the cleansing rites as decreed.

“Cleansing rights?” Attiker queried. “What the hell are they?”

Kamir put a shaky hand across his mouth, and Tsaria’s heart hammered.

“Ancient barbaric rules that no one has witnessed in thousands of summers. I know of them because I’m documenting the history of Rajpur, but I honestly thought no one else alive did.”

“And they are what?” Tsaria asked, knowing something was badly wrong.

“Rajpur, as you know, had a history of satanic worship and barbarism. It was said that if a prince and heir was born without an animal, then the kingdom had displeased the gods.” His voice cracked. “The punishment, the absolvement , as it is called, is to take ten children from each of the ten original named villages in the decree of Rajpur and ritually slaughter them. Their throats are cut on an altar to the gods.”

Kamir gazed at him. “It’s nineteen days to the dark of the moon.”

Tsaria couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Somehow, he had to duplicate what had happened to produce the dragon in Kamir or many children would die. He just didn’t know how.