Matthew Haldeman-Time; In This Land ch 2 - Desconhecido

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In This Land

Part 268 Going to what? “What?” Tano asked. He couldn’t have heard that correctly. He did usually catch every word that fell from Prince Remin’s beautifully seductive mouth, but maybe he’d been too caught up in staring and hadn’t quite heard properly. “You’re going to what, Your Highness?” “I’m going to marry you.” Still cupping his face, Prince Remin kissed him. What? Marry him? It was hard to think about things like words and logic and sentences when Prince Remin was kissing him, so he focused on kissing back, which seemed much more important. The feel of Prince Remin’s hands caressing down his body reminded him that he was completely naked, which he’d honestly kind of forgotten about. Stroking Prince Remin’s neck as Prince Remin’s hands drew his body closer, he groaned as his bare erection met the softness of Prince Remin’s robe and the firmness of Prince Remin’s body. The silken smoothness of Prince Remin’s confident hands rubbing possessively over his ass turned him on so much he knew he had to put his clothes back on, even the wet and dirty ones, before he did something stupid. “Marry me?” Why would Prince Remin say that? “I don’t get it,” he confessed, trying to read Prince Remin’s expression. “We’ll need Anosukinom to give us Ilanosa’s blessing.” Prince Remin wasn’t moving away, so he didn’t, either, but between the hardness of Prince Remin’s erection jutting against his thigh and the way those greedy hands were massaging his ass, he was having a lot of trouble standing still. “I don’t know when he’ll be back. We can present our gifts to Ilanosa in the meantime.” We? Why did he keep saying that word? “Did you find your husband?” Prince Remin looked exasperated. “Tano, you’re my husband. I just explained that to you.” Tano hated to disagree, but, “You didn’t explain anything. You said, ‘It is you. I’m going to marry you,’ and then you kissed me. Not that I’m complaining, I mean, kiss me whenever you want to, please, I could always use more of that! But that’s not really an explanation, and it doesn’t make any sense. You can’t marry me. If you want an example of what an explanation is, I can explain why you can’t marry me, in a whole lot of detail. The best place to start would probably be with the fact that I’m not your husband. I could also mention that your husband isn’t me.” “Unh, mmm, fuck, I need you,” Prince Remin moaned, nuzzling his face against Tano’s neck and biting so gently Tano groaned, clutching at him. Prince Remin probably hadn’t listened to a word of that, but that was okay, words didn’t matter,

only Prince Remin’s lust for him mattered right now. “Tano,” Prince Remin whispered, “Tano,” and Tano just moaned some more while Prince Remin’s fingers trailed up the cleft of his ass. Prince Remin wanted to get in, and he wanted Prince Remin in there, and, oh, gods above, yes, oh. Fuck, Prince Remin’s fingers were way too close to where they shouldn’t be, and Tano was way too turned on to say no, and no one had ever stroked him like this, so thrillingly, so seductively. “Get dressed.” Prince Remin’s voice was low and tense. Prince Remin’s fingers spread him, tenderly, and he groaned, so aroused he didn’t dare move because he didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid. “Come to my office.” His voice shook and he was too turned on to breathe properly. “O-o-o-kay.” The scent of incense muddied his mind and he couldn’t understand why Prince Remin wasn’t fucking him. And then Prince Remin commanded him, in a sexy, teasing little whisper, “Back up.” Immediately obeying, because he couldn’t deny Prince Remin anything, because Prince Remin’s voice made it sound like the first step in some seductive, scandalous game, Tano pried himself off of Prince Remin and moved back two steps. “Fuck.” Shielding his eyes with one hand, Prince Remin muttered to himself something about the gods having mercy and preserving him, turning rapidly and leaving the room in a swirl of gold, the door swinging shut behind him. Remin got out of the clinic as quickly as he could. In the carriage, he noticed a faint, damp smear on his robe. It was subtle, but it was at just the right spot. Tano had gotten pre-cum on his robe. He had the carriage circle the palace an extra time so he could finish jacking off. Tano didn’t want to masturbate in the office bathroom, but that had been too intense. It took him just a moment to get off, and then he borrowed some clothes and grabbed his own wet, dirty clothes and rushed back to the palace. Every time Tano thought about how much he really needed to get laid, he also thought about how Prince Remin needed it even more than he did. It seemed so wrong, for the gods to deny Prince Remin that wonderful, intense pleasure. Even temporarily.

Surely Prince Remin didn’t actually mean to marry Tano. He must have been horny and frustrated about waiting for his real husband. Tano didn’t know how he was going to talk prince Remin out of this - - and surely Prince Remin hadn’t really meant it, anyway - - but he knew that Prince Remin wanted to see him. He checked in on the kitchens for an instant, then raced up to his apartment to change for Prince Remin. Dressed in pale yellow shorts and a matching vest, he brushed his hair and went to Prince Remin’s office. Now that he’d decided to marry Tano, Remin wanted to go ahead and just bury his face between Tano’s thighs and enjoy himself. But he couldn’t take the gods’ leniency for granted. And if he really were going to marry Tano, then uninhibited, penetrative sex with Tano was in his immediate future. He could wait. He could wait. He could wait. Probably. As soon as Tano stepped into his office, Remin locked the door, stripped, and made out with Tano on the couch, mercilessly abusing the pillow between their bodies. Tano’s sandals were on the floor, Tano’s vest crumpled among the couch cushions, Tano’s tight little shorts the only thing protecting Remin from utter disgrace. He didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid, so when they’d temporarily stopped making out, Remin got up and sat at the opposite end of the couch. That lasted for at least a few seconds. Then Tano was on top of him, in his lap, and he was kissing Tano with feverish desire and peeling down those sexy little shorts. Putting a hand over the front of his shorts, Tano nuzzled Remin’s cheek. “Did you want to talk to me?” Talk, no, “Mmm, hmm,” Remin murmured against Tano’s neck, cupping Tano’s ass in both hands. Yes, that was what he needed, that was all that he needed, and then he’d have everything. Tano gave him everything that he’d wanted. What did he give Tano? What could he do for Tano? He liked to think that he’d done a decent job as a boyfriend, but that was nothing like the position of a husband. What kind of husband would he make? Kissing Tano’s chin, he rubbed his thumb down Tano’s nose and looked into Tano’s eyes. Wealth, sex, authority, belas, jewels, he could give Tano those things, but Tano wasn’t the kind of man who based a marriage on materialism. What Remin wanted was to give Tano a home. Love. Happiness. The kind of future and fulfilling life Tano deserved.

He could give Tano a family. A sense of home and belonging, the kind of security Tano had lost years ago. Remin had a busy, active, very loving family and the most secure home in the world. There was nothing but peace and love and joy between Anosukinom’s walls. But Tano deserved more than a marriage of convenience. Tano deserved to be loved and treasured. Remin had never planned to marry Tano, and so he’d never planned to love Tano. He’d expected to fall in love with someone else entirely. He’d held back from Tano sexually but also emotionally. He hadn’t wanted to toy with Tano, to hurt Tano, to break Tano’s heart. Dabbling around, playing at love with someone who genuinely loved him would’ve been cruel, and he’d known early on that he couldn’t forgive himself for hurting Tano. But he’d also known that he wanted to keep Tano in his life forever. He’d expected to be close with Tano for the rest of their lives. An odd demand to place on someone he’d only recently met. He’d never been in love before. What was love? What did it feel like? He’d studied the subject, had counseled countless people on the matter, had tried to learn from Ilanosa. But had he succumbed to it? Could he love Tano? He couldn’t really make a mistake and marry the wrong man. Ilanosa wouldn’t let him marry someone bad for him. But what was in Tano’s future? What other paths stretched out before Tano’s feet? Would marriage to Remin prevent Tano from some other, better happiness? “Tano.” He knew the answer already, but he wanted to talk about it. Lightly touching Tano’s cheek, he asked, “What do you want out of life?” There was no hesitation. “You,” Tano breathed, gazing at him as if there were nothing else worth seeing. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” And that, right there, was why Remin had to tread carefully. That was why Remin couldn’t afford to make a mistake. If he married Tano and he ever regretted it, even for a moment, he’d completely destroy Tano’s heart. “Uh.” Clearing his throat, Tano blushed faintly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do I want out of life? The same things that everyone wants, I think. To be happy, to be well, to be close to the gods. To please the gods, if I can. I want to stay here forever, or as long as King Xio Voe will have me. I want to cook here in the palace and serve the royal family. I want to be near to Anosukinom. And I want to be near you, wherever you are. Basically, I guess, I want to keep doing what I’ve been doing. The way things are right now, I can’t really think of a way to improve upon that.” “What about a family of your own? Getting married.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll meet someone. I don’t really think about it a lot because I just figure that it’ll happen when it happens. You can’t plan ahead a lot to meet the love of your life. It’s not the kind of thing you can schedule. I’d like to be married, someday. I think that I’m ready for it, pretty much. More now than I was before, anyway. I have an incredible job, I make way more money than I really expected to, I have a terrific apartment that I don’t do anything with. I like taking care of people.” “What are you looking for, in a husband?” “Oh, um.” Tano frowned, thinking it over. “A guy. I always expected to end up with an Anorian, but I guess I’m not too picky about that. Someone my age. Someone who likes to eat, someone I can feed. Someone who likes a lot of sex. All of the time. Someone who has his priorities in order. Someone who doesn’t expect me to be monogamous. I mean, we can work out some guidelines, I don’t have to have sex with everybody I see.” Remin absolutely loved Tano’s sexual nature. “Would you let your husband watch?” “Every time, if he wanted to. I’d love to share it with him. We can share guys together, or he can just watch. It can be guys I meet around town or sex workers or both, I don’t care. I’m not really that picky about who I have sex with, or how, I just want a lot of it. And he could have sex with anyone he wanted, too, this isn’t a one-sided thing. Women, too, if he’s attracted to them.” “What about travel?” Tano smiled politely. “What about travel?” “You’ve already traveled quite a bit. What if your husband never wanted to leave the country?” Tano laughed. “I never want to leave the country. My work is here. You’re here, Anosukinom is here. I don’t even want to leave this city.” “How would you feel about marrying me?” Tano smiled at him. “Aside from the fact that I’d be destroying your chance for any future happiness, it would be the greatest thing ever to happen to me. So, the idea’s pretty much horrifying, but still nice to think about, in an odd way. I mean, I’d be thrilled, but you’d be miserable, so I’d be miserable, and that takes all of the fun out of it. I’m not your husband.” “What’s the difference between the way you love me and the way you think you’ll love your husband?” Tano’s gaze never wavered. “I won’t love him as much as I love you.”

Awareness of Ilanosa prickled at the back of Xio Voe’s mind. Becoming still, he waited for instinct to guide him. Did a particular matter require his immediate attention? Nothing occurred to him. He went back to work. “I won’t love him as much as I love you.” Tano was too honest a man to lie about something like that. Too respectful of him - too much in love with him - - to lie to him. Tano had too much integrity to try to manipulate him emotionally. Men had told Remin, before, that they’d never want anyone else the way they wanted him, that no one else got them off like he did. It had never bothered him; sex wasn’t love. They’d get over it. Someday he’d be just an exciting memory of lustsex, but they’d find other partners and better relationships. Since Remin had figured out that Tano was his husband, he’d thought that it was a good thing that Tano would always love him the most. But what if he were wrong? What if his husband wasn’t Tano? What if he met his real husband tomorrow? What if he proposed to Tano and made Tano believe as much as he did that they would be together forever, only to dump Tano for Lo Perfect Husband later? What would that do to Tano? It struck him for the first time, in its entirety, that Tano might not get over him when his husband came along. He’d assumed that he’d find someone, and that Tano would find someone, and that they’d simply retain their friendship with each other while experiencing the fullness of love with other people. But to make promises, then end the relationship when he wasn’t leaving Tano’s life? Even if he tried to avoid Tano and let their friendship fade, he’d still be in the palace every day. He’d have to fire Tano as his personal chef, avoid the kitchens, bar Tano from the temples, avoid Tano when their paths crossed at the clinics, bar Tano from the festivals - - it was too much. It was ridiculous. Remin was a part of everyday life in the palace. And he was an enormous part of Tano’s spiritual life. To attempt in any way to remove himself from Tano’s life would be cruel. It would go against the gods. Should he trust that Tano’s own natural flow of emotions would shift? That Tano’s love for him would fade over time, on its own? That Tano’s love for another man would someday grow even stronger and outshine it?

Tano was so loyal. So earnest. Tano’s love for him wasn’t capricious. Even if he discouraged Tano, Tano’s love wouldn’t wither; Tano would just begin to avoid him, out of respect for his wishes. There was no way to reject Tano without causing Tano pain. He’d assumed that things would work out. He’d assumed that Tano’s love for him was manageable. That it wouldn’t interfere with Tano’s other relationships. That Tano would still find even stronger love elsewhere. He hadn’t expected Tano to love him this way. He didn’t deserve it. What if he ended up abusing it? “I’m not worth all of that,” he argued. “I’m arrogant, I’m greedy, I’m demanding, I’m constantly under pressure and I don’t always deal with pressure well, I’m so overworked that I always neglect some aspect of my life. I take everything too seriously.” Tano laughed. “I know all of those things about you.” Great. Remin didn’t know whether to be touched or annoyed that Tano thought that he was arrogant, greedy, and demanding. “Maybe I was wrong, earlier. You should give your love to someone who will nurture you in return. I have a whole country to run. Anyone I’m with is going to be neglected. I spare a lot of time for you now because our relationship is still fresh, but it can’t last that way much longer.” “I really, honestly don’t think that I’m your husband. But as far as neglect, I’m an Anorian citizen,” Tano pointed out. “When you take care of the country, you take care of me. When you pray and you lead and you make decisions, you’re looking after me along with everyone else. No one in Orina Anoris can say that Prince Remin neglects him.” “That’s…” That was such a generous way of looking at things, it was completely unfair, and just like Tano. “Why are you so good to me?” Remin asked, rubbing his hands up and down Tano’s sides. The sleek firmness of Tano’s torso and the ripple of muscle under his hands soothed Remin’s aggravation. Tano’s smile was so fond and affectionate that it was impossible to deny how much Tano enjoyed being with him. “Why are you so wonderful?” Groaning, Remin wanted to be agitated, but really he was just flattered and pleased. He didn’t know what to do. The gods held all of the answers; maybe they would communicate some of them to him. Dismissed, Tano changed and went to the kitchens. He’d been away all day; surely there was something he could do to contribute now.

He seemed to have annoyed Prince Remin with his honesty. He regretted that, but he couldn’t not be honest with Prince Remin. Maybe being conflicted about Prince Remin would help him to be a better cook. Why did Prince Remin keep talking about marriage? Not just marriage, but his marriage? And marrying him? Lately Prince Remin seemed annoyed whenever he brought up Prince Remin’s husband, so he tried not to talk about it. It seemed odd for Prince Remin to want to talk about marriage, finally, only to talk about him, not the husband. And what had that “I’m going to marry you?” thing been about? He couldn’t even think about taking it seriously. But what had brought on all of those questions? Marrying Prince Remin. It would be paradise; his heart leapt just at the thought. But the happiness would only last for so long. Prince Remin would grow to resent him. Prince Remin enjoyed his company now, but marrying him would be settling for a lesser kind of happiness, and they both knew it. He couldn’t provide the grandest love of Prince Remin’s life, and that knowledge would eat away at them both. He couldn’t resign Prince Remin to a lifetime of unhappiness just so that he could enjoy the dream of a lifetime as Prince Remin’s husband. For Prince Remin, marrying Tano would be settling. For Tano, marrying anyone but Prince Remin would be settling. The best future imaginable was life with Prince Remin. Nothing else could come close to that kind of splendor. His goal, now, was to retain his friendship with Prince Remin, so that even after they both married other people, he could still remain in Prince Remin’s life. That would be good; that would be okay. It wouldn’t be what he truly yearned for, but he also wouldn’t have to feel guilty for ruining Prince Remin’s life. If one of them were to find the brightest future, he wanted it to be Prince Remin. Not himself, at Prince Remin’s expense. He no longer expected to live the fullest, happiest life possible. That dream was forbidden to him now. Now he just wanted to find himself a companion who wouldn’t mind always being second-best. Someone who would understand that his heart belonged to Prince Remin. Seated on the floor of his office, Remin closed his eyes. As prayers whispered through his mind, he opened himself to the gods. He sought understanding. He sought Ilanosa’s guidance. Did he love Tano?

Was the kind of love Tano deserved in his heart? Could he give Tano the kind of marriage Tano wanted? Could he be the husband Tano needed? He didn’t care about the mythical beast that was his husband. It was Tano, or it wasn’t Tano. He cared about Tano, about their relationship, about whether they belonged together. Whether he potentially might be a good match for other men entirely was irrelevant. Had Orinakin bought that bracelet, that gift, for Tano? Or for someone else? He’d bought it for Remin’s husband, so if Remin married Tano, the gift was intended for Tano. The rest was just games. Semantics. If he truly were destined to marry someone else, he’d marry someone else. Ilanosa wouldn’t bless his union with Tano if it weren’t right. But it would be wrong, then, to propose marriage to Tano only to have their relationship rejected by Ilanosa. He didn’t want to raise Tano’s hopes only to break Tano’s heart. So he had to be sure. What did Ilanosa want from him? What did Ilanosa plan for him? Which steps would lead him down the best path? He wanted Tano. He needed Tano. Tano was his husband, he was sure of it. Tano was the one he wanted. The one he’d chosen. The one he’d found. The one he wanted to keep. Other men, other husbands, other possibilities, didn’t seem to matter. The array of unknown choices had daunted him, before, but they didn’t seem important now. Tano was real, and with him. They were abstract and easily dismissed. Tano would be with him forever. Had to be with him forever. He wanted most men, but he wanted Tano so much more. Yet his passion for Tano didn’t threaten him. It seemed safe and inevitable. It had always been easier to be with Tano than with anyone else. Tano was in love with him. Tano’s love for him wasn’t faked or fleeting. His feelings for Tano felt as if they’d last forever. But was it love? Did he love Tano? What did Ilanosa want? What should he do? Orinakin felt Remin first, before seeing him. Seated at his desk, drafting a proposal, Orinakin felt turmoil knot in his gut. Felt uncertainty and conflict burn in his chest. Burdened by guilt and self-doubt, he

dropped his pen onto his desktop, sitting back. Stress. He felt so much stress, he wanted to dive through the tunnel and run to Bade. The door to his office swung open, and Remin walked in. Pale and exhausted, Remin muttered a greeting and eased into a chair across from Orinakin’s desk with the care and fragility of a much older man. Immediately recognizing that Remin was the source of his stress, Orinakin got up and came around the desk, drawing a chair up much closer. Beneath Remin’s stress, Orinakin’s chest filled with empathy. “What’s happened?” Sighing, Remin rubbed his hands over his face. “Anoha Ilanosa, I don’t know what to do. I’ve locked myself into hurting him no matter what I do.” Him? “Tano?” Orinakin guessed. This wasn’t political, then. Maybe that explained why Remin was so upset. Remin grew angry at people sometimes for political reasons, was irritated and disappointed by bickering priests, but always trusted in the gods and in the goodness of his fellow Anorians. A personal situation was different, and something Remin wasn’t accustomed to. Remin counseled people all day long, but he rarely had to contend with his own problems. Making unpopular governmental decisions had been a part of his life for years now. Making personal choices and causing loved ones pain as a result was something he was much less familiar with. It had definitely been a good idea to convince Remin to try being a boyfriend before jumping into marriage. “The dove comes before the wolf,” Remin said earnestly, “and the-” “Tell me in plain sentences,” Orinakin suggested, reaching over and taking Remin’s hand. Remin gave Orinakin a pitying look, then sighed, sitting back and dragging his free hand through his hair. “I want to marry him. He’s the one, I’m sure that he’s the one, it’s practically written all over him. At the same time - - and I’ve never felt this way before, I’ve never felt so careless and defiant - - I don’t care if he’s the one, this mysterious husband everyone keeps telling me about. I don’t want that guy, I want Tano, whether Tano’s that man or not. Tano’s the one I want to be with, the one who’s helped me, the one who’s defended me, the one I need to be with and keep in my life. I want to spend every day with Tano for the rest of my life.” Remin had been talking about marriage, and talking about Tano, for some time now, but not in the same sentences. Leaning closer, Orinakin laced their fingers. It was exciting, to hear Remin speak this way, to see Remin find his destiny. But the word “love” hadn’t entered the conversation yet, and that gave Orinakin reservations. “I didn’t know that you felt so strongly about him.”

“Neither did I,” Remin admitted. “But I always have. He’s been such a different experience since we met. I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted any other man, especially since I turned twenty. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. His dick, you have to see his dick, Orinakin, you’ll never look at anyone else the same way. And his ass, his ass is beautiful, it’s all of the perfection in the world. His dick is better than his chocolate cake.” Orinakin was happy to see Remin so excited, and Remin’s method of flattery in that last sentence made him want to laugh. But the word “love” still hadn’t shown up. And Remin still felt terribly burdened. Lightly squeezing Remin’s hand, Orinakin gave him a coaxing, sympathetic look. “Remin.” Wincing, Remin groaned. “This is why I came to you. You have all of the same tricks I do. I can’t hold back anything when you look at me that way.” “Why do you want to marry Tano? And why does thinking about it make you feel so miserable?” “He’s the one,” Remin said. “I feel it. It’s like I looked at him and recognized all of the happiness in the world in him. Like the gods marked him and set him aside just for me and I found him. I want to be with him and share everything with him and celebrate him. I want to set him aside and show him off.” Remin’s excitement tingled in Orinakin’s chest. Remin’s joy in Tano was a refreshing, exhilarating breeze clearing away the stress, and Remin’s desire for Tano pulsed pleasantly between Orinakin’s thighs. Sighing, Remin put his hand over Orinakin’s. “Tano’s in love with me. If I reject him to be with someone else, it would break his heart. He would never be content without me.” Remin winced. “It’s hard to say that without feeling like an ass.” “Has he told you these things?” “Yes. He said them before, but today’s the first day I really heard him.” Nodding, Orinakin believed him. Remin was used to being the center of attention and familiar with people developing very real feelings for him simply by virtue of his importance in their life. Remin was adept at respectfully discouraging people and nudging their attention in other directions. He thought that Tano was in a different situation, and he was right. “If you intend to marry him, then you won’t need to reject him.” “What if I’m wrong? It’s very possible for me to propose to Tano only to have Ilanosa deny us a wedding. What would that do to him? To ask him to marry me, to convince him that I mean it, and then to deny him after all? I’ve only gotten this far by not making promises I can’t keep, by not leading him on.”

“Do you think that there’s a good chance that Ilanosa will say no?” “I’ve chosen Tano, but what if Ilanosa’s chosen someone else for me? I know that I’m right, and I don’t care if I’m wrong, but I don’t know what the gods have planned.” “Remin.” Orinakin held Remin’s gaze. “Do you love him?” Hope sprang into Remin’s expression, then faltered. He squeezed Orinakin’s hand. “I wish that you would tell me.” Closing his eyes, Orinakin filtered his own emotions away, tucking them aside. He separated out Remin’s stress and self-doubt. The seething, devouring, throbbing mass of Remin’s urgent, passionate lust was so overwhelming that Orinakin almost couldn’t get past it. Gripping Remin’s hand, he tried to compartmentalize everything, to clear the way, but Remin wanted sex, and men, and Tano so badly - especially Tano, gods above, Remin wanted Tano so desperately that Orinakin felt scalded just brushing too close - - that it was hard to separate Remin’s lust from everything else. Its tangled roots curled around every other emotion Remin had. Orinakin smiled. He was smiling. “Do I love him?” Remin searched Orinakin’s face for more clues. Orinakin’s smile had to mean yes. Orinakin’s smile was compassionate. “I wish that you would tell me.” That was annoying. Turning questions around was part of Remin’s game. But this was why he’d come to Orinakin. If he’d wanted easy reassurance, he would’ve gone to Anosanim. “I don’t trust myself. I don’t know how honest I am. What I think, what I feel, what I want to be true, it gets snarled up. I feel so guilty, I’m so afraid of hurting him, that I might be mistaking something else for love just because that’s what I want to feel. I want him so much - - gods above, Orinakin I want him so much - - that I might mistake that for genuine emotion. I’ve never wanted someone like this, so of course there must be emotion involved - - but that doesn’t mean it’s true.” “You don’t want to hurt him.” Orinakin’s voice was so understanding, Remin felt reassured simply by the sound of it. “You know that hoping to love him or wanting to love him will not make you love him. It will only hurt him more to be promised things he can’t have. It would be kinder of you to break up with him now, before you go any further. Are you strong enough and generous enough to do that?”

And that was the problem. That was, forever, his problem, when it came to Tano. “No.” He hated himself for it, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t reject Tano, not because he was afraid of hurting Tano - - Orinakin was right, it would be kinder to push Tano away now than cause even more pain in the future - - but because he wanted Tano for himself. He was too greedy. He wanted Tano too much. He got too much from Tano to be willing to relinquish Tano now. “I can’t let him go. I won’t let him go. I want him to be with me no matter what it costs us.” Orinakin nodded, releasing Remin’s hand with a light squeeze. “But why is that?” “I get too much from him. Not only what he gives me, but what I get from being with him. I’m so much happier with Tano. Life is so much more fun with Tano. I laugh more, I’m more comfortable inside my own skin, I’m a better priest, I’m a better leader. He gave me sex again. He gave me life again. And now that I have it, I don’t want to have it without him.” He didn’t want to say it, because he didn’t want to be wrong, but he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I’m in love with him. I know that I’m in love with him, I’m sure of it, I don’t know what else this would be.” But what if he were wrong? What if Ilanosa didn’t agree or approve? “Let’s look at the worst possible outcome.” “If Tano leaves me?” Orinakin’s eyebrows rose as he smiled. “You don’t think that it says a lot about your perspective, that Tano leaving you is the worst possible outcome?” What else would it be? “What did you mean?” “Well, I was thinking about you telling Tano that you love him, and the two of you agreeing to marry, and Ilanosa or Kudorin denying you. What would you do if that happened? How would you cope?” If he couldn’t marry Tano, he couldn’t have sex with Tano. But that wasn’t the thing that worried him the most. “If Tano thinks that he’s not right for me, and that he’s holding me back, he’ll leave me. If I convince him to marry me, but we can’t get married, he’ll leave for my sake. I can’t let that happen.” “And that’s what scares you. The uncertainty. Not knowing whether your engagement will be accepted and blessed.” “I’ve seen everyone else go through this, and I am not enjoying experiencing it firsthand.” He counseled nervous couples all of the time. He’d take their qualms more seriously in the future. “I want to be certain before I push the issue with Tano. I want to be sure of our future before I drag him into it. I don’t want to beg him to believe that I love him if Ilanosa’s going to make me look like a liar.”

“Then you want the blessing first, and the proposal second. That’s not how it works,” Orinakin said gently. “When you speak with couples in this situation, what do you tell them?” He’d said it so many times, he didn’t even have to think about it. “As the bee finds the flower, you have found each other. In all of this world, in our blessed land, your hearts have chosen each other. You built love together, and now you must continue to build a relationship. One worthy of marriage. Enjoy this time together. Enjoy this opportunity to demonstrate to the gods how grateful you are for your blessings and how much you can do with them. Waiting together, working together, seeking Ilanosa’s blessing isn’t a punishment, it’s a chance to worship and learn and grow as a couple. Work towards a committed partnership solid enough to handle your day-to-day lives. Work towards a relationship strong enough to withstand anything the future might bring. When the time is right, when your love for each other and your commitment to each other pleases the gods, then you will receive the blessing. Maybe, it is true, your relationship with each other will never be blessed. But through the process of trying to make it work, you’ll come to understand why it can’t work. You’ll both be in a better place to move forward, then. And possibly ready for a new future with someone else, bringing with you all that you have learned from this relationship.” Orinakin grinned at him. “Sounds like good advice. Maybe you should take it.” Brushing dirt from his hands, Rini picked up one of the kids, carrying her across the field. As she laughed and told him to go faster, he noticed Kudorin wandering around alone, a few yards away, fading into and out of existence. Where do you keep going? Kudorin’s voice sounded distant. Remin and Xio Voe need me. Was anything bad going on? For what? He heard a faint chuckle. Maybe they don’t need me as much as I want to be with them. Finishing his diagram, Xio Voe gave it a final glance to ascertain that he had correctly labeled the insect’s anatomical features. He was happy to assist Princess Xio Wae in her entomological studies as his time allowed. Stepping out of his laboratory, he found Tak standing there, lounging against the wall, eyeing him. As he met the bela’s eyes, Tak sauntered forward with a friendly smile.

Tak’s black satin robe ended at mid-thigh. Only three black pearl buttons held it shut, and Tak toyed with the topmost one as he smiled at Xio Voe. “Perhaps it is presumptuous of me,” Xio Voe said dryly. “May I assume that you seek me out for personal reasons?” Grinning, Tak freed the first button, licking his lips. “Yes. Very, very personal reasons.” He didn’t have much time. He was a few minutes ahead of schedule, however. No, he should not give in to the self-indulgent Anorian lifestyle. He had standards to maintain. Tak’s fingers lingered on the second button as he stepped even closer. His light scent reminded Xio Voe of tumbling Anosukinom across black silk sheets. “I promise to be quick.” As Xio Voe’s long, solid erection slid between Tak’s pouting, red lips, Kudorin groaned, dropping back across the grass, invisible to others. Unh, yes, he wanted to be there, to be the one on his knees before Xio Voe, to feel those long fingers thread through his hair as he bobbed up and down on that big, beautiful dick. Moaning, he licked his lips, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into the grass, his back arching as the silky, blunt head of Xio Voe’s erection nudged down Tak’s throat. Humming to himself, Tano sliced the fish into even squares. The rolls had to come out of the oven soon, and they’d need to grate some carrots when Koso got back. “Where did that boy put the garlic?” Lo Ariside muttered, peering into a cabinet. “Pantry, left side, middle shelf,” Tano said, cutting deftly. The fish made him think of Prince Remin doing physical labor. Of massaging Prince Remin’s tired body. Of Prince Remin’s blessedly temporary haircut. Of that magnificent golden hair spilling across his hands as“Good knife work.” Startled by the unexpected voice, Tano looked up from the fish to see Prince Talin standing only a foot away. “Your Highness.” Bowing, he wiped his hands on his apron. “Thank you. What may I do for you?” Shrugging, Prince Talin crossed his arms over his chest. “Just checking on you. How’s everything going?”

“Checking on me?” Tano couldn’t imagine why anyone would feel compelled to do that. “Everything’s fine, Your Highness. I hope that it’s not an intrusion to ask why in the world you’d want to check on me. I can’t imagine anything less interesting to you than how I cook fish. Well, no, that’s an exaggeration, there are actually things less interesting than that, I mean, most of what goes on in the world is incredibly mundane, but a man of your talents and responsibilities-” “You’re my brother’s boyfriend. In some people’s eyes, that makes what you do my business.” “Oh!” That made sense, then. “If I had a brother like Prince Remin, I’d certainly make it a priority to stay informed about the habits of his boyfriend. I don’t think that I’ve done anything worth mentioning lately, though. I went to the clinic earlier today, but that wouldn’t interest you. I’m not a very fascinating person, so I can’t entertain you with tales of my adventures, but at least you can be assured that I won’t roam around embarrassing Prince Remin. Spending most of my time in the kitchen makes me pretty boring, actually.” “It must be nice, dating a prince.” “Nice is an awfully mild term for it.” Tano laughed, trying to think of a more appropriate word. “Dating Prince Remin is exciting, splendid, blissful, thrilling, fulfilling, life-changing, all sorts of things.” “He has a lot of money. Buys you a lot of nice things.” “He’s given me some incredible paintings. They’re - - well, who am I telling, you know all about Jacacean realism. I never expected to own anything like that. It shows off how amazing food really is way better than I could ever describe it myself.” Prince Talin grunted, glancing over Tano’s fish. “Kind of a shame, someone with your skill working as a servant. You should run your own place.” “I couldn’t ever describe it as a shame to work here. I’m proud to work for King Xio Voe and Prince Remin in Anosukinom’s home. This is the chance of a lifetime. I’d rather work here than run my own restaurant any day.” Prince Talin’s sexy, full lips twisted into what looked, for a second, like a sneer. “Sorry. I thought you had some ambition.” “I guess I put my energy into trying to be a good chef and a good person, more than, I don’t know, my own fame? I already have the best job in the world. I’m not sure what else there is to aspire to, in that respect. History won’t remember my name, but there’s no reason history should know my name. I’m just the guy who feeds a few members of the royal family, and that should be more than enough for anybody, really.”

“Then this job is so great that you’d work for free.” “In a heartbeat.” But, wait, “I’d need clothes. I guess I could try to pay for them with food, but that wouldn’t be right, they’re not really my goods to barter with. And I can’t cook naked, that just wouldn’t be appropriate.” “Then if we need to adjust the palace budget, you wouldn’t mind if we slashed your salary to save money.” “Oh, that’s fine. I already make far too much money as it is. Usually on my own, I spend most of my money on food. Ingredients for new recipes I want to try or new and different spices. But since I have a separate budget to buy food with, I don’t have very much to spend my personal income on. Even if I got married and started adopting children, my current salary is way too generous.” Taking a step back, Prince Talin eyed him narrowly. “I’m digging around, trying to find out if you’re avaricious or short-tempered or possibly flawed in some way. Maybe you could help me out by telling me what’s wrong with you.” Oh! Laughing, Tano finally understood those odd comments. “I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve been more cooperative. I do have a temper, when it comes to defending Prince Remin. I’m not very greedy, though. I’ve spent a lot of money on new clothes for Prince Remin - - for me to wear around him, not for him to wear - but other than that, I don’t really buy things for myself. Um.” He frowned, trying to think. “I don’t know, I’m not a very rebellious person. I don’t lie or steal. I’m not violent. I don’t yell at old people or kick horses or anything. I don’t sing very well,” he offered. Wait, “Does this mean that you’re not going to cut my salary? Because you can, I wouldn’t mind.” “He what?!” Anosanim wanted to scream with excitement. Wanted to run to wherever Remin was and hug him. Wanted to throw a party. Yes, a party! While Orinakin explained again, Anosanim listened with half an ear. It would be a lavish celebration of love. They’d have to hire appropriate entertainment, of course, and“I don’t get it.” Desin sounded irritated. “He knows that Tano’s his husband, but he doesn’t know that Tano’s his husband? Either he knows or he doesn’t know, it can’t be both.” “He knows, but he isn’t sure,” Bade explained. “Or, I guess, he knows, but he doesn’t care?” Frowning, Bade looked at Orinakin. “Desin’s right. I don’t get it, either. I thought that I did, but it makes more sense when you say it than when I say it.”

“He doesn’t have confirmation,” Orinakin said. “Only his own instincts and wishes. We don’t want to tell him that Kudorin’s confirmed it, so it’s best if we try not to say anything about it, directly.” Anosanim couldn’t help but notice that everyone in the room was staring at him. “But he’s proposing! He’s in love! Of course he should know! How can we keep such important information from him at a time like this?” “He has to build his relationship with Tano on his own. Not take it for granted,” Selorin said. “I’m starting to wonder if this might be part of the reason Kudorin left when he did,” Orinakin said. “To avoid the temptation to interfere.” “It’s hardly interfering.” Anosanim couldn’t believe how silly they were being. “Remin’s already in love and already planning for marriage. How could we not encourage him along? When do we get to admit how happy we are for him, if not now?” “We’re happy for him,” Bade said. “We just have to wait until he’s engaged, right?” Desin asked. “Once he has Ilanosa’s blessing, we can tell him we knew it was Tano all along.” Oh, this was absolutely aggravating! Remin was in love! Anosanim wanted to hug him and talk with him and hug Tano and share in their joy! Of all times in Remin’s life to have to keep his distance, this had to be the worst! Remin was finally finding happiness! Surely Anosanim could congratulate him and talk to him about“Yes.” Selorin’s voice was strict. “Once he has Ilanosa’s blessing. Not before.” Frowning at Selorin, Anosanim refused to quail before him. “You don’t need to use your courtroom demeanor. I’m not going to ‘interfere.’ I’ll stay away from Remin if you really think that I absolutely have to.” For now. Xio Voe deemed it prudent to communicate more often with the royal high priest in Anosukinom’s absence. When Anosukinom was present, it was assumed that he was well-informed regarding the royal high priest’s activities. Xio Voe, not being omniscient despite his best efforts, decided to make an effort to be aware of the royal high priest’s movements and actions. His preferred method would have been to require Remin to send him a daily detailed letter. However, he understood that Anosukinom would desire more personal attention. Therefore, out of respect for Anosukinom’s wishes, he made time to pay a visit to Remin’s office.

He found Remin pleasant and businesslike yet atypically preoccupied. They covered the purpose of Xio Voe’s visit efficiently, which left Xio Voe free to leave. However, as a responsible family member in Anosukinom’s absence, it fell to him to attempt to inquire into Remin’s emotional state. Part of developing a close, familial, Anorian relationship with someone entailed seeming to be concerned about his personal life. So, Xio Voe took it upon himself to ask, “What troubles you? Has your personal life become unfulfilling?” “No, no.” Laughing, Remin flipped his hair over one shoulder. Formerly, Remin had touched himself much less often than the rest of the Seven Siblings, something Xio Voe approved of. Grooming and petting oneself in public was inappropriate. Lately, however, he had begun to preen himself with the regularity of Anosanim. It was seductive, flirtatious behavior, and it attracted a great deal of attention whenever he did it publicly. “It’s more fulfilling than it’s ever been. In a very different way, of course.” Remin eyed him frankly. “Do you genuinely want to hear about this?” “It behooves me to invite you to confide in me.” Remin grinned at him. “I’ll try to keep it short. I’m in love with Tano, which has been pretty exciting. My goal is to marry him and have excessive amounts of sex with him. But if I want to protect him half as much as he’s tried to protect me, I shouldn’t tell him that I’m in love with him and that I really do want to marry him until I’m absolutely certain that Ilanosa will bless our engagement. And if there’s anything that I’ve learned, it’s that being absolutely certain of what the gods want or intend is for liars and fools. So I’m left loving him and not being able to tell him, not sure when I’ll ever be able to say it even though I know how much it would mean for him to hear it.” Xio Voe was not proud of his own obtuseness; in the past, he’d been embarrassingly foolish regarding his own relationship with Anosukinom. Therefore, it would be hypocritical of him to scorn Remin’s foolishness. Still, he wished that the man charged with running the country were a little more sharp-witted. Were all people this stupid when it came to their personal relationships? “What is your plan of action?” “The tree grows beautiful leaves, only to have the wind snatch them away. The ant readies himself to cross the pathway, yet so does the carriage driver. Plans are little more than wishes and dreams.” Xio Voe decided to disregard Remin’s metaphoric mumblings and wait for a more informative answer.

“I’d like to work on building a stronger relationship with Tano. To prepare and practice for marriage. To establish a foundation for our future, so that we can both be more confident in our relationship. To make it undeniable that we are better for each other than anyone else is. I don’t just have to prove our relationship to the gods, I have to prove it to Tano. He’s convinced that there’s someone else out there for me.” “If he’s correct?” “I don’t care,” Remin said flatly. “I don’t know who else it out there, and I don’t care. No one else is Tano. I could develop a relationship with someone else, but it would never be what I have with Tano. He’s brought me happiness I wasn’t even looking for. He’s given me not only what I needed for so long, he’s given me more. I love him. And I want him to be happy. I want to give him the kind of home and security and joy for life he’s given me. I’m more happy and comfortable in my own life than I ever was before. I want to share that with him.” “It is the height of arrogance to believe that you are the best possible partner for someone else.” “I’m selfish enough not to care if I’m the best for him or not. I just want him, no matter what. He’s so selfless and humble that it’ll take a lot of convincing to get him to consider marrying me. I don’t know how I’m going to do it.” “I suspect that your brothers would be willing to coax and cajole and offer their assistance.” “Your opinion holds a lot of weight with him. Would you be willing to speak to him at some point, if it came up?” “It would be inappropriate for me to interfere in the private affairs of a member of the staff.” “You’ve been blessed by Ilanosa. You’re expected to interfere.” “If it seems suitable to speak on Ilanosa’s behalf, I will do so.” Remin’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to do my best not to draw any conclusions from your reluctance. Trying to guess at what Ilanosa might want or plan for me will only drive me wild. I’ll do what I think best, and trust that my chosen path will lead me to a bright future.” “If that’s your stance, then it won’t bother you to hear that your foolish ignorance and clumsy fumbling about have been a matter of aggravation and entertainment for weeks,” Xio Voe said, getting to his feet. “Please settle into a path that doesn’t make me wonder why I ever thought you to be a man of intelligence and common sense.”

Rising with majesty, Remin glared at him. “You and your gleefully chortling husband are welcome to take your mockery elsewhere.” Shooting a dark look at the ceiling, Remin snapped, “Shut up. I’ve supported you through two marriages, one of which was doomed from the start.” “Doomed?” Xio Voe repeated. “I’m sorry to have been acting like a fool,” Remin said. “Maybe if someone would give me some real information instead of dropping mysterious hints about the wonderful and secret destiny everyone but me knows about, I’d make smarter choices. Leaving me to flail about on my own while you all whisper among each other isn’t exactly helpful!” Then he knew. “You are privy to information forbidden to others as a regular occurrence in your life. You know well that some knowledge must be concealed until an appropriate time.” “I know that I can’t force it. I know that I’ll figure things out eventually. I just wish that I knew the right choices now, so that I can avoid fucking up and hurting Tano any more than I have to. I don’t want to ask Kudorin or beg you or try to get anyone to tell me what I’m not supposed to know. I don’t want special treatment just because I’m Kudorin’s brother. I’ll figure it out the way everyone else does, the way everyone I counsel has to. At least…” Sighing, Remin dragged his hand through his hair. “Most of me feels that way. The ethical, mature part of me. The impatient, frustrated, greedy part of me, if I thought that Extra knew, I’d get him to tell me.” It was convenient to be able to maintain an expression which gave away nothing.

Part 269 He was in love with Tano. Remin liked it. He was glad to be in love with Tano. It helped him to make sense of what he’d felt and experienced lately. His frustration, his resentment, his bafflement over what the gods wanted from him, he could let that all fade now. Tano was the one. Tano was his future. If Orinakin could stumble over the love of his life in the middle of nowhere and snatch him from Kudorin; if Kudorin could develop a relationship with a scornful, cold, frighteningly emotionless enemy; then Remin could build a marriage-ready relationship with Tano. He wanted to do something about it. To celebrate with Tano. To talk to his brothers. To thank the gods.

He cancelled his date, then sat through dinner joyfully devouring every bite. He was in love with a man who cooked for him. So delicious, so flavorful. He’d known that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tano, and now that he knew how he wanted to spend his life with Tano - - not just as a steady part of each other’s lives, but as spouses, sharing their lives together, responsible to each other, committed to facing challenges and celebrating joys together, having sex over and over and over again - - he couldn’t wait to get started. He was used to telling Kudorin everything. Used to Rini poking around in his personal affairs. With them out of town, he still wanted to confide in his brothers, to share his happiness, to tell them his plans, to hear their responses. He had trouble catching Anosanim’s eye at dinner, and as soon as the meal ended, Anosanim fled. Puzzled, Remin went to Anosanim’s apartment. Raising his hand to knock, he heard, “What are you doing?” Turning to see Desin, Remin found it strange for Desin to ask that. “I want to talk to Anosanim.” “He’s not there. He’s out. With Ritek. I mean, with Talin.” Desin was lying to him. Why would Desin lie to him? Immediately suspicious - Desin had no good reason to lie to him, but Desin seemed agitated, gaze twitching nervously towards the door, sentences short and hasty - - Remin opened Anosanim’s door, stepping in. “Remin,” Desin said abruptly, too loudly. “I’m trying to tell you, he’s not here. He went out to one of those poetry readings, or an art gallery, or something. He and Talin had plans to go out right after dinner.” As if he couldn’t hear Anosanim’s startled gasp. “It worries me,” Remin said, striding forward, “that such clumsy and obvious people run this country.” As he stepped into Anosanim’s bedroom, he heard a click. Sighing, he walked over and opened the door to Anosanim’s closet. Caught in mid-fan, Anosanim stared at him with wide, horrified eyes, then smiled weakly. “Remin.” “Did you decide to play hide and seek without inviting me?” Remin asked. “Or are you avoiding me, Inanodat?” Licking his lips, Anosanim stared helplessly over Remin’s shoulder. “Oh, you’re still here,” Desin said. “Sorry, I thought you’d already gone. I guess you don’t have time to change, now. Come on,” he reached past Remin and grabbed Anosanim’s wrist, “Talin’s probably waiting in the carriage.”

If it were Rini trying to avoid him, Remin would be more wary. Rini had been known to make some genuine missteps. But Anosanim? If Anosanim did anything wrong, or hurt anyone, it would be a mistake, an accident, something wellintentioned gone foul. “You don’t have to dodge me.” Keeping up as Desin tried to drag Anosanim through the apartment, Remin wrapped his arm around Anosanim’s waist. “Whatever’s bothering you, you can tell me. And I want to talk to you.” “Oh.” That one syllable sounded both exhilarated and distressed. Fanning himself, clutching at Desin but staring with wide, excited eyes at Remin, Anosanim asked, “It’s about Tano, isn’t it?” “You don’t want to keep Talin waiting,” Desin insisted. “You know what he’s like.” “I’m in love with him.” It felt so exciting, so celebratory. It felt so right, so inevitable. Remin couldn’t wait to delve into that love, to explore it, to share it with Tano. “I want to marry him. I-” “Oh! Oh, Remin!” Anosanim caught him up in a tight hug, bouncing slightly against him. “Oh, Remin, it’s so wonderful, it’s absolutely marvelous, I’m so happy for you! I’m so happy for Tano!” “I haven’t told him yet. I don’t know how to tell him in a way that he’d believe. He’s so sure that I’m going to marry someone else. And I don’t want to propose to him until I’m more confident that Ilanosa will bless us. It would break his heart if I convinced him to trust me and marry me, just to have Ilanosa refuse us. I don’t want to raise his hopes if I can’t promise him that it’ll happen. But there’s no guarantee. I know that, I just-” “This is great news,” Desin said. “This is terrific, isn’t it, Anosanim? It’s too bad that Anosanim has to go, but you don’t want to keep Talin waiting, right? You go ahead, Anosanim. Come on, we should go find Selorin or Orinakin or somebody so you can tell them, too.” “I’m so happy for you.” Anosanim still clung to him, so he hugged Anosanim back, ignoring Desin. “Oh, Remin, I’m so glad, this is such wonderful news, it’s such an exciting time.” “Yeah, but it must be hard,” Desin said. “Not being sure. Not wanting to tell Tano, since it might not last. You never know, with relationships. And the gods, like you said, there’s no guarantee.” What was going on? Remin twisted to look at Desin over one shoulder. Why was Desin so tense, so nervous? So desperate to keep him away from Anosanim? And why was Desin emphasizing that his relationship with Tano might not work out?

Kudorin knew. Xio Voe knew. So Anikira knew. Orinakin and Rini might know. Which meant that Selorin knew. And if everyone else knew, Anosanim would want to know. If Rini knew something, he’d tell Anosanim; if Anosanim wanted to know something, he’d get Rini to tell him. Everyone knew. Anosanim knew. Desin knew. Pushing Anosanim back, Remin stared into his eyes, heart pounding. Gasping, Anosanim blushed brightly, agitatedly and hurriedly looking away, trying to avoid Remin’s gaze. “You’re happy for me.” Remin’s heart beat wildly. He was gripping Anosanim’s shoulders too tightly. “You’re happy for Tano. ‘This is such wonderful news, it’s such an exciting time.’” Gods above, “Anoha Ilanosa. It’s true.” He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t wanted to ask, he hadn’t wanted to find out this way, but he’d needed to know, he’d had to be sure. Anosanim knew, Anosanim was sure. “It’s Tano. Tano’s the one, isn’t he? I’ve been waiting for him and resenting him and burning for him, and he was right there, already beside me, loving me.” Gods above, gods above, “It’s Tano.” He’d found the love of his life, he’d found his husband, and now he was going to faint, he was going to cry, he was going to scream with joy, but Anosanim was already clutching him, squeezing him, babbling in his ear. “Oh, Remin, I couldn’t tell you, I couldn’t say a word, I tried so hard not to say anything, but you’ve been so happy with Tano, and he loves you so much, and he cooks for you, and you’re so happy together, you’re so happy with him, we’ve been so excited to see you like this, it’s like we have you back again, and your wedding’s going to be so beautiful, it’s-” “Hanibulatin!” Desin shouted. “Oh, fuck, come on!” Wedding. His wedding. Their wedding. “He’s my husband.” Remin felt lightheaded. It was so good, too good to be true. “I’m going to get to keep him. For the rest of my life.” “Where have you been?!” Desin demanded. “Getting head.” Talin sighed. “This can’t be salvaged, can it?” “I have to tell him.” Remin couldn’t wait. To love Tano. To have sex with Tano. To marry Tano. To share his life with Tano. To be with Tano. “He’s not going to believe me, but I have to tell him.” “I’m so elated for your happiness,” Anosanim said, squeezing him. “I’m so happy for you, and for Tano, and for the wonderful life you’re going to share together. I

want to get to know him so much more, and we have to plan the wedding, and I want you to tell me everything, all about it, the-” “What is going on in here?” Selorin sounded wary. “Anosanim told Remin everything. Where have all of you been? You show up now, when it’s too late? Where were you when I was trying to drag Anosanim out of here?” Selorin didn’t sound at all regretful. “I was getting head.” Soon. Soon Remin would be able to say those words. Soon it would be a casual, everyday occurrence for him, too. Oh, what a wonderful life that would be. “I have to go propose to Tano.” The sooner he got that out of the way, the sooner he could put his dick in Tano’s mouth. That enthusiastic, welcoming mouth. Tano. Tano who cooked for him. Tano who defended him. Tano who made his life better and easier every day. Tano, sexy, honest, cheerful Tano. The man he loved. The man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Remin’s future had never looked brighter. Rini couldn’t believe it. “You let Anosanim tell him?!” “Remin’s in love.” Kudorin smiled, sitting up along the riverside, drawing his knees up to his bare chest. “He should be able to enjoy it and revel in it. I don’t want him to spend this joyous moment worrying about hurting Tano.” Frowning, Rini didn’t get it. “He was never going to hurt Tano. Ilanosa wasn’t going to turn them away.” “Ah, Inanodat. You know that there are many paths before us. Each moment can turn in an infinite number of ways. I want, when I can, to nudge my brothers towards better moments.” Rini had to admit, he was grateful for that. “I’m glad that you’re looking out for us. I guess you’re right, people are really good at messing up terrific moments and fucking up great opportunities. If there’s a way to mess up a good thing, we’ll find it.” “Not always.” Kudorin tugged him close, kissing his cheek, suffusing him with love. “Sometimes you take the best possible steps. You just don’t know it.” Alone in the kitchen, humming to himself, Tano stirred the frosting. Prince Remin would probably go out on a date tonight, so he’d have some time to himself for a little while. Then Prince Remin and the date would come back to the palace, and he’d probably get to give head again. Mmm, he couldn’t wait. A nice, hard dick in his mouth, Prince Remin’s voice in his ears, Prince Remin’s hands-

“Tano.” Startled, Tano turned, half-expecting a naked man to be waiting for him. But Prince Remin was alone, casually dressed, walking into the kitchen with that confident, majestic stride. “Prince Remin.” “I want to - - is that chocolate?” Drawing near, Prince Remin eyed the bowl, sniffing. “It’s, yes, it’s for the vanilla nut cake, I thought that you might like some after your date.” “I’m not going out tonight. Can I have it now?” From the way Prince Remin stared hungrily at the frosting, it occurred to Tano that he might’ve only said that just to get chocolate. But he was simply attired, and ordinarily if Prince Remin intended to go out for the night, he would’ve been dressed for it by now. “Sure, of course, let me finish, it’ll only take a moment.” As he walked over to the waiting cake, Prince Remin followed him closely. Finding the cake cool, he began to frost the first layer. A soft, delighted moan vibrated up from his throat as Prince Remin pressed in against him from behind, seductive hands sliding across his waist. “Take this off,” Prince Remin whispered, fingers plucking at his apron, lips brushing the back of his neck. This was how so many of his fantasies began, Tano groaned with excitement, his hands fumbling his apron off. He pulled his shirt off, too, giving Prince Remin free access to his naked torso, loving the feel of Prince Remin’s smooth, agile hands caressing his skin. “Mmm.” Prince Remin nuzzled his nape, sending delighted shivers racing up his spine. “I want to talk to you about my husband.” It was so funny, how ordinarily being this turned on would have distracted Tano from the conversation. But with Prince Remin, the sound of Prince Remin’s voice always caught his attention, no matter what else was going on. He’d never been so horny and preoccupied with lust, and simultaneously attentive to each word, with anyone else. He found it kind of difficult to keep his hands steady at the same time, though, so he slowed down, frosting the cake with as much care as he could spare. “Your husband?” He loved the subject - - it fascinated him to think that Prince Remin’s husband was somewhere out there, probably nearby, ready at any moment to enter Prince Remin’s life. He’d stopped bringing it up, since Prince Remin seemed annoyed whenever he did, but if Prince Remin wanted to discuss it now, Tano was eager to help. Prince Remin’s hands stroked up and down his chest in slow, obsessive rhythm. “What do you think that he’s like?”

He’d given it a lot of thought, so he had his answer ready. “First of all, he’s perfect. Handsome, but I don’t just mean that he’s good-looking, I mean that he’s fantastically handsome, like, he walks into a room and everyone else just falls over. Ripped, you know, with the kind of body you just have to stare at. He has a great smile, too, one of those bright, charming smiles that make you smile back at him.” “Hmm.” Prince Remin nuzzled into his hair, caressing his abs. “So that’s just the surface.” Trying not to groan, failing and uttering a long, vibrating, aching sound, Tano arched, wincing, leaning back against Prince Remin’s lean, firm body. He just needed to focus for a moment on the way Prince Remin was making his whole body pulse with need; he’d get back to the cake in a minute. “He’s also, ah, hunh,” oh, that felt good. What had he been talking about? “He’s also wealthy and sophisticated, so he’ll be smooth in the kinds of formal situations anyone you marry will end up in. He’s very well-read and well-cultured, so he’ll know all about history and art and politics. He’s probably a gourmet, so the two of you can go out to fancy little restaurants and enjoy eating together.” Prince Remin’s voice was soft, right by his ear. “He won’t cook for me?” “Of course he can. I’ll teach him everything I know. He probably has servants to do that kind of stuff for him, so he might not already know a lot, but maybe he’s already a good cook. I can teach him anything, and it’s not like he has to know how to make ten-course dinners, he just has to know how to make things you like. And I can cook anything for you, anyway, so he can focus on feeding it to you.” Prince Remin’s voice was even softer, now, as his nails tenderly raked across Tano’s pecs. “I want him to cook for me.” “Then he will.” It was that simple. “Anyone who marries you will be the kind of man who gives you anything you want. He’ll understand how important it is to you. I’ll teach him. I love teaching people things, and it’ll be fun to play around in the kitchen. Besides, I’d love to get to know him.” “What else is he like?” “Very religious.” Tano was absolutely sure of that. “He’d have to be, it wouldn’t make sense any other way. He must have a lot of faith in the gods. He probably prays a lot. I think that he’s a priest, although I’m not sure what kind of priest. If he’s not a priest, he might be a sex worker.” “A sex worker?” Prince Remin kissed his nape, soft lips brushing seductively across his skin while Prince Remin’s fingertips trailed over his abs. “Sure.” Whatever he’d been holding onto fell from his fingers and he moaned, one hand covering Prince Remin’s hand on his abs, his other hand gripping the edge of

the counter as his hips ground back against Prince Remin’s erection. What was he talking about? He wanted just to moan Prince Remin’s name, over and over again. “It has to be someone who can keep up with you, someone who wants it as badly as you do. It has to be someone sensible, someone who’s discreet enough not to embarrass you. But he has to need it like you need it and be ready for you whenever you want more. I don’t mean someone who goes along with it because you’re turned on and he’s trying to keep you happy, I mean someone who has the same need for it you do, all of the time. I don’t even know anyone like that, but if there is someone, he’s probably a sex worker.” Prince Remin’s moan of pleasure rolled through Tano’s brain as if it intended to destroy his every coherent thought and leave him with no idea other than the impulse to fuck. “You’re like that.” Tano’s heart raced at the idea of being compared to Prince Remin’s husband. Yes, he was like that; he always had been, and his constant exposure to Prince Remin only intensified his already clamorous sexual need. But still, “Then you’re not the only one, so there must be more guys like that out there.” “Mmm. What else is he like?” “I don’t know. The only other thing that I’m sure of is that he loves you. He’s going to be in love with you and respect you and do whatever he can to be a good husband to you. He understands how important you are and how special you are, and he’s going to cherish every second of his time with you.” Prince Remin’s hand slid up his chest, fingers stroking across the base of his neck. “Like you do.” “Yes. Like we all should.” He couldn’t take it; he had to turn around and face Prince Remin, to get what he needed. To kiss Prince Remin and cling to Prince Remin and hump against Prince Remin’s thigh until he came. He needed it, and he was sure that Prince Remin wanted it, and it would be so good, feel so good. With slow, seductive movements, Prince Remin ran his finger through the icing on the knife and licked his finger. Just as Tano’s eyes were glazing over at the sight of Prince Remin’s tongue playing over that fingertip, he gathered more and slid his finger into Tano’s mouth. Mmm, so sweet, and the sense of penetration felt so good. Tilting Tano’s head back, Prince Remin kissed him deeply, tongue swirling through his mouth until Tano was out of breath. “Come to my room.” Prince Remin’s fingers crept over his waistband. “Come to my bed.” This was his husband.

These were the long, hungry kisses he’d indulge in for the rest of his life. These were the deft, eager hands he’d feel roaming his body throughout his marriage. These were the excited, uninhibited moans he’d hear for years to come. It was so different from before, yet so much the same. He’d spent all of these weeks promising himself that he could have more later, that he could take more later, that this was only a hint of what he could enjoy. But now it was so very true. He really could make out with Tano tonight, and hold off on more, with confidence in knowing that he’d get to revel in all sorts of other sexual interactions with Tano someday soon. He could have just a taste tonight, and finish the rest later. It would still be there. It would all be available to him. He’d thought that Tano was a fun, exciting romp. That this was all just happy, sexual play. But this was his husband’s body. This was his husband rocking against him, gasping for more, gripping him as if there couldn’t ever be enough. It fascinated Remin, to think - - to know - - that he’d finally found his husband. That this man, Tano, was the one. That it was someone he’d wanted to be with all along. He kept feeling bright, new surges of hope rising in his chest. He couldn’t wait to seize his future. He felt joyous, exhilarated. He felt more eager than ever to embrace life, to get married, to celebrate. And he was relieved. He hadn’t been sure how to negotiate things between Tano and his husband, how to keep Tano, how to avoid strife and jealousy and hurt feelings. He wanted to share his excitement with Tano. To talk about love and plan their future together. He just hadn’t figured out the best way to bring it up that Tano would actually believe, short of dragging Tano before Kudorin. Tano would probably believe Xio Voe, but Remin wanted Tano to believe him, to understand and trust him. Naked and on his back under Tano on the bed, Remin was jacking himself off while Tano kissed his stomach, when he came. He hit climax hard, the explosion of it shocking his body, and he cried out at the sharp slam of pleasure as Tano’s pink tongue licked out to catch wet streaks of cum. Tugging Tano up and rolling them both over, he licked at Tano’s cheek, kissing Tano’s mouth, sucking cum from Tano’s chin. Groaning, Tano pushed a pillow back between their bodies, hugging him close, thighs rising around his hips. Someday, he’d set that pillow on fire. Someday, they wouldn’t need, wouldn’t have, wouldn’t allow any barriers between them. Tano was his, and he was Tano’s, and they would share the kind of uninhibited sex and uninhibited love that they wanted. He and Tano committed fully to everything that they did, threw

themselves into their work with passion. They’d bring that same openness and intensity to their marriage, and Remin couldn’t wait for it. He had to share his love with Tano. He had to propose. He just had to figure out how to get Tano to accept it. The satisfied, drowsy tones of Prince Remin’s voice were a sensual thrill. “He sounds a lot like you.” “Hmm?” Prince Remin’s apartment was an erotic wonderland of gold, shimmering like a fantasy in the dim candlelight. Curled up against him in that luxurious bed, Tano felt as if he’d been caught in a dream. “Who does?” “My husband. Handsome, sexy, respectful, religious, loving.” For a moment, Tano stared into those honey golden eyes sparkling with adoration, and melted. No matter what his head said, when Prince Remin talked this way it made his heart sing. But he needed to be realistic. Laughing, Tano dragged his fingers through the softness of Prince Remin’s hair. “Thank you for the compliment, but you forgot a few important things. Like wealthy, well-read, and sophisticated.” “You’re well-traveled. You’re in a very elite position in your field. You know the cultures of many countries.” “No, I know the food of many countries.” “Food is culture. You know that as well as I do, if not better.” Prince Remin sighed, fingering the waistband to Tano’s shorts. “I can’t think of anyone better suited to me than you are.” He couldn’t believe that Prince Remin would say something like that to him. That kind of flattery couldn’t be real, but he knew that Prince Remin was sincere. It would be too cruel to pay such a strong compliment as a joke. Love surging powerfully through him, sending his heart pounding in his chest, he pressed his lips to Prince Remin’s in a slow, lingering kiss. But he couldn’t let himself get wrapped up in this kind of moment; he couldn’t let himself get too used to perfection he’d never been meant to keep. So, shaking it off, he smiled. “I’m not nearly that great. If you’re impressed with me, imagine how amazing your husband’s going to be.” “What if you were my husband?” Prince Remin’s hand rose to his cheek, caressed his jaw, fingers slipping across his lips. The intimacy, the sensuality of Prince Remin’s touch only added to the sensation of being caught in a fantasy. But this was a fantasy; he didn’t really belong here, in Prince Remin’s bed. This was

temporary, fleeting as a dream; he’d be back in his own bed soon, as soon as Prince Remin’s husband came, as soon as he woke up. “What if there were no one else, and it were just you? Do you think that you’d want to be different?” He wanted to look away from Prince Remin’s enthralling gaze. It was dangerous to think about this. It was wrong to wish for things like that. If he thought about being Prince Remin’s husband, he wouldn’t want to think about anything else. He’d want what he couldn’t have. He’d resent Prince Remin’s husband, he’d grow jealous, he’d force Prince Remin to reject him instead of being mature and walking away on his own. It wasn’t fair to Prince Remin, and it wasn’t fair to Prince Remin’s husband, and it would only cause wounds too deep to repair. This was Prince Remin’s bed, Prince Remin’s husband’s bed. Not his bed. He didn’t really belong here, and he couldn’t start thinking that he did. But Prince Remin was looking into his eyes. Prince Remin had just asked him a question. He had to answer, somehow. “I guess it’s fun to speculate. But it doesn’t seem very respectful to imagine myself in that position. I mean, I already got this far, right? That should be good enough for anybody.” “What if I weren’t a child of the gods? What if I were an ordinary priest? Would you think about marrying me then?” This was silly. “You are a child of the gods.” Ow! Prince Remin twisted his nipple, then kissed him. “Stop being difficult and answer my questions.” Rubbing his nipple, Tano relented. It couldn’t hurt to talk about it. It was just a conversation. “If you were an ordinary priest, and you really thought that you wanted to marry me, of course I’d accept. It’s not like Ilanosa would let us make a mistake.” “That’s a fascinating part of being Anorian, don’t you think? That Ilanosa won’t let us marry the wrong people? The gods love us enough not to let us trap ourselves into failing marriages.” “Especially you. If most of us have, oh, I don’t know, about twenty different people we’re likely to marry, you probably have about two. Like, most Anorians probably will end up in a marriage that’s moderately happy to regularly cheerful, but the gods will probably arrange it so that your average marriage quality is much higher. Don’t you think? I mean, the gods would put things in your favor, wouldn’t they?” Prince Remin studied him, fingertips slipping tenderly along his cheek. Tano could’ve drowned in his own happiness. He was Prince Remin’s boyfriend, safely tucked in Prince Remin’s bed, sexually sated, being caressed. He didn’t care what

they were talking about; this period of his life was the highlight of his entire existence. “What does that mean, then, in practical terms? That I am guaranteed a rewarding marriage? That I cannot possibly marry the wrong person? Then if I propose to someone, if I were anyone else and I would create a moderately enjoyable marriage with him, by virtue of my position, our engagement would be rejected? That I will be permitted only to marry someone who will be relatively as right for me as our queen is for Anosukinom?” “That’s exactly what it means, I think. Moderately enjoyable isn’t good enough for you, and I’m sure that Ilanosa knows that as well as I do. I mean, it’s Ilanosa. You’re Prince Anoremin. The rest of us will be just fine with moderately happy marriages, but you deserve better, and I’m sure that Ilanosa will ensure that.” “You’re sure.” “Absolutely! Aren’t you?” “Would you be willing to see me test it?” Test it? “What do you mean?” “If I proposed to the wrong man - - not someone entirely wrong for me, but someone I get along with wonderfully, someone whose company I greatly enjoy - and he accepted, you wouldn’t mind, because it couldn’t possibly get past Ilanosa unless we were meant for each other.” “I don’t think that it’s a good idea to test the gods, and I know that you don’t think so, either. But, yeah, theoretically, if you tried to get engaged to one of your dates, it wouldn’t worry me. That’s why we have the engagement process we do, to keep people from making mistakes like that.” “Hmm.” Prince Remin’s hand rubbed meditatively over his thigh. “I suppose that, in my search for my husband, I could simply try to get married to every man I see, and wait for one of them to be accepted.” Tano chuckled. “That sounds like a terrible use of your time, but I guess it’s one way to do it.” Prince Remin’s kiss brushing lightly over his lips was a sweet surprise, an unexpected gift to be cherished. “Whatever happens between us, whoever I end up with, I want you to know how much this time we’ve shared together and the friendship we’ve built means a great deal to me. The soil waits, ignorant and impotent. The rain falls in its own time, as the gods bid it. I never expected you to come into my life, Tano. I didn’t know to expect you. I didn’t know what a difference you’d make. I didn’t even think that things could be any different. You’ve changed everything, you’ve changed me, and I’ll always be grateful to you.” Prince Remin’s finger touched his lips, as if to shush him, but he hadn’t intended to say a

thing. He was too caught up in Prince Remin’s words to think about interrupting. Then, gazing into his eyes, Prince Remin added, quietly, “I’ll always love you.” His brain probably wasn’t doing somersaults inside his head, but it sure felt like it. His whole body had jerked at the sound of Prince Remin uttering that sentence, as if his heart had kicked too hard in his chest. He tried to reply, because he had about thirty dozen responses to that, but Prince Remin frowned at him, pushing his lips shut. That wasn’t fair! How could he not say anything when Prince Remin spoke those particular words in that particular order to him?! Gods above, he didn’t even know what Prince Remin meant! Was this a priestly love? A friendly love? Prince Remin couldn’t genuinely be in love with him, that was pretty literally impossible. Wasn’t it? “I forbid you to speak,” Prince Remin said, kissing him. “Let me have my moment. Go to sleep.” Go to - - but what had he just said? What had he just meant?! He had to say it back! Even if Prince Remin hadn’t meant it that way - - even though Prince Remin couldn’t possibly have meant it that way - - he had to say it back! What kind of person would he be if he let Prince Remin say, “I’ll always love you,” and just shrugged in response? It was the love of a friend, it was the love of friendship, but it was still love. Prince Remin’s love. Prince Remin loved him. Even in this way. He couldn’t reply to Prince Remin. So he thanked the gods. “Shiefa, shiefa.” Grunting, Xio Voe rolled over, opening his eyes. The room was still dark. The warm body in his bed was a bela, not Anosukinom. But he’d heard Anosukinom’s voice. “Jarouje?” Sitting up, he stifled a yawn, absently rubbing Ula’s ass with one hand. “Remin just told Tano that he loves him.” Progress. Xio Voe approved. “The news was well-received?” “Tano prayed to thank the gods for it. Then, when Remin was asleep, he whispered it in Remin’s ear and cried a little. He’s so happy and so grateful and so excited. I miss you so much.” “As you are capable of being with me at any moment you please, I conclude that you prefer missing me to the alternative. Or, you do not miss me as much as you claim.”

“I do miss you! But you’re right, I do like missing you. It pulls at my heart. Anikira says that I’m acting petulant and melancholy. She keeps laughing at me. Maybe I should’ve found a more sympathetic wife.” “You’re finally spending time with her, and you’re moping around missing me. If laughing at you is her worst response, she’s being more understanding than most other people would be in her position.” There was a moment of silence. Then, “You don’t have to make me sound like an ass.” “Did you choose to behave like an ass? The characterization may be accurate.” “I don’t think that you’re supposed to call me an ass. You’re supposed to worship and adore me. That’s why I married you.” “I find it possible to adore you and offer criticism simultaneously. If you prefer unrelenting flattery without a moment of contradiction, perhaps I was the wrong choice for your king. There are a few sycophants I could recommend as a replacement.” “I think that, now that we’re married, I’m stuck with you.” “Unfortunate for you. Consider examining your decisions more closely in the future.” “Well, now that we’re stuck with each other, I suppose that we should make the most of it. Can I watch you fuck Ula?” “You already dragged me from slumber for idle conversation. Now you wish for me to waken Ula for your voyeuristic gratification?” “Yes. Yes, I do. Fuck him from behind, I love watching his ass shake.” Waking early, Remin spent a moment watching Tano sleep. This was what it was like to be in love. He’d talked about it, read about it, advised other people on the subject, but he’d never experienced it himself. Not romantic love. Not this exhilarated, passionate, rush of emotion every time he looked at someone, thought of someone. Every time his mind thought, Tano, his entire being felt a new spark of life. Handsome enough to stun at first sight? Perfect and ripped with a charming smile? Tano couldn’t have described himself better if he’d been staring into a mirror. Remin’s gaze wandered Tano with happy, possessive desire. Mouth-watering, to say the least. That gorgeous face. That sexy body.

With a quiet groan, Tano rolled over, settling on his stomach, hitching his hips a little to rub his hard-on against the mattress. Oh, yes. Cursing under his breath, Remin curled one hand into a fist, clenching his muscles tightly to keep himself under control. If he moved, he’d pounce on Tano. If he relaxed his hand, he’d grab that sexy, round ass. If he let himself, he’d bite through those shorts and start licking whatever skin he could bare. He had to get away from this bed. Away from Tano. He was so close, so close to getting everything right; he’d finally paid enough attention to notice that he was in love with his husband. Marriage had to be close at hand, with the bliss of sex right behind. He couldn’t fuck up now. He’d get to have Tano as much as he wanted, soon; he just had to get there. Stifling a howl of outrage, Remin squeezed his eyes shut and rolled away, off the edge of the bed. He’d jack off in the shower. Maybe that would help. A little. Smooth, knowing hands slipped across his body, stroking his skin. Soft, seductive kisses whispered up his neck. A deliciously provocative voice murmured in his ear. “Tano.” “I love you,” he mumbled. Somehow that seemed like the most important information to communicate. Opening his eyes, he saw a soft fall of gold shimmering across his vision. Prince Remin’s hair. Lifting his face, he nuzzled into it, kissing his way to Prince Remin’s neck, breathing in that delicious scent of incense. Prince Remin’s fingers tugged at his waistband, fingering the first button on his fly. Feeling Prince Remin’s touch so near to his dick made him moan, trying not to thrust up or push into it. “Get dressed.” Prince Remin kissed him, fingers pulling and twitching, making him groan with need and frustration. “I’m going out of town, and I want you to come with me.” What? It was suddenly easier to think now, because Prince Remin was crawling off of him and leaving the bed. He recognized the tension in Prince Remin’s body and the unsteady way Prince Remin breathed and the way Prince Remin wasn’t looking anywhere near him, so he got up quickly, moving away from the bed and away from Prince Remin. He stepped behind a convenient chair so his erection wouldn’t be so obvious, and tried to clear his mind. “You’re leaving town?” “I need to speak with Anosukinom. I’ve informed King Xio Voe that I’m taking you with me. Lo Ariside will prepare his meals in your absence. Get dressed and pack

a few things, in case we don’t make it back to the palace tonight. I need to stop by my office before we go.” “I’ll always love you.” The memory of it returned to him with sudden clarity. The gold of Prince Remin’s eyes, the honesty in Prince Remin’s quiet words, the touch of Prince Remin’s finger at his lips. He had Prince Remin’s love. It was a love of friendship, not of romance, but that was better, wasn’t it? Prince Remin’s friendship, he could keep forever. Prince Remin hadn’t wanted him to reply in the moment, but he didn’t need to say anything to show his love. It was only right for him to demonstrate his love for Prince Remin in everything that he did. If Prince Remin ever knew a moment of doubt about how Tano felt, Tano was doing something terribly wrong. Go out of town? With Prince Remin? His sense of duty had halted him, but if Prince Remin had already tended to his obligations, then yes. Yes. Of course. “Yes, Your Highness. I’ll get ready immediately. I’ll be ready whenever you’d like to go, Your Highness.” It was nice to eat breakfast in the courtyard, watching the sunlight play across Orinakin’s jewels and listening to Anosanim chatter about Remin’s love life. Bade missed some of the conversation, though, because his thoughts kept returning to the palace’s guests. He liked being helpful and making himself useful. Now that Anikira was away from the palace, and now that he’d gotten some more diplomatic experience from his travels with Orinakin, Bade considered himself a good host to Anosukinom and Orinakin’s guests. He didn’t mind listening to rambling, self-indulgent monologues, he liked meeting new people and hearing new information, and he’d become better and better at handling difficult questions. He was well-positioned enough that people weren’t insulted to be passed off to him, but he was a foreigner, just a husband, so people didn’t expect the same hard answers and political savvy and authoritative replies they would from, say, Orinakin. He was, he hoped, good at the job. Decent at it, anyway. But he’d started this work under Anikira. Once she’d left the palace, he’d at least been able to offer very reassuring answers about Anosukinom. But now Anosukinom was away, and Bade’s choices as gatekeeper were to dump people on Orinakin - - knowing how overburdened Orinakin’s time already was - - or to send people to Xio Voe. Sending people to Xio Voe when Anosukinom was around felt different from sending people to just Xio Voe.

A lot of people were nervous around Xio Voe. Or defensive. Or hostile. A lot of Anorian allies had bad history with Jacacea. As a hostess, Anikira had always been deft at smoothing things over and putting people at their ease. Xio Voe was, frankly, terrible at that. He was very good at making people feel uncomfortable and unwelcome, but not the reverse. Xio Voe could, of course, answer people’s questions and address people’s concerns and negotiate a dozen diplomatic or political issues per minute. But Bade had always been taught that a good host made people feel comfortable. He couldn’t in good conscience deliberately give guests a bad experience. He thought that Xio Voe was terrific. But Xio Voe had always been friendly to him - in Xio Voe’s own way, of course. If Rini were home, Rini was always a good host, but Rini didn’t know anything about politics and would give people uninformed, frivolous answers. If only the other Siblings weren’t always so busy. Or if only Xio Voe didn’t stare at people as if they were insects. “Speaking of marriage.” Orinakin smiled at Anosanim. “With all of this flutter about Remin, have you given any thought to your own wedding?” “Well.” Anosanim’s eyes sparkled. “I have given a little thought to my future, yes. But, oh, as much as I would absolutely love to get married, there are two little, well, not so little things in my way.” With a graceful flick of his fork, he speared a starshaped piece of melon. “One is, of course, Talin. I could never make a commitment like that, considering the way things are. I really do want to wait until Talin’s settled into his own marriage. So that I can be sure that he’s taken care of.” Orinakin tucked a strand of purple hair behind one ear. “I don’t think that he’d want you to put things off for him.” “No, of course he wouldn’t. But I just, oh, I just couldn’t. Not after…” Anosanim shuddered prettily, looking away. At least Anosanim didn’t tear up every time someone made reference to Hitari, anymore. That had to be a sign of progress. “What’s the other thing holding you back?” Orinakin’s voice was quiet, conversational without being too bright, subtly gentle without sounding pitying. It was smart of him to move things forward without letting Anosanim dwell on Hitari. Bade always felt awkward whenever the subject came up, but Orinakin knew how to nudge people past a bad moment. Anosanim sighed, gesturing to the empty air around him with a delicate flutter of perfectly manicured fingers. “You see how Ritek’s out of the country again. I just

can’t - - it’s fine for a boyfriend, I don’t mind it at all, but it’s different, with a husband. My standards for a husband are much higher than my standards for a boyfriend, although I do suppose that’s true for most people. You know how I am, I expect to be within Talin’s earshot every hour of the day. I simply can’t have a husband who’s away like this. So, when Ritek’s business settles down, and he’s not being called out of the country so often, we’ll talk about,” Anosanim smiled, a dainty blush warming his cheeks, “making some plans for our future.” “Then Ritek’s the one?” In retrospect, maybe Bade shouldn’t have blurted it out that way. But he hadn’t been sure if Ritek was the grand love of Anosanim’s life or not. “Oh, Bade.” Anosanim’s laugh rippled through the air like the notes from a harp. “Of course he is. It’s absolutely splendid, isn’t it? To find someone you want to share your life with? Ritek would make a wonderful husband.” “He would.” He was loving, generous, and attentive. He and Anosanim were together all of the time, they spent hours talking about fabrics and designs, and they were, from everything that Bade had heard or seen, a superb sexual match. It didn’t seem quite fair that they would hold back on their relationship for Talin’s sake, especially since Bade agreed with Orinakin that Talin probably wouldn’t want that, but the issue of Ritek’s responsibilities taking him away did sound like a problem. Particularly for Anosanim, who probably expected to be as involved in his husband’s life as he did in Talin’s. If Anosanim wanted to wait to get married until after Talin’s love life was settled, he’d have to wait a long time. Talin didn’t seem to want or expect to have any kind of romance anymore. And it was weird, to have Remin dating several men a week while keeping a steady boyfriend on the side, when Talin wasn’t dating at all. This had been a terrible idea. His best idea yet. A horrible idea. He’d decided to start trying to convince Tano to marry him now. Tano was so stubborn, it might take a lot of work to get him to agree to an engagement, so beginning the process early was probably wise. After their conversation in bed last night, taking Tano to Kudorin seemed like a good move. The opportunity for an excursion with Tano had been a large part of the idea’s appeal. Getting away from his responsibilities, spending time alone with Tano, he could never get enough of that. Just the two of them, crossing Orina Anoris. It had sounded perfect.

He should’ve gotten an open carriage. In an open carriage, with anyone they passed able to see them, with the driver so near, Remin would have to behave himself. But he didn’t want to behave himself, he wanted to be alone with Tano, wanted to be able to do whatever he pleased, tucked away in the privacy of the carriage. That meant, though, that he was alone with Tano, his handsome, sexy Tano, for hours, all day. Just what he’d wanted. But unless he screamed and caused a scene and frightened the driver, or threw himself from a moving carriage, he was trapped with Tano, unable to get away, unable to escape. Even when they were alone in his bed together at night, if his self-control began to slip, he could flee the bed or lock himself in the bathroom if he needed to. Here, he had his favorite temptation in the world, and nowhere to go. Tano, of course, looked absolutely fucking delicious. He was right beside Remin, and he kept smiling cheerfully like he was having the time of his life, and he was wearing the skimpiest pink shorts in the world. He’d been wearing a pink-and-white vest, but as they’d left the city he’d taken it off, so now he sat beside Remin, barechested, his luscious nipples hard and tempting. Those strong, naked arms. Those hard, bare thighs. That muscular, firm torso. That happy, guileless smile. What was he supposed to do with this breathing sexual fantasy sitting right beside him? What could anyone expect from him, really? Tano, being Tano, was talking nonstop. About the scenery, about the town they were passing through. Then Tano started to talk about what he might try to teach Remin’s husband to cook. He started describing the details of a good cake, uncommon uses for honey, the different ways Remin and Xio Voe ate chocolate, and so on. Tano loved to talk and loved to share information, but the sound of his familiar voice, his rambling and enthusiasm, his nearness, the subjects, everything was starting to make Remin hungry. Really hungry. For more than just food. Groaning, Remin rubbed his face with both hands, trying to clear his brain. Tano, used to his sexual distress, just kept talking but casually shifted a little away from him on the seat, putting a couple more inches between them. That was a good start, but it wasn’t nearly enough. If Remin could have Tano, he’d ask the driver to stop at the nearest inatunin - - hotel - - anything - - or he’d ask the driver to pull off into the nearest clump of bushes and take a walk - - but he couldn’t, he just had to sit there beside Tano and suffer. In his earlier days, he would’ve gone for it and asked the driver to join in. Right now, he - - wait. Why couldn’t he go for it? He couldn’t have penetrative sex, but he could at least make out and feel Tano’s hands on his body.

He’d have to control himself, but he wanted Tano so badly that he was willing to pretend that he could control himself. Besides, Tano wouldn’t let him go too far. The moment he started to pull his shirt off, Tano stopped speaking. Then, with a moan of eagerness and desire, Tano reached for him as he moved. Shifting on the seat, kneeling astride Tano’s lap, Remin tucked his shirt between their groins, tossing his hair and grinning at Tano, rubbing his hands over Tano’s shoulders. Oh, yes. “Now, this is how I want to spend my day,” Remin murmured, kissing Tano, taking Tano’s mouth in deep, hungry kisses. With a groan, Tano kissed him back, Tano’s hands stealing over his thighs. “I know. It’s how I’d like to spend every day.” When flowers started sprouting up underfoot, Rini knew something was going on. While the kids squealed with delight, Rini looked upward, waiting. There it came, a soft rainfall of flower petals, scattering in bright color across the grass. He’d been hearing unseen harps and flutes and bells all day. He’d seen doves flying around and shoes changing color and butterflies flitting around all morning. Kudorin was definitely in a good mood. “Oh, mmm, ooohhh, unh…” Groaning, Tano was too turned on to know how else to express it, so he tried to pour his lust into his kisses, new thrills flashing through him at every flick of Prince Remin’s tongue. His hands were on Prince Remin’s pert, firm ass, and he just couldn’t stop squeezing and rubbing. It only made things so much worse and so, so much better that Prince Remin’s hips kept pushing back, ass rocking against his palms as if asking for more. Prince Remin’s hands were as beautifully manipulative and seductively enthralling as the rest of him. As his fingers wandered Tano’s body, flirting and stroking, Tano found himself gasping and twitching at every caress, his body jerking and shaking under Prince Remin’s spell. He loved the way Prince Remin’s hands explored his body, flirted with his nipples, brushed through his hair, tugged at his shorts. Prince Remin clearly wanted Tano’s shorts to come off, and the way he kept moaning and grinding and plucking at the waistband told Tano that if the flimsy barriers between them weren’t there, the two of them would be tumbled across the seat, coupling with deep, feverish ecstasy. Tano wanted that so fiercely. He couldn’t have that, but he could have this, and he treasured every instant of it. The glorious, sensual silk of Prince Remin’s skin. The

lean, masculine lines of Prince Remin’s body. The scent and feel and sound of Prince Remin, all so exciting and unique and richly sexual. He’d never been with someone who wanted him so badly, so often. Even at his wildest and horniest, he’d never wanted someone so badly, so often. It was astounding, it was fantastic, to have a relationship like this. Even though certain acts were still off-limits, this was the most rewarding his sex life had ever been. He’d never known one person who could keep up with him this well. Not just keep up with him, but satisfy him, outdo him, fulfill him and then give him more. He had stopped looking for someone who matched him sexually, but he’d found a lot of unexpected new inspiration in Prince Remin. “Oh, ah, Tano.” Groaning, Prince Remin licked his ear, nibbling at his jaw with those perfect, white teeth, sending a flurry of tingles shooting down his neck. “Unh, I need to fuck you, Tano, I need you.” Rocking against him in a steady rhythm that only made him want to give in and let it happen, Prince Remin moaned, jerking at the fly to his shorts. “I want it, I want you, oh.” Gods above, he couldn’t let Prince Remin get anywhere near his naked dick. Not while they were both this turned on. Hugging Prince Remin even closer against him, he tipped to one side and rolled to the floor, dragging Prince Remin down with him. Hoping that the distraction would work, he pinned Prince Remin’s wrists to the floor, kissing Prince Remin’s neck and grinding against the shirt between their hips as if it were the answer to his every problem. Gasping, Prince Remin bucked against him, knees rising, thighs gripping his waist. “Ah, ah! Oh!” Prince Remin’s wrists twisted in his grip, thighs tightening to squeeze his waist. “Oh, Tano! Ah!” So close, closer, closer, loving it, intoxicated with the rush of it, Tano kissed Prince Remin’s mouth, the friction of their bodies burning through him. With an explosive cry, Prince Remin shuddered, coming, and the sound of it, the feel of Prince Remin twisting ecstatically against him, shot Tano over the edge. With a shattered groan, he drove his hips hard against Prince Remin, climax bursting through him in an exhilarating frenzy. Losing himself in the pleasure popping across his body and soaking his brain, he could only whimper in his happiness as Prince Remin purred and stretched beneath him in comfortable satisfaction. Belatedly, he released Prince Remin’s wrists. Kissing him lazily, Prince Remin combed tender fingers through his hair. “Mmm.” Prince Remin sounded so content, Tano’s eyes opened just to see his dreamy expression. “Tano.” Prince Remin’s smile dazzled him in its happiness and beauty. “Tell me more about making chocolate walnut cookies.”

Part 270 Tano wished that he’d had time to pack food for Prince Remin. Scolding himself, he decided to plan ahead, next time, to throw together snacks if not meals. But would there be a next time? Determinedly ignoring the stab of pain that question brought, Tano enjoyed the carriage ride, the conversation, and Prince Remin’s company as they progressed through farmland. As they passed a series of more homes closer together, he asked if they were near a town. With the smallest glance through the window, Prince Remin seemed to know exactly where they were, naming the village they approached and what lay around it. “You must know every corner of this country.” Tano had always thought of Anosukinom as intimately connected to the land, but Prince Remin had thousands of years of memories of the countryside, its geography, and its history. “I do. And I am grateful for it. If I ask someone where he’s from, and he names a distant village or a certain local landmark, and I don’t know what he refers to, he’ll think that I’m out of touch with his life experience, that I don’t know what goes on in his region of the country, that I don’t understand him or haven’t taken the time to try. If citizens feel that their leaders are ignorant or uncaring, they become frustrated and hopeless. Resentful. It’s important for us to stay informed and be connected to all Anorian lives, not just those geographically convenient.” Tano loved the care Prince Remin had for his people. The thoughtfulness Prince Remin put into his work. Tano had gotten the impression, abroad, that some holy people focused only on their gods, to the dismissal of all else. Prince Remin led Anorian priests in serving both the gods and the people. Since Prince Remin was seated cozily on his lap, he hugged Prince Remin tightly in love and admiration. “Then do you know if there’s anywhere nearby we can stop to eat?” He hesitated, but went ahead and asked, “Or anyone who wouldn’t mind letting me take over a kitchen for a few minutes?” Prince Remin stared at him, eyes slowly widening in delight. “I have you with me. You can cook for me anywhere we go, anywhere we find ingredients.” Cupping his face in both hands, Prince Remin kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him again. “Tano, Tano, Tano.” Prince Remin’s happiness made him smile, and Prince Remin kissed him once more. “You will accompany me everywhere I go, for the rest of my life.” His lips tingling from Prince Remin’s kiss, his eyes fascinated by Prince Remin’s happy expression, Tano just smiled at Prince Remin, foolishly. “Okay.”

As the carriage passed through the small village, people trailed after it, bowing, waving, cheering, calling out prayers and blessings. When Remin alighted, people clustered around to greet him, to hear what he might say. Smiling, Remin offered blessings. Ordinarily in a crowd, even a small one, he grew tense and wary, on the lookout for young men, cautious about interacting with them. Today, he reached out, touching people, hugging them indiscriminately, feeling carefree, just happy to be among Anosukinom’s people. After he’d spent some time talking with everyone, he decided to try to find somewhere to eat. He could just wander off and let his memory and the gods guide him, or he could ask the people gathered around. Tano had been just a step behind him, but was now standing off to the side in deep conversation with a young woman. Tano’s ass looked fantastic. He’d put his vest back on, which was probably a good thing. The entire village didn’t need to see how red and swollen his nipples were from Remin’s play. “I’m on my way to see Anosukinom,” Remin explained. “He and Prince Rini have joined the queen on her journey.” That announcement prompted a new round of conversation. Remin knew that he could brush everyone off and go to eat, but he knew how important this moment was to these people, so he lingered, listening attentively, passing out blessings and advice. Returning to his side, Tano put a hand on his back. Loving the press of Tano’s hand against his body, Remin took a small step back, moving closer, trying not to rub himself against Tano’s palm but wanting more. Leaning close, Tano whispered, “Your Highness, when you’re ready, I’ll have a meal prepared for you in Lo Erakom’s home. Buni Erakom will escort you there.” What? Remin was surprised, but of course. It was Tano. Of course Tano would see to his comfort. Of course Tano would take care of him. Of course Tano would take the initiative and make sure that he was fed. Wanting to hug him, wanting to kiss him, Remin gave him a look, a look of gratitude and fondness and adoration. “Thank you, Tano. I’ll be right there.” Tano blushed at the affection and said, “Yes, Your Highness.” While Tano left, two people cleared their throats and a third asked, “Prince Anoremin, is that the chef? Your…chef?”

Remin grinned. “News flows as quickly as the great river and travels as far as the wind. Yes, that is my personal chef, and King Voe’s personal chef, Naritano Pitok. He was born in Lonoset and came of age in Urisidebar.” Someone else asked, “Does he have a boyfriend?” A clever way to ask. “Yes, he does. I’m his boyfriend, at the moment.” Remin smiled at their curiosity-filled expressions. “He loves to cook for people, but we didn’t bring any ingredients with us. Lo Erakom has been kind enough to offer her home to us. Shall we go and watch Chef Pitok at his work? He would be happy to answer your questions and share what he knows of cooking, or to make something for you if you ask.” Buni’s entire home was smaller than the palace kitchens, but she had marvelous fresh ingredients. Tano plucked a few things from her garden, then washed his hands and began to start. He was peeling a potato and mentally assessing what he had available to him when people walked in and started crowding around him, introducing themselves and peppering him with questions. He heard the smooth tones of Prince Remin’s voice amid some chatter outside. Prince Remin must have led everyone over to Buni’s house, then. Tano tried to attach names to individuals - - Nanin was the old woman, Teki was the young woman, Nanoleh was the man, Bumaret was the little girl - - as he explained that yes, he was Prince Remin’s chef and King Xio Voe’s chef and Prince Remin’s boyfriend. Nanin wanted to know more about his work and his life in the palace, Nanoleh wanted to know more about Jacacea and Ilaeia and King Xio Voe, Bumaret wanted to know more about Tano’s relationship with Prince Remin, and Teki wanted to learn more about cooking. While doing his best to answer questions, Tano put Teki to work. If all of these people were going to hang around, he might as well feed them, too, so he gave Nanin some coins and asked her to pay someone outside to fetch more ingredients for him. Pushing the coins back into his palm, she went to the door and conferred with someone. When she returned, she was full of smug smiles. Ten minutes later, Tano met Nanin’s son, the local butcher. Naret was a good butcher, and Tano would’ve been happy to let the man do his work. But as soon as Naret found out that Tano knew how to butcher, too, he asked to watch Tano do it. There was a challenge in his eyes and curiosity in his tone; he probably wanted to know how well his own work stacked up against that of the king’s personal chef. So, after examining the basket full of fresh ingredients

Naret had brought and making sure that Teki was comfortable with the tasks he’d given her in the kitchen, Tano went next door, his audience trailing behind, and butchered a pig. That. Should not. Have been sexy. But Tano was so good at what he did. So knowledgeable and professional. So incredibly skilled. Such clean, efficient movements. Such precise knife-work. Remin loved watching him. Happy for the chance to share what he knew, Tano explained his moves as he went, rambling cheerfully about his methods, how he’d learned them, and moments when they’d gone terribly wrong. He was, in effect, teaching Naret, but in a way that made it seem as if he were simply talking to the group at large. It was a great way to educate the local butcher without embarrassing the man. So helpful. So considerate. So like Tano. When the butchering ended, Tano led a group back to the kitchen while Remin talked with everyone outside. Remin held babies and discussed crops and told old stories. He answered questions about Xio Voe and questions about Akanoti and questions about Anosukinom. He talked about Desin and Orinakin and his pharaoh mother and Oranomi. He asked about recent weddings and plans for upcoming festivals. He was glad for the moment, for the opportunity to speak with Anosukinom’s people, for the chance to share in their lives. He was also glad when Teki began to bring out the food. There was a new dish every few minutes. Everyone gathered around, clustering on the grass. There was plenty of food for everyone, and Remin tried to go slowly, keeping in mind that this meal came from human generosity, that the more he ate the less there was for the others, who’d worked so hard on their crops and animals. Tano had made simple, traditional dishes, Anorian dishes, the kind Remin knew he’d grown up with. But since this food had passed through Tano’s hands, it was so much more delicious than it had any right to be. And he’d changed things a little, added cheese here, added bacon there, swapped a few vegetables. Traditional foods were suddenly biscuits instead of pies, sandwiches instead of stews. Meatier, creamier, mouth-wateringly good. Some people stopped talking entirely, moaning and savoring the meal. Other people chatted excitedly about the food, discussing the changes Tano had made, trying to figure out why everything was so delicious. It was a merry, friendly lunch. When it ended and everyone finished up the last of the cherry pie, Remin drew everyone together for a final prayer. Standing there,

well-fed, warm from Akanoti’s love, on an Anorian farm, among Anosukinom’s people, Remin felt happy and content. This was a moment to remember. A life to savor. He was proud of Tano. Glad that Tano had shared this day with him. This was a gift Tano had given to him. This lunch. This day. This sense of peace and contentment. He wasn’t tense or aloof or shying away from anyone. He felt relaxed and ready for more. He should’ve always been this at ease with himself, at ease with other people. He would be, from now on. He was embarking on a new stage of his life, and he wanted to share that life with Tano. After he made sure that the house was clean, after he slipped money into Buni’s sugar tin and Nanin’s granddaughter’s hands, Tano said good-bye to everyone. He promised to send some recipes to Teki, and promised to show her around the palace kitchens next time she visited Orikodisata. Several people hugged him, and a few offered their well-wishes and advice on his relationship with Prince Remin. Getting back into the carriage, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He’d helped Prince Remin. Given all of those people a tasty, filling meal. Taught what he knew about butchering and cooking. What a fun day. What a great afternoon. Since coming back to Orina Anoris, he’d spent a lot of time in the capital city and not much time in the countryside. Being in a small village like this reminded him of his childhood, of the lifestyle he’d grown up with. That good, hearty food. “They didn’t mind that I put apples in the juice, did they? I know that it’s not traditional, but I always wanted to try it.” Prince Remin chuckled. “Did you notice that we drank all of it? It was delicious. The kids couldn’t get enough.” Since Prince Remin had scooted up against him, he snuck an arm around Prince Remin’s waist. “I’m sorry that it took so long. I know that you didn’t plan for such a lengthy stop. Did I completely destroy your schedule?” “I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on any of it.” “They’re so friendly. Teki shows real promise as a chef. She’s so creative.” “I talked to her mother and her sisters. She was with a man, her boyfriend, for the past seven years. Last month he left her and moved to Nekusurin with her best friend. Her family was so glad to see how happy she was today, how much energy she had cooking with you. We talked about encouraging her to get some more culinary training.” Surprised by the news, Tano admitted, “I had no idea! She seemed so cheerful. She was even happy while we washed everything up after lunch. No one ever enjoys that part.”

“Thank you for coming with me today.” Prince Remin’s eyes were such a pure, shining gold that Tano found all coins dull in comparison, and the look of fondness in those golden eyes melted Tano’s heart. “You brightened up more than just Teki’s life today. I want to take you everywhere I go. I’m always so proud of you, I feel as if I’m showing you off.” “You can take me anywhere. Anywhere you want. And you never have to thank me.” Just being near Prince Remin was more than thanks enough. Or even not being with Prince Remin, just being wherever Prince Remin wanted him to be. If that spot happened to be far away from Prince Remin, he’d rather be away but still doing Prince Remin’s bidding than be nearby but not doing what Prince Remin wanted. “I just ate, so I shouldn’t even ask.” Prince Remin prodded the basket on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “What’s in there?” Tano grinned. “Something for later.” “Is that one of Nanin’s baskets?” “Yes. She does great work, doesn’t she? She’s so frustrating, though. She and Naret and Buni didn’t want me to pay them for anything. I just wanted to compensate them! I mean, all of that food, that pig, I used up so much cheese and flour and sugar and milk and butter, and the spices, and the herbs, and - - and then the basket! I couldn’t have taken advantage of their generosity any more if I’d just started pocketing things. But they kept refusing my money. So I snuck it in anyway when they weren’t looking.” With a happy chuckle, Prince Remin said, “Of course you did. You paid people for letting you cook for them. That sounds just like you.” Oh. He hadn’t looked at it that way. “I just didn’t want to storm into town and eat up all of their bread and sweep back out again. You know, without thanking them and trying to replace everything I used. I know why they didn’t want my money, I mean, my grandmother never would’ve accepted it either. If Prince Remin stops by for a meal, you’re going to give him whatever you have and not think twice. Oh, speaking of that, I talked to Prince Talin about getting a pay cut, but he said no.” “Pay cut?” Prince Remin’s frown was puzzled for a moment before he gave Tano an exasperated look. “Do I misunderstand, or are you actually asking to make less money?” “I’m overpaid. It’s great that there’s so much money in the treasury that you can pay me this well, and I appreciate the king’s generosity, but I don’t want all of it. Prince Talin said no, and told me that King Xio Voe would say no, too, so I thought that maybe you’d understand. I thought about just donating some of my salary, or

buying things for the clinics, but if I just get a pay cut, then those funds will go to whatever the government decides is best, and you know way more about where money is needed than I do.” Sighing, Prince Remin closed his eyes. Tano admired those silky, long lashes. Like rays of sunlight against Prince Remin’s cheek. “Tano.” Prince Remin opened his eyes. “Would you be happiest if we just stopped paying you altogether?” “I thought about that! I’m not sure what to do about clothes, though. Or my family, if I get married.” Oh, clothes, right. Unbuttoning his vest, he shrugged out of it, then put his arm around Prince Remin again. “If you were anyone else, I might consider this a problem of self-worth, that you feel personally undeserving of high pay. But your motivation is one of generosity, isn’t it? You can’t stand not sharing everything you can with everyone else.” “That, well, yeah, I mean, that’s one way to describe it. I never thought about it that way, but, yeah. I like to share things. Like food. And knowledge.” “And sex.” Grinning, Tano laughed. “And sex, yeah.” The evening came quickly. Remin was tucked away from the world, alone with Tano, rolling across Orina Anoris as the sun withdrew for the night. He was so content, he wished that he could capture this time and return to it whenever he wanted, just to experience this happiness and peace again. He hadn’t realized how heavily his responsibilities weighed on him. He loved his work. He’d never shied away from duties which seemed difficult or timeconsuming. He accepted the burdens of his position. But in his role, everything he did, everything he saw, every moment, related to his work. The government, the country, his brothers, the gods, the people, they were inescapable. He couldn’t leave the courthouse and leave his concerns behind. He couldn’t take a night off from foreigners and correspondence to relax. Every aspect of his life was related in some way to his role, to the responsibilities of his work. A brief conversation with Anosukinom could linger on his mind for days as he considered and reconsidered each word, each gesture, each potential message. Here, with Tano, on the move, he could exist in a private bubble. Even if it were only for tonight, he could enjoy a moment of solitude, of relaxation. Of course, he did pause to thank the gods for that.

Curled up cozily with Tano on the seat, he talked, and nibbled his way through the contents of the basket, and enjoyed lazy, clinging kisses while Tano’s hands coaxed him closer. He wanted more - - he wanted so much more - - and quick, needy fires surged hotly within him. But he’d have Tano soon, he’d get what he needed soon, and he fought with himself, held himself back, promised himself that it wouldn’t be much longer. Remin could’ve slept there in the carriage with Tano, enjoying some nice rest with his head on Tano’s shoulder. But the carriage driver had to get some sleep, too. They’d taken up so much time over lunch that they couldn’t make it to Kudorin that night. When they finally reached the town of Ekasuhe, long after moon crossing, Remin knew that it wouldn’t be fair to push the driver or horses any farther. He also knew that Ekasuhe didn’t have an inn, so he’d have to take advantage of someone’s kindness. As Remin requested, the driver stopped in front of the village’s temple. Stepping down, Remin greeted the two priests rushing out to meet him. “Praise the gods, it is good to see you alert and attentive at this hour.” It was strongly recommended for two priests to be available at any temple at any hour, preferably both a man and a woman. Sometimes only one priest could be found so late at night in such a quiet little village, but no one was ever to step into a temple and find it empty. As one high priest had informed his subordinates, “If someone speaks in a temple, and only the gods are there to answer, trust that you will be hearing from me.” “Your Highness!” “Anoha Anosukinom, Prince Anoremin.” “We didn’t know to expect you, Your Highness.” While the two of them bowed eagerly, Remin smiled, drawing Tano down to stand at his side. “I must ask for your assistance. I travel south to meet with Anosukinom as he visits the queen, but our eyes are as weary as the moons are bright.” With some excitement, looking flustered, the two priests quickly conferred. Nodding at Remin with a smile, bowing again, the woman said, “We will do whatever we can for you, Your Highness. You would be most comfortable here in the temple. There is only one room for your privacy, Prince Remin, but there is space in Lo Ketako’s home for the others.” Turning to the driver, Remin briefly squeezed the man’s hand. “Thank you, Lo Remase, for bringing us safely here. We will continue on tomorrow when you are refreshed. Sleep well in the security of the gods’ love.” Smiling at the priest, he said, “Lo Abapuma, this is Chef Pitok, my boyfriend. Please show him to where I will sleep tonight, as I take a moment for reflection.”

While one priest took Tano into the temple, and the other priest addressed the driver, footman, and horse, Remin walked slowly into the temple, breathing deeply. It was an old temple, a small one, with the altars and signs of several gods. The thick stone walls were shrouded in shadows, the room lit only by torches in two corners. Closing his eyes, Remin felt Matanori very nearby. He wasn’t often away from home anymore. It was very unusual for him to be here. Not in the palace, not at Satatunin, not with Kudorin. Ah, but Kudorin was with him always. And he was within Orina Anoris, so he was at home. He wondered what his brothers were doing. Sleeping, talking, cavorting with belas? He wondered what Tano and Lo Abapuma were talking about. He wondered who had come to his office, seeking his presence, that day. He would be with Kudorin soon. Back in the palace shortly thereafter. This was a night for shedding his robes and simply being an Anorian. As flames appeared on candles flanking Matanori’s altar, Remin sat on the cool, stone floor to pray. He couldn’t remember, later, the thoughts passing through his mind. He only knew, as his eyes opened again, that he felt very much at peace. Rubbing his cold hands together, wondering how much time had passed, he realized that he smelled something delicious. He couldn’t leave Tano alone for a second. And he loved that. Suddenly alight, a candle met his hand halfway, and he let the gods guide his feet, let those mouthwatering aromas guide his nose, as he turned down a short hallway. The kitchen he passed was empty, the fire banked. From the room at the end of the hall, light beckoned, and he found Tano there, alone. It was a small room, comfortable but crowded, appealingly humble. On the floor, tucked snugly between the bed and the wardrobe, wearing only those pink shorts, Tano was doing sit-ups. Sitting on the foot of the bed was a covered tray. “You’ve been cooking again.” Looking up with a smile, Tano rubbed his hand over his bare chest. “I thought that you might want something to eat before you went to sleep.” Was it actually possible that the gods had sent Tano to make his life better? To make his days easier? Stepping closer, Remin sank down into Tano’s lap, sitting back against Tano’s raised thighs. “The crops grow well, strong and healthy, their roots in the rich soil as Akanoti smiles upon them. Such vibrant, promising plants. And then the rain comes, and the crops thrive as never before.” Grinning at him happily, hands splayed across Remin’s thighs, Tano admitted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think that I know what you mean. I mean, like my own life kind of went that way. I was happy and I was back in Orina

Anoris and I got to bake every day and things were going so well. And then I came to the palace and it was just, it was amazing, every day things just get better and better. Like, I came back to Orina Anoris, so that’s the dirt. And I came to the palace and I met King Xio Voe and that’s the water. And then I met you, and you were the sun, so bright and golden and full of life.” Running his hands across Tano’s shoulders, Remin just looked at him for a moment, contemplating this human being named Naritano. “You never cease to out-do yourself. I was, actually, talking about you, yes, but in the opposite way. I meant to describe you coming into my life, not the reverse.” “Oh.” Tano looked perplexed. “I think that you’re giving me too much credit. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because you just gave me a terrific compliment, and I really appreciate it, but I haven’t done enough for you to warrant that. I try to be encouraging and helpful, but you’re the one doing all of the work.” “You’ve done far more for me than I’ve done for you. Especially considering the fact that much of what I do for you, I do for everyone.” “What have I done for you? I cook for you as part of my job. Having as much sex with you as I can is probably just good, common sense. Being your friend, your boyfriend? Right, as if I could ever say no to that.” Interesting. “Now I see why Anosukinom becomes so frustrated with me. I have a tendency to do what you’re doing, to explain away my every contribution in the most dismissive terms possible, to wave away all of my efforts and accomplishments as if I’m only doing the bare minimum to get by. I understand, now, why that’s incredibly irritating. Stop downplaying your efforts and admit that you’ve had a significant impact on my life.” “But I-” So stubborn. He wasn’t going to get Tano to agree, and he didn’t want to listen to Tano explain further, so he kissed Tano, taking a lengthy, detailed tour of Tano’s mouth. When he’d finished, Tano just moaned and sank back, pulling him down, too, for more. They got off together, and then he fed Prince Remin, enjoying Prince Remin’s sensual delight over each bite. Crawling into bed together, they indulged in some slow, needy kisses, and things quickly escalated. The slide of Prince Remin’s fingers between his lips, the way they thrust into his mouth, mimicked the push of an erection so much that Tano sucked greedily, moaning, wanting more. He was used to being in the palace, being in the erotic wonderland of Prince Remin’s quarters. This quiet, anonymous, very Anorian room, with its simple

wooden furniture and Matanori’s symbol painted on the wall, made Tano wonder what it would be like, really, to live this kind of life. To be with Prince Remin as just two ordinary citizens in an everyday relationship. And for a moment, his heart raced at the possibility. But Prince Remin could never be ordinary. And he wouldn’t be the person Tano loved so much, if he weren’t Prince Remin. Parts of him would still be the same, exciting and wonderful parts of him, but not all of him. Tano didn’t love aspects of Prince Remin, he was in love with the entirety of the man. “Mmm, ah, I love you.” That achingly sensual whisper, low and breathy and richly passionate, had not come from Tano. He’d never sounded that sexy in his life. He’d never sounded one-tenth that sexy while deliberately trying to sound sexy. Those words couldn’t have come from anyone but Prince Remin. But Prince Remin could only be speaking to him. There was no one else in the room. Well, the gods, maybe, and of course Prince Remin loved the gods, but surely Prince Remin didn’t speak to them in a way that sounded like, “I’m so incredibly into you, I want to be with you forever,” and also like, “mmm, yeah, fuck me, ooohhh, do it.” The “fuck me” part definitely made sense. The “I’m really into you” part seemed appropriate, since Prince Remin really did seem to like him. And had, last night, claimed to love him. But the specific words, in that voice, in this context, directed at him? Of all people, surely Prince Remin didn’t confuse sex with love. Someone who’d had so very much sex yet so few relationships clearly understood that sex and love, or sexual activity and romantic affection, were very different things. What was he supposed to say in return? “No, thank you?” “I don’t believe you for a second, but wow, that sounded great?” “You don’t know how much I wish that were true?” Maybe he just didn’t understand how love worked. Maybe he was clinging to his own ideas. Why would love only mean “strong and abiding friendship” or “familial bonding” or “passionate romantic connections” and nothing else? Why couldn’t Prince Remin appreciate him as a friend and also want to have sex with him and also enjoy his company and therefore love him in some unique way? Prince Remin was capable of having a husband and loving Tano and probably creating loving relationships with other men, too. “I love you” didn’t mean, “I will love you and only you forever.” Romantic love could be very generous and flexible.

He wouldn’t reject Prince Remin’s love. He also wouldn’t assume that it implied things Prince Remin hadn’t said. He would just accept it, as the gift that it was, and treasure it, and quietly sit in awe of it. He would embrace it. He would, above everything else, return it. So, as Prince Remin rolled them over and undulated against him and gripped his thighs, Tano said, “I love you, too.” It didn’t sound as exciting when he said it; he didn’t have Prince Remin’s beautifully manipulative voice. But he meant it as much as anyone ever could have, so that had to count for something. Biting into an apple while Norisa searched the grass for rabbits, Desin watched Kudorin raise the sun. He couldn’t believe that Remin wasn’t back yet. Obviously Remin couldn’t have gone down, met with Kudorin, and come back all in one day just using a carriage, but Desin had expected Kudorin to help out and speed things up a little. Remin never took time off. He was completely committed to his role. He lived for it. Running off with his boyfriend on a moment’s notice was - - well, Desin approved, but it wasn’t at all like Remin. It was something that could be construed as irresponsible, and Remin hated it when he thought that people might mischaracterize his actions negatively. Traveling alone with Tano? If Remin came back with his chastity intact, it would only be because of Kudorin’s intervention. Puttering around the kitchen, Tano hummed to himself. It was a small kitchen, quaint and old-fashioned, with none of the new little gadgets he was used to having on hand. He felt as if he were back in his grandmother’s kitchen, experimenting. It felt so nice, to be in a little, private kitchen, cooking for someone he loved. It brought an intimacy to the act. It was almost as if he and Prince Remin were a real couple, a regular couple, as if this were their home, as if“Mmm, that smells delicious.” At the sound of Remin’s voice, he turned, smiling. Remin lounged in the doorway, one shoulder against the doorjamb, golden hair tousled. Remin’s long, silk dressing gown hung open, as if he’d been too sleepy to finish tying it shut, leaving his beautiful, naked body on display. Grinning, Tano admired the view. “You look delicious.”

Drawing near, Remin stepped in behind him, peering over his shoulder, leaning into him and embracing him from behind. “Ooohhh. Are those hurgrerres and cream tarts, or am I still dreaming?” “I thought that I’d get some practice in before Bade got home. I’ve been experimenting a little.” Turning slightly, he held up a tart, watching with careful attention as Remin bit into it. Remin’s lashes fluttered with pleasure, Remin moaned in desire, and then Remin moaned again, nails catching on Tano’s bare shoulder. Smiling, pleased, Tano watched Remin chew and swallow. He’d hit the right balance of flavors, then. “Mmm.” His eyes opening, Remin licked his lips. “More.” Loving everything about this moment, enchanted by Remin’s beauty, Tano blinked-and found himself looking at Lo Abapuma’s kindly face. Why had he blinked? Why had he blinked?! But no, no, that hadn’t been real. It couldn’t have been real. It had felt so real, so authentic, it had felt like a moment from his life, but reality didn’t just shift around like that. And his life was nothing like that. Well, no, it was a lot like that, actually, but there had been something different, something else going on. And since when did he refer to Prince Orinakin’s husband as simply “Bade?” It must have been a vision. From the gods. He’d heard of them; he’d known other people who had them. Not everyone believed everyone else’s story, but everyone knew that it did happen, that once in a while the gods granted people a glimpse into the future, or the past, or some possibility. He didn’t know what he’d just seen. A bit of what life might be like? “Chef Pitok?” Blinking at Lo Abapuma, wishing that she’d vanish and be replaced by Prince Remin, Tano finally accepted that he wasn’t going to get that moment back. The vision was gone. But it had seemed so real. “I’m sorry, Lo Abapuma, I was lost in thought.” “I said that it smells delicious. Do you need anything? I hope that Prince Anoremin slept well.” Tano fumbled through conversation with her. But his mind lingered on Prince Remin. On that vision. On the question of which version of reality that had been, and how close he might already be to it.

“Prince Remin.” A light touch at his shoulder. “Prince Remin.” Waking, Remin stretched, then rolled over, catching at Tano’s hand and tugging. With a smile, Tano sank down to sit beside him on the bed, and Remin snuggled closer to Tano’s thigh, eyeing the tray balanced on Tano’s other hand. The tray wasn’t as fine as the ones Tano brought to him in the palace, but he knew that the food would be. They ate in quiet happiness, talking a little about the food, a little about their trip, a little about the people they’d met yesterday. When they’d finished eating, they messed around on the bed for a while, then got up and got ready for the day. It was really nice to share the morning with Tano. Usually Tano had to run off to make Xio Voe’s breakfast, so Remin didn’t get to spend much time with him. Today, as they got dressed, they talked and bumped into each other and took turns. It was a very ordinary way to start the day, very domestic. “Does it feel any different for you? Sleeping in a temple?” “Hmm?” Remin latched his traveling case. “Slightly, yes. I feel very close to Matanori in particular, here. I slept very soundly.” Wondering, he watched as Tano buttoned up on the other side of the bed. Tano wore green that day, a dark green shorts-and-vest set with bright green underpants. “Was it a different experience for you?” “I had a vision, I think. Or I’m just hallucinating, but I didn’t eat anything I shouldn’t have. You must know more about visions than I do. What are they for? What do they mean? Why would I have one?” “Why do we have one sun but two moons?” Remin asked. “We can only guess. When did you get this vision? What did you see? Did you hear anything?” Visions could be easily interpreted, sometimes. They could also be easily misinterpreted. There was a good deal of argument over how many people authentically had godgiven visions, and how many people simply made them up, but they were actually very rare. The vast majority of people completed their lives without ever receiving one. Remin had them an unusual number of times, but he was in an unusual position. “I had it this morning. While I made breakfast, in the kitchen. The vision was, I don’t know, in it you came into the kitchen to see what I was making. Like you’d just gotten up. I was making Nosupolin food, and I said something about Prince Bade coming home, but I talked about him without his title.” Tano wouldn’t drop Bade’s title unless he were pushed into it and felt he had some legitimate reason. He probably wouldn’t drop any of their titles until he and Remin were married. “Is that all that happened? Did I say anything?”

Tano frowned. “You said, ‘That smells delicious.’ You had on a dressing gown, I think that it was silk, it came down below your knees. You said, ‘Are those hurgrerres and cream tarts, or am I still dreaming?’ I told you that I was experimenting before Prince Bade got home. I fed you a cream tart, and you took a bite, and you liked it, and I was glad, I was happy that you liked it and that I’d gotten the flavors right. And you asked for more. And then it was gone.” It sounded like a simple enough moment. Maybe a glimpse of what might be. “Were we here? In the kitchen here?” After staring at him in silence, as if trying to see the vision again in his face, Tano suddenly blinked. “No, no, we weren’t. It was a different kitchen. I thought that it was the same one, but it was somewhere else. It wasn’t here, it was more modern, much more expensive, but it wasn’t in the palace, either, it was much smaller. Like a personal kitchen. Like we were in my apartment, but that wasn’t my apartment, either.” A space of their own, then. Away from all of the trappings and complications of their roles. A private place where Tano could have Remin all to himself. “How did the vision make you feel?” “I loved it,” Tano admitted. “I loved everything about it. I mean, it was you and me, and you were almost naked and hugging me and eating out of my hand, so that’s pretty much the best part of my day, right there.” Hugging? “That does sound pleasant. And very similar to most of our interactions. The main difference, then, would be the unknown setting. And your apparent familiarity with Prince Bade. Did you address me directly?” “No, it never really came up.” A world without titles? A world where the two of them were equals? A world without the barriers Tano currently perceived to be separating them. A glimpse of their future, maybe; it sounded like a peek into their marriage. The gods were trying to nudge Tano along. Remin couldn’t really fault Tano for not recognizing a vision of their married life when he hadn’t recognized Tano as his husband for so long. “Why do you think that the gods would want to show you that scene?” “I don’t know. I don’t know why they’d choose me, or why it would be that interaction. It didn’t seem like a warning, it was just us. And it felt so natural, it felt so right, I loved it. I mean, I always love being with you, and I love seeing you so relaxed and happy, and you - - it was so normal, like it was such an everyday thing, like you took it for granted that I’d be there. Like you were used to waking up and finding me there. It felt so good to be such an ordinary part of your life like that.”

“You are. You already are, now.” Smiling at him, Remin added, “Most people don’t want to be taken for granted.” “I don’t want to be taken for granted by just anyone,” Tano argued. Then he grinned. “Mostly just by you.” While Prince Remin spoke with the local priests, Tano packed up some snacks for the trip, setting aside some for the driver and footman. He left behind some coins, and a list of which ingredients he’d used the last of, and a couple of recipes he thought Lo Abapuma might like, from their conversation last night. It wasn’t very generous of him, but he hoped for another long carriage ride that day. He loved this trip, this time alone with Prince Remin. He didn’t want it to end. Selorin smiled at Xio Voe across the breakfast table. “Your eyebrow just twitched. If you were anyone else, you’d be scowling. What’s wrong?” “It displeases me that whenever one particular chef is unavailable, the quality of my meals drops.” “You could order Tano never to leave the palace again,” Selorin suggested. “Or you could learn to be less demanding.” Xio Voe looked at his plate as if daring it to defy him. “He will train more chefs in his methods.” “Hasn’t he tried? I’m sure that he’s told Lo Ariside what all of the steps are. He’s not the kind of chef who tries to protect his secrets to keep an advantage.” “I expect there to be at least two people within the palace who are able to provide me with a satisfactory meal in Chef Naritano Pitok’s absence. He will train the servants until that expectation is met.” Xio Voe seemed to love setting new goals. The problem was that the people he set them for didn’t always appreciate it. “In the meantime, you could ask Talin to cook for you.” “Talin could cook for me. And personally design my new apparel, and sew it all, and mend holes. I could personally educate people and tend to cuts. You could settle petty disputes and Orinakin could mediate local squabbles while Desin trims all of the hedges himself. Yet I believe that our time is better spent elsewhere. If we accept all of the assignments of tasks we’re skilled at, our hours will be burdened by menial labor. I may be the best on hand for many tasks, but I refuse to attend to them all. There is time for prioritization and delegation.”

Selorin grinned. “Is there a task you aren’t, or couldn’t be, the best at?” “One I consider of any importance?” Xio Voe asked. “No.” Now that Tano had brought the subject up, Remin was curious. As the carriage rolled along, he asked, “If you were going to design your own kitchen - - not a functional public workspace, but a private one, in your own home - - what would you put there?” His face lighting up, Tano immediately launched into a lengthy and detailed description. The idea obviously appealed to him, and he came up with a long list of features and gadgets he wanted to include. “Why haven’t you done any of this in your own kitchen?” Remin asked. “The one in your apartment doesn’t look anything like that.” “Oh.” Tano looked taken aback. “I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t had the time for it.” “You’re passionate about cooking, and you have your own kitchen right there in your apartment. Use it,” Remin urged. “But all of the ingredients and everything are right there in the kitchen, I mean, the big kitchen, where I work. Everything’s already there. I’m already there. And I’m never in my apartment anymore, I’m always in yours. I hardly spend any time there.” Remin had to ask, “What’s not right about that apartment? You still haven’t settled into it. It always looks as if you’ve just moved in. The only personal touches are still the paintings. It looks as if you just got there, or as if you’re about to leave.” His mouth continued on, but his brain circled over the words, about to leave, about to leave. “Are you not comfortable there? Do you not feel at home?” Tano’s home was the palace, but not that apartment. Tano’s home was in Remin’s quarters. That apartment was only a temporary resting place. But Tano couldn’t possibly know that. Could he? “I don’t know, maybe it’s - - I mean, it’s a great place, it’s just a little too great. It’s so nice, it’s kind of too nice for me. When I first showed up to move in, they put me in this cozy little apartment, and I thought it was great. Then they put me in that big, fancy place, and it felt like a mistake. Like I didn’t really belong in there. I don’t know why, it’s not like I’d rather live in an alleyway than a nice apartment, I just don’t know what to do with all of those rooms. I think that I feel more at home in the kitchen.”

“Aside from the kitchen, or the temples, is there a place in the palace where you do like to be?” “Wherever you are,” Tano said immediately. Then he hesitated, blushing faintly. “I guess that’s not a fair answer, though. But, I don’t know, it’s true. I love your apartment. Not just because it’s yours, and not just because of the things I get to do when I’m there. It feels like I’m in some exotic wonderland of sex. Some erotic pleasure palace. Oh, and your office. Your office is amazing. I love just thinking about it. It’s fascinating, everywhere I look, every corner, like a crowded treasure room full of mysteries and religious artifacts and knowledge of the gods. Like I’m peeking into some luxurious treasure chest the first Anosukinom left behind. I love it. And so much gold, everywhere.” One of the nice things about loving Tano was that Remin didn’t have to fret over whether or not Tano returned his affection. Tano wasn’t just in love with him; Tano genuinely enjoyed everything about him. Anything relating to him. Even things which other people who spent a lot of time with him came to find annoying. “You do remember that I’m pompous and exacting and tend to find ways to chastise and martyr myself, don’t you?” Tano looked surprised. “Of course.” “And that doesn’t bother you?” “Well, I do wish that you’d burden yourself less. You already bear so much responsibility, I don’t like seeing you pick up more. But I love how pompous and exacting you are. You’re a very important man with an entire nation full of people counting on you and an entire world full of people watching. You can’t afford to be carefree about mistakes.” He kept trying to pick up more burdens, but people kept snatching them away from him. Especially Tano. Stubborn, loyal Tano, who wouldn’t let him berate himself, who always noticed what he was doing and argued him out of it. Tano was at his most impossible when Remin was trying to blame himself for anything going badly. Tano hated watching Remin be hard on himself. “If you understand why I’m exacting, then you understand why I hold myself to such a high standard. I expect a lot from the people I work with, and I expect even more from myself. I’m the example other people look to. It’s important for me to model the behavior I want other leaders and other Anorians to adopt. Constantly dodging the blame when something goes badly is a terrible example and makes for a terrible ruler.” “I’ve never seen you dodge blame. I have seen you act as if one ordinary mistake was as awful and unforgivable as stealing the last coin from a poor, struggling family. You don’t hold yourself to a high standard, you hold yourself to an impossible standard, and then get angry with yourself for not meeting it.”

It frustrated Remin that other people didn’t agree with what seemed to be such an obvious point. “If I become forgiving and understanding of my own mistakes, I’ll become lax and accept more and more of them.” “Acceptance and forgiveness are good things. Empathy for other people’s human foibles is a good thing, too, isn’t it? Aren’t those the sorts of traits you say that Anosukinom encourages?” “Do we expect the same behavior from the stallion as from the colts?” “So you should be held to a higher standard because you’re different from everyone else.” “Essentially, yes.” “Well.” Tano grinned. “We can agree that you’re arrogant.” Prince Remin was intoxicating. Enchanting. Spending so much time with him in such close proximity, without other distractions, held Tano spellbound. He felt as if he’d never be able to shake this fascination, as if he’d always have this slow thumping in his chest. Was that his heartbeat? It felt as if his love for Prince Remin were throbbing, creating a rhythmic pounding, as if his heart were trying to work its way out of his body to be with Prince Remin. His heart did belong to Prince Remin. By now, all of him did. His eyes didn’t want to look at anything else. His hands craved the taut smoothness of Prince Remin’s skin. His body was happiest pressed snugly to Prince Remin. His dick, well, his dick was as rowdy and disobedient and excitable as ever, and found Prince Remin to be the most thrilling thing in the world. As always, he found himself opening up completely to Prince Remin, his soul blooming with trust. He openly stared at Prince Remin, he confided, he fed Prince Remin snacks. When he tried to keep his hands to himself, Prince Remin grew restless and started to initiate more and more contact, but when he touched and caressed Prince Remin, Prince Remin seemed more satisfied for longer. Hungry for physical interaction, Prince Remin sought it out when denied it, which led to boundary-pushing behavior, but if Tano stroked and petted him, he didn’t grow as agitated. If they’d been able to sate themselves however they liked, Tano wouldn’t have tried to slow Prince Remin down. But since Prince Remin kept feeling his thighs and tugging at his shorts, he considered it in Prince Remin’s best interest for him to prolong the periods between rounds of sexual activity.

This way, they spent a lot of their trip touching, hugging, in each other’s lap, petting and fondling. Tano’s fingers were as fascinated by Prince Remin as the rest of him was, and he loved touching Prince Remin, the softness of Prince Remin’s hair, the fine cloth of Prince Remin’s clothes, the delicious silk of Prince Remin’s skin. He cherished every moment of this trip. He’d hold it in his heart forever.

Part 271 Remin had plotted his destination according to Anikira’s itinerary. But as they neared the town, he knew that Anosukinom wasn’t there. Understanding came to him - - Anosukinom was southwest of there - - and he directed the driver onward. Tano’s thumb rubbed over his hipbone. “Do you always know where Anosukinom is?” “No. Not all of the time. Prince Rini and I are usually able to locate him more easily than anyone else, though.” Remin wondered if Kudorin would be irritating about things and toy with him, or be happy for him and help him to rush towards marriage. “What kind of wedding would you like?” “Me?” Tano seemed surprised. “I don’t know, I never really thought about it. The same kind of wedding everyone else has, I guess.” “Were you planning for in a temple or outside? A lot of guests or only a few? A party afterwards, or a dinner?” “I didn’t really have a lot of people to invite, until recently. But now, I guess if a bunch of the other servants come, I might end up with a pretty decent crowd. It’d be nice to do something afterwards. A party would be good. It depends on what the guy I get married to wants to do.” Tano gazed at him trustingly. “Would you come?” “To your wedding?” Remin asked, grinning. “Yes, Tano, I’ll be at your wedding.” Taking off her hat as she came into the room, Anikira shook out her hair. “What a great show! I would’ve loved putting on a pageant like that when I was a kid!” Sprawled across the floor, Kudorin rolled over to look at her. “Remin thinks that I toy with people. You don’t think that I toy with people, do you?” “Yes, all of the time.” Slipping out of her skirt, she reached into a trunk for a pair of shorts. “But you don’t find me irritating, do you?”

“I see why Remin might find you exceptionally irritating, yes.” Laughing, Kudorin leaned over and kissed her bare thigh. “But you still love me, right?” Flashing him a smile, she combed her fingers through his hair. “Oh, endlessly.” As Kudorin set the sun, Remin gazed out of the carriage window, watching the horizon. Tano’s arms around his waist, Tano’s chest against his back, he relaxed into the quiet of the moment, thinking of love, of Kudorin, of his future with Tano. Moon crossing was near as they arrived in Kenika. The village was still, and Remin stepped out of the carriage to find no one waiting. Stretching his legs, he sent the carriage on to the temple. With Tano carrying their things, Remin strolled along past widely spaced homes. “It’s awfully quiet.” Tano’s voice was hushed. “Shouldn’t there be people around? I can’t believe no one noticed you arrive.” “They’re not paying any attention to me because something much greater than I am already has all of their attention. What is a pebble to a man already atop a mountain?” Remin saw a cat slip hurriedly around a corner, and turned his feet in that direction. A moment later, Remin saw light. Firelight. The entire village sat in a circle around a fire, Kudorin in a cluster of children, Anikira seated with a couple of female priests, Rini at the feet of an old woman. Suddenly, Kudorin looked up with a brilliant smile. “Inanodat!” In seconds, Remin was surrounded. While Rini hugged Tano and introduced him to everyone nearby, Kudorin embraced Remin, filling him with love. Anikira hugged Remin, too, and introduced him to the priests, and invited him to the fire. He chatted with her, talking with the priests, getting to know the locals, and the entire time Kudorin stayed close to him, hugging him, distracting everyone by kissing his cheek and stroking his hair and whispering to him in dead languages. The purity of Kudorin’s love cleansed and invigorated him. His heart light with hope, he basked in Kudorin’s presence, extending Kudorin’s love to everyone he spoke with. A few of the locals drew out instruments as if they’d just been waiting for an excuse, and some people began to dance. Remin and Anikira settled into lengthy conversation with some priests and older Anorians, while children laughed and chased each other in the firelight.

He didn’t know where Rini had taken Tano. A quick pang of jealousy made him wonder if they’d gone off to pick up guys. But Tano wouldn’t do that without at least asking if he wanted to watch. Rini watched Tano spread sheets and fluff pillows. “Are you sure about this?” “Oh, yes. Thank you, I don’t mean to keep you, you must be ready to get back to Anosukinom.” “You can come with me,” Rini pointed out. “You’re not - - okay, I know that you’re a servant, but you don’t have to be a servant here. Making Remin’s bed isn’t even your job.” “I just want to make sure that he’s comfortable. It’ll only take a second.” Rini hesitated. “I feel like I should order you to stop, but then that would be telling you what to do, and the point is that you’re off-duty and should do whatever you want.” “I am doing what I want.” Tano’s smile was cheerful. “Lo Banok. Good evening.” Oh! Rini looked over one shoulder to see Banok in the doorway. “Chef Pitok, good evening.” Banok paused to smirk at Rini with a sexy mischievousness that made Rini’s blood sizzle. “Prince Rini, your friends are asking for you.” Oh, right! He’d promised to host a little private party after moon crossing. “I’ll be right there! If you can grab some oil for me, please, I’ll be out in a second.” Where was Tano? Rini was still missing, too, and a group of young adults had just left. What-oh, mmm. What was that scent? It smelled like cinnamon and apples and, mmm, wait, he smelled ham, sweet“Oh, what’s this?” Anikira asked as a woman walked up with a tray. “I’m not sure what they’re called, Your Majesty. One of them has an Ilaiean name.” “It all looks delicious.” Anikira took a bowl from the tray. “Thank you, Isera. Anosukinom, would you care for a taste?” Again! Did Tano ever stop? Exasperated, Remin got to his feet. “My apologies, please excuse me. I’ll be back in a moment.” “…and then all you have to do,” Tano explained, scooping out more batter, “is toss in some simple flavoring like peppers. Now, most people use garlic to - - oh!”

Smiling, he watched Prince Remin stride into the house. “Prince Remin.” He bowed with the other two people in the room. “Lo Anemo, Lo Bupamel, good evening.” Prince Remin smiled at them, then met Tano’s eyes. “Chef Pitok, I just need a moment of your time.” “Oh, of course. I’ll just - - here, if you could finish pouring these into the molds for me, I’ll be right back,” Tano said, handing his batter over to Lo Anemo. “Thank you, the potatoes should be finished in another minute or so.” Untying his apron, he walked outside with Prince Remin. They stepped around the back of the house, near the chickens in the dark. “Your Highness?” “Tano.” Prince Remin’s hands gripped his vest. That would’ve gotten him to pay more attention if he weren’t already raptly attentive. “You don’t have to spend every spare moment of the day cooking.” “But I want to.” “We just got out of the carriage. We’ve been on the road for two days. Just sit down and relax. Enjoy some conversation. Hit on someone and get laid. Why are you in there cooking?” “You haven’t had enough to eat today, and I know that you’re hungry. With Anosukinom here, people aren’t going to bed any time soon, and the people I spoke with haven’t eaten in hours.” “If I want to eat, I can ask for something. If they’re hungry, they can arrange for their own food. You don’t have to do this.” “But I want to. This is what I’d rather be doing. Cooking. Preparing food. Feeding everyone. Anosukinom’s here! They’re having a party, and this is how I celebrate.” “If you didn’t work for me, what would you be doing?” “I’d still be in the kitchen cooking, I’d just be really excited and nervous about cooking for Prince Remin. I mean, I’m always excited about cooking for you, that’s always true, but I’m not nervous anymore. And Lo Anemo, she’s so interested in cooking, she keeps asking me new questions. She’s not very experienced in baking, so we’re talking about that, but she’s great with meat. I thought that - what?” Laughing, Prince Remin hugged him. “All right, all right. The fish swim, the birds fly, and Naritano cooks.” Prince Remin’s seductive mouth brushed soft kisses over his cheeks. “I’ll leave you to your fun, then.” He was still dazed from the sweetness of Prince Remin’s kiss when he heard, “Are there any ingredients I can get for you?” “I think that I’ll have an easier time getting them than you will, Inanodat.”

Whoa. Staring past Prince Remin’s shoulder, Tano watched Anosukinom shimmer faintly in the moonlight. He didn’t know how people got used to being around Anosukinom, because it was something Tano could never take for granted. “Your Majesty.” He knelt, making the sign to the gods. “Mmm.” Prince Remin’s fingers feathered through his hair. “He’s down there for me, not you, Anoremin.” Anosukinom brushed Prince Remin aside, crouching down in front of Naritano with a smile. He was so much more than beautiful, his impeccably sculptured chest bare in the moonlight, his long hair cascading in thick waves and inexplicably sparkling. “I noticed that you were looking for squash and peas, and wishing that you had more bacon and sausage and Ilaeian cheese. Oh, and lemons. Yes, you’ll need lemons. I’ll have some sent into the house for you. You’ll need some more sugar, too. Let me see if I can find some.” With that, Anosukinom vanished. “Kudorin.” Dazed, Tano slowly got to his feet. Sighing, Prince Remin kissed him. “You’ll get used to it. Go back in, he’s probably sent the lemons and bacon on their way already.” “He was… Is he… I didn’t even ask.” Anosukinom had just been there, right? He hadn’t been hallucinating again? “You’ll get used to it,” Prince Remin repeated. “Eventually.” A stray comment here, a mild request there, and Anikira found herself in friendly conversation with the man who owned the house where Tano was cooking. Moments later, she was in the house, chatting with Tano, discussing food and recipes and her trip. Turning aside to check on his helpers, Tano offered cheerful and informative instruction. Watching, Anikira liked how conversational his tone was, as if he were simply sharing with a friend instead of ordering people around. When he turned back to her, she asked, “Is there anything that I can do? If I’m going to stand here taking up space, I might as well pitch in. Do you need anything else to be washed or chopped or measured?” “Oh, no, no, Your Majesty, we’re fine. I know that it sounds silly, but sometimes the best thing a visitor in a kitchen can do is stand still! When it gets busy and crowded, having an extra person moving around just makes it more likely for us all to bump into each other or spill things or cut each other. In a busy kitchen, the first thing you learn to be careful about is someone turning around with a knife in his

hand. Oh, kitchens are dangerous places. Knives, fire, boiling water. Now I’m trying to think of a more dangerous place for our queen to stand. In front of a dozen rampaging horses, maybe? If those horses are also on fire? I mean, if you haven’t burned yourself and cut yourself about a dozen times, you haven’t really cooked.” Laughing, Anikira wondered if he’d talked this much during the trip down with Remin. “You seem to have retained all of your fingers.” “Thank the gods! It’s too bad that I can’t say the same for all of the people I worked with in Ilaeia. There was one chef - - I won’t tell you all of the nasty details, because I wouldn’t want to give you nightmares or anything - - who only had seven fingers by the time I met him. And wow, was he good with a knife. I mean, this guy was fast. I learned a lot from him. He had horrible taste, they wouldn’t let him do much else in the kitchen, everything he made was way too salty or unbearably spicy or just overwhelmed with onions and vinegar. But he was amazing with a knife. Incredibly precise. On slow days we’d have contests to see who could peel apples or cut potatoes or dice onions according to different rules, and he always won.” “How well did you do in those competitions?” “Oh.” Tano grinned at her, quickly lowering his gaze. “I guess by the end I did pretty well. When I first got to Ilaiea, my knife skills were pretty basic. I mean, they weren’t shabby, I could cut my way through bread without disgracing myself, but I didn’t have any flashy stunts. But I learned from - - his name translates to Thumbs - - I learned a lot from him, and by the time I left, I won a few of the contests.” “His name was Thumbs?” Anikira asked. “He was missing one finger on this hand, and two on the other, but he had both of his thumbs! He was pretty proud of that, too.” He’d lost fingers from two hands? “Then he lost them in different accidents at different times? I thought that it must have been one bad accident.” “No, it was four separate accidents. He lost, let me think, he lost his right forefinger, and then part of his left forefinger and all of his left middle finger, and then he lost his, no, wait, it must have been - - oh, it was all a very unfortunate set of events. And I guess he didn’t really have seven fingers in the end, it was more like five and two partials. Or two thumbs, three fingers, and two parts of fingers. But he was great with a knife!” The woman grating lemons was beginning to look horrified, so Anikira changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to see Prince Remin so soon. I’m glad that he had the chance to come down here.”

Tano’s face lit up, his smile dazzlingly bright. “He wanted to speak with Anosukinom Mutotanosa.” What in the world made Tano so happy in the middle of normal conversation? “I hope that the journey was a safe one.” “Anoha Okanoti, we were very safe. It was a terrific trip. When we stopped for lunch yesterday, we met some great people. They were all so glad to meet Prince Remin - - of course, who wouldn’t be - - and he was so interested in spending time with them - - he’s so dedicated, he cares so much about getting to know people and helping them and bringing them closer to the gods - - Prince Remin stayed and had lunch with everyone. There was a butcher named Naret who donated a pig and a whole lot of other things, so there was plenty of food for everyone. A great guy. I’m glad that Prince Remin got to spend time with them. It’s like what you’re doing here, making an effort to stay in touch with people, giving them a chance to speak with you. It’s terrific, and I wish that more governments made that same kind of effort. Although I guess that not all governments are set up in a good way to do that. But it’s important, and it should be a priority. I mean, you should’ve seen how much it meant to everyone yesterday, to spend that time with Prince Remin. And I’ll always remember what it was like when King Manosuta came around when I was younger. Biggest thrill of my life, at the time. I mean, the king! Right there with us! Talking to me! You couldn’t have convinced me that life got any better than that.” Tano turned to the woman grating lemons. “He must’ve passed through here, too. Did you speak with him?” The conversation fell into spirited reminiscences of Manosuta’s visits. Everyone had stories to tell, personal stories and the shared memories of friends and relatives. Anikira always enjoyed hearing about Manosuta’s trips, because it told her the kinds of things people would remember from her trips. It reminded her of what a difference she could make in people’s lives. They were all good memories, some funny, some very moving, tinged with echoes of the excitement and awe that a visit from the king, the man married to Anosukinom, the father of the new Seven Siblings, engendered. Through it all, Tano kept the kitchen moving. Platters and bowls kept leaving the house and coming back empty as the local citizens enjoyed the offered food. Eventually, a young woman entered the house, tall and prettily dressed with beads braided through her hair. Introducing herself as Petura, she seemed more interested in Tano than in Anikira. After some friendly chatter, she asked, “Aren’t you the chef from the palace? The foreign one?” “Foreign?” Tano asked. “No, I’m Anorian. I spent some time working in Ilaiea and Vafiance, though, so that might be the confusion. I do work for the palace, though,

I cook for King Xio Voe and Prince Anoremin.” There was that bright smile again, as if Tano were spectacularly happy about something. “Thank you for asking me so that I could say that! I love saying that. I cook for King Xio Voe and Prince Anoremin! What do you do?” “I’m an artist. Sculptures and pottery, mostly. Local work, enough to keep me fed. Aren’t you Prince Remin’s boyfriend?” Beaming, Tano cracked an egg into a bowl. “I am! I guess word travels.” Smiling at her brightly, he didn’t elaborate. “What’s he like?” Petura asked. “Amazing. Prince Remin is absolutely incredible. I mean, if you’ve seen him, then you know how fantastically beautiful he is, so I won’t have to go into detail on that. I couldn’t even describe him, I wouldn’t know where to start, just look at him. But that’s just the beginning. He’s very close to the gods, he’s deeply spiritual, and he’s very powerful. You know, that presence he has, like his own personal sense of majesty he carries around everywhere he goes?” “No, I mean, what’s he like, personally, as a boyfriend?” “Well, I already said amazing and incredible, but I should probably be more specific. This is my favorite subject, I could go on for weeks, so I’ll try to keep it short. He’s very compassionate, he’s always looking at things from all sides, so he thinks of how other people might view a situation from their perspective. He’s a fantastic listener, you can tell him anything. He-” “No, I mean, like, privately.” Tano hesitated, taking a moment to break another egg. “I don’t know, I mean, if it’s private then it’s private. I can’t really talk about that.” “You sound very happy with him,” Anikira said, before Petura could push for more. “Anoha Ilanosa, I am! I couldn’t not be,” Tano said, picking up energy again. “He’s incredible, there’s no one else like him. I understand why you’d be curious,” he told Petura. “Prince Remin’s a fascinating man, of course you’d want to know more about him. I love just being around him, even if it’s just being in the room when he’s talking to someone else. He has this way of just looking at you and making you feel as if your whole life is going to be okay from that moment on. And his voice, I could listen to it forever. As long as he’s speaking, I want to be around to listen.” “You sound like a big fan,” the woman grating lemons said. Laughing, Tano said, “I am! I think that we all are, aren’t we? I love him, I’m excited just to be around him. It was a thrill to work in the palace knowing that he

lived and worked there, before we were ever friends. Prince Anoremin’s one of the greatest blessings the gods could have given us. I’m grateful to have had the chance to get to know him and the chance to love him. Have you been able to speak with him?” he asked Petura. Blushing red, she shook her head. “No, I haven’t talked to him. I saw him a few years ago, when he visited the temple. That was before he ascended. He, uh, hung out with my brother.” Anikira couldn’t hold back a grin at that, and the woman grating lemons chuckled knowingly. She wondered if Tano knew what Petura hadn’t quite said, but apparently he did, because he smiled merrily at Petura and asked, quite naturally, “Oh, did they partner?” Coughing, Petura grinned. “They did, and I’ve heard all about it. That’s why I was asking, I wondered, if he’s still, you know, if it’s true.” “Is your brother here tonight?” Tano asked. “Prince Remin would probably enjoy seeing him again.” “He moved a year and a half ago, but he’s coming back to visit in a couple of weeks. He’ll be so pissed when I tell him that Prince Remin was here, and he missed it.” Someone came in then to pull Anikira away. She hugged Tano before she left, and he felt as delicious as she’d expected. Remin had found a good one. Turning away from a young family, Remin saw Anikira approaching. Smiling, he returned her affectionate embrace. “I’ve missed you.” “Forget me, I want to talk about Tano! I haven’t really had a chance to get to know him well, and I’m so glad that you brought him down! Remin, he’s great!” He didn’t want to grin goofily in public, but he couldn’t help it. “He’s pretty terrific.” “I know how excited Kudorin’s been about him, and I knew that the gods wouldn’t give you anything less than the best, but I wanted to get to know him for myself. I like him! And wow, is he in love with you.” It felt great to talk about it. “I’m in love with him, too.” “Of course you are!” Hugging him again, Anikira kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad that you’ve found him. Maybe it’s just having been away for so long, but it really struck me, when you walked up tonight. You looked so different, you looked so much younger, so much happier. So much healthier, really.” Holding him at arms’ length, she studied his face. “You aren’t as gaunt anymore.” She grinned. “Your chef must be feeding you well. Extra told me you’ve been making a glutton of yourself.”

“I don’t love him just for his food, but if I did, you couldn’t blame me.” “No, he’s fantastic in the kitchen.” Hugging him again, Anikira whispered, “I’m so happy for you. We’ve been so worried about you. If he makes you smile like this, I’ll always be grateful to him.” “Oh, unh, ah-ah, unh! Ah!” Gasping, Rini shuddered with ecstasy as orgasm popped brightly through his body. “Oh, fuck, that was good.” Weak-kneed, he rested his hands on someone’s shoulders, trying to keep himself upright. As someone’s fingers withdrew from his ass, someone else’s tongue licked into him, and someone else crawled in closer, nuzzling into his groin and sucking on his balls. “Oh, ah, shit, that’s nice.” Moaning, Rini arched, curling his fingers into the soft black hair of the guy sucking his balls. Such light, tender suction, “Mmm,” yeah, that was it. Closing his eyes, Rini listened to the grunting and begging and sexual talk surrounding him, sighing with pleasure as new hands stole up his chest. They were in one of the cleanest sheds Rini had ever seen. A dense layer of quilts and blankets covered the floor; a small table with drinks and snacks and oil stood in one corner. Except for a small, heavy wagon in another corner, the shed had been emptied to make room for their pleasure. Rini was just enjoying the sensation of sweet arousal starting to flare and burn into real need again, tension pulsing up his thighs, when he heard someone say, “Oh, come on, Elome.” Irritated voices joined in. “We’re having a good time here.” “It’s Prince Rini. Get out, get out!” “Does Tomakin know that you’re here?” “Get out of here!” Opening his eyes, curious and concerned, Rini saw a tall, lean young man standing just inside the door. He was a good-looking guy. High cheekbones, lanky build, hair shorn down to fuzz. He wore black pants, his naked upper body sleek and tanned. He had Ilanosa’s symbol tattooed on the side of his neck. As he met Rini’s eyes, his smile was eager and hungry. “Hi.” Rini stroked the hair he’d been holding onto. “I’m Prince Rini.” Elome started to move, as if to kneel down, but someone from the tangle of bodies got up, pushing him back. “Go home. Come on, go back home. We don’t need this tonight.” “What’s wrong?” Rini didn’t want to kick people out if they wanted to participate. “Why can’t he stay?”

Amid the ensuing grumbling, someone sat back, wiping his mouth, and said, “His name’s Elome. He lives about two miles from here, outside of Seratil. Every few months he runs away from home and convinces someone to partner with him, and then his boyfriend shows up and beats him. He does it on purpose, because he likes it when Tomakin punishes him, but then all of us have to deal with it.” Elome scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just want to see Prince Rini. Tomakin brought me, he’s here, he’s just talking to Anosukinom.” “He lies,” someone told Rini. “You’re full of shit, Elome. Get the fuck out and go home.” “He beats you?” Rini asked. “Not abusive beating,” someone said. “Just sexual stuff.” Oh, well, “If you want to hang out while you wait for Tomakin, you can. As long as you don’t disrupt the party, it’s fine with me. There are some restraints and paddles in the corner, if you want to use them.” Kneeling down, Rini kissed the nearest available guy, crawling on top of him, getting back to the fun. Soon the air was thick with happy moans, sighs of arousal, and the sound of flesh against flesh. It wasn’t long before Elome picked his way through the crowd and wriggled in against Rini. Rolling over, Rini firmly pushed Elome’s hand away from his body and looked into his eyes. “Does Tomakin know that you’re here? Is he okay with this?” Rini would be very happy to partner with Elome, but he didn’t want to interfere with someone else’s relationship. Elome was really hot, though, and looked pretty bold, which Rini always appreciated in a partner. “He’s with Anosukinom, Your Highness. He told me to come and find you. Can I kiss your feet? You have such pretty toes, I want you to rub them in my face.” Rini couldn’t tell if Elome were lying or not. But he did like having his toes sucked. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? You know that you can always tell me the truth, whatever it is.” Elome shook his head quickly. “I wouldn’t lie about Anosukinom.” Hunh. That was a good point. “Okay. You can go ahead and kiss my feet.” Dropping a kiss on Elome’s cheek, Rini rolled over and got cozy, making out with the closest guy and moaning happily at the feel of a hand on his dick. “Mmm,” yeah, he was so glad that he’d agreed to this party tonight. Oh, “Ah, ah,” yes, whoever was caressing his ass was doing a very nice job of it, and, “oh, oh, oh!” Groaning, Rini curled his toes, shivering with pleasure. Massaging the arch of his foot, Elome licked between his toes, and Rini moaned in bliss, nudging his toes against Elome’s mouth, wanting more. “Unh, mmnn, oh.” The way Elome’s tongue caressed Rini’s sensitive skin made him want to spread his legs and beg for it.

Rolling his hips and rubbing his dick into a fondling hand, Rini kissed his partner more aggressively, gasping as Elome started to suck. Enjoying himself thoroughly and giving a little head, Rini was startled by the sound of a strangled gasp. Looking around hurriedly, he saw a man standing over his feet. That had to be Tomakin. He was dressed in blue, thick with muscle, and had Ilanosa’s symbol tattooed on one brawny forearm. He was looking down with a grim smile, one hand gripping Elome’s neck, trapping the back of Elome’s head against his crotch. Flushed and panting, Elome whimpered happily as Tomakin’s hand stroked his jaw. “I don’t want you bothering Prince Rini.” Tomakin’s voice was deep and confident. “He’s here to have a good time and see to his own needs, not yours.” Snapping his fingers, Tomakin pointed to a corner. Without a moment’s hesitation, Elome crawled through the arching, thrusting, sweaty bodies to the corner. “Is it okay if I partner with him?” Rini asked. He wanted to add, “Or you?” “Of course, Your Highness. Use him as you like. I’ll be back for him in the morning.” Licking his lips, Rini had to ask, “Do you want me to get you off?” Tomakin grinned. “I would love that, Your Highness, but the things that get me off aren’t things I’d do to a child of the gods.” With a bow, Tomakin went to the corner. Crouching down, he leaned in very close to Elome’s face and whispered something. Listening with wide-eyed attention, lips parted, Elome just nodded for a long time. Then, taking a strip of leather from his pocket, Tomakin tied Elome’s wrist to a wheel of the wagon, tethering him. With that, Tomakin walked out. Rini went back to giving head, but when he’d finished he went over to the wagon, curious. Elome looked up at him hopefully, gaze skimming his body with avid interest. Hmm. Balancing carefully, Rini raised his foot, brushing his toes across Elome’s lips. Mouth opening in immediate response, Elome licked out, sucking at his toes. Grinning, Rini rubbed his foot into Elome’s face, pushing into Elome’s mouth. “Tomakin said that I can do whatever I want with you.” Groaning, Elome cupped Rini’s heel with his free hand, licking hungry wet stripes along the arch of Rini’s foot.

“If you suck dick like you suck feet, I know what I want to do with you. It sounds like you’ve been annoying everybody, breaking in on their good times and making them a part of your personal life whether they want to be or not. So maybe you should make it up to them.” Looking over his shoulder, pushing his toes against Elome’s tongue until Elome groaned, Rini raised his voice. “Everybody get in line. Elome wants to show you a good time.” Dismissing the others, Tano finished cleaning up on his own. Stacking plates in the cupboard, he wiped his hands on his apron and untied it, looking around to see if he’d missed anything. Satisfied, he murmured his thanks to the gods and extinguished the extra lights. Leaving some gold behind, he wrapped up what he’d made for Prince Remin to snack on the next day, then stepped outside. Right in the doorway, he almost bumped into Prince Remin. “Hi,” Prince Remin said, smiling and drawing him close. “Hi.” He hadn’t been prepared to have Prince Remin this near, this soon, and his heart pounded furiously as his hands settled on Prince Remin’s waist. “You’re the talk of the evening.” Prince Remin’s eyes shone with pride, and Tano grew warm at having pleased him so well. “No one can get over your food. The queen sought me out just to tell me how much she likes you.” The queen! “She’s been so gracious and so kind. She even offered to help with the cooking! As if I’d ask Anosukinom’s wife to peel carrots! ‘Sure, you’re just our queen, the destined mother of the future living god among us, why don’t you boil some water for me?’ It’s funny, I love how approachable your family is, but I’m always so embarrassed, too, at the thought of actually taking them up on offers like that. I’m glad that I finally figured out how to make a good impression! I’ll have to try to remember what it was that I did this time, so I can do it again in the future.” “You didn’t do anything, you were just yourself.” Chuckling, Prince Remin admitted, “And you talked about me a lot, apparently.” “Oh, if that’s all it is, then, sure, it’ll be easy to do that again next time! It would be harder not to talk about you. I don’t think that you could convince me not to bring you up one way or another.” “Surely there are more interesting subjects. Are you finished here?” “I’m finished. I was just coming to find you.” “Come with me to say good night to Anosukinom, and we’ll get some rest.”

His arm around Prince Remin’s waist, Tano walked with Prince Remin across the grass. Spotting Petura a few yards away, near the fire, he asked, “Have you spoken with her? She was hoping to meet you.” “I’ll say hello,” Prince Remin said, immediately shifting direction. As they approached Petura, she looked up, flashing Tano a nervous smile. “Petura Silan?” Prince Remin asked. “I’m glad to meet you.” Blushing, she bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Remin.” Prince Remin smiled, scanning her face. “Are you Sipi’s sister?” Shooting Tano a look, she grinned. “You told him.” “I didn’t mention it!” Tano protested. “You remember him?” he asked Prince Remin. “How could I forget? How is he?” Prince Remin asked. “He’s living in Kula now?” With a disbelieving expression, she said, “Yeah, in Kula. He’s fine, he’ll be back for a visit soon.” “I’m sorry that I missed him.” Prince Remin took her hand, his voice warm and soothing as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “And how are you, daughter of Alanohi?” Caught in Prince Remin’s snare, she stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. “I’m fine, Your Highness. I’ve been feeling so lonely lately, and uninspired, I’ve barely touched my work. But my mother signed me up for some artists’ workshop, and Sipi’s going to visit. One of my old friends from school helps to run the workshop, and I’m really looking forward to seeing her.” Prince Remin nodded, squeezing her hand. “It is good to see old friends. And to make new ones. Know that there is never a need to feel lonely, Petura. Alanohi is forever in your heart and in your hands. You have been blessed with a gift, a gift of creativity, a gift of skill, a gift of the ability to reach people without saying a word. You are loved, Petura, and you are never alone. Anoha Alanohi. Walk with the gods and know what they have given you, and you will be fulfilled and at peace always.” Rapidly blinking back tears, she nodded. “Anoha Alanohi,” Prince Remin repeated tenderly. “Anoha Alanohi,” Petura replied, looking dazed. With a smile, Prince Remin released her hand.

Grinning at Petura, Tano put his arm around Prince Remin’s waist, falling into step as Prince Remin walked away. “I love it when you do that,” he said, enjoying the softness of Prince Remin’s hair as it fell past his bare forearm. “When I do what?” “That magical thing you do where you’re just being yourself and inspiring people towards better lives.” “I couldn’t do it on my own. If I asked alone, everyone would stop at, ‘I’m fine,’ and I wouldn’t get the rest of the answer. The gods are with me, and people know that, so they find it easier to confide in me.” “Do people confide in the rest of your brothers?” “Some more than others. Not nearly as much in Talin. He’s not very receptive to it. But in the rest of them, yes, all of the time.” As they neared the spot where Anosukinom sat alone gazing into a small fire on the grass, Tano felt awed and shy. He wanted to hang back, because it seemed rude to intrude; Anosukinom was clearly alone for a reason. But as his steps slowed, Prince Remin hooked two fingers in the waistband of his shorts and tugged him along. Looking up with vividly multi-colored eyes, Anosukinom smiled broadly. “Inanodat.” Leaning down, Prince Remin kissed Anosukinom. “I hope to speak with you tomorrow. About my husband.” “I know why you have come, Anosatim. We shall see how your scheme unfolds.” Anosukinom’s gaze rested on Tano. “You are pleased with my priest. It is good that he is fervently loved. He is precious to us and we are glad that he is appreciated.” Tano nodded, bowing. His heart was beating in a weird way he couldn’t understand. “Yes, Your Majesty. I love him very much. Thank you for permitting me this time with him.” The way Anosukinom switched from singular to plural pronouns was unnerving, but of course Anosukinom talked that way; he spoke on behalf of all of the gods. “You put my name on your body.” Anosukinom’s gaze dropped to Tano’s groin. “May I see it?” Couldn’t, um, couldn’t he see it as it was? Anosukinom could raise the sun; of course he could see through cloth. But if he wanted Tano to show it to him, of course Tano would. It was monumentally embarrassing to have it tucked so close to his crotch, and now Tano wished that he’d put it somewhere a little less private.

Raising his hand, palm facing them, Anosukinom slowly turned his hand around. As he did so, Prince Remin turned as well, facing away. “For your own good,” Anosukinom said. Tano glanced over; Prince Remin dragged his hand through his hair and crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes tightly. If this made Prince Remin uncomfortable, or turned Prince Remin on too much, then“He’ll be fine.” Anosukinom sat back, gesturing Tano closer. “Don’t worry, no one can see us. I wanted a moment alone, so only my dear queen even knows that I’m over here.” Stepping nearer to Anosukinom in the firelight, Tano hesitated with his hands on his fly. The way - - it was kind of - - Anosukinom was gazing up at him with affectionate interest, and Anosukinom was seated right in a position to - - that impossibly beautiful face was right - - it was almost - - oh, gods above, he couldn’t have thoughts like that! With a sparklingly mischievous smile - - and it seemed wrong to think that a deity would smile at him that way, but it was most definitely happening - - Anosukinom licked his lips. “You will show me?” Oh. Gods above. Trying to cover his sudden hard-on with his hands, Tano felt heat in his cheeks. If it were anyone else, he’d think that he were being teased, or flirted with, or, or, but this was Anosukinom! “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t embarrass you.” Anosukinom’s voice was soft now, understanding, pulling on his heart the same way that Prince Remin’s did. “Anosatim will tell you himself that I like to be involved in every aspect of his life. I love him, and I enjoy experiencing his life with him. He is so close to you, you are such an important part of his life, that I crave intimacy with you, too. You don’t have to show me anything if it makes you uncomfortable, Tano.” Soothed and enthralled, Tano wasn’t self-conscious at all anymore. “You’d like to see?” Anosukinom’s smile was like a spring sunrise. “I would.” Anosukinom craved intimacy with him. He could hardly fathom that. But if Anosukinom wanted to look at him, he had no reason to hide. Unbuttoning his shorts, he pushed them down with his underwear, exposing his tattoo and his achingly stiff erection. “Look at that.” Anosukinom’s voice was rich with pleasure. “Oh, I like that.” Leaning forward, tucking his hair behind his ears, he examined Tano frankly.

An incredible sense of peace and love swept through Tano, pulsing into him, and he gasped, rocking slightly on his feet. His thighs burned, arousal powerfully quick within him, and his knees went weak, making him dip slightly. Choking back a groan, he staggered back a step, needing to come but unwilling to do it so close to Anosukinom’s face. “Oh, sorry, that’s my fault.” Anosukinom leaned back again, and Tano gasped for air as that amazing feeling faded. Trying to get himself under control, he blinked unsteadily. Oh, that had been good. He’d never thought that he’d be okay flashing his hard-on in front of Anosukinom, but Anosukinom kept staring at it, and if Anosukinom actually wanted to see it, well, Tano showed it to every other guy who asked for it. He didn’t have anything to hide from Anosukinom. There was no part of him, no part of his life, that Anosukinom hadn’t always known better than he did. “I wish that Anosatim could go down on you. I want to know what it’s like. Other men’s experiences are available to me, but no one gives head like my priest.” Anosukinom sighed, tilting his head to one side. “My name looks very pretty on your skin. You missed home very much while you were away. I missed you, too. I’m glad that you have come back to us, Tano.” A sharp look to one side, and Anosukinom said, “My king wishes to speak with me, and I wish to give him my full attention. Go with my love.” Walls closed in around him, and Tano was in a house, in the room with the bed he’d arranged for Prince Remin. Alone. Entirely naked. Wondering where Prince Remin had gone, he got into bed, rubbing his naked thighs, wrapping a hand around his aching erection and looking down at his groin. He’d just shown Anosukinom his dick. Now that Anosukinom’s soothing, reassuring presence wasn’t putting him at ease, Tano couldn’t believe that he’d just done that. Hot with embarrassment, he closed his eyes, wincing. He could’ve just pulled his underwear aside a little, or covered his dick with his hands, or anything. Anything but wave his erection around in Anosukinom’s face! It was an embarrassing memory, but he wanted to go back and explore it. The way Anosukinom had smiled at him. That amazing feeling singing along his skin. Anosukinom craving intimacy with him. Anosukinom admitting flat-out that no one gave head like Prince Remin. How could he have shown Anosukinom his dick? Yet how could he second-guess it, when Anosukinom’s response was, “I wish that Anosatim could go down on you?” It had all been so arousing. Tano had to keep from masturbating in front of Prince Remin to keep things from going too far, but now he was alone and he really

needed to get himself off before Prince Remin returned. And as he did so, even amid the swirl of his other thoughts, Tano couldn’t stop picturing Prince Remin’s mouth on his dick, Prince Remin licking and slurping on Tano the way he did with dildos. It had to feel amazing. His natural itch for sex combining with his lust for Prince Remin and his excitement over Anosukinom, Tano came quickly. Hastily cleaning up so that Prince Remin wouldn’t notice anything, Tano settled himself in bed to wait. His mind conjured its usual beloved images of Prince Remin, and also the memory of Anosukinom, those vivid eyes, that happy smile. Every time he spoke with Anosukinom, he was left with a new sense of wonder. Tonight was no exception. He had so much to learn. Would he ever understand Anosukinom? He wondered if anyone but Prince Remin could. “Go with my love.” The night vanished around Remin, dropping him, naked, into a small cell padded with golden, pillowed softness. Trusting Kudorin, landing on his bare ass, Remin closed his eyes, dropping onto his back and arching as his hand curled eagerly around his dick. Kudorin hadn’t let him turn, hadn’t let his feet move, but Kudorin had let him watch, had let him see, had let him stare at Tano’s gorgeous cock from every angle. That sexy dick, so luscious, so hard, right there for his mouth. Unh, he needed it, it was his, it was, oh, oh, ah! Coming with an echoing cry, Remin sprawled, looselimbed, panting. Oh, he needed it. And he was going to get it. Sooner or later. Anikira could guess, from the oblivious, inattentive chatter around her, that no one else had seen what she’d seen. Remin, standing eerily still with his arms locked across his chest, while Kudorin ogled Tano’s dick. Things like that made her wonder about Anosukinom. About whether other pharaohs had acted this way, or if it were specific to Kudorin. Because she really had trouble imagining Kudorin’s pharaoh mother acting that way. Especially in public. Then again, Kudorin didn’t do that with just anyone. He had a very intense interest in Tano, specifically. Remin’s husband fascinated him. Still. Anikira really just couldn’t picture Anorik examining Hisi’s husband that way. The sound of Kudorin’s chuckle entered her mind. The stories I could tell you.

Wincing, Anikira laughed. “Please don’t.” Exhausted, panting, Remin stared numbly at the soft, golden ceiling overhead. He still yearned for Tano, but he’d masturbated the fever out. He could think of Tano now without feeling that seething, riotous need. Closing his eyes, he wished that he were with Tano, that Tano were with him, that“Oh. You’re back.” Soft with wonder, Tano’s voice was a sweetly refreshing breeze through the charred remains of his mind. As he rolled toward the sound, he felt Tano hug him. There was too much fabric between them - - he had shorts on? - but Tano’s body was strong and firm against him. “Is everything okay?” He’d been tormented by need, by what he couldn’t have, by fervent and impossible lust. But his body was quiet now, content in Tano’s embrace. Soothed by Tano’s love, Remin combed his fingers through Tano’s thick hair. “I love you so much.” Tano actually sounded surprised. “I love you, too.” Happily snuggling in, Remin sighed. He’d get to spend the rest of his life like this. With Tano, in Tano’s embrace, held close by Tano’s love. The thought of it made him want to linger over each moment of it forever, and rush through it all in a jubilant race, at the same time. Yawning, drowsy, he murmured, “Kudorin likes your dick.” Kudorin liked being around his brothers. He liked having them close. It pleased him that Remin had come to him. He’d enjoyed Remin’s trip, the experience of feeling Remin gradually draw nearer and nearer to him. Now Remin was close. In a different house, yet still nearer to him physically than when they slept in the palace. “Is the palace too big?” Stirring in her sleep, Anikira mumbled, “If you make it any smaller, you’ll just upset Xio Voe.” Hmm. Kudorin reached into the palace and nudged Xio Voe. “Jarouje?” Xio Voe asked, eyes opening with one blink. “How would you feel if I made the palace smaller?” “The Anorian palace is the home of Anosukinom. It is yours to do with as you like.” “I didn’t ask that. I asked how you would feel about it.” Xio Voe’s heart was as overflowing with warmth as his expression was cold. His tone betrayed no affection whatsoever, but Kudorin heard the love song of his

soul. “I do not ordinarily have emotional responses to architectural decisions, but I shall attempt to humor you in this line of questioning. As an architectural undertaking, it would be a waste of resources of which I would not approve. As a miracle, it seems frivolous at best. As our cultures sometimes compete through displays of wealth, it seems only correct for Anosukinom’s home to be the most lavish extravagance in existence. Minimizing the palace would seemingly minimize your power or importance. Particularly as Anorian culture has not excluded itself from this competition in other ways.” “It’s important to you that I am treated differently, better than, others.” “Yes.” “I wish that you were here. Remin’s here. I want to hug Tano, it hurts me not to be able to touch him. It was bad enough with Bade, and now Tano, and my other brothers are going to find their partners, too, and it’ll only get worse.” Kudorin sighed. “How was your day?” “Productive.” The perfect Jacacean answer. Kudorin laughed, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest. “Tell me more.” Slow, lingering kisses down the side of his face. “Ooonngh.” Waking just enough to roll closer, Tano curled his fingers in long, thick locks of hair and tilted his face, finding Prince Remin’s soft, seductive mouth for a kiss. “Mmm.” “Come outside with me.” Prince Remin was, Tano’s questing hands discovered, already dressed. “Anosukinom’s going to raise the sun.” When they’d stepped outside, they’d walked over to the grassy meadow where everyone else stood. Anosukinom sat on the ground, meditating. They’d all barely gotten any sleep, and people were yawning and rubbing their eyes and looking dazed, rumpled. Aside from a few vague murmurs, they were silent, watching Anosukinom, waiting. Tano had stopped directly behind Remin, and he embraced Remin, pulling Remin back against his chest. Loving the contact, Remin leaned into him, enjoying the coziness of it, the sturdiness of Tano’s body. Remin put his own hands over Tano’s, caressing lightly between Tano’s fingers, silently praying. It was a gorgeous sunrise. The sky was resplendent with color in a magnificent display. Streaks of purple and pink gave way to splashes of orange as the sun

lifted past the horizon. Remin watched it all while standing in Tano’s embrace, caught in time. As the pressure of Anosukinom’s omnipotence eased, and Anosukinom relaxed, breathing deeply, everyone bowed, uttering words of praise. People swarmed forward to greet Anosukinom, while others drifted back to their homes for breakfast and chores. Tano stayed right there, so Remin stayed with him, unmoving, perfectly content to stay in his arms. “That was… It felt so… Anoha Anosukinom,” Tano said, finally. Smiling, Remin stroked the back of Tano’s hand. It was always a special moment when Anorians were with Kudorin during sunrise, but Remin was especially glad to share it with Tano. “Anoha Anosukinom,” he agreed. They’d stayed there, continuing to watch the sun, for so long that they were alone in the meadow when a child wandered up, bowed with precise care, and tugged at Remin’s pants. “Anoha Akanoti, Your Highness.” Smiling, Remin finally broke away from Tano to kneel down, taking the girl’s hand. “Anoha Akanoti and good morning to you.” “Anosukinom told me to ask you to go and talk to him.” “Then thank you for bringing me the message.” A quick pulse of anticipation shot through him. “Did he say where?” She frowned at him. “He said that you’d know where.” “Then I’m sure that I do.” Blessing her, Remin stood, taking Tano’s hand. As Remin began to step away, Tano hesitated, drawing him back. Tano’s expression was concerned. “I don’t want to intrude. I’ll go make you breakfast while-” “Come with me. I’d like your help with something.” Immediately, Tano’s expression cleared. “Do you want me to run and get you something to eat? I-” “My stomach will be fine,” Remin promised, kissing him. “Come, we shouldn’t keep Anosukinom waiting.” Squinting in the morning light, Rini wriggled out from under Elome, squirming away from the tangle of bodies. Running his hands through his tousled hair, he tried to remember why he was awake. Kudorin. Kudorin wanted him for something.

Okay, he’d be there in a minute. He just had to get cleaned up and find something to wear first.

Part 272 Tano had no idea which direction to start in, but Prince Remin seemed to know exactly where to go, strolling along with unhurried purpose. They ended up some distance behind a barn, in a field of soft, green grass. Anosukinom sat casually on the ground, wearing nothing but shorts and jewels, petting a rabbit in his lap. He’d just worked powerful miracles, lifting the sun into the sky, his omnipotence pressing intensely around Tano’s body, and now here he sat, as if he were any ordinary man. Tano wanted to kneel humbly before him, to sing praise, to worship him. Tano had already spent the sunrise, and the time after, in prayer. Standing there, embracing a child of the gods, he’d poured out his soul to the gods, thanking them, praising them, overwhelmed by the sunrise, by Anosukinom’s magnificence, by all of the joys and wonders and blessings of his life. He could’ve gone on forever. He was sure that Anosukinom had heard him, but he would be more than happy to say it all again, aloud, in Anosukinom’s mighty presence. As they approached, Anosukinom looked up with a brilliant smile. “Inanodat.” “Anosukinom.” Anosukinom waved the word away, then gestured to the grass. “Sit, both of you. And speak to me candidly, I’m your brother. We don’t have to be formal, it’s just Tano.” When Prince Remin sat, Tano sat, too. It was ridiculous of him to ogle Anosukinom’s body, but it was also impossible not to. Such a flawless physique, such creamy skin, and on such unselfconscious display. Anosukinom met his eyes with a smile. “Remin used to lounge around naked all of the time. He’d just flop across the grass in the sun like a lazy cat. He only learned modesty when he turned twenty.” “This is true.” Prince Remin scooted closer to Tano, so Tano snaked an arm around him, gathering him closer to Tano’s side. Leaning in against Tano, he rested a hand on Tano’s knee. “Am I late?” Prince Rini’s cheerful voice arrived from behind them, and then Prince Rini stepped into view. He had on striped yellow pants and a red belt, and nothing else. Before Tano could get up to greet him, the rabbit hopped away and Prince Rini dropped right into Anosukinom’s lap, settling comfortably into Anosukinom’s

embrace and looking at Tano with shining, curious eyes. “What are we talking about?” “You aren’t talking at all,” Anosukinom said, and kissed his cheek. With an interested look, Prince Rini licked his lips, then relaxed against Anosukinom’s chest in silence, gaze flickering from Tano to Prince Remin and back. “Before we get to whatever Remin wants, I want Tano to tell us what he was thinking about this morning.” Oh! Opening his mouth, Tano leaned forward to“Not that.” Anosukinom smiled at him. “I know of your love and your faith, Tano. I heard your prayers as clearly today as every other day. Thank you for your devotion. But tell us now of your other thoughts.” What? Really? Tano glanced at Prince Remin for cues, but Prince Remin just nodded at him to go ahead. To be honest, “I don’t know why my philosophical ramblings would interest you at all, I mean, what we think of as the mysteries of the world must be like counting to three for you. But I was just thinking about - - it started off with watching the sunset and thinking about how powerful the gods are. How powerful even the sun is. Which makes me and my little lifetime not all that important. It’s all relative, it’s all about perspective. Like, ants probably have all kinds of thrilling events in their lives, and drama, and adventures, but how much of that really matters, in the long run? Horses go through a lot in their horse lives, but how much of their day-to-day emotional dramas really make a difference? So if I’m happy or fulfilled, or live a quiet life, or get kidnapped and killed, or whatever, it pretty much all ends the same way. Which I think is kind of reassuring. I’m not all that important, historically, or cosmically, or on a global scale, and what I go through really doesn’t have the same kind of impact on the world that, like, a war would have, and even then, we just study wars in history books and no one really cares that much. So we’re all significant to ourselves and even each other, but we only get short little lives that don’t make a huge difference.” Prince Rini was frowning at him. Self-conscious in the silence, Tano went on, since no one spoke or stopped him. “But if all we get are short little lives, maybe we should make the most of them. Even if you’re an ant, do you want an unhappy, miserable life of fear and drudgery and ant violence? Or do you want to travel stalks of grass and find new things to eat and have a happy life of fun exploration? If our lives don’t matter to history, then I guess that we could be mean and violent or just curl up in bed and do nothing, ever. But our lives still matter to us, right? So we should make the most of them.” Anosukinom’s voice was quiet. “How?”

Laughing, Tano admitted, “I still haven’t figured out how! I don’t know how, yet.” “Yes, you do.” Oh. Well, yes, but. Not sure what to say to that, Tano looked down at the grass. At his free hand. At Prince Rini’s pretty, bare feet. Secretly, in his heart, he knew that if he wanted to make the most of his life and live to his fullest, he’d marry Prince Remin. He didn’t have any answers besides that. But he couldn’t just say that. Anosukinom knew what he was thinking, but Prince Remin didn’t. “Your life does matter. It has a great impact upon this world. Upon all of the people around you, and people you’ll never meet. Your life matters to your fellow human beings, to every creature you share this world with, to the world itself. To us, to the gods. You make a tremendous difference. Whether or not you know it doesn’t change that. But you’re right, Tano. You should make the most of this precious life.” Anosukinom made the sign to the gods, and warmth surrounded Tano for an instant, fading slowly. Amazed, he touched his own arm and found it warmer than usual, as if he’d been sitting by a fireside. “Remin? You want to speak with me?” “I’m ready to get married.” Prince Remin said it firmly, the sound of his voice snatching Tano’s attention away from everything else. “I’m ready to get engaged. I want to run through the interview, to see how well I handle the questions.” That was odd. Was a test interview allowed? And didn’t Prince Remin interview people and approve engagements all of the time? Wasn’t he already familiar with the process and the sorts of questions which might come up? “I thought that Tano would be a good partner for this, as my boyfriend.” Anosukinom shrugged. “Tano, would you like to marry Remin?” What? “Yes.” His stomach was twisting around painfully. He shut his teeth to keep the, “Yes, yes, of course, gods above, please,” from jumping out. “Remin, do you think that you’d be a good husband for Tano?” “As a matter of fact, I do.” “And you’re both in love with each other?” “We are,” Prince Remin said, as if it were an easy matter of fact. “Tano?” Anosukinom asked. “Do you love Remin?” “Yes, of course. I love Prince Remin very much.” With all of his heart and all of his soul and all of his life. “Tell me about your love for one another.” “I love the way that Tano smiles,” Prince Remin said, and it sounded astonishingly natural, astonishingly easy for him to say. “The way he laughs, his whole

personality. I love the way he cooks. Not just the amazing food, but the way he’s confident and comfortable and happy in any kitchen, big or small. I love his faith. If Tano weren’t so clearly born to be a chef, his calling would have undoubtedly been the priesthood. He carries the aura of the gods with him and he’s closer to the gods than even some of my best priests.” “I am?” Tano was sure that he meant those words, because Prince Remin wouldn’t just sit around lying so brazenly in front of Anosukinom. But it was kind of overwhelming to hear Prince Remin speak that way about him. “You are.” Prince Remin smiled at him with that look he got when he was talking about the gods. “It brings me peace. I spend much of my day transitioning between kinds of dialogue. I counsel children in the clinics, then I talk with my brothers about their sex lives, then I talk with priests about the gods. But with you, I don’t have to change anything to suit you. I can be religious and philosophical and you soak it up, or I can be crass and lewd and you’re right there with me. You’re always your open, honest self with me, and I’m free to be myself, all of myself, with you. I love you for that.” It filled Tano’s heart with joy to hear how he’d affected Prince Remin. He wanted Prince Remin to be himself; he loved who Prince Remin was, and would have been crushed if Prince Remin couldn’t be comfortable and open around him. He wanted to say that, but all he could get out was a breathless whisper of, “I love you, too.” And then Prince Remin was kissing him, sweet and pure and beautiful. When they had stopped kissing and were only grinning openly at each other, Anosukinom said, “Tano. How does Remin make you feel?” “Happy.” Gazing into Prince Remin’s magnificent eyes, Tano couldn’t look away. “I’m so happy to see him each day. I feel so lucky just to know him and spend time with him. When I’m with him, I feel like I’m constantly learning something new about the gods or about people or about myself. When he smiles, when I make him smile, my heart swells and I want to do it again.” He loved to make Prince Remin happy. “What does he make me feel? Everything. Joy, pride, compassion, honor, glee, love, fear of letting him down, guilt for monopolizing his time, anything that you can feel, I can relate it to Prince Remin. And then there’s lust, desire, passion, ecstasy, the way he touches me, I, this list could go on forever.” “I understand.” Anosukinom spoke before they could kiss again, turning Tano’s attention. “I enjoy the way you express the complex emotions you have for Remin.” Tano blinked a little, realizing that he’d actually said all of that aloud, his heart beating fast. He wasn’t embarrassed to be honest about how he felt about Prince Remin; he was just a little self-conscious about the way he’d said it. When he got

lost in Prince Remin’s eyes like that, he usually just blurted out whatever was on his mind. Anosukinom looked thoughtful. Prince Rini was staring at Prince Remin as if trying to communicate through his eyes. Tano wondered if Prince Rini literally couldn’t speak at the moment. Prince Remin had a few stories about Anosukinom’s more whimsical moments which suggested that was a real possibility. “The members of your immediate family have completed their lives. Remin’s family is a big part of his day-to-day life. Tell me how you plan to deal with that.” “Tano is welcome to take on any members of my family he wants,” Prince Remin said. “Especially the younger ones.” Prince Rini grinned at Tano, wiggling his fingers in greeting. “In all seriousness, I am sensitive to Tano’s position, and I would be very glad to share my family with him. For anyone I marry, my brothers will be his brothers, and my parents will be his parents. Sadum would love him. Someone hovering over me, constantly offering more food? She’ll be thrilled.” This wasn’t much of a test interview at all. Prince Remin was answering the questions as if he were really considering the situation. It was so bittersweet, so wonderful, so painful, to hear Prince Remin discuss what a good fit they could be together. Prince Remin would be glad to share his family? Queen Eleita - - no, Princess Eleita - - would be thrilled? It was too good to be true, but that was the problem; it wasn’t true. It was particularly wonderful and particularly cruel to want this so badly, and to see it unfolding before him, but to know that none of it really counted. He was being offered the dream he’d longed for, but he’d never get to keep it. He wanted it to stop before it killed him; he wanted it to go on forever so that he could cling to the fantasy. Why would Prince Remin put him through this? Didn’t Prince Remin know how he felt? Hadn’t he been obvious? Did Prince Remin really not understand what this was like, for him? It wasn’t like Prince Remin to be so inconsiderate. It wasn’t like Prince Remin to be mean. Confused, hurt, yearning, Tano rubbed his cheek against the silk of Prince Remin’s hair. “Tano? How do you feel about it?” About taking Prince Remin’s family for his own? About considering King Manosuta his own father? About calling Prince Rini his brother? He still couldn’t get over the incredible experience of being in the palace on a regular basis. He still couldn’t get over seeing them in the hallways and knowing that he worked in their home. He still couldn’t get used to how friendly they were with him. The thought of considering them family was just too much. He hadn’t called anyone family in years, and he hadn’t wanted to; his own family had meant the world to him, and that bond couldn’t be replicated. But the Seven Siblings, of course, he would love

to call them family. The children of his gods would always be in his heart. It had just never occurred to him that they might ever consider him family. And of course they wouldn’t. They couldn’t. This wasn’t a real conversation. He was the stand-in for someone else. That someone else was the one they would embrace as their brother. Tano couldn’t do this. He couldn’t sit here and answer these questions. He couldn’t stay and listen to the beautiful, awful things Prince Remin said. But what could he do, flee from Anosukinom? Get up and run from Prince Remin? He couldn’t be that rude. He couldn’t embarrass or upset Prince Remin like that. He just had to get through it. Maybe it would be over soon. Maybe soon they’d have had enough. Smooth, confident fingers slid along his jaw, turning his head, and he looked into Prince Remin’s eyes. “Tano?” That voice. Those eyes. Tano fell irrevocably in love all over again. He trusted Prince Remin. He was safe with Prince Remin. He hurt, his heart was suffering, but how could he be unhappy when he was here with Prince Remin, here with Anosukinom? He was here for Prince Remin, here to help Prince Remin on the path towards love and fulfillment. When he looked into Prince Remin’s eyes, when he saw the gleaming gold there, he knew that everything would be all right. And then he looked at Anosukinom, and Prince Rini, and thought of the sunrise. Anosukinom was not a careless god. Anosukinom knew that Prince Remin should always smell of the exoticism of incense. Tano was safe here. This was for Prince Remin. Tano would trust them, and give them honest answers. In his love, he would give Prince Remin this gift, this further step on the road towards Prince Remin’s husband. “I’m sorry, I was, uh, thinking.” Tano cleared his throat. Prince Rini was twisting around to frown at Anosukinom, and Anosukinom was kissing his face and shushing him. “I’ve always, as an Anorian, considered the royal family to be my family, in a way. I hope that doesn’t sound presumptuous, it’s just how we all feel, I think. We have the same love for you and protective feeling and interest that we have for our own family members. It would make me nothing but happy, more than happy, to be even a small part of Prince Remin’s family. I’d be overjoyed. I’d be ecstatic. You’ve all been very kind to me so far, very kind. Very, um, friendly.” “My brothers are very fond of you,” Anosukinom said. “My queen likes you.” He grinned. “Even my king likes you.” Very fond of him? Really? “They’ve all been so friendly and so generous. And it’s such an honor to work for King Xio Voe. He’s been very good to me, very kind. Very fair.”

“Very fair,” Prince Remin murmured, the provocative velvet of his voice seductive, intoxicating. “Now there’s a Jacacean compliment.” “What will you do if there’s an accident and Tano becomes physically dependent?” “I will care for him.” Prince Remin’s voice was firm now, strong. “I will do whatever I can for him, myself. We will hire assistants. Tano’s comfort and happiness will always be a priority.” “No, you - - gods above, as if you don’t have enough to worry about,” Tano argued. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. It’s you that I’m worried about. Who will care for you, if I can’t?” Prince Remin was so terribly handsome when he frowned. “Tano, you’ve become disabled, and your first concern is my welfare?” “I’m sure that I’ll be fine. Where would I stay, in the clinic?” “You would be at home with me!” Shooting Tano an irritated look as if he were too exasperating to converse with, Prince Remin turned back to Anosukinom. “It would be my goal to continue on as normally as possible, while still creating positive alternatives to former routines which are no longer feasible. I have a great deal of training and experience in the area, and with Inanodu’s blessing, it would be my goal to keep Tano as healthy and comfortable and content as I can.” Anosukinom nodded. “What about children?” Prince Remin glanced at Tano. “What do you think?” “I don’t know,” Tano said honestly. Children? With Prince Remin? “You’d be a wonderful father.” Prince Remin laughed. “You’d be a wonderful father. And the bulk of their care would fall to you.” With a thoughtful look, Prince Remin gazed at Tano, so Tano just gazed back and let him think. “I never felt a strong yearning to have children. I spend so much energy taking care of the priesthood and the nation and,” he gestured, “this overgrown kid, that in my private life I tend to be selfish and pleasure-oriented. Rearing children involves a constant selflessness that I already exert enough of. Still, caretaking is one of your strengths, and I think that if we accepted the burden of child rearing, we’d excel at it.” “We will all assume,” Anosukinom said dryly, “that you referred to Extra.” Prince Remin snorted. “You know who I meant.” Tano marveled at this side of Prince Remin’s relationship with Anosukinom. They were very comfortable together, even to the point of flippancy and disrespect. He couldn’t disapprove of it, because Prince Remin would never treat Anosukinom incorrectly or badly. Anosukinom must enjoy it, and genuinely seemed to, judging

by that cheerful grin. There was a playfulness to Anosukinom that still left Tano breathless, but Prince Remin seemed to know just how to respond to it. Prince Remin was so good with people, so skilled at responding to their cues, so encouraging and inspiring, so firm and strict, so loving. “If you want children, you’ll take excellent care of them. And I would do everything that I could for them.” That was a promise he would always keep, no matter whom Prince Remin married. “If you get married, do you intend to keep working?” Anosukinom asked. Prince Remin didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, so that question had to be directed at Tano. “I do. Unless Prince Remin wants me not to. But I’d prefer to keep working. I have to honor my commitment to King Xio Voe.” “It will be difficult to balance Tano’s work schedule with my demands on his time. But he finds joy and fulfillment in his work, and I respect that. It is convenient that Tano is so close at hand inside the palace, and that will make it easier.” “What about money?” Anosukinom smoothed back Prince Rini’s hair; Prince Rini was beginning to look drowsy. Tano could only imagine what it felt like to be petted in Anosukinom’s lap. Money? “Oh, I make enough money. I’ll be fine,” Tano said. “Your humility is charming but senseless. Forgive me for disregarding your answer entirely,” Prince Remin said. “My wealth is more than sufficient. We will spend a great deal of it on oil. And imported ingredients. We will set aside Tano’s income to donate to charity. To fund meal programs, that sort of thing, I imagine. Tano is not accustomed to a lavish lifestyle, and the only thing I overspend on is my sex life, so I imagine that money will not be a source of strife in our marriage.” Anosukinom grinned. “As he’s just demonstrated, Remin likes to boss people around and get his own way. When he thinks that he’s right, he’ll only let it go when he’s forced into it. How do you plan to deal with that?” The way Anosukinom smiled at him made Tano smile back. “Prince Remin’s arrogance is very well-deserved. I don’t mind being told what to do. Most of the time, he’s right.” Prince Remin snorted. “And when he thinks that I’m wrong, he tells me all about it.” Well. Tano didn’t really like to tell other people that he thought that Prince Remin was wrong. “I don’t mind offering alternatives, sometimes.” Another snort. “He’s stubborn. He lets me get my own way when he wants to, and he puts his foot down when he wants to. If anyone is in charge of this relationship, it’s not me.” What? “Of course it’s you!”

Prince Remin shifted cozily against Tano’s side. “Does the sun control the moons? Do the moons hold dominion over the sun? Or do they work together, cooperating, taking turns?” Anosukinom coughed. “Extra doesn’t think that you’re making any sense.” “No, no, it makes perfect sense,” Tano said. He almost thought that he understood the - - no, well, maybe - - wait, he almost had it. “How do you settle disputes?” Anosukinom asked. “We usually agree to disagree,” Prince Remin said. “And then one of us gives in just to keep the peace.” “We don’t disagree,” Tano said. “Not really. I mean, if we do, we talk about it. But we don’t fight.” “Hmm.” Anosukinom’s expression was thoughtful, not exactly approving but not at all disapproving, either, as he peppered them with question after question. After some time he said, “Tell me about your sex life.” Their sex life? Tano had no idea how much detail would be appropriate. “It’s very rewarding,” Prince Remin said. “Of all of my partners, Tano’s my favorite. I would imagine that, married to Tano, I would probably spend half of every day having sex with him. On average. He’d have open access to the belas, and to anyone else he wants to partner with. As long as he’s willing to tell me about it, or do it in front of me, or let me join in one way or another, I have no problem with him having sex with anyone he likes.” His favorite? Truly? It didn’t seem at all fair for Prince Remin’s husband to have sex Prince Remin couldn’t engage in, but surely there were other ways for Prince Remin to participate. “Yes, it’s very rewarding,” Tano said. “Very fulfilling. Very exciting.” “You don’t foresee issues of jealousy, with only one of you partnering with other people?” Anosukinom caressed Prince Rini’s stomach. “Issues of resentment? Maybe you’ll push Tano to have sex with other men, so that you can live out your fantasies through him? Or maybe you’ll try to restrict his sex life so that he doesn’t get more than you? Or if you fight, Tano can run out and partner with other men to get back at you.” “That sounds terrible!” Tano hated the idea of their relationship turning so sour. “I don’t want to punish or taunt Prince Remin that way! If we have a disagreement about something, we should work it out between ourselves. It’s not fair to bring other people into it, or to use sex as some kind of revenge.”

“I like experiencing other men with and through Tano,” Prince Remin said. “I like for him to enjoy himself. I’ll be happy just getting laid at all, so I don’t think I’d push him. Tano has a very healthy outlook on sex. I don’t think that he’d use it as a weapon between us.” Anosukinom nodded, his gaze resting on Tano. Tano blinked a little, having trouble looking at him directly. “Remin holds a position of great authority. How will you support him? How will you represent him?” “I want to make sure that he’s taking care of himself.” Tano found his hand rubbing Prince Remin’s side. “I want to make sure that he’s well-fed, that he has time to relax, that he gets enough time with his family, that he sleeps well. I want to make sure that he doesn’t carry too much sexual tension. As for representing him, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to embarrass him. I’m not going to run around naked, slapping people and throwing dirt at passing carriages. I want to help him in the clinics and support the priests and do whatever I can. It’s important to me to represent him and the royal family well, so I’d dress however Prince Remin prefers and I’d learn whatever manners are appropriate.” “We have people on staff who will help you,” Prince Remin told him. “They spend time with new spouses, new members of the royal family, to coach them and refresh their social graces. There’s not a lot of work involved, it’s primarily conversations and a little practice to make new spouses feel more confident. They counseled the queen around the time of Anosukinom’s first marriage.” They probably hadn’t worked with Prince Bade or King Xio Voe at all. No doubt they were already superbly experienced in the social customs of royalty. It seemed a shame that Prince Remin wasn’t marrying royalty, but it only seemed right for Prince Remin to marry an Anorian. Prince Remin marrying a foreigner would be a real disappointment. “You’re a busy man. An important man with a lot of demands on your attention,” Anosukinom said to Prince Remin. “How are you going to dedicate time to your marriage? How can I be sure that you won’t neglect your husband?” That wasn’t fair. Tano didn’t dare say so aloud, but he couldn’t help thinking it. What sort of husband would complain about being neglected, while married to Prince Remin? Prince Remin’s time was spent in communing with the gods, worshipping Anosukinom, running the priesthood, leading the country, counseling Anorian citizens. If he didn’t have a lot of time left over for his husband, wasn’t that understandable? Tano would never think to fuss about something like that. Wasn’t just being married to Prince Remin good enough? And it wasn’t like Prince Remin would ever be geographically unavailable; his husband could just go to the temples and hang around and watch him there. Tano did. Feeling himself frown,

Tano wanted to warn Prince Remin’s husband not to dare to complain about not getting enough of Prince Remin’s time and attention. Tano knew that it would be wrong to interfere in Prince Remin’s marriage, but if Prince Remin ended up with someone who fussed at him or made him feel guilty, Tano might have to pull the man aside for a little chat. “I assume that we all understand that I would never neglect my husband sexually,” Prince Remin said. “I will find plenty of time to fulfill his sexual needs. As for the rest of our relationship, Tano and I both spend the majority of our time in the palace. We’ve made it a habit to spend lunchtime together. We can pop in on each other. We can easily send notes. I’m good at packing a great deal of significant emotional interaction into a brief conversation. It may be tricky to balance our work with our personal life. The real concern is that I will monopolize his time and make King Xio Voe’s meals suffer for it.” Tano found Anosukinom looking at him again. Head tipping to one side, Anosukinom studied him. “You’re very protective of my priest.” “Yes, Your Majesty. I can’t stand it when people treat him poorly. He’s dedicated himself in service to a better life for all of us, and he deserves respect for it.” “You know that Remin can’t leave the country. He’ll be here for the rest of his reign. If you go abroad, you’ll have to leave him behind.” “I wouldn’t go anywhere without him. I don’t want to go anywhere. Even if I - - not that I want this, I’m just saying - - even if I get fired, I want to stay in Orikodisata. I don’t want to be anywhere Prince Remin isn’t.” Remembering who he was speaking to, Tano hastily corrected himself. “Prince Remin and you, I mean.” “What if you’re invited to cook in Jacacea? What if my king wants you with him?” “I…” Was that really a possibility? Not just idle chatter? “I…” He’d promised to do his best for King Xio Voe. He’d pledged himself in service to his king. “I can’t leave Prince Remin. I mean, I don’t know, I guess if King Xio Voe needed me, I’d go, if it were just me, if Prince Remin were married to someone else. Not to stay, just for a trip, just for a short time. But if I were married to Prince Remin, I couldn’t go. I’d have to say no. If I were Prince Remin’s husband, I’d never leave his side. Marriage is a commitment, and what’s Prince Remin going to do if I’m in Jacacea? Who’s going to partner with him and feed him and massage him and share his bed at night?” Anosukinom looked at Prince Remin. “How do you feel about that?” “It doesn’t thrill me that Tano would reject an opportunity for career advancement for my sake. But Tano’s primary concern isn’t his career. He cooks for the love of cooking. He works in the palace to nurture and care for the Seven Siblings and our

family. Working in Seijaces would mean leaving the palace, leaving Orina Anoris, leaving you and me. It would mean honoring his commitment to King Xio Voe, yes, but he loves his king out of loyalty to you. He doesn’t care about making a name for himself or being highly ranked on some international list of chefs. He cares about his gods and his country. He cares about loving us through food. As he just said, no matter the circumstances, he’d only consider leaving for a short period.” “You can both be expected to live at least until the end of Remin’s reign, so questions about sudden death are unnecessary. What else, what else.” Anosukinom propped his chin on Prince Rini’s head, gazing upward thoughtfully. Prince Remin sighed, tucking his hair behind one ear. Tano had to smile at Prince Remin’s irritation. He felt privileged to be witness to these little moments of play between Prince Remin and Anosukinom. “Who would you want to perform the wedding ceremony?” Anosukinom asked. Prince Remin snorted. “As if you’d let anyone do it but yourself.” “Hmm. I suppose that I could use Xio Voe for the parts where I’d need to touch Tano.” Anosukinom frowned, and Prince Rini’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, silver and bright. “It displeases me not to be able to touch your husband.” “We must all accept the limitations of our lives,” Prince Remin said. “Even you.” Anosukinom scowled, shifting Prince Rini on his lap. As his frown faded, Prince Rini went back to sleep. “What are your goals? For your life and for your marriage?” Prince Remin didn’t pause for reflection. “My life goals are to serve the gods to the best of my ability, to serve Orina Anoris to the best of my ability, to honor the blessings the gods have given me, to bring Anorians and their gods closer, to lead the priests and the country well, and to leave the role of royal high priest in better hands than mine. To do everything I can for you. And to once again, before I complete my life, enjoy uninhibited penetrative sex with another man. My marriage goals are simply to share my life with someone I love, to celebrate in his joys and ease his burdens, to mesh and complement where we can and respect our differences when our paths or interests diverge. And to have a lot of sex. I want to marry someone who fits me sexually and spiritually, who will both suck my dick and worship Anosukinom with great enthusiasm, and Tano meets those expectations perfectly. Tano makes me happy, and I want to make him happy.” Tano had to smile at that. Anosukinom’s laughter reminded Tano of bells. Or had bells just chimed while Anosukinom was laughing? “Good to know that I’m as inspiring as a good blowjob. What about you, Tano, what are your life and marriage goals?”

“I just want to cook well,” Tano admitted. “And honor the gods. And honor the Seven Siblings. If I were ever blessed enough to be able to marry Prince Remin, I’d want to make sure that I improved his life, somehow. I’d want him to be sure of my love, so that he’d never doubt himself or question whether he were a good husband. I’d want to take care of him, so that he could share his problems with me and let me help him.” “How far would you go to please Remin?” “As far as I can.” “What does that mean?” Anosukinom asked. “You would make an effort for him? You would break the law for him? You would go against the gods for him?” “Of course not!” What an awful, ludicrous idea! “I’d do my best. I’d inconvenience myself, certainly. But it would never serve Prince Remin well to do anything illegal. Going against the gods, that’s unthinkable. And it couldn’t possibly be in Prince Remin’s best interests.” “He doesn’t always do what I want,” Prince Remin said. “He always does what he thinks is best for me. He’ll do anything I ask, that he thinks will benefit me. If I ask him to do something he doesn’t think is best for me, he’ll refuse to do it. Apparently, he won’t break the law for me, but he will step in front of a runaway horse.” “If there’s a law that’s so inconvenient you need it to be broken, then it’s a law that should be reexamined and changed,” Tano said. Anosukinom smiled. “I agree.” Charmed by Anosukinom’s smile, Tano smiled back. “I don’t need to ask about your sexual compatibility. I’ve felt Remin’s erotic ecstasy shuddering through the palace walls. I couldn’t have crafted a better sexual partner for my lust-wild brother. The sensual joys you will share with each other are exquisite.” Anosukinom stroked Prince Rini’s shoulder, kissing his cheek; Prince Rini snuggled closer. Anosukinom asked them more questions - - which began to feel increasingly random - -until he finally said, “Well, whether this is a test or a genuine interview, you’re very well-suited to each other. On behalf of Ilanosa, I give you my blessing. Anoremin, Naritano, if you’d like to get married to each other, I will be glad to perform the ceremony.” The - - uh - - he - - what?! Perplexed, Tano stared at Anosukinom.

“I won’t consider your engagement official until you’ve made some offering,” Anosukinom said. “And it is very difficult for me not to say more than that, so you’ll excuse me.” With that, Anosukinom vanished, taking Prince Rini with him. A butterfly passed the empty grass where Anosukinom had just been. What the. Had. What? Really? Was it - - no. No. Tano couldn’t - - but his heart - oh, gods above. Afraid to look at Prince Remin, not sure what to say, not sure what to think, not even sure how he felt, needing Prince Remin to react first, Tano just closed his eyes, trying to keep it all in. Anosukinom had just said something that could change Tano’s life forever, something which - - in an instant - - turned all of Tano’s far-fetched dreams into very tangible reality. But Prince Remin had the power to, so easily, turn it all back into fantasy again, with just a word, just a breath. And Tano wasn’t going to be able to speak, or think clearly, or live, until he knew Prince Remin’s response. “Now?” The most tender of kisses graced Tano’s cheek, and his heart quivered in his chest. Prince Remin nuzzled his ear, whispering in that deliciously seductive tone Prince Remin didn’t even seem to use deliberately. “Now will you believe that you’re my husband?” What? His head snapping up, Tano stared at Prince Remin. “Now? Then you - but you - - you were serious? You were serious! Were you serious? In the office, at the clinic, when you said - - I thought - - did you mean it?!” He couldn’t possibly - “Did you know? Am I? Is it - - am I your husband?” Prince Remin’s eyebrows quirked. “I’m in love with you, something I’ve never experienced with anyone else. You’re very much in love with me. We get along splendidly, we seek each other out to the detriment of other aspects of our lives, we greatly enjoy each other’s company even in the middle of an argument, we have very similar priorities, and we cannot wait to have sex with each other. We’ve already built a strong relationship and can’t imagine it being the same with anyone else. We want to spend the rest of our lives together. We just made it through an engagement interview, and the guy who conducted the interview, who just happens to know far more than either one of us, who just happens to have my happiness in mind, suggested that he’d like to perform our wedding ceremony. He thinks that you’d make a good husband for me. I want you to be my husband. I know in my heart that you are my husband. Ilanosa’s already approved. The only question left is, do you want to marry me?” Dropping light kisses at the corner of Tano’s mouth, his eyes impossibly golden, his voice soft and teasing and full of promise, Prince Remin smiled and whispered, “Tano. Will you marry me?” Startled, Anikira looked up. Had someone just screamed?

Remin fell back, laughing. Unintelligible as that shriek of happiness had been, he would accept it as a yes. “Yes!” Tano shouted, climbing over him, gripping his shirt. “Yes! Yes! Are you kidding me? Are you, what do you mean, will I - - yes! Of course I will! Every day of my life, every - - can we do it now? Gods above, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?! Am I your husband? You want to marry me? I get giddy when you want to talk to me!” “I tried to tell you! But you were so sure that it wasn’t you, I was never going to get anywhere until I could prove it. And I knew, but I didn’t know. I felt it, but I didn’t have proof. I didn’t want to convince you that you were mine, only to have to break your heart if Ilanosa didn’t agree.” Gazing up at Tano, Remin felt love fluttering through him, felt warmth and desire and gratitude. Raising his hand, caressing the beloved lines of Tano’s face, he smiled. His husband. “I love you.” Tano’s eyes widened. “You - - you’ve been saying that, but I thought, I tried not to believe - - did you - - you meant it? That way? You love me the way you love your husband? I am your husband!” Shaking his head, Tano ran his hands over Remin’s sides in confused, needy agitation. “I thought that I was just, you know, that it was like when you love the boyfriend that you eventually break up with before you find the actual person you’ll marry. Gods above, I have to turn all of my thoughts around. ” “Let’s go back. Come home with me,” Remin urged, tugging Tano to his mouth for soft, seeking kisses. “I want to pay tribute to Ilanosa at home, in the palace.” The sooner they did it, the sooner they could get married. This couldn’t possibly, surely - - “Is this actually happening?” “Don’t you know that the gods love you so much more than you love them?” Remin asked, stroking Tano’s cheek, touching his thumb to Tano’s lips. “You were brought home for a reason, Naritano. It wasn’t only because Anosukinom’s new husband wanted a chef. It was because Anosukinom’s priest needed love. I wasn’t smart enough to understand what I felt when I met you, but you were. You knew that we were meant to be together. You recognized what you felt for me. Let me share in that love, Tano. Let me love you as you love me.” “You’re in love with me?” Tano sounded awestruck; he was gazing down at Remin as if he couldn’t entirely accept what he saw. “I didn’t think - - I wanted it to be true, but it couldn’t ever be real, so I tried not to think about it. I mean, we all wish that it would rain cupcakes someday, but we don’t expect it to happen, it’s just some beautiful fantasy. You’re the most beautiful fantasy my brain ever conceived of.”

Tano sucked in a shuddering breath, his hands shaking as they slid beneath Remin’s shirt. Remin shifted sinuously at the press of Tano’s hands, and Tano gasped, staring down in helpless fascination. “I love you so much. I thought that it could only ever be a dream.” “I do love you, and for so many reasons. You feed me, physically and emotionally. You take care of both my body and my spirit. You make my life so much better just by being in it. I love being with you and talking with you, I love how you think, I love your priorities and values, I love that you ramble and that you’re long-winded and that you don’t mind that I am, too. I spend all day thinking of you and when I’m with you, I can’t get enough of you. Tano, when I walk into your kitchen and see you standing there glowing in the firelight, I stand there and I take in the sight of you and the smell of your cooking, and the stress of the day melts away and my hearts fills with love. I can be in the palace all day, but at that moment, I feel like I’ve come home. I love you.” “I-” Tano’s voice caught in his throat. “I love you, too. I never thought, it never - - I can’t believe this. This kind of miracle, this kind of blessing, I don’t know what to say.” Remin’s fingers trailed down the side of Tano’s neck, eliciting a shiver. “The gods have been exceedingly generous with me. I have been granted many gifts, but your friendship, your love, your presence in my life, has been one of the best.” Closing his eyes, Tano whispered to the gods, sinking across Remin, his face on Remin’s chest. Threading his fingers through Tano’s hair, Remin quietly joined in his prayers, caressing the back of his neck as the wetness of Tano’s tears stained Remin’s shirt. Aw. Touched, Kudorin smiled. “I like Tano.” He had to approve of anyone who started praying in thanks to the gods for Remin’s love. And in thanks for a new job. And in thanks for dinner being well-received. And in thanks for a nice shower in the morning. Hmm. “He prays a lot.” “I couldn’t believe how mean you two were being! Tricking him like that! I’m glad that it worked out, because I was going to have to be really mad at you. But it worked out, right? They’re getting engaged?” Rini bounced around the bedroom, poking through Anikira’s trunks. Half of the things he pocketed, Kudorin put back. “Yes.” Rini grinned, straightening. “So they can have sex soon?” Kudorin grinned back at him. “Yes.”

“Whoo!” Clapping, Rini bounced to the next trunk. “Finally! Oh, hey!” Rini looked up happily. “Can I tell Anosanim?” “We’ll let Remin and Tano tell them.” It was tempting, though; Kudorin loved spreading happiness. Rini pointed at him in warning. “If I can’t tell Anosanim, you can’t tell Xio Voe.” But he told Xio Voe everything! He had to share this! “Can I tell Anikira?” With a quick breath, Rini headed for the door. “Not if I get there first!” Racing away, Rini raised his voice. “And no cheating!” Being omnipotent wasn’t cheating. It was a natural advantage. Besides, it wouldn’t look very dignified if he ran around racing Rini. Although, if he started now, he might still win. Laughing, Kudorin ran off after Rini. Prince Remin loved him. Really loved him. Wanted to marry him. Prince Remin wanted to marry him. He was Prince Remin’s husband. Had been, all along. He was the one who would get to be with Prince Remin forever, sharing in Prince Remin’s life. Sharing lovesex and celebrating milestones and just being together, through the everyday trivialities of life. The gods had to have meant for this to be, or Anosukinom wouldn’t have approved it. Which meant that this was his destiny. The gods thought that he was a good match for their golden child, their son and prince, their royal high priest. He was going to marry the man who served the gods. It was hard to accept. Hard to trap in his thoughts. It was too grand, too thrilling, too magnificent. The gods were dropping a miracle into his lap, and he just couldn’t get used to it. Was this really his life, his future? Had this gift really been meant for him? He loved Prince Remin so very, very much. He’d been enraptured the first time Prince Remin had walked into his kitchen. He remembered their first talk in the temples. Those eyes. That voice. He’d felt as if he’d stumbled across someone who held the key to his heart. Apparently, he had. Marriage. Such a permanent commitment.

The idea of it didn’t raise any anxiety. Remin was used to commitment, to making difficult decisions, to thinking long-term. He was a good judge of character - - he had to be - - and he knew Tano very well. He knew how well they complemented each other; he knew how compatible they were. He’d already chosen Tano for himself, already decided to do whatever he could to keep their lives entwined. And now he had the added security of Kudorin’s blessing. Ilanosa’s blessing. If there were any concerns about his relationship with Tano, he’d be the problem behind them, not Tano. Tano was a far better partner for him than he was for Tano. He was used to being in charge, used to getting his own way, used to the privileges of wealth, power, title, and divine birth. The main people who ever made any effort to keep him humble these days were Kudorin and Anikira, but the primary thing holding him in check was his own sense of perspective. His sense of duty and responsibility. Remin carried the burdens of his title, the realities of the consequences of his decisions, the possible negative repercussions for his every move, wherever he went, because those were what kept him weighted down. Those were what held him so firmly in check. He’d seen, around him and throughout history, what happened to people with power, to people who believed that they spoke for the gods, when they stopped answering to the people they served. He didn’t want that for himself. He couldn’t do that to Orina Anoris. Maybe that was part of what appealed to him so much about Tano. Tano loved him and trusted him and believed in him. Tano also told him no. Tano wasn’t too impressed by his golden eyes and fancy palace to refuse him for his own good. Tano wouldn’t let him get away with anything unethical. A very wide streak of integrity ran through Tano, and Remin liked that. Also, wherever Tano was, delicious meals and snacks soon appeared, and Remin liked that, too. Remin grinned at how very happy the thought of his own marriage made him. For the first time in his life, because of Tano, the idea of marriage seemed fun. With a snort, Sebado dropped two cards on the pile. Eyeing the cards in his hand, Selorin licked his lips thoughtfully. “Give me one.” Tearing his gaze from Selorin’s mouth, Bade handed over a card from the stack. Gracefully plucking the card from Bade’s grasp, Selorin examined it, then dropped it on the pile with a flick of his wrist. “Desin?” Desin grunted and dropped a card. “Your turn.” “Hmm.” Orinakin considered his hand.

While Orinakin strategized, Bade considered the situation. Well, not the situation so much as the players. He was used to Selorin and Orinakin approaching things in the same way. Strategizing, analyzing, being considerate - - their minds, their gestures, were very similar. What he wasn’t used to was anyone else at the table being like Desin. From the crop of family members currently living in the royal palace, no one else was anything like Desin. Friendly and flirtatious, sure, but there was a certain physicality to Desin, a matter-of-fact candor, that Bade didn’t get from, say, Anosanim. Desin was blunt, bold, confident, and very casual. Far more casual than the rest of the family. Even Selorin’s seemingly casual gestures carried a studied grace. There was nothing manipulative about Desin, nothing practiced or artful. He just was. Sebado was like that, too. Bade found it interesting to be around them. Maybe that unschooled bluntness was part of why Sebado appealed to Desin. Maybe it was refreshing to be around someone who lacked the frills and subtle graces of Desin’s brothers. Not that Sebado was crass or ignorant, but Remin talked in metaphors and Selorin talked in circles and Talin talked in layers. Desin just said what he thought, and so did Sebado. Desin worked with a lot of commoners. Had that affected his mentality? Anosanim worked with a lot of commoners, too, though. Desin’s mind fascinated Bade. He knew so much about animals and crops and the weather, knew so much about fishing and birthing and growing, knew so much about math and trade and accounting, that he was as good as an entire Jacacean university worth of knowledge. But for the most part, he seemed to operate on the level of: sex good, more sex. It wasOrinakin snickered. Caught, blushing, Bade snuck a peek to see if - - oh, yes, Orinakin was laughing at him. Red with embarrassment, Bade pretended to study his cards. “Would the two of you care to share something with the rest of us?” Selorin asked. Then he reached over and picked up a card from the pile, putting it back into Desin’s hand. “Don’t cheat, Ebutadesin.” “I’m not cheating,” Desin muttered, arranging his cards. “The-” “And don’t lie.” Desin rolled his eyes. “This game was so much more fun with Remin.” “How does he play it?” Sebado asked.

Orinakin flashed a gorgeous smile. “For every card you discard, you remove an article of clothing.” Laughing, Sebado didn’t even sound surprised. It always shocked Bade, how wellknown and accepted Remin’s reputation was. A royal high priest acting a fraction so sexually in Nosupolis would’ve been an eternal scandal. “That would get people naked fast.” “It only gets more interesting after that,” Selorin said. “We could play it according to his rules now, but I don’t think that Orinakin would appreciate us taking those sorts of liberties with his husband.” “We’ll get some people together and try it later,” Desin told Sebado. “We’ll need two paddles and a carrot.” What? Had he just said “a carrot?” “Tano!” Spotting him crossing the field, Rini ran over to catch him in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! I’m so glad that Remin stopped being so stupid and figured everything out! When is the wedding going to be? Are you excited? This is so much fun! I didn’t think that Remin was ready to get married at all, but you’re so great!” “Thank you! I’m still so amazed, I can’t believe it, it doesn’t seem like it’ll ever seem real. Did you - - did you know?” “We all knew! Me and all of my brothers.” Rini grinned at Tano, then hugged him again. “Kudorin told us, but it was so obvious! Come on, you’re hot as shit and you’re a chef! Anosanim’s going to freak out when he hears that you’re getting engaged, he’s been so afraid of giving it all away that he hasn’t gone near you. It’ll be fun sharing belas with you! Where’s Remin?” “Oh, um, Prince Remin went to the temple to speak with the priests. He wants to return to Orikodisata, so I’m going to make something to eat in the carriage along the way.” Hunh. “I keep wanting to say that you cook too much, or too often, or something, but Talin and Anosanim are always sketching and decorating and everything, so I guess it makes sense. You’re leaving today? That sucks. I guess Xio Voe’s going to be glad to see you get back. I’m glad that you got to visit, though. It was great to see you, and I know how happy Kudorin is that you’re getting engaged.” Tano still looked kind of awed. “Thank you, Your Highness. It-”

No, “No, just call me Extra. We’re family, we’re brothers now! My brothers don’t address me with my title, that would be silly.” For a moment, Tano just looked at him. Then Tano shook his head. “I’m sorry, Prince Rini, I can’t do that.” Hmm. Well, “I’ll just convince you later. Can I help you cook?” “No! You’re a gift from the gods.” “But you think that cooking for people is taking care of them, right? And that feeding people is loving them? I’m full of love! Giving people food is like giving them gifts of love, and all I do is give presents! You have to let me help. It’s okay, I won’t cut myself or anything.” Stepping down into the temple, Kudorin sat in front of Remin and waited. Gazing at Remin’s still face, he smiled, his love filling the room. This face he loved so much. The rise of Remin’s cheekbones, the curve of Remin’s lips, the way Remin’s lashes seemed to have been dipped in gold. His best friend. His confidant and counselor and right hand. Gradually, Remin’s eyes opened. He looked at Kudorin as if not entirely sure that what he saw could be real, and then he gave a quick blink. “Anosukinom.” Taking Remin’s hands in his, Kudorin warmed them with a kiss. “Inanodat. It is a good day, a happy day.” “A happy day, indeed. Thank you for your support and your encouragement. Thank you for your undying love. You guided me to this place where I could embrace my husband as my own.” “It is good to see you so happy and so deeply in love. He’s the right one for you, Inanodat. I fear for the fate of my people if you are as ignorant in domestic matters as you are in recognizing your own husband, but I’m glad that you’re happy with him.” “He’s so good, Kudorin. And he loves me so much.” Remin looked down at their joined hands, then met Kudorin’s eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt him badly. Day-to-day misunderstandings and occasional spats are to be expected, but true pain, betrayal, he would never deserve that.” “Why do you look ahead and see the potential for pain, Inanodat? Why do you seek to prevent harm that may never come? Look into your future and see love. See the fulfillment and joy that come from a content marriage. Embrace the beauty of this moment. In all of the world, you found the one person best suited to you. He

knows you and loves you and is overjoyed at the notion of marriage to you. There is a miracle here, Anoremin.” “You’re right.” Remin’s smile was a flicker of secret bliss. “Ilanosa seems pleased.” Laughing, Kudorin kissed him. “Ilanosa is very pleased. All of the gods celebrate the joy of our favored priest. I will come home to be with you soon, and we will mark the occasion together.” When it came to sensual pleasures, Remin was a hedonist, but he was often selfless in the rest of his life. “I don’t want you to cut short your visit for me.” “But I wish to be with my brother and share in his time of joy. It pains me to be separated from you, Anoremin. As it soothes you to be with the gods, it soothes me to be with you.”

Part 273 Covering the muffins with a towel, Tano caught himself humming a song of praise. Prince Rini crouched down, looking in a low cupboard. “Where are the - - oh, hey, Remin.” Immediately, Tano looked up. Prince Remin strolled into the house with a relaxed gait and a predatory smile. In the instant that their eyes met, Tano’s heart pounded joyfully and Prince Remin sauntered right over to him. Mmm, “Oh, mmm,” Tano’s hands curled over Prince Remin’s hips as Prince Remin licked expertly into his mouth. This was, “Oh, aannhh,” yes, oh, Prince Remin. Tano leaned back against the counter, drawing Prince Remin more snugly against his body, and Prince Remin groaned that lusty, sexy groan, hands skimming down Tano’s chest in a way that made Tano arch, his nipples tight and wishing for Prince Remin’s touch. “So is that a no, you don’t know where the potatoes are?” Prince Rini asked. Tano would’ve answered, but his tongue had other things to do. The sensual pleasures of Prince Remin’s wet, sucking mouth made him groan, and Prince Remin’s hands rubbed over his hips, sliding back to his ass. “Come to bed with me.” The erotic textures of Prince Remin’s voice had Tano’s knees buckling, and that simple first word, “come,” sounded like a command he had to obey. Groaning at the aching throb between his legs, Tano clung to Prince Remin, feasting on Prince Remin’s seductive, deep kisses. “I want to undress you.” “Oh!” Prince Rini piped up cheerfully. “You two go ahead and work on that. I’ll clean up here.”

“Mmm.” Tano wanted to do whatever Prince Remin wanted. It all felt so good, sounded so good, that he felt as if he were drowning in erotic pleasures. Groaning into their kiss, he angled back towards the bedroom, Prince Remin steering him along. When Prince Remin unbuttoned his vest, Tano shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor as they crossed the threshold into the bedroom. “I want you,” Prince Remin whispered, and it sounded like a fantasy. Prince Remin’s hands were on his sides, on his chest, and Tano landed on the bed, eagerly drawing Prince Remin down with him, one hand reaching for a pillow to put between their bodies. “My husband.” Prince Remin’s hands were on his fly. “I want all of you.” Oh! Hastily abandoning the pillow, Tano quickly rolled them both over, pinning Prince Remin’s hands to the bed. “Your Highness.” He wanted that far too badly to linger in the moment; he distracted himself by kissing Prince Remin’s smooth neck. “Let me undress you.” “Unh, oh, Tano.” Prince Remin undulated against him, wrists pushing against his hands. The fluid rolling of Prince Remin’s hips rubbed Prince Remin’s hard-on against Tano’s thigh, and Tano groaned, gripping Prince Remin’s wrists more firmly as he struggled for self-control. “That’s right, yes.” Prince Remin’s face was flushed, those golden eyes hot with lust. “I love the way you feel against me.” Gods above, that breathy, urgent voice was going to destroy him. Keeping the upper hand with Prince Remin was a constant battle and usually meant relying on luck, but Tano clung to his self-control and tried to strategize. Then the realization that he was going to marry Prince Remin and spend the rest of his life satisfying Prince Remin’s sexual urges in the most intimate of ways hit him, and his mind fuzzed over as he stared down at Prince Remin in uncomprehending awe. Prince Remin, of course, immediately took advantage, and when Tano came back to the moment, Prince Remin was already yanking open his fly. Catching Prince Remin’s hands, Tano brought them to his mouth, kissing them, trying to plan ahead but getting lost in the smoothness of Prince Remin’s skin and the magnificence of Prince Remin’s eyes. “I love you so much.” He didn’t know why he was saying it; the words felt like they came from his soul, not his mouth. “I’d give anything to be with you.” “You don’t have to give anything, or do anything, or say anything.” Prince Remin pulled him down for a long, hungry kiss, and then Prince Remin was stroking his chest, squeezing his ass as if he were a sensual treasure. “Just let it happen. Just let me love you.”

Marriage. While Tano dozed, Remin lounged beside him, head on his chest, and thought. It would be simple to move Tano into his quarters, permanently. That wouldn’t be a problem at all. It would be inconvenient to have Tano jump out of bed early every morning to make Xio Voe’s breakfast. Remin would rather wake to a nice, refreshing round of lovesex than roll over just in time to watch Tano dash off. Xio Voe needed breakfast, though, and Tano had to make it. Remin couldn’t ask Tano to quit and stop cooking for Xio Voe; that wouldn’t be fair, when he knew how much the work meant to Tano. Xio Voe liked meals to be nice and fresh, so having Tano make it the night before and have Lo Ariside prep it for serving wouldn’t work well, either. Maybe Remin would just have to wake up earlier to get some good sex in before Tano got up. But he expected a lot of late nights of sex once he and Tano could really get into it; staying up all night and then trying to wake early wouldn’t last long. Maybe Tano could make breakfast for Xio Voe, then come back for morning sex? Come back with breakfast, and waken Remin with a delicious meal and some even more delicious lovesex? Being wakened every morning by breakfast in bed and sex with Tano sounded perfect. It also sounded just like the sort of thing Tano would do for him. He didn’t want to ask for it, because Remin enjoyed an extremely privileged lifestyle as it was, and he didn’t want to encourage his own husband - - not friend, not boyfriend, Tano was going to be his husband, and that concept still excited him - - to find new ways to pamper him. He also didn’t want to blur the lines between Tano’s roles in his life any further; Tano’s work in the palace and Tano’s relationship with Remin were distinct, and should be kept that way as much as possible. “Make me breakfast and serve it to me in bed so I can fuck you” - - which part of that was an aspect of Tano’s professional service and which part was an aspect of their marriage? The question made Remin want to fire Tano entirely, so that no one - - especially Tano - - ever had to wonder where the divide truly was. Maybe Tano could cook for Xio Voe on a volunteer basis, and not as an employee of the palace. But it wasn’t up to Remin to dictate Tano’s choices. Tano was a professional. If problems developed, Tano would address them, and Remin could interfere then. Marriage. Remin was going to stop dating immediately. He’d find other work for his dating secretaries, though; they deserved good opportunities. He’d let Tano find men to partner with in the course of daily life. He wanted Tano to bring the men to

him, so that he could watch. So that he could participate. But hearing about encounters second-hand, or letting Tano demonstrate on him after the fact, could also be fun. If Remin could, he’d partner casually with all sorts of men. Therefore, he saw no reason to limit Tano’s sexual activity just because his own was hindered. It didn’t seem fair to stop Tano from doing things he’d do himself if he could. If Tano weren’t interested, Remin wouldn’t insist, but Tano was very sexually enthusiastic. The primary concern arising from sexually open relationships - - at least in Orina Anoris - - was jealousy, but Remin trusted Tano. Tano was too honest and too loyal, too dedicated a man to disrupt their relationship for anyone else. They had to get back to the palace, to finalize their engagement. And then get married as soon as possible. If Kudorin or Ilanosa hadn’t already sent word to Remin’s parents, Remin would do so. Was there anyone else who had to be present? Xio Voe’s sisters and brothers, most likely. Vade. Maybe Tano would like to invite some of the chefs he’d worked with in Ilaeia and Vafiance. Remin tried to calculate how long it would take to get everyone assembled. He wanted to get married as soon as he could. Was their relationship ready? Had they developed the kind of rapport and intimacy which would carry them into marriage? Kudorin and Ilanosa had given approval, so what else did Remin need to work on? The day-to-day ordinariness of marriage might be the next challenge. The permanency of it could create a sort of claustrophobia. Being with the same person day in and day out, months turning into years, developed a lot of friction. Minor annoyances built into nearly unconquerable frustrations. Unaddressed or unresolved problems could balloon into deal-breakers. Remin had always enjoyed a certain amount of independence in his private life. Now there would be someone to negotiate with and plan everything around, forever. He couldn’t just make decision and act accordingly on his own; he had to factor Tano into every choice. Sex and food, his two greatest pleasures in life, would revolve around Tano. For the rest of his life. That was a tremendous commitment to one person. A person he hadn’t even known for very long. But Remin was ready. He trusted Tano. He trusted Kudorin and Ilanosa. He trusted himself. Things would work out. Marrying Tano would mean changing his life irrevocably, but it would be a good change. A positive one.

Rubbing his cheek against Tano’s skin, he smiled to himself. “Anoha Ilanosa. Thank you for bringing me my very own vinga. I will do my best to cherish this sacred gift.” Turning at the sound of Remin’s voice, Kudorin smiled. “You’re welcome, Inanodat.” “Unh.” He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Rolling over, Tano rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked fuzzily. Sitting beside him, dressed and groomed and looking like a fantasy, Prince Remin smiled. “Good afternoon.” “Prince Remin.” Glancing down, Tano confirmed that he still had his shorts on, then sat up, shoving his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, how long did I sleep?” “Not long, and you should call me Remin.” Prince Remin brushed three light kisses across Tano’s cheek and got up, long golden waves of his hair swinging below his waist. “I’ll send for the carriage while you finish waking up, and then we can say good-bye to Anosukinom.” Say good-bye to Anosukinom. Tano knew that Anosukinom cared about him regardless, but there was a big difference between being an everyday citizen and being in the royal family. Ordinarily, he’d just come and go, and hope for a glimpse of Anosukinom in between, but now he was expected to pay his respects to Anosukinom personally. He wondered how much time he’d get to spend around Anosukinom, as Prince Remin’s husband. “A lot.” What? Had he just - - had that been Anosukinom’s voice? Looking around quickly, getting up from the bed, Tano hoped that he hadn’t just imagined that. “Did you hear that?” Glancing around idly, Prince Remin shot him a curious look. “Hear what?” “It sounded like Anosukinom. Am I hearing things?” This close to the vision he’d had of Prince Remin coming to him in the kitchen, it might be a bad sign. “I hope that I’m not going to start hallucinating all of the time. That would be terrible. I just fumbled my way into a perfect life, and you’re in love with me, and we’re about to get engaged, and now I might be losing my mind. I hope that I can keep it together long enough to get married! Or should we stop now before we get engaged, so that you’re not trapped into marriage with someone who hears odd voices from

people who aren’t really there? They’re not bad voices, it seems harmless so far, but you never know where this stuff might go. I knew a guy in Vafiance-” “Tano!” “There!” While Prince Remin burst into laughter, Tano pointed around the room, trying to figure out where the voice had come from. “Did you hear that? Is that Anosukinom? Am I hearing things that don’t exist or not?” “Yes, it’s Anosukinom.” Curling an arm around his waist, Prince Remin laughed against his neck, making him shiver. Since Prince Remin stood so close, Tano hugged him. “Expect him to do that a lot. He loves to tease. Now that you’re officially about to join the family, he’ll find special joy in toying with you.” Prince Remin’s throaty chuckle coaxed Tano to press in closer. “Not the same unique joy I find in toying with you, but my games are a little different.” Saying good-bye near the carriage, Anikira hugged Tano. As soon as she stepped back, Kudorin embraced her from behind, holding onto both of her hands as if trying to capture the feeling of Tano through them. “I’m sorry to go back so soon,” Remin told her, kissing her cheek. “We miss you so much, I wish that I’d spent more time with you.” “No, I’m glad that I got to see you at all.” She loved how at ease he seemed, how comfortable he looked. How happy he obviously was. “You’re a busy man, and this is a time for you to be with Tano.” Casting a look at Tano, she grinned. “A guy who clearly enjoys your company.” Remin flashed her an absolutely mischievous smile. “I am a great deal of fun to be around.” Laughing, she hugged him, loving the peek of the young man she’d used to know. “So I’ve heard.” Holding Anikira close as the carriage rolled away, Kudorin sighed. He didn’t know how people bore it, sometimes. He could take being so far from Xio Voe, from his brothers, because they weren’t far away at all. But Rini, laughing and talking only two feet away from him, had no idea what Orinakin was doing, where Desin was, what Talin was thinking. The separation seemed unbearable. “People are so strong,” he murmured, lowering his face to the softness of Anikira’s hair. “Very much so,” she agreed, lifting her face. “We have to be.”

Exiting his laboratory, Xio Voe started for his office. As his secretary’s assistant rushed up to him, he didn’t bother to check his rapid, long-legged stride. “Report.” “Ah, Your Majesty.” Breathless, Undersecretary Mahohoni Ahane jogged along beside him. “Prince Anoremin’s carriage arrives.” The timing was satisfactory. “Inform Princes Orinakin and Anosanim.” They would tell the other three. Correcting his course, Xio Voe decided to welcome Prince Anoremin and Chef Naritano Pitok back to the palace. None of the royal high priest’s brothers would be notified in time to welcome the carriage, and Anosukinom would consider Xio Voe remiss in his brotherly duties if he permitted Anoremin to return home without a proper Anorian welcome of effusive embraces. Such soft lips. Caressing Prince Remin’s lips with a light touch, Tano wanted to kiss him again. The notion of kissing Prince Remin whenever he liked, whenever he pleased, sounded like unimaginable luxury. As Prince Remin shifted on his lap, he coaxed Prince Remin a little closer, loving the feel of Prince Remin’s weight across his thighs, Prince Remin’s warmth against his chest. Engaged to Prince Remin! He was already halfway engaged to Prince Remin! They’d make their tribute to Ilanosa, and then the greatest happiness in the world would be his. As much as he’d enjoyed their trip - - and he’d loved all of it, every step of it, every second of it, especially the parts where Prince Remin had kissed him and whispered “I love you” and nuzzled his ears - - praise the gods, he loved his life - he was glad to be going home. And the palace was home, truly was his home now. The royal palace, Anosukinom’s palace. He could live there for the rest of his life. His happy, exciting, perfect life with Prince Remin. He shouldn’t just toss the word “perfect” around for fun, but what did the word mean, really, if it wasn’t best used to describe Prince Remin, or anything involving Prince Remin? “Mmm. Tano.” Loving the sound of Prince Remin’s voice, so intimate and smooth, Tano gazed into his eyes, waiting for more words. Prince Remin’s smile dazzled him. “The faithful dog may wander, but he will find his way home again.” Oh. They’d reached the palace, then. Which meant that Prince Remin had to get up from his lap. “Okay.” He tried to take his hands from Prince Remin, and only succeeded in rubbing his palms over Prince Remin’s thighs and the light silk of Prince Remin’s pants.

With a pleased, breathy sound, Prince Remin whispered something, hand stretching briefly to the carriage door. And then Prince Remin kissed him, a gloriously sensual kiss, lingering over his mouth as if he were a delectable treat. “Oh, mmm, oh.” Groaning as Prince Remin’s hand slipped beneath his open vest to stroke his chest, Tano felt need and anticipation streak through him from each erotic stroke of Prince Remin’s tongue. He wanted that tongue to lick him, yes, everywhere. Lo Parimakima had threatened Bade with an examination, so he spent his spare time trying to prepare answers for questions about the post-war political reformations of pre-colonial - - wait, no, it was pre-war and post-colonial - - no, that was Lorbain, the test was going to be on Morrain - - great Grengar, he should’ve listened during his lessons instead of fantasizing about Orinakin. Wondering if he could reschedule some of his hosting duties and get Tasum to help him study, Bade headed towards his private quarters to change. Orinakin had suggested that he might want to wear some of his flashier jewels to greet the afternoon’s guests. People put off at being foisted off on a mere spouse instead of true Anorian royalty could sometimes be mollified if Bade gave signs of being important. Showing off enormous purple diamonds often helped. So did making casual reference to being in the confidence of - - depending on his audience - Orinakin, Kudorin, Xio Voe, the Emperor, the Sultan of Lorbain, and, on occasion, Remin. Not that he genuinely considered the Emperor a friend of any kind, but they were family, at least through marriage. Which was kind of funny, when he thought about it, and probably gave the King of Granete just one more reason to be nice to his father. Nearing the door to his quarters, Bade was muttering under his breath, reciting what little he remembered of a famous historical speech on pre-war political reformation, when the door suddenly opened and Orinakin bumped right into him. Falling a step back, Bade put out a hand to steady Orinakin. “Hi.” “Are you busy? Come with me.” Taking his hand, Orinakin kissed his cheek, tugging him along. “Remin’s back.” Remin! “With Tano? What happened? Has Kudorin told you anything?” “Kudorin’s been conspicuously silent. If he’s talking to anyone, it’s Xio Voe, and even I find that man notoriously difficult to read.” Bade didn’t want to worry, but why would Kudorin be quiet? It wasn’t raining, but Bade found that fact only marginally reassuring. “Being quiet means that he’s hiding something, right? Would he hide bad news from us? Or good news?”

“It depends on the circumstances. Although I don’t know why there would be bad news. If things took a sour turn between Remin and Tano, I’m sure that they can resolve whatever conflict’s arisen.” Lacing his fingers through Orinakin’s, Bade watched doves fly past. “I’m glad that Remin’s back. It’s been weird, having him and Kudorin and Extra away. It’s seemed so quiet and empty around here.” Which was probably an odd thing to say about such a busy, bustling place, but Kudorin and Remin and Extra were all such active people, such very public and involved figures, such a regular part of everyday palace life, that it was sort of lonely without them. “I wonder what it’s like for the imperial palace, when Xio Voe’s here,” Orinakin murmured thoughtfully. Bade pondered the question. Xio Voe wasn’t quite as noisy as Extra, but he was always so busy. “It must be less productive, for one thing.” “Less productive?” Orinakin repeated, chuckling. “In Jacacea? Unforgivable.” Mmm. Languidly pushing his hair back from his face, Remin let the carriage door fall open. Pleased by the sound of Tano still catching his breath, Remin permitted Bade to help him down. Stroking his fingers across Bade’s palm and shooting Orinakin a look, he bowed before Xio Voe. Running his tongue over his lips, he smirked at Bade’s soft, helpless moan. “Your Majesty.” “Prince Remin, welcome.” Xio Voe didn’t look happy to see him. Or particularly unhappy to see him. Or remotely interested in him at all. “I hope that you are prepared to return to your duties.” “I have a personal task to attend to, first, before I do anything else. It won’t take very long.” Not trusting himself not to take advantage of Bade, he hugged Orinakin. “It’s good to see you.” “You look greatly pleased with yourself.” Tucking his hair behind his ear, Orinakin smiled at him. “And you feel tremendously happy.” “We must talk, tonight.” He wanted to tell his brothers about his trip, wanted to show off Tano, wanted to celebrate. “Chef Naritano Pitok.” Tano scrambled out of the carriage, buttoning his vest and bowing deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty.” “If the royal high priest has no particular objection, I will expect you to resume your duties for tomorrow morning’s breakfast.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.” Walking his fingers up Tano’s muscular bicep, Remin wondered if Kudorin were pleased by Tano’s humble loyalty to Xio Voe. “I have no objection. I am grateful to you for permitting me to borrow your cook.” “Perhaps it is I who have been borrowing your cook,” Xio Voe suggested dryly. Mmm, yes. Tano was most definitely Remin’s. “If you’ll excuse us, Your Majesty, I’d like to take care of that personal matter before I go to my office.” Desiring more intimacy, Remin leaned in, licking Tano’s earlobe, sucking it tenderly. Pleased by Tano’s shudder, he tested the delicacy of Tano’s skin with his teeth before whispering, “Meet me in the temple.” “Yes, Prince Remin.” Tano met his eyes, and Tano’s smile was so delighted, Remin immediately smiled back, sharing in his joy, loving his happiness. “I love you,” Tano whispered, and of course Tano would say that right in front of everyone, right in front of Xio Voe. Because Tano loved him enough to be sure that loving him was a natural and obvious thing, something everyone and anyone could or should know about, something that should be as commonly understood as the blue of the sky, the green of the grass. Tano’s love for him was so present, so steadfast, so real, that Remin couldn’t help but respond to it. Couldn’t help but be moved by it, touched by it, overjoyed by it, inspired. “I love you, too. My vinga, my accialo, my truly beloved.” Attracted to the tempting pink of Tano’s mouth, loving the gladness of Tano’s smile, he kissed Tano, one hand rising to caress Tano’s nape as Tano kissed him back. Vinga? Accialo? Was it coincidence that Remin used those words? With this audience? The happiness and anticipation and desire and pleasure and unrestrained joy in the air created a thick perfume of bliss around Remin and Tano. There was also a pulsing beat of raw lust which only heightened as they kissed. It had been years since Orinakin had watched Remin in action, but he would’ve recognized that kiss anywhere. The naked eroticism, the bold lewdness, the sexual rhythm, it was all pure Remin. Orinakin’s natural empathy had been magnificently increased by the gods when he’d become the royal diplomat, a year after Remin had become celibate. He’d seen Remin kiss before, but he’d never felt it before. Not like this. He felt the stunned curiosity, awe, and amazement of everyone around. He felt Remin’s deep, primal craving, Remin’s hot, growling lust, a natural sexual hunger shocking in its

strength and insatiability. And he felt Tano’s passionate response, a perfect mirror of Remin’s throbbing need, a fire licking across his flesh. He’d known passionate people before. He’d encountered some strong emotions, some disproportionately intense responses. This lust, Remin’s lust, Tano’s lust, the passion they shared, was unique. Just being near it, Orinakin himself felt embarrassingly aroused, as if he should begin stripping off his own clothes, as if he should drag Bade against his body and seek the pleasure he so urgently needed. The promise of ecstasy which burned so exquisitely between Remin and Tano. But above all of that, beneath it all, around it and woven so tightly through it as to be nearly indistinguishable, permeating every other emotion like some overwhelming, undeniable force, was love. Tano’s love for Remin. Remin’s love for Tano. Their joy in each other, their lust for each other, it was all secondary to their love. Their love was so profound, their lust so powerful, the emotions in the air so acute, that Orinakin wanted to close his eyes and soak it all in, sort through it, explore the complexity of Remin and Tano’s romance. But closing his eyes was impossible, when the sight of Remin kissing Tano was so compelling. Bade’s fascinated lust and aroused, excited, flustered mental chatter were, as always, a delight. And from Xio Voe, Orinakin felt, hmm. Seeking it out, he dug beneath the bounty of Remin and Tano to find Xio Voe’s contentment. Like a pleased satisfaction. Apparently, the current state of affairs was agreeable to Xio Voe. He didn’t seem as turned on by the sight of Remin and Tano making out as everyone else was, but he wasn’t particularly disgusted by the display of affection, either, which was marked progress. If Xio Voe were to consider the qualities he sought in selecting a royal high priest, “shamelessly provocative” would not have been among them. Perhaps he failed to understand the wisdom of the gods in this matter. Anosukinom had been unusually quiet on the subject of Anoremin’s love life. Xio Voe had discarded the notion of attempting to puzzle out Anosukinom’s motives for being so reticent; experience had coached him on when the mental exercise was worthwhile and when the enigma of Anosukinom was beyond even his mental capacity. Ilanosa, however, was not quiet. At the moment, the reality of Anoremin and Naritano Pitok’s love was so apparent, Xio Voe might have entered it before the simple mathematical equation of “one and one are two” on a list of indisputable

facts. Anoremin was in love with Naritano, Naritano was in love with Anoremin, and their love flowed around them in glorious excess, an ecstatic celebration of romance and passion, a knot so strong it couldn’t be untangled. In acknowledgement of the moment, Xio Voe sent a silent prayer to Ilanosa in thanks and praise for the flourishing love granted to the royal high priest. Ah, shiefa. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Permitting a faint smile to cross his lips, Xio Voe agreed. It was rather inspiring. You should take credit. You brought Tano into the palace and put him in the kitchen where Remin was bound to find him. He hadn’t crafted Naritano to be such a skilled chef. He hadn’t inspired Naritano to travel abroad for an international culinary education. He hadn’t created the spark which flared so brightly between Naritano and Anoremin. No, credit went where it properly belonged, to the gods. Well, then. I’ll take credit. I did really well this time, didn’t I? With a ragged gasp, Naritano Pitok leaned back against the carriage wheel, hands gripping Anoremin’s waist, Anoremin’s shirt, with lusting desperation as Anoremin uttered an inappropriately sexual moan and undulated obscenely against him. Love flared out around them, love bright enough to shame the stars. Yes. Yes, indeed. The gods had done well. Oh! Oh! Where were they, where were they?! Dashing through the palace, Anosanim skidded to a halt in front of Remin’s office door. “Is he here?” he gasped, automatically patting his hair and smoothing his shirt. “Have you seen him?” “Prince Remin?” the guard asked. “He passed by a couple of minutes ago. Heading for one of the temples.” Oh! “Thank you!” So many temples to search! And where was everyone else? Hadn’t Talin received his note yet? With a protective hand over his necklaces, Anosanim sprinted off to check the temples. Remin hadn’t expected such an attentive audience for this ceremony. He hadn’t been able to shake Orinakin and Bade, Xio Voe had followed, Selorin had shown up, the priests were gathering, and citizens were joining the throng with curious whispers, drawn to the sight of the priests and royal family gathering together.

Not having privacy for this moment didn’t bother him. It was a very brief ceremony, and he understood the cultural importance of having such an important personal milestone witnessed by his peers and neighbors. It would mean having the news of his engagement leaked immediately, but that was fine. The sooner the engagement was announced, the sooner the marriage ceremony could take place. Anosanim dashed in, gasping and snuggling up to Selorin and conferring with Orinakin. Just as Remin wondered if he should wait for the rest of his brothers to appear, Desin arrived. Lifting Norisa from the floor, he waited as people stepped aside to let him pass. There was a small gap between Xio Voe and everyone else; only Bade was within poking distance. Desin, however, strode right up to stand beside Xio Voe, whispering something, peering at Remin. Anosanim was watching anxiously, bouncing in place slightly, toying with his hair, flashing excited smiles. The only one not present now was Talin, but should Remin wait for him? He might be busy. Remin certainly hadn’t expected so many people to observe the ceremony, and it would be silly to wait for someone who probably didn’t even know it was taking place. Besides which, this temple was precisely where Talin and Hitari had paid tribute to Ilanosa, and Remin didn’t want Talin to suffer painful memories on his account. Tano stepped into the temple and then stepped back, staring around in bafflement. He clearly hadn’t expected this audience any more than Remin had. When his gaze flew to Remin, Remin smiled, gesturing him closer. Clutching a bottle to his chest, he skirted the crowd, approaching the altar. “Hey.” Taking his hand with a smile, Remin drew him closer. “Hey.” Tano hugged him, and he closed his eyes, loving Tano’s embrace. Was it his imagination, or had Anosanim’s romantic sigh really been that audible? “Are you ready?” He whispered the question, already knowing the answer but wanting there to be no doubt, not a flicker of uncertainty between them. “Yes.” Tano’s embrace tightened. “Yes, I’m ready. I’m so ready, I couldn’t be more ready right now if I’d been practicing this five hours a day for all of my life. I couldn’t be more ready if I’d been born right here on this altar.” Chuckling, Remin kissed him, stepping back. With a deep breath, holding onto Tano’s hand, Remin closed his eyes and quietly began to pray. A hush fell over the temple. Raising his voice slightly, Remin prayed to Ilanosa, to all of the gods, praising them, giving thanks, letting the words flow through him, words from his heart, words for Tano’s ears, words his audience needed to hear. Opening his eyes, finding Tano staring at him in open captivation, he blessed Tano, making the sign to the gods, kissing Tano’s forehead. The words, “I love

you,” fell from his lips with his next breath, and then he stepped back, feeling peace in his heart, ready for the ceremony now. As he looked over the crowd again, finding everyone staring at him with rapt attention, he saw an unmistakable column of red beside Anosanim’s streak of orange. Talin. Glad to see him there, touched by his presence, Remin smiled, and Talin grinned back, an arm around Anosanim. Remin was ready. It was time. Shushing the country, Kudorin left his body behind, perching unseen atop the altar. The love in the temple, the hope, the anticipation, his beloved Anoremin; he couldn’t miss this moment. Reaching out across the land, he shared his love and his joy across Orina Anoris, letting his people understand that it was a day of kindness, of peace, of celebration. It felt right. There was no flutter of wonder in Remin’s heart, only purpose and confidence and gratitude for this wondrous blessing. Only love for Tano. “We thank you and we praise you, Ilanosa, for your blessing on this day.” As he said the words, he placed a bottle on the altar. The bottle was crystal, extravagantly cut, with a solid gold stopper. Within was faintly scented and outrageously expensive oil of a kind only used by people who, like Remin and the Sultan of Lorbain, spent more on their sex lives than most people spent on food and clothing. Feeling something pass through his perception, like the whisper of a breeze or a brush of Kudorin’s aura, Remin made the sign to the gods. “We thank you and we praise you, Ilanosa, for your blessing on this day.” His voice hushed with reverence, Tano set a bottle on the altar alongside Remin’s. A bottle of cooking oil, it was made of elegantly shaped glass. Making the sign to the gods, Tano lowered his head. “Anoha Ilanosa,” Remin murmured. “Anoha Anosukinom.” “Anoha Ilanosa,” Tano repeated, the words echoed by their audience. “Anoha Anosukinom.” And so they were engaged. His priest had found love. Found a partner, a husband. Tano’s love, this relationship, would buoy and support Remin, inspire Remin, give Kudorin’s people a better leader, a stronger priest, a more empathetic ruler. Tano would heighten

and focus Remin’s faith, would intensify Remin’s energy, would bring contentment and spiritual, physical, emotional satisfaction which Remin had lacked. Tano was good for Remin. Good for Orina Anoris. And Remin, ah, Anoremin. “We are with you, Inanodat. Our golden child. Our blessed one.” Kudorin sent his affection to Remin, into Remin’s soul. “We love you, Anosatim.” Inhaling, Remin felt Anosukinom’s love pour through him, healing and cleansing, invigorating and inspiring. Needing to share it with someone, he squeezed Tano’s hand. “I love you.” “I love you, I love you so much.” Tano’s embrace felt so good, so right; Remin loved Tano’s easy physical affection, Tano’s unhesitating touch. “We’re engaged. We just got engaged. Really engaged, like, this is happening, this is, gods above, I just got engaged to you.” “Yes.” Remin decided that fondling Tano’s ass at the altar in front of everyone might be inappropriate. “We’re engaged.” “What, oh, gods above.” And then, squeezing him even more tightly, Tano fell unusually silent. He was praying. Remin was sure of it. Tano was praying. Smiling, Remin watched everyone else over Tano’s shoulder, waiting for Tano to finish, perfectly content to wait right where he was. While people whispered and gestured and gossiped and left, Xio Voe nodded at Remin and then strode away, and the rest of Remin’s brothers swarmed forward. Remin gestured for them to wait a moment, and they halted a couple of feet away, impatient. “So. Congratulations,” Talin said. “Oh! Now, I know that Tano’s very traditional,” Anosanim said, “so I was thinking of a classic wedding. A very-” “How do you know that Tano’s very traditional?” Desin asked. “You’ve talked to him less than anyone else.” Anosanim rolled his eyes. “I pay attention. And Remin’s traditional, too, so it’ll be a nice theme, I think.” Tano shifted, so Remin let him go. Sticking very close, Tano turned a little, eyeing Remin’s brothers with uncharacteristic shyness. “Congratulations, Tano.” With a warm, kind smile, Orinakin hugged him. “Welcome to the family.” And then everyone was hugging, exclaiming, congratulating,

questioning. Without Kudorin and Rini there, Remin was struck by how very normal and quiet the rest of his brothers seemed. Yes, you’re all pretty boring without me. Hmm. A rush of heat, of wind, ruffled Remin’s hair, and then Kudorin hugged him, Kudorin’s real, live, physical form, infusing him with love and light and faith. “Congratulations, Inanodat.” “Oh! We’re here! I can’t believe that I missed it! I’m so happy for you! Anikira said to tell you she can’t wait to come home and celebrate your wedding. I can’t believe you’re engaged!” Hugging Tano, Rini bounced around and hugged Remin, too. “I’m so happy for you!” Nestling close to Kudorin, soaking up Kudorin’s love, Remin smiled at Tano. “Thank you, Anosukinom.” Kudorin kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome.” Engaged. He was engaged to Prince Remin. He was going to marry Prince Remin. They’d solidified it. They’d made it certain and real. In front of witnesses! Prince Remin had been away too long and had to check in with his assistants; Anosukinom went with him, stroking his hair as they strode away. Tano wondered if anyone else noticed that Anosukinom’s feet didn’t seem to touch the floor. Most of the other Seven Siblings had to attend to their duties, but they insisted that he spent the evening with them after dinner. He agreed, hoping that he could think of something interesting to talk about between now and then. Maybe they’d talk to him about Prince Remin! They’d known Prince Remin all of his life; they had to have stories to share. Prince Anosanim and Prince Rini stayed with him. Prince Anosanim wanted to talk about the wedding, and Prince Rini wanted to talk about, well, everything, as far as Tano could tell. Tano was so nervous and excited and overjoyed, he wanted to bake something. Maybe he could make dinner for Prince Remin and King Xio Voe. He didn’t have much time, but maybe“Oh, who’s that for?” At the sound of Prince Rini’s cheerful question, Tano noticed a messenger stepping up to them. A palace messenger. Assuming that the message would be for one of the princes, Tano was surprised when the messenger bowed to him. “Chef Pitok.” Taking the small envelope, Tano studied it, puzzled. “Thank you.”

“It’s from Xio Voe,” Prince Rini said. “Aw, are you in trouble?” Trouble?! Flustered, Tano hurriedly opened the envelope while Prince Anosanim scolded Prince Rini and tried to reassure him. King Xio Voe’s handwriting was so firm and sure and precise, Tano took a moment to admire it. Then he read the message. It was an invitation. “He wants me to join you for dinner. Tonight.” That couldn’t be right. “Maybe he wants me to make dinner tonight? Twitching the paper from his fingers, Prince Rini read over it. “He wants you to come to dinner!” “I’m certainly glad to hear that! It’s about time you dined with us. Now, what shall you wear?” Prince Anosanim asked, running delicate fingers through his hair. “You get to eat with us!” Prince Rini exclaimed. “That’ll be great! Remin will love it. Oh, I hope that you don’t get stuck sitting beside a jerk. Maybe we can put you beside one of us! Or beside Remin!” “I don’t know if I - - I’ve never dined with royalty,” Tano admitted, not feeling very sure about this. “You eat with Remin, don’t you?” Prince Rini asked. “You feed Remin by hand. You don’t have bad table manners, do you? As long as you don’t curse at anyone or stab anyone with your fork, you’ll be fine.” “It’ll be absolutely wonderful to dine with you,” Prince Anosanim said. “And if you’re uncomfortable or unsure for even a moment, just let one of us know, whoever’s closest to you, and we’ll help you through it.” “Let’s go dress you up!” Prince Rini suggested. “I love that you walk around the palace in shorts smaller than mine, but you can’t wear that to dinner. Or can you? We should try it! Maybe-” “No, no, that’s all right,” Tano said hastily. “I think that it would be more appropriate to dress a little more, um, modestly. Out of respect.” Clapping his hands together with a happy gasp, Prince Anosanim beamed at Tano. “I know just what you should wear! Come with me!” While Remin sat at his desk and skimmed through correspondence, sorting it into stacks according to relative urgency, Kudorin lounged on the couch. Remin’s office was rich with memory. All of the memories of past royal high priests, of course, but the room was vibrant with Remin’s recent escapades with Tano. All over the room, Kudorin found the two of them. Talking, lusting, eating,

kissing, groping. Falling in love. Kudorin fell into those memories, reliving each one, feeling Tano’s hands slide over his chest, hearing Remin’s moans of sensual delight, feeling Tano’s heart-pounding fascination, tasting Tano’s food, Tano’s kiss. Their love story was here, in his palace. In this office, in the kitchen, in Remin’s bed, in a little closet up in Tano’s apartment. Kudorin tugged at the strings of memory until their love spilled open, drenching the walls, saturating the air. Until everyone across the palace found himself, herself reminiscing, recalling a moment, a look, an overheard sentence passing between Remin and Tano. Until word of the engagement spread to every corner. Until everyone stopped to reflect upon what it meant, what it would be like, to have the royal high priest in love. Until everyone shared in Remin and Tano’s joy, in their love, in their engagement. Remin glanced at him. “You seem to be happy for me.” A smile. “The harp and flute duet is a nice touch.” Kudorin added bells. “You don’t know how absolutely excruciating it’s been, trying to avoid you! I’ve spent every single day simply aching to speak with you! I’ve had to rely on everyone else to let me know what’s been going on, and you can just imagine how horribly unsatisfying that’s been!” Buttoning up Tano’s shirt, Anosanim stepped back to take a good look. Oh, so wonderfully handsome! “I utterly adore your beautiful face. What do you think, Extra?” “I don’t know, my favorite part is helping him undress between outfits.” Instead of helping Anosanim to find clothes, Rini had chosen to sprawl lazily across the closet floor. “That looks good, though.” “Ugh!” Shuddering, Anosanim began to unbutton the shirt again. “Maybe a skirt would be a better choice. Or, oh, Extra, run and fetch me a pair of boots, please. Those black ones with the gold trim and the square heel that you never wear.” Rini grunted. “I think I lost them.” “Kuladin A Rini! Stop being lazy! This is Tano’s first dinner with the family, and it’s important for him to look nice! I don’t think that finding a pair of boots is too much to ask when we’re talking about Remin’s happiness, do you?” Sighing, Rini got up and wandered out of the room. “Now!” Anosanim smiled brightly at Tano, patting his, oh, very well-sculpted chest. “Start at the beginning, and tell me absolutely everything about yourself and Remin.”

Mild irritation prickled across Orinakin’s skin as he opened the door; Bade was agitated. Entering the apartment, he glanced around. He didn’t see Bade, but he felt a quick blush of shame, and then a flurry of numbers greeted him. Math. “Bade?” “You’re back! Extra said that Tano’s joining us for dinner.” Bade’s thoughts dove in a dozen directions at once, math overlaying everything, and his smile became strained at the edges. Completely at a loss, Orinakin put a hand on Bade’s arm, peering into his eyes. What was bothering him? Was it Tano? Remin’s engagement? Something else entirely? “Are you not happy that Remin’s engaged?” But no, that wasn’t right; that didn’t make any sense. Bade had been as excited and involved as the rest of them, had been looking forward to each stage of the relationship as Remin and Tano progressed towards marriage. He and Orinakin had talked just last night about what a shame it would be if the others felt left out, now that Orinakin and Kudorin and Remin would all be married; Orinakin hadn’t felt a hint of hesitance from Bade then, or any time before. And now that he’d asked outright, he felt Bade’s sincere surprise and rejection of the idea that he wouldn’t be happy for Remin. “Of course I’m happy for him! How could I not be happy, seeing him so happy? He loves Tano, they’re great together, I’ve never seen Remin like this.” That was certainly very sincere. Then what was wrong? “You’re going to have to talk to me.” Bade frowned, pulling away emotionally; immediately, Orinakin’s grip tightened on his arm. “Vinga. Whatever’s bothering you, just tell me. You know that as soon as you get it out and hear it aloud and speak with me, we’ll be able to sort it all out. Is it about Remin? About anything else?” Bade’s shame burned him. “It’s embarrassing. I’m just not…” Crossing his arms over his chest, Bade scowled at him, feeling defensive. “I’m not as Anorian as you are, yet, and I’m not used to this.” “Used to what?” Patient and loving, Orinakin just wanted to talk it over. He knew that whatever bothered Bade couldn’t be insurmountable. “It…” Blushing, Bade rubbed his forehead. “Extra said that Tano’s coming to dinner, and asked what I was going to wear. At first I thought that I would wear what I always wear, because it’s just Tano, why would I dress up for Tano? But he is Remin’s husband, or at least he will be. But he’s, he’s a servant, Orinakin. I don’t dine with servants.” “When did Vade arrive?” Selorin asked, lounging in the doorway. Sighing, Orinakin shot him a look. “Selorin.”

While Bade frowned at Selorin, his defensiveness quadrupled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I thought that Bade was the smart, modern, open-minded one, and Vade was the defensive, old-fashioned one who balked and resisted and argued against shocking, Anorian notions like treating servants as if they’re actually people.” Now it was Orinakin’s turn to frown at Selorin. “You’re not helping, and you’re not being fair.” “I’m not being fair?” Selorin repeated, as if it were an accusation he’d never heard of in his life. “I never said that servants weren’t people,” Bade snapped. “I never thought that servants weren’t people. But those of us who aren’t gloriously stamped by the gods at birth have to take certain measures to set ourselves above the common people to demonstrate our position as rulers. Sharing the table with servants as if we’re all of the same station in life only invites comparisons and assumptions which end in dethroning and revolt. It’s easy for you to live your life however you please and associate with whomever you wish, because no one can take your blue hair away from you. The edge of a sword can take my title from me, or my father’s from him.” When Bade spoke about his perception of how easily the throne could be lost, how simple revolution could be, how precarious a king’s position was, it always shook Orinakin, a little. It served to remind him how complacent he was in his own title, but how uncertain other people’s positions were. And it reminded him of why some rulers were so desperate to do anything which might help them cling to their thrones for just a little bit longer. Selorin looked ready to argue; Orinakin spoke up before he got another word out. “I understand well how important public perception is, and how easily public opinion can turn. Even here in Orina Anoris, we police our behavior in certain ways so as not to put an improper appearance or set an inappropriate example. However, as you alluded, the Seven Siblings rule by virtue of the gods’ favor, and are exceedingly unlikely to meet a successful challenge. We’re more free, here, to do as we like. But that means that you’re more free, as well. In Nosupolis, you probably won’t share a banquet table with the kitchen staff. But we’ll dine with Tano tonight. He is a servant, and he is Remin’s husband to be, both.” “I know.” Rubbing his forehead again, Bade sighed. “It’s just not something that I’m used to. It was just an odd thought I had. But I know that it’s not weird, here. And I’m happy for Remin, I really am, I’m happy for Tano, too. I’m not proud of myself for being,” he glanced at Selorin, “defensive and resistant to new ideas.”

“Yes, I know, I’m picking fights.” Selorin strolled into the room, putting an arm around Bade’s waist. “I didn’t mean to rile you.” Bade’s heart melted in one flash of Selorin’s charming smile. “You can’t characterize Vade as some relic of an older time who can’t accept change. He’s much more open-minded than I am, in some areas of life.” “Most of those areas of life relating to his sexual appetites, I believe.” Selorin smiled at Orinakin. “Go on and get ready for dinner, Orinakin. We’re dining with our royal high priest’s future husband tonight. This should be quite an entertaining occasion.”

Part 274 They’d known. All of this time, they’d known. It shouldn’t have surprised Tano that the children of the gods were privy to information he wasn’t, but the wonders of Anosukinom never ceased to amaze him. They’d recognized him as Prince Remin’s husband. Which was sort of funny, because now they were all used to the idea and took it for granted, while he, the actual husband-to-be, was still happily stunned by it. To be Prince Remin’s husband seemed like some impossible gift which surely had been delivered into the wrong hands. While dressing him in fine clothes - - some of which he liked very much, some of which he didn’t think was quite what he’d prefer, not that he’d mention that to Prince Anosanim, since who was he to reject such kindness and generosity from Anona’s favored child? - - Prince Anosanim told him about how excited the family had been about discovering Tano, and about how glad they all were for Prince Remin’s happiness, and about how difficult it had been to keep the secret. Prince Anosanim was such a friendly person, so warm and so good-natured, that Tano found himself confiding in Prince Anosanim, talking all about his past and his relationship with Prince Remin and everything else which came up. He felt, for all of Prince Anosanim’s glamour and title, as if he were catching up with an old friend. After pinning him into an elegant white gown with gold trim, Prince Anosanim burst into laughter and hugged him. Surprised, he hugged Prince Anosanim back, momentarily lost in a tumble of orange curls and the scent of flowers. Pulling back with a kind smile, Prince Anosanim adjusted the lace at his shoulder. “You absolutely hate it, don’t you?”

“No, no.” Which technically was true; he didn’t absolutely hate it. He just didn’t prefer it and would never have chosen to wear it. Well, maybe not never. If it were the only thing left in the world to wear, and his only alternative was frank nudity, he might choose it. Or, if it were Prince Remin’s favorite attire in all of the world, he’d wear it for Prince Remin. Or, if he could take off some of the lace. He liked the way King Xio Voe wore lace, those intricately designed panels of it snug to the body. This kind of lace, all fluffy, just seemed meant to get in his way. He’d probably flop some into the soup and ruin the gown. Oh, gods above, what if he spilled soup on himself at dinner? No, worse, what if he spilled soup on someone else at dinner? He could just imagine it, sitting there trying to make polite conversation, being introduced as Prince Remin’s fiancé, and then knocking a bowl of hot soup into someone’s lap. Whose lap would be the worst possible lap for that? King Xio Voe’s, maybe. No, Anosukinom’s! But he wouldn’t be seated near Anosukinom. He wondered who they’d place him near. He’d be at the same table as Prince Remin, though, and that was what mattered the most. “Let’s see.” Prince Anosanim began to unbutton the gown. “You used to wear conservative clothing. Modest, traditional. But then you started to wear all of those skimpy little things for Remin. You always look so comfortable in your clothing, you looked just as at home either way, which I thought was simply wonderful. What sorts of clothes do you like?” Looking around the closet, Tano tried to make an honest assessment. “Those black pants were nice.” “Yes! Oh, that’s absolutely perfect! Ilanosa’s color, Ilaeian style, let’s make the most of that! There’s a pair of black boots with a lovely little Ilaeian heel that should fit you, and we’ll need, oh, I have it! You wait right here, I’ll be back in just a second.” Kissing his cheek, Prince Anosanim fled. Unexpectedly left alone, Tano waited. He wondered what time it was, and how soon dinner would start. Sitting down, he began to pray, thanking the gods for the wonderful life they’d set before him, asking for their help and guidance. He wanted dinner to go well, wanted this transition in Prince Remin’s life to go smoothly, wanted Prince Remin’s family to accept him. He didn’t expect to be as important to the royal family as Queen Anikira and King Xio Voe were, and he didn’t expect to be as cherished and beloved as Prince Bade; he just hoped to fit in without conflict. The last thing he wanted was to cause any unpleasantness or friction in the royal family. He tried to think of people he’d known who hadn’t gotten along with their relatives, to plan for how to avoid problems. Then he asked the gods for their help and guidance in that, too. “You look so lost in thought, I hate to interrupt!”

Lurching to his feet at the sound of Prince Anosanim’s voice, Tano bowed hastily at the sight of Prince Talin just behind, carrying clothes and shoes. Before Tano could speak, Prince Talin said, “He wasn’t thinking, he was praying. He’s always praying. He puts bread into the oven and then stops to ask the gods to help it rise.” Prince Anosanim chuckled, then paused, looking hesitantly at Tano. “Do you really?” “Not every time,” Tano admitted. “But I do pray a lot. My grandmother told me to think of it like conversing, or communicating. The gods are constantly with me, providing me with things, helping me, assisting me, looking out for me. If that were a person, hanging out with you all day, giving you tips, handing you things, wouldn’t it be weird if you didn’t say anything back? If you just went around attending to business and ignoring them, when they’re right there being so helpful and friendly and interested in your welfare? How rude would that be? I’d hate to be that inconsiderate to another person, so I can’t be that rude to the gods! So I try to remember to acknowledge them.” “That’s absolutely wonderful!” Prince Anosanim pressed his hand, looking delighted. “What lovely perspective! Oh, no wonder Remin’s so fond of you!” “Do you need us to go so you can finish your conversation?” Prince Talin asked. “No, no,” Tano said hastily. “It’s fine, I was pretty much finished, anyway. I was just wondering, maybe you could suggest ways for me to fit in better. With the, uh, the rest of your family.” What a family. “It’s such a big change, isn’t it?” Prince Anosanim handed him a pair of pants, so he put them on. “Blending families, introducing new members. You have to give everyone a chance to get used to each other. Dynamics shift, everyone has to adjust. We’ll all need a little time to figure out our own personal relationships. Your relationship with Xio Voe and your relationship with Desin and your relationship with me will be drastically different. But it’ll all work out splendidly, I’m sure, utterly splendidly. Here, try these boots, let me see how they fit.” “It’ll be fine,” Prince Talin said, while Tano sat down to put on the boots. They were supple black leather with a higher heel than he was used to. “We all get along with you. We knew you were going to marry Remin, so no one’s taken by surprise. As long as you can put up with us, there’s nothing to worry about.” “Put up with you?” Tano repeated. That was an odd way - - no, a completely inappropriate and baffling way - - to phrase it. “Honestly, Talin, we’re not that bad. A little noisy, sometimes, but that’s just because there are, well, with Tano now, there will be a dozen of us!”

“We’re overly involved in each other’s lives,” Prince Talin said. “To phrase it politely.” “Nonsense,” Prince Anosanim said firmly. “Complete nonsense. We are involved in each other’s lives, as we should be.” “Right. As we should be,” Prince Talin repeated, rolling his eyes. He smirked at Tano. “Do you mind people watching you have sex?” “No,” Tano said. “Not at all, as long as I know that they’re there.” What did that - did he mean - - “You’re not going to want to watch, are you?” “Talin! Honestly, are you trying to embarrass him?” Helping Tano into a shirt, Prince Anosanim made exasperated noises. “We have absolutely no intention of intruding on your private life.” Prince Talin snorted so immediately after that sentence, so derisively, that Tano didn’t know whether to laugh or to be dismayed at the rudeness. Shooting Prince Talin a disapproving look, Prince Anosanim fiddled with Tano’s shirt, tugging here and there. “We certainly don’t want to give you unwanted attention or invade your privacy in ways which are unwelcome. If we ever make you uncomfortable, you be sure to let us know, or tell Remin. We have absolutely no boundaries between each other, but we’d never want to assume that same intimacy with you, if it makes you unhappy.” “I’m not shy,” Tano said. “I would be happy to share anything with you, although I don’t know what you’d find interesting.” “We’d find anything about you interesting! And it’s so nice to have another Anorian marry into the family. Bade and Xio Voe are utterly wonderful, we absolutely adore them, I simply can’t imagine what we’d do without them, but there has been a bit of a cultural adjustment. Nosupolis is a little more conservative, you know, in their ideas about, well, so many things. And Jacaceans aren’t very demonstrative or as, well, quite as in touch with their emotions, generally. Oh,” Prince Anosanim fanned himself, biting his lip, “I know, it’s dreadful of me to make statements like that, it doesn’t acknowledge the variety of-” “Bade’s skittish and Xio Voe’s standoffish,” Prince Talin said. “Anosanim wants to know if, once you’re married, you’ll let us touch your dick and watch you fuck Remin.” Oh! Was that all? “Of course, yes, I don’t mind. If Prince Remin doesn’t mind, that would be up to him, I can’t speak for him. But it’s fine with me.” With a delighted gasp, Prince Anosanim hugged him. “Naritano, Naritano. I’m so glad that Remin found you.”

Orinakin stepped into Anosanim’s apartment to find Talin sprawled carelessly on the sofa. Tano was seated before Anosanim’s vanity, Anosanim carefully lining his eyes. Tano’s pants, boots, and jacket were all black, modern Ilaeian fashions; his gauzy, light blue shirt was both Anorian and easily seen through. His blue and silver jewelry was all Rini’s. His hair had been styled in that tousled look Anosanim had said would be in fashion next season. Tano’s natural beauty had always been undeniable, but now he was stunning. Anosanim grinned at Orinakin, looking pleased. “Do you like it?” “I do.” The mood in the room was light, cheerful, with a slight flutter of Tano’s nerves. Orinakin had rarely known Tano to be nervous, and he wanted to help if he could. Tano was a generally a frank and honest person, so Orinakin decided to address him in a similar fashion. “We’re looking forward to dining with you tonight. We’ve been trying to keep our distance, to let your relationship with Remin develop without our interference, but we’re glad to spend more time with you. I hope that you don’t mind if I notice that you seem a little apprehensive. Is it about tonight?” “It’s so funny that you all keep talking about having to keep your distance all of this time, and I kept thinking how exciting it was to have the Seven Siblings around so often. I am a little nervous, about dinner tonight - - not freaked out or anything, I’m not going to start panicking and screaming and running around, I’m just kind of hoping for the best and wondering what’s the worst that could happen. As long as I don’t throw food directly onto Anosukinom, I guess that nothing too bad is going to happen. I mean, it’s just eating and talking, right? I’ve done both of those things before.” Tano’s confidence and optimism felt refreshing; Orinakin smiled, drawing nearer. “It sounds like you have everything well in hand, then. You’ll already know most of the people at the table. We’ll have a few guests tonight, as well. One of our cousins and her wife are in town, and I’ll introduce you to them before dinner starts. You’ll also be near His Excellency Ambassador Dorplanes and a religious leader from Morrain.” “His Excellency Ambassador Dorplanes,” Tano repeated to himself, as if trying to capture the information. “Would it be too much of an imposition if I asked you to tell me everything there is to know about them? Or at least enough to give me a good idea of how to talk to them? I don’t want to burst right into cheerful conversation about the weather if they just suffered some sort of horrible disastrous storm, or start talking about food if they’re suffering famine, or, I don’t know, now that I think about it, most conversations are full of potential disasters and insults. Like, a simple inquiry into someone’s family could come a day after a relative has

completed his life. It’s kind of amazing that we all manage to talk to each other without bruising each other’s feelings. And then, you might really want to talk about something that no one ever brings up, and you never get to discuss what you do want to talk about. I’m starting to think that we should all carry around introductory conversational cards listing three subjects we’d like to discuss and three subjects we want to avoid. Or should we all just bring everything up ahead of time, in warning? ‘Hi, my name’s Naritano, please ask me about food or my thrilling engagement to the most exciting man in the world, but don’t talk about, hunh.” Tano frowned, squinting a little. “I can’t think of anything that I don’t want to talk about.” Laughing, Anosanim caressed Tano’s cheek, beaming at Orinakin. “Isn’t he adorable? He’s so entertaining!” Agreeing, Orinakin decided to make sure that Tano was directly beside the religious leader. The man liked to listen, and would find sitting back while Tano chattered at him more pleasant than being forced into back-and-forth small talk with others. While Orinakin filled Tano in on their dinner guests, Anosanim brushed gloss over Tano’s lips, making them appear even fuller and pinker than usual. When Orinakin finished, Anosanim made a few more touches to Tano’s make-up, then declared him ready. Which was when sudden craving gnawed at Orinakin, need, lust, a rough throb of love. In the next instant, he heard Remin’s knock at the doorframe. “Have you seen Tano?” Prince Remin! “I’m here,” Tano said, already on his feet. “Tano.” Prince Remin’s hair was down and loose; his shirt had a high collar and he wore more jewelry than usual. In only a few steps, he’d crossed the room and swept Tano into a long, deep kiss. Intoxicated by his scent, Tano kissed him hungrily, fingers dragging through his hair. The slickness of Tano’s lip gloss smeared across Prince Remin’s lips, and Tano licked at it, nibbling lightly. “I love you,” Prince Remin whispered, his voice husky, sensual. “I need you.” Joy surging through him at Prince Remin’s words, Tano repeated, “I love you, I love you,” in softly voiced devotion. Shifting wantonly at the press of Prince Remin’s hands wandering his body, Tano kissed Prince Remin’s neck, nuzzling beneath the barrier of Prince Remin’s collar, licking fascinatingly smooth skin. With an exhilaratingly sexual groan, Prince Remin palmed Tano’s ass. “You ready for dinner?”

Dinner. Dinner! “Yeah,” Tano moaned, finding Prince Remin’s mouth for another deep, lusting kiss. He was ready for dinner. Ready for marriage. Ready to drop to his knees for Prince Remin’s dick. “Mmm, oh, Tano.” Prince Remin fingered his nipple, pinching it lightly, making him shudder with wanting. “Go with Orinakin. Go, unh, Orinakin.” A hand lightly gripped Tano’s elbow, guiding him away. For a moment, he moaned in protest, clinging to Prince Remin, his anchor, his beloved, his everything. But the hand insisted, and Prince Remin growled softly, kissing him hard but giving him a little push. Relenting, Tano broke their kiss with a reluctant moan, letting the hand draw him back. Panting with desire for Prince Remin, openly staring, he let Prince Orinakin tug him out of the apartment. Prince Remin held his gaze, whispering his name, lips red, hair mussed, one hand clenched into a fist. Aching, Tano let Prince Orinakin pull him away. Just as the door closed, he heard Prince Anosanim’s voice rise in protest. “Remin, you chewed off all of his lip gloss!” The happiness in the room was exhilarating. Kudorin looked around the dinner table, enjoying his family’s contentment. His brothers were excited, pleased, and kept sending each other significant looks, smirking and winking, giddy in their joy. They were pleasant and charming to their guests, cheerful, effusive, reassuring, which made the guests happier, too. The obvious bond of love between Remin and Tano satisfied Xio Voe as a positive outcome and pleasing to Ilanosa. Orinakin was so intoxicated by the room’s mood that he kept wanting to laugh. To his credit, Tano was trying to be a polite dinner guest. He ate neatly, he chatted with the people around him, and he fit in just fine. However, he was incredibly distracted by Remin, who kept staring at him. Staring at him and lusting after him. Staring at him and licking forks. Remin had a particular way of licking forks - alternating between subtle, sensual little flicks of tongue and bold, erotic sweeps - which he’d been specifically forbidden to do in public by the unanimous decision of all three of their parents and Riturihi. He was doing it tonight, and Kudorin wanted to stop him, but mostly Kudorin just wanted to practice it later on Xio Voe’s dick. It was nice to be omnipotent; he could pick up Remin’s techniques much more easily, now. Although practicing had always been fun, too. Gods above, he had an erection at Anosukinom’s dinner table. Biting back a groan, Tano squirmed desperately in his chair, trying to make his mouth say

complete sentences and hoping that he was making any sense. He had to stop looking at Prince Remin, had to stop thinking about Prince Remin, but those eyes, and that mouth, and the licking, he’d seen Prince Remin lick like that before, and he wanted it to keep happening, all over his dick, gods above, if he came in his pants at Anosukinom’s dinner table he was probably going to have to abandon the country in shame. He peeked again. Prince Remin had a spoon now. Before he was reduced to whimpering helplessly, Tano had to do something. Like set the table on fire and run. Or figure out a way not to look at Prince Remin. Or reach orgasm subtly enough not to be found out. Or hurt himself badly enough to kill his erection, but discreetly. Or, oh, oh, shit, Prince Remin was licking his lips, and Tano had to look away, had to, had to, praise the gods, why was he sucking his finger? Did he know that he was in public? Did he know that he was driving Tano wild? Did he know that, oh, oh, why was, how could, ah, no, no, gods above, yes, yes, oh! Suddenly taking a deep breath and lowering his head, Tano coughed into his fist. He kept his head down for a moment, coughing a little, clearing his throat. Then, red-faced, he apologized to the man at his left for the interruption and went back to conversation. Squinting, Desin glanced around the table. Orinakin and Anosanim were blushing but conversing cheerfully. Bade had that very polite expression he wore when he was scandalized in public but was too well-mannered to acknowledge it. Selorin and Talin were eyeing Tano and smirking. Xio Voe was talking as if nothing had happened. Remin was eating slowly. Slowly for Remin; at a normal speed for anyone else. Kudorin met Desin’s eyes and winked. Right. The next time Remin tried to scold Desin for inappropriate behavior - - the next five hundred times, in fact - - Desin was going to remind him of this. And laugh. It wouldn’t show, right? Tano prayed to the gods that it wouldn’t show. When dinner ended and everyone stood with Anosukinom, Tano tried to hold his napkin over himself in a casual manner. No one had any reason to be looking at him, anyway, with the Seven Siblings in the room.

Anosukinom had barely made it through the door before Prince Remin was at Tano’s side. Snared by the lust in those captivating eyes, Tano didn’t even get to breathe before Prince Remin took his hand with a low, breathy, “Come, Tano,” and pulled him away. “They’re going to fuck,” Selorin said, watching them go. Desin snorted. “They already fucked.” Talin smirked. “Yes, but this time they get to do it while touching.” “They can’t have sex until they’re married,” Rini argued. Bade hesitated, looking worried. “Do you mean - - should we stop them?” “They know the rules,” Anosanim said, fanning himself. “They won’t do anything they shouldn’t do.” “They’re going to fuck,” Selorin repeated. Anosanim frowned at him. “Yes, they’re going to engage in some sort of consensual sexual activity, but they’re not going to - - you don’t know that.” “They’re going to fuck,” Orinakin said suddenly, and started forward. “Oh, mmm, oh.” Groaning, Remin dragged Tano into his apartment. The hunger in Tano’s kisses and the sensual devotion of Tano’s hands searching beneath his clothes made Remin’s already fiery lust impossibly hotter. Pushing Tano against the nearest piece of furniture, a sturdy end table, Remin ground his aching dick against Tano’s thigh, dragging off Tano’s black jacket until it hit the floor. “Tano, Tano,” he panted against Tano’s mouth, gathering up handfuls of soft, gauzy fabric until he could delve beneath Tano’s shirt to caress the hot, taut lines of Tano’s muscular back. He needed to be against Tano, on top of Tano, and as he undulated restlessly against Tano’s body, he felt the swollen length of Tano’s erection against him. Moaning in helpless need, Remin dropped to his knees, pushing his face against Tano’s stomach, hands rubbing over Tano’s strong, hard thighs. He needed it, he needed it, and as he yanked open Tano’s belt, he heard a shaky groan, felt Tano’s fingers brush across his lips. Opening his mouth for them, he sucked at Tano’s fingers, his tongue stroking between them in a sensual caress. Mmm, yes, he“Remin!” “Here they are!” “The happy couple!”

As Desin’s strong hands grabbed him beneath the arms and lifted him to his feet, Remin wanted to scream in furious denial. He wanted to tear free and launch himself at Tano’s gorgeous, aroused body. Unh, the sight of Tano, his red mouth, his tousled hair, his shirt half-off, his pants half-open, one hand splayed across the table behind him for support - - no one had ever looked more ready for Remin to go down on him. Startled by the intrusion of Remin’s brightly colored younger brothers, who were wandering around and making themselves comfortable and, in Bade’s case, trying to be discreet about ogling the décor, Tano cleared his throat, straightening and starting to close his pants. Remin couldn’t take it. “Let me look, just let me see it. Desin can hold me,” he looked over one shoulder at Desin, “you can keep me, right?” His gaze immediately locked back onto Tano. “Let me see it, please, I just want to look at it.” Tano glanced around the room, speaking to Remin in a low voice. “I don’t think that I should, in front of - - maybe in the bedroom, if it’s all right with Prince Desin.” Remin would have been willing to do it on one of the fucking moons, but Desin said, “No, do it here, it’s okay.” Tano gave Desin a questioning look but started to open his fly. Grunting, Remin twisted forward, needing to get closer. Desin only let him move a little before catching him in place. Not nearly close enough, Remin relaxed to lull Desin into complacency while Tano gave the room a last assessing look. Judging by the colors in the corners of his vision, most of Remin’s brothers were - - some subtly, some not even bothering to be discreet about it - - drawing closer for a good look. Licking his lips, Remin leaned back into Desin slightly, biding his time. And then Tano pushed his pants and underwear down, the length of his erection popping upward. The sight of it shot hooks into Remin, snatching him forward. Diving towards Tano, Remin gave voice to a moan of pure craving. Tano’s dick was so right, just what he needed, it was his, it was his and he had to have it, he needed it, praise the gods, he needed it, and he was almost on his knees before hasty hands were dragging him back. Tano took a couple of steps towards him as his brother caught him up, and Tano’s erection dipped slightly, bobbing, and Remin groaned, needing the weight of it in his hand, needing to know the feel of it, wanting it. “You really do have Kudorin’s name on - - ah, Remin, stop it.” Desin’s grip tightened on his arms, and then Desin seized him around the waist, tipping back a little to lift him off of his feet. “Come on, you can look as much as you want, just stop moving.”

As much as he wanted. But he wanted to touch. That wasn’t just anyone, wasn’t just any dick; it was Tano, Tano’s erection, and he needed it. Against his skin, across his palm, between his lips, surging into his body and fucking him. Gasping with need, Remin shuddered, staring at it. That delicious column of flesh. That swollen head, so ready for his mouth. “Why don’t we give them a few minutes of privacy?” Orinakin suggested. “We’ll come back later, to talk.” “You want us to leave now?” Desin asked, disbelieving. Yes. Yes, Remin wanted them to leave. Licking his lips, he eyed Tano’s erection, plotting. Oh, the plans he had for that dick. “Not you,” Orinakin said. “Your personal experience in animal wrangling is undoubtedly going to come in handy.” Talin snickered. “I want to stay and watch,” Rini protested. “I can help!” “While your helpful nature is appreciated,” Selorin said, “I think that Tano can do just fine on his own. Come on, let’s let Remin enjoy his fiancé.” They began to leave. “It isn’t as if he tattooed Selorin’s name on himself,” Orinakin murmured, probably in response to Bade’s inner monologue; Orinakin now, like Kudorin, had the habit of replying to words no one had ever actually spoken. “It’s the name of a god. A tattoo of ‘Anosukinom’ is very different from a tattoo of ‘Kudorin.’” That tall, firm erection. That puffy head. Distantly, Remin heard the door close. Desin relaxed enough to put Remin back on his feet. “You go ahead and pretend that I’m not here. Consider me furniture.” Good; Remin wasn’t concerned with Desin. All Remin cared about was standing in front of him. “Tano,” he whispered, as Desin locked his arms behind his back. He needed Tano to come closer to him. “Come to me, Tano.” Drifting nearer, Tano breathed, “Prince Remin.” Giving him a look, Remin coaxed Tano closer. Another look, and Tano kissed him. Mmm, ah, yes. Remin couldn’t touch Tano, but Tano could touch him, and Tano did, hands settling against his body, teasing beneath his clothes, stroking his skin. When Tano’s body swayed closer and Tano’s erection brushed against him, Remin groaned, licking into Tano’s mouth, and Tano made an anguished sound, clutching him more tightly.

“What can I do for you?” Tano whispered, nuzzling him, inhaling against his hairline. “Do you want me to get someone?” The sight of someone else on Tano’s beautiful dick would send Remin completely out of control. But if he couldn’t do it himself, “I want you to jack off for me. I have to see it.” But up close, not from this angle. “Okay. I’ll try not to come too fast,” Tano murmured, kissing him. Tano’s sweet, sensual kisses brushing over his lips made Remin moan with desire, and Tano moaned with him, grinding against his hip, making him want so badly he hurt. “I love you so much,” Tano whispered. “You’re everything to me.” “Naritano,” Remin whispered. Tano’s kisses were the delicious, intoxicating air he needed to breathe. “If I had nothing in the world but your love, I would live in greater luxury than anyone else.” Sighing, Rini slumped against Bade on the couch. “How long is this going to take?” “That depends on what they do,” Anosanim said. “And how long they decide to keep going.” Orinakin smiled at Bade. “Desin’s been in the room while Remin had sex before. And you’ve been in the room while Vade has had sex.” “I didn’t watch,” Bade protested. Blushing, he added, “Or help.” Talin snorted from his seat at the table. “Remin doesn’t need help.” Strolling closer, Anosanim tilted his head to one side. “What are you - - Talin!” “What is it?” Leaning over to see what Talin was sketching, Selorin grinned. “Nice.” Hopping up from the couch, Rini went over to stand behind Talin’s shoulder, tangling his fingers in Talin’s hair and studying the sketch. “I love it. Add more precum, it was all wet and shiny by the time we left.” On a chair, Desin kneeling behind him and holding onto his arms, Remin stared hungrily as Tano stepped nearer. Entirely naked, Tano was completely unselfconscious, gazing at Remin with a warm smile of loving adoration and passionate desire. With a helpless, “Tano,” Remin strained forward, panting softly, wanting him, needing to be closer. Standing astride Remin’s legs, Tano leaned down, kissing him. Responding eagerly to the press of Tano’s lips, Remin gasped, licking into Tano’s mouth, hungry for a taste. As Tano’s hands stroked up his sides, Remin arched, compelled by Tano’s touch.

“Mmm.” Moaning lightly into their kiss, Tano began to unbutton Remin’s shirt. Tano’s hands on him, undressing him, turned Remin on, and excitement prickled through him as Tano bared his chest. Fingertips trailing down Remin’s chest, Tano straightened, gazing down at Remin in obvious fascination. “You’re so beautiful. I could look at you forever. I feel so blessed to be able to touch you.” “I want to feel your hands on my body.” Yes. Remin undulated, tossing his head back, biting his lip as he imagined it. “All over me. Touching me everywhere.” Making a choked, lusting sound, Tano stepped closer, just as Remin wanted him to. “Prince Remin.” Tano’s left hand splayed across Remin’s naked chest while Tano’s right hand, yes, yes, oh, wrapped around that sturdy erection. “Unn, P-p-pprince Remin.” They groaned together as Tano began to stroke himself. It was a simple move, an easy pull-and-rub, but Remin had never seen anything more entrancing. Never seen anything more erotic. Tano’s fingers curled around his own erection with easy familiarity. The flick of his thumb was instinctively repetitive; Tano was used to bringing himself pleasure immediately, was used to getting off fast. Tano began to pant, hips easing into a rhythmic, rolling motion, and Remin groaned, thighs parting. Remin couldn’t do a thing about being turned on, couldn’t even match Tano’s movements and stroke himself, and he flexed in frustration, struggling against Desin’s grip. “I love you,” Tano panted, “so much.” His hand on Remin’s chest rubbed downward, then upward, fingers stroking Remin’s neck. I’ve wanted you so badly, when I’m with you I can’t think of anything else. I love the way you make me feel. Oh, unh, gods above, look at you, I can’t be near you like this and not come.” “Yes, yes, come.” Remin never got to appreciate it fully, never got to see it like this, Tano bringing himself pleasure, Tano bringing himself to climax. He wanted Tano’s dick in his mouth, stroking down his throat, smearing pre-cum across his lips. “Come for me, get off for me, please, Tano, finish it.” Knowing how completely he had Tano’s attention, he licked his lips, licking out for it, arching his body towards Tano’s dick as if he could rise up from the chair and rub himself against it. With a suffering groan, Tano sped up, jacking himself faster. A soft, explosive grunt, and Tano came, spurting streamers of hot, wet cum across Remin’s chest. Panting with excitement, Remin stared at Tano’s flushed, dazed face, at Tano’s hand curled around that beautiful, slick dick, at Tano’s chest red and heaving with each breath, at Tano’s cum splattered in criss-crossing lines across his torso. Teeth catching on his lower lip, Remin moaned, trying to rise up from the chair to

rub himself against Tano, trying to beckon Tano closer, pressing against Tano’s hand at the base of his neck. “Y-you’re so, oh, so beautiful.” Tano’s hand slid down Remin’s chest, smearing cum across Remin’s pecs. Groaning, fiercely aroused, shuddering at the intimacy of Tano’s caress, Remin brought his legs up, hooking his ankles behind Tano, trapping Tano between his thighs, trying to pull Tano closer. With a shaky moan, Tano slid to his knees, bracing his hands on Remin’s thighs to lean in and, nnn, fuck, yes, lick Remin’s chest. Struggling to surge forward, hips rolling and bucking, writhing helplessly on the chair, Remin rubbed the heel of one foot across Tano’s ass, groaning in hot desperation. Moaning breathlessly in response to Remin’s every sound, Tano kissed his way across Remin’s chest, licking up sticky streaks of cum, sucking at Remin’s nipples, hands slowly and intimately caressing Remin’s thighs. Remin couldn’t control the action, couldn’t touch Tano in response, couldn’t do anything but sit there and let it happen. Frustrated, exhilarated, Remin watched in eager fascination as Tano began to kiss downward. Down his chest, soft lips brushing a slow path towards his navel, sweet tongue caressing his skin in bold, sinuous licks. “Tano,” Remin whispered, and immediately Tano looked up at him, eyes black with desire and wide with adoration. Licking his lips, Remin gave a sinuous little writhe, popping his hips forward, and Tano’s lips parted, hands rubbing over Remin’s thighs, Remin’s hips. “Take off my pants.” In immediate obedience, Tano unhooked Remin’s legs from around his waist, setting Remin’s foot in his lap. Unbuckling the straps, Tano slid off Remin’s sandal, kissing the ankle and rubbing between the toes. Tano’s attention felt good, and Remin rubbed his naked toes across Tano’s chest while Tano took off his other sandal. Nuzzling his stomach, Tano kissed his abdomen, fingers edging along his waistband. Since his arms were pinned behind him, Remin hugged Tano with his legs, caressed Tano with his feet, coaxed Tano with the encouraging and tempting writhing of the rest of his body. Tano was, as always, meticulously careful not to touch anything forbidden while opening Remin’s pants. While Tano was pulling his pants down, Remin took the opportunity to show off with a little strategic writhing, which made Tano stare at him in enthralled amazement, but Tano possessed too much stubborn self-control to jump on Remin’s dick. Tano was still hard - - Tano was, like Remin, always hard - - and Remin was starting to feel even more desperate than usual over the sight of Tano’s naked dick. Squirming in honest need, Remin wished that he had a hand free at least to touch himself, if he couldn’t touch Tano. He had to get off, he had to get Tano off,

he was going to lose it if he didn’t get Tano to come on him again. That was what he needed, that would help, “Come on me, Tano, come on me.” He wanted to see it again, to feel it, spurting through the air, wetting his skin. Selorin drummed his fingers on Bade’s thigh. “I wonder what they’re doing,” Rini said, gazing across the courtyard. “Desin will tell us,” Anosanim said placidly, combing Talin’s hair. Rini grinned. “I don’t want Desin to tell me, I want Tano to tell me.” Talin shrugged, still seated at the table, sketching Orinakin now. “If he thinks that Remin’s okay with it, Tano will tell us everything.” “Oh, he will, won’t he!” Pleased, Anosanim ran his fingers through Talin’s hair. “It’s simply wonderful, isn’t it? How open Tano is? We had the best conversation tonight about giving head. Xio Voe never talks so frankly about things like that.” “Neither does Bade,” Selorin said, squeezing his thigh. “But he walks around dressed like this, which does a lot to make up for it.” Honestly, he was dressed completely appropriately for Nosupolin royalty. When had everyday apparel become some sort of fetish garb? “I talk about sex,” Bade protested, ignoring Orinakin’s snickering. He’d had sex in front of them. He’d given head in front of them! Wasn’t that even more open and frank of him than talking about it? “I could ask, ‘Don’t you love sucking dick?’ to you and Tano and Xio Voe,” Rini said. “And only one of you would immediately jump into an hour-long conversation about how fantastic it is to give head. One of you would blush and fumble through half a sentence in reply and then change the subject, and one of you would give me that ‘you are too insignificant to be annoying’ look. Now guess which one is which.” Talin snorted. “Ooh, pick me, I think I know.” That was - - that was - - Bade wanted to say that it wasn’t fair, but, really, it was pretty accurate. “I do like giving head,” he said, because, in his defense, he did. The memory of pinning Orinakin’s hips back against the tunnel wall while he teased Orinakin’s naked, hard dick with soft, exploratory licks turned him on, made him blush, made him hot. Too warm, suddenly, aware of telltale heat in his cheeks, he avoided looking anywhere near Orinakin. Selorin’s voice was soft in his ear. “We know.”

Embarrassed, Bade pinched Selorin’s thigh. It was an automatic response, the way he would’ve replied to Vade. Selorin slapped his hand away, chuckling. “Mmm, I love giving head.” Anosanim’s voice was dreamy. “I wonder how Xio Voe feels about it.” “I wonder how Xio Voe looks doing it,” Rini said. Talin sounded distinctly pleased. “Tano’s not going to be shy about attending an orgy.” Rini laughed. “Tano would start an orgy. Oh! Oh!” He sat up straight, eyes bright with inspiration. “We have to have an orgy! Like we did when Orinakin got married! You know, like the Bride’s Lament!” That wasn’t - - a Bride’s Lament was - - oh, Bade despaired of ever making them understand. Wait, an orgy? With Remin? Covering his mouth with one hand, Orinakin coughed to mask his laughter. “Ooohh, do you think that we could get Xio Voe to come?” Anosanim asked. “It’s been so long since Remin got to enjoy an orgy.” Selorin sounded wistful. “I think that he’d be much more open to the idea now, with Tano.” “I love having orgies when Orinakin’s home,” Rini said. “I love getting to watch Bade fuck. Let’s have one tonight!” “No, we’ll wait until Remin’s wedding,” Anosanim said. “So that Remin and Tano can participate more fully. You know how frustrated Remin is, having to limit himself.” “Let’s invite Xio Voe without making him feel uncomfortable,” Orinakin said. “We should be sure that he understands that we only want him to participate as much as he’s happy with. It’s not fair to Tano or Bade or Xio Voe to compare their comfort levels. They’re from very different backgrounds.” “I don’t know, I think that if you’re comfortable saying, ‘I sentence this man to death,’ but not, ‘I like dicks in my mouth,’ in front of a large crowd, something’s kind of messed up in your priorities,” Rini said. Before Bade could reply to that, Selorin’s hand rubbed across his thigh. “Extra, let’s not introduce that discussion into an otherwise pleasant evening.” “Okay, but I want to be the one who gets to invite Tano to the orgy,” Rini said. “I nominate Talin to invite Xio Voe,” Selorin said. Talin grunted. “I’ll do it,” Anosanim said. “I’ll try to be sensitive to his concerns.”

Bade wondered what it was like when Anosanim deliberately tried to be sensitive. How was that any different from Anosanim’s ordinary conversation? It was like Orinakin trying to be understanding, or Selorin trying to be honest. “I wonder if I could get Xio Voe to say out loud that he likes having dicks in his mouth,” Rini mused. “Dicks, plural?” Talin asked. “If you asked him about Kudorin’s dick, specifically, of course he’d say yes,” Anosanim said. Sounding bewildered, he asked, “Where are you going?” Sighing, Orinakin watched Rini leave the room. “He took that as a suggestion.” Selorin glanced at Orinakin. “Should we stop him?” Talin snorted. “If anyone can handle Extra, Xio Voe can.” “Oh, ah-ah-oh! Unh! Ooohhh, ah, oh.” Tano’s shocked moans of deep satisfaction shuddered across the air as heavy spurts of cum striped Remin’s thighs, splattering across Remin’s groin. Hearing the rich sounds of Tano’s pleasure, seeing his own erection wet with another man’s cum, Remin groaned. The blatant eroticism of it, the explicit sensuality, turned him on, and he strained forward, wanting to lick the wet head of Tano’s dick, wanting to kiss that softly moaning mouth. Ordinarily, Xio Voe didn’t retire to bed so early in the evening. Tonight, however, Anosukinom was excited about Anoremin’s impending marital happiness. Xio Voe, feeling particularly close to Ilanosa, also was particularly aware of the strength of his love for Anosukinom. When Anosukinom had come to him, initiating sex, Xio Voe hadn’t hesitated to respond. Now, in a brief respite between lustful bouts of energetic sexual activity, Anosukinom was sharing with him a few facts of the Antonesian War which had been lost to history. Suddenly, Anosukinom sat up. “I’ll be back later. Soon. Later.” With a rushed kiss, Anosukinom vanished. That did not bode well. Leaving the bed, Xio Voe pulled on underwear and a simple pair of pants. With a half-hearted attempt at a knock, Rini strolled in through the open door. “Oh, here you are.” With a cheerful grin, Rini crawled onto Xio Voe’s bed, settling comfortably atop a pile of black furs. “Anything interesting going on?”

“Anything of general public interest in the immediate vicinity?” Xio Voe asked. “No.” Had Anosukinom fled to avoid Rini? Or had it been a deliberate effort to leave the two of them alone? “Do you seek Anosukinom?” “I seek you.” With a delighted smile, Rini leaned back into an easy sprawl. With that pose, Xio Voe could see very clearly up Rini’s tiny red skirt to his scant yellow underwear, but he didn’t believe that Rini had any seductive intentions. Rini simply had no thought for modesty. “Do you like to give head?” Xio Voe felt his eyes narrow slightly. “As I believe you are already in possession of that information, I suspect that you ask me this question not in pursuit of knowledge but for some other effect. I have little tolerance for psychological games.” “But I don’t know, not really,” Rini argued. “I know that you give head, at least sometimes, because Kudorin talks about how fantastic it is. But I don’t know if you like it. Or how much you like it. Or how much you like it with Kudorin versus how much you like it in general. Are you enthusiastic about it? Is it fun? Does it turn you on?” Xio Voe would have preferred not to entertain this discussion. He did not want to engage in this conversation. His personal sexual activity was meant to be private. “Are you simply being nosy? Do you seek to bond with me over shared interests? Do you seek reassurance about my personal investment in your brother? Do you seek gossip to share with others in social bonding rituals?” Rini blinked at him, sitting up. “I was going to say that it’s just a question, but I guess that it’s not. It’s all of that, really.” The information shared would not stop with Rini. Xio Voe might be able to convince him not to spread it to the larger populace, but it would without a doubt be told to immediate family. “Can I trust you to report my answers back to your brothers accurately, or should I state my answers in front of them directly?” Bounding to his feet, Rini clapped his hands together. “Tell them directly! Come on, they’re in Orinakin’s apartment! Wait,” Rini fell back a step, squinting at him, “were you joking?” Xio Voe felt his lips twitch. “Apparently not.” One hand on Remin’s chest, one hand on Remin’s thigh, Tano kissed him hungrily, nuzzled him, licked at his ears, nibbled at his neck. Kissing back, panting softly, Remin clutched at Tano with his thighs, with his knees, hot, aching, whispering words of need and love and desire.

“I know,” Tano whispered, kissing him, caressing his feverish body with loving hands. “I love you, I love you so much.” Selorin glanced up as Kudorin fell down through the ceiling. “I have to be here for this,” Kudorin said, taking a seat on the table, beside Talin’s sketches. “I can’t help it, this is too much fun.” Running his hands through his hair, he changed pants a few times. “You should be inside Desin’s mind right now, it’s great in there.” Selorin could only imagine. “What’s the - - oh, hello,” Anosanim said, flashing a smile as Rini led Xio Voe into the room. Rini grinned at everyone in a particularly smug, mischievous way and perched on Orinakin’s armrest. Xio Voe scanned the room with icy disinterest. “Please,” Orinakin said, “have a seat.” His posture impeccable, Xio Voe seated himself on a nearby chair. “Xio Voe’s going to tell us how much he likes giving head,” Rini explained. “How thoughtful of you to make yourself available for this particular conversation,” Xio Voe told Kudorin. “I’m shameless,” Kudorin said. “Do you want me to answer the question first?” “Would that result in you waxing poetic about our sexual interactions?” “Yes.” “No,” Xio Voe said. “I will spare us all that recital, and answer the question myself. Do I like to give head, yes.” “To everybody, or just Kudorin?” Rini asked. “Gods have mercy,” Orinakin muttered. To Xio Voe, he said, “You don’t have to do this.” “I am willing to engage in this minor rite of passage to a certain extent,” Xio Voe said. “When my limits have been met, I will excuse myself. As for the question, the comparison between sexual interactions with Anosukinom and sexual interactions with anyone else - - similarly to any interactions, sexual or otherwise - - is greatly in Anosukinom’s favor. I far prefer Anosukinom. Without qualification.” Selorin heard a gorgeous ring of honesty in Xio Voe’s words, and smiled at the sound, relaxing against Bade’s side. “So before Kudorin, you liked giving head?” Rini asked.

“I liked it, yes. It is a sexual activity, and I enjoy sexual activities. I enjoy demonstrating skill in various activities throughout life, and that is one where I considered myself proficient.” “Why do you like it with Kudorin?” Rini asked. Kudorin drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. Xio Voe brushed a speck of lint from his pants. “I find it gratifying to bring him pleasure. I enjoy the intimacy.” “Sexual and physical intimacy are fabulously rewarding, aren’t they?” Anosanim asked. “I can only imagine what it’s like with Kudorin, he’s so wonderful to be near.” For a fleeting moment, Xio Voe actually smiled. “Indeed.” While Tano buttoned his pants back up, Remin simmered, tense, twisting in slow wrath, making angry, hurt noises. Then, as Tano dropped his hands and took one, simple step towards the chair, before Desin could relax his grip - - he could swear that he hadn’t relaxed his grip - - Remin yanked free, rising up and kicking the chair back, launching himself at Tano. They landed half on the sofa, half off, Tano laughing and hugging Remin close, Remin kissing Tano fervently and running his hands over Tano’s bare chest. As Remin shoved a pillow between their groins and Tano’s hands got familiar with Remin’s ass, Desin decided that maybe it was a good moment to leave. Tano seemed to have things - - Remin - - under control, and Remin was about to destroy that carefully placed pillow. Desin took an extra moment to watch the sinuous rolling of Remin’s hips, trying to figure out how to replicate that rhythm, and then left, pulling the door solidly, firmly shut behind himself. “Whew!” Flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders - - containing Remin was a severe workout - - Desin glanced around, guessing where everyone had gone. Since Orinakin’s door was the closest, he started there, peeping in. “But I like little dicks.” The sound of Rini’s voice told him he’d found the right spot, so Desin walked into the apartment. Everyone sitting around talking about sex was normal, the kind of thing he expected, but Xio Voe was there, too. Not in a corner working on some physics theorem, but in the conversation with everyone else. Desin had to find out how this had happened. “They’re great, they’re so easy to play with.” “Easy does not interest me,” Xio Voe said. “I prefer a challenge.”

“In sex, though?” Rini asked. “I don’t want sex to be a challenge, I want sex to be fun.” “He’s with the most powerful man in the world,” Talin said. “He likes a challenge, he found one. He gets to assert control over someone who’s omnipotent. That has to be a huge turn-on.” “Kudorin is a man of great intelligence, fluid sexuality, and changeable temperament,” Xio Voe said. “He seeks new pleasures and new stimulation constantly. He is content to sit idle with one thought for an interminable length of time, and then he flits from one idea to the next in an insatiable quest for novelty. It is a challenge to hold his attention, to keep him interested, to satisfy him. It flatters me that he has not yet exhibited boredom in my company.” His gaze flickered to Desin. “The long-awaited return.” “How’s Remin?” Anosanim asked, while Selorin made room for Desin on the couch. Rini grinned. “How’s Tano?” Kudorin slid down from the table to sit on the arm of Xio Voe’s chair, cozying up to Xio Voe’s shoulder. “You know that you could never bore me, shiefa.” “They’re fine,” Desin said, dropping down beside Selorin. “Still going at it, but Tano put his pants back on, so they should be okay.” “And you just left?” Rini asked. “I would’ve stayed to watch.” Talin grunted. “Remind me to lock doors more often.” “For what?” Rini asked. “What do you need privacy for?” Talin’s glare sent Desin’s balls shrinking back up into his body, and it wasn’t even directed at Desin. Drifting back behind Orinakin, Rini scowled at Talin. “Stop being scary.” “This is nice,” Kudorin said with a happy sigh, looking around the room with a glowing smile. “All of us in here, chatting. Remin and Tano in the next room, in love. If Anikira were here, it would be perfect. It feels so good to have Tano with us. I’m so glad to bring him into the family.” “He’s absolutely darling, isn’t he?” Anosanim asked with a satisfied smile. “I always think that I have the best set of brothers in the world, and then a new one comes and fits right in and makes things even better.” “I don’t lock doors for anything,” Rini said. “I don’t care what people see me doing. I don’t do anything everybody else doesn’t do.”

“Right,” Kudorin said. “We all invite wrestling teams over to play sex games with ice, paddles, and feather dusters.” Rini grinned. “Well, if we don’t, we should.”

Part 275 Remin’s nails scratched lightly across the backs of Tano’s thighs as he coaxed Tano’s hips closer. Slumped beside Selorin on the couch, Desin tried to find an answer that would satisfy the curiosity gleaming in his brothers’ eyes. “It was just like before,” he finally said. “Just like it used to be. But different.” Selorin’s elbow nudged him in the ribs. “I’m going to need a little more information than that. The same how? Different in which ways?” Shrugging, Desin thought about it. “Most of my attention was on Tano, so I probably missed some stuff. But Remin seemed like he used to be. The way he tossed his hair and moved his body and kept all of Tano’s attention. He had Tano saying stuff guys have never said to me. But he seemed way more focused than usual. Guys always act like Remin’s the best they’ve ever seen and they can’t think of anyone else, but this is the first time I’ve seen Remin act that way back.” Orinakin nodded. “I know what you mean.” “The fact that I was there didn’t matter to either one of them,” Desin added. “Not like they forgot about me, they just didn’t care. I don’t think that Tano would’ve done anything differently with or without me in the room.” Anosanim beamed. “He’s wonderfully uninhibited, isn’t he?” “We should’ve stayed,” Rini said. “We could’ve watched.” “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to watch another time,” Kudorin assured him. “Plenty.” With a content sigh, Remin stretched out alongside Tano. Nuzzling closer, Tano hugged him, and Remin enjoyed the light slide of Tano’s hands over his body. Now that he was momentarily sated, Remin was aware of a light tapping at his consciousness. Mmm. “Kudorin wants us to come hang out in Orinakin’s rooms.” Immediately alert, Tano began to get up. “Both of us? Now?”

“It’s not a royal summons,” Remin said, sitting up on the floor, watching Tano gather his clothes for him. “He just wants us all to spend time together. You can wash up first.” No, make that, “We can wash up first.” Pushing himself to his feet, Remin reached for Tano with a grin. “C’mon and soap me up.” When Remin and Tano sauntered into the apartment, aglow with satisfaction, happiness and curiosity and amusement fluttered brightly through the room, but everyone tried to downplay it, acting as if it were entirely usual for Remin to look so superbly relaxed. They walked in very close together, fingers tangled; Remin was barefoot, his hair damp. When Anosanim cleared a chair, Remin nudged Tano ever so slightly, and Tano sat. Remin sat on his lap as if entirely comfortable there, Tano automatically hugging him. It was a treasure to see Remin so at ease in his own skin, so at ease in another man’s company, so naturally soaking up physical affection. Orinakin liked being around Tano; Tano’s emotions were strong, but positive and clear. Some people had muddied emotions, mixed feelings; Tano’s emotions had a clarity and vibrancy Orinakin enjoyed. They talked, sometimes all together, sometimes breaking off into separate, smaller conversations. They made an effort to include Tano, but he didn’t seem to mind listening, his gaze focused and attentive when subjects came up he wasn’t familiar with. Tano and Bade kept falling into side conversations together, because Tano loved to share information, and Bade loved to ask questions, and neither one of them stopped until Tano’s knowledge had been exhausted - - at which point they sometimes turned to the room’s expert on the subject for further investigation. Orinakin had never realized that there was so much to say about butter. After leaving Remin’s room earlier, Orinakin had sat some distance away from Bade, choosing to settle on a chair of his own. Remin and Tano’s lust for each other had been so strong, it had made him feverishly aroused, and he’d kept to himself to keep from embarrassing Bade by, say, yanking off Bade’s clothes and rubbing himself urgently against Bade’s naked body. Now, with Remin and Tano in the room, Orinakin couldn’t help but feel hot with renewed desire. Their passion for each other was constant, and they couldn’t stop touching each other. Not content with sitting on top of each other, they were forever caressing, nuzzling, petting. Tano’s hands were never still on Remin’s body, and Remin kept shifting, wallowing sensuously in Tano’s embrace. The constant loop of their desire - - Tano wanting Remin, Remin wanting Tano, both of them keenly aware of it - - was only mirrored by the quietly volcanic furnace of

Kudorin and Xio Voe’s erotic love, and Orinakin felt all of it pouring through him, hot and spicy and craving. He was in his own apartment. His bed was right in the next room. He could excuse himself discreetly and pull Bade aside and get what he needed. But there was no way to be discreet, not with Bade, not with those delicious moans and throaty groans and heated cries of pleasure. When Orinakin and Bade shared lovesex, when Orinakin felt those rising waves of ecstasy rolling through himself, his pleasure, Bade’s pleasure, their joint passion fresh and explosive, everything Orinakin felt, he heard in Bade’s voice. A sexual symphony of erotic joy, a choir of sensual need. A new burst of love rose from Tano, deep affection caught fast in his heart, and as Tano’s fingers combed lightly through Remin’s hair, Remin simmered with heat, Remin’s desire singing along Orinakin’s flesh. They wanted each other, they wanted each other so badly, and Orinakin could feel it, that hot desire, pumping“Are you okay?” Rini asked, touching his shoulder. Trying to take a cleansing breath, Orinakin inhaled nothing but lust. Biting back a moan, he smiled at Rini, curling his fingers inward to keep from reaching for Bade. “Lot of emotion in the room.” Those were all the words he could get out. Gods above, he had to take a break. Had to clear his head. If he got away from it for a moment, got it out, he’d be fine, but it was building, mounting, riding him, oh. He’d just go into the next room, just go into Selorin’s apartment and jack off, just go into the belam and, Bade, Bade, he wanted Bade, it had to be Bade. Remin chuckled at something, shifting sinuously in the corner of Orinakin’s vision, and Tano’s lust flared with the heat of a torch passing over Orinakin’s skin. Breaking into a sweat, Orinakin held on for just a second more, and as soon as everyone was caught in conversation, he said something to excuse himself, managing to duck politely out of the room. In the hallway, he leaned against the wall for a second, inhaling deeply, trying to slow the fire. But his body ached with need he couldn’t just breathe away. Reaching for the door to Selorin’s room, Orinakin felt a soft blur of emotions so familiar and so beloved it made his soul gasp. “I was going to ask if you were okay,” Bade mumbled, reaching past him to open Selorin’s door, “but I can kind of see it for myself.” A nervous tremor, a selfconscious smile. Orinakin loved Bade unreservedly. “I don’t, um.” Do you want to do this fast and get back right away and act like nothing happened? Or just, um, indulge and not worry about keeping up appearances? Indulge. Not worry about making it look as if nothing were going on. Bade never would’ve offered something like that, before. Bade had been reared to consider

propriety, to give away nothing, to prioritize discretion. And now Bade was suggesting that they leave everyone in their apartment and take over Selorin’s bed for the night. “Remind me to tell you, later, how proud I am of you,” Orinakin said, hooking his fingers in Bade’s laces and dragging Bade into Selorin’s apartment. “We’ll decide whether or not to hurry back after you’ve finished fucking me with the power of a thousand bulls.” Prince Orinakin’s apartment was dazzling in its elegance. Lavish and purple, it boasted of Prince Orinakin’s impossible wealth and displayed all sorts of foreign touches. Tano felt sorry for the servants who had to clean these rooms; one false movement, and a priceless object could be lost forever. Prince Orinakin’s curios weren’t the sort of thing which could just be replaced. Tano couldn’t imagine trying to make amends after breaking one of Prince Orinakin’s knickknacks. How would that conversation go? “Sorry about that vase I knocked over yesterday. Here’s a new one!” “That vase was made thirty million years ago by an ancient tribe of monks and hand-painted by Princess So-and-so herself. It was passed down from one ruler to the next and played a major role in the devastation of some lost kingdom. The King of Somewhere presented it to me upon his deathbed as a symbol of our everlasting alliance. It held the last ashes from the funeral pyre of the first Sultan of Lorbain.” “Yeah, I got this one from a local pottery shop. It has flowers on it!” Gods above, Tano wondered why Prince Orinakin even allowed people into his apartment at all. It continued to impress Tano, how welcoming the royal family was to him. They were including him in this warm family moment as if he’d always belonged among them. He tried to be on his best behavior, but they were so friendly and accepting, he felt right at home. Well, King Xio Voe wasn’t exactly friendly, but he was used to that. It was kind of funny, how normal their conversation was one moment, and how unique it was the next. They talked about the things everyone else talked about - their family, their work, their friends, politics, sports, sex, local events. But their family was made up of deities and emperors, and they were the one running the politics under discussion. When other people talked about how international trade affected wheat prices, it was all powerless speculation and personal grumbling; these were the people who directed trade and set those prices. Nothing was abstract here; it was all in their hands. Tano thought that it might be different if he were, say, the last one to marry into the family, if the rest of the princes all had spouses already; presumably, there would

be more ordinary citizens in the room, then. As it was, there were no ordinary people in the room at all, besides him. None in the immediate family, besides him. Ha! Immediate family, besides him. It was going to take some time to get used to that idea. To get used to being a member of Prince Anoremin’s family, Anosukinom’s family. It was a fact, he supposed, that Queen Anikira hadn’t been born into royalty. She’d spent most of her life as an ordinary citizen, too. But she was a queen. She didn’t seem as if she’d ever been anything else. The Seven Siblings. The Queen of Orina Anoris. Prince Orinakin’s handsome foreign prince husband. The Heir, the king, the future ruler of the Jacacean Empire, the unconquerable Xio Voe. This was Tano’s family now? Working for them was one thing. Being accepted by them was something else. Becoming a seamless part of this family group, he didn’t know how to accomplish that. The idea of being Prince Remin’s husband was fundamentally thrilling, but still a concept he was beginning to grasp. He could understand, abstractly, how to do that, how to fill that role, how to accept that privilege and responsibility. But the role of Anosukinom’s brother-in-law? Marrying Prince Remin, he could do. Marrying into this family was still too fresh an idea. Too daunting a reality. He’d loved these people for all of his life - - well, not Prince Bade, who he hadn’t known existed, and certainly not King Xio Voe - - but“But you did know that Xio Voe existed.” Anosukinom shifted on King Xio Voe’s armrest, his sparkling and vibrant gaze landing right on Tano. “When you were growing up. You’d heard of him.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” Of course Anosukinom was aware of his every thought. But that was a little different when Tano was just running around living his life. Now that he was closer to Anosukinom, personally and geographically, the consequences of Anosukinom’s omniscience were more real. Tano wasn’t sure that he could change his thoughts, though. Or even that he should. “We learned about the imperial family.” “What did you think of him?” “Kudorin,” Prince Remin said in a soft, sensuous, chastising tone. He couldn’t not answer a direct question from Anosukinom. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t think much about him at all. When you’re young, the heirs to other governments don’t seem very important. With apologies for my ignorance,” he murmured to King Xio Voe, trying to bow reverently with Prince Remin in his lap. “But you did think about the Jacacean Empire.” Anosukinom was, suddenly, for just an instant, much closer, perched on Prince Remin’s lap, the surprise of it and

the brilliance of his eyes making Tano blink, and Tano felt something, what was it, a sense of peace, a blur of love, wash through him. Then, just as abruptly, Anosukinom was back on King Xio Voe’s armrest, as if Tano had imagined the whole thing. “I can’t touch him, I want to touch him.” Anosukinom scowled at him, looking deeply aggrieved. It hurt, to think that he made Anosukinom unhappy, to think that he made Anosukinom sound so frustrated, but Tano didn’t know what he could do to help the situation. Just as Tano regretted Anosukinom’s unhappiness, however, Anosukinom smiled at him, looking friendly and kind, impossibly handsome, unaccountably interested in him. “Tell me what you thought about the Jacacean Empire.” Tano would, of course, offer up anything Anosukinom wished to hear. He just had to make one quick apology first. “I do not wish to offend,” he began, glancing at King Xio Voe, who was watching him without any apparent interest. “You won’t insult him,” Anosukinom said. “Nothing you say will injure his feelings or his Jacacean pride. And overall, he’s much more likely to insult you, actually, and less likely to feel bad for it.” “The truth does not insult me, it only inspires me,” King Xio Voe said. “A lie does not insult me, it only reveals the speaker’s nature.” “What about an opinion?” Prince Selorin asked. King Xio Voe’s gaze flickered in Prince Selorin’s direction. “There are so few people in the world whose opinion is of any interest to me, I am accustomed to dismissing the majority of opinions as irrelevant.” “Go ahead.” Anosukinom smiled at Tano, such a beautiful and loving smile that Tano’s heart faltered. “What did you think of Jacacea, when you were a child?” “I, um, well.” Hesitating, Tano was keenly aware that his tall, black-clad king was staring at him with those chilly yellow-green eyes. He tried to focus on Anosukinom and ignore what a bad idea it was to displease this particular boss. “I knew of the Jacacean Empire before I learned about it in school. It was something people talked about in everyday conversation. I got the, um, impression, at the time, you know, from things people said, that - - well, with-” “Bloodthirsty?” King Xio Voe suggested. “Warmongering? Godforsaken, I believe, is a popular concept.” Prince Rini gasped, making the sign to the gods. Tano wasn’t sure how to respond, but Anosukinom gave him an encouraging smile. Trusting Anosukinom, Tano spoke honestly. “The Jacacean army tried to invade Anosukinom’s lands. You start wars, you slaughter people, you kill your own citizens, you destroy other people’s cultures, you wipe out their religions and

destroy the symbols of their gods. When I grew up, at first I thought that - - forgive me,” he said to Anosukinom, “that ‘violent bastards’ was another word for Jacaceans.” “And so you hated them,” Anosukinom said quietly. “Of course not! Well, yes, at first, I did. I thought that everyone did, I thought that it was just how the world worked. It was one of those basic facts of life. Of course the sky is blue, of course Anosukinom is with us, of course everyone detests Jacaceans. And then my grandmother heard me talking with some of my friends one day, and oh, I got a lecture that night. She made me scrub the floor the whole time, and I’ve never seen a cleaner floor in my life.” Anosukinom smiled at him. “What did she say?” Flattening his palm across Prince Remin’s abdomen, Tano returned Anosukinom’s smile. “It stayed with me for the rest of my life. She taught me not to hate Jacaceans, but to feel sorry for them. She said that to be so violent and misguided and wicked, they must be so confused, so wrong in their thinking, so divorced from their gods. I’m so close to my gods, we communicate all day long, every day, I can’t imagine what it’s like to have such a broken relationship with your own gods. To lash out so violently. To think that’s what they want. To have so little respect for life and the gods and humanity that you kill your own people. How disconnected from your own gods you must be. How lost and confused you must be. It sounds like a terrible existence, absolutely miserable. Hating them, there’s no purpose in that. I felt sorry for them. I prayed for them, that they would find a better way, that they would someday understand.” “You felt sorry for the Jacacean Empire?” Prince Rini asked. “Can I be the one to tell Emperor Sei that little Anorian kids are praying for him and feeling sorry for him?” “No,” Prince Remin said, resting his head on Tano’s shoulder. “You can’t.” Combing his fingers through Prince Remin’s hair, Tano decided to keep avoiding King Xio Voe’s piercing eyes for a while. “I think that it’s a good lesson, overall. For general purposes. I mean, righteous anger definitely has power, you can use that as a good motivating factor, but I wasn’t getting anything good out of hating Jacaceans. Praying for them made me feel better, it gave me more hope that someday they’d stop, or change, or learn. I apply it to all sorts of things in life. When I catch myself dwelling on negative aspects, like how nasty someone is, instead of wishing them ill, I pray for them.” “What a terrific attitude! Such a positive, hopeful outlook! I certainly agree, I think that’s a much better way to approach wickedness,” Prince Anosanim said.

“You pray a lot,” Anosukinom told Tano. “Even more than the average Anorian.” His smile was pleased. “We like it.” Thrilled to have pleased Anosukinom, Tano tried to bow. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” We. We! Anosukinom spoke on behalf of the gods, and the gods liked how often Tano prayed! Prince Remin plucked at a button on Tano’s vest. “If Orinakin were here, he could tell us all about the Tuthigu.” “The who?” Prince Rini asked. “They dwell in the jungles of Akruzoia,” King Xio Voe replied. “They’re a monotheistic group worshiping a god called Sarem,” Prince Remin explained. “They believe that, just as it’s rude for regular members of the tribe to chatter away at each other when the chief enters the hut, it’s disrespectful for them to carry on among themselves when Sarem is present. Therefore, they talk to Sarem more than to each other. If I want you to know that Bade left the room, I’ll say, ‘May it please Sarem for this man to know that Bade has gone from this place.’ If I want you to know that dinner’s ready, I’ll say, ‘May it please Sarem for this man to come and partake of the meal now.’ They speak aloud to Sarem constantly, whether they’re alone or with each other. I was told that they don’t even bother to make eye contact very often.” “Oh, that’s creepy,” Prince Rini said. “I’d feel so alone, even in a crowd! No one talks to you, no one looks at you, it’s like you’re not really there.” “You’d never feel lonely,” Prince Anosanim argued. “Sarem is always with you. I think that it’s a fascinating culture.” “It sounds like they have the right priorities,” Prince Desin said. “But I think they went too far with it. Putting the gods first is great, I can’t argue with that, but you have to build social connections, too. Enjoying and appreciating the other people in your life seems way too important, and they sound really isolated.” “We’ll have to ask Orinakin more about them,” Prince Anosanim declared. “So that we can get a broader idea of their traditions. Or, do you know much about them?” he asked King Xio Voe. “Not as much as Orinakin,” King Xio Voe said coolly. “I have not been among them myself.” Tano wondered what Anosukinom knew about them. What Anosukinom thought of them. How Sarem felt about their ways. How the Soracic gods felt about Jacacean violence. Anosukinom had married the future Emperor. As a gesture of approval of Jacacean methods? Or as a way in, a step towards correcting Jacacean behavior?

King Xio Voe deferred to Anosukinom’s authority on Anorian matters; would he defer to Anosukinom in all things? Or would he rule the Jacacean Empire with the same tyrannical, bloody hand as his ancestors? King Xio Voe seemed like such a good, honest, fair man, Tano couldn’t imagine him as a merciless predator. But he didn’t have to do the killing himself; he had an army to do it for him. It had to be easier to direct an army than to lift the blade personally. Still, how could anyone order someone’s death, then speak comfortably at Anosukinom’s side? How could the Jacacean Emperor sentence his own citizens to death, kill his own people, and then call himself a Soracic priest? Or was that, truly, what the Soracic gods wanted? Were the Soracic gods as bloodthirsty as their people? King Xio Voe met his eyes, and he realized that he’d been staring. Tano was about to apologize when Anosukinom said, “Tano’s trying to figure you out.” King Xio Voe’s face was as expressionless as ever. “He is not alone in that endeavor.” It was a good night. A good night without qualifications, without explanations, without concessions. Just a good night. He had Tano. He was with his brothers. He was engaged. He could sit in the comfort of Tano’s lap, settle into the luxury of Tano’s touch, and enjoy his brothers’ company. He listened to them talk about important and trivial things, listened to them argue and laugh and ramble, corrected them and guided them and loved them. This would be his life. Their lives, too. He was bringing Tano into this family setting, was adding Tano to their growing blend. He was glad to see how well they got along with Tano, how easily they accepted Tano, how simply Tano navigated their conversations. Tano still had a faithful citizen’s reverence for Anosukinom, something Remin didn’t expect to fade; still had that wary but loyal respect for Xio Voe. Still addressed all of them with respect, friendly and sociable as ever but not overly familiar. Then again, Tano was so polite that he still insisted on using Prince Remin’s title, so Remin didn’t expect him to be aggressive about insinuating himself. When everyone separated for the night, Kudorin hugged Remin tightly, kissing him and whispering love and blessings. It was a real joy to know that Kudorin was happy for him. Remin was relieved to have figured things out at last, to have found his future, and overjoyed that this, particularly, was the future he’d found. Tano! He couldn’t have asked for a better partner. If he’d tried to design a husband for himself, he wouldn’t have come up with someone as wonderful as Tano.

He told Tano that, as they were falling asleep that night. Predictably, Tano loved it, soaking up his affection and returning it tenfold. Smiling, kissing Tano, he murmured, “You’re terrific for my self-confidence.” Tano grinned at him, fingertips skimming down the length of his arm. “You wouldn’t love me as much if I weren’t.” It was a fabulous morning. Prince Remin loved him. He cooked a spectacular breakfast. He’d spent last night casually hanging out with Anosukinom. And life was only going to get better when, of all things, he got married to Prince Remin. Everyone seemed to know, already, that they were engaged. A stream of people passed through the kitchen, offering congratulations. Even the other chefs stopped by to offer their good wishes. Lo Ariside seemed genuinely proud of him. People seemed to assume that he’d quit his position now that he was getting married, but when he explained that he had every intention of continuing to cook professionally, Lo Ariside said that it would be an honor to work for Prince Remin’s husband. He really had the best of everything. He was at the height of his career. He was about to marry the most magnificent man in the world. Before, he’d only been able to cook when he was frustrated and miserable. He’d been sure that he’d never be able to continue to cook while in a relationship, much less while married. He’d thought that if he ever found someone he wanted to be with, he’d have to abandon his career. Now, he had both a love life and a job, both a sex life and a career, both an amazing job and a fantastic fiance. He didn’t have to make sacrifices or compromises anymore; he didn’t have to risk one to get the other. What was even better, Prince Remin didn’t have to, either. Prince Remin could be sexually active while still maintaining the dignity of the royal high priest. Tano’s victory was a personal one; Prince Remin’s happiness affected the whole nation. Prince Remin was happy, and the whole country was better off as a result. Tano had always wanted to contribute something to the good of Orina Anoris. He hadn’t realized that it would come in the form of his ability to keep the royal high priest sexually satisfied, but he certainly had no problems with that. It was the same sense of quiet joy he’d carried for weeks. Happiness, anticipation, contentment. But now it came with a deep sense of gladness and peace, because now it wasn’t just a passing state. Now it wasn’t a temporary situation he expected to change when he met someone else. Now he knew that it was a steady part of his life.

Tano wasn’t someone he had to cling to, someone he had to figure out how to keep while still developing other relationships. Tano was it. Tano was the one. Word had spread. His moment in the temple with Tano yesterday had been public, and the throne had issued a public statement about his formal engagement. The temples were crowded all day with people praying for him, congratulating him, and gossiping about Tano. He was kept busy all day as citizens, priests, and cousins came to offer their congratulations. He was happy, and glad to share his joy with others. Anorians were sincerely invested in his wellbeing, and it was a pleasure to be able to let them see his happiness, to talk with them about his engagement, to invite them to share their stories as well. He was a part of their lives; his joy was their joy. Kudorin came to see him and sit with him and talk to everyone with him, which caused a stir. The only time that afternoon he wasn’t surrounded by a group of well-wishers was when he locked himself into his office for lunch with Tano. By the time he and Tano opened the door again, there was a whole crowd of people waiting indiscreetly for them to emerge. As he proudly introduced the people nearby to his future husband, others crowded in for a closer look. There had been rumors that he was dating, but now there was an actual fiance, and people wanted to know who their royal high priest was marrying. Remin couldn’t blame them; he had so much influence over their day-to-day lives, it was only natural for them to seek reassurance about the guy he’d chosen to share his life with. Remin considered Tano a perfectly appropriate companion for a royal high priest. Even if he hadn’t been the royal high priest in question, he would’ve found Tano very suitable. It was a relief, frankly, to add someone to the family without having to worry about being embarrassed. Xio Voe and his own brothers made him more tense than Tano did. He didn’t have to worry that Tano would represent him poorly or offend citizens or bring shame to the throne. At least not as much as he worried about Rini doing it. It was a day for singing praise and floating on air. Wanting to share his joy with others, Tano sent a basket of sandwiches to Prince Anosanim’s builders and a basket of muffins to Prince Desin’s gardeners. He felt immensely closer to the royal family after last night. He was going to have to figure out how to be a good member of that family. He looked forward to being educated on how to behave properly in formal situations, for one thing. He was going to have to have some better clothes made, too. It wasn’t right to keep borrowing the royal family’s attire. Should he buy jewelry, too? He supposed that he had to.

How would he know what to get? The tailors and shopkeepers would help him, but he wanted to be sure that he was getting good advice. Maybe there was someone the royal family hired to advise on that sort of matter. Prince Remin would know, or Prince Anosanim might be able to point him towards someone who could consult him. It was exciting, to plan for marriage to Prince Remin. Trying to be a good husband to Prince Remin, a welcome member of Anosukinom’s family, was a challenge Tano embraced. A challenge he’d never dreamt he’d face. He’d wanted to come home to Orina Anoris to be among Anorians again, to be nearer to his culture and his roots and his gods. He hadn’t imagined that he’d be brought right into Anosukinom’s home and Anosukinom’s family. Metaphorically, yes, or in a broader sense, but not so literally. Setting down his knife, Tano paused in what he was doing to pray. “Again,” Lo Ariside said. “At least when I’m asked, I can assure everyone that you genuinely are devout.” A slim envelope with silver bordering. Remin recognized it immediately among the correspondence on his desk. Lifting it from the pile, he examined it. Read Prince Anosatim Inanodat Anoremin A Hiti in thin, pale silver ink across the front. A bela’s stationery. Tepeni’s handwriting. He set it aside. Attended to other tasks. His life was changing. His sexual status was changing. Something he had deliberately avoided thinking about, but couldn’t stop thinking about: his relationship with the belas would change, too. He’d been nervous around belas, before. Skittish. They were the greatest sexual temptation he’d faced, and he’d been afraid of what he might do, which lines he might cross, if he ever permitted himself to be around them. But he had Tano now. He couldn’t have sex with them, but his husband could. And the idea of Tano among belas turned Remin on with a feverish heat. Tano with belas. Belas with Tano. He’d wondered if he’d ever be able to find a husband who was sexually compatible with himself; in Tano, he had someone who was even sexually compatible with his belas. He let the envelope sit on his desk. Let it tease him. Let the anticipation build. Let his mind conjure up all of the clever or fiery or mundane things Tepeni might have written. He hadn’t let a bela tease him in so long, he reveled in this simple exchange. This letter marked, he hoped, the end of the separation between

himself and the belas. The beginning of a new relationship. A different relationship, necessarily, but there could be interaction now, back and forth, communication, play. Leaving the letter in his office, he went to dinner. Instead of eating at the table with him, Tano was back in the kitchen, working. Remin wasn’t happy about that; he wanted Tano where he was, with him. Tano, however, genuinely preferred things that way. They were going to compromise; Tano would attend certain dinners based on various factors like who the guests were or Xio Voe’s schedule, but the majority of the time, Tano would cook through dinner and eat in the kitchen. Tano thought that Remin should be happy with that, since when Tano worked, Remin got better food, but Remin preferred Tano’s company to Tano’s cooking. No matter how fantastic Tano’s cooking was. After dinner, he went to the kitchens, where Tano was cleaning up from dinner and carefully wrapping an assortment of pies. They talked, and flirted, and made out, and ate pie. When Remin got to the point where he either had to go too far or back away, he backed up and took Tano to his office. Handing Tano the envelope, he rested one hip on the edge of his desk and waited. Tano gave him a questioning look, studied the envelope, gave him another look, and opened it. Remin drew Tano closer, scanning Tano’s expression. “Read it to me.” He wanted to hear it in Tano’s voice. Clearing his throat, Tano read. “Congratulations on your engagement, our dear, illustrious prince. We wish to meet with your delicious new morsel to learn what we might do for him in our professional capacity. Does he bite? Does he mind if we do?” Arrogant, aloof, obvious, flirtatious. Typical Tepeni. “Would you like to meet with the belas tonight? To discuss what you like and what you should expect?” Tano stared at him. “Can I? Is that okay? Will you be there? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “It’ll be fine.” While Remin’s tone was confident and reassuring, he wasn’t quite so sure himself. He’d progressed so far from his defensive shell, he should be able to speak with a bela without jeopardizing his future, but belas were a difficult temptation. They knew him, knew what he liked and how to give it to him, knew what he wanted and how to deliver it, better than anyone. “You’ve already met some of the belas, haven’t you? We’ll just go and have a brief conversation to clear up any questions you or they might have.”

Implicitly trusting, Tano nodded, then grinned, anticipation beginning to sparkle in his eyes. “Your own dedicated sex workers. In your home, all of the time, waiting for you. It’s paradise.” A paradise Remin hadn’t visited for years. A forbidden paradise. But now, through Tano, he could taste it again. Just another reason to be grateful to have Tano in his life. Before they met with belas, however, “Let’s get off first,” Remin suggested, locking the door and drawing Tano toward the couch. Anticipation already quick in his eyes, Tano stretched out along the couch, pulling Remin down for a deep kiss. “Yeah, mmm, okay.”

Walking with Prince Remin through the hallways, Tano wondered if Prince Remin had to schedule himself additional time to get from one part of the palace to another. He had to stop to talk with so many people along the way, acknowledging their bows and prayers, counseling them and blessing them, now accepting their congratulations, that he probably had to leave early for meetings just to accommodate delays. When they got to the private family wing of the palace, it was much quieter. Prince Remin knocked at a belam door and then immediately stepped behind him. Instantly, Tano saw it as his duty to protect Prince Remin from the belas, the way he protected Prince Remin from the men he partnered with. It wasn’t entirely about keeping their hands off of Prince Remin; it was about keeping Prince Remin’s hands off of them, too. Cautiously, he put his arms out slightly, hands back a little, so that he could catch Prince Remin and intervene if Prince Remin reached out or surged forward. The door opened and sexy, sexy Tepeni smiled right past him to Prince Remin. “That didn’t take long.” A happy realization struck Tano just then. He wasn’t allowed to touch Tepeni - yet - - which meant that Tepeni wasn’t allowed to touch him, either. If he stayed between Prince Remin and the belas, he’d only have to worry about Prince Remin. Normally with other men, Tano had to watch what the guy was doing to him and how far things were going, and keep Prince Remin from crossing any lines, plus keep the guy off of Prince Remin. Relieved that this job of running interference might not be as much work as he’d thought, Tano said a cheerful, “Hello. You wanted to talk?”

Tepeni was sort of simmering right in front of him, eyeing Prince Remin with predatory arousal. “Oh, I want a lot of things,” Tepeni murmured, teeth catching lightly on his plush lower lip. There was a soft, hungry snarl by Tano’s right ear; Prince Remin’s fingers twisted in the back of his open vest. Tano would’ve been impressed by how quickly Tepeni and Prince Remin responded to each other, but Prince Remin’s lust was always incredibly close to the surface. Putting a hand back on Prince Remin’s thigh, he smiled at Tepeni. “This shouldn’t take long. Is there anyone else we should include?” They couldn’t go inside the belam - - he wasn’t permitted there yet, and he didn’t think that putting Prince Remin into a belam was a great idea at the moment - - but he didn’t want Tepeni in the erotic grandeur of Prince Remin’s apartment, either. He didn’t want to drag a bela through the palace to his apartment, though. Could they use one of the empty apartments here? There were plenty of unused rooms in this wing. “Shall we go into some of these vacant quarters to talk?” “Everyone’s been itching to get to know you better, Chef Pitok.” As Tepeni eyed his body with approval, the door to the belam swung wider to reveal more men clustered behind Tepeni, just as Tano became aware of belas slipping down the hallway towards him from the other belams. To keep himself from stepping forward for a bela’s succulent kiss, Tano took a step back, one hand on Prince Remin’s thigh. Tepeni smirked at him; Prince Remin’s hands tightened on his waist. He could hear the seething lust in Prince Remin’s breathing. “Let’s step over here to speak privately,” Tepeni suggested smoothly, leading the way across the hall. Ah, how did Tepeni make his ass twitch like that? Tano stared in fascination as Tepeni walked away. Such a smooth, rolling gait, with such an appealing little bounce. “Can he teach me to walk like that?” Tano whispered, rubbing Prince Remin’s thigh. A faint, aching groan. “You already do.” Really? Tano watched Tepeni admiringly. “No wonder you want me so much.” The belas were as turned on as Remin was. While he hadn’t had access to them, they hadn’t had access to him, and just being in the same room again, behind a closed door, was getting them heated. They held back for his sake, but he could see the lust, the need in their every movement. While Tano learned all of the belas’ names and told everyone to call him Tano, Remin avoided eye contact and ensconced himself into a corner of the sofa, drawing his legs up and pretending to admire the decor. This was one of Dimi’s old apartments, and had last been

occupied by a handful of Dimi’s children; the rooms were decorated in blue, with gold accents and heavy, ornate furnishings. Remin recalled partnering with Banok and Dunota there, at the foot of the staircase, during one of Dakeb and Topano’s parties. Without prompting, Tano sat right beside him, close against him, a barrier between him and the rest of the room, him and the belas. “I think that I understand the basics,” Tano said, one hand drifting to Remin’s thigh. “I just want to be sure that I know the guidelines for how to respect the Seven Siblings’ privacy. Is there some sort of sign, if the belam’s occupied?” Sitting directly on the marble tabletop, Tepeni leaned back on one hand, thighs spreading casually. It was a posture of invitation, beckoning Remin and Tano closer, his lean and muscular body on display. Remembering licking sweet caramel and salty cum from those rippling abs, Remin quickly looked away, only to see Panori perched on the edge of a chair, eyeing him, squirming prettily and looking flushed. Knowing how enthusiastically Panori could squirm like that astride his dick, Remin bit back a groan, glancing away and, fuck, Lokelon was rubbing himself through his tiny silver shorts, the lengthy bulge of his erection showing plainly through the fabric. When their eyes met, Lokelon grunted, winking, and Remin started to get up, ready to dive across the room, his thoughts already spinning with fantasies, memories, Lokelon winking at him and unbuttoning those shorts and climbing on top of him to“Prince Anoremin.” One hand firmly pushing, one hand soothing and coaxing, Tano forced him down again, back into his corner, and shifted slightly, presenting more of a barrier between him and everyone else. Remin was sure that Tepeni’s expression was lascivious; he couldn’t see it for himself, since he was preoccupied in staring at the way Tepeni stroked his own chest. That lingering, sensual caress. Light enough to tease, to leave him unsatisfied, to make him beg. “It’s understood that anyone in the belam is willing to be seen there,” Tepeni was explaining. Tepeni had always been adept at holding ordinary conversations while engaged in the lewdest of behaviors. “If you want privacy, you’ll go to your rooms, or elsewhere. You’re free to enter the belams at any time. The Seven Siblings don’t mind being looked at, and they won’t consider it an intrusion if you walk in while they’re...busy.” Kelano’s voice was a dark purr. “You never minded people walking in on you, did you, Prince Remin?” A low, throaty chuckle. “No, Prince Remin enjoys being watched,” Tepeni said. “Particularly when he’s at his most, shall we say, vulnerable.” Memory flashed through Remin: shackles closing around his wrists, pinning his arms overhead,

while Tepeni lazily caressed his body and Nasomi strolled in, leaving the doors wide open. “What about you, Tano? Do you like being watched?” “Yes,” Tano said without hesitation. He was aroused; Remin could hear it in his voice, and he wasn’t making any effort to disguise it. “Any time. It adds such spicy flavor to sex, don’t you think? You wonder what they’re looking at, what they’re thinking. Or you know what they’re looking at and what they’re thinking, and you know that they’re getting off on it, and you want to show off. Or, actually, the last time someone watched me, I didn’t even notice, I was so wrapped up in my partner and his pleasure. But I’ve never minded, it’s never bothered me.” It was safer to think about Tano than about Tepeni; safer to focus on Tano than the belas. He leaned closer. “Tell them,” Remin said softly. He wanted them to know what they were in for. “Which belas you prefer, which positions you like, what you want to do with them. How often you’ll send for them.” He wanted to hear Tano say it. “Which, oh,” Tano said, in sudden understanding. “I don’t have a preference, I want all of you. And all positions. I like everything, I want to do everything, as often as possible. I think that most of the time, I’ll want you when I’m with Prince Remin, so that he can enjoy you, too. But there will also be some times when it’s just me. I want to get to know all of you. And we don’t have to do what I want to do, we can do whatever you’re into. I’m not picky. It’ll be in the belam or in Prince Remin’s apartment, mostly, I think. I’m open to ideas, or criticism, if you want to experiment or if you want to teach me or if I have odd sexual habits you don’t like. And I want to learn from you, there are all sorts of things that I want to know so that I can be a better partner for Prince Remin. Like bondage, there must be ways to tie him up that he can’t escape from, and I’d like to know what those are.” While Tepeni leaned forward, Remin heard the other belas whispering to each other. “You do everything?” Tepeni asked. “Do you prefer to penetrate or be penetrated? Do you prefer to control or to be controlled? Do you want us to spank you?” “Yes.” Tano sounded thrilled and turned on. He was hard, Remin knew it, was sure of it. It took a lot of effort for Remin not to reach over and touch it. “Yes, I love all of that. That’s why I’m so excited that there are so many of you! With forty-five men, you must like all sorts of different things, and you must know things that I haven’t tried yet. It’s like a sexual playground. I do think that when I’m with Prince Remin, we should focus on his desires and his preferences, because I want to give him as much sexual pleasure as I can. But like I said, when it’s just me, you can do anything you wish. I love sex the way I love cooking. All kinds, all flavors, all techniques, I want to explore all of it.”

“You don’t have limits.” Tepeni sounded fascinated; he kept leaning in, closer and closer, his black-eyed gaze searching Tano’s face. “You’ll do anything.” “Absolutely anything,” Tano agreed. “Well, I mean, nothing illegal, nothing that would maim me or traumatize anyone. But, yes, I’ll do anything you’ll do, or anything you’ll ask me to do, I imagine.” “He’s what?” Desin asked, taken aback. “He’s where?” Anosanim asked, startled. “He’s with whom?” Talin asked dryly, just to round out the questionnaire. “I’m,” was all Rini got out before Desin snatched at him, dragging him back before he could burst into Dimi’s old apartment. While Desin and Rini were distracted, Talin slid closer to Ileka. Anosanim had kept him up all night talking about Remin and Tano and love and marriage and weddings and Ritek, and he was horny. As Anosanim questioned Ileka about what Remin was up to, Talin palmed a nice handful of Ileka’s round ass. With a pleased sigh, Ileka cuddled up to his side. Anosanim was talking about something; Talin made “I’m listening” noises and thought about nudging the head of his dick between Ileka’s pouting, pink lips. “Nisutalin!” Anosanim sounded irritated. “Are you even listening to - - oh, never mind. Go indulge yourself and come back when you’re ready to focus.” What was great about Anosanim was, he meant it; he didn’t expect Talin to protest. “It won’t take long,” Talin said, and pinched Ileka’s ass; Ileka gasped and twisted sinuously against him. “My bed?” Talin suggested, kissing his neck. “Mmm, yes.” With an aroused moan, Ileka kissed him, unfastening his belt. “Fuck me from behind first. You always go so amazingly deep, it makes me want to scream.” Cupping one hand to his ear, Rini waited, listening hard. Desin flicked him in the back of the head. “What.” “I’m waiting for the sound of bells ringing and the gods rejoicing,” Rini explained. “Talin’s getting laid.” Anosanim’s fan rapped him across the knuckles; he yelped, dropping his hand. “Stop being silly. Talin has sex all of the time.” “Sometimes,” Desin said. “Sometimes it’s every day. Sometimes it’s not for weeks and weeks in a row, like he’s taken a vow of celibacy or, or, or lost interest.” Desin

frowned, like he didn’t get it, which was fine; Rini didn’t get it either. Losing interest in sex made about as much sense to Rini as losing interest in fun and happiness and breathing, all at once. Anosanim scowled at them as if they were being unreasonable. “It depends on his mood.” Gods above, Talin’s moods. That was the last thing in the world anything should depend on. Ground tremors were more predictable. And more enjoyable. “I don’t want to talk about Talin, I want to talk about Remin. He’s behind closed doors with belas!” “And Tano,” Anosanim said in an awfully pleased tone, like that made it all better. Completely baffled by that, Rini said, “Right. With Tano. If you were trying to shove more sexual temptation into one room, you couldn’t, there wouldn’t be space, because Remin would be taking it all up with all of the sex he’s having!” “Nonsense.” Anosanim seemed very certain about that, which mystified Rini. “Tano won’t let anything happen. They’re probably just talking.” While Desin scoffed and Rini looked for a wall to bang his head against, Anosanim added, “And if they’re not, it’s none of our business.” “Remin’s fucking,” Rini said. “Just so you know.” Someone had to point it out. “Don’t be silly.” Anosanim patted his hair with one hand, which was completely unnecessary, since Anosanim’s hair never dared to move out of place. “I wanted to spend more time with Tano tonight, but if they’re busy, I’ll just catch up with him tomorrow.” “Remin’s in a room alone with Tano and Tepeni and only the gods know who else, and we’re being silly for thinking that he’s getting it?” Desin asked. “You’re being silly for not trusting them,” Anosanim said. “As if anyone’s more aware of the importance of his vows than Remin. As if anyone respects him and wants to protect him more than Tano. As if any of our belas would knowingly break the rules or cross boundaries. Remin’s as safe with Tano and the belas as he would be alone in a meadow.” Anosanim smiled, fanning himself. “Now, after the wedding, I expect a room with Remin, Tano, and the belas in it to resemble a sexual circus. Dear Tano, I hope that he can keep up. Hoping to satisfy Remin’s needs would be a challenge for anyone, but he has to work for Xio Voe, too. He’ll be awfully busy.” “Oh, we’re going to enjoy this one,” Nasomi murmured.

“Tano,” Tepeni said softly. Heat burned between Remin’s thighs at the thread of desire in Tepeni’s voice. “Will you strip for me now?” “I would,” Tano said frankly, “but not in front of Prince Remin. It’s not fair to taunt him with what he can’t have and then expect him to control himself.” “If you could partner with one person in this room,” Tepeni said. “Who would it be?” Tano laughed as if he enjoyed the question. “Prince Remin. But if you mean a bela, specifically, I don’t know. I’d have to partner with all of you, or at least watch you with each other, to know where my preferences might lie. It’s such a difficult question, because there are so many different aspects to sex, and you’re such different people. You like to perform and get off on the theatricality of it, Panori likes to be pushed around a little, Dunota likes to be penetrated, Nasomi likes to be in control, Lokelon likes to be serviced and satisfied, Tukaro likes to push someone into submission - - I love all of those things, how could I choose?” Tepeni’s voice dropped into its natural tones, stripped of artifice. “How do you know that? Prince Remin told you?” “No, the way you’re acting,” Tano said. “The way they’re moving.” He clearly took it for granted that anyone would’ve noticed what he’d recognized. Remin smiled at that. “It’s impossible to choose. I can’t even choose between direct fuck-and-done sex and teasing games. I never really decide what I want and seek that out; I just go along with whatever my partners want. Which is great, because then I always get variety from different people wanting different things. I don’t know how I’ll even decide which belam door to knock on. Maybe I’ll just choose whichever one I didn’t knock on the day before.” “Praise the gods,” Tepeni said. “You’re just what I would’ve wanted for Prince Remin. That’s the kind of sexual flexibility he needs.” “You’re the reason I got into sex work,” Lokelon said. “Guys like you. You need it, what, ten times a day?” Chuckling, squirming against Remin a little, Tano admitted, “That sounds like a terrific start.” Tepeni tilted his head to one side, smirking. “How many times have you gotten it so far today?” Remin couldn’t fucking take it anymore. “Not enough.” Grabbing Tano’s hand, he focused on the door to the next room, storming towards it, refusing to look at anything else, absolutely not looking at one single bela, hurling himself into the room, Tano bumping into him as he abruptly stopped. As he turned, the door closed, and he pushed Tano against it.

With a moan, Tano yanked him close. Remin didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to explain; Tano was right there with him, already into it, as ready and willing as he was. Remin couldn’t have Tepeni, couldn’t enjoy Dunota’s pleasures, couldn’t spread his legs for Lokelon. But this, Tano’s embrace, Tano’s sexuality, were always here for him, available to him, even when he had no one else. It was a true gift, a treasure, and it made things bearable, now, made things possible he never could’ve withstood before. Gasping, clutching at him, grinding against him, Tano kissed him with demanding lust. “Mmm, unh, yes, yes, Prince Remin,” Tano panted, groaning as Remin sucked at his neck. “I want them to hear it, oh, oh, is it okay if they hear it?” “Oh, fuck, yes.” Remin moaned, thinking of them in the next room waiting, listening, imagining. When Tano came, enthusiastic and energetic and calling Remin’s name, shuddering against Remin, hands slipping greedily over Remin’s skin, he finished with a wail. It was a genuine wail, heartfelt, one Remin had heard many times before. It was also loud enough and sharp enough to pierce the walls and be heard clearly in the next room. The thought of Tepeni hearing it, of Tukaro being turned on by it, of Panori’s noises of pleasure echoing it, flashed through Remin, and he rocked against Tano, his thoughts conjuring images of Tano tangled in Tepeni’s embrace, seducing Dunota, kissing Nasomi, on his knees with his head bobbing and his lips wrapped around Tukaro’s, ah, ah, Tano, oh, yes! Hitting a sudden spike of pleasure, coming hard at the unexpected boost, Remin thrust against Tano with a shout, caught by the powerful burst of ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled Tano’s neck, brushing his lips against the heat of Tano’s warm skin, tasting the salt of Tano’s sweat. Fuck, that had been good. “Fuck, that was good.” Tano’s fingers combed through Remin’s hair as Tano relaxed against the door. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of Panori and the way he was squirming all over that chair. I want him to squirm like that on my lap. While I’m inside him. I hope that you weren’t looking at him, because the way he’s been staring at you has been incredible.” Groaning, Remin rubbed his forehead against Tano’s neck. If Tano was going to say things like that, Remin was going to have to get off again before going back out there. “Did you see Nasomi playing with that bracelet?”

“Mmm, he was licking it.” Tano sounded fascinated. “He’s so good with his tongue, but the way he was looking at you, I knew it was more for him than for you. Fuck, that’s a turn-on.” Remin’s hands stroked up Tano’s sides, finding pleasure in Tano’s taut, warm skin, Tano’s sleek muscles. “That little box hanging off of it? He has a key in there. He keeps it on his ankle most of the time. It’s only on his wrist to remind him that he has someone tied up he needs to go unlock later.” “Fuck.” Tano’s voice trembled over a low groan; his hands rubbed restlessly across Remin’s back. “Who do you think it is?” Lusting wonder filled Tano’s words. “How many times has it been you?”

Part 276 “Unh, ungh, ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” Crying out, Talin popped his hips forward, driving hard into Ileka one last time. Uh, that was, fuck, that was good. He’d needed this tonight, needed to fuck someone as deep as he could go, as long as his body could handle it. He caught his breath while Ileka moaned ecstatically beneath him, coming wetly against his chest. Drained, Talin slumped forward and rolled to one side. With a satisfied groan, Ileka snuggled up to him, writhing happily against him. “I feel like a well-plowed field. Thank you for marvelous sex.” Grinning, Talin skimmed his fingers down Ileka’s side. They lingered for a while, quietly enjoying each other’s company, until Talin’s conscience started to irritate him and he got up. Anosanim was waiting for him and would be pissed if he didn’t show up. He washed perfunctorily and threw on some casual clothes, not bothering with shoes or jewelry. He sat down to let Ileka braid his hair for him, not because he cared how his hair looked but just to indulge Ileka. Ileka’s fingers tugged lightly through his hair, separating it. “Chef Pitok seems nice.” “He’s great.” Talin decided not to make Ileka work to pull information from him. Not after lustsex like that. “Remin can’t get enough of him. I like him, he’s friendly but he’s not pushy about it. He’s pretty laidback, he doesn’t take things personally. Except for insults to Remin, he can’t get over those.” Talin shrugged; he hadn’t realized that he knew Tano so well. “You’ll like him. He’s going to increase your workload.” “Really?” Ileka sounded eager for more. “Does he like to partner often?”

“As far as I can tell, he’ll partner with any guy who asks him.” “Mmm.” Ileka made intrigued noises. “It’s so exciting.” “What is, Tano? Or getting Remin back again?” “Both. Oh, I know that we won’t be able to partner with Prince Remin the way we used to. But some of him is better than none of him at all. We’ve missed him so much, it’s been dreadful. I can’t wait to be with him again. And Chef Pitok, unh, is there a luckier man in the world?” Talin still thought that it was kind of funny that the belas liked Remin so much they couldn’t suppress their preference for him in front of other people. He would’ve expected servants trained to please and flatter royalty to focus on him when they were with him and to pretend vaguely that they didn’t care about other men, as if he were so dazzling that they couldn’t think of anyone else. Yet the belas failed to disguise interest in other men, especially Remin. Talin liked it. The reality that the belas enjoyed partnering with other men didn’t bruise his ego, and he was glad that the belas felt comfortable enough to be honest about their own desires. “When was your favorite time with Remin?” “I don’t think that it’s my place to tell you about that. But do you remember the weekend he held that athletic competition in the courtyard?” The memory rose up so strong and clear that Talin almost choked on his own lust. “Do I remember it? That’s one of the first things I think about when I masturbate. I still get a little hard when I taste raspberries.” “We still reenact the wrestling competition, among ourselves in the belam. I can never play Jekari’s part, I always come too fast.” “Fuck.” Shuddering, Talin got up, cupping Ileka’s elbow and heading for the bed. “You get on top, I’ll be Banok.” Remin knew the belas too well. What they responded to, what they liked. They knew him too well, knew everything about him, what drove him wild, what got him off, how he looked, how he sounded, how he moved. They’d been together so intensely, they knew everything about how to fuck each other, every angle, every shift, every ragged breath. He’d spent the past few years deliberately making sure that he was never in a room with them, and this was why. Because he wanted them, and they wanted him, and he couldn’t look at them without remembering, and they knew that; they couldn’t look at him without imagining, and he knew that. For years, being near

them had been like being trapped, caught up in his own torment, riotous need pumping through him with nowhere to go. Now it had somewhere to go. Tano. He could funnel it into Tano. Everything he felt, everything he wanted, his desires, he poured into Tano. He talked to Tano, touched Tano, focused on Tano. But they were doing the same thing. They wanted Remin, but they didn’t want to push Remin too far, so they were focusing on Tano, talking to Tano, looking at Tano. Tano felt it. He was breathing hard, half of his words coming out as moans. He kept leaning into Remin, his hand kneading Remin’s thigh, his face flushed. He wasn’t embarrassed or self-conscious about the prominence of the bulge in his pants; he was having trouble not touching it, though, and so was Remin. When Remin’s hand crept into Tano’s lap, Tano took Remin’s hand, trapping it against his bare stomach. Remin wanted to go for it. Take Tano out to play. Share this wonderful new thing with the belas, show Tano off. Show the belas how much fun Tano was, how responsive Tano was, how openly enthusiastic Tano was. Let them explore Tano’s stamina, Tano’s handsome body, Tano’s lack of inhibitions. But if he couldn’t get all of what he needed, if the belas couldn’t have him or touch Tano - - there were too many restrictions in the way. Too many barriers. A boundary would be crossed, and the fun would be ruined. Remin couldn’t do nothing. He had to get something, had to do what he could. If he couldn’t share Tano with the belas, he’d share Tano with someone else. Hungry, frustrated, he took Tano to his own room and got what he could. Tano, excited by him, hot from the belas, couldn’t get enough, and they kept going, pushing and pulling at each other, giving and taking, rolling across the bed until the fire was bearable again. “What do you want to do?” Tano asked, crawling across him. Catching Tano’s hips in his hands, he leaned up, kissing Tano’s chest, Tano’s shoulder, Tano’s neck. With a lazy moan, Tano sank onto him, taking his mouth in slow, luxurious kisses. As sexy as Tano looked in those little shorts, he couldn’t wait until he could have Tano naked, freely and fearlessly naked. “Mmm. We could ask some of the belas to perform for us, if you want. Or would that just be worse?” He kissed Tano more, and more, and then he knew what he wanted. “Let’s get in the shower. I want to go out for a while.”

As the carriage rolled through the city, Tano relaxed against Prince Remin, his head on Prince Remin’s shoulder. They talked about the belas, about Prince Remin’s experience with them, about Tano’s future plans for them. Tano had been unbearably worked up, earlier; those belas were lethally sexy. A few people in Ilaeia - - sex workers, mostly - - had asked him about Anorian belas, had said that they must be overhyped, that their charms were surely exaggerated. Tano could affirm, with absolute confidence, that belas were far, far sexier in person than any rumor could suggest. He was amazed that he’d left that room without pathetically, desperately begging them to take pity on him and touch him. When they reached the inatunin, he and Prince Remin walked in companionably, holding hands. After a brief discussion at the front desk, they were taken to an observation room. Through small cut-outs in the wall, they watched half-a-dozen sex workers relax in a room together. Two of them were giving each other head; two were talking, a fourth reading while idly masturbating, a fifth napping. Tano had to admit that most of his attention was on the oral sex, and so was Prince Remin’s. They talked about those two men, about the technique on display, about which one of those two they might prefer. They talked about the other men, admiring their bodies, trying to get an idea of their personalities. Finally, Tano asked, “Which one would you like to hire?” Prince Remin’s hand drifted down Tano’s back. “Whichever one you want.” Tano watched the men for a moment longer. The firm, round ass of the sleeping man. The way one of the conversing men gestured vigorously while speaking. The way one of the conversing men kept glancing at the men giving head. The way the reading man’s hand lingered lovingly on his own half-hard dick. “I don’t know, I like the one with the book. I like that he can’t keep his hand off of it. He’s not even reading erotic material, is he? I think that’s, what does it say?” Tano squinted, trying to read the book’s cover. “He’s reading a book about farming and he can’t stop touching himself. That man is dedicated to sexual pleasure. Yeah, I definitely want him.” Laughing, Prince Remin hugged him. “He’s my choice, too. Let’s go introduce ourselves.” Sonekal was muscularly well-defined and had friendly, black eyes. His black hair was shaved on one side; his ear on the shaved side bore five silver earrings, while his other ear was bare of jewelry. As the three of them made polite conversation for a moment, his hand drifted over to rest on Tano’s hip. Tano shifted at Sonekal’s touch, knee brushing Sonekal’s thigh, and Sonekal’s hand slid back to Tano’s ass.

“A couple of guidelines,” Remin said, preferring to be clear beforehand. “Rules,” Tano corrected. “Firm rules.” “I’m good with rules,” Sonekal said. “However you want it.” “You and I won’t touch,” Remin said. “You can do whatever you want with Tano, whatever he likes.” Tano gave him a puzzled look, as if waiting for him to say something else, but no; that was all he wanted to say, tonight. Nodding, Sonekal winked at Tano. “Let’s have some fun.” Leaving hefty payment for Sonekal’s services, Remin ushered Sonekal and Tano into the carriage. As soon as the carriage door closed, Sonekal was crawling on top of Tano, pushing him back against the cushions and kissing him. Tano went with it easily, leaning back comfortably and tugging Sonekal closer. With a breathy grunt, Sonekal began to pull open Tano’s clothes. Remin loved this. He loved everything about this - - except for his own frustrated desire, his own inability to participate fully. But he loved how Tano and Sonekal went right into it, how comfortable they were in their own sexuality, how at ease they were getting to know someone new this way. They knew what they wanted and what they liked, and they weren’t shy about pursuing it. Sonekal’s hand was at Tano’s fly, opening Tano’s pants, when Tano squirmed slightly, pushing Sonekal’s hand away. Tano continued to kiss Sonekal, continued to pull up Sonekal’s tank top, and Remin thought that Sonekal might just keep going, either redirecting his attention or trying again to open Tano’s fly. But Sonekal simply asked, “What’s wrong?” between kisses, rubbing Tano’s side. “Not in the carriage?” “Unh.” Tano shifted under him, breaking the kiss to pull off Sonekal’s shirt. “Not at all.” Sonekal looked disappointed, but he shrugged, kissing Tano again. “Not in front of me,” Remin corrected. “You can do it later, while I’m out of the room.” Surprise flashed across Tano’s face. In the darkness of the carriage, he gave Remin a quick, hard look, but whatever he saw satisfied him; with a triumphant, happy grin, he kissed Sonekal again. As they were walking through the palace to their destination in the guest quarters, Tano put an arm around Remin’s waist. “Thank you.” Tano’s voice was fond but discreet. “If you have second thoughts, let me know. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” Remin murmured, “for being so patient with me.” He’d stay to watch, if he could. He’d join in fully, if he could. He couldn’t take being in the same room with Tano during something like that and keep his vows, he knew that, and he couldn’t safely take the risk. But that was no reason for Tano not to do it altogether. “You’ll tell me all about it?” Remin asked. “After?” Sonekal flashed Remin a grin. “I’ll do my best to make it a story worth retelling.” Tano couldn’t suck Prince Remin’s dick, but he had to suck someone’s dick, and Sonekal was a great partner. Sex workers were more adept at respecting boundaries than average citizens, so Tano could enjoy himself with Sonekal without reservation, without policing where Sonekal’s hands went or what Sonekal’s intent might be. Prince Remin joined them on the bed. Shirtless, he felt glorious under Tano’s hands. Sucking Sonekal’s dick down his throat while Prince Remin rubbed his inner thighs, Tano was so turned on he almost came from the way Prince Remin whispered his name. Sonekal wanted it again almost immediately, and Tano was happy to comply, happy to bob on that hard, sexy erection for a while longer, happy to share the taste of Sonekal’s cum with Prince Remin. He hated for Prince Remin to leave, oh, he hated it. It was so unfair to watch that beautiful, wonderful man walk away in isolation, unable to share in the simple joy of good sex, that it broke Tano’s heart. Sonekal nudged his thigh, pushing his knees apart with a lazy hand. Groaning, Remin rolled over in bed, flopping onto his stomach. Hips rolling, he thrust into his hand, his palm slick with pre-cum. Pushing his face into the pillow, he moaned in noisy incoherence, coming messily on the sheets. Tano’s dick. That beautiful, sexy dick. That erection which called to him so powerfully. That erection which kept begging him to touch it, to suck it, to give it a lick, just one little lick. Someone was sucking it. Touching it. Enjoying it. Bringing Tano pleasure Remin could only dream of inspiring. What was Sonekal doing? Teasing Tano, keeping it light and unsatisfying, toying with that sexy dick? No, Sonekal was a professional, Sonekal knew what Tano wanted. Sonekal would go right into it, get straight to it, suck Tano nice and hard. On the second time - - would there be a second time? - - there would be a second

time, Remin knew it, Remin was sure of it - - Sonekal would go a little more slowly, would play a little more, spend some time mouthing the head. That big, succulent head. “Rrrrgh.” Whimpering, Remin dragged a pillow over his head, hiding from the world. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was Tano doing? Crying out in pleasure. Remin could just hear it, Tano’s exquisite moans, those uninhibited groans, those fullthroated shouts, those breathy words. Tano would move around on the bed, loving it, holding onto Sonekal’s hair, coming hard. Tano. Naked. Sprawled across the bed. Breathless. Red-faced. Sweat at his temples, sweat slick on his chest. Glowing with pleasure, with satisfaction, looking happy and relieved. Remin wanted him on golden sheets, wanted him to look at Remin that way. Wanted to bring him that kind of full-body pleasure. Tano loved sex so much, got caught up in sex so well, it was brutally unfair that Remin couldn’t give that to him. Remin loved him and wanted him, but couldn’t even get him off the way that Sonekal could. And that was just a blowjob. What about all of the rest of it? What aboutThe sound of a door. Remin sat up, tossing his hair back, wanting to jump up from the bed to race to Tano, wanting to know everything. Wanting to hear it all. “Ssshhh!” “Ow!” “Stop pushing!” “I told you he’s not in here.” “If he is in here, he’s with Tano, and we shouldn’t interrupt.” “He is in here, I saw him come in, and he wasn’t with Tano. Or Tano wasn’t with him. If we’re interrupting anything, it’s just Remin masturbating, and who hasn’t walked in on that before?” Selorin sounded amused. “See anything you like?” “It’s impressive décor, isn’t it?” Bade asked in the breezy, chatty tone he used when what he really wanted to say wasn’t sufficiently prince-like. “Always something to look at.” “Whoa! Oh! Gods above, it’s you.” “Careful, please. That’s over three thousand years old.” “He startled me!” “You know, I have a lot of memories from three thousand years ago, and I don’t remember anyone being proportioned like that.”

Sinking across the bed, Remin groaned into a pillow. Sonekal was fucking Tano’s sexy, insatiable ass, and Remin’s brothers were milling around in the next room like particularly inept clowns. Tano was rolling around in bed, fucking someone, being fucked, enjoying sex, seeking pleasure, finding ecstasy, and Remin couldn’t be there. Couldn’t share it with him. Remin didn’t care if Tano had sex with Sonekal, Remin didn’t care if Tano had sex with everyone in the city - - Remin wanted Tano to have sex with anyone Tano wanted, whoever Tano chose - - but Remin wanted to be one of those people. It felt profoundly unfair that Tano could share lustsex with anyone else but couldn’t indulge in the same acts with Remin, who loved him, who was so strongly loved by him. Remin wanted to share erotic ecstasy with him, to know him intimately, learn firsthand all of his moves and twitches and sighs and desires, test his limits, indulge his tastes, fuck him until they were both exhausted and aching and finally, finally satisfied. “Remin?” “I told you he was in here!” “Are you okay?” Remin had tried to hold the world at bay for too long, and he was sick of it. He wanted to hold someone, wanted to be touched. Reaching out, he snagged the closest brother he could find, tugging Selorin down. Stretching out with him on the bed, Selorin hugged him, and he sighed, embracing Selorin, seeking the simple comfort of affection. “As soon as Tano gets back, you all have to leave.” “I’ll get everyone out,” Kudorin promised, sitting on the bed. Everyone else gathered around, Desin’s hand warm on Remin’s ankle. “Do you want to talk about Tano or about something else to get your mind off of Tano?” “What’s going on?” Rini demanded. “I’m sure that nothing’s wrong,” Anosanim said, fanning himself and eyeing Remin worriedly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong.” Remin sighed again, toying with Selorin’s hair. “We hired a sex worker. We indulged together, in our limited capacity, and then I left so that Tano could do whatever else he wanted to do.” “So, what?” Desin asked. “He’s fucking? Why didn’t you stay?” “I can’t watch that yet! I can’t be near him like that without hurling myself across the room onto his naked body. It’s easier if he can just do it without me, so he can do whatever he wants without worrying about me controlling myself. It’s just eating at me, that he’s fucking and he’s loving it and I can’t give him that.”

“Oh, Remin.” Anosanim shifted closer, one hand at his own throat, one hand patting Remin’s hip in a reassuring manner. “It won’t be much longer. This isn’t a permanent situation at all. He knows that.” “Once you’re married, you’ll be able to fuck Tano whenever you want,” Desin said. “And I really mean that. Whenever you want. I love the way he looks at you. I can tell he’s going to give it to you whenever you want it.” Rini waved his hand dismissively. “People look at me that way all of the time, too.” Selorin snorted at that, his fingers tracing Remin’s cheekbone. His gaze was assessing. “You’ve lost that pinched look.” “Have you seen how much he’s been eating lately?” Rini asked. “It’s the regular sleep, too,” Orinakin said. “You look much healthier.” He felt much healthier. Felt much better. Stronger, more open. Ready to face the world not because he was so well-defended, as before, but because he wasn’t as scared anymore. “What else has been going on besides the royal high priest getting engaged? What’ve you been up to?” There was a beat of quiet as they all paused to think about it, and then they were launching into stories and laughing and joking and nudging each other. Remin grinned, listening, enjoying a conversation that wasn’t about him or Tano or his sex life or his love life. In the back of his mind, he’d always be thinking about Tano’s quivering hole glistening with oil, Tano’s body opening around his erection, Tano begging for more. But it was nice to shift the focus onto his brothers. It was always a good idea to audit their activities, anyway. Leaving Rini unsupervised for too long tended to end badly, one way or another. “Yes,” so good, “oh, yes,” he thrust faster, caught up in the rhythm, loving it, “yes, ungh, ah!” Fuck, unh, he was going to come and it was going to be amazing. Rubbing his hands over Sonekal’s thighs, Tano drove in harder, ready for the hot explosion of climax. “Mmm!” Kudorin looked up suddenly, eyes bright with pleasure and wonder. “What?” Immediately alert, Remin watched him closely, sitting up, gaze scanning his face. “Kudorin, what?” “Oh. Nothing.” Clearing his throat, Kudorin smiled innocently. “What were you saying about-”

“You could at least tell us what it was,” Rini said. “Like, one of the gods poked you, or Xio Voe said something that caught your attention, or someone just started a war, or a new baby was just born, whatever.” “It’s, um.” Kudorin grinned, rubbing his nose. “Tano just came again. It felt nice.” “Again?” Remin demanded. “How many times has it been? How did he come, what was he doing?” “Are you,” Bade hesitated, “watching them?” “No, I’m not deliberately watching,” Kudorin said. “I just have stronger peripheral awareness of Tano than of the average citizen. I feel it whenever anyone comes, I just feel it more strongly with people I’m more emotionally, personally bonded with.” Poking Remin in the forehead, he added, “I’m not telling you anything. Tano will tell you all about it himself when he gets here. Later. After he finishes with Sonekal. It’s going to be a while, he’s really horny.” Bade rubbed his forehead, mentally sighing. He wanted to be embarrassed that Kudorin felt his orgasms. Emotionally, personally bonded with? That had to include Bade. But it was Kudorin. Who knew all about when he shaved and thought stupid things and scratched his ass. Privacy wasn’t really quite the same as it had been back in Nosupolis. He shared everything with Orinakin, and he shared everything with Kudorin, whether he liked it or not. And maybe feeling his orgasms was a nice thing, and made up for the boring, unpleasant, mundane things he did that Kudorin also knew all about. “Ah, that was great.” Sonekal cupped his ass. “You want to go again?” Yes. Yes. Tano moaned into the pillow, happy with his life. A million times, “Yes.” Kudorin snickered. I love it when Tano’s enjoying himself. Anikira grinned. “Don’t let him strain anything important. He’ll need to be in top physical condition for his wedding night.” “Uh.” Weak-kneed, Tano staggered back unsteadily, plopping down onto his ass on the bed. Woozy with pleasure, he blinked dazedly at Sonekal. “Uh.” Getting to his feet, Sonekal wiped lazily at his mouth, licking Tano’s cum from his lips. “Want me to help you get dressed?”

Words, right. Tano coughed, twitching as if he could jostle his brain back into place. “I’m okay. Do you need anything?” “No, if we’re finished, I’m good.” Sonekal stepped forward and kissed him on the mouth, giving him a friendly grin. “Thanks for the fun. And tell Prince Remin that he can ask for me any time. I’d love to see you two again sometime. The way he looked at me, I almost forgot all of my training. Felt like I was a teenager again.” Oh, yes. “I know what you mean.” Tano kissed him. “Thank you.” “Bye. And congratulations on the engagement.” With a light touch at his mouth, Sonekal strolled out of the apartment. Flopping down across his back, Tano stared at the ceiling for a moment. He wished that Prince Remin were with him. He wanted to run to Prince Remin, but he had to shower first. He couldn’t just show up in Prince Remin’s bed, reeking of another man. Or could he? Should he? Was that disgusting or sexy? Would it be offensive or welcome? If he showed up clean and dressed as if nothing had happened, would Prince Remin be disappointed? Baffled, Tano rolled over, propping his chin in his hands. How would he feel? What would he prefer if their situations were reversed? If he were sex-starved and Prince Remin had just gotten laid, he’d like it if Prince Remin tumbled into his bed fresh from another man. But he’d want to be able to explore the traces of Prince Remin’s sexual romps, and as things stood, Prince Remin couldn’t do very much venturing across Tano’s naked body. Which would just make things frustrating. It might be better to wash up and present himself fresh and clean. He’d just gotten laid without Prince Remin; it seemed like unnecessary torment to show up with the proof of it on his body. Pushing himself up, Tano rolled out of bed and went to take a quick, thorough shower. Stepping under the water, he wasn’t sure what time it was, and he was starting to feel grossly insensitive for taking so long having sex with someone else while Prince Remin waited for him. He trusted that Prince Remin didn’t begrudge his pleasure, but it was still rude of him to keep Prince Remin waiting. He should’ve been more considerate and gone back to Prince Remin earlier. After the first good fuck, maybe. But it had been so long since he’d so freely had sex, and it had felt so good, that he’d wanted to keep going, seizing more and more of it. He’d been greedy for it, and he’d indulged as much as he could, a glutton at a buffet.

Prince Remin at a buffet. The thought made him smile. His first instinct, then, was to stop by the kitchens to make something for Prince Remin before going back. But that would only make Prince Remin’s wait even longer, and he’d already been rude enough. Turning under the water’s hot spray, Tano closed his eyes. His body ached in sweet, wonderful, welcome ways. He was engaged to the most magnificent man in the world. With a happy moan, he sent up another prayer. Anoha Anosukinom. Life was good. They were talking about where all of their aunts and uncles were, and who might take the longest to get back to Orikodisata for Remin’s wedding, when Kudorin suddenly sat up straighter. “Tano.” Swiftly kissing Remin’s cheek, he clapped his hands, and everyone disappeared. Suddenly alone in the room, Remin rolled over, looking around. Kudorin must have meant that Tano was coming back, but-ah, there. The sound of the door. “Tano?” Remin called, to make sure. “Prince Remin.” Tano came into the room with a wide smile, handsome and cheerful. He looked the way he always did: bright, friendly, tidy. Remin had pictured him flushed, sweaty, pleasure-dazed. Tano appearing so entirely normal meant that Tano had just had hours of intense, professional sex and walked away as if nothing had happened. Which Remin, to his own surprise, found to be a fantastic turn-on. Tano taking it so neatly in stride was a nice hint at Tano’s sexual capacity. “Did Prince Anosanim come by? I’m glad, I kept you waiting forever and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken so long, I’m glad that you weren’t just sitting here waiting for me alone.” “How can you tell?” Remin didn’t see any clues, like a stray fan left behind. “His perfume.” As Tano climbed onto the bed, Remin drew him close, rolling over a couple of times. With a grateful moan, he kissed Remin, rolling them over in the other direction until they settled on their sides. Remin’s first move was to get rid of Tano’s vest; Tano’s first move was to caress Remin’s ass, cupping, lightly squeezing. “I can’t wait until it’s you, I can’t wait until you’re the one pushing inside me. Oh, mmm.” Tano’s happy sigh sounded pleased, content, and his caress along Remin’s thigh was slow, lingering. “Thank you so much for tonight.” Tano had just experienced sexual satisfaction, something Remin had flirted with but not truly known for years. Tano was at ease; they shared lazy, messy kisses, Remin tormenting himself by slowing down to Tano’s pace, enjoying what Tano gave, not pushing for more. Tano’s pliancy was intriguing, arousing; Remin wanted

to toy with him, caress him where Sonekal had been. Nuzzling Tano’s neck, wanting to strip him and examine every inch of him, Remin grunted at Tano’s soft gasp of pleasure, feeling smug. Even after hours of sex with another man, Tano tumbled happily into Remin’s embrace, still sought Remin’s kiss. It was a nice thing to know. He ran his hands over Tano’s muscular back, wondering if Sokenal had kissed Tano there, scratched Tano there, ejaculated on Tano there. Brushing his nose against Tano’s nose, his cheek against Tano’s cheek, he whispered, “Tell me how you found your pleasure.” “Hmm.” Tano’s fingers skimmed his jaw. “It was great. Can I tell you everything? You want to hear all of it?” Yes. “From the beginning, from when I left.” Kissing Tano, Remin slid a hand to his own groin, palming himself. He kissed Tano’s chin, Tano’s mouth, wanting to taste Tano, feeling a loving, yearning hunger. “It took me a minute to be sure.” Tano’s gaze was direct, his voice frank and confiding, his naked foot rubbing lightly along Remin’s calf. “It, uh.” His gaze dropped to Remin’s dick; Remin’s hand slowed, Remin’s blood stirring, as Tano watched. “Shit,” Tano muttered breathlessly, seemingly to himself. “Why can’t that have been the one I just partnered with?” The longer Tano stared, the more Remin liked it. Turned on, aroused by the fascination in Tano’s expression, loving the way Tano watched so openly, Remin stroked himself rhythmically, his hips following the pace of his hand, the deep urge to fuck someone - - fuck Tano - - stirring in his blood. His fingers streaked with pre-cum, Remin passed his hand over the head a last time and raised his hand to Tano. Lust flashing across Tano’s expression, Tano licked Remin’s palm. Tano’s tongue was agile and thorough; both of them groaned in pleasure as Tano sucked two fingers into his mouth. Wanting more, gripped by the hot, aching need for more, Remin nudged Tano, who rolled back easily, letting him on top. Pushing his fingers deeper into the wet suction of Tano’s mouth, rubbing his thumb across Tano’s full lower lip, Remin groaned, his free hand curling around his dick. Tano’s moan rose, shuddering on the air. Sucking softly at Remin’s rhythmically stroking fingers, he reached for Remin’s hips, gripping Remin’s thighs. With each pulse of pleasure biting through Remin, Tano’s eyes closed in rapt desire, then opened again with new yearning, staring eagerly at Remin as if afraid of having missed something. “I want you to have lustsex whenever you want it.” Needing to put his mouth on Tano, he kissed Tano’s cheek, bit gently at Tano’s jaw. His fingers caressing Tano’s tongue, his thumb riding the curves of Tano’s lips, he kissed Tano, Tano

kissing him across his knuckles, his other hand tugging eagerly at his dick as Tano moaned his name and orgasm jerked that much closer. “I want you to fuck anyone you want, anywhere you are,” Remin whispered. Tano moaned again, nodding, fingers skirting the cleft of his ass, making him squirm. “You don’t need my permission, you don’t even have to tell me about it, I just want to know that it’s a part of your life. I want you to be as free as I once was, I want you to do what I can’t do.” With a groan, Tano pushed Remin hard, rolling them over, pinning him down. Remin stared up at Tano, chest heaving. “I can’t make up for everything you’re missing,” Tano said, panting. “But I’ll do my best to make it easier on you.” Sliding down the bed, Tano kissed across the top of Remin’s thigh, licking slowly and moaning as if savoring the taste. Tano’s face was too close to Remin’s groin, that licking tongue too close to Remin’s erection, and Remin groaned, bucking, gripping himself as Tano sucked at his thigh. Yes, oh, yes. As he came, moaning, writhing in ecstasy, gasping with relief, splattering Tano’s shoulder with his cum, Remin admitted to himself that, if anyone could make up to him for a lifetime of wanting, Tano could. Tano had really underestimated himself. Or underestimated Prince Remin. Really, really underestimated Prince Remin. For some reason, he’d imagined that he’d had such a thoroughly satisfying sexual romp with Sonekal, his urge would be dulled for the rest of the night, and he wouldn’t really get going again until morning. Had he ever been wrong. He couldn’t have been more wrong if he’d said that down was up and up was down. People hypothesizing that most dogs were born with six legs were less wrong than he’d been. In the future, anyone teaching the definition of “wrong” would begin with, “There was a guy named Naritano who really revolutionized the concept of wrongness. You’ll never believe what he thought one night!” Being around Prince Remin and not responding sexually was impossible. Tano wasn’t just around Prince Remin, he was in Prince Remin’s bed, talking about sex, while Prince Remin was naked and aroused and masturbating and kissing him and moaning and looking at him with those hypnotizing, lusting, magnificently golden eyes. Tano’s body was not finished for the night. It seemed to be just getting started. He and Prince Remin couldn’t be this close without touching, and they couldn’t touch this much without kissing, and Prince Remin was entirely bare all over, and Tano only had shorts on, and Tano was talking about sex, and Prince Remin kept doing all of those incredible things Prince Remin did whenever they were alone like this -

- undulating with sinuous, fluid ripples of muscle, stroking his dick as if lovingly showing off the most magnificent cock in the world to a stunned crowd, moaning in that richly sensual way, his lashes lowered in a thick fringe but suddenly rising as he looked at Tano with a sudden golden fire. Tano was so turned on he was joining in, keeping up, jacking himself, often matching Prince Remin’s pace, falling into the rhythm of Prince Remin’s hand. He found himself having difficulty talking and making out and breathing all at once, so he sacrificed breathing, panting between sentences, between kisses. There was so much of Prince Remin to touch that he couldn’t decide where to put his hand - the one that wasn’t gripping his dick - - and he was forever switching around, caressing Prince Remin’s perfectly creamy skin, stroking the gorgeously detailed lines of Prince Remin’s lean, muscular body, losing his fingers in the soft wealth of Prince Remin’s hair, treating himself to a tour of Prince Remin’s beautiful face. Kissing his mouth, nuzzling against him, nipping at his neck, Prince Remin rolled them over, finding his mouth again with a soft, vibrating moan. “What,” light gasp, “what next,” breathy moan, “after that?” Tano couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about. Which words had he said recently? How could he be expected to follow along in a conversation when Prince Remin was moaning like that? What had, “Mmm, oh,” something about mouth, his mouth, no - - oh, maybe, right, the second blowjob. “He already, mmm, we already had the oil out, and he started fingering me, going in there, really opening me up.” The way Prince Remin groaned at that made Tano’s whole body jerk with need. Loving how much his story turned both of them on, Tano squeezed his own dick, waiting until Prince Remin broke their kiss to continue. “He was teasing me, oh, talking to me, telling me how much he wanted to fuck me, telling me how hot I looked, asking me how badly I wanted it. Ah, ooh, I couldn’t take it, I was squirming all over the bed, I had oil running down my thighs. He pushed me facedown and, yeah, unh, rubbed his dick between my thighs to wet it, and then he went in and it felt so good. He was rock-hard and had me at just the right angle, I started coming from the first thrust. Ungh, yes, Prince Remin, gods above, unh. I was coming and howling and gasping out, begging for more, and he was pounding me, going in hard. He had me right where he wanted me and he was making the most of it.” Tano gasped for air, kissing Prince Remin and dragging his fingers through Prince Remin’s hair. When Prince Remin pushed a pillow between their bodies, Tano immediately bucked against it, groaning at the exquisite friction, grinding his hips against it, seeking pleasure. “Mmm, yes, ah. It was so good, it was fantastic, it was deep, he

was confident, you know, forceful, but not rough, not sloppy. He, ah, oh, fucked me with a lot of power and a lot precision. I love being fucked by someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.” “Mmm, I know you do.” Groaning, Prince Remin rolled back, dragging him closer, nails scratching across the back of his neck. Loving it, gasping, Tano rocked harder against the pillow, trying to fuck Prince Remin through it, wanting Prince Remin to feel the driving rhythm of his hips. “Oh, uh, I love you,” he whispered, getting a thrill just out of being able to say it, being free to confess it, knowing that it was requited and meaningful. “Right when he went into me, I came in my hand. And then he was pounding my ass, and every time he slammed into me my whole body jerked on the bed, and it started to push my dick into this fold in the sheet, and it felt great, I started riding it, I was humping the bed, and the more I moved the harder he fucked me, and he had his hand on the back of my head, rubbing the back of my neck, running his fingers through my hair, ah, ah, fuck, I was yelling, yelling every time he slammed into me, he just kept hitting that spot, so deep, over and over again, I, ah, mmm, uh, Prince Remin, oh…” Completely losing his line of thought, Tano arched against Prince Remin, crying out as a spike of pleasure went through him and Prince Remin came, groaning heatedly in his ear, jism splattering his thigh. Panting, Prince Remin moaned, “Mmm, oh, Tano,” rubbing his thigh and licking the side of his neck. “Tell me the rest of it.” Desin shrugged, stretching his arms along the back of the blue couch. “I don’t care who my wife has lustsex with, as long as she’s having lovesex with me.” “I don’t think that I’ll have much sex outside of my marriage,” Anosanim said, dropping down onto a blue footstool and opening one of Selorin’s jewelry boxes. “Oh, I’ll still partner with the belas, naturally, but other than that, I just don’t think so. Although, if my husband wants to, well, I suppose that I don’t mind it, as long as he’s properly attentive and considerate with me.” “If I had a husband. A wife. A husband. A wife.” Frowning, Rini rolled onto his back on the floor, drumming his fingers on his stomach. “If I had a spouse,” he decided, “we’d have sex with anybody we wanted whenever we wanted. I don’t really get why marriage and monogamy have to go together. When we get married, you don’t suddenly have to eat only with me or talk only with me or be friends only with me, so why do you have to have sex only with me?” “In most other cultures,” Orinakin began.

“Ugh, yeah, whatever.” Rini sat up, peering at Orinakin. “Babies and inheritances and whatever, right?” Orinakin smiled at him. “Generally, yes.” With a sigh, Rini flopped back down. “Gross. It’s just gross that you have to live your life worried about that stuff. It sounds so depressing.” “It’s not depressing,” Bade objected. “It’s normal.” Anosanim bit his lip, feeling a pang of guilt. It was awfully inconsiderate of them to insult other cultures in front of Bade, who’d grown up in that way of life. They were just so used to Bade’s presence that they forgot to mind their manners, sometimes. “Sure,” Rini said, “but if everybody in Nosupolis walked around with big heavy stone collars around their necks, weighing them down, you’d think that was normal, too. Especially if Granete did the same thing. That doesn’t make it smart or right or the best way to do it, that just makes it common. Normal doesn’t mean best, normal means ordinary, and since when is ordinary what we all eagerly strive for?” “Extra, really,” Anosanim said, closing the jewelry box. “How dreadful. It’s terribly unfair of you to speak so callously of other cultures, especially of our dear, sweet Bade’s culture. As if in all of these years, no one in Nosupolis ever considered the issue for himself and tried to figure out another way of doing things. This is the way they do things now, and maybe there’s room for change, but belittling people is no way to encourage positive change.” Considering the subject closed, he glanced at Selorin, who was curled up lazily on another sofa, idly toying with Bade’s laces. “I do wonder, Selorin, how you’d feel about your husband continuing to partner with other people?” “Mmm?” Selorin shrugged, picking at the laces at Bade’s hip. “I don’t care. No.” He sat up straighter, frowning slightly. “That’s not true, I do care. I won’t mind either way, if he partners only with me, or with other people. As long as he’s completely, completely devoted to me and infinitely prefers me above all other partners.” Talin snorted. Desin rolled his eyes. Anosanim smiled; it was just like Selorin to be so honest about his selfishness. “Orinakin feels that way about Bade,” Rini pointed out. “But Bade literally gets Orinakin off like no one else can. Anikira and Xio Voe feel like that about Kudorin, but he’s, you know, Kudorin. I don’t know what you think is so special about you that your husband’s going to feel that way about you.” “Your boyfriends do it, but they only have to keep that going for a month,” Desin said. “It’s easy to be that excited about somebody for a month, but it’s going to wear off fast.”

Selorin smiled, running his fingers along Bade’s jaw, tipping Bade’s face towards his, gazing warmly into Bade’s eyes. “Nonsense. I’m very personally charming, aren’t I?” Caught in Selorin’s gaze, Bade smiled helplessly. “You are.” “Great,” Rini said. “You can marry Bade, then.” While the conversation continued, Anosanim drifted around the room, picking up this, putting down that, poking at books. He felt restless, and he knew why. He wasn’t happy about Talin. He was worried and agitated and frustrated and hurt about Talin, for Talin, at Talin. Talin was being too quiet tonight. He’d hardly said anything for hours now. Anosanim didn’t like it. Sometimes it was good when Talin was quiet, when it was a good-natured quiet, when Talin was in harmony with the world and would rather sit back and enjoy than snap and sneer and roll his eyes. But sometimes it was bad, sometimes it meant that Talin was pulling away, isolating himself, busy with his own thoughts. When Talin started thinking things he wouldn’t talk about, Anosanim got nervous. Anosanim knew what Talin was thinking about, tonight. It was the same thing they’d both been thinking about since Remin had become engaged, since Remin had fallen in love, since Remin had met Tano, since forever ago, it seemed. Hitari. Talin almost getting engaged. Talin proposing. Talin being so in love with that snake that he’d pledged himself to a lifetime of partnership and togetherness. It hurt Anosanim when the pain became so sharp that Talin pulled away. It hurt Anosanim when Talin didn’t pull away, when Talin smiled and laughed and teased and rolled his eyes as if nothing were wrong. Because something was still very wrong. Anosanim knew Talin, understood Talin, saw right inside. Talin wasn’t at peace with his past and ready to move forward. Not Talin, not now. If Talin could look at Remin and Tano, and be happy for them, and feel some sort of hope that a good relationship was in his own future, that would be healthy. That would reassure Anosanim that Talin’s healing process was finally in a good place. But Talin looked at Remin and Tano, and was happy for them, and that was it. There was no hint of wonder, no streak of hope, no mention of, “Maybe I’ll have that someday.” There was either withdrawal and regret - - faint, hidden, because Talin didn’t want to intrude on Remin’s happiness, because Talin didn’t want to spoil their family’s good time - - borne of the pain of betrayal and loss.

Or there was nothing. No personal reaction, no private contemplation, no reflection on Talin’s own romantic life. Which would’ve been fine, under any other circumstances, but Talin’s own situation, Talin’s relationship with Hitari, was still fresh and close, still relevant, still altering Talin’s life in other ways. Talin would make progress here, but backslide there; would be normal for a couple of spectacular days, then spend a week with agony all over his face. For Talin not to respond privately to Remin’s engagement meant that Talin didn’t think that it was personally relevant. Which meant that Talin was cutting himself off, isolating himself, removing himself from the situation. That couldn’t be healthy. That couldn’t be a sign of wellness. Oh, Anosanim didn’t know what he wanted. He wasn’t happy when Talin was quiet and withdrawn. He wasn’t happy when Talin was involved and participatory. He just wanted Talin to be normal again, healthy, whole. He had to believe that Talin would be better, one day. But how long would it be until that happened? What would it take? Why couldn’t anything Anosanim did to help be enough? Why did Talin have to be so strictly punished for Hitari’s crimes? Standing at a bookcase, Anosanim felt a hand on his back. Glancing over, he found Orinakin giving him a concerned, questioning look. With a flash of guilt for having disturbed Orinakin with his glumness and worry, Anosanim gave Orinakin a reassuring smile. Orinakin didn’t buy that at all, so Anosanim leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’m fine,” he promised, under the cover of Desin’s story about - what was Desin talking about, goats? “Okay,” Orinakin said, giving him a fond smile and touching his cheek. “Any time you want to talk.” Orinakin was so kind, and so considerate about giving people room. Anosanim knew that Talin would prefer it if Anosanim were that way, too, but, no. Anosanim had given Talin enough space. It was time to talk it out. Prince Remin was so turned on from Tano’s words and he was being so incredibly sexy that Tano wanted to tell him everything, tease him with the words, give him detail after detail to fuel his fantasy. Tano made his voice low, sultry, and intentionally filled with lust. “He felt perfect.” Tano let the memory of the pleasure tinge his voice, his hands rubbing in slow, lingering strokes over Prince Remin’s sides. Such exotically smooth skin, Prince Remin was a luxury to touch. “So tight around my dick, I went in deeper just to get more of him.” “Nnn.” Wincing slightly, Prince Remin bit his lower lip, groaning as his fist slowly rode the length of his beautiful erection.

“I had the best view of him, all of him. He had his hands behind his knees, holding his legs up, and I kept running my hands over his thighs. They were so hard, so muscular, I kept gripping him there, wanting to feel him. He was sweating, his chest was glistening with it. You saw him, that gorgeous chest, those hard pecs, I had my hands all over him, pinching those thick, pink nipples.” With a groan, Prince Remin curled his leg over Tano’s, coaxing Tano’s body closer. “How did he sound, how was he moaning?” “Oh, wow.” Tano moaned a little himself, just thinking about it, rubbing Prince Remin’s silky, perky ass. “He sounded great. He had that deep moan, you heard it, the way he was moaning when he came in my mouth. That low, rumbling, satisfied moan, he did the same thing when I went into him, when I put my dick in him and he could feel me filling him up. And then he had this higher, breathier sound, when he started panting, when he was getting excited, moaning kind of like, ‘Oohhh, oohhh, oohhh.’” Shivering, feeling desire shoot through him as Prince Remin lightly echoed the sound, Tano let his fingers drift along the cleft of Prince Remin’s ass, teasing himself, testing himself. “He talked a lot, when he was getting ready to come. He told me to, ‘Work it, work that dick, fuck my ass, give it to me,’ and he sounded, you know, commanding, like he needed it, like he had to have it, like I was keeping something amazing from him. It made me really want to give it to him, it made me really pound in there, I loved it.” Grunting with pleasure, Prince Remin watched him from beneath a gilded fringe of lowered lashes, lips parted. Cheeks flushed with arousal, Prince Remin panted softly. “Tell me how you touched him.” “Mmm.” Stretching for it, Tano reached for a curved dildo on the bedside table, moaning at the feel of his body rubbing along Prince Remin’s, hearing Prince Remin’s light gasp of pleasure. “I was enjoying it so much, I didn’t want to rush, so I didn’t get him off too fast.” Touching the head of the dildo to Prince Remin’s chest, he rubbed it over a nipple; arching, Prince Remin groaned, foot dragging up the back of Tano’s leg. “I loved how hard he was, that long, sexy dick. I couldn’t wait to get him in my mouth again, to feel it so smooth against my lips. I handled him lightly at first, a loose, easy grip.” He moved his hand over the dildo, his fingers making a relaxed circle around the shaft. “I just wanted the feel of him, just wanted him to know he was being handled. Ooh, mmm, I love the feel of a hard, responsive dick in my hands.” “Nnn, fuck.” Gasping slightly, Prince Remin splayed one hand against Tano’s chest, rubbing up toward Tano’s shoulder. Prince Remin’s hand was hot, and Tano moaned, arching into it, wanting more.

“He had such a great, hard dick, I couldn’t resist it, and I started giving him more, started really jacking it. Slower at first, I loved that curve, it felt so great. I was fucking him the whole time, and it was getting to me, I couldn’t take it anymore, I just wanted to come. That fantastic ass was gripping me and I was going as deep as I could and I had to get off, I was so turned on I was practically delirious with it. I had a good, tight hold on him,” Tano’s hand sped up on the dildo, faster now, faster, “and I was really giving it to him, and he was making that breathy, excited sound, and I know I was loud, I was probably yelling, I couldn’t get in him fast enough. I jerked his dick hard, and he made this rough, groaning sound, like, ‘Uuunngh,’ and he came. Cum was just arcing out of him, all over that gorgeous, sweaty chest. That was all I needed to see, that was all it took, seeing him come like that had me coming, too. I got off inside him, I was deep in there already and still pushing for more. It was incredible, to be fucking again, to feel all of that heat and muscle so close around me, to be so far inside another man again.” “Nnn, oh, oh, aahhh.” Shuddering, Prince Remin tugged on his dick, his other hand on Tano’s chest, touch hot, nails scratching lightly down Tano’s pec. The way Prince Remin was gasping drew Tano forward; kissing him, Tano caressed his taut thigh, his smooth ass, squeezing. Prince Remin’s lusting moans were muffled in Tano’s kiss, and Prince Remin’s sinuous writhing made Tano touch him more boldly, hungrily exploring his body as Prince Remin shuddered, the unmistakable spurt of wetness spilling across Tano’s stomach. With a weary, needy groan, Prince Remin took the dildo from Tano’s hand, rubbing it across Tano’s abs, coating it in the fresh slick of cum. Mmm, yes. With a hungry groan, Tano parted his lips, and as Prince Remin raised it, Tano ducked his head, sucking it in. Oh, fuck, yes. The taste of Prince Remin’s thick, salty cum was always intoxicating, but licking it from the head of a dick, yes, that was a treat to be savored. Moaning, Tano lapped it up, panting greedily as Prince Remin rubbed it against his lips. “Tell me more,” Prince Remin said, his voice soft and thick with desire. He drew the dildo away just an inch; Tano chased it, licking after it eagerly, moaning with happy satisfaction at getting to suck it again. “Tell me how he went down on you. Mmm, no, show me.”

Part 277 Anosanim had thought that maybe if he waited for a quiet, peaceful moment and broached the subject gently, he and Talin could have a meaningful, productive discussion. Biding his time, he waited until he and Talin were in bed and the room was still. Then, brushing his hand across Talin’s chest, he began, “Talin, I-”

Talin’s hand covered his mouth. Now, really! “Mmf, Talin!” Squirming out from under Talin’s hand, Anosanim pushed Talin’s arm away. “We need to talk about this.” Wordlessly, Talin rolled over, turning his back to Anosanim. Frowning at the back of Talin’s head, Anosanim was tempted to pull his hair. “You’re certainly welcome to be prickly and difficult with other people, but you might trouble yourself to be decent to me.” “I am being decent,” Talin growled. “I haven’t told you to shut the fuck up, Anosanim.” “The sooner you open up and start talking to me, the sooner I’ll let it go. I need to know how you feel and, and where you are in this healing process. One day you’re funny and cheerful, the next day you’re bitter and angry, then you’re just withdrawn. One day you’re flirting with Ritek and the next day you’re having sex with belas and then you don’t want to go near another man for the rest of your life. I don’t know how to help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, and I can’t figure out what you need from me. How do you feel about Remin getting engaged? Are you happy? Jealous? Regretful? Do you-” Flipping around to face him, Talin dropped a pillow across his face. “Go to sleep.” Swallowing a shout of frustration, Anosanim knocked the pillow away and pushed at Talin. Honestly, as if he enjoyed irritating Talin! He wasn’t doing this for his own entertainment, he was trying to help! Facing away again, Talin reached back and pushed at Anosanim in retaliation. Glaring at Talin’s back, Anosanim gave into childish impulse, reached towards Talin’s back, and shoved. Pushed forward, Talin turned slowly, red eyes glittering. As if he found Talin’s temper the least bit threatening. Still irritated, Anosanim kicked at Talin’s legs. “If you weren’t so - - aahhh!” Anosanim rolled away as Talin lunged. Sprawled comfortably across the ceiling, watching his brothers wrestle and play, Kudorin moved a few valuable antiques out of the way. They were evenly matched; there would be no clear victor, no end, until someone called it off. Talin was too stubborn; it was up to Anosanim to call a truce, but Anosanim was riled enough, and doing well enough, to appreciate the opportunity to release some stress.

Kudorin wanted to hug them and love them and explain to them that everything would be all right, that it would all work out, that they were young and hurt and confused now but it wouldn’t be that way forever. But it was good for them to express their frustrations, and they weren’t actually hurting each other, so he waited. Grunting in frustration, Anosanim tried to twist away, but Talin’s grip was too tight. “Aargh! Just let me, nnn, stop it!” Closing his thighs around Talin’s waist, he angled and pushed and rolled. Talin cursed at him, surging upward, and they crashed into a decorative table. Gasping, Anosanim looked up in horror, waiting for an antique blown glass dove to crash down to the floor, bracing himself, knowing that the carpet wouldn’t save it. Absolutely aghast, he cringed. Nothing fell. Taking advantage of his preoccupation, Talin pinned him down. “Give the fuck up!” What? “On loving you and trying to help you?” Anosanim asked. “Don’t be silly. Now let me up, something’s wrong.” Squirming free and pushing Talin aside, Anosanim got up, tossing his hair back and looking for the dove. It was on the table, right where it should’ve been. How peculiar. It hadn’t moved at all, as if the table hadn’t even been bumped. “You can love me without demanding to know every thought in my head,” Talin grumbled, stalking towards the bed. “I don’t have to know every thought in Desin’s head,” Anosanim said. “I don’t have to know every thought in Anikira’s head. But when you go off into your own thoughts and won’t talk to me about what’s going on, that means that something’s wrong. What kind of brother would I be if I ignored that and pretended everything was okay?” “You’d be the kind of brother who lets me handle my own problems.” Standing by the foot of the bed, Talin glared at him. “It might be nice to be treated like an independent adult who can take care of myself.” “Anikira and Xio Voe are independent adults, and Kudorin hovers over them, monitoring their every move. Orinakin’s an independent adult, and he doesn’t take a step without Bade. Remin’s an independent adult, and Tano feeds him by hand. Honestly, Talin, I think that I’ve given you a great deal of free rein. I back off to give you space and to let you heal on your own, but it always comes down to this, to you not getting any better without me.”

Talin’s eyes narrowed. “You’re comparing us to married couples.” Anosanim sighed, rolling his eyes. Talin just had to find something to fuss about. “Stop picking apart my sentences and address the problem, please.” Climbing back into bed, Anosanim settled in under the covers and waited. Groaning, Talin dragged a hand through his hair, then got in beside Anosanim. “I’m not over it, I’m never going to be over it, I don’t expect my life to turn out in rainbows and sunshine and happy endings but I’m still rooting for Remin. He’s really happy with Tano, and he deserves it.” Atrocious, but honest. Anosanim rolled closer to Talin, resting his head on Talin’s shoulder. “You deserve it, too.” Talin’s arm snaked around his waist, holding him close. “I’m sorry that I pulled your hair.” Anosanim grimaced. “I’m sorry that I kneed you.” Talin’s tone darkened. “You’d better be.” As Anosanim and Talin fell asleep, Kudorin stepped down into the room. Kissing them and blessing them, he watched them sleep, infusing them with peace, reminding them of his love. He stayed for a while, just watching, adoring them, enjoying them, listening to the rhythm of their hearts. Leaving them, he drifted into Remin’s bedroom. He tidied things up a little, so that they wouldn’t waken on dirty, cum-stained sheets. Sensing his presence, Remin wakened slightly, mumbling, “Anoha An’s’kinom,” and burrowing in against Tano’s back. Petting Remin, Kudorin watched Tano sleep. His new brother, a new member of the family. It pleased Kudorin to have Tano among them. Stopping by Selorin’s room, he stole a bracelet from Selorin’s wrist. He’d give Selorin another one, later; he wanted the sapphires from this one for a new necklace. Plopping down to sit on Anikira’s bed, he dismantled Selorin’s bracelet. “Do you think that I hover?” “Yes.” Tucking her face against his thigh, she closed her eyes drowsily. “Is everything okay?” “Everything’s fine.” He stroked her hair as she went back to sleep. Rolling sapphires across his palm, he pondered Selorin for a while, amusing himself with peeks into Selorin’s future, ruminating on issues of truth and justice. Then he went to wake Xio Voe and raise the sun.

What an amazing morning. Tano didn’t know why it felt like such a great morning, but it did. He felt so alive. So refreshed. Maybe because he’d finally gotten some deep, pounding sex. Maybe because he was engaged to the most magnificent man in the world. Lingering in Prince Remin’s bed, he spent a moment in prayer. Then, forcing himself away, he went to shower and get to the kitchen. It was hard to leave Prince Remin’s bed, but it was easier to do when he thought about having to face down King Xio Voe if he didn’t. What a beautiful morning! Anosanim wandered in the courtyard as he brushed his hair, wishing that he could see the world through Talin’s eyes. Such a beautiful day, full of birdsong and vibrant color. Sinking down to the grass to inhale the fragrant scent of gorgeously blossoming flowers, Anosanim sighed fondly. A day like this shouldn’t be spent cooped up indoors; he absolutely despaired at the thought of Selorin closed up in that courtroom all afternoon. And Orinakin, too busy with work to enjoy a break! And Tano, sweating in that noisy kitchen. Anosanim was going to have to do something about that! Looking forward to his day, Remin found himself humming one of Tano’s favorite songs of praise. As he left his apartment, he found Rikano and Nakili in the hallway. While Nakili hung back shyly, Rikano stepped forward with a hesitant smile. A few months ago, in this situation, Remin would’ve become anxious, felt defensive, acted very formally, and escaped as quickly as possible. Today, however, he felt curious. He wondered, first, what they wanted. He also wondered what he could get away with. He really, really wanted to touch them, and he thought that it just might be feasible. He’d learned self-control, hadn’t he? They were deliciously sexual, their taut bodies and bare skin tempting him. Dragging his gaze up from Rikano’s exquisitely chiseled abdomen, Remin made eye contact. “Good morning to you both.” “Good morning,” they murmured. Liking the way Nakili’s little silver shorts hugged his genitals and left his firm, muscular thighs bare, Remin struggled not to step forward, not to reach out. It would be okay if he knelt down and licked Nakili’s thigh, right?

“We wanted to congratulate you, Prince Remin,” Rikano said. “On your engagement to Chef Pitok.” Right! Yes. Tano. Oh, he could definitely lick Tano’s thigh. Fuck, he loved Tano’s thighs. So strong and masculine. So easy to crawl between. “We’re very glad that you’re happy,” Nakili said. “Anoha Ilanosa, we hope that you enjoy a joyful marriage with him.” Typical; they were being thoughtful and friendly, and he was rabidly horny. “Thank you,” Remin said. Deliberately testing himself, he took Rikano’s hand the way he’d take any Anorian’s. “It’s very kind of you. Tano and I are immensely happy together.” He shouldn’t have done that; Rikano was drifting forward, staring at him with hope and desire, squeezing his hand in light, rhythmic pulses. Remin would’ve bolted, but he’d been running from the problem for years; maybe it was time to address it directly. “Gods above, I want to fuck you.” “Oh, I miss you.” With a miserable, lusting moan, Rikano stepped forward and hugged him. It had been years since he’d hugged a bela, but Remin remembered every perfect inch of Rikano’s body. “Ooohh, fuck, yes.” Embracing Rikano, Remin groaned with pleasure, his hands skimming over Rikano’s strong shoulders, down Rikano’s muscular back, over that luscious, round ass. Gods above, that felt good. Loving the softness of Rikano’s ass, Remin nipped at Rikano’s earlobe. “I can’t wait to watch Tano fuck you. Do you remember the-” “Oh, fuck, come on, this can’t be good. What are you doing?” Desin demanded. Remin was about to protest, but as Desin tried to tug them apart, he realized that it was probably a very, very good idea for Desin to intervene. So, hating it, he let Desin wrench them apart and drag him away. Sagging against the wall, even in his frustration, he felt good. He’d hugged Rikano, had felt Rikano’s lean, supple body against him, and hadn’t immediately disgraced himself. He hadn’t turned into some wicked, uncontrollable beast. He’d handled it amazingly well, for his first effort. “Sorry,” Desin was telling Rikano. “I know you were enjoying that, but it’s probably better to wait until after he’s married.” “I’m sorry, Prince Desin, Prince Remin. I shouldn’t have-” “You should have,” Remin said. Reaching past Desin, he squeezed Rikano’s hand. “I’m glad that you did. Your ass feels as fabulous as it ever did. I can’t wait to fuck Tano while he slams it in and makes you beg for more.” Nakili gasped, drawing closer; Rikano moaned, face flushed, trying to step around Desin to get to Remin.

Hooking an arm around Rikano’s waist to block his way, Desin laughed. “Great as it is to hear you talking like this, maybe you could wait until we have more referees or more restraints or more Tano.” “You’re going to love Tano,” Remin told Nakili. “He’s not shy about what he likes, and he’s great about taking control. I can just see him coaxing you down, teasing you open, taking it nice and slow, and then fucking you, hard, over and over again, keeping you there, coming back for more, until-” “Remin!” Desin exclaimed, laughing. “Gods above, I forgot how much trouble you used to cause. Stop taunting people.” “No, no,” Nakili said, brushing Desin aside, moving forward, one hand drifting down Rikano’s body. “Keep going.” “You’ll fuck Chef Pitok while he partners with us?” Rikano asked. “You’ll fuck us through him?” Feeling a hot curl of lust lick through him, Remin moaned, reaching forward. “Yes, I will. We’ll go at the same rhythm together, and you’ll feel me thrusting into him, you-” “Shit, Remin.” Desin smacked his hand from the muscular smoothness of Rikano’s thigh. “Go, go. You’re getting them all worked up when you know you can’t do anything about it.” “All worked up,” Remin murmured, eyeing the way Nakili’s hand was rubbing over Desin’s chest. “Yes. Worked up and turned on and in desperate need of a strong, virile man to satisfy them.” Turning away, he stroked himself, shivering with pleasure. “You’re welcome.” Anosanim went to Tano first. The other kitchens were always so busy, with people scurrying around barking orders, that it made Tano’s kitchen seem awfully sedate. Was it because Tano had to prepare less food? Because there were fewer people at work? Because Tano handled stress differently from the other chefs? “Prince Anosanim.” Demena bowed; Koso bowed quickly, too, hurriedly setting down a knife, and Tano turned in cheerful surprise to bow. “Good morning! It’s simply a lovely day, isn’t it?” Anosanim stopped to chat with Demena, catching up with her. When Tano asked if they could make him anything to eat, he laughed. It was just like Tano to ask! “No, no, I’m not here to create more work for you. I wanted to give you less work today, actually! It’s such a nice day, praise the gods, it seems like such a shame for you to spend it in here! I thought that I’d give you a couple of hours off and take you to lunch! Now, I know, I

know,” he added quickly, before Tano could interrupt. “You can’t just run off with me, you have to make lunch for other people. But I’ll just invite Remin and Xio Voe to come with us! If I buy lunch for all three of you, you’re all taken care of! And then we can have a nice little meal together and enjoy ourselves. I’ll invite our other brothers, too.” Tano wiped his hands on his apron, looking down and then grinning at Anosanim. “You’re asking me to lunch with the Seven Siblings?” “Yes! I can’t guarantee that they’ll all come,” Anosanim admitted. “I don’t know what Xio Voe’s schedule is like today, and the gods only know where Desin is and what state his clothes are in.” Anosanim could manage quite nicely to dig irrigation ditches all day and still come home neat and presentable, so why Desin always looked as if he’d been rolling around with swine, Anosanim couldn’t fathom. “I don’t want to shirk my duties,” Tano said. “If it’s all right with Prince Remin and King Xio Voe, I’d love to come.” “Oh, don’t worry about them for an instant!” Anosanim waved the concern away. “I’ll speak with them myself and get it all taken care of. Now, I found the most darling little outfit that I think you’d look absolutely marvelous in. As soon as I saw it, I thought of you. I’ve sent it up to your apartment. Ah, I must run, I have to round up everyone by lunchtime and I have no idea where Desin is today. Kudorin will know,” he decided. Hugging Tano, he kissed Tano’s cheek; then he hugged Demena. Had he been discreet enough about Tano’s clothes? He hadn’t wanted to make it obvious in front of others - - he certainly didn’t want to embarrass Tano - but he’d wanted Tano to know that the clothes were there, if Tano felt selfconscious about going out with them in public. Oh, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. As he said good-bye, he tried to read Tano’s expression, but Tano looked as friendly as ever and thanked him sincerely, so maybe it was all right. They were going to have to find a long-term solution. A new wardrobe was the only answer. Something for every occasion. Rounding up the rest of his brothers was, as always, unnecessarily complicated. Remin pouted at being denied Tano’s food, and then pouted some more at being denied private time with Tano for lunch, but Anosanim convinced him that it was important for Tano to spend time with the family. Dear sweet Bade was an easy invitation, but Orinakin and Selorin both spent time dithering over how busy they were and how much they’d have to adjust their schedules. Honestly, they had time to stop and have sex five times a day, but didn’t have time for lunch? When Anosanim reminded them that Remin and Tano would be there, they suddenly were able to free up some time.

Rini accepted immediately. Kudorin sounded intrigued by the idea of going out for lunch. Xio Voe said no. “You have to eat lunch,” Anosanim argued, following him around the laboratory. “Your body requires proper nutrition for optimal functionality, doesn’t it? You’re very busy with important tasks, and I respect that. I also think that now that Remin and Tano are engaged, we should express interest and support their marriage and get to know Tano better.” “Chef Pitok and I are well acquainted,” Xio Voe said, jotting down numbers. “Think of it as your duty. Your duty as king to welcome the royal high priest’s husband. Your duty under Ilanosa to observe their loving relationship.” “It is my duty as King of Orina Anoris to meet with three ambassadors this afternoon. It is my duty as The Heir to the Jacacean Empire to meet with two hostile generals later this afternoon, and Anosukinom has been so kind as to grant us this meeting on Anorian soil for neutral territory.” “Could Sulano meet with the ambassadors instead?” Anosanim suggested. “Or Kasu?” “If Orinakin considers the latter to be qualified,” Xio Voe said frigidly. “It is within the realm of possibility.” “Would that give you enough time to drop by our lunch?” “If that were the case, I would make an effort to, as you say, drop by.” “Great!” Okay, he could handle this. “I’ll speak with Orinakin, then, and find out about Kasu.” Hugging Xio Voe, Anosanim hurried off. He wasn’t even going to attempt to fool with that second meeting, the one with the generals; that genuinely did sound like something Xio Voe should make a priority. Resigned to spend his entire morning dashing from one brother to the next, Anosanim went back to Orinakin, who told him that Kasu was qualified but busy. So Anosanim had to talk to Kasu. Fortunately, Kasu was thrilled at the possibility of taking over Xio Voe’s meeting, and eagerly dumped his other projects. Anosanim sent a note to Sulano to explain that Xio Voe’s meeting with the ambassadors would be handled by Kasu, and Xio Voe would be expected at lunch. Then he went to the Royal House of Art. Talin shrugged and said that lunch together would be fine with him. Thank the gods for cooperative brothers. Now that he had everyone else lined up, Anosanim was determined to get Desin. But where was Desin?

Closing his eyes, Desin listened. The buzz of insects. A passing bird. The dampness of the ground was seeping through his pants and wetting his knees. He should’ve sent someone else out here - - he had a team of qualified hunters - - but it was either this or a budget meeting, and he’d rather be outside with a bow and arrow than inside with accountants. Something was coming. Something slow and not careful. Desin turned slowly, listening, focusing. Raising his bow, he opened his eyes andAnosanim! Cursing under his breath, Desin got up. “What the fuck are you doing out here?! I could’ve shot you!” “You wouldn’t dare!” Anosanim looked appalled. “Gods above, Desin, I hope that you’re a better hunter than that!” Grimacing, he swatted at a bug. “Look down and tell me how filthy my shoes are. I’m afraid to see it for myself.” Desin eyed them. Thick-soled and low-heeled. Not bad; he’d expected to see those ankle-breaking things Anosanim wore to dinner. “They’re muddy, but not irredeemable.” With a sigh of relief, Anosanim looked around, fanning himself. “I’m glad that you do things like this yourself. It makes me feel better, to think of them finding mercy at the hands of Matanori’s own son. A much better way to complete your life, don’t you think, than otherwise? Oh, but I’m distracting you, I didn’t come to take up your time. We’re all meeting for lunch, Tano and Remin and all of us. Kudorin’s coming, and I had to do a lot of work to get Xio Voe there, so I expect you to join us. You’ll come?” He had to be kidding. “You came the whole way out here to invite me to lunch?” Only Anosanim. “Why couldn’t you wait until I got back to the palace? Or send a message?” “I have to ask myself. In case you try to get out of it.” “Why would I want to get out of it? I like food, I like Remin and Tano, I like you.” And he was really touched by what Anosanim had said about Matanori’s son. He did sometimes feel like something like this - - completing the life of a diseased predator who’d become disruptive and dangerous - - was his responsibility, but he never really vocalized why. He usually just brushed it aside with the explanation that he was the most qualified, the best shot. But what Anosanim had said made it seem more poetic and more important. “Where are we eating, and what time should I be there?” They discussed the details, and they hugged, and he watched Anosanim flutter away like a big, beautiful, orange butterfly.

It was hard to resist the urge to cook extra food, anyway. Tano loved to cook for Prince Remin, and even if a restaurant provided Prince Remin’s lunch, Prince Remin might want something else to eat. Or maybe Prince Remin wouldn’t like what the restaurant offered, so Tano should bring along sandwiches and - - but he was being ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Prince Remin had survived and eaten heartily for a lifetime before Tano had shown up. The restaurant was bound to have great food; he couldn’t imagine Prince Anosanim choosing a bad place. Besides, Prince Anosanim’s generous offer allowed Koso and Lo Ariside some time off, and it wasn’t fair of Tano to make them cook right through that. So he dismissed them and went up to his apartment to change. Prince Anosanim had provided him with exceptionally well-made clothes. Slim white pants snug on his ass. A white-and-gold shirt that ran out of buttons half-way up to reveal his chest. Little white ankle boots. Wearing so much white made Tano nervous about getting dirty, but as long as he didn’t fall down or spill food, he’d be okay, he hoped. He wasn’t sure what to do about Prince Anosanim’s generosity - was it okay to accept new clothes? Should he offer payment for them? Were they genuinely new or from Prince Rini’s closet? He was barely out of the servants’ wing when Prince Rini snatched him up, taking his hand and pulling him along. “Hi, you look great, Remin’s pissed that he won’t be able to do whatever kinky shit you two do in his office at lunchtime, so Anosanim promised him that he could do it in the carriage on the way back, after lunch. He wants to do it on the way to lunch, too, but Anosanim doesn’t want you both showing up all sexed-up-looking, so I’m supposed to sneak you there a little early before Remin notices. Okay?” Hurrying to keep up, Tano said, “Yes, Prince Rini.” Then he thought about what Prince Rini had just said, and wondered if he could slip away from Prince Rini and go along with Prince Remin’s plan. It was really, really tempting; he was getting hot just thinking about it. But that might upset Prince Anosanim, and he didn’t want to offend someone who’d been so kind to him. In the carriage on the way to the restaurant, he and Prince Rini chatted about sports and some of the athletes Prince Rini had partnered with. The restaurant was, Prince Rini explained, very trendy; it had a Lorbish look but served experimental Leetesrian cuisine. Tano didn’t know what a Lorbish look was; when he walked into the restaurant and looked around, he still wasn’t sure. If “Lorbish” meant “superbly gaudy,” then they’d executed the style perfectly. Marble chairs? Tiger skins nailed to the walls? Red hoods over the candles to give the room a dark, bloody cast? Prince Anosanim

had invited King Xio Voe to eat here? The staff members were dressed in what appeared to be leopard skin underwear. What a ridiculous place. What a - - oh. Nice. Tano watched a waiter cross the room. If his leopard skin slipped, Tano wouldn’t mind helping him back into it. Prince Anosanim arrived just after them, wearing an entirely different outfit from earlier in the day. The last one had been loose and sweeping and jeweled, while this one was sleek and sexy and lacy. Just looking at Prince Anosanim turned Tano on; knowing that all of that silky, masculine flesh would feel just as gorgeously smooth as Prince Remin’s only aroused him further. Then Prince Anosanim hugged him and kissed his cheek. While Tano was trying to convince himself that Prince Anosanim hadn’t noticed the poke of his erection, Prince Rini smirked at him. Embarrassed but not sure what to do about it, Tano followed Prince Anosanim to a large table in a corner. Finding no way to sit comfortably on a marble chair, Tano talked with the princes about Leetesrian food. Prince Talin and Prince Bade arrived, then Prince Orinakin and King Xio Voe. Prince Selorin came with Prince Remin, who made everyone move over so that he could sit beside Tano. The instant they sat down, Prince Remin’s hand tucked between Tano’s legs, squeezing his inner thigh. Aroused, Tano squirmed, feeling heat prickle across his skin. “Remin,” Prince Anosanim scolded, “behave.” And then the conversation turned to other things, and no one seemed to notice that Prince Remin’s hand was still precisely where it had been, a fraction of an inch from Tano’s groin. Prince Remin leaned closer, his hand squeezing, his lips brushing Tano’s ear and making Tano shiver. “I want to jack you off.” Prince Remin’s whisper was like pure honey drizzled slowly over a bela’s ass. “I want to get you off right here, under this table. I want to feel your hard, sexy dick naked in my hand right now.” Yes, yes, oh, yes. Squeezing his thighs together and covering Prince Remin’s hand with his, feeling a wicked throb of pleasure, Tano bit back a moan. As softly as he could, he begged, “Please don’t make me come, please. I’m wearing white pants, your brother gave them to me, I don’t want to upset him after he went to all of this trouble.” “Anosanim.” Prince Remin licked Tano’s ear, and the intimacy against sensitive skin was sweet eroticism. “Will you mind if Tano comes in his pants?” “What?” Prince Anosanim sounded distracted. “Oh, Remin, you’re not going to do anything to embarrass him, are you? I don’t want to make Bade or Xio Voe

uncomfortable. We really should make more of an effort to be sensitive to their social mores.” A soft, perfectly wicked chuckle in Tano’s ear. A lingering squeeze to his inner thigh. “Anosanim doesn’t mind.” “Anoremin! Tano, dear, get up, get up, you come over here and you switch with Tano. Remin, you stay put, if you can’t keep your hands to yourself then you can touch - - oh, goodness, Bade, you switch with Orinakin, I didn’t think of that. We came here to talk to Tano, not to watch you flirt with him.” As Tano obeyed Prince Anosanim and switched seats, ending up between Prince Anosanim and Prince Selorin, he had to smile at the characterization of Prince Remin’s behavior as flirting. It made it sound much more innocent than it was. To be honest, he didn’t like being separated from Prince Remin like this. The room felt colder without Prince Remin’s seductive tones bringing him such exquisite warmth. He didn’t have time to regret the move, though, because Prince Anosanim was already asking him questions about what they should order for lunch. Prince Desin arrived with Anosukinom, which filled the table. As they waited for the first course to be served, everyone talked. Anosukinom was right beside Prince Remin, and every time Tano glanced over there to sneak another peek at Prince Remin, he found himself gazing in awe at Anosukinom. Not because Anosukinom was doing anything particularly flashy; he was just being Anosukinom, and that was awe-inspiring enough. And then Anosukinom pointed at the candles at the center of the table. He flicked his finger upwards and the candles rose into the air. Watching them hover above the table, Tano felt his jaw drop slightly. There was nothing supporting them, nothing holding them, besides Anosukinom’s wish. Anosukinom flicked his finger again, and the candles began to rotate, the whole group of them, as if the cluster had begun to spin. Another flick, and the red hoods over them were an array of colors, casting a rainbow of light. As Prince Rini laughed in delight, Tano made the sign to the gods, sending up a silent prayer of praise and thanks for this miracle. “You’re showing off,” Prince Remin said. “I’m trying to be respectful and leave the chairs alone,” Anosukinom replied softly. “But my gift to the world is uncomfortable, and I don’t like leaving him unhappy.” “If you change them, it might be an insult,” Prince Anosanim said, sounding concerned.

“They made the decision to prioritize their own taste over their customers’ comfort,” King Xio Voe said coldly. “If customers then express unhappiness with that discomfort, or a desire for alternative seating, that is an easily anticipated consequence.” “I just, there’s no padding,” Prince Rini said. “And I keep sliding off. Silk on marble is kind of slippery.” Prince Remin shot Anosukinom the kind of look only Prince Remin would dare to give him. Tano loved seeing this part of Prince Remin’s life, how comfortable he was with his family, the kind of familiarity and intimacy they shared, the way Prince Remin and Anosukinom fell into brotherly interactions regardless of their other roles and titles. “In your home, do whatever you like with your chairs. When you’re a guest in someone else’s space, be polite.” “All of Orina Anoris is my home,” Anosukinom pointed out. “I’m not just the pharaoh of the palace, am I? Don’t I rule this entire nation?” “You’re quibbling,” Prince Anoremin said. “I’m clarifying,” Anosukinom said. “Besides.” He snapped his fingers. “You know very well that I can make the chairs more comfortable without insulting anyone.” Ooohh. Warm softness cupped Tano’s ass and supported his back. Shifting around to test this new coziness, Tano experienced a new luxurious comfort. Amazed, he looked down at his chair, then at Prince Rini’s beside him. The chair looked the same, but Prince Rini was leaning back with a fond sigh. While Prince Selorin squirmed sensuously and Prince Desin said, “Hunh, nice,” Tano felt over his chair with both hands. It felt just the same as it had before, unforgiving marble without contours. No one looking at it without sitting down would ever know it had been changed. Making the sign to the gods, Tano sent up a silent prayer of praise. Anosukinom smiled at him. “Thank you, Tano. I love you, too.” After giving their order, they all chatted for a while. Anosanim thought that Tano was simply adorable. And so friendly! With Bade and Xio Voe, there had been a brief period of adjustment, to let everyone get used to each other. Bade had just been so very foreign, at first, and Xio Voe had been so distant. But Tano fit right in! Anosanim felt as if he’d been one of the family all along. When the food came, Anosanim was interested in all of Tano’s opinions about how it looked and how it had been cooked and how it tasted to someone with such a sensitive palate. Talking about Leetesrian food got them talking about Leetesrian

culture, and their Leetesrian family. Anosanim was eager to see everyone again, and Remin’s wedding was the perfect excuse to gather everyone together. All of their out-of-town relatives would be there, of course, including Bade’s family. Anosanim told Tano all about Bade’s dear, sweet parents and wonderful brothers. “And Xio Voe’s family, I simply can’t wait to see them again. Every time I see Xio Dei it seems like he’s grown so much!” Orinakin kicked him under the table, so he swiftly changed the subject, asking Desin about that animal he’d been after earlier. While Desin talked, Bade asking questions after every other sentence, Tano listening as if he’d never heard anything so fascinating, Anosanim wondered why Orinakin had wanted him to shut up. Was it Xio Dei? Xio Dei getting older? Xio Voe’s family? Xio Voe’s family coming for the wedding? Was - - oh, dear. Xio Voe’s family coming for the wedding. Orinakin had mentioned in confidence a few days ago that they were going to have to be sensitive about that, and he’d entirely forgotten. The Emperor had been travelling less and less, even within the Empire. Orinakin said that he wasn’t particularly ill, but that the older he became, the more he chose to conserve his strength. A journey the whole way to Orina Anoris might be deemed too much for him. It was something that wasn’t talked about, something Orinakin had said they shouldn’t speculate on publicly, out of consideration for the great tradition of Jacacean imperial pride, which didn’t tolerate discussion of a sitting Emperor’s demise. Anosanim thought that it was silly to pretend that the man would live forever; Jacaceans were so practical and logical, it always struck him as odd when their pride got in the way of common sense. But they thought that an Emperor of less than robust physical health would be seen as a weak ruler, and they didn’t want outsiders, foreigners, to think of the Empire or its Emperor as a target. Orinakin didn’t think that Xio Voe talked even to Kudorin about the Emperor’s health or how many years he had left, and Anosanim thought that Orinakin was probably right about that. It would be a shame if the Emperor couldn’t make it to the wedding. Anosanim wanted to get to know him better, and Anosanim could hardly just stroll off to Jacacea. “I could save you some time,” Kudorin said. Anosanim looked up from his plate to see Kudorin looking at Xio Voe. Then Kudorin smiled at Tano. “You aren’t hiding anything, are you?” “Hiding anything?” Tano repeated. Looking baffled, he glanced at Remin. He was forever looking at Remin; Anosanim thought that it was romantic of him to be so preoccupied. “No, Your Majesty, I’m not hiding anything. Anything like what?”

“Political leanings, secret affiliations,” Kudorin said. “Are you an anarchist, were you ever part of a political organization, do you have ties to foreign governments?” “No, I’m not even half that interesting,” Tano said. “I don’t even know anyone like that. I didn’t even join the Ueaioloepaoeioe Eaueihueiaorieual when I was in Ilaeia.” Tano’s accent was utterly adorable. He made “Society of Worthy Cooks” sound like “Society of Empty Bricks.” His Jacacean accent was better than his Ilaeian; maybe because he was less fluent, he was more careful with his pronunciation. “How will you influence Remin’s rule, then?” Kudorin asked. “I…won’t?” Tano guessed, glancing at Remin again. “I don’t have any business telling Prince Remin how to run the country.” “What are your pet issues?” Kudorin asked. “What are your sore spots or hot points?” “My, I don’t know, I want everyone to be well fed? I mean, that’s pretty basic, isn’t it? I want people to be considerate and respectful, I want people to take care of themselves and each other. I can’t stand the thought of people going hungry, and I’d like to do something about that, and I guess that if I got organized I could use my position as a palace chef to help. I’m not sure where to start but I could ask around.” Nodding, Kudorin looked at Selorin. “How did that sound to you?” Selorin finished chewing and said, “Honest. Sincere. Truthful.” Kudorin smiled at Xio Voe. “There. I’ve just saved the Jenisait a lot of travel and work.” Goodness! “You were going to send your spies after Tano?” Anosanim asked. “You have spies everywhere, don’t you?” Rini asked. Becoming still, he tried to look around without moving his head, silver eyes darting from side to side. “Are they watching us now? Can they hear us? Would they be outside in the street, or on the roof?” “Hush,” Orinakin said, watching Tano with concern. “You’re scaring him.” Poor Tano did look unnerved. “They’re not assassins,” Remin told Tano. “Not in this case,” he added dryly, shooting Xio Voe a very nasty look. “They’re usually sent out to gather information.” Anosanim patted Tano’s arm, worried that they’d upset him. “I’m sure that they aren’t interested in you at all. Kudorin’s just joking.” A lot of Anorians told very

nasty stories about Jacacean assassins. Anosanim didn’t know which ones Tano had heard, or whether or not they were true, but anti-Jacacean sentiment had let to a lot of fright about Jacacean assassins, and that fear didn’t differentiate between assassins and spies. Anorian children felt very safe within Orina Anoris, under Anosukinom’s care, but Anosanim had known children terrified about a friend or relative’s trip out of the country, sure that as soon as they set foot beyond Anorian borders the Jenisait would slaughter them. Xio Voe’s eyebrow twitched the way it did when he thought that they were being infantile cialexes again. “Emperor Xio Sei has no interest in assassinating my personal chef. As one’s spouse is in a position to affect one’s priorities, perspectives, and decisions, especially among open-minded Anorians,” and Xio Voe said that last bit with such icy disdain that Anosanim almost laughed, because, really, only Xio Voe would make listening to one’s spouse sound like a bad thing, “it is prudent to investigate the kind of influence the new husband of one of the Seven Siblings may have upon his reign.” “So you sent your spies after Bade, too?” Desin asked. Rini laughed. “I hope they had fun climbing mountains.” “Investigating Bade and Tano?” Selorin asked. “Being an international spy is perhaps more boring than one might imagine.” “I kind of have to agree,” Bade said. “I suppose that I’m flattered that they took an interest, but it seems like a waste of time.” “Do they stop?” Tano asked. “Is it a one-time investigation before the marriage, that ends? Or will they keep spying on me?” He sounded confused and a little shaken; Anosanim put an arm around him, leaning against his side. “I find it in the Empire’s best interests not to answer that question,” Xio Voe said. “They’ll keep an eye on Remin, as they always have,” Orinakin said. “Probably a closer eye than they could before, now that the borders between us are more open. But they won’t pay much attention to you unless you do something that attracts their notice.” Orinakin’s voice softened, and he gazed at Tano with the sincere, well-meaning expression that always melted Anosanim’s heart. “Please don’t let it bother you. Don’t even think of it. I’m of far, far more interest to them than you are, and I live almost every day of my life without giving them another thought. You won’t know if they’re interested, or when. You won’t know if they’re watching you, or how. Trying to protect yourself and attempting caution will only lead to paranoia. You’ll spend much more time thinking about them than they do thinking about you. It’s much easier and healthier to enjoy your life without considering them.”

“Seriously,” Rini said, “you’re a great guy and everything, but you live a really boring life. They’re going to give your background a quick investigation and talk to people who met you in Ilaeia, or something, and then they’re going to go back to spying on Orinakin, or whoever. Trust me, on the scale of importance to international spies, you’re probably at, like, very low priority. More important than that waiter over there, but not a lot. I mean, what, who would you compare him to?” Rini asked Orinakin. “Not Bade, Bade has to be way more important.” “He’s probably so uninteresting to them, he’s at your level,” Desin told Rini. “Ha,” Rini said. He started to reach across the table to smack Desin, but - - at a sharp look from half of the table - - stopped short and innocently fluffed his own hair, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I’m just saying, I don’t really think that the Jenisait’s going to care about you for more than five minutes. Then they’ll realize that you’re harmless and get back to something else. I don’t even think that the Jenisait’s scary. What’s scary, really, is that they exist at all. It’s sad that someone as powerful and arrogant as Emperor Sei is wasting his own time sending spies around to check up on who Remin might be marrying. Who cares who Remin gets married to? Do you care who Xio Wae marries? As long as it’s not the Sultan of Lorbain, I don’t.” “Hmm.” Sounding thoughtful, Kudorin propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand. “I wonder if they even really need to check up on Tano’s background. He’s a humble man. So much international travel at a young age from someone of his history is unusual, but easily accounted for. And he was already found harmless enough to cook for Xio Voe, King of Orina Anoris, Heir to the Jacacean Empire. If he can be trusted not to poison Xio Voe or Remin, he’s probably not someone with strong political ties in any particular direction, except for the predictable Anorian loyalty.” Xio Voe held Kudorin’s gaze. “Do you imagine that you’re being discreet?” “I imagine that your spies have better things to do than to investigate Naritano Pitok,” Kudorin said. Xio Voe’s voice was frigid. “If you’d suggest a more appropriate source of interest, I might agree.” Really, now. What was this, blackmail? Anosanim frowned at Xio Voe, disappointed. Bade was staring at Orinakin; everyone else was watching Kudorin and Xio Voe. Kudorin shrugged, going back to eating, taking a bit of meat from Talin’s plate. “Have you been to Reyanis this time of year? It’s awfully cold out along the coast.”

Fascinatingly, Xio Voe and Orinakin looked at each other, as if to gauge how Kudorin’s musings were received. Their gazes held for a moment, and then they both frowned slightly at Kudorin. Kudorin chewed and smiled at Selorin, apparently finished with the conversation. “Well, that was fun to talk about,” Rini said. “Want to traumatize Tano with any other topics? What about rampaging bears or murderous ghosts?” “I’d like to talk about fashion,” Anosanim said. “We’re going to need to furnish appropriate clothing for Tano. Remin isn’t entirely without taste, but his style does approach minimalist at times, and-” “Not entirely without taste?” Remin repeated. “Thank you for suggesting that I don’t always dress like I found my clothes in a gutter.” “You dress better than Desin does,” Rini said. “Although I guess in Anosanim’s eyes, that’s not a big improvement.” Anosanim had always been grateful for his brothers’ natural beauty and the blessings of well-stocked closets full of well-made clothes. It also helped that, generally, gold matched gold and green matched green. If his brothers had been any less handsome, or lacked skilled tailors, or didn’t have his example to follow, well. He shuddered to think of the results. Orinakin, at least, could be relied on, but Talin, honestly. And Rini! When would Rini realize that “creative” wasn’t a suitable fashion trend? “I know that it’s properly romantic for Tano’s apparel to come from Remin, but I thought that I might help him to find a few pieces, to get started.” “I don’t mind,” Remin said between bites. “If I can’t go down on him while he’s changing, it’s not as fun.” “I think that we should keep Tano in gold,” Kudorin said. “I think that all of your husbands should match you. Like sets. I like seeing Bade in Orinakin’s colors.” “So Anosanim has to find someone who likes unrelenting orange?” Desin asked. “Good luck.” “Not only likes it, but looks good in it,” Rini said. “Sounds like you’ll be staying single for a while.” “I’m not going to lock Tano into wearing gold,” Remin said. “I wouldn’t mind it,” Tano said. He gazed at Kudorin with adoring affection. “If it makes Anosukinom happy, I’d like to do it.” Kudorin’s eyes flashed gold as he smiled at Tano. “You and I are going to get along very well.”

This was going to make shopping a little more difficult. “Well, unlike Remin, he doesn’t have to wear only gold. He can wear gold and black, or gold and red, or any number of combinations. The possibilities are simply endless!” It would be a shopping challenge, but Anosanim absolutely adored a good shopping challenge. Finding fabulous outfits under such restrictions would be a very rewarding accomplishment. As lunch ended, Remin made his way around the table to Tano’s side. As soon as he was within reach, Tano hugged him. The ease of Tano’s natural physical affection brought a flutter of pleasure, and Remin hugged Tano back, kissing Tano’s mouth. While his brothers said good-bye to each other and prepared to go, Remin nuzzled Tano, inhaling his clean scent and cupping his ass. “Yes, oh, naturally,” Anosanim was saying. “I’ll bring Tano by the Royal House of Art first, I think? No, we’ll go shopping first, see what’s in the stores, and then once we’ve established the foundation, we’ll have the rest made. Tano, do - - Tano, are you listening? Do you have a place in mind to go first? There’s a lovely boutique a few doors down, I think that we can start there.” But Tano was coming with Remin. Back to the palace. In the carriage. Where Remin could have Tano all to himself. Lifting his head, Remin glared at Anosanim. “You’re not taking him now.” Sighing, Anosanim looked disappointed. “Really, Remin, you’ll have plenty of him tonight. You can paw him to your heart’s content later. I only need him for a couple of hours while you’re busy working. You’re not going to be able to prioritize your sexual desires above everything else, and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that. You’re a responsible adult now and you’re going to have to act like one.” “There’s a bathroom in the corner,” Tano whispered. The lust in Tano’s voice spiked heat in Remin’s blood, making him impatient. Twisting sinuously against Remin, Tano breathed against his neck. “If Prince Anosanim can wait for a-” “Wait here,” Remin told Anosanim, grabbing Tano’s hand and heading across the restaurant. “We’ll be right back.” “That was nice,” Bade said, as the carriage rolled towards the palace. Orinakin made a pleasant noise of agreement. Seated across from him, Xio Voe didn’t reply. “It’s hard to get everyone together in the middle of the day,” Bade said. “The food was good, I thought. Tangier than I expected. When Anosanim said that it was

experimental, I wasn’t sure what I’d see on the plate. But it was a nice place. I don’t think that Desin liked the pelts on the walls, though.” “Mmm,” Orinakin said. “No, he can be sensitive about that.” Xio Voe was looking out through the carriage window the way he did when he was caught up in his own thoughts. Okay. “I’ve never been to Reyanis at this time of year. Have you?” Orinakin and Xio Voe froze, then stared at each other, then froze again, trapped in a shared gaze. “Off the coast,” Orinakin said. “A boat,” Xio Voe said impatiently. “A ship.” Orinakin looked away, frowning, and Xio Voe stared very hard at the window like he could see calculations there. So they weren’t sure what Kudorin had been talking about, but they were both very determined to find out. Kudorin had brought it up, and he knew how alert they were, so he’d obviously said it to attract their attention to the issue. And he wouldn’t have said it in front of both of them at once if it weren’t a good idea for both of them to be aware of it. So it was probably a good thing for Orinakin and Xio Voe to hunt down whatever was happening off the coast of Reyanis. Leaving it up to them, Bade looked down at the back of his own hand, at the rings glittering there. He liked wearing purple. Especially purple jewels. He liked wearing reminders of Orinakin, the light in Orinakin’s eyes, the shades of purple in Orinakin’s hair. From what he knew of Tano, wearing gold would be Tano’s preference, too. He wondered about the other spouses, whoever Anosanim and Desin and Selorin would marry. Maybe they’d be so enamored that they’d want to wear just one color, too. Or maybe they’d want to be independent and dress according to their own changing tastes. Was dressing in Orinakin’s purple a sign of loyalty? Devotion? Dependence? Bade had never seen it as a bad thing, an undesirable trait of lack of self-determination, but maybe if he were a different kind of person it would bother him. Then again, Xio Voe wore all black for Kudorin, and Bade could hardly accuse Xio Voe of losing himself and depending on Kudorin for his identity. Orinakin snickered. “Yes, that’s what Xio Voe’s known for. His lack of self-worth.” Slowly, Xio Voe’s gaze turned to Bade, yellow eyes glittering. “If it is a concern, perhaps I should undergo some self-esteem-raising exercises and coach myself to become more assertive.”

Great Grengar. A more assertive Xio Voe. That was the last thing the world needed.

Part 278 At first, Tano was torn. He was touched that Prince Anosanim wanted to help him, and he could see that Prince Anosanim enjoyed shopping - - he’d never seen anyone light up with joy at the prospect of buying a new wardrobe for someone else - - but it seemed like such a bad use of Prince Anosanim’s time and money. Money, yes, that was the problem. Tano knew that he needed new clothes, but shouldn’t he buy them for himself? He tried to bring that up, tried to ask if they could go back to the palace so that he could get his own funds. It didn’t seem right for Prince Anosanim to purchase his clothes for him. He explained that Prince Anosanim had done a lot for him already, and that Prince Anosanim’s generosity and kindness meant a great deal to him, and that he was grateful for how thoughtful Prince Anosanim was about including him in the family, but“He’s worried about money,” Anosukinom said, materializing suddenly beside them in the store. Startled because Anosukinom kept appearing and then wandering away out of sight and then showing up again without warning, Tano started to kneel, but Anosukinom pointed at him and he found himself unable to bend his knees. “You don’t have to kneel and bow and make the sign to the gods every time that I sneeze,” Anosukinom said with a light, amused smile. “I know the fullness of the love for me in your heart.” “You don’t sneeze,” Prince Anosanim said. Looking thoughtful, Anosukinom murmured, “I don’t. I miss it.” Then, wrinkling his nose, he sneezed. Gasping, the store’s clerks made the sign to the gods. One looked confused; the other two looked aghast. Tano, himself, was taken aback. “No, no, don’t worry,” Prince Anosanim said clearly. “He’s just playing. Testing the realities of the human body.” Lowering his voice, he said to Tano, “That’s the kind of thing Remin would have caught beforehand. He’s always thinking of things like that. He’d never let Kudorin sneeze in public.” Anosukinom grinned. “Anikira would. Xio Voe would use it as an opportunity to ask me about biological functions and nasal passages and mucus and all kinds of medical things.”

“See, ordinarily, we all have someone to watch over us and check up on us and lead us in the right direction,” Prince Anosanim said, investigating a purple-andgold shirt. “Kudorin, being Anosukinom, doesn’t have anyone like that.” “Except the gods,” Anosukinom pointed out. Eyeing a small, potted plant, he poked at it with one finger; glossy leaves unfurled, flowers blooming. Tano had already bowed, made the sign to the gods, and prayed before he caught himself. It was instinctive! Like looking carefully before crossing the street, or squeezing a tomato before he cut it, it was a thoroughly ingrained habit. He always had to check before he crossed a street, even an empty street in a quiet village. Just in case. There could be a really slow wagon or a really quiet horse coming his way; there could just be something or someone he hadn’t noticed. His grandmother had told him that his choices were to take a good look every time and maybe appear foolish for being cautious, or get trampled by horses and run over by a carriage. He’d decided that foolishness was a way better choice than maiming or death. He was bound to look foolish a lot, anyway, in life; who wasn’t? Well, maybe not Prince Anosanim or Anosukinom. As he watched Prince Anosanim examine a pair of redand-gold pants, he had to admit that he found it hard to imagine someone so elegant and poised and confident looking foolish. The store clerk behind Prince Anosanim caught Tano’s eye, and he smiled. “Oh, this is very nice,” Prince Anosanim said, and handed it to Tano. “Remin decided that Kudorin needed a-” “A watcher? A minder? A baby-sitter?” Anosukinom suggested, trailing behind as Tano followed Prince Anosanim around the store. “Some discreet supervision,” Prince Anosanim said. “So he proposes slight modifications to Kudorin’s behavior once in a while. Points out occasions where a certain action might communicate the wrong message to Anorians, for example.” “As if I don’t know these things already. Do you all forget that I’m omniscient?” Anosukinom asked. “Is that hard for you to remember?” Prince Anosanim held up a gold-and-black shirt and smiled. “If you were omniscient, would you have to ask those questions?” Looking the shirt over, he made a thoughtful noise and folded it back up and set it back on the shelf, moving on. “Our current theory, really, is that Kudorin just likes to make Remin’s life more difficult. Now, what do you think about green and gold?” “Tano’s worried about money,” Anosukinom said again. “He’s worried and unhappy about you paying for his clothes.” “Oh, nonsense!” Prince Anosanim’s hand rested delicately on Tano’s shoulder; his exotically orange gaze was soft with concern. “Don’t think about money for an

instant. Oh, I know what we’ll do, we’ll use Remin’s account. That’s fair, isn’t it? You won’t mind if Remin pays for it. Kudorin, reassure Tano for me, I don’t want to spoil such a nice outing.” “Can I pay for it?” Anosukinom asked with a bright smile. “I’ll pay for it. I love giving presents and buying people things.” With a warm, knowing grin, he winked at Tano. “You wouldn’t say no to me, would you? And deprive me of my fun?” Well, no, of course not. “If you’re sure,” Tano said, helplessly charmed by Anosukinom’s happiness. How could he say no to Anosukinom? “Great! Hug him for me,” Anosukinom instructed Prince Anosanim, “and let’s buy him everything in the store.” “Kudorin! That’s not how shopping works!” Prince Anosanim hugged him, then turned to scold Anosukinom further. “Shopping is a masterful blend of art and science, of instinct and calculation. If you’d like to help, it would be very useful to know which stores have a good amount of gold clothing that would fit Tano. Now, Tano, come and try this on, I want to see how everything looks.” And so Tano started trying on clothes. In boutique after boutique, all across the city, he tried on clothes. Sometimes there were so many items that the store clerks would have to help him in the dressing rooms. Prince Anosanim had a great eye for sizes, and the measurements were always marked, but Prince Anosanim wanted him to try on everything, anyway. Prince Anosanim saw him in all various stages of undress, and touched him in all sorts of intimate nooks and crannies, and he enjoyed it every time. His favorite part of the shopping trip quickly became the way Prince Anosanim’s hands fluttered over him to adjust garments; he liked how close Prince Anosanim would stand, the way Prince Anosanim’s eyes assessed his body, the approving little murmurs, the patting and tugging and the way Prince Anosanim’s hands smoothed over the fabric, coincidentally stroking his body. He started to leave clothes a little haphazard, slightly crooked, so that Prince Anosanim would touch him more. Prince Anosanim was a very skilled shopper with a great eye for fashion. He didn’t make a purchase unless he was confident about it; he didn’t throw in anything on a whim. Price didn’t matter to him, but quality did, and he’d examine fabric, examine stitches, to see how well-made a garment was. He was a mystical genius about accessories; he’d spot a belt and claim that it would look good with a certain shirt and pants; Tano would wonder what in the world he was thinking, since that shirt and pants should never have been in the same room much less on the same body, but then he’d make Tano put it all on together, and it would look fantastic.

Speaking of fantastic, some of the guys who worked in these boutiques were very, very hot. Tano flirted with them, happy to be interacting with more men. He looked forward to telling Prince Remin all about his shopping trip. As they shopped, Tano took the opportunity to ask about Prince Remin’s childhood. Prince Anosanim and Anosukinom had an endless supply of stories, and they were happy to talk about Prince Remin. They told of childhood adventures, of getting in trouble with their parents, of interactions with foreign guests, of arguments with priests, of games with cousins. They talked about how smart Prince Remin had always been, how confident, how quick to lead. It sounded like a wonderful childhood, full of love and laughter and affection. It filled Tano’s heart to know that, no matter what he’d gone through in his own youth, Prince Remin had grown up knowing love and comfort and happiness. The lives of the Seven Siblings weren’t ideal in all respects - - they had arguments, they learned hard lessons, they were subject to the pains of the human experience - - but they’d grown up with a sense of security that Tano hadn’t, and he was glad for that. He wanted that, for them. He liked to think of Prince Remin growing up cheerfully, clever and confident, with such wonderfully loving parents, in such a vibrantly colorful family, never lacking for anything. He enjoyed, especially, the fondness in Anosukinom and Prince Anosanim’s voices. They sounded as deeply in love with Prince Remin as he was. Kudorin wanted to pay for everything himself, the way anyone else would, so he slipped some money from the royal vaults and paid in real coins. He couldn’t pass them hand to hand in the traditional manner, but he could move them from his hand to the shopkeeper’s hand with his mind. Soliciting a series of servants, Kudorin sent packages back to the palace after every store. He did it discreetly, having muttered something briefly about not wanting to be encumbered with parcels. Tano was too distracted by their tales of Remin to keep specific track of everything they bought, and every time the thought arose, Kudorin pulled Tano’s attention elsewhere. This shopping trip was too much fun to cut short because Tano was worried about overindulging. Besides, Tano would end up wearing everything they bought, sooner or later. Kudorin wanted to get as full a wardrobe as possible during this excursion, knowing that Tano wouldn’t agree to another one for a long time to come. Tano couldn’t relax and enjoy the afternoon with the thought of that evening’s dinner looming over his head, so Kudorin called in Chef Akeno and, pulling information from Tano, talked to the chef and Demena about dinner. They’d prepare it, and Tano could adjust and approve everything when he got back to the

palace. Tano would have preferred to do it himself, but he liked and trusted them, and he believed fully in Kudorin’s judgment, so he thanked Kudorin and relaxed. As they piled into an open carriage to visit the Royal House of Art, Anosanim said, “We’ll rattle on about Remin all day! What about you, Tano? Tell me more about how you grew up.” Tano laughed and started talking. He told them about his parents, and his grandmother, and his childhood friends, and the games they’d played, and odd episodes at school, and weird neighbors, and the fumbling of youth. He made everything sound fun and silly and simple, and he kept Anosanim in breathless laughter. He didn’t say anything about the torment of his childhood grief. He didn’t talk about his pain or his confusion or his losses. He didn’t talk about being poor or needy, didn’t talk about being cold or hungry, didn’t talk about how hard he’d worked. Because Tano never mentioned those things. Never thought about it that way. His grandmother had taught him to stay positive and have faith and look for the good in life, so that was what Tano focused on, and that was what Tano remembered. And the rest was, well, it was something that Tano couldn’t do anything about. Remin knew, of course, and Anosanim knew; all of them knew, as much as they could know. They knew that Tano’s parents had completed their lives far before Tano had expected it. They knew, simply from slight hints of his natural accent, where he was from. They could guess that there was a lot of conservation in Tano’s childhood, and some deprivation. Not enough of this, never enough of that, always being mindful, always having to calculate and measure and take care. Conserving, sometimes. Going without, at other times. It would’ve been easier, in the beginning, but after his parents completed their lives, when it was just an old woman and a child, things would’ve gotten harder. And Tano would’ve had to grow up faster. There wasn’t poverty in Orina Anoris the same way there was poverty elsewhere in the world. There wasn’t what Orinakin called extreme poverty. But there were people who struggled. Kudorin hated it. Remin hated it more. Remin had been bound to do everything he could to help, anyway. Remin and Orinakin both had an intense streak of determination to eradicate hunger, poverty, violence, disease, illiteracy, want, and strife from the world. It was fantastically idealistic of them, yet they were genuinely convinced that they could do it if they

just tried hard enough. It was a trait which their parents publicly blamed each other and secretly prided themselves for inspiring. Married to Tano, Remin would keep his priorities in mind. Some men would look at Tano, decide that Tano had turned out wonderfully and lived well now, and determine that the problem must not have been that bad to begin with. Remin would see Tano as the exception, not the rule, and wouldn’t rest until everyone else in Orina Anoris was as happy and fulfilled and content and well-fed and welldressed and well-kept as Tano. Remin wouldn’t stop fighting until everyone in Orina Anoris was as lavishly jeweled as the Seven Siblings. Which seemed, actually, like a much simpler goal than Orinakin’s, which was to do to the entire world what Remin wanted to do to one country. It was exhausting, really, because Kudorin couldn’t rest until all of his brothers’ dreams were fulfilled. Which meant that he had to figure out a way to sustain global peace and all of the rest of it before the end of his reign. Why couldn’t Remin and Orinakin be more like Desin? On the list of impossible miracles, a green tiger was a lot easier to pull off than the eradication of poverty. Everyone at the Royal House of Art was very respectful, even deferential. They had to know that Tano was just an average citizen - - he was standing between Prince Anosanim and Anosukinom, and his hair was just everyday black - - but they spoke to him as if he were an honored guest, bowing and calling him Chef Pitok even after he told them to call him Naritano. While Anosukinom went off to, as Prince Talin called it, “wander the halls and scare people,” Prince Anosanim and Prince Talin took Tano down below the building, opening a door into a vast room crowded with racks and chests and bags of clothing. Prince Talin started at one end and Prince Anosanim began in another corner, and Tano stood in the middle of the room and tried on whatever they threw at him. He liked the way Prince Talin handled him just as much as the way Prince Anosanim touched him. The Seven Siblings seemed to have no clear sense of personal boundaries, and Prince Talin treated him like a mannequin, pinching and tucking and yanking, manhandling him as if there were no reason not to cup his balls or squeeze his ass. Prince Anosanim had tried to be discreet, but there was no pretense with Prince Talin. Inevitably, he got hard. And just as inevitably, they commented on it. And to his unending delight, they touched it.

Rolling his eyes, Prince Talin flicked his dick. “Get rid of this, it’s ruining the line of your pants.” “Gods above, you should’ve seen him in the stores,” Prince Anosanim said. “It’s like shopping with Extra. Every time I turned around, he was flirting with another clerk. As I have tried to explain, once you’ve taken off more clothes than you’ve put on, you’re not shopping anymore, you’re just killing time between blowjobs.” “You got head?” Prince Talin asked, eyeing Tano with interest. “How many times?” “I gave head more than I got it,” Tano admitted, changing into another pair of pants. “See, that’s what happens,” Prince Anosanim muttered. “The enthusiastic ones always get taken advantage of. And they love sucking dick so much that they don’t even mind it! That’s why it’s important to be a considerate and generous partner, Talin. If I didn’t make it a point to take control once in a while, I’d end up forever on my knees, sucking dick, with no reciprocation.” “Yeah.” Prince Talin smirked. “And would you really mind that?” “Well,” Prince Anosanim said, “no, I - - yes, I - - I wouldn’t, but I would.” He sighed, smiling at Tano. “Giving head is so nice, isn’t it? But who would want to miss out on getting it?” Then, with a soft laugh, he cupped Tano’s hard-on. “Go down the hall and jack off, or find someone and get off, but be quick about it, we still have a lot to do.” Kudorin sat in the middle of a broad staircase. At the center of an attentive cluster of artists, he told the story of how Alanohi had inspired Elokem Hanurim to compose The Fairness of Selorin. And then he noticed, elsewhere in the building, a few hallways over and another story down, handsome Naritano Pitok unbuttoning the pants of an aroused young sculptor. Intrigued, Kudorin watched for a moment as they made out and felt each other up and fumbled open the oil. Reaching out to the palace, Kudorin nudged Remin. “Hey. Remin. Remin!” Murmuring politely to the high priests, Remin looked up. “Anosukinom?” The high priests, unable to hear Kudorin, made the sign to the gods and looked around, seeking him out. “Tano’s fucking one of Talin’s sculptors.” A blazing fire of lust lit up Remin’s eyes. “Which one?” He plucked identifiers Remin would catch. “The one with the bangs and dimples.”

Licking his lips, Remin rubbed a hand over his leather armrest. “How’s that going?” Kudorin felt a hot jolt of pleasure as Tano thrust again. “Oh, it’s going very well. Anosanim’s getting impatient waiting for him, but the sculptor just came, so it won’t be much longer.” Anosanim was right, it was just like shopping with Rini. Sending the high priests his love, Kudorin watched Tano’s hands tighten on the sculptor’s hips. Remin smiled. Tell him that I love him. Sitting back, Remin simmered for a moment, fantasizing, anticipating. Then, with a quick shake, Remin cleared his mind and went back to work. Finishing the tale of Elokem Hanurim, Kudorin watched Tano and the sculptor kiss and tug their clothes back into place. Enjoying the sculptor’s glow of satisfied contentment, Kudorin whispered silently in Tano’s ear, sharing a message without words. Talin could only smirk as Tano hurried back into the room, looking cheerful and relaxed. “Who was it?” Tano quickly got back into his spot in the middle of the room. “I don’t know, I didn’t catch his name. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting, did I take too long?” “Nope. Gave Anosanim time to talk about you behind your back. Here, try this on.” Talin tossed over a pair of pants. Aghast, Anosanim shot Talin a dirty look. “I did no such thing! I was just telling Talin how happy I am for you and Remin. That you fit so nicely together and bring each other such joy.” “Is this about as much sex as you’d like to have?” Talin asked. “What you’d normally have? Or are you making up for lost time, since you had that dry spell?” “Oh.” Buttoning up, Tano turned, waiting for Anosanim’s opinion of the pants. “I don’t know, I’ve never had as much sex as I’d like to have. I don’t think that I will, really, until I’m married and I can share lovesex with Prince Remin. But between Prince Remin and the belas and anyone else, yeah, that should be plenty. I mean, there probably is a point where it’s too much of a good thing, I’ve just never hit that point.” “I know what you mean!” Anosanim said. “Talin, no, those pants are atrocious, they hardly fit at all. Put on that skirt, I want to see it with this vest. Satisfaction is always so fleeting, especially with amateurs. Ritek, though, Ritek is a wonderful partner.” Frowning, Anosanim flipped impatiently through a stack of sweaters. “I wish that he’d come home. So frustrating, all of these trips.”

Talin didn’t know what to say to that. So he said something that he knew would attract Anosanim’s attention. “None of the decent-looking shoes are in your size, Tano. You’re going to have to have them made. Anosanim, how many pairs should he start with?” Pivoting, Anosanim whipped out his fan. “I’ve been thinking about that all day! Now, you’re going to need some basic boots. And then a few variations, depending on formality and what you’re wearing them with. And then sandals!” While Anosanim described and counted and planned, Talin went back to looking for a better pair of pants. It was very convenient, having brothers so easy to manipulate. Prince Anosanim sent chests of clothing to the palace, then took Tano to Prince Talin’s tailors and cobblers. While they measured him, Prince Anosanim rattled off a list of items to be made. “I’ll pay you,” Anosukinom said, popping into the room. Was that sudden strum of harp music a coincidence? Tano couldn’t look around very far for a musician; if he shifted too much, the tailor measuring him poked him with a needle. Accidentally, according to tailor, although Tano was beginning to think otherwise. “Personally,” Anosukinom added, as everyone bowed. “Great,” Prince Talin said. “Then we’ll use the most expensive materials and most elaborate techniques. You’ll want us to use actual gold thread whenever possible, right?” Tano wasn’t - - ow! Grimacing, he wondered if the tailor found pleasure in jabbing his customers. Judging by that smirk, apparently so. But there was something about that smirk. Was he just mean, or was he sexually sadistic? Intrigued, Tano kept his voice low under the cover of other conversation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t move so much. I guess I’m just kind of undisciplined.” The tailor shifted around behind Tano, measuring his shoulders. His voice was low and casual. “Undisciplined, hunh.” Arching his back slightly, Tano was intrigued by the idea of the tailor getting off on hurting someone. Controlling, punishing. That sharp gaze, those confident hands, that careful calculation; he could definitely believe that this man would hurt him in the most wonderful ways. The tailor’s measuring string circled Tano’s neck. “Careful.” The tailor’s voice was dangerously soft in Tano’s ear. “You’ve been asking for it since you walked in here.” The string tightened, too tight, a threat. “Bounce that ass at me one more time, and I’ll show you what real discipline is.”

Yes. Tano was so turned on, he wanted to jerk forward just to force the tailor to yank him back roughly, wanted to grind his ass against the tailor’s groin. The temptation to piss the tailor off just to get a reaction was deliciously strong. But could he? The thought of Prince Remin flashed through his mind, giving him pause. To Tano, sex was sex, but was this the kind of lustsex Prince Remin was okay with him having casually? Or should he wait until Prince Remin was with him, or until Prince Remin could join in? He hadn’t thought to ask about specific acts and positions; should he have? “I didn’t plan this.” Glancing up at the sound of Kudorin’s voice, Remin confirmed that he wasn’t in the office and Remin was still alone. “Should that news alarm me or relieve me?” “Kerato Amuni-” Kerato, Kerato, yes. Remin remembered long, hot, excruciating days at his hands. “Go away, I have to go masturbate.” “-just hit on Tano, and Tano wants it.” And Tano wants it. Of course Tano wanted it, Tano always wanted it, that was one of Remin’s favorite things about him. Kerato hitting on Tano, Tano wanting it, Tano responding to Kerato, Tano at Kerato’s mercy, cheerful and friendly Tano helpless and wriggling, a tormented creature, Kerato getting off on Tano’s thrilled, pained cries of blissful agony“Shit, Remin, at least let me lock the door first.” Groaning, aching, Remin came. Remin says, “Yes, yes, yes, gods above, oh Tano, oh fuck, yes.” The sound of Prince Remin’s pleasure-saturated voice combined with the sibilance of Anosukinom’s whisper in his mind to send a ripple of desire along Tano’s spine. With a pleased moan, he arched further, popping his ass back to rub it against the tailor’s crotch. Mmm, he hadn’t been fucked since last night, and he wanted it, and he might not get it, and that knowledge brought a thrill. He didn’t know this man, didn’t know what the tailor might do to him, didn’t know what he’d get or what he’d be denied or which games they might play, and that only turned him on more. The string around his neck tightened, not just a threat anymore, a legitimate danger now. “You don’t even realize the kind of trouble you just put yourself in.”

Whatever it was, it was going to get him off - - or not, maybe that was part of it, maybe the tailor wouldn’t let him come at all, maybe he’d have to suffer through it all and only get himself off later, after, alone, and he loved that, too. But he was going to have one great story to tell Prince Remin. Glancing over at the others who stood a few yards away, talking, Tano whispered, “Can we make it quick? I don’t want to keep Prince Anosanim waiting.” Oh, not again! “He’s just like Extra!” Anosanim couldn’t even really be exasperated. It was adorable and completely understandable. And it gave Anosanim a chance to spend more time making plans with the tailors for Tano’s wardrobe. He had so many ideas! “He’s worse than Extra,” Talin said. Certainly not. “There’s no one worse than Extra.” Not even Desin. No one could be worse than Extra, aside from, oh. Kudorin grinned. “He’s Remin.” Exhausted and exhilarated, Tano stumbled out of the closet. Sweating, feeling intoxicated, panting a sort of breathless, wordless litany of, “gods above, gods above,” he sagged against the wall. There was no one waiting for him, no one to help him; he was relieved that, after all, no one had heard his desperate, tormented cries, his panicked howling, his sobbing pleas for mercy. A superbly efficient gag. A superbly efficient artist and master. Feeling weak, dizzy; feeling strong, elated, Tano had to find a bathroom. Had to clean up. He felt so dirty, so deliciously soiled, so refreshingly clean. Clean and new. He wanted to go back, he had to go back for more, it“Here you are, look at you, what was Kudorin thinking, letting Kerato take you off like that?” Prince Anosanim smelled like a fantasy; Tano hugged him, wanting to be close to someone. “I should have known, if I’d thought for a second, I just didn’t - - yes, I know, it’s all so brokenly wonderful, isn’t it? Kerato’s a little more aggressive than I’m used to, but he does provide quite a splendid experience, doesn’t he? It’s not what I prefer for everyday lustsex, certainly, but it’s an exciting adventure, now and then.” Starting to feel more clear, more centered, Tano inhaled slowly. Wow. “That was.” He licked his lips. How could he describe it? “Intense?” Prince Anosanim guessed. With a warm smile, Prince Anosanim looked him over, touching his face, apricot-colored nails ghosting over his lips. “Are you all

right? Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it takes a while to come back down.” Taking a deep breath, Tano smiled back at him. “I’m fine.” Intense, yes, definitely intense. Shaking himself, Tano felt supremely alive. “That was great. I’ve never - I’ve done some play like that before, but nothing so intense, like you said. It’s intoxicating.” “Let’s go to Talin’s office, you can rest for a minute while I finish up some details with him. We still have two more stops to make!” Prince Anosanim guided him along; weak-kneed, he was grateful for Prince Anosanim’s arm around his waist. Grateful for Prince Anosanim’s comforting presence. He still felt a little shaken - happily, blissfully shaken, alive and new and elated. He wanted to do it again. He felt as if he were still screaming for it to be over. “Kerato is a wonderful family friend. He’s submissive, you know, in his marriage. His wife is intensely dominant, privately. So he enjoys some recreational lustsex on the side. Imela, that’s his wife, she works with me, she heads my secondary crew. Lovely woman, such a sweet smile, such a charming laugh, so good with numbers, very clever. She keeps him on a leash at home, you know, completely servile, completely docile. He’s utterly devoted to her. She’s full of the most wonderful little stories! Every time we talk she has some new tale of the trouble Kerato got into and how he had to be punished. We were all so sure that if Kerato ever got married, it would be to someone he’d completely subjugated, but then he met Imela and couldn’t imagine things any other way.” Finding the confiding ups and downs of Prince Anosanim’s voice soothing, Tano walked with him to Prince Talin’s office. Slipping into the bathroom, he washed up, splashing his face until he felt normal again. He had to jack off again, he needed it, his whole body was twitching with it, but he wanted to savor this feeling, wanted to revel in the way his skin prickled and his mouth tingled and his nipples hurt. His lips were red, swollen, bruised-looking, but that would fade soon enough. The plug up his ass made his thighs ache with need, but Kerato had given him that as a gift for Prince Remin, so he had to leave it in. It was just distractingly pleasurable, giving him a beautiful ache of fullness, and he wanted to touch it, to move it, to beg someone to fuck him. A soft, scolding, tsking sound. Anosukinom leaned against the bathroom wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Kerato knows that he can’t just leave a plug in someone like you. He learned that lesson after what happened with Remin and the nipple clamps. You can’t show it to Remin, anyway, he’ll just fuck you, and I don’t want that to happen when he’s been making such great progress.”

Euphoric and turned on already, awed by Anosukinom’s presence, Tano just stood there, one hand on the sink, vaguely pondering the notion that artistic and masterful Kerato was someone’s domesticated pet. He was having trouble holding still. A lot of trouble. “I could take it from you entirely,” Anosukinom suggested thoughtfully. “Or I could make it easier to bear. But you cannot show it to Remin while it’s still inside you, or take it out in front of him.” “Yes, Anosukinom. I understand.” He’d never jeopardize Prince Remin’s vows. “You’re so delightfully twitchy, I want to leave it right where it is.” Anosukinom pinched his own nipple, eyeing Tano. “I’m glad that we got to spend the day together. Anosanim’s had a great time, he’s loved having a day out with you. He’s glad that you’re getting laid, too, because you’re always so considerate, so unfailingly polite, that seeing you be a little selfish makes him feel more like family. If you insisted on sacrificing and putting aside your own pleasure out of respect for him or reverence to me, we wouldn’t feel as accepted, but this is nice.” Anosukinom flashed a beautiful smile. “Admirable or not, this is how we treat each other, so we like seeing it from you. Although if you’re curious, I did warp time for you a little. I won’t tell you exactly how long you were with Kerato experiencing that exquisitely nasty ecstasy, but for the rest of us, it was only fifteen minutes.” H-h-how long had it been? Tano felt his eyes widen, felt his knees buckle a little. Such a beautiful smile. Such perfect teeth. “I tidied you up a little, too. I didn’t want Remin to obsess too much over the marks. Oh,” the bathroom door swung open behind him, “Anosanim’s ready to go.” Anosanim had to give him credit, Tano was clearly trying to be normal, but, truth be told, he was failing miserably. He had a familiar kind of anxious, aroused, please-oh-please-fuck-me look, and his breathing was a little too shallow, and he was constantly squirming, and his erection wouldn’t fade. Had he been drugged? His face was flushed but he had his usual frank, cheerful conversational habits. He was so restless, and so undeniably erect, that when they spoke with the palace tailors about his new wardrobe, Anosanim felt sorry for him. Xio Voe had appointed a new woman in charge of the palace tailors, and she insisted that the palace tailors take their own measurements; borrowing measurements from the Royal House of Art or anyone else was forbidden. So Tano was going to have to be measured again. Anosanim could let it wait another day or two, until a time that Tano wasn’t squirrely with need, but that would mean delaying the new clothes.

Rather than subject someone else to it, and rather than embarrass Tano, Anosanim just measured Tano himself. Anosanim had measured all sorts of people for clothes, including fully erect belas, so Tano’s erection didn’t bother him. The base of the plug subtly protruding from Tano’s ass intrigued him - - he couldn’t tell, exactly, what sort of plug it was, what the full shape and size might be - - but it was easily ignored. Curious, he tapped it with his fingers; Tano groaned and Anosanim blushed, realizing that maybe he should keep his hands to himself. The meeting with the palace tailors was quick, and they had just one stop left. “Now, we don’t have time to visit all of the vaults,” Prince Anosanim said as they crossed the palace. “But I really must show you Remin’s, because he’ll be sharing it with you.” Shimmering into solidity just ahead of them, Anosukinom smiled. “There are stories behind every piece of jewelry. All of the people who’ve worn it, the events and moments they experienced when they wore it, who made it, where it will end up someday. There’s a beginning and an end and a life to everything. There are stories about the rocks they came from, where they were formed, and how, and when they were cut from the ground, and by whom, and what that person’s life was like.” While Tano made the sign to the gods, his mind opened and whirling with new thoughts, Anosukinom turned his smile on Prince Anosanim. “The stones and pieces with the unhappiest stories, those are the ones I steal from you. To transform them with my love. The ones with the happiest stories, I would never take from you.” “Oh, Kudorin, only you would think of that.” Prince Anosanim hugged Anosukinom, and Anosukinom kissed his cheeks, plucking a jeweled pin from his hair; the pin seemed to disappear from Anosukinom’s hand. If Prince Anosanim noticed, he didn’t show it; he just took Tano’s hand and resumed walking. “You must tell us some of these stories. Where things came from, how they came to be, it’s always so fascinating, and not always what we expect.” “Where things came from and how they came to be.” Anosukinom seemed to be murmuring to himself; he floated alongside them, matching their pace, several inches from the ground. “Orinakin calls them origin stories. Remin calls them creation myths. Xio Voe calls it history.” “Well, those are different things, aren’t they?” Prince Anosanim asked. Anosukinom smiled faintly. “Are they?” Yes. History was a real thing, the literal and legitimate record of real occurrences and real lives and real people. Creation myths were stories of where things came

from, but they weren’t real, they were religious fantasies. History might get a few facts wrong sometimes, and people might genuinely believe in their creation myths, but “there was a war and it ended on this date” was a very different statement than “once there was a sea creature who was really a goddess who threw herself upon the beach and when the waves foamed around her bloated carcass eggs rolled out and that’s where people come from.” Now, the idea that people could be born from eggs was, actually, more appealing to Tano than the idea of war, but that didn’t blur the line between fact and fantasy. Anosukinom made a thoughtful noise - - surely not in response to Tano’s thoughts, although he’d replied to Tano’s mental ramblings more than once that day, so it was possible. Speaking warmly to the guards, he approached a simple door bearing Anosukinom’s symbol. All of the doors in the palace marked like that were guarded and forbidden. Which was funny; seeing Anosukinom’s name did invoke reverence, but it didn’t seem like an effective way to warn people away. Some sort of, “danger, danger, get back!” sign would’ve been a better choice, maybe. Like the Jacacean flag, for example. Sudden, surprised snickering turned into a cough, and Anosukinom grinned at him with sparkling eyes. “Naughty Tano.” Yes, well. Blushing, and surprised to hear Anosukinom cough, Tano grinned back. He was very loyal to his king and would never speak ill of King Xio Voe. The rest of the Empire, however, he had awfully conflicted feelings about. Which Prince Remin had assured him was entirely natural and nothing to feel guilty over. Prince Remin had suggested that an attitude of love for King Xio Voe and hostile wariness about the Jacacean Empire was perfectly acceptable; that was, he was told, how Prince Desin approached the matter. Anosukinom led them through the doorway into a tiny chamber bearing two more guards and another door. There were narrow slits in the wall so that the guards could see out into the hallway. They had lamps, and a table and chairs, and seemed to have been playing cards. While Anosukinom chatted with them, Prince Anosanim opened the door and tugged Tano into a dark, cool chamber. Lighting torches with a prayer, Prince Anosanim said, “These rooms aren’t exactly public, since no one can enter unaccompanied, but we do let people visit here, and we sometimes pull items from these vaults for public displays. For special collections in the museums, that sort of thing. Xio Voe had everything re-cataloged and rearranged when he took over running the palace. You’re family, I can tell you that he and Kudorin had several arguments over which pieces should be kept here and which should be moved to the private vaults. Jacaceans love education, and they love their own history, so they have all sorts of things out on display, with all sorts of guided museum tours to show off their antique riches and historically significant

artifacts. What I didn’t know is that all of those are fakes. Replicas! From the sound of it, they have the fakes on display, and they have their private vaults filled with more fakes, and they have the real objects tucked away in secret little corners of the world no one even knows about. It must absolutely devastate them that Kudorin knows all of their secrets, but they’re terribly secretive anyway. I tried to ask Xio Voe who, precisely, knows the real locations of the real objects, and he refused to talk about it, but I distinctly got the impression that only the Emperor and The Heir know all of the spots, and if the rest of the royal family or the people guarding those spots know one or two locations, they’re completely in the dark about the others. I’ll bet that Xio Voe’s siblings don’t even fully realize all that their father has hidden away.” “What if something happens to the Emperor and The Heir?” Tano was horrified. “People won’t know where everything’s hidden, or even what to look for. They’ll lose vast parts of their own history!” “Absolutely awful, isn’t it?” Prince Anosanim fanned himself. “And the only person in the world who’d know for sure would be Anosukinom. The last person they’d ever want in charge of their precious hoards.” Looking around the room he was in, Tano saw display cases filled with fascinating objects. It reminded him of Prince Remin’s office or Prince Orinakin’s rooms. Crowns. Chairs; early thrones? Antique pottery. A faded, aged cloth with Anosukinom’s symbol painstakingly stitched in a rainbow of colors. “Of course, this is the scepter,” Prince Anosanim said, gesturing as he moved through the room. “The bowl, the hourglass. The relics of the time of the Great Inspiration. Let me see, Xio Voe moved everything around, so Remin’s jewelry must be in this, no, this one.” Prince Anosanim opened a door. Staring in a disbelieving trance at the hourglass, which was still counting out time, Tano couldn’t believe that he was actually in this room. With these things. Anorian history. It wasn’t all just abstract stories, it was real. These were tangible objects he could still look at. These people really had lived and died and left their mark. A sudden glimmer of gold caught his attention and he turned, well-trained by now to assess his priorities and be prepared to drop everything at that particular shine. There, through an open door, was a room. An entire room. Of gold. Moving forward, drawn to it, Tano stepped into the room. He was surrounded by it. Crowding display cases, filling the walls. Bracelets, rings, necklaces, pins, combs, buttons, buckles, earrings. Lustrous and warm, bright and rich. Gold, so much gold.

“It’s absolutely stunning, isn’t it?” Prince Anosanim sounded full of admiration. “Remin has some simply beautiful pieces. Every time that I think that I’m making some progress with him, he goes back to wearing the smallest, simplest, barest pieces, because he has so much trouble consistently reconciling what he wants and what everyone else wants for him. I think that his attitude’s better lately - - so much better, now that he has you - - but it’s still a habit for him to keep a very plain look. Between him and Desin and Talin, I absolutely despair sometimes, I really do. May the gods bless Orinakin, he never fails me. Well!” Prince Anosanim gestured around the chamber. Tano noticed the gesture from the corner of his eye; he was still caught, staring, transfixed by the luster of gold. “I’m sure that over time, Remin will buy you some new pieces, or you’ll get some for him, but as Remin’s husband, you’ll be able to wear any of this that you like. And perhaps you’d find a moment here or there to encourage him to be more generous with himself. These are absolutely gorgeous pieces, and it’s a shame to keep them locked away like this! They deserve to be out, to be shown off, to be worn! I rotate mine, you know, depending on my mood and the season and what the fashion trends are. I fully intend, by the end of my reign, to have displayed every single piece from - - no, no, that’s not entirely true. There are a few dreadful, gaudy things I simply refuse to wear in public. Not all of my ancestors had impeccable taste, unfortunately.” “I always like it in here.” Anosukinom stepped behind them into the room, running his fingers over a row of gold rings. Tano hadn’t dared to touch anything yet, but Anosukinom had every right to fondle his high priest’s jewelry. “There’s so much history, so much Anoremin here. I always like the rings the best. Anoremin’s hands touch so many people, his rings have touched so many Anorians. These rings were on hands that blessed people, that made the sign to the gods, that wrote letters and speeches and decrees, that pounded tables, that made a difference. Anoremin’s hands are always so full of love.” His voice was quiet. “Sometimes, when I think of everything that Anoremin’s done for my people, it rains.” Was Tano back yet? Or still out with Anosanim? Was Tano shopping? Trying on clothes? Remin pictured a tailor’s hands sliding over Tano, deft hands, masculine hands, smoothing fabric over Tano’s lean, muscular body. Brushing fabric aside to cup Tano’s ass and nudge Tano’s hips forward as a wet, inviting mouth opened for the beautiful hardness of Tano’s erection. The book he’d been reaching for slid from the shelf and fell into his hand; the physical reality of it startled Remin back into the moment. Right. Book. He’d wanted to borrow a passage from the book for his national message on emotional healing. Clearing his thoughts, Remin went to his desk; as he stepped up to it, his

chair slid out - - maybe his foot had bumped it - - and he sat down. Setting the book down, he found the page he’d wanted right away, the book falling open almost without his guidance. Finding his pen in his hand as he reached for it, he read the passage, whispering the words to himself to test their resonance. Tano thanked Anosukinom and Prince Anosanim as well as he could; Anosukinom just smiled at him and said, “I love you, too, Naritano,” and Prince Anosanim just hugged him and said, “Of course we’re being kind to you, you’re our brother,” as if there weren’t anything more obvious than that. When Tano finally got back to his beloved kitchen, he found that Chef Akeno and Lo Ariside had everything well in hand. Well, almost. Their knife work was a little off and the sauce was a little too sweet and he couldn’t imagine why they’d ever decided to add apples. Fortunately, Lo Ariside was the kind of cook who preferred to be corrected and informed rather than be petted and flattered, and Chef Akeno was happy to let Tano have things his own way in his kitchen, and he managed to tidy everything up in time. The dishes they sent out weren’t one hundred percent up to his standards, but they were close enough to keep Prince Remin satisfied. It was King Xio Voe’s meal that gave him pause. Was the fish flaky enough? Was the rice too dry? Were the vegetables crisp enough? Flavorful enough? What about the raspberry sauce? Maybe he should’ve drizzled on more of it, but King Xio Voe didn’t like things too sweet. Chef Akeno had already taken her leave by the time that Koso reported, as the plates came back from the dining room, that King Xio Voe had eaten all of the fish, all of the rice, and most of the vegetables. But the fruit had barely been touched. Immediately, Tano swung into action. Something light but soothing, something night-appropriate and dessert-like. Something King Xio Voe could share with Anosukinom? He sent Koso to find out where the king was and what he was doing, while Lo Ariside got started on the beverage and he raided the pantry. Measuring, whipping, and boiling, Tano was checking on the cream when he heard, “I smell chocolate.” Gods above, he hadn’t seen Prince Remin since lunch, and that seemed so long ago! Hugging Prince Remin, he inhaled deeply. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “I’ve been thinking about you all evening.” “Even when you were with Kerato?” Prince Remin’s voice was sensual and seductive; his hands cupped Tano’s ass, lifting slightly to bring Tano more fully against his body. “Did he leave marks? I want to see them.”

He couldn’t bring himself to move from Prince Remin’s embrace. He was so aroused and so happy that he just held on, nuzzling Prince Remin’s neck, sliding his fingers through Prince Remin’s hair. “I love you so much,” he breathed, wanting to say it again. “There aren’t any marks, I’m sorry, Anosukinom didn’t want them to bother you. But I’ll tell you all about it, I’ll tell you everything he did to me. I can show you some of it. And there was this guy, in the Royal House of Art, he,” oh, gods above, Prince Remin was fondling his ass and feeling him up through his shorts, but it was making him wonderfully, achingly aware of the plug, and he didn’t know how to tell Prince Remin that it was there without jeopardizing Prince Remin’s sexual stability, and until he figured that out he couldn’t - - oh, oh, that felt good. Groaning, he peeled himself off of Prince Remin, stepping away with a whimpering moan. While Lo Ariside was on the other side of the kitchen and her back was turned, he rubbed his dick for a second, just a second, justPrince Remin’s hand was on his forearm, lean fingers circling his wrist. Kissing his cheek, Prince Remin guided his hand in a slow, sensuous, unbearably arousing up and down motion, his fingers riding the bulge of his hard-on. “Tano.” A soft, discreet lick at his ear. “What’s inside you?” Of course Prince Remin knew. Of course he’d guess. Eyes closing, Tano couldn’t stop obeying Prince Remin’s hand, couldn’t stop touching himself. It felt so good and Prince Remin was so close that he was going to get off on this if Prince Remin didn’t stop him. “I don’t know.” He managed to whisper it; he didn’t care if Lo Ariside heard him, but she might. “He didn’t show it to me. Kerato. He put it in me and told me to keep it there. A-a-anosukinom told me not to show you, you can’t see it while it’s in me. It feels, oh, unh,” he was groaning and he barely remembered what he was saying, “so good, it’s not very big, it didn’t feel smooth when he put it in me, it felt, it felt, it, ah, ah, ah! Oh! Aahhh!” Gasping as he came, Tano clutched at Prince Remin’s robe with his free hand, moaning against Prince Remin’s shoulder. Shuddering, bright with pleasure, he leaned against Prince Remin for a moment, just breathing. “Come to bed and get me off,” Prince Remin whispered, biting his earlobe. “Tell me about the men you partnered with today. I want to feel you against me, I want to taste you while I come.” Okay. Yes. Right away. “And show it to me.” Prince Remin’s fingers were trying to crawl up under the hem of his shorts. “I won’t touch it, I just have to see it, I want to look at it.” That was very, very much not true; there was no way that Prince Remin wouldn’t try to touch it. He was trying to touch it as he said that he wouldn’t touch it. Shivering, Tano moved his hands and kissed him, and kissing Prince Remin was

always so sexual, always so thrilling, always so fulfilling and erotic, that Tano got lost in it, lived in it, thrived, and soon they were clutching at each other and groaning and gasping and crawling onto a table and“Chef Pitok!” There was a sharp, cracking sound right beside his head. Dazed, Tano looked up. She was rapping a wooden spoon on the table and glaring at him; he suspected that she’d like to rap that spoon on his head. “Your milk. Is scalding.” Her voice was so withering that if he hadn’t been on top of Prince Remin, his dick would’ve deflated. But since he was very much on top of Prince Remin, and Prince Remin’s mouth was doing fantastic, blood-stirring things to his neck, he was wonderfully, exquisitely hard. His - - was that a metaphor for - - oh! “Oh! The king’s dessert! I’m sorry, Prince Remin,” he was scrambling up and kissing Prince Remin and pulling away and kissing Prince Remin, “I’m sorry, it’s for the king.” Pressing a last kiss to Prince Remin’s perfect, sensuous mouth, he dashed over to the fire. Prince Remin went to the pantry - - to masturbate, they all knew it, but the intensity of Lo Ariside’s sharp, cutting glare kept Tano from following him. When he returned, he seemed more at ease; he stayed out of touching range, and Tano kept him grazing on snacks. Tano asked about his day, soaking up every word, loving the sound of his smooth, content voice. Koso came back with the news that Anosukinom and King Xio Voe were in Anosukinom’s courtyard, stargazing. He also came back with Prince Rini, who apologized for distracting him into being away from the kitchen, which explained his long absence. With the kitchen busy and noisy, Tano finished the dessert and helped Lo Ariside with the drink. When everything was to his liking, he positioned it carefully on a tray, covering it to keep it warm. “I’ll take it,” Prince Rini said cheerfully. Before Tano could speak, Prince Remin said, “Be careful. Keep it balanced, keep it intact, get it there before it cools, and-” “I can carry a tray without spilling it on myself,” Prince Rini insisted. “What am I, four years old? I’ll be fine, and so will your precious food. Oh, before I go.” Taking Tano’s arm, he stepped aside. Wondering what he wanted, Tano moved away from the others with him. Prince Rini’s silver eyes shone with curiosity as he whispered, “What’s inside you? Is it a plug? There’s something, isn’t there? Did Remin put it there? Can I see it?” Did everyone know? Could people tell just by looking at him? Was he that obvious? “It’s a plug, Kerato put it there.” Did Prince Rini know who Kerato was? “He-”

“Kerato?” Yes, he definitely knew who Kerato was. Laughing, Prince Rini looked at Tano with new interest. “What was he like? He won’t play any of his games with me, he won’t even make out with me, he keeps telling me to try again in another year. He lets me kiss him, but he won’t kiss me back, but it’s kind of sexy, anyway. What’d he do with you?” “Thank you for the continued excellence of your service,” Prince Remin said to Lo Ariside. In quick strides, he was between Prince Rini and Tano, nudging Prince Rini aside and taking Tano’s hand. “You can talk later. Take Xio Voe his dessert before it cools. Come, Tano. My brothers and their tailors and sculptors and friends have enjoyed you all afternoon.” Prince Remin’s strides were swift and his golden hair stirred in its own breeze as Tano followed him to the door. “Now it’s my turn.”

Part 279 Remin lusted. His first awareness upon waking alone in the morning was the acknowledgement that he ached. Ached, physically; he was so very, very aroused, so very, very hard. Ached, wanted, craved. His every thought was a twitching flash of memory. Memory of last night, of his handsome, irrepressible husband kissing him - - lips against his mouth, at his neck, brushing over his hipbone - - and touching him - Tano’s hands in his hair, on his thighs, pulling him closer - - and on him, against him, so much flesh, skin against skin, those fucking shorts Remin hated, hated, hated. Tano’s voice. Whispering. Telling him everything. Kudorin had teased Remin yesterday, hinted, but Tano told him everything. Told him about the sex. The men. How they looked, how they sounded, what they liked. What they did. What Tano did to them, for them, with them. Now Remin’s mind was full of it. Full of them. The strength of their arms, the heat of their skin, the way they’d gripped Tano’s thighs and breathed on Tano’s neck and grunted in ecstasy as they came. Fingers in Tano’s hair, dick in Tano’s mouth, masculine scent filling Tano’s nose. Images kept flashing through Remin’s mind, the images Tano had conjured up for him. Tano’s friendly, assertive hand sliding down the front of a man’s pants. Tano leaning back against a wall and pulling someone closer; someone crowding Tano into a corner and pushing him onto his knees. The thick length of an erection thrusting between Tano’s lips. Cum spilling from Tano’s open mouth, sticky smears of it glistening on his chin. Kerato Amuni slowly uncoiling a length of rope.

He kept hearing Tano’s voice. Whispering in his ears. Telling him everything, everything, everything. But he hadn’t had enough. Even everything hadn’t been enough. He wanted more. He wanted Tano to give him more. Sniffing, Tano peered into the pot. The scent was just right, but the broth wasn’t thick enough. He’d try adding a-he smelled incense-incense meant Prince ReminA hand gripped his elbow, pulling him. A low voice, tense, compelling, Prince Remin’s voice: “Come.” Tossing his spoon towards the nearest counter as he turned, Tano hurried along, untying his apron as Prince Remin dragged him towards the pantry. Prince Remin was going to want it off of him, and he was going to need it to - - oh, “Oh, nnn, yes, Prince Remin.” Prince Remin yanked him into the pantry and shoved him back against the shelves, a little rough, a little controlling. Lust blazed in Prince Remin’s eyes and Prince Remin was already kissing him, already grinding against him, and he was ready for it, “Yes, ah, oh, oohhh,” he wanted this. Shoving his apron between their groins, giving Prince Remin something to hump against besides him, he pushed up Prince Remin’s shirt, getting his hands on Prince Remin’s bare skin, wanting it, knowing that Prince Remin wanted it, too. It was aggressive, it was fast; Prince Remin wasn’t giving him a chance to catch up, but Tano didn’t need to catch up, Tano was right there with him. The shelves were digging into his back but he didn’t care, what he cared about was Prince Remin, and the way Prince Remin was rubbing against him insistently, urgently, hands all over him, kissing him hard, wanting him, taking him, trying to get right inside him. Prince Remin’s sexual aggression had Tano panting, sizzling, gripping Prince Remin tight against him, moaning with passion, with excitement, thriving on this sudden spike of sex in the middle of his pleasant morning routine. He loved Prince Remin, loved that Prince Remin would come to him like this, loved that Prince Remin felt safe being so aggressive with him, loved that he could be available, be the one Prince Remin came to for this. Returning Prince Remin’s urgent, hungry kisses, Tano moaned, gasping in pleasure as Prince Remin’s rocking hips pushed against him, creating the kind of friction that shoved him right up against the edge. Groaning, he would’ve panted out encouragement, would’ve urged Prince Remin to come, to go ahead and do it, to get off, but he was too late, it was already happening, Prince Remin was groaning against his mouth and

clawing across his thighs and grinding against him hard, hips shoving into him, and it felt, it, it, “Ah, oh, that’s it, that’s, ah!” Crying out, Tano shuddered as he felt a sharp surge of pleasure, a swift sear of it lunging upward and then exploding, burning, leaving him dazed and breathless. Sagging back against the shelves, Prince Remin’s weight against him, Tano kissed Prince Remin while the sweet pleasure of it still simmered through him, hugging Prince Remin close, nuzzling against Prince Remin’s neck. A grunt, a sigh; Prince Remin kissed his neck, a precious intimacy. He whispered, “I love you, gods above, that was so good,” and Prince Remin kissed his neck again, smoothing his shirt back down. “Come to me early.” Prince Remin’s voice was private, a sensual whisper just for him. “When you come to me for lunch. I don’t want to wait. I need you.” Yes, yes. Any time Prince Remin wanted him, any time Prince Remin asked. “I’ll be there.” A slow exhalation; Prince Remin relaxed against him, kissed him. Lazy, sweeping kisses, like slow, easy sex. Prince Remin started rubbing his ass, and he started rolling his hips to get that so-good feeling back, and it wasn’t long before they were getting off again, a good, deep, reverberating orgasm that brought a languid sort of pleasure in its wake. Tano snuggled into Prince Remin’s embrace, and Prince Remin whispered very sweet, very explicit things in his ears, and they made out for a while longer. Until Prince Remin sighed and said that he had a meeting with the high priests and he hadn’t even showered yet, and Tano remembered that sauce he’d left bubbling over the fire. So they kissed and hugged and agreed to steal another few minutes together in a couple of hours, and Prince Remin tugged his shirt back down again, and Tano tied his apron back on, and they parted ways. Floating on sweet satiation and the enchanting gold of Prince Remin’s eyes, Tano hummed a song of praise and discovered, to his relief, that his sauce was just fine. He tried to apologize to Lo Ariside for running out, but she waved him away with a grunt. “We’re here to serve the royal family and keep them happy. As long as whatever you ran off to do made Prince Remin happy,” and her expression indicated that she knew exactly what he’d run off to do, “there’s nothing else to say.” “I tried to open - - there’s no lock on the pantry doors,” Koso said, standing by one of the doors, examining it. “What did you do, push one of those barrels in the way? No, they swing this way, that wouldn’t work. What’d you do?”

What? Tano watched Koso study the door in mystification for a moment, then realized what Koso meant. “Oh. Prince Remin must have locked the doors.” Koso shot Tano a baffled, irritated look. “There’s no lock. These doors have never locked.” Lo Ariside clicked her tongue. “The Seven Siblings don’t need matches to start fires and don’t need locks to bolt doors, either. Now get back to work, I want those vegetables washed.” “I don’t need matches to start fires, either, but I can’t lock doors on my own,” Koso muttered, shuffling over to his station. Tano didn’t know - - in a general, overall sense - - why some people seemed more blessed than other people, and that was okay. He didn’t need to understand it, because he wasn’t the one handing out blessings. He assumed that the gods understood it, and left it at that. But why Prince Remin seemed more blessed than Koso wasn’t that hard to guess. Did Prince Remin lock the doors? Ask for the doors to be locked? Did Prince Remin not think twice about it, and just let the gods handle it or not as they saw fit? Probably the gods locked the doors to protect Prince Remin’s privacy, and Prince Remin had nothing to do with it. Surely Prince Remin himself couldn’t wish a door locked with his mind. Then again, maybe he could. Either way, Prince Remin and the gods existed in a unique harmony all of their own, that didn’t really need to be explained to Koso or Tano or anyone else. Tano was just glad that someone - - Prince Remin, the gods, anyone - - had the sense to lock doors. Personally, he’d been too caught up in wanting Prince Remin to consider anything as mundane as a door. Stepping out of the tunnel, Orinakin adjusted his clothes under his robe and tucked the jeweled combs back into his hair. He was double-checking his hair in a mirror to make sure that he’d placed the combs correctly when he heard a knock at his office door. Hurriedly closing the tunnel, he called, “Come in,” and moved swiftly to his desk. “Oh, you’re here,” Rini said, opening the door, and Orinakin wondered how many times Rini had knocked. Following Rini into the office, Anosanim smiled warmly at Orinakin. “Now, we don’t want to interfere.” Which meant, of course, that they fully intended to interfere. “Regarding what?” Orinakin asked, taking a seat behind his desk.

Rini flopped across Orinakin’s couch, drumming his fingers on his stomach. “We heard that you’re meeting with Remin and Tano today. About the wedding.” He should’ve guessed. “Yes, the meeting’s today, but I won’t be there myself. Tesulin will attend.” Stepping behind him, Anosanim plucked the combs from his hair. “Oh, what a shame! Well, then we’ll absolutely have to go.” Rini made a sound of agreement. “Someone has to represent the family. It might as well be us.” “Doesn’t Remin represent the family?” Orinakin asked as Anosanim’s fingers combed through his hair. “Now, chances are, Remin might understand what an important occasion this is to all of Orina Anoris, and plan accordingly.” Anosanim slid the combs into Orinakin’s hair, patting them into place. “However, it’s also just as likely that he’ll try to have the smallest, plainest wedding possible, and I simply cannot allow that.” Stepping around the desk, Anosanim eyed Orinakin, his rising satisfaction streaked with pride. “Oh, Orinakin, you’re such a handsome man, you’re simply gorgeous. It’s all right, then, if we stop by the meeting for a few minutes? To make sure that things are going well, you know. Maybe make a few recommendations regarding the decorations.” Nervous anticipation buzzed in the air. Orinakin didn’t have the heart to deny Anosanim something so important to him. They’d been so considerate to check with Orinakin in the first place, instead of barging right in, how could he say no? He suspected that was precisely why they’d asked; this moment had Rini’s prettily manipulative fingerprints all over it. Remin would have a harder time kicking Rini out of the meeting if Anosanim claimed that they’d spoken to Orinakin about it beforehand. But Anosanim’s opinion on the décor would be valuable, regardless, and Orinakin didn’t see any reason they shouldn’t attend the meeting, other than Remin’s potential irritation. “Absolutely, I think that you’ll have a lot to contribute.” Gloating but trying to hide it, Rini hopped up, smiling merrily. “Great! I think so, too. It’ll be fun. Xio Voe’s not going to be there, is he?” “No, I don’t expect so, but he might stop by.” Most likely, he’d simply let Kotisa handle it. “Such an important international event, I’d think that he’d want to be involved,” Anosanim said thoughtfully. Rini snorted. “Weddings are about romance and feelings. He probably thinks that they’re just excuses for cialexes to dress up and hug and weep.”

Anosanim frowned; Orinakin felt his quick flex of defensiveness. “Oh, Extra, that’s not fair. Xio Voe understands the importance of weddings. They’re important cultural markers. Besides, he’s so close with Ilanosa, and of course so close with Remin and Tano, that I’m sure that he cares a great deal.” Orinakin smiled. “Dressing up, hugging, and weeping are important components of a wedding. Most weddings involve all three at some point during the event.” Rini grinned at him. “All three at once, if you’re doing it right.”

Feeling very, very good about the world, Tano returned to the kitchen after delivering Prince Remin’s lunch. As they’d made lunch, he and Lo Ariside had discussed the next meal in depth, and when he got back, she was already working on the dough. Rattling off a list of instructions to Koso, Tano jumped right in, cheerfully deboning fish. Being with Prince Remin made him feel so good, he wanted to start dancing, wanted to hug everyone he saw, wanted to leap up and spin around with his arms in a circle and loudly praise the gods for the splendor of the world. People might start looking at him funny, but all he cared about was the way Prince Remin looked at him. Looked at him with those enchanting golden eyes. Captivating his soul. Tano was lost in thought and slicing fish when a woman walked into the kitchen. She had long braids and a brisk stride, and she took in the entire kitchen with one glance. “Good afternoon,” Tano said. He wanted to offer her something to eat. “Chef Pitok?” She made it sound like a question, but he got the impression she already knew. “I am Kosita Ohiru. If it is convenient, Chef Pitok, the king has requested that I meet with you and Prince Anoremin to discuss your wedding.” Oh! “Sure, of course.” If King Xio Voe wanted it, if Prince Remin would be there, absolutely. “Let me just, one moment.” Turning to Lo Ariside, he went over their plans for dinner again; she knew exactly what he wanted and finished all of his sentences for him. He chalked up some instructions for Koso and followed Lo Ohiru out of the kitchen. Smoothing his hair down, he tried to make polite conversation with her, but she didn’t seem interested in idle chatter. Lo Ohiru brought him into a cozy, green-and-white drawing room with a conference table at the far end. Prince Anosanim was already there, Prince Rini perched on the table, a third man with them expensively dressed in purple. Surprised to see the princes, Tano was touched that they took such an active interest in Prince Remin’s life. It was just like them to get involved; he thought that

it was terrific that they’d take the time to attend the meeting. He found the Seven Siblings’ devotion to each other inspiring and, actually, reassuring. The man in purple was, Tano learned, Prince Orinakin’s assistant, Tesulin. He watched Tano with quiet attention, like he wanted to figure Tano out. There wasn’t all that much to figure out, in Tano’s opinion, but Tano would’ve wanted to know all about whoever married Prince Remin, too, if he weren’t the one. When Prince Remin came in, Prince Rini quickly slid down from the tabletop. The first thing Prince Remin did was to hug Tano. Happy to see him, happy to be hugged by him, Tano hugged back, so glad to be with him again. Prince Remin’s kisses were deep and consuming, and when Prince Remin broke away to speak to Lo Ohiru, Tano kissed his jaw, kissed his cheek, nuzzled his ear, inhaled his exotic scent. They were sort of in public, so maybe Tano should back up, but Prince Remin hadn’t let go yet, was still embracing him, so Tano stayed right there. Nodding, Prince Remin said, “Let us begin.” His voice was gorgeous, smooth and confident and masterful. Calm but innately powerful. Kissing Tano’s cheek, he murmured, “Sit with me,” and tugged Tano towards a chair. At Prince Remin’s nudge, Tano sat, and Prince Remin settled familiarly onto his lap, reclining comfortably against his chest, one elbow on the armrest. The first topic of discussion was wedding guests. Prince Remin and Tesulin talked back and forth, drawing up an extensive list of religious leaders, political leaders, and family members. Lo Ohiru already had a separate list in hand, one King Xio Voe seemed to have given her. Holding onto Prince Remin, Tano smelled Prince Remin’s hair and listened, fascinated by the wide assortment of people who’d expect an invitation to Prince Remin’s wedding. Some of the names he recognized simply because they were so important; some of the names he recognized because Prince Remin had mentioned them, people Prince Remin corresponded with or made casual reference to in conversation. He was eager to meet them. He wanted to get to know people Prince Remin considered friends, and he was interested in general in other religious leaders. He wanted to see if they carried even a glimmer of Prince Remin’s charisma. “You, Tano?” Prince Remin twisted to meet his eyes, lightly squeezing his thigh. “Who would you like to invite to the wedding?” He hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know, I mean, the rest of the servants will be there, anyway, right? That’s all, I guess. I don’t really have anyone else.” Was that sad? It seemed like he should be upset by that, but he was looking into Prince Remin’s eyes, and he knew that everything was all right. “Maybe a few of your friends from Ilaeia,” Prince Remin suggested. “Some of the people you worked with in Vafiance, some of the people you grew up with in

Karaten. They’ll be interested in knowing what’s happened to you, what’s become of you since they saw you last.” He could only imagine their surprise. Now that he thought about it, it would be nice to see some of them again. At least they’d enjoy receiving personal invitations to a royal Anorian wedding. He suggested a few names, along with last known locations or people who might know where they were. It was very considerate, he thought, for Prince Remin to suggest it, and for Lo Ohiru to take the information down as if it were just as important as the list of kings, presidents, monks, and shaman Prince Remin had offered. The next discussion was over the date. Tano didn’t care when he married Prince Remin; it wasn’t like he had an important schedule of his own to negotiate around. The only real consideration, in his mind, was that the sooner they got married, the sooner they could engage in the lengthy bouts of penetrative lovesex they’d been craving. Prince Remin stated frankly that his wedding was his first priority; he’d reschedule anything else around it, and his only concern was timing it around the festivals. He also said that his parents and the queen would adjust their schedules around the wedding and be in Orikodisata on time. That left Lo Ohiru and Tesulin to coordinate King Xio Voe’s schedule with Prince Orinakin’s. It was mind-boggling, how many immovable commitments King Xio Voe had. And in two places at once! He had back-to-back summits in Orikodisata and Seijaces. Political, economic, scientific meetings. Appointments Lo Ohiru had no information on, other than that Sulano had very firmly informed her that they were not negotiable. What were those, secret Jacacean military meetings? While the others talked, Prince Remin turned his head, sinking back against Tano and rubbing light, lazy kisses against Tano’s jaw. Combing his fingers through Prince Remin’s thick, soft hair, Tano whispered, “I love you,” and soaked up the affection. He was glad that Prince Remin had someone to kiss. Immeasurably grateful that he was the one Prince Remin kissed. They narrowed it down to four possible dates; they had to check with the king and Prince Orinakin to make sure which was best. Then Lo Ohiru said, “Now, about attire.” “The colors must be gold and white and black,” Prince Anosanim said. “I’d like Chef Pitok to wear as little as possible,” Prince Remin said, looking at the others. “You can’t keep him naked all of the time,” Prince Rini said. “Not that I’d mind, but Sadum would think it was inappropriate.”

“An old-fashioned look would be best, don’t you think?” Prince Anosanim asked. “To give it a very traditional, Anorian feel. I was thinking about something from the style of Anosatim Inanosat Anoremin A Mihi’s reign. You remember how everyone wore those long, long boots and those long, floor-length capes back then.” “This doesn’t sound like ‘as little as possible’ to me,” Prince Remin said. “Unless that’s all he wears.” “No, that would be for you,” Prince Anosanim said. “For Tano, I was thinking about what the belas wore back then. You remember how Anosukinom’s belas dressed, during Anoremin A Mihi’s reign. I think that Tano would look absolutely fetching like that, don’t you? It’s a little bold, perhaps, so we might have to alter it to-” “Yes,” Prince Remin said suddenly, sitting forward. “Yes, we’ll dress him like that. Just like that.” Prince Anosanim smiled as if pleased that Prince Remin found favor with his suggestion; Prince Rini smirked at Tano. Tesulin looked suspicious; Lo Ohiru simply wrote it down. A pharaonic bela? Tano loved the idea. Pharaonic belas were among the most beautiful, sought-after people in the world. It was unbelievably flattering that Prince Anosanim thought that he could dress the way that they did. He wondered what, specifically, those particular belas had worn. Whatever it was, Prince Remin liked it. He wasn’t sure what Prince Anosanim would characterize as “bold,” but after having gone shopping with the man, Tano thought that Prince Anosanim’s definition of “bold” was probably fairly scandalous. “Would it be all right?” Tano asked. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass your family or hurt Prince Remin’s reputation in front of, well, basically, the entire world. Everyone’s attention should be on Prince Remin, not on whatever I’m wearing. Not that I think that anyone cares what I wear,” he added, “but there will be some people from conservative cultures there, I’d imagine.” “No, they’ll love it,” Prince Rini said. “People hope and wish for that stuff when they come here. You’ve been abroad, you know how it is. Some foreigners make annual pilgrimages to see Anosukinom, and some foreigners take vacations to visit our inatunins. They want to see sex when they come here. They want to be scandalized, they’re looking for it. They’d be disappointed if they went home without a good thrill.” His grin sparkled with mischievousness. “Let’s give them what they want.” “Goodness, I’d never ask you to wear anything indecent,” Prince Anosanim said. “It’ll be perfectly suitable. Naturally, we’ll tailor it to your comfort. Now, as far as Anosukinom and our king, I’ve sketched a few possibilities for them, too. Since

they’ll be such an important part of the ceremony. Something loose and open for Anosukinom, I thought, and a very traditional, formal, old-fashioned look for King Xio Voe. I’ll speak with the tailors about that. Now, the decorations.” “Right, where do we start?” Prince Rini asked. “The flowers, I thought that it would be hilarious if they’re all edible. It would fit them both.” “That would be charming!” Prince Anosanim exclaimed. “What a clever touch, and perfectly appropriate. That does limit our choices, though.” While Prince Remin sat back, watching, his brothers talked in an enthusiastic back and forth, tossing ideas across the table. They worked out every detail of the decorations, from the kinds of shrubbery they wanted outside the stadium to the napkins they wanted at the ball the night before. They didn’t just offer abstract notions, they knew how and where to get everything they wanted. They were amazingly resourceful; they seemed to know a specialist for every area of life. And not only local people, but citizens all across the country. They had someone in mind for each task; Lo Ohiru was kept busy jotting down names and jobs. Once they’d determined the songs for the ball and the décor for the reception, and every last second of the wedding itself, Prince Rini said, “That just leaves the food. What do you think, Tano?” They’d been going along so well, speaking so authoritatively, that he’d assumed that they’d handle everything. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d need to speak again. Clearing his throat, he tried to come up with a savvy answer. Then he just fell back on honesty. “I don’t know, I’ve never had to come up with a menu for anything like this. My food’s been really specific to other situations. I did a lot of work with beans in Vafiance, and I can make Jacacean dishes for King Xio Voe’s tastes, but none of that seems appropriate for Prince Remin’s wedding.” “Yes!” Prince Anosanim looked delighted. “Gods above, how perfect! We know roughly what the budget is for Remin’s wedding. Let’s nail that down, and then plan very simple food. Delicious food, of course, but a lot of old staples, the sort of food Tano’s grandmother made for him growing up. And then, with all of the money we’ve saved from the budget, we’ll send the equivalent in food to Vafiance!” “What?” Prince Rini sounded stunned. “Oh, that would be amazing,” Tano said. That sounded incredibly generous. He was torn; it was a fantastic idea, and too good an opportunity to pass up, but he’d never dream of making Prince Remin’s wedding less than ideal. Food was important to Prince Remin, and Tano wanted to celebrate their wedding with some

creative, fun dishes. On the other hand, food was important to the citizens of Vafiance, too, and this was a way to help them. “It would be an opportunity to remind everyone that help is still needed,” Tesulin said mildly, watching Prince Remin carefully. “Prince Orinakin would no doubt be happy to make a brief speech to explain the situation to your guests and thank you for your generosity.” “What!” Prince Rini exclaimed. “Hanibulatin, you’re the last person in the world I ever thought would say anything like that! This is Remin’s wedding! To an amazing chef! This is your chance to serve people all sorts of fancy, inventive food! I thought that you were going to push for the most lavish spread possible! I’m not saying that it’s a bad idea, it’s a great idea, I feel like I should apologize to Adanotu for not coming up with this gift myself. But coming from you?” Leaning across the table, Prince Rini squinted at his brother. “Who are you?!” “Oh, I know what you mean,” Prince Anosanim said, sitting back and fanning himself. “Remin and Tano’s wedding! Just imagine what we could serve! But in the spirit of celebrating and honoring what matters most to our beloved couple, I think that such a selfless gesture makes the most sense. Helping other people, feeding other people, using their resources to others’ benefit, the sense of unity in reaching beyond our own borders, setting the example for others, it sounds just like what Remin and Tano would do.” “Our builder of wonders.” Prince Remin’s voice was low and rich, full of love, as he reached across the table and took Prince Anosanim’s hand. Looking fond, looking touched, Prince Anosanim placed his hand in Prince Remin’s. “You are so kind, so thoughtful, to suggest such a generous thing. No mere empty gesture, there is substance to this act. I cannot take credit for it, you-” “Don’t be silly, I only said it first,” Prince Anosanim said. “And maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s not fair to Tano. A wedding is a monumental event, and I should’ve thought before I spoke. You’ll want to prepare a brilliant menu,” he told Tano, looking worried. “It should be lavish, it should be full of gourmet treats and exotic delicacies.” “No, no,” Tano said quickly. “I mean, yes, exotic delicacies would be nice. But there’s a lot that we can do with the basics. That’s why they’re the basics! To feed so many people, simpler is better, anyway, and we can experiment with the traditional recipes to make some interesting dishes. As long as we can keep the food appetizing, it should be fine. And it’ll be fun to challenge myself. I’ll talk with Lo Ariside about it, and Chef Akeno, they’ll probably have some great ideas.” He already had some of his own! The traditional food of an old-fashioned celebration, that would include a lot of classic dishes. Heavier things for the night before, and

then lighter things after the wedding, maybe. If he went with all Anorian dishes, he could skip a lot of foreign spices and imported ingredients, so that would save money. “Tano can make delicious, appealing food out of any kitchen,” Prince Remin said. “The average man looks at the broken chalk, the spilled paint, and sees trash, a meaningless mess. The artist looks at the broken chalk, the spilled paint, and sees possibility, color, metaphor, and inspiration. Whatever his budget, Tano will provide us with a mouthwatering feast.” “Thank you.” Tano grinned, aglow from Prince Remin’s praise. He’d represent Prince Remin, he’d feed the former pharaoh, Anosukinom’s guests would all be there; he’d have to provide the best dishes of his life. But Prince Remin had confidence in him, and he knew that he could do it. It was funny; he knew that he was a good chef. He’d be able to make tasty, appetizing food for the wedding even with a limited budget. But knowing that Prince Remin believed in him made him feel even more confident that he could do it. When Prince Remin looked at him that way, encouraging, inspiring, confidencebuilding, Tano felt like anything was possible, like he could accomplish whatever Prince Remin asked. Cook something? No problem! Overcome an obstacle? No problem! Run naked through the streets or swim across an ocean or fly into the sun? Any time! Prince Remin believed in him, and he could do anything. It was a great feeling; Prince Remin always elicited such strong, positive feelings. He felt better about himself and better about the world every time they were together. Rini wanted to laugh. The way Tano acted around Remin was hilarious. Awesome and great and good, but funny! He acted like there were two sets of people in the room: first there was Remin, and then there was everyone else. Remin was always the most important. Tano touched Remin as much as possible, and listened to Remin all of the time - - even during the most ordinary conversation - - as if right at that second Remin were speaking for the gods, and the sound of Remin’s voice was really the sound of the gods, and no other words would ever be as significant. While Remin was talking about, like, toenails. And then there was the way that Tano looked at Remin! Constantly, watching, staring, with this fascinated little smile, like he was so happy that in another minute he’d start laughing. Tano was thrilled to be around Remin. He looked at other people and listening to other people and talked to other people; he was great with normal interactions and friendly banter. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like other people; he just liked Remin way too much.

But it was Remin, and Remin was great, and if Tano was going to fawn over anybody, it might as well be Remin. It was going to be a lot of fun if Tano kept acting that way after they were married. Really, Rini would’ve thought that Selorin would marry someone like that; Selorin liked guys who acted like he was the best ever. Remin was pompous sometimes but also really strict and self-sacrificing, sometimes, and wasn’t as comfortable with constant flattery as Selorin was. Hunh, maybe Tano was good for Remin, then, and would push him out of that self-sacrificing thing. Half of Rini looked at Remin sitting in Tano’s lap, and Tano holding Remin close, and thought, “Oh, gotta get used to that,” because he hadn’t seen Remin so comfortable with a guy in years. The other half of him looked at them and thought, “Right.” Because it was right, it made sense; that was the way Remin naturally acted around guys. It was cute and sexy and fun, how affectionate Remin and Tano were, how familiar and intimate and cozy they were together. Before Tano, Remin had never really been alone - - he had too many brothers and too many gods for that - - but he’d acted sort of - - not doomed, exactly. Kind of the way Talin was acting. Like he knew that not everyone reached the pinnacle of life’s happiness, and he planned to die unfulfilled, and he accepted that. No more of that shit, not for Remin. He’d found Tano and fallen in love, and now he radiated happiness. He was as giddy about Tano as Tano was about him, and Tano’s giddiness level was hard to match. It probably wasn’t realistic to think that in another ten or five or even two years, Tano would still look at Remin with that same enthralled expression. But it would be kind of cool if it lasted. It was romantic, to think of someone being so excited about his own husband. Remin attended a lot of meetings. Ran a lot of meetings, from international summits to informal strategy sessions. Often, he took charge, leading, coordinating, keeping the meeting organized, keeping the discussion on-topic, keeping the time in mind. Sometimes, the meeting lagged without him; sometimes, his word was taken as definitive, and anything he said would shut down the discussion, so he’d sit back and listen, taking everything in, urging more people to speak up. This particular meeting concerned his own wedding, so he’d expected to jump in with ideas and suggestions, arranging the wedding to his and Tano’s particular tastes. He barely had to say a word. Anosanim and Rini ran everything. Between them, they had impeccable taste and intimate knowledge of Anorian resources. They were eager to help; they loved him, loved Tano, loved parties, loved people, loved

presents and pretty things and glamorous spectacles. They could’ve held their own meeting, just the two of them, and determined everything just the same. Their ideas were, he had to admit, better than his own. Anosanim’s taste level and Rini’s fun level were superior to his, and the resulting blend was a masterful, elegant wedding Remin could be proud of. Not so over-the-top that he had to ask them to tone it down; not so frivolous as to mock the occasion. Adanotu really had blessed Rini with a gift for parties. As for Anosanim, it wasn’t just his knack for decorating which made his contributions so valuable; it was also his love of people, his enthusiasm for other people’s happiness, his social skills. His foresight, his organizational skills, his ability to plan and prepare, his eye for detail. When the meeting ended, Remin thanked Lo Ohiru and Tesulin, then hugged Rini and Anosanim. His arm around Tano, he thanked his brothers for taking such an interest in his wedding. “Oh, Remin, of course!” Anosanim squeezed his arm. “We love you, and we completely adore Tano, and we’re happy to be able to help! We’d do absolutely anything for you, you know that. Now, you’ll forgive me, I hate to run, but I really must rush. I have to approve some plans to be sent out tonight, or we’ll fall terribly behind schedule.” Kissing his cheek, Anosanim hugged Tano and then hurried away in a flutter of orange. Smiling at Rini, Remin felt a quick burst of love for him, so young and spoiled but so generous and eager to help. Murmuring a blessing, Remin cupped his chin, kissing his forehead. “Our beloved Kuladin.” “That’s me.” Rini shot Tano a sparkling smile. “I think that my favorite part of the whole wedding will be your outfit. Well, no,” he frowned, “it’s probably the gift to Vafiance. But your outfit will definitely be my second favorite.” Remin grinned, squeezing Tano close while Tano laughed. “Mine, too.” Tano wanted to start work on the wedding menu immediately, but he had some more immediate tasks ahead. As soon as he got the dinner service out of the way, he devoted himself to a cake. A very carefully constructed cake. Prince Remin came to the kitchen to talk and sneak tastes; to make up for guarding the cake from Prince Remin’s greed, he offered a bowl of chocolate mousse, and that kept Prince Remin content for a while. They talked about the wedding, and about the guys Tano had partnered with the day before, and about how Prince Remin’s day had gone, and about the cake Tano was making. The cake was ambitious both in flavor and appearance, and Tano spent more time than usual in tasting and testing. When he finally had the

cake ready and finished, Prince Remin helped him to transfer it onto a cart, and they covered it up and wheeled it through the palace. “You should’ve let me taste it,” Prince Remin said. “I’m not used to you denying me food. I’m not sure that I like this new trend.” “It’s not a trend. I promise.” Tano steered the cart down the hallway and past the guards. “I hate to deny you anything that you want.” Prince Remin brushed against him, hip bumping him lightly. “I like that about you.” Mmm, that felt, oh, so nice, so, ah, “Yes, yes, more.” Moaning, Anosanim curled his fingers in Panori’s grip, curled his toes in Rikano’s grip, and came, crying out in pleasure, a quick moment of tension in ecstasy drawing his muscles taut under the belas’ hands. And then he sagged back in the lounging chair, spent and blissfully relaxed. With a happy, satisfied moan, Ileka sat back, licking his lips, and the other five belas got back to massaging Anosanim. Tilting his face lazily to Behiko’s, Anosanim took a kiss, and then his eyes slipped shut drowsily. Mmm, this was so nice. He heard laughter, not from among the belas with him but elsewhere in the belam, and then a happy squeal from Depano. Desin’s voice, Desin’s laughter. “Hey, not right now, I’m just here to see Anosanim. But, yeah, meet me in my room in about an hour.” With reluctance and curiosity, Anosanim opened his eyes. Desin kissed one bela, smacked another on the ass, and sauntered over to Anosanim with a grin. Stopping right behind Rikano, who was massaging Anosanim’s feet, Desin winked at Anosanim. “You look relaxed.” “Mmm, I am.” Anosanim felt as if he’d melted right into the chair. Desin ran his fingers through Rikano’s silky black hair; Rikano sighed, nuzzling back against Desin’s thigh. “I hate to interrupt, but you’re going to want to see this. Tano baked you a cake.” Bade hadn’t realized that baking a cake could take so much work or be so interesting. A good chef was so much more than someone who’d memorized a bunch of recipes, apparently. Tano was also an artist, a chemist, and apparently a bit of an engineer, as well. The two of them were standing over the cake, discussing its construction, when they heard a gasp and turned.

Anosanim rushed into the room, dressed in a thin, dark orange satin dressing gown and, Bade would guess, nothing else. “Oh, Tano!” He hugged Tano, paused to stare at the cake, and hugged Tano again. “It’s simply gorgeous! You didn’t have to go to so much trouble! I can’t believe it! You’re so kind and so talented, this is absolutely marvelous, thank you!” It didn’t even look like a cake, to Bade. It was a two-story building, with windows and chimneys and everything. The pale orange frosting looked like brickwork. Green ivy climbed one side of the building, covered in bright orange flowers. It was all edible, according to Tano; two kinds of cake decorated with frosting, chocolate, and sugar. Bade had seen a lot of fancy cakes before, but this one looked really elaborate and detailed. Tano had described it using a lot of Jacacean and Ilaeian terms for the techniques. “I’m glad that you like it,” Tano said, hugging Anosanim back. “Thank you, thank all of you, for everything, you’ve been so kind, I wanted to do something for you.” “Can we eat it now?” Rini asked. He appeared to be sitting cozily on Selorin’s lap on the couch, but Selorin had a tight grip on him to restrain him; he’d been trying to sneak a taste of the flowers on the ivy. “No, I want to look at it first!” Anosanim’s hand fluttered to his throat as he gazed at the cake in admiration. “Oh, Tano, it’s simply lovely! What adorable little windows!” “I’m sorry that it’s not a real building,” Tano said. “I didn’t have much time, and the only person there to help me was trying to eat all of the ingredients.” Selorin and Desin looked at Remin and snickered; Remin, who was tucked on the sofa with Orinakin in an intimate tangle, just kept doing what he’d been doing since he’d sat down: eyeing Tano’s ass. “No, this is perfect! I’m so touched that you would go to all of this trouble! And I’m so proud of you, to do all of this by yourself!” Anosanim turned his gaze to Tano, reaching for Tano’s arm. “Naritano! If I designed something, you could turn it into a cake for me! Other buildings, or even other things?” “Oh, yeah, anything,” Tano said. He turned to Bade and said, “In Jacacea, it has to be able to support itself, because the entire cake has to be edible. In Ilaeia, you can use any tricks you want to make it look good, so I could use wood or metal, even.” “How do they eat it, they just cut out the cake around the supporting structure?” Bade asked. “In Ilaeia, they usually bring the cake in, and everyone applauds it. Then they cut out one strategic piece for the guest of honor, and then they take it out again, and then they bring in servings from the kitchen,” Tano explained. “They say that it’s

because they don’t want everyone to see the artwork being destroyed and degraded, but sometimes they’re serving from an entirely different cake with similar frosting work, and the original cake they displayed was built actually using barely anything edible at all. There was an incident for a certain patron’s birthday where someone found the original cake two days later, and it was all wood and fabric and jewels with a little sliver of cake cut out. Since then, some people have been making a deliberate effort to show off how authentic their cakes are, and other people have taken that incident as permission to go even farther and hardly even pretend that the display cake is food anymore.” “The cakes we could design for my birthday,” Anosanim said, fanning himself and staring at the cake. “For the festivals! For my wedding! We could design a cake for the grand opening of each one of my buildings! A replica of the stadium!” “Artwork in a new medium,” Talin said. “An edible medium.” “We’ll do it the Jacacean way,” Anosanim decided. “Entirely edible. It’ll be more of a challenge, but it’s so much more artistic that way, don’t you think?” “Right,” Rini said. “Can we eat while you debate what’s artistic?” Tano cut the cake; he served Anosanim first, then served Remin second, and he gave Remin at least twice as much as he gave everyone else. It really was a delicious cake, with a lighter, fluffier layer of cake and a thicker, heavier layer. The lighter layer was faintly sweet and sort of citrusy tasting, like oranges. The thicker, heavier layer was rich with chocolate. They made nice contrasts in Bade’s mouth, keeping him interested in his next bite. Remin stayed tangled on the couch with Orinakin, chewing steadily and licking his fork in a disturbingly lewd manner. Kudorin and Xio Voe showed up; Kudorin curled up on Orinakin’s other side, eating with his fingers, while Xio Voe talked with Tano and Bade about cake construction. Between Remin’s sensual fork play and the way Kudorin licked frosting from his fingers, Bade was sort of distracted throughout most of the conversation, but he managed to learn a lot about the art of cake decorating, anyway. Saying his last good night, Tano smiled as Prince Remin pulled him into the courtyard. While Prince Remin hugged him, he let the door fall shut, rubbing his face against the soft thickness of Prince Remin’s hair. “I think that they liked it.” “Mmm.” Prince Remin kissed his jaw, biting him gently, stepping backwards and leading him across the grass. “Such good cake. You make the best cake.” He should stop distracting Prince Remin so that they could navigate their way through the courtyard safely, but they were kissing now, Prince Remin nibbling at

his lips. He was glad that everyone had liked the cake, was flattered that they’d all stopped in to have a piece and talk. Happily, he was starting to sense that Prince Remin’s family would seize upon any excuse to be in the same room together. Prince Remin was threading neatly between flowerbeds, murmuring something against his lips about “the gods guide my feet.” He liked that Prince Remin prayed and talked to the gods even while they were making out; he also liked the way Prince Remin’s hands were unbuttoning his vest. He dropped it on the grass but was a little too busy to stop to pick it up. He’d have to remember to come back for it later. Prince Remin’s shirt was left behind on a bush; they were starting to leave a trail of clothing. As he unbuttoned Prince Remin’s fly, they stumbled into the apartment, and he was pretty sure that Prince Remin’s hands had been on his body, not fumbling back for a doorknob. Taking over, Tano steered, dragging Prince Remin to the bedroom. Flopping back across the bed, he pulled Prince Remin down over himself. When Prince Remin stopped kissing him to look up, he threaded his fingers through silky, golden hair and licked at the smooth column of Prince Remin’s neck. “Tano. Tano.” Prince Remin tapped at his chin, tipping his face back. “Do you see a door there?” Wriggling a little, Tano twisted around to see. Door. “There’s a door there.” He felt really stupid, because he’d been in Prince Remin’s room a lot lately, and he’d never noticed that door before. Then again, Prince Remin seemed to be noticing it for the first time, too. “Maybe this is just my ignorance, but was there a door there before?” “No. No, there wasn’t.” Crawling off of him, Prince Remin got up. “Everything else is still in place. There’s still the same space between this chest and the corner. Flowerpot, chair, door.” He was right; nothing had moved, yet there was somehow enough space for a door where there had never been a door before. “Someone’s been playing with physics.” Making the sign to the gods, Tano got up from the bed. “Can you open it?” This had to be Anosukinom’s miracle. Prince Remin could open doors, but only the gods could create them. Well, the gods and carpenters, but even a really skilled carpenter couldn’t - - even Prince Anosanim couldn’t - - build a door into a wall in one evening without being noticed, especially not while also elongating an existing wall also in that same evening and also without being noticed. That took a lot of talent that probably wasn’t taught in a basic door-building class. Grasping the doorknob, Prince Remin pulled the door open.

It was a room. A closet. A closet in a room. It looked like Prince Remin’s closet, in that it was a wide room with walls covered in racks of clothing, but the clothes weren’t just gold. They were red and gold, blue and gold, green and gold. A rack of shoes held some very familiar shoes. Shoes Tano recognized. His shoes, the ones Anosukinom had bought for him. This couldn’t be real. “Are these mine?” Tano asked, stepping behind Prince Remin into the room. “Kudorin built you a closet.” Prince Remin sounded approving. “Very convenient. Anoha Anosukinom,” he said, making the sign to the gods. “Oh, can you try that on for me?” “Anoha Anosukinom,” Tano murmured, feeling dazed. This was too much. Far, far too many articles of clothing, for one thing. He only had one body to cover. But a closet? A room? Anosukinom had just created a space in the royal palace for him. Had just rearranged the royal palace to fit in a corner for his clothing. Sagging against the doorjamb, he mumbled a prayer, thanking Anosukinom for his generosity. Where had all of these clothes come from? They’d bought a lot, he knew that, but seeing it all in one place like this had him reeling. He recognized almost all of it, too, remembered trying it on, remembered Prince Anosanim’s opinions. He couldn’t believe that all of this could possibly be his. He shuddered to think how much of Anosukinom’s money he’d spent. Still, there were some items he didn’t recall seeing before, like the shiny, gold leather harness Prince Remin was holding up. He was sure that he’d remember trying that on. Prince Remin looked at the harness. Tano wondered if they could risk it. If Prince Remin could handle it. If he should find a way to distract Prince Remin’s attention. If it were at all possible to distract Prince Remin’s attention. Prince Remin looked at him. Oh, no. Prince Remin grinned. Oh, yes. “Ah, ah, oh.” The rich sounds of Tano’s ecstasy spurred Remin onward and he thrust aggressively, trying to bore his way through the pillow to get to Tano, to fuck Tano, to satisfy Tano’s desire. “Oh, gods above, Prince Remin, Prince Remin, yes!

Ah!” Yanking on Remin’s hips as if he could pull Remin right through the pillow, Tano groaned in happy bliss. The tension of need faded from his face as his body relaxed, and he moaned, opening his eyes. With a lazy, goofy smile, he nudged Remin up. Remin didn’t want to move away from the pillow, he wanted to fuck the pillow until he’d burned a hole right through it, but Tano pushed his hips upward and tossed the pillow aside. “Mmm, here, come on me.” The words had barely registered before Remin’s dick was in his hand and he was jacking himself, making breathy grunting sounds in his excitement. Tano’s handsome body was clad in only gold-and-white plaid shorts and a gold leather harness. The harness was snug on his muscular torso, showing off his athletic build, and Remin’s free hand reached for it, fingers curling around a strap, thumb rubbing across the smooth, supple leather. It had been such a long time since he’d touched a man dressed like this. Since he’d felt someone else’s harness against his skin. He gave a sudden pull and Tano was lifted from the bed, back arched. Yes, yes, he wanted to jerk Tano around and pull Tano to his dick. Pushing Tano back down, Remin leaned in, rubbing his face against Tano’s chest, feeling the straps against his face. Inhaling the scent of leather, the scent of musk, he licked Tano’s harness, following a line across Tano’s chest. “Nnn, yes.” Tano’s fingers curled in his hair as Tano twisted and undulated beneath him. Licking along the leather, kissing his way up to Tano’s shoulder, he closed his eyes, pretending that it wasn’t just a chest harness, pretending that it extended farther down, that the straps disappeared beneath Tano’s shorts, that a strip of gold leather was neatly tucked in the cleft of Tano’s ass, that, yes, yes, unh, oh. Groaning, Remin came, gasping against Tano’s neck, a last jolt of pleasure slamming through him. Tano’s appreciative moans hummed in his ears as he bit the leather, sinking his teeth into the harness. Cupping a hand over his dick as he fought the urge to rub himself against Tano’s sexy, always willing body, he slid downward, licking leather and skin until he tasted cum. Running two fingers through a sticky splatter on Tano’s stomach, he sat up, pushing his fingers into Tano’s mouth. Immediately moaning, Tano sucked hard on Remin’s fingers, licking up the slickness of Remin’s cum. All this, and cake, too? Remin was in paradise.

Part 280

Everyone was so nice! People sought Tano out, congratulating him on his engagement, telling him that they’d pray for him. The other servants were especially thoughtful and very polite. It was really kind of everyone to wish him well, and it was a reminder of how important the role of Prince Remin’s husband was. He was glad that Ilanosa had blessed their engagement, because he didn’t know how people ever got married in other cultures where they didn’t get direct permission from the gods. Without Ilanosa’s blessing, how would he be confident that he’d be a good husband for any particular person? Oh, sure, he might think that he was a good fit, but he’d also thought that he could add apples and cheese to a burakoni salad, and look how that had turned out! If he couldn’t be trusted with salad, how could he be trusted with marriage? He’d even thought that he couldn’t cook and have sex at the same time. When he’d met Prince Remin, he’d been a complete mess. How could he ever have been sure that he’d be a decent husband to Prince Remin, just on a private level, much less a suitable husband under the pressure of public scrutiny? Marrying Prince Remin wasn’t something he could just keep between himself and Prince Remin. It also meant being a part of Prince Remin’s family. It also meant being a public figure, and there were a lot of people interested in Prince Remin’s welfare who would be pretty upset with him if he failed to be a good husband. Tano was confident about it, but he also had Ilanosa’s blessing. Without that, he’d probably pick himself apart with his own doubts. Marriage to Prince Remin was way, way too important to screw up. Burakoni salad wasn’t going to ruin anyone’s happiness, but a bad marriage could ruin Prince Remin’s happiness, and the happiness of Prince Remin’s family, and the happiness of Prince Remin’s country. No Anorian that Tano knew would ever be content knowing that Prince Remin was miserable. The weight of an entire country’s well-being was a lot of pressure! How did people do it in other cultures? Who could stand in front of a crowd of staring onlookers and commit to marriage with confidence, without being sure? How was anyone ever sure? Maybe they just addressed it like any other decision. Do I want to cut my hair or let it grow? Do I want to pick those tomatoes or let them ripen? Do I want to wear the blue skirt or the green one? Do I want to agree to marry the royal high priest or turn him down? But, no, a bad haircut or an overripe tomato or an unattractive outfit was not the same as marriage to the most influential religious leader in the world. Although, having lived in Ilaeia, Tano knew that there were places in the world where a bad haircut or unattractive outfit could bring disaster. Wow, did those people care how they looked. As the well-wishers continued to stop by the kitchen, Tano noticed that people who’d used to call him Tano now called him Chef Pitok and wouldn’t be persuaded

to switch back. According to the palace hierarchy, it was technically correct for them to call him Chef Pitok, but Tano was younger than head chefs usually were, and wasn’t really the kind of person who stuck to formalities, so most servants who’d spoken to him at all before had ended up calling him Tano, usually at his request. And servants who hadn’t really spoken with him had still heard other people mention him, so they usually called him Tano, too. But now everyone kept saying “Chef Pitok,” “Chef Pitok,” and they said it in a very deferential tone, and they bowed to him as if he were someone important. He didn’t like it. He sort of abstractly understood why they were doing it, but he didn’t like it, and he wished that they’d speak to him as if he were just Tano, just some cook, just another servant. He had been just another servant, at first, even when he’d been given an authoritative position and a fancy apartment. Even when he’d been friends with Prince Remin, and everyone had gossiped about him, he’d still just been Tano. But now he was engaged, and everyone saw him as Prince Remin’s husband, and he wasn’t just Tano anymore. Wasn’t just a palace chef anymore. He was part of the royal family now. He’d never be just Tano again. Only a few people treated him mostly the same way as they had before. Lo Ariside, for example, was just as brisk and efficient and professional as always. She’d never flattered him before, and she showed no signs of doing so now. Sulano tried to be more deferential at first, but when Tano asked him not to, he dropped it. One of the biggest changes was from Chef Heres. He and Chef Ramatek came into Tano’s kitchen to offer their congratulations. Tano chatted with them for a moment, trying to establish some sort of professional relationship with them, but that didn’t go very well. “You’ll be too busy to take a hand in training your replacement, I suppose,” Chef Heres said. “Seeing to your duties as a husband, going shopping, that sort of thing.” Tano tried to see the best in people, but he wasn’t stupid. Right, yes, he’d gone shopping with the royal family, and everyone knew about it, because Anosukinom flitting around town performing minor miracles was the kind of thing that attracted attention. One shopping expedition was not evidence that he had daily spending sprees which would keep him from doing his job. He’d also gone out to lunch that day; did Chef Heres also think that he was so preoccupied in going out to eat that he’d be too busy gorging himself on Leetesrian food to cook for King Xio Voe? He’d also gone to the bathroom a few times that day; maybe he was a habitual urinator, addicted to relieving himself, incapable of cooking a meal due to his horrible affliction of being a human being who sometimes needed to pee.

And all of that aside, training his replacement? “I wasn’t aware that I was being replaced. That seems like the sort of thing King Xio Voe would tell me before he’d mention it to you,” Tano said brightly, keeping his voice friendly and chatty. He wanted to be rude, but he knew that there was nothing to be gained from developing an antagonistic relationship with someone he had to work beside. Which seemed to be a lesson Chef Heres had never learned. That, and knife skills. “Oh, well, I assumed,” Chef Heres said with a nasty smile that was probably supposed to be, what, flattering? Friendly? Human? “You will want to devote yourself to Prince Anoremin, won’t you?” So what was that, an insinuation that he wasn’t? Was he supposed to fling himself into self-doubt, question his commitment to Prince Remin, and abandon the kitchen based on a passing comment from someone who had no inside knowledge of their relationship? “I’m very devoted to Prince Remin.” And he was just going to leave that sentence right there, as a fact, without any explanation whatsoever. If there was anyone to whom he needed to explain his relationship with Prince Remin to less than Chef Heres, it was Koso’s mother’s pet chickens. Although, if they were well-behaved chickens, he might be willing to discuss it. “Maybe if something else changes in my life, if something else comes up, I’ll reevaluate how I spend my time. But I’m very happy cooking for King Xio Voe and Prince Remin, and they’ve seemed happy with my work.” They didn’t express that happiness in similar ways, but if they had, that would’ve been incredibly inappropriate. In both directions, actually. Tano didn’t want King Xio Voe to thank him for lunch by making out with him, stripping naked, and coming on him. And he didn’t want to marry someone who thanked him for lunch by periodically sending a secretary’s note to say, basically, “Not bad, you didn’t screw it up this time.” “Of course you are.” Chef Heres smirked at him in a way that made Tano want to recoil. “But once you’re married, do you really think that it’ll be appropriate for you to continue working? Among the servants?” What was that supposed to mean? “What’s wrong with the servants?” Tano had to change the conversation quickly before he said something he’d regret. “Actually, I will be training a few people. I love teaching other people what I know, the techniques I’ve learned, and King Xio Voe wants more chefs to be educated in Jacacean cuisine, so I’m going to try teaching a few people some Jacacean methods.” That bought him a few minutes of pleasant conversation; he and Chef Ramatek chatted about Jacacean techniques and about teaching, about who might be a

good candidate and about where they might find work afterward. Lo Ariside joined in, and things went well. Then Chef Heres cleared his throat and said that he and Chef Ramatek had to get back to work; he managed to do so in a way which suggested that Tano stood around all day wasting time. Chef Ramatek looked embarrassed; Lo Ariside looked pissed off. As Chef Heres turned to go, Tano was relieved and hoped that they didn’t have occasion to speak to each other for a long, quiet time to come. Then Chef Heres said, “Oh, and be sure to let us know what you’d like us to cook for your wedding day. We always like to tailor the dishes to the grooms’ tastes.” Tano wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “Wedding day?” He tried to sound friendly and intrigued, not irritated and resentful. He mainly ended up just sounding annoyingly high-pitched, as if someone had unexpectedly stuck him with a needle partway through. Another smirk. Tano had no idea what that expression was intended to convey. “Chef Ramatek and I work with the wedding planners to coordinate the menu and organize the staff for the royal weddings.” Oh, so he was the one who’d served that trash for King Xio Voe’s wedding? “We met with the wedding planner yesterday. I think that I’ll be in charge of the menu.” Eek! That was a nasty expression. Tano wished him good luck in explaining how that one was in any way meant to be friendly or semi-professional. “Surely you’ll be too busy with the wedding preparations. We’ll be happy to take the responsibility. With your advisement, of course.” “No.” Tano tried to stay sunny and breezy. Not contemptuous. Sunny and breezy. Like a happy day on the river. Capsizing Chef Heres’s boat. “It’ll be fun, I’m excited about planning the menu. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, I have some great ideas. I was going to get some people together for a planning meeting, and you’re welcome to come. We’ll have to feed a lot of people, so the more help, the better!” “Are you confident about your ability to pull that off?” Chef Heres shook his head. “You’re awfully inexperienced for such an important responsibility. Cooking for your boyfriend is vastly different from an international event like this.” Sunny. And. Breezy. Sunny. And. Breezy. Tano just had to unclench his teeth and punch Chef Heres in the face first. “International event, yes, Chef Pitok’s professional experience abroad working for an international audience will serve him well,” Lo Ariside said. “I’d say that anyone capable of meeting King Xio Voe’s infamously exacting standards day in and day out is up to the challenge. And those of us with more experience cooking for such large crowds - - Chef Pitok’s festival experiences notwithstanding - - will be happy

to advise him, I’m sure. Chef Akeno and Chef Kanase and I are eager to be of service to Chef Pitok. Prince Remin’s wedding is an occasion for all of us to pitch in where we can. And you’re correct, we do have to get back to work. So good to speak with you both, so kind of you to offer your good wishes. Koso, have you finished washing the fruit?” Lo Ariside steered the chefs out, closed the pantry door, and got back to work. Tano watched her scold Koso for peeling the apples so badly. “May I hug you?” “No, thank you,” Lo Ariside said, taking a bowl of apples to her work station. “He’ll never take you seriously. He’ll see you as young, flighty, and doing nothing more than ‘cooking for your boyfriend’ for the rest of your career. Don’t waste your time trying to change his mind.” She looked at him sharply. “And don’t waste your time wondering if he’s right.” Now Tano really wanted to hug her. “That’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Grunting, she halved an apple. “You can reward me by keeping me in your kitchen and out of his.” Wondering, Tano made his way over to his own station. “Why don’t you have your own kitchen?” “I planned to, at first. I still might.” She shrugged, slicing efficiently. “I’d rather work for the Seven Siblings than anywhere else. That’s more important to me than being in charge. And I’ve found that a solid assistant is invaluable. A strong leader needs a strong assistant. A weak leader needs a strong assistant even more.” She paused to instruct Koso, then said, “If I get my own kitchen, I’ll make the most of it. If I don’t, I spent my years working for the Seven Siblings, keeping them and their guests happily fed. I wouldn’t have wanted any other kind of life.” Almost every evening, Remin took Tano out to plays, operas, museums. To the symphony with Anosanim. To a new restaurant with Rini. It enabled him to spend time with Tano while still keeping busy. Active, distracted, and in public, it was easier to stick to fond, affectionate touching, so he still got the physical attention he needed without pushing boundaries. When it was just the two of them alone all night, he started to get aggressive and restless and demanding. When they broke up their time together with other activities, it was easier for him to contain himself. He enjoyed taking Tano out, anyway. They had a lot of fun together, they enjoyed each other’s company no matter what they did, it gave them a lot to talk over, later, and usually Tano picked up someone to take home with them.

Remin loved watching Tano pick up guys. Loved seeing Tano be flirtatious and assertive. He was proud of Tano’s sexual confidence, and it turned him on to see guys respond. He knew just how they felt. One evening, instead of going out, they stayed home for a ball Kudorin was hosting in the palace. Anosanim fluttered around Tano all afternoon, and was so busy preparing Tano for the ball that it actually looked like he wouldn’t notice what the rest of them were up to. Desin joked that they should all wear burlap sacks to the ball and see how long it took Anosanim to pick up on it. Then, at the last minute, Anosanim looked at Remin, took on an aggrieved expression, and asked Talin to do Remin’s make-up. Apparently, Remin wasn’t up to the standards of Anosanim’s precious new charge. Talin’s approach to Remin’s make-up was very different from Anosanim’s. Much quieter, for one thing. Talin was as quiet and expressionless as if Remin were a canvas and not a human being. He also wasn’t as delicate; Anosanim was more gentle about tapping Remin’s face into position. Talin just pushed and pinched and pulled Remin’s facial features however he wanted them. He did bother to say, “Open,” or “Close,” once in a while, although he didn’t say much more than that, and Remin didn’t pay very close attention, so sometimes he meant eyes when Remin assumed that he meant lips. Talin’s methods aside, Remin looked amazing when he was finished. Staring at himself in the mirror, Remin blinked, tilting his face, examining his reflection at length. He’d always been a very good-looking guy, he knew that, but, shit. He looked beautiful. Surprised, turning his head to scrutinize himself from more angles, he thanked Talin. With a non-committal grunt, Talin tucked away his make-up. Tano thought that he looked fantastic, too, and Remin enjoyed what Anosanim had done to Tano in return. The snug white shirt showed off Tano’s muscular build, the white pants showed off Tano’s round ass, and the gold leather straps crisscrossing Tano’s back and lining Tano’s thighs gave Remin good places to grip and tug. Tano’s thick, black hair had been artfully tousled, less like its usual tidy, smooth appearance and more like Remin had been making out with him for the past hour. The sensuality of Tano’s pink, glossy lips was too enticing, and Anosanim scolded them both for ruining their make-up once he pried them apart. Talin refused to do Remin’s lipstick again, claiming that he’d just smear it across Tano right away, but Anosanim made them sit down and applied it again, ordering them to promise to leave it intact at least until the ball started. Nuzzling against Tano and not quite kissing turned Remin on; the erotic torment of touching each other and whispering to each other without actually making out was

so arousing that they got off together and were almost late to the ball trying to scrub cum off of Remin’s pants. An event with so many foreign guests had been, before Tano, before dating, one of Remin’s primary sources of sexual fodder. Remembering some of his more elaborate fantasies, he waited until the latest cluster of well-wishers had moved on and then whispered in Tano’s ear, “Do you see the man in red and green standing near Selorin? With the mustache?” Since he was so close to Tano’s ear, he nuzzled it for a moment, licking. Tano’s arm was already around his waist; Tano’s hand squeezed his hip, rubbing, maybe to reward him for the attention, maybe to encourage more of it, maybe to soothe him into stopping. Tano touched him for all sorts of reasons, and he was still figuring out which touch meant what. “He’s good-looking.” Tano sounded intrigued. “I like the way he maintains eye contact. Who is he?” Remin chuckled, pleased. “Lord Santoresh. I met him during the second year of my reign. I used to fantasize that he was watching me from a shadowy corner, that he wanted me to undress and perform for him. It made masturbating more fun when I imagined that he was just staring and staring and staring at me, getting off on looking.” “Oh, nice.” Tano’s attention was off of Santoresh and entirely on Remin now, Tano’s expression knowing and intrigued. “Did you perform specific acts with him in mind? Did you fantasize that he liked certain things? Or did you do whichever things you liked, and let him enjoy it?” He’d told Tano weeks and weeks ago that he’d gotten off to fantasies of foreigners, but when he’d initially brought it up he hadn’t been ready to go into detail. He liked that Tano was interested; it was flattering that Tano wanted to know more about his fantasies. It turned him on, the idea of sharing something so intimate with Tano. “I decided that he liked to watch penetration, but he wanted it to be quick, so I teased him by taking it slow. Picking up a dildo but just teasing myself with it, flirting around with the oil, making him wait for it.” “I’d love to see that.” Tano’s voice was hushed, private, filled with desire. He was leaning closer and closer, and Remin didn’t want to stop him. “Which dildos did you use?” Remin loved having a partner who wanted to know his toys as familiarly as he did. “The pink one with the ridges on it, and the big gray one, mostly.” Tano licked his lips, his gaze flickering from Remin’s eyes to Remin’s mouth and back again. “Can you show me, sometime? How you,” his voice wavered, “teased yourself with the big, gray dildo?”

“Yes.” Remin wanted to show him. To share the fantasy with him. Leaning in, Remin“So, hey, how’s it going?” Desin clapped Tano heartily on the back. “Having a good time?” Recovering quickly, Tano took a deep breath and stepped back from Remin a little, smiling at Desin. “Yes, Prince Desin, I’m very glad to be here. The music is terrific. Your brothers have been very kind in introducing me to everyone. Anoha Matanori, you don’t bring Norisa to formal events?” While Tano talked to Desin, Remin sought an interruption. Desin had stepped in to break up the moment, but Remin didn’t want to disrupt the moment. He liked having Tano aroused and interested and asking for more. Desin probably thought that he couldn’t handle it, but he wanted to try. Maybe he’d go too far and start making out with Tano in front of the crowd; maybe he’d embarrass everyone by trying to mount Tano before the assembled foreign nobility. But he hadn’t played with someone in public in a long time, and Tano was great, great fun to play with. “Where’s Sebado?” “Eh, he doesn’t come to stuff like this. He’s picking up someone at a pub, and I’m going to pick up someone here, and we’re going to meet back up to swap when this thing’s over.” Partner-swapping. Remin remembered long debates with his friends where they’d discussed swapping versus sharing. He’d have to ask for Tano’s opinion. “While you’re considering your options, I’d recommend the young earl wearing purple furs. I haven’t seen him in years, but if I remember correctly” - - and he did, Remin’s sexual recollection was near-perfect - - “he enjoys authoritative, aggressive men and mild taunting. He loses all of his inhibitions if you say the right things.” Desin grinned, eyeing the earl. “Which are?” Laughing, Remin nudged him away. “Part of the fun is figuring that out for yourself.” Chuckling, Desin strolled in the earl’s direction. Remin was about to get back to flirting with Tano, but one of his cousins brought over another small knot if people determined to congratulate him on his engagement. Politely, he minded his manners and said all of the right things, introducing Tano and accepting their kind words. Eventually, they faded away, and he dragged Tano to a quieter corner. Talin was the relative in closest proximity, and Talin was, he trusted, not inclined to march people over for congratulations.

Despite Remin’s efforts, he and Tano were interrupted repeatedly. But during quiet moments to themselves, he unspooled all of his favorite fantasies, telling Tano about the private, imaginary sex life he’d enjoyed with foreign guests. Being interrupted started to get exciting; he’d whisper lewd, explicit fantasies and detailed sex acts into Tano’s ears, and then see which one of them could act the most normal when guests approached. See which one of them could drag out the public conversation the longest before finding some excuse to draw away and fall back into the obscene world of Remin’s fantasies. Remin started to spin new fantasies about their current guests, musing aloud on what he might like to do with a certain prime minister, speculating on how he and Tano together might enjoy a certain baron. He’d go on at length, taking Tano through the scene, the flirtation, the foreplay, a series of erotic acts, a powerful climax. And then, once he and Tano both were fighting for self-control and burning with lust, he’d walk Tano over and snag an introduction, lingering over the handshake, trying to remain wellmannered and polite while sizing up his prey. As they stumbled away from the baron, Tano whispered, “Gods above, you’re right, he really would rim me for hours. Can we invite him to partner with us?” “Not him, but I do have a few candidates in mind.” Remin had been eyeing the crowd all evening, looking for a gift for Tano. “What are you in the mood for?” “You,” Tano said immediately, about an inch away from kissing him, watching his mouth, breathing too shallowly, wonderfully hard against his thigh. “Sex. Anything, I don’t care.” Then, with a startled look, Tano stepped away from him, wide-eyed and vaguely guilty looking. Remin knew what that meant. Turning, he looked up at Xio Voe and bowed. Tano was barely touching him anymore, just a hand on his back, and that was not enough. He moved back a step, and Tano’s arm curled around his waist again; he leaned into Tano’s side. Better. Xio Voe regarded them through frosty blue eyes. “Typically, the trajectory of a relationship includes a phase of giddiness, during which the newly formed couple engages in frivolously self-indulgent behavior. This behavior is occasionally disruptive and flouts social conventions. An example of this foolishness might include staggering about a formal social event whispering, giggling, encouraging each other to frequent sexual arousal, and neglecting the usual social responsibilities in favor of each other’s company.” Tano looked thoroughly chastised. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he murmured, bowing, glancing about hurriedly as if worried that everyone might be glaring at him in censure, then bowing again. “I apologize, I’ll be more respectful, I-”

“This is, as you said, a social event,” Remin said. “Not a political one. Your guests and drinking and dancing, not signing treaties or drafting trade agreements. Flirting is a regular part of social discourse.” Xio Voe’s left eyebrow twitched. “I did not intend to arouse your defenses. A mere recitation of facts was not designed to insult you.” Remin had long suspected that only Kudorin could read Xio Voe accurately one hundred percent of the time. Backing down, Remin asked mildly, “What did you intend?” “I approached to suggest that you excuse yourself and retire to your private quarters. Others remain to fulfill your social obligations adequately.” Remin remembered Anikira doing this to him during the year she’d been queen before he’d become the royal high priest. In her case, it had often been a brief, passing whisper of, “Get out of here and take those boys with you, you’re scandalizing the president,” or something similar. At which he’d laugh and invite whoever he was flirting with back to his quarters. Xio Voe’s approach was more formal but basically the same, and it amused him that Xio Voe would take it upon himself to police the ball as Anikira had. Xio Voe took his duties as king and host seriously, and it was a sign of his love for Kudorin that he would make the effort. Tano tried to protest, apologizing and promising to behave more appropriately. Remin felt a pang of conscience at that; he hadn’t meant to make Tano feel uncomfortable. There were untold numbers of witnesses who could testify to Remin’s propriety; over the past few years, his public behavior at similar events had been impeccable. But this was a new opportunity for Tano, and Remin should have been more considerate. “We’ll spend another hour or so,” Remin told Xio Voe. “And then we’ll make a discreet exit.” Remin was used to avoiding the actual dances at balls; he hadn’t danced with men in years, and he’d met too many overly assertive women. But this was Tano’s first ball, and Remin’s issues with self-control shouldn’t prevent Tano from enjoying it. “If you’d be so kind, Tano hasn’t graced the dance floor yet.” Tano gave Remin a startled, disbelieving look; Xio Voe gave Tano a narrow, assessing look. Xio Voe always seemed to be making mental calculations. “Chef Naritano Pitok, may I escort you to the dance floor?” Looking both thrilled and mildly panicked, Tano turned pale but grinned broadly, bowing. “Yes, Your Majesty, thank you, it would truly be an honor.” Watching Xio Voe and Tano walk towards the swirling dancers, Remin smiled, following a few steps behind. He was eager to see Tano dance.

Tano didn’t know how to dance, but that didn’t seem to matter. King Xio Voe was so confident, so masterful, that Tano spun around the dance floor like an extension of the music. If he obeyed King Xio Voe’s touch and mimicked King Xio Voe’s movements, he didn’t have to know what he was doing; he just had to trust and obey. King Xio Voe seemed to be as skilled a dancer as everything else, leading Tano along efficiently. They didn’t talk about much, but Tano didn’t mind that; it was nice to enjoy the movement and let the music sweep them along. He’d never heard an orchestra like this. The wonderful fullness of sound resonated in his heart. Prince Remin had taken him to the opera, to the symphony, but there was something about the way the sound filled the ballroom that brought a new meaning and vibrancy to the music. When King Xio Voe circled him back to Prince Remin, he felt so exhilarated that he really would’ve hugged King Xio Voe, if he’d dared. Prince Remin hugged him, and he told Prince Remin how much fun it had been. He didn’t ask Prince Remin to dance with him; he knew that Prince Remin didn’t trust the situation, and he knew that they’d dance together another day. Prince Rini came to dance with him, to a quick, spinning, breathless song, and then Prince Selorin, to a repetitive, seductive beat, and then Prince Bade, in a slow, formal dance. Prince Rini chatted at him the whole time, laughing and telling him about the guests; Prince Selorin murmured suggestive, flirtatious things and felt him up a little; Tano and Prince Bade talked throughout their dance and the next one about dance styles and different kinds of music and various dance instructors and all sorts of other things. Then other people danced with him, some of Prince Remin’s cousins, some of Anosukinom’s guests. It was fun, and the music kept changing, and he was starting to pick up some of the steps, and everyone was so friendly, and he loved the dramatic swelling of sound, the busy movement, the bright swirl of color as everyone strutted and spun. Prince Orinakin danced with him; the silk of Prince Orinakin’s hair, the smoothness of Prince Orinakin’s skin, the way Prince Orinakin could open his heart with a simple smile, it all reminded him of Prince Remin. He loved the way Prince Orinakin looked right into his eyes and seemed to understand all of him at once. The warm, intimate tones of Prince Orinakin’s voice were enchanting. As soon as Prince Orinakin left him, he found Prince Remin, and they hugged, and he whispered, “I love you so much,” and Prince Remin held him tightly and whispered, “Come, Tano, come with me.” They went directly to Prince Remin’s quarters, and as soon as the door closed, he was in Prince Remin’s arms. They were kissing, and they were spinning, and there was music, he heard music, the same rich swelling of sound he’d just heard in the ballroom. They were dancing, and kissing, holding each other, Tano’s feet following Prince Remin’s in now-familiar dance steps. Dancing with Prince Remin,

he was dancing with Prince Remin, the music slowing, Prince Remin’s hands guiding his body in ways no one else’s had that night. He was aroused, their feet falling still, the rhythm in his hips now, his undulations matching the beat of the orchestra, Prince Remin’s breath in his ear, Prince Remin’s body naked under his hands. “I loved watching you.” Prince Remin’s voice was a whisper, a curl of smoke, a rustle of silk. “You looked so happy.” “I was, I am.” He was happy, so happy that he felt as if he’d always be happy, as if this were a permanent state now. And it was, of course it was, how could it not be, how could he not be happy? “I love you,” he rubbed his face against Prince Remin’s cheek, “I love you so much,” he slid his hands up the sleek muscle of Prince Remin’s back, “I’ll love you more and more, every day, forever.” “I know,” Prince Remin whispered, “I love you,” kissing him, “gods above,” tasting him, “forever.” And the music continued until the rhythm was drowned out by the pounding of love and desire in Tano’s heart. As the last notes faded, Remin tightened his embrace. He loved Tano, and he was grateful to have Tano in his life. He hadn’t needed to dread the ball, hadn’t guarded his every word and gesture, hadn’t left the ball in frustration to the empty solace of his own right hand. He’d had fun, he’d been able to share a fun evening with someone he loved, and he’d ended up satisfied, happy, in the company of someone who brought him contentment he hadn’t known for years. Giving Tano one last kiss, he stepped back to suggest that they“Oh,” Tano said suddenly, stooping to pick up his shirt from the floor. “I almost forgot, I have to go talk to - - I’ll be right back, it’ll be just a moment.” Leaving a swift kiss on Remin’s lips, he jogged out of Remin’s quarters. Perplexed, Remin tried to guess where he might have gone, or whom he might need to speak with so urgently. Stopping by the bathroom, Remin washed up and went to bed, lounging comfortably between the sheets. Lightly stroking his own body, Remin mused over the ball, and Tano, and his trusty fantasies, and what he knew of Tano’s fantasies. He was cheerfully aroused, enjoying the luxury of knowing that Tano would be back soon, when he heard a light rapping at his door. It wasn’t a knock he recognized. Which meant that it was a servant or one of the guards. Reaching out to the gods in concern, he received no response. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a dressing gown and went to the door. It was Tano. He’d changed into a green and white outfit, Ilaeian tailoring. His hair was smoothed down and he had one hand on his hip and he was looking at Remin

with an amused, expectant expression. “Prince Anoremin.” He smirked, licking his lips in a sexy, satisfied way that Remin immediately wanted so much more of. “Why do you run from the ballroom so quickly? You promised me a show.” He was speaking with a heavy Ilaeian accent. He’d dressed in Ilaeian clothes. He wanted a show. Yes, yes, yes. Remin hadn’t role-played in years, he’d missed it so much, and now his handsome, perfect Tano was bringing his fantasy to life. So turned on he had to reach down and adjust his robe to make sure that nothing was poking through, Remin gave Tano a slickly flirtatious smile and took a step back. “I was just beginning to prepare myself for you. Please, come in.” As Tano entered his apartment, he took an admiring look at Tano’s ass, then closed the door. “The bedroom’s right through there, if you’ll make yourself comfortable.” “You’ll keep me waiting?” Tano slowly assessed him, Tano’s gaze dragging along his body like a caress, Tano’s smug smirk so insinuating Remin felt as if they’d already fucked. “It will be worth it,” Tano decided, murmuring the words with a slow lick and turning to saunter into the bedroom. Gods above, Remin had never seen Tano like this, and he needed so much more of it. Turned on and eagerly anticipating more, Remin was happier than ever to be with Tano, happy that Tano was giving him this, happy that Tano was the kind of man who would think of this and act on it and enjoy it, happy that a fantasy was unfolding before his eyes, happy that he was about to get to play. He hurried, not wanting to make Tano wait, eager to get back to the man who looked at him so obscenely. With Tano in the bedroom, Remin’s choices of attire were limited to things he kept in other areas of his apartment, but Remin’s rooms were well-stocked. Immediately, he knew what he wanted to wear, and he dug it out from the bottom of a trunk. The slim leather belt buckled easily around his waist. From the belt hung thin gold chains leading to leather straps he buckled around each thigh. Matching gold chains circled his wrists and ankles. Simple, just enough to be decorative, just enough to demonstrate that he’d made an effort. He checked his make-up, glad to see Talin’s handiwork still so intact, applying fresh lipstick. Snatching up a couple of toys, he hurried to the bedroom, his erection leading the way. Tano had dragged a grand, plush armchair near the bed, by the foot but just off to one side. He sat there relaxed, waiting, leaning back with his arms draped over the armrests. He was shirtless, his pants unbuttoned, the bulge of his dick visible through the softness of his gray underpants. He looked confident, composed, ready to be serviced, and Remin wanted to go to him, to kneel before his chair and tend to his every desire.

As before, Tano’s gaze raked over his body in a lingering, possessive, suggestive fashion, and Tano’s lips curled into a sexual smirk. “You are a beautiful man,” Tano said in a thick Ilaeian accent. “Perhaps I will commission a portrait of you from my very best artists.” He licked his lips the way Remin wanted to lick his dick. “If I like what I see.” Oh, an Ilaeian patron. A discerning audience, expecting to be entertained, able to appreciate the art of Remin’s seduction. His skin prickling with anticipation, Remin stepped to the foot of the bed, moving forward as if about to crawl onto the bed; he paused there for a moment, posed with one knee up, hands forward, back arched, ass up, and tossed his head, shooting Tano a look over one shoulder. “Your best artist could never capture me. But you’re going to love everything you see tonight.” Gods above, Prince Remin was a fantastically sexual man. Every move, every roll of his hips, every flick of his fingers, every sinuous twist, was breathtakingly erotic. He was surrounded by pornography, in rooms decorated with artwork celebrating sex, yet none of that compared. Watching him awakened a hundred fantasies in Tano’s mind, a hundred new desires, and Tano moaned at the striking sensuality of each movement. There was a raw simplicity to Prince Remin’s performance which reminded Tano how basic and primal the urge for pleasure was. And there was a natural artistry to it, a grace and rhythm which were an innate element of Prince Remin’s sexuality. It was an uncomplicated performance about passion and desire, about beauty and joy, about the heights of ecstasy one man could reach. Prince Remin lingered over his own body, savored his own pleasure, lavished attention upon himself. Explored his own desires, tested his own limits, while still flirting with Tano, teasing Tano, showing off for Tano’s pleasure. He was stimulating himself but he was doing it all for Tano, and he made Tano feel like a part of his pleasure, made Tano feel flattered and desired and powerful, even when he wasn’t making eye contact. If Prince Remin hadn’t been so adept at the nuances of performance, Tano would’ve been climbing across the bed to fuck him. But Prince Remin was so skilled at making Tano feel included, that Tano felt like a part of the act, felt involved, had a role to fulfill. This was all for him, all to please him, and Prince Remin wanted him to watch, wanted him to enjoy. He struggled to stay in character, but he did remain in his chair, staring, panting and groaning and completely under Prince Remin’s thrall. Prince Remin had a large bed, and he made full use of the space. He did some things up towards the head of the bed, farther from Tano, teasing, taunting, denying. He did some things closer to the foot of the bed, closer to Tano’s corner,

flaunting, offering, giving himself to Tano. He did some things all over the bed, rolling, gyrating, flexing, writhing. He caressed his body with both hands, tweaking, massaging, scratching, stroking. His sinuous undulations, the beckoning twitches of his hips, elegant explorations of his clever fingers, kept Tano enthralled, wondering what he might do next, knowing, anticipating, wanting. Tano worked his hand down inside his underwear, gripping himself. Wishing that he were gripping Prince Remin. Wishing that Prince Remin were gripping him. He wanted to be the one touching Prince Remin, pleasing, stroking; he wanted Prince Remin to touch him that way, to explore his body, to seek out his needs, to satisfy his desires. It was a gorgeous sight, Prince Remin glorying in his own erotic pleasure. He was a beautiful, sensual man with an elegant, erotically primed body. If his mind had been designed to serve spiritual needs, his body had been designed to serve sexual ones. He was bold, knowing, driven, and uninhibited. It understated the case to call him experienced, but he approached sex as if it were fresh and exciting, responding to each move as if coming alive to it for the first time. He was surprisingly strong and astonishingly flexible, and he never looked awkward or mundane, always alluring, seductive, and blatantly, unbearably erotic. Pulling his knees up, Tano tried to shield his erection from Prince Remin’s view. Jacking himself, squirming across the chair, he panted, groaning, wanting to be on that bed. Wanting to be on Prince Remin, all over Prince Remin, on top of, against, inside. Inside, he had to get inside. As Prince Remin caressed himself, Tano wanted to follow those deft fingers with his own tongue, wanted to lick every inch that Prince Remin touched. He wanted to do the touching, wanted to rub his hands all over Prince Remin’s warm, silken skin, wanted to pull Prince Remin’s sexy, muscular body against himself, wanted to draw the lengthy hardness of Prince Remin’s erection down his throat. Wanted to make Prince Remin arch and writhe and undulate at his touch, under his hands, at the thrust of his dick. Prince Remin made all sorts of sounds as he pleasured himself. Low, agreeable moans as he began to stroke his body. Happy, content sighs as he pinched his nipples, arching and shifting and getting comfortable. Fond, lingering moans as he caressed his hips and thighs. Rising, urgent groans and sultry, carnal moans and needy, breathless cries as he masturbated, seeking pleasure, chasing it, finding it in the contours of his own passionate body. The sight of it, the images, would be with Tano forever. The tempting undulations of Prince Remin’s lithe body. The seductive sway of his pert ass. The dexterous ease of his long fingers wrapping around his engorged dick. The way he’d played with the oil, toyed with himself, taunted Tano, slippery fingers spreading the

dripping slickness until his thighs glistened with it. The way he’d teased himself open with that little blue dildo, gasping and making intoxicated, exhilarated noises, arching, hips bucking and jumping as he worked the dildo deeper. The way he’d fucked himself with that big gray dildo, rolling one from position to the next, pumping it urgently between his thighs as he sweated through one rapturous moan after another. Prince Remin’s reaction to penetration was exceptionally erotic, and Tano saw this moment as a gift; it was a blessing, to share this experience with Prince Remin, to be invited to witness such an uninhibited exhibition and exploration of the pleasures of sexuality and sensuality. Tano wanted, more than ever, to join in more actively; he wanted to be the one fucking Prince Remin, to replace that dildo with his own dick, to kneel between Prince Remin’s spread thighs and thrust. Everything Prince Remin did to himself, Tano wanted to do to him. Had already imagined himself doing, had already fantasized about and wished for. This, and so much more. And here Prince Remin was, right in front of him, every inch on display, every desire and response splayed before him, beckoning, teasing, oiled up, spread open. Prince Remin wanted to be penetrated, wanted to be fucked, and Tano wanted to fuck him, and it would be so easy, so simple, to slip onto the bed, to crawl between those long, lean thighs, to thrust into Prince Remin’s waiting, wanting body. He wanted to be the one delivering that pleasure; he could do it, he was ready, he wanted it. Prince Remin wanted it. He could do everything Prince Remin was doing and so much more, he could give Prince Remin everything, he wanted to, he needed it, he’d needed it for so long. If he could finally do it, if he could finally feel Prince Remin’s ass gripping his dick, if he could finally fuck Prince Remin, hard, licking those pink nipples, spanking that pert ass, rocking into Prince Remin over and over and over again until they were both crying out in ecstasy, together. Together, yes, he wanted them to be together, to share it, to share everything, he wanted to do everything to Prince Remin, everything for Prince Remin, with Prince Remin, his life, his sex, his pleasure. It ate at Tano, burned into him. His need, his love, the way Prince Remin’s fantasy had become his fantasy, the knowledge and hope and yearning that his fantasy would come true, the ache at knowing that he couldn’t have this yet, not yet, but soon, soon this would be his, truly his, theirs, together. Watching, staring, he felt like he couldn’t come enough, and then Prince Remin paused for a moment, sprawled there right in front of him, panting, aglow, and he thought that maybe Prince Remin had finished and okay, maybe now, finally, he could really get out one final orgasm and start breathing normally again and someday, perhaps, get

back to a normal way of life where he wasn’t just staring at Prince Remin waiting to see what might happen next. And then Prince Remin shivered, a happy little shudder of desire; Prince Remin was loving it, loving this, wanted more, there was going to be more, and Tano’s heart pounded with excitement, with happiness, with eagerness, yes, yes, more. The rest was like a vast, generous, succulent buffet where every bite of every dish was pure perfection, delicious mouthful after delicious mouthful, every aspect of the flavors and textures and servings a marvel, and Tano couldn’t even remember it all, as if it had all been too brilliant a miracle and his human mind could only comprehend it in flashes, details, the individual parts too intense to add up to a whole. Tano just sat there and watched every moment of it, and as he came again, he felt as if he were releasing more than just cum, felt as if he were experiencing more than simple sexual pleasure, felt as if he were offering up part of himself, his heart, his soul, because he loved Prince Remin more than he understood, more than he knew what to do with, more than his own simple heart could contain, and it was spilling out of him, soaring out of him, freed into the hands of the gods, into the hands of Prince Remin. When Tano looked back on that night, later, witnessing it in flashes, in searing glimpses, he remembered the shocking burn of his own lust, the churning rumble of his own intense urges, the pounding rhythm of his love for Prince Remin. He remembered the wild, magnificent tumble of unending pleasure as ecstasy and need echoed between the two of them, Prince Remin’s pleasure feeding his, his pleasure feeding back into Prince Remin’s. And he remembered in broken, erotic, fantastic yet real images so much, much more. The way Prince Remin had filled himself with that huge, sleek, red dildo, groaning in satisfaction at the first touch of it, crying out in ecstasy, in anguish, in triumph, as he pushed himself to one last, victorious, explosive climax. The way his joyful, blissful cries hung in the air as he caught his breath. The way he sprawled across the bed, content, sated, lazily petting his slick, sweaty body with loving, soothing, appreciative hands. The way he sighed, a warm and luxurious sound, and rolled over, his lean and muscular thighs parted over the corner of the bed, his well-oiled and gorgeously used ass offered for Tano’s inspection, and folded his arms, resting his cheek on the backs of his hands. With another sigh, he gave one last twitch of his hips, as if he’d ever needed to draw attention to the perky curve of his ass, and then he fell still, eyes closing.

A low, content murmur, a sensuous breath of sound. Golden lashes resting on one smooth cheek. “You may touch me now.” The first thing Tano did was come on the back of Prince Remin’s thigh. He hadn’t meant to. But that, “You may touch me now,” the idea of it, the permission, had sent him lurching up out of his chair, and his dick had already been in his hand, his dick had never left his hand, and he hadn’t even known what he intended to do, he’d just been thinking, “Gods above, I can touch him, touch, touch, I need it, yes, I have to, I can touch him, touch, he’s going to feel so smooth, his body’s so silky and perfect, yes,” and then he’d stared at Prince Remin - - he’d always been staring at Prince Remin, he couldn’t stop looking, he didn’t know how to look away anymore - - at Prince Remin’s back, at those long thighs, at the wild tumble of long, golden hair, at the pert rise of that sexy, tempting, fuckme ass, and he’d come. Suddenly, uncontrollably, almost wildly, across Prince Remin’s strong, bare, lovely thigh. Panting in short, stuttering breaths, Tano stared at Prince Remin some more. At his own cum sprayed across Prince Remin’s beautiful skin. He’d come on Prince Remin. He wanted to watch Prince Remin lick it up, to see Prince Remin’s tongue seek out the taste of him, but, flexible as Prince Remin was, licking the back of his own leg was probably difficult. So Tano did it for him. Immediately crouching down, Tano licked up the back of Prince Remin’s lean, muscular thigh. The chance to touch Prince Remin was impetus enough for him to let go of his dick, finally, and he ran his hands up Prince Remin’s bare thighs. The silkiness of Prince Remin’s skin, the perfection right against his palms, made him groan, and he rubbed his cheek against Prince Remin’s thigh, luxuriating in the feel of it. Moaning, Prince Remin shifted. It was a low, aching, heartfelt moan of appreciation and unsatisfied desires, and the shift wasn’t just an alluring move, it was an invitation, Prince Remin’s legs spreading, Prince Remin’s hips lifting, that pert ass twitching temptingly in an undeniable offer. Tano wanted it, Prince Remin wanted it, and there was no question of who wanted it more; there was only both of them, needing it, now. His palms sliding upward from those lean thighs, Tano rubbed the roundness of Prince Remin’s ass in both hands, loving its sexy little shape, its pleasing softness. The slickness of the oil drew him and he licked lightly at the cleft, growling in hunger at the sight of the tender little pucker of Prince Remin’s asshole. That, yes, that was the answer, that was what he needed, that was what would finally satisfy this unquenchable need. He’d wanted Prince Remin for so long, now, too long, and Prince Remin had been burning for him, and he was going to bury his erection in Prince Remin’s eager,

lusting body, and he’d find ecstasy like he’d never known before, and he’d finally, thoroughly sate himself. Yes, yes, lust was pounding through him and need was pumping hard and Prince Remin was writhing beneath him, breathing his name and rising against his hands and wanting it, asking for it, begging for it, “Tano, unh, T-Tano, please, fuck me, let me feel you inside me.” Prince Remin’s beautiful, carnal, seductive body was naked under his hands, moving in lithe, needy undulations while Prince Remin panted out his name in sultry, compelling tones. This wasn’t temptation, this was commandment, something Tano couldn’t withstand, couldn’t deny. He’d never wanted anything more in his life, never needed anything more in his life, but this was stronger than that, bigger than that, and Tano gripped his erection with one hand, already in motion, one thumb dragging along the cleft of Prince Remin’s ass, Prince Remin’s seductive, enthralling voice filling his ears and drowning out everything else, every other thought, every other idea in the world. He was going to fuck Prince Remin, it was a fact, it was a truth, andFuck Prince Remin. Gods above, no! He couldn’t fuck Prince Remin! Jerking away, hurling himself from Prince Remin’s body, he fell across the chair, rolling to the floor. Crawling, stumbling, he groped his way to the bathroom, locking the door with frantic fingers. He couldn’t fuck Prince Remin, he’d almost fucked Prince Remin, he had to fuck Prince Remin - - mind spinning, chest heaving, dick aching, Tano turned in helpless circles, seeking help, a solution, a way out. He hadn’t done it, praise the gods, he hadn’t done it, but he’d been so close, it had all been right there, sexual temptation, personal fulfillment, his greatest desire. His heart was pounding; he wanted to go back, to crawl onto Prince Remin body and kiss that beautiful skin and rock deeply inside - - fuck, he had to stop thinking about it, he couldn’t think about anything else. He jacked off again, to calm himself down some, and then he leaned over the sink and prayed. He stayed there for what felt like a long time. He took a shower, since it was there, since it was something to do. He had to go apologize to Prince Remin. He just didn’t trust himself. He didn’t trust himself to be near Prince Remin again and continue to resist. If he looked at Prince Remin, if he heard Prince Remin’s voice, he’d start touching, and who was going to stop him? He was ashamed of having gone so far. Relieved that he’d managed not to go too far, but he’d gotten so close, and what would happen next time?

He was dressed again, in his Ilaeian finest, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, when the door swung open. He’d locked it, he was sure of that, but he’d also known that it didn’t really make a difference. Barefoot in simple pants and a tank top, Prince Remin walked over and sat down beside him. Shoulder to shoulder. Prince Remin smelled so good that Tano turned his head and tucked his nose into Prince Remin’s hair, inhaling. With a sigh, Prince Remin leaned more fully against him. “Thank you.” Prince Remin’s hand slid into his, their fingers lacing. “You take such good care of me, every day. I’m sorry that I’m - - I know that it’s hard for you, having to be the adult. It’s not fair to you. But you prove to me over and over again that I can trust you.” Prince Remin was thanking him? Baffled, Tano reconsidered the situation. “I thought that I’d betrayed you, or disappointed you. I almost-” “We both almost,” Prince Remin said, looking into his eyes. “You didn’t, and because you didn’t, I didn’t.” Prince Remin kissed him, once, lightly. “Thank you.” It was kind of amazing that he hadn’t done it. Anyone else would have. He still couldn’t believe that he hadn’t. Clearing his throat, he squeezed Prince Remin’s hand. “Maybe we shouldn’t do all of that again until after we’re married.” When Prince Remin laughed, his eyes sparkled. “All right. Maybe not.” A sly, sexy smirk curved his lips and Tano’s pulse quickened. “Maybe I’ll just tie you into the chair next time, to keep you in your place.”

Part 281 Tano couldn’t resist a quick peek. Stepping into the pantry, he found the spices he’d come for, then opened the door into Chef Kanase’s kitchen. Dressed simply with a long, fat red braid swinging past his waist, Prince Talin was mixing something in a bowl. Prince Anosanim had a peach-colored apron tied over his short, tight dress, a few curling tendrils of orange hair loose from his bun. “Oh, Tano! How absolutely perfect. Come here, we’ve been languishing atrociously without your advice,” Prince Anosanim said, gesturing him over. “You’ve been busy.” Walking to Prince Anosanim’s side, Tano surveyed the bowls and plates and ingredients scattered across the kitchen. There seemed to be some neatness and order to their work, but they also seemed to be approaching the issue from all sides at once. They had cakes and constructions and frostings everywhere, in various stages of preparation.

“It’s so much fun! The time simply flies past. Now, here.” Prince Anosanim pushed a plate full of shaping candy towards him. “I’m doing something wrong here, clearly. We’ve been trying to make it more malleable, but we’ve run into a problem. It starts off too soft and won’t take any shape properly, and it gets all distorted if it firms up at all. Then there’s a brief period of about ten minutes during which it forms elegantly. Then it becomes terribly hard and simply breaks. It’s perfect for that brief moment, but what can we do to make that last longer? Constantly warm it and cool it, do you think?” He hadn’t realized how absorbed the princes would become with show cakes. This edible artistic medium had become a new playground, and they kept pulling him aside for questions and demonstrations. They were eager to experiment. He was amazed by their creativity and the wealth of their knowledge. Prince Talin’s mind was packed with more recipes than Tano could ever hope to try. They seemed to derive the most pleasure from working together; he never saw them working on the cakes alone. They’d successfully made all sorts of small cakes, test cakes anyone else would’ve served and shown off, concoctions as beautiful as they were delicious. He and Prince Anosanim talked about the shaping candy. Prince Talin came over, still stirring, and the three of them discussed possible variations and ways to improve on the flexibility and textures of the candy. Prince Anosanim wanted to create some elaborate cakes, such as an entirely edible royal palace with perfect detail, and he seemed to think that it was perfectly reasonable to expect such a thing to be possible. Maybe growing up with a mother who could snap her fingers and call a new moon into existence had given Prince Anosanim an exaggerated sense of what was likely. No one in Tano’s family had been capable of miracles, so he tended to have a more realistic view of his own abilities. Prince Talin tasted things with his own fingers. Prince Anosanim tasted things with Prince Talin’s fingers, too. Prince Talin would skim his fingertip along the edge of a bowl and either lick his fingertip himself, or offer it to Prince Anosanim, who would suck tasty delights off of Prince Talin’s finger with an assessing, appreciative moan. Tano wanted to offer his finger for Prince Anosanim’s tasting, but he couldn’t think of a way to do it that wouldn’t be obvious and clumsy. While they discussed the shaping candy, Prince Talin gave Prince Anosanim a finger’s taste of the chocolate they were warming. With an inquisitive, pleased moan, Prince Anosanim licked his lips. “Mmm, that’s good! The chocolate’s nice and rich, or do you think it’s still a little too bitter?” “You like things too sweet,” Prince Talin said. And then he offered his finger to Tano.

Oh. Tano wanted to flirt and enjoy himself, but he didn’t want to make assumptions about Prince Talin’s intentions. He loved finger-sucking - - not as much as dicksucking, obviously, but it was still a fun, sexy pastime, one he and Prince Remin made the most of. He didn’t want to go too far, but he’d hate to miss a good opportunity if it were being presented to him. Unfortunately, Prince Talin was harder to read than some of the other princes. Parting his lips, he tried a subtle lick at Prince Talin’s fingertip, swiping up chocolate. Prince Talin’s finger bumped his lower lip - - deliberate? an accident? - and he licked chocolate from his lip. “Mmm.” Warm, it was smooth and rich, a little nutty. Prince Talin’s finger brushed his lips again, deliberately this time, and now Prince Talin had all of his attention. Meeting that focused, dramatic red gaze, he parted his lips, and Prince Talin’s finger slid in. Turned on, loving the sensual flirtation, Tano sucked a little, wanting to play. Smirking, Prince Talin turned his hand. His finger crooked downward slightly, exerting light pressure along Tano’s tongue as he slowly withdrew. Groaning, Tano pushed up with his tongue. Prince Talin’s thumb caressed the corner of his lips, finger pushing back in, penetrating him. Sucking harder, Tano licked along the length of Prince Talin’s finger. Prince Talin’s thumb nudged his lips apart and he licked out across Prince Talin’s knuckles. Mmm, two fingers now, pushing deep into his mouth; Tano moaned, loving it, splaying a hand across Prince Talin’s chest, bobbing his head in rhythm with“I hate to interrupt,” Prince Anosanim said, “but could one of you get the cake from the oven?” Mmm. Enjoying the sensation, Tano closed his eyes as Prince Talin’s fingers slid from his mouth. Prince Talin’s thumb rubbed across his lips, an intimate and seductive caress, and then Prince Talin kissed him, once, lightly, a fleeting touch of lips to lips. Turned on and loving it, Tano went to get the cake from the oven. Anosanim loved playing like this with Talin. Experimenting together, creating together. They both had their own ideas about building, about design and aesthetics, but when they worked together, they came up with all sorts of notions they never would’ve stumbled into on their own. Cake decorating was about creating and building, about art and engineering, especially at this level of complexity. They’d finishes several cakes successfully, but that just led to new ideas as they wanted to try more techniques. They’d mined Tano’s knowledge for all of the information they could get, and they’d talked to anyone they thought might be able to contribute more, but they still weren’t

satisfied. So they’d started plowing forward on their own, toying with recipes, adjusting the existing wisdom to suit their needs. Anosanim wanted to make an edible cake stadium for Remin’s wedding. Or a Jacacean palace to present to Xio Voe. Or a cake sculpture of his parents for their homecoming. Working in ice or fruit or vegetables was fun, but cake presented new challenges, and he loved mixing hard work with frivolity. He could tell that Talin was enjoying it, too. Talin loved being creative within restrictions, loved testing himself through limitations. Trying to find the right edible products to work together in unique ways was frustrating, and that gave Talin’s creative brain new problems to puzzle over. Anosanim kept falling asleep at night only to have Talin roll over and nudge him and whisper, “What if we add more yeast?” or “What if we mix the chocolate with the shaping candy?” or “Did you write to Oeuaieleiuaieoneia about the syrup?” Building things and creating things and Talin. The perfect combination of his favorite things brought a marvelous sense of harmony and balance to Anosanim’s life. While his brain chewed on problems of physics, philosophy, and religion, Xio Voe faced Chef Heres across his desk. “If your concern is about the wedding, speak with the wedding planner.” “I apologize, Your Majesty. The issue is a more sensitive one.” Chef Heres’ expression was confiding, his tone ingratiating. “I’m worried about Chef Pitok. He’s so busy, with his work and his active personal life, and he’s so inexperienced, I’m afraid that he’s taken on more work than he realizes. You know what a massive undertaking a royal wedding is. This is a time when he should be enjoying his engagement. I hate to see him overwork himself, and I’d hate to see him disappointed on his wedding day. Worse, I’d hate to see Prince Remin embarrassed.” Fine. “What do you propose?” “It would be best for everyone, Your Majesty, if another chef took over. I’d be happy to do it myself. Chef Ramatek and I prepared the food for your own wedding, Your Majesty, and the two before it. We will, naturally, take all of Chef Pitok’s ideas and wishes into consideration.” Naturally. “I will have the matter investigated.” Xio Voe wasn’t going to yank Naritano Pitok based on the word of one person, a man who’d already demonstrated a personal bias.

Dismissing Chef Heres, he rang for his secretary. When Sulano Timirihiso appeared, Xio Voe instructed him. “Speak with the kitchen staff. Determine whether or not Chef Naritano Pitok is well-suited to plan the food for the royal wedding. If he is not, determine who is.” When Sulano came to Remin’s office, Remin had to smile at his pleasantly brisk, professional air. Not many people could’ve been thrown at Xio Voe with so little experience and survived, but Sulano had really matured under Xio Voe’s influence. They chatted for a moment, and then Sulano said, “Speaking of your wedding, about the food. Considering the number of people and the importance of the event, maybe it would be best to put a more seasoned chef in charge. Running all three kitchens at once, overseeing all of the workers, the details and planning, it’s a lot of work, and Chef Pitok will want to focus on you and the ceremony and his guests, not on what’s happening in the kitchens.” This was an odd thing for Sulano to come to him to discuss. “Tano’s excited about it. For our wedding, I wouldn’t want anyone else to make the final decisions. And as I understood it, the other head chefs would provide assistance during the events, to delegate and oversee the kitchens while Tano’s busy.” “If I may speak frankly.” Sulano hesitated. “Please,” Remin said, sitting forward. “You may be candid with me.” Holding Sulano’s gaze, he nudged open Sulano’s heart. It was easy; Sulano loved him and trusted him implicitly. Immediately, words tumbled from Sulano’s lips. “I don’t wish to question Naritano. He’s a friend, he’s a fantastic chef, and I know how much you love him. But if you’re speaking out of loyalty, we can find a way to do what’s best for the wedding.” Find a way to do what’s best for the wedding. That was pleasantly vague. Remin smiled, holding Sulano’s gaze; in an instant, Sulano relaxed, completely reassured. “I understand what you mean, and I thank you for looking out for me. But I want Tano to remain in charge. To feed so many people will be the work of many hands, but those hands will be directed from one mind, and I want that mind to be Tano’s. If there is a task for which he is ill-suited, he will pass that responsibility to another professional, as any of us would.” There was special meaning in celebrating their wedding with Tano’s food, but even if Remin had been marrying someone else, he would’ve wanted Tano to run the kitchens. “If King Voe has sent you to solicit my opinion on the best chef for the job, please inform him that Tano is my only choice.”

Tano liked people and found them interesting, but he preferred to hear news from the people involved, not from hearsay and gossip. Koso didn’t seem to share that preference, and often brought in fresh gossip during the day, keeping them informed about the latest happenings among the other servants. Which was how Tano learned that Sulano was going around the kitchens asking people about Tano’s work, and that Chef Heres wanted to take over the wedding menu enough to have petitioned King Xio Voe for the responsibility. The news came as a surprise to Tano. He’d assumed that his conversation with Chef Heres would’ve resolved the issue of the wedding menu. It was exasperating, frustrating, to be thought of so poorly by a fellow chef. To have his skills and professionalism and adequacy questioned so publicly. For his own wedding! He couldn’t even be trusted to run the kitchens for his own wedding? What kind of chef was he, in Chef Heres’ eyes? Now King Xio Voe, the man Tano had been hired to cook for, had sent Sulano around to interrogate everyone on Tano’s qualifications as a chef. It was infuriating. Embarrassing. “What if he asks us?” Koso asked. “He’d want to ask us, wouldn’t he? What should we say?” Taking a deep breath, Tano untied his apron. He had to be fair. “Just be truthful. Give him your honest opinions. Prince Remin’s wedding is too important. Whoever’s the best person for the job should be the one in charge. If that’s me or Chef Heres or anyone else, we have to do what’s best for Prince Remin.” “Where are you going?” Koso asked, as Tano headed for the door. “To the temples,” Tano said. To pray. To ask for guidance and patience and whatever else he’d need to keep him from wanting to ball up his fists and hunt down his fellow chef. A shimmering thread touched Remin’s thoughts. Ilanosa? Rising from his chair, Remin left his office. He didn’t feel any sense of urgency, only a mild preference for being somewhere else. In Alanohi’s temple. Yes, it might be nice to visit Alanohi’s temple. Remin strolled in, blessing people, greeting the priests. Tano was there, seated on a low bench against the wall, head down, hands clasped. Pleased to see him, Remin walked over, sitting beside him. Remin waited silently out of respect for Tano’s prayers; Tano’s eyes were closed, and he was

frowning slightly. Loving him, happy to be with him, Remin watched him, admiring the black fringe of his lashes against his cheek, the classic line of his nose, his tidily brushed hair. Sensing that it would be welcome, Remin brushed the backs of his fingers over Tano’s cheek, murmuring, “What troubles you, Naritano?” Tano turned towards Remin’s touch, his eyes opening slowly. He smiled at Remin as if coming out of a trance, or slipping into one. “Prince Remin.” Caressing Tano’s cheek, Remin drew his thumb down Tano’s nose. “You came to Alanohi in search of understanding today. What troubles you?” Taking Remin’s hand, Tano held it in both of his. “I’m just a little frustrated. I don’t care if people don’t like me, I don’t expect everyone I meet to be fond of me, that would be weird. But not liking me and working against me are different, and - listen to me,” Tano said, breaking off with a chuckle. “Working against me, it sounds so nefarious, like I’m some hero onstage somewhere. You didn’t know you were marrying someone important enough to have an arch nemesis, did you?” Shaking his head, Tano grinned. “It sounds so silly. Maybe it is silly, maybe I shouldn’t take it seriously.” It wasn’t a coincidence, was it, that Sulano had just come to Remin’s office. “It’s Chef Heres?” Remin guessed quietly, looking into Tano’s eyes. He wasn’t afraid to say it aloud; he spoke with people in the temples all of the time, and the acoustics always worked in his favor, shielding or amplifying his words depending on his intentions and his audience. If he intended his words as a private murmur for Tano only, that was what they would be. Nodding, Tano sighed, stroking Remin’s hand. “He asked the king about taking over the wedding.” Remin didn’t like what he’d heard about Heres trying to undermine Tano. “I will not permit anyone but you to manage the food for our wedding. I won’t even let Talin do it.” “That’s kind of - - I mean, Prince Talin, no one else can cook like that.” Gazing at Tano, Remin resented Heres’ interference. Resented anyone belittling Tano’s accomplishments. Resented Xio Voe for granting Heres’ insinuations even the veneer of significance. “I’ll speak to Chef Heres. I-” “No, no, please.” Tano squeezed his hand. “Please, don’t. You don’t have to. It’s not that serious. You’re not just my boyfriend, your word carries too much weight. I don’t want a lot of conflict, and I don’t want - - it’s like you need to devein a small fish and you hack away at it with a huge butchering knife. It’s completely out of proportion to have you come in and defend me. Defend me from what? He wants

to do the wedding, that makes sense, he did the last three, that’s his job. It’s fine, I understand why he’s angry. Thank you, you want to help me and you’re terrific, but there’s no actual problem.” So modest, and so quick to downplay the issue. Remin gave Tano a few soft, fond kisses, murmurings blessings and love. There was a problem, and Remin was going to address it. Maybe not with Heres, but Heres wasn’t the only one involved. Xio Voe wasn’t scheduled to meet with Remin for another hour and twenty-seven minutes. Why was Remin in his office now? Remin had the time wrong? Typically, Remin was more organized than that. Remin was there to see Selorin? No, Remin hadn’t so much as spared a glance in Selorin’s direction, even though Selorin had stood upon his entrance. Remin needed to meet with him early to adjust for a change in other plans? Possible; there were many demands on Remin’s time, and Remin dealt with many unexpected developments. However, that sternly disapproving look of smoldering wrath suggested that Remin had come to his office for a different purpose. Any number of actions Xio Voe took on any given day might displease the Anorian royal high priest. Which would bring Remin to him directly? Cialexes were often predictable. “Is this in regards to a personal matter?” “Are you perhaps unaware that I am more familiar with Anorian royal weddings than you are?” “No.” “I performed your wedding,” Remin continued on, completely disregarding Xio Voe’s clearly voiced reply. Selorin was looking between them with concern. “I performed Orinakin’s wedding. I helped to perform Kudorin’s wedding to Anikira. I also happen to have very poignant, vivid memories of all of the previous royal weddings performed by the royal high priest. Do you know how many more Anorian royal weddings than you I’ve attended?” He was capable of quickly calculating the exact number, yes, but he would dismiss that query as rhetorical. “Do you mean to accuse me of mishandling the preparations for your upcoming nuptials?” Remin’s lips curled as if he were about to snarl. “I mean to-” “Remin,” Selorin said quietly, cutting him off.

Remin held Xio Voe’s gaze for eight seconds, then broke eye contact and took a deep breath. “I apologize, Your Majesty. Permit me to begin our conversation anew.” “As you deem appropriate.” Xio Voe waited. With a touch at Remin’s elbow, Selorin sat down again. Composing himself with another breath, Remin sat beside Selorin. “The wedding in question is my wedding to Tano. Our opinions should carry some weight in the preparations. If you don’t trust Tano to be realistic about his ability to fulfill a task, due to his relative inexperience with Anorian royal weddings, ask me. My opinion should be enough. You sent your secretary all over the palace to interview not only me but, as I understand it, other servants. Tano’s underlings, people he lives and works with, now know without doubt that you aren’t sure that he’s fit to cook for his own wedding.” “I intended no slight to your judgment. I did not, in fact, direct my secretary to anyone in particular.” It had, however, been clever of Sulano Timihiriso to speak with Remin; Remin’s opinion, indeed, would have been the most significant, if Xio Voe had genuinely sought opinions at all. “Are you aware that Chef Bumado Heres has taken a dislike, be it personal or professional, to Chef Naritano Pitok?” Distaste flickered on Remin’s face. “Yes, I’m well aware.” Selorin was frowning. “He raised the point of Chef Pitok’s suitability. My secretary’s investigation was thorough.” “No one with slapdash methods lasts long around you,” Selorin noted, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back. “Correct. According to the investigation, the only person who believes that your fiancé should be replaced is Chef Bumado Heres,” Xio Voe told Remin. “In this particular instance, one person out of twenty-five is not so statistically significant as to be actionable.” “No one agrees with Heres,” Selorin said slowly. “Then you shamed Tano and wasted Sulano’s time.” He shook his head, dissatisfied. “You only ever waste time for Kudorin.” Xio Voe chose not to permit that sentence to pass without comment. “Time spent for or with Anosukinom is never wasted.” “You only ever lavish time on Kudorin,” Selorin corrected himself. Remin flashed a brief, warm smile. “You wouldn’t have wasted Sulano’s time just to shame Tano, so you had another objective. What did you gain?” he asked, blue hair swinging as he tipped his head to one side. He seemed to want to puzzle through the question

on his own, so Xio Voe remained silent. “All you did was prove Heres wrong and Tano fit. Which means,” he said, looking smug, “that you’ve proven that, among underlings and peers, everyone approves of Tano and no one but Heres himself finds Heres to be the better suited chef. Which gives Heres less basis for his arguments. You haven’t shamed Tano, you’ve shamed Heres. Or, you’ve embarrassed both of them, but I can guess which one of them is going to be more upset about it.” “Who did Sulano talk with?” Remin asked. From memory, Xio Voe rattled off the list of names, which included head chefs, assistant cooks, and the serving staff. The fact that Chef Heres’ own co-chef, Chef Ramatek, had aligned himself with Naritano Pitok, was of particular interest to Xio Voe. “I cannot comment on this tactic of playing games among the servants,” Remin said. “I’ve engaged in plots among the priests, for better or worse, and it only chastises me to mock my own reflection. However, I wish that you wouldn’t involve Tano. He’d never mention it to you, but you’ve insulted him, and he didn’t deserve it. He’s left with the impression that you genuinely considered him not up to the job.” “I assumed that you would take it upon yourself to reassure him, as part of the emotional grooming of your personal relationship.” “Emotional grooming,” Selorin repeated. “Is that a Jacacean concept?” “It is a term I developed for my texts on social, familial, and romantic relationships,” Xio Voe replied. Selorin frowned, then smiled with interest. “New texts? You’re writing about relationships now?” “Yes, but as I am not yet confident in my navigations of the topic, I do not expect to present the texts publicly for several years.” “Maybe you should reassure Tano yourself,” Selorin suggested. The mischievous smirk he couldn’t fully smooth out indicated his personal amusement at the notion. “As part of your exploration of interpersonal relationships. It could be a learning experience.” “I had not intended to seek him out, but I am not averse to explaining my methods and intentions personally.” “Please make sure that your paths cross, then,” Remin said, rising from his seat. He paused, tucking his hair behind his ear, then relaxed his shoulders. “I apologize

for my abruptness. I should not have jumped to conclusions, and it is incorrect of me to snap at my king.” Xio Voe watched Remin’s deep, respectful bow. “I accept your apology, and I will endeavor to address Chef Pitok’s concerns when appropriate.” Murmuring a blessing, Remin leaned down to kiss Selorin’s cheek, then left the office. As the door swung shut, Selorin sat back. “Heres has a grudge against Tano?” “When someone dedicates his life to a pursuit, progressing along the traditional route to success, and then sees someone else achieving the same level of success or better while circumventing the ordinary path, on occasion he will feel a sense of jealousy, confusion, or even betrayal. Whatever his personal and previous struggles, Naritano Pitok took a coveted position at an atypically young age as an outsider, and then proceeded to charm his way into the royal family. As my particular youthful accomplishments have been considered to outshine the successes of more seasoned stars in various fields, I have witnessed similar jealousy. People do not enjoy being upstaged, and on occasion they find vindictive pleasure in making their perceived rivals suffer, or in proving that those rivals do not deserve whatever gains they’ve made. Taking work away from Naritano Pitok would be a minor but satisfying victory.” “Heres could try to learn from Tano,” Selorin suggested. “If he’s a better chef, figure out what makes him better.” “Prideful reactions are often irrational.” “Yeah.” Sighing, Selorin flipped his hair over one shoulder, then gave Xio Voe a questioning look. “Are you going to talk to Heres about this? Tell him to get himself together?” “If his behavior strays any farther from professionalism, I will take action. His dislike for a colleague should be irrelevant. I have disliked any number of people and still completed tasks with them. Professional courtesy should override personal disgust in this situation. I will not tolerate unprofessional behavior, particularly not among highly ranked servants in Anosukinom’s palace. The position is too keenly coveted by too many people eager for an opportunity to serve Anosukinom. I won’t waste it on someone who misbehaves.” Kudorin waited. Selorin left Xio Voe’s office. Kudorin smiled, stripping out of his clothes.

Xio Voe looked up, sensing him, looking for him. “Anosukinom?” Naked, Kudorin sat on Xio Voe’s desk, sinking back, letting his hair cascade down the front of Xio Voe’s desk, his feet on Xio Voe’s armrests. “Groom me.” “Mmm, oh, I love you so much,” Tano breathed, kissing Prince Remin, pushing him back towards the bedroom. “Yes, oohhh, I love you, too.” Leaning against the doorjamb, Prince Remin held him close, kissing his mouth, biting his jaw, licking his neck. Tano moaned, pressing closer, threading his fingers through Prince Remin’s hair, loving the attention. They’d just gotten off but already, oh, yes, already he wanted Prince Remin again, wantedA sharp rapping sound startled him. Jostled him. Someone was at the door. Sighing, Prince Remin kissed him and pushed him away. “It’s the king. You answer it, I’m not presentable.” The king! He should’ve guessed. None of Prince Remin’s brothers knocked so imperiously. Smoothing his hair and adjusting himself in his pants, Tano rescued his mesh half-shirt from the floor, pulling it on. Opening the door, he bowed. “Good evening.” Xio Voe’s voice was as emotionless as ever; he carried books and scrolls. Tano would’ve expected that anyone so important would have someone to carry things for him. “Good evening, Your Majesty.” These weren’t his chambers yet, they were Prince Remin’s, and he couldn’t just invite someone into Prince Remin’s private space. But he couldn’t be rude to King Xio Voe, either. Torn, Tano hovered for a moment, then decided to go with, “May I be of assistance, Your Majesty?” “You may permit me entrance.” He couldn’t exactly refuse King Xio Voe, of all people, so he opened the door wider, backing up. “Yes, Your Majesty, please, come in.” To his relief, King Xio Voe just stepped inside and closed the door. He didn’t walk any farther into the apartment; he didn’t even look around, as if the glorious erotic wonderland of his surroundings didn’t interest him. “You had requested Jacacean recipes.” Yes! “Are those - - that can’t all be-” “These are copies of the imperial palace’s recipe collections. These are the texts every chef in the imperial palace studies.” King Xio Voe’s gaze was so sharply penetrating that Tano felt caught in place. “I present these copies to you out of

consideration for your work as my personal chef. Aside from professional instruction, I expect you not to share the information found herein with anyone not a citizen of Jacacean Empire.” Gods above. Tano had expected a book or two, at best, something cobbled together by a historian, maybe. Not officially sanctioned recipe collections, and certainly not so many! He also hadn’t expected to be trusted with imperial secrets. Accepting the books and scrolls with awe, he bowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty. It is very kind of you, Your Majesty, this is very generous. I will protect them.” Hugging them to his chest, he felt amazed and excited. He couldn’t wait to read them. So many new recipes, new techniques, new ideas! He’d be in his kitchen experimenting for months to come! To learn from the official recipes of the imperial palace, to know what the world’s best Jacacean chefs knew, to cook the exact dishes served to Emperor Xio Sei himself! “I will do my best to serve you well, Your Majesty.” He had to find somewhere safe to store them. King Xio Voe looked down at him expressionlessly. “I was perhaps mistaken in my assumptions earlier today. I believed that you understood my regard for your abilities as well as my respect for your preference for determining the dietary details of your own wedding. In instructing my secretary to speak with your peers and underlings within the kitchen staff, I sought to solicit other opinions, not to form my own. My goal was to establish decisively and publicly whether or not you had the support and respect of the staff.” “Really?” Astonished, Tano reconsidered his earlier reaction. “You weren’t planning to replace me?” “No,” King Xio Voe said flatly. “I had no such plans.” Then, wait, “Then you just wanted to know what everyone else thought?” “If a leader does not have the support and respect of his peers and underlings, his work may become ineffective. Determining the relationship between a team and his leader can be beneficial. In addition, I wanted to discourage Chef Heres from his complaints against you.” Oh, no. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t - - you shouldn’t have to deal with that. I’ll try harder to avoid him, we barely speak as it is.” It was shameful, that Tano’s conflict with Chef Heres had even come to King Xio Voe’s attention. Hoping to change the subject away from Chef Heres, Tano wondered, “Should I ask Sulano about the results? If people had useful comments, it would be great to know what I should work on. Lo Ariside’s been incredibly helpful - - everyone has, really, I’ve learned a lot.”

“I expect that he will share the conversational details with you, if not the specific identity of each comment’s source. You may find it rewarding to know that ninetysix percent of people interviewed expressed respect and support.” What?! “Ninety-six percent! How many people did he talk to? Prince Remin and Koso? I guess that wouldn’t make sense mathematically,” he admitted. “Where did the other four percent come from? Lo Ariside? No, sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that, it’s probably confidential.” “As he has made no secret of his objections, I find no harm in mentioning that the unsupportive four percent was Chef Heres.” But that meant that no one else thought that he couldn’t handle it. If Chef Heres alone was four percent, then Sulano must have talked to twenty-four other people, and none of them thought that he wasn’t right for the job. Twenty-four people, that had to include Chef Kanase, didn’t it? And Chef Ramatek? And, most importantly, King Xio Voe believed in him, too. He’d been embarrassed, before, and frustrated; he’d worried that Chef Heres’ doubts might spread to others, that after hearing Chef Heres’ insinuations and misrepresentations people would question his skill and find his leadership lacking. But that hadn’t happened. Maybe his work spoke for itself. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you for your trust in me. I’ll do my best to continue to serve you well. Prince Remin’s wedding is too important an event, if I didn’t think that I could do it, I wouldn’t risk failing just for the sake of my own ego.” “Understood.” Tano realized that he was running his fingertips over the spine of one of the books, caressing it, and stopped. He couldn’t wait to delve into the texts. So many recipes! “Good evening,” King Xio Voe said. “Please convey my apologies to Prince Anoremin A Hiti for my disruption of his privacy.” “Good evening, Your Majesty.” Bowing, Tano opened the door for him. “Thank you very much, Your Majesty, I’m very honored.” With clean, efficient strides, King Xio Voe left. King Xio Voe hadn’t doubted him. King Xio Voe, someone with incredibly high standards, thought highly enough of him to present him with such valuable texts. The very recipe collections entrusted to the professionals who cooked for Emperor Xio Sei! Tano couldn’t wait to read, to learn, to explore and absorb all of this information. Movement caught his eye and he looked over, smiling, as Prince Remin came into the room. “Congratulations.” Prince Remin hugged him, then cast an admiring eye

over the books and scrolls. “I’m genuinely impressed.” With a fond, amused expression, Prince Remin touched Tano’s cheek. “You want to read them right now, don’t you?” He couldn’t be less than honest with Prince Remin. “Yes, but not if it interferes with my time with you. I’ll set them aside until tomorrow.” “As the sun and the moons and the stars share the sky, we will compromise. Come and make out with me for a little while, and after we get off, you can read.” That sounded perfect. Kissing Prince Remin, Tano nuzzled his cheek. “Impressed that King Xio Voe trusts me this much?” Prince Remin’s chuckle was low and sexy. “Impressed that he managed not to look below your neck through that entire conversation. I don’t know how he does it.” Laughing, Tano twisted aside to set down the texts. “You were watching?” Prince Remin plucked at the hem of Tano’s mesh half-shirt, tugging him back in. “I’m nosy. And I had a fantastic view of your ass.” Grinning, Tano kissed him. “If you were looking at my ass, how did you keep track of where King Xio Voe was looking?” Hands slipping beneath Tano’s shirt, Prince Remin pinched his nipples, kissing his jaw. “I might have been distracted and missed a few moments. You tell me, where was he looking?” Tano chuckled against Prince Remin’s mouth. “If our extraordinary king ever did anything unseemly,” he whispered, settling his hands on Prince Remin’s slim hips, “I would never be so disloyal as to spread gossip about it.” Talin was above something. Above someone? He looked down to see what was beneath him. Looked down into Remin’s bedroom. Gold. The gleam of gold. Candlelight. Gold silk sheets. Remin’s hair. Remin was naked. Asleep. Relaxed, comfortable, at peace. Books were scattered over the bed. Some open, some closed. A stack of scrolls. Tano was stretched out on his stomach beside Remin. Reading. He rolled over, onto his side, adjusting his book. He turned a page. He toyed with Remin’s hair as he read, twisting a lock of golden hair between his fingers. They looked content. There was a companionable domesticity to the moment. Even while one of them slept, they preferred to be together. The familiarity, the warm golden glow, it made for a cozy little scene.

Waking, Talin opened his eyes. Glittering orange eyes regarded him. Anosanim’s elegantly manicured forefinger touched his lips. “You looked so happy. What were you dreaming of?” Remin spent the next few days enjoying the results of Tano’s experiments with Jacacean cuisine. From what he could glean, Tano was learning not only new recipes but also new techniques. Whatever else Remin thought about Jacacean culture, he was gaining healthy respect for their food. Some nights, Tano cooked private family dinners. Just the Seven Siblings and their husbands one evening, a jumble of cousins and aunts and uncles joining in the next. Jacacean dishes one night, Anorian dishes the next. It was nice to eat in the comfort of family, and Remin enjoyed showing off Tano’s skill. Since Remin couldn’t have the kind of sex he preferred with Tano, the two of them spent time talking about what they’d like to do, what they would do, given the opportunity. They reminisced about partners and positions they’d enjoyed; they discussed their fantasies at length. Sex was such an important part of Remin’s life that he found it rewarding to understand Tano’s sexuality so well, and he enjoyed sharing details of his sexuality with Tano. They were in bed together one evening, kissing lazily. With a sigh of contentment, Remin ran his fingers along the hem of Tano’s shorts, caressing Tano’s thigh. A thought drifted across his mind, and he stopped kissing Tano for a moment, considering it. “Hmm.” Tano’s kisses wandered from his mouth, venturing towards his neck. “Mmm?” “I might have an idea of what our future sex life will be like. I had a vision of it, before I knew that you were the one.” “A vision? Of me? Of us?” Tano pushed himself up onto one elbow. “What happened? What did you see?” “We were outside. In the courtyard.” The memory of it turned him on, and he ground his hips against the pillow a little, drawing Tano’s hand to his ass. Obligingly, Tano gave his ass a squeeze, kissing him. Mmm, yes. “I was on the grass, on my back. You had my wrists tied to the bush near Orinakin’s door. You were fucking me and teasing me.” Hot from the thought, he kissed Tano, gripping the back of Tano’s thigh, groaning with pleasure as Tano’s forefinger stroked right at the top of the cleft of his ass. So close, such a tickling little hint of what he wanted. “You were taunting me, telling me it was what I wanted. There were belas,

I could hear them but I couldn’t see them, they were watching. That was what it was about, being watched. Being seen, being in public, helpless to stop it.” “You must have wanted it,” Tano murmured, nuzzling him, kissing his neck. “Did you like it? Being put on display like that?” “Nnn, gods above, yes.” “Oh, yeah. I’d love to show you off,” Tano whispered, kissing him, licking him, rocking against him. “Let everyone see the way you move.” Yes, yes. It had been so long since anyone had shown him off like that, displayed him for other men’s eyes, offered him for another man’s fantasy. Remin had used to thrive on being wanted, and he wanted to feel that way again. “You’d do it to me. You’d tie me to that bush and fuck me on the grass.” “Oohh, yes.” Pushing him back, Tano rolled on top of him, thrusting harder against him. “I’ll take you any way you like it.” Jacaceans were so focused and so prideful, they didn’t seem to do anything halfway. They put so much emphasis on education that even the recipe books were full of information. Each one had its own glossary of terms and step-by-step explanations of techniques. If Tano came across a term he was unfamiliar with, like an instruction to eisaix something, he could look it up and learn all about how to do it in detail. And the illustrations! Some were boldly colored, some not, but they were all precise and detailed. Illustrations accompanied the recipes, so that he would know how the dish should look upon completion. Illustrations accompanied the explanations of techniques, to provide a clear idea of what the process looked like. There were illustrations of ingredients and of tools, so that anyone coming across the texts three dynasties later might know exactly what his ancestors had eaten, and how. Most of the recipes had notes explaining their origins. To Tano’s surprise, they acknowledged that some of the dishes the Emperor ate came from the civilizations the Empire had assimilated. He’d thought that the Empire just took people over and wiped out their cultures, but now he wasn’t so sure. There were notes about how dishes had, over time, been modified as the availability of ingredients or dietary interests changed. There was even an elaborate chart suggesting which foods and spices were recommended or to be avoided depending on religious restrictions or health concerns. Finding it all fascinating, Tano pored over the texts at length, absorbing all of the information he could pack into his brain, then coming back for more. He kept the

books in Prince Remin’s apartment, storing them in a small chest Prince Remin provided for him. It was funny, how easily things he needed appeared in the palace. If he wanted somewhere safe to store precious books, he didn’t have to devise something, or build something, or wistfully count his coins until he could afford to buy it. He just had to ask, and then it was there, at a word, appearing as simply as water or fire. He could see why all of life wasn’t like that - - he could imagine how chaotic the world would be if everyone got anything requested all of the time. And the chest hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere, like a miracle; it had been stored somewhere else, and carried to Prince Remin’s apartment by servants, and crafted by human hands however long ago. But the trick was, he didn’t have to consider any of that; he could simply ask for it and receive it and think no more about it. Worries about where things actually came from, that was for assistants and servants to concern themselves with; Tano got to ask for something and snap his fingers and expect it to appear. It was a weird way to live. He hoped that it wouldn’t get to his head. He didn’t want to become the sort of person who forgot about all of the work that went into the end result. He guessed, though, that it wouldn’t be a big problem for him; no one else seemed to forget. The Seven Siblings, even, were forever thanking their servants. They even talked pleasantly about their servants behind their backs. He’d overheard Prince Desin and Prince Anosanim talking about how funny and clever someone was, and how they hoped that she was getting over a bad breakup well, and they’d spoken so positively that he’d assumed that they were discussing a cousin. It had turned out to be one of the maids who cleaned their rooms. For comparison, he’d asked Prince Bade about the relations between servants and royalty in Nosupolis. Prince Bade had admitted that the element of friendship was distinctly lacking. Nosupolin royalty discouraged the familiarity Anorians seemed to take for granted. “But you’re all working and living together,” Prince Rini had argued, lounging across the couch with his head in Prince Bade’s lap. “How can you be distant with someone you’re so close with?” “We’re already too close,” Prince Bade said. “That’s the problem. Royalty is supposed to be dignified. Our servants see us at our worst. They bathe us and clean up after us. They overhear our arguments and tend to us when we’re ill. They know everything about us, even things we try to keep from each other. We have to keep some formal separation to maintain some semblance of dignity, to remind us and them that we’re…” He hesitated.

“Better than they are?” Prince Selorin asked dryly. At that, Prince Bade looked uncomfortable, Prince Rini snickered, and Prince Anosanim began to fan himself. Not sure what the problem was, Tano tried to smooth things over. “Of course you’re better than they are. That’s why you’re royalty. That’s why they’re serving you.” Suddenly, everyone was talking at once. Half of the people in the room jumped in to argue about the idea that royalty was better than servants, or that any human beings were better than anyone else. Then King Xio Voe spoke. “The notion that members of the ruling classes are uniformly superior suggests a gross disregard of history. This statement is a judgment of the Anorian educational system.” “Tano’s speaking from an Anorian perspective,” Prince Orinakin explained. “In Orina Anoris, the rulers are the children of gods. While we may not be better than other people in a moral or ethical way, we are legitimately enhanced beyond the general population.” “Sure, but you can’t expand that to anyone else,” Prince Rini said. “Other rulers are just people. You can overthrow them and everything.” Prince Talin snorted. “How do relations between the imperial family and servants function in Seijaces?” Prince Orinakin asked King Xio Voe. “Servants are hired to labor in the palace,” King Xio Voe replied. Usually he sat on his own chair, separate from everyone else; that evening, he was on a couch, Prince Anosanim at one side, Anosukinom napping at his other side. Tano wasn’t sure why Anosukinom was taking a nap, but he was emitting a faint purple glow. “I expect them to undertake their duties as I undertake mine. The fact that their employment is within my home does not indicate that any personal relationship should ensue. Burdening them with expectations of familiarity places undue pressure upon them should they prefer to complete their duties in a purely professional manner. Proximity is not sufficient basis for friendship. Reacting to the forced intimacy of servitude by assuming friendship is unwarranted.” Prince Rini sat up, frowning. “So you just ignore them?” “We’re talking about three very different cultures,” Prince Orinakin said. “Judging Jacacean or Nosupolin culture from our perspective ignores the very different social structures in place.” “Our servants kind of have to love us,” Prince Desin said. “I’d throw away any opportunity in the world to serve Anosukinom, and so would any other Anorian. But if your king is just some guy like anyone else, and there’s not a strong perceived distance between royalty and commoners, then a crappy king would seem easily

replaceable.” He shrugged. “Like Bade said, you have to remind your servants that you’re better than they are, one way or another.” “That’s not what I said!” Bade protested. “I like it when people can elect their own rulers,” Prince Rini said. “That way, everyone can rally around and say, ‘I want that guy to be in charge, he’s way smarter and more ethical than the rest of us,’ and then you can all help him to get things done. When it’s an inherited position, you end up with just anyone in charge.” “Not just anyone,” Prince Anosanim protested. “No matter which person seems to be in charge, the gods themselves are always in charge. They wouldn’t set ‘just anyone’ in rule over their people.” “Some of us happen to take the responsibility seriously,” Prince Bade said. “We may not be the children of gods, but we do the best that we can.” “Right, but some of you, not all of you,” Prince Rini said. “Nosupolis is lucky, you have your father and Tiko, but what about the rest of the countries?” King Xio Voe’s eyebrows twitched. “If national leadership is weak, the Jacacean Empire would be willing to intervene. Our own leadership is reliably strong, intelligent, and forward-thinking.” “Oh, sure, that’ll help,” Prince Rini said. “We’ll just let the Jacacean Empire take over the world, that’ll solve everything. Why didn’t I think of that?” Prince Anosanim sat back, leaning comfortably against King Xio Voe’s shoulder. It looked as if he were cozying up to a statue; the king didn’t react at all. “It’s simply fascinating, isn’t it? When the barrier between people is artificial, you have to work so much harder to maintain it, so you create much deeper divides. When it’s natural, it’s always going to be there no matter what, so you don’t have to do anything special to maintain it. Look at Remin, you can’t ignore that he’s a child of the gods, he could never hide it and you could never forget it, so he can do whatever he likes.” “Hunh.” Prince Rini drummed his fingers on Prince Bade’s thigh. “I was thinking about Vade the other day, about how Bade already married so well that Vade can marry anyone he wants. Usually the excuse is that you have to worry about titles or land or money or something like that, so you have to marry someone in your throne’s best interests. So if Vade can marry for love, that opens it up to anybody at all. But I guess it doesn’t, does it? He still has to marry someone with the right title. He couldn’t marry Tano, like Remin can. You have to keep those artificial barriers up so no one realizes that you’re just the same as your servants.”

“By a wide majority, human beings are attracted to people of similar social standing,” King Xio Voe said. “They prefer marriages with people of common interests and a common background. This makes the blending of lives easier. Nosupolin servants are more suitable partners for each other than for Prince Vade.” “I’m not marrying someone just like me,” Prince Rini argued. “That sounds boring.” “Or, in your case, horrifying,” Prince Desin said. “There is no one else just like you,” Prince Talin said. “Thank the gods.” “Shut up. How would that work in practice?” Prince Rini asked. “Servants marry servants, so children of gods marry children of gods?” “Everyone in the world is a child of the gods,” Prince Remin said. “We have the largest pool of marriage candidates possible.” Tano grinned at him, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Part 282 Vade was in a meadow. A very green meadow. The sky was very blue overhead. The sun was bright, so warm Vade was starting to sweat. He shouldn’t have worn his long underwear. No, that was indecent, he had to wear his long underwear. No, he didn’t, not all of the time, not in Orina Anoris. When he was in - - but he wasn’t in Orina Anoris, was he? Of course he was. That was why the sky was so blue and the grass was so green. The grass didn’t look like this at home. It wasn’t perfect at home. “Home.” The pharaoh was sitting beside him, making flowers grow. Vade watched as he pointed a finger at the grass and a flower rose from the ground, forming perfectly, a white rose. White for family, in Orina Anoris. White for purity, in Nosupolis. “Will Nosupolis always be home?” Yes. Of course it would. Nosupolis was home, Nosupolis was Vade’s life, Vade’s family, Vade’s world. But, no, maybe - - Vade’s world was a lot bigger now than it had been before. He’d traveled. He’d met people. He’d experienced things. And Bade was Vade’s home, always, forever, and Bade was in Orina Anoris. Orina Anoris was different, a place outside of Vade’s normal life, a world so far apart from everything Vade thought of as real. But Bade was there. And Orinakin. And all sorts of thoughts and experiences and people, all tangled up in his heart. Bade was Vade’s home; Bade was in Orina Anoris. Bade’s home was Orina Anoris. Maybe “Vade’s home was Orina Anoris” wasn’t quite right, but maybe Vade’s

home was in Orina Anoris. Maybe Vade could have two homes. His heart had lived in two places ever since Bade had left him. “I miss you,” the pharaoh said. “My Wanderer.” The Maiden and the Wanderer. Brandel and Grekkis. But Vade wasn’t the Wanderer, Bade was. Vade was the one who stayed home, waiting, like the Maiden, like Grekkis, like Selorin. Bade was the one who kept leaving. Except the pharaoh was always in Orina Anoris, tied to the land, waiting, and Vade was the one who came to visit and left again. It had never occurred to Vade that anyone would really care when he came or went. Bade did, but the Anorian royal palace was such a big, beautiful, busy place, so grand and exciting, that one stray relative couldn’t make much of a difference. Not to the pharaoh. But everything mattered to the pharaoh, which was kind of the opposite of what Vade had expected before meeting him. Having infinite cosmic knowledge should’ve thrown everything into bizarre perspective where nothing at all made a difference, but to Anosukinom everything made a difference. Including Vade, which was baffling but still a fantastic ego boost. “You’ll come home to me soon,” the pharaoh said. He was seated perfectly placidly on the grass, surrounded by more and more pristine white flowers as he grew them in one silent miracle after another. His chest was bare and he wore a small black pendant on a chain around his neck. “For Remin’s wedding.” Remin’s wedding? Vade had known that Remin and Naritano were going to fall in love, but wedding? Remin, married? The sexiest, most sexual man in the world, suddenly tied down to one guy? It felt like the end of an era. The loss of a dream. The pharaoh snickered and all of the flowers turned purple. A purple rosebud lifted from the ground, rising before him, spinning delicately in mid-air, right in front of his face. Amazed, he stared at it, watching it; then he looked past it, to the pharaoh. The pharaoh smiled. “I love you with all of my heart, Inanodat.” Vade smiled back at the pharaoh helplessly, love swelling and bursting in his chest. “Come home to me,” the pharaoh said quietly, sending another flower spinning lazily, prettily, in his direction. The pharaoh’s expression was all of the love in the world. “My heart beats weakly without you.” Unh. With a fully satisfied groan, Remin stretched, luxuriating in the heat of the warm shower, the quiet hum of pleasure lingering in his mind, the anticipation of crawling back into bed and back into Tano’s embrace, the sweet burn in his ass. He wished that Tano could wield the dildo, that he didn’t have to fuck himself with

it; he longed for the unpredictability of someone else penetrating him. He’d pondered how to work around his sexual restrictions, but there was no practical solution. The only way Tano could direct the dildo’s movements without touching it would be through the miracle of divine intervention, and Remin could only begin to imagine how Kudorin would respond to that request. Kudorin’s potential reactions were as numerous as blades of grass. As inscrutable as the stars. Between Kudorin’s generous love and Kudorin’s irreverent sense of humor, Remin could picture all sorts of answers, from a happy yes to a laughing, absolute no and even a baffled, horrified, amused demand that Remin explain himself in detail and at length. As things stood, Remin just handled the dildo himself, and Tano handled almost everything else, and if everything-but-penetrative-sex was this fantastic, Remin was very optimistic about the future. He wished that Tano were in the shower with him, but he’d deliberately left the room to give Tano time alone in bed with the dildos. Remin still felt a hot, primal, needy urge to pounce and take every time he saw Tano out of those shorts. Tano’s dick was his, it was absolutely and entirely his, and it was absolutely and entirely perfect, and his control was better and better every day, but he had limits. He had very real limits, and watching Tano penetrate himself was beyond them. He lingered in the shower, jacking off over fantasies of what Tano was doing that very minute, in his bed, naked, grunting and hungry for it, hand working, hips rolling and snapping. Finally, he dried off, content and in love and wanting to see Tano again, wanting to be close. Naked, he left the bathroom. His room was half-dark, candles aglow near the headboard. Tano was sprawled carelessly under the covers, snoring, one hand gripping Remin’s pillow. Wanting him, Remin climbed onto the bed, crawling across Tano’s slumbering body. On his stomach, Tano slept heavily, his back smooth and muscular. Kissing his shoulder, Remin tugged the sheets down enough just to check, just to peek. Fuck. Fuck yes. That sexy, round, gorgeous, smackable ass. Dragging the sheets down, Remin moaned, transfixed by the generous curves of Tano’s bare ass. “Nnh.” Twitching, Tano shifted. His nose wrinkled and his brow furrowed, and then he rolled over, squinting. Tugging the sheets back up, he smiled at Remin, rolling over further and pulling Remin down for a kiss. A slow, relaxed, deep kiss, and Remin’s hands were trying to get to Tano beneath the sheet but Tano pushed Remin aside, breaking the kiss and reaching for his shorts. Remin hated those shorts. If he’d believed in a place of evil, some sort of damning afterlife, he would’ve been sure that Tano’s shorts came directly from there.

“Mmm.” Tano’s sexy, gorgeous wriggles as he pulled the shorts on were nothing but paradise, though, and Tano’s kisses were lazy and loving. “Prince Remin. I-” Grunting, Remin tapped his fingers against Tano’s lips. Tano surveyed him with wide, inquisitive eyes. “Does the grass consider the soil a stranger, Tano? Do formalities remain between the seed and the ground in which it grows? Must you use my title, even now? If we are not informal with each other, if we are not intimate now, will it occur by some miracle upon the ritual of marriage?” As Remin lifted his fingers, Tano said, “I’ve been thinking about that. A lot of people call me Chef Pitok, but not everyone. It’s fine when most people do it, because it’s appropriate, but there are people I’m close with, people my relationship is more personal with. Sulano, or Prince Rini, or you, for example. I don’t want Prince Anosanim to call me Chef Pitok, that would seem too formal, it would make it seem as if we weren’t close, when we are. I want to address you correctly because you’re…” His hands drew Remin in, pulling Remin close, confident and familiar and wonderful on Remin’s body, and Remin settled against him, happy to be there, a tangle of limbs. “You’re everything to me,” Tano admitted. “You’re Anosatim, child of the gods, second born. I would never be rude to you, I would never insult you, I would never pretend to be the same as you.” “You want to address me correctly,” Remin repeated. “Being too formal creates distance between us that I don’t want. We’re partners, we’ll be married soon, you’ve changed my world. I trust you, I open myself to you, I love you greatly, and when you insert my title into our conversation, you’re forcing barriers between us. I don’t want to be only a prince when I’m with you. I want to be all of myself.” He ran his fingers down Tano’s cheek, along Tano’s jaw. “Address me correctly, Tano. Address me as my husband would. Call me only Remin.” Licking his lips, Tano smiled. “Remin, my prince? Remin, my beloved? Remin, my heart and my inspiration and my life?” “Tano, my dream,” Remin murmured, kissing him, loving him. “Tano, my one. Tano, my husband. Say it again, say my name, say it for me.” “Mmm, Remin,” Tano breathed, kissing him, rolling them over. “Remin, Remin, Remin.” Back from a morning ride, Rini left his boots to be cleaned and walked barefoot through the palace. Rounding a corner, he almost bumped into Koso. Giving Koso a friendly hug, he asked, “What are you doing out of the kitchen? Running around fetching ingredients for Tano?”

“I was looking for you, Prince Rini.” Koso stole a few kisses. Grinning, Rini nudged Koso’s hard-on a little with his thigh. “He wanted to know where you were.” “I’m right here.” Taking Koso’s hand, Rini said, “Walk me to the kitchens. How’s your mother?” He and Koso chatted along the way. When they reached the kitchens, Tano looked surprised to see them but let him sample some of the meats and sauces for Remin’s lunch. “You wanted to talk to me?” Rini asked, licking his fingers. “I apologize, Prince Rini. I meant to come to you.” “It’s easier this way.” Taking a seat on a nearby stool, Rini swung his feet. “What can I do for you?” “Thank you, Your Highness. It’s private-” “Really?” Curiosity piqued, Rini hopped down from his stool again, offering a hand to Tano. “Let’s go find somewhere to talk and you can tell me all about it.” Bade leaned against the side of the tunnel, running his fingers through Orinakin’s gorgeous, silky hair, feeling lazy and happy and loved. In a few minutes he’d have to meet with Tasum to study Mannillean political history, but for now, he could just stand there and feel good about life while his sexy, wonderful husband knelt at his side and laced up his pants. “Vinga.” Firmly securing a knot in the laces at Bade’s hip, Orinakin got to his feet. Bade’s hand fell reluctantly from his hair. Orinakin’s expression was direct and full of warmth. “I was wondering if you’d do something for me this afternoon.” Of course he would. Immediately curious, Bade asked, “What is it?” It would be something political, probably, something relating to his hosting duties. Or it would be family-oriented, something about one of Orinakin’s brothers. Well, it could always be sexual. There were all sorts of sexual favors he wished Orinakin would ask him for. Although most of them really just boiled down to, “Please fuck me,” and Bade fucked Orinakin all of the time. Not nearly enough, there was no such thing as having enough sex with Orinakin, butLaughing, Orinakin kissed him, fingers running down his cheek. “Please fuck me,” Orinakin said. “But that’s not the favor I had in mind.” Orinakin’s grin was deliciously pleased and slightly wicked, and Bade loved everything about it. “Tano needs your help with something.”

Remin was used to enjoying lunch in his office, but Tano suggested that he eat in his apartment for a day, instead. It seemed as if it would be more difficult to get back to his tasks if he ate in his rooms, but he took the risk. Lunch in his apartment was nice. He could relax fully and make as much noise as he liked. After he ate, he and Tano sprawled across the bed, making out. Tano slipped a dildo into his hand, whispering to him, asking him to use it on himself. He did, and that got both of them off pretty fast. While they were coming down again, kissing, stroking each other, Tano said, “Remin…” Yes. “I love to hear you say my name.” Remin kissed Tano again. “Mmm, Remin. I’ve been thinking about your vision. What you said about being in the courtyard.” Yes. He had, too, and he loved that Tano had enjoyed the fantasy. “Maybe once we’re married, we can try it out.” Tano made a sexy growling noise by his ear, nuzzling into his hair. “Why wait until then?” Remin’s heart skipped a beat. Was Tano suggesting what he thought Tano was suggesting? With a thrilling pang of excitement, he looked into Tano’s eyes. “Now?” Tano’s grin was mischievous. “You’re going to have to play along and let me tie you up. No fair wriggling free too early.” Remin was very good at playing along. “No wriggling,” he promised. Laughing, Tano smacked his ass, rolling him over and crawling across him to leave the bed. “You have to wriggle some of the time. That’s part of the fun.” Tano helped Remin into a long, light dressing gown. Hand-in-hand, they strolled into the courtyard. The allure of turning fantasy into reality was too strong; he liked the idea of making Remin’s vision real, of bringing to life something Remin had anticipated. They simply walked together for a few minutes, enjoying the sunlight and the beauty of the courtyard, enjoying time together, enjoying the promise of pleasure in the moments to come. As their path brought them near to Prince Orinakin’s door, Remin slowed down, glancing around. “This looks like a good spot,” Tano decided, nudging him forward.

“Right…here?” Remin’s voice was hesitant. He was glancing uncertainly at Prince Orinakin’s windows. “This is where I want you.” Tano grinned, slipping into the game of it, his fingers teasing the fabric of Remin’s dressing gown. Leaning in, he whispered into Remin’s perfectly shaped ear. “Are you worried? That someone might see?” He chuckled softly, nuzzling Remin’s ear, rubbing his nose against Remin’s hair. “Don’t tell me that you’re shy.” The idle plucking of Tano’s fingers threatened to tug the dressing gown open, threatened to expose Remin’s nudity. Remin twisted against Tano, turning in Tano’s embrace, putting his back to the windows. “We don’t have to do this here.” He hadn’t heard Remin sound nervous in a long time, and it tugged at his heart. But Remin didn’t need to be nervous now. Tucking strands of long, golden hair behind Remin’s ear, he whispered, “But this is where you want it. And this is where I want it.” He listened to Remin’s slow, soft breathing. “I’ve let Prince Orinakin know that something of a scintillating nature may be happening in the courtyard this afternoon during your lunch. So that anyone who might be interested will know to take a look, and anyone who doesn’t want to see can easily avoid it.” Remin tensed against him. The wind blew lightly through Remin’s hair, toying with it. Tano kissed Remin’s neck, inhaling the faint scent of incense. “Is he there?” Remin’s voice was layered with emotion. Curiosity, arousal, eagerness, uncertainty, anticipation. Smiling, Tano kissed Remin’s ear. “I don’t know,” Tano murmured, drawing his fingers down Remin’s naked, tense forearm. “That’s part of the fun.” Remin made a low, breathy noise and met his eyes. “And the belas?” He liked what he saw in Remin’s eyes. The nervousness was gone now; Remin was turned on, expectant. “You’re out in the courtyard, Remin. Anyone can come by. You can’t control who sees you.” Slowly, he pushed the dressing gown off of Remin’s shoulders, letting it fall back, fall open. “You’re not in control of this at all anymore.” Kudorin blinked suddenly, sitting up straighter on Xio Voe’s lab table. Xio Voe’s gaze cut to him sharply, an alert question silent on the air. Laughing, Kudorin waved Xio Voe back to work. “It’s nothing. That was just the sensation of a dozen belas seeing Remin naked again for the first time in years.”

Tano, like anyone else, was limited by his own body’s mechanics. If he wanted to move from standing upright to stretching out in the grass, he had to get there by a series of perfectly regular, occasionally awkward movements. But Remin, no, Remin didn’t move like anyone else. Remin was all grace and strength and flexibility, all sinuous sensuality, easing down to the grass as if being invited into a lover’s embrace. Naked in the grass, Remin looked like an artist’s vision of the splendor of nature, like an erotic fantasy, like some wonderful seduction. Just bare skin and green grass, Remin’s body long and slender and masculine and aroused, Remin’s hair rippling over the grass, impossibly golden. Tano wanted to touch him, had to touch him, and knelt right beside him, putting a hand on his side. Remin’s fingers caught at his shorts, skimmed up his chest, luring him in, and the wicked laughter in Remin’s eyes made him smile. He leaned over Remin and they kissed, enjoying each other, enjoying the moment. As Remin’s hands guided him closer, he stretched out over Remin, soaking up the pleasures of Remin’s kiss, Remin’s embrace, Remin’s body under his hands. Remin was purely in the moment, arching up beneath him, moaning in blissful arousal, thighs falling open at his touch. Tano had never actually had sex outside before, but this was exactly how he’d dreamt that it could be, open, natural, relaxed, easy. Just this once, though, maybe it should be a little more complicated. Rising up onto his knees, he crawled up Remin’s body a little. Remin’s tongue found his nipple and he moaned, faltering, feeling sharp twinges of pleasure sing from the point of contact down to his groin. He leaned forward, and Remin’s mouth was on his abdomen now, licking, sucking. His right hand cupped Remin’s head to his stomach, fingers sliding through Remin’s hair as he groaned; his left hand patted across the grass, catching a small drawstring bag he’d hidden beneath a bush. Spilling a pair of handcuffs onto the ground, he reached down for Remin’s hand, tangling their fingers and drawing Remin’s arm upward. He felt it when Remin realized what he was doing, felt Remin’s quick spasm of tension. Remin’s arm tensed, Remin’s head tipping back as Remin looked up. Remin looked at him, and then Remin’s gaze flashed to the windows; Remin looked at him again and began to twist, trying to see what he was doing, trying to regain control of the situation. “Ssshhh.” Tano slid down Remin’s body again, crouching over him, touching his lips. “You don’t want to deny anyone a good show, do you?” Tano kissed him, light kisses, chaste, distracting. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To be on display like this? To be out here, in front of anyone, not sure who can see, not sure who’s there,

unable to ensure it, unable to prevent it? You wanted to put on a show,” he whispered, caressing Remin’s neck. “You wanted to show off. How beautiful you are, how sexy you are, how everybody wants you.” “You don’t have to cuff me,” Remin argued. “It’s useless, anyway, I’ll just get free.” “No, we agreed. You’ll let me do it, and you won’t try to wriggle out of it too soon.” Licking his way to Remin’s ear, he whispered, “You wanted this. You asked me for it.” When he bit Remin’s earlobe, Remin shuddered. “Let me give it to you.” Remin hadn’t done this in a while. He’d used to do it all of the time, but that had been years ago, and he hadn’t realized how nervous he’d be about getting into it again. The courtyard had used to be his sexual playground. There was plenty of space, and it was a great setting, picturesque, with a lot of easy flow as people came in and out. It was even better, now, with the pool and stream, and he’d fantasized a lot about having sex out here again, playing games, pinning Tano down against the grass. And now it was happening, now he was here, with Tano, and he wanted to roll around with Tano, lusty, passionate, getting off, having fun, leaves in his hair and grass stains on his knees and Tano’s dick up his ass. But it had been a long time, and he’d been a different person then. He hadn’t been the royal high priest then. Remin had no sexual shame, but he had cultivated a great sense of personal dignity, and he wasn’t so sure about this. His vision of it had been amazing, sexy, hot, but not all fantasies were meant to become realities. Sex with Tano, sex in the courtyard, sex in front of the belas, great, yes, those were terrific things, he wanted as much of those as possible. But the thought of Bade watching made him feel like he’d been caught exposing himself in a temple, made him want to yank his robes back down and turn away. He didn’t have his robes on. He was naked. And Tano was about to handcuff him to a bush. Tano kissed his neck and he tipped his head back, a sigh of pleasure escaping his lips. Tano was so good to him, so good for him; he ran his hands over Tano’s back, enjoying the feel of Tano against his body, Tano’s firm, muscular back under his palms. His sex life and his public life weren’t united. What he did sexually had no bearing on his ability to rule Orina Anoris. But he didn’t know if Bade understood that. And he didn’t want Bade to see him differently after this. Didn’t want Bade to think of him as less of a ruler, less of a priest. But maybe Bade wasn’t watching.

Or maybe Bade was watching, and liked it. He’d heard some rustling among the bushes, heard some whispering, heard some happy groaning; the belas were nearby, watching, and he loved that, wanted them to see everything. He didn’t trust himself to be near them, to see them, and not grab them, drag them close, go too far; but he wanted to share this with them, and it turned him on to think of their eyes on him, to think of them looking, enjoying the show, getting off on it. Maybe Bade wasn’t scandalized. Maybe Bade wasn’t watching at all, or maybe Bade was watching every minute of it, and liking it. Maybe Bade had that hot, fascinated look, the one he got when Remin leaned too close for too long, the one he got when Remin’s hand lingered on his arm or brushed his thigh, the one he got when he saw more of Remin’s skin than he’d expected to. Remin had used to hate it when guys looked at him like that, because he couldn’t do anything about it, but with Bade it was different, because Bade would never try anything, Bade would never tempt him, Bade would never go too far or let him go too far, either. Bade thought that he was sexy, and Bade loved him, and maybe, maybe… He couldn’t hop up and explain himself. He couldn’t arrange and control the situation. He just had to trust Bade, trust Orinakin, trust Tano, trust the gods. Opening his eyes, Remin exhaled, feeling free, feeling ready. Tano grinned at him, and the sun warmed him, and he heard belas whispering just out of sight. Running his hands over Tano’s chest, he gave Tano one of his mildly flirtatious, mildly seductive looks, and watched Tano fall in love with him all over again. “You don’t really need to tie me up, do you?” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the hard points of Tano’s nipples. “I’m not dangerous.” Tano laughed, kissing him. “You absolutely are, and you know it.” Remin cooperated with him for the first arm, and Tano closed the first cuff easily. Tano looped the cuffs around a few hearty stems of the bush, a sturdy spot Remin couldn’t escape from without real effort. They got caught up in making out for a while, and by the time he tried to cuff Remin’s other wrist, he was panting and rock-hard and clumsy with horniness, and Remin was squirming around under him, trying to evade his grasp. Remin was flexible and wily, but Tano pinned him down, kissing his inner elbow and biting at his muscular upper arm and locking the cuff around his wrist. Groaning, Remin writhed some more. “I can get free any time I want,” he panted. His cheeks were red and the way he tossed his head made him look defiant. “But you aren’t going to, because you agreed,” Tano pointed out, fondling his nipples. “Praise the gods, you’re beautiful.”

“You can’t hold me to that. We were joking, it was just, unh, conversation.” Remin arched, moaning, as Tano caressed his chest. “Oh, lower, lower.” He wasn’t going to do as Remin asked, because he was in charge. He wasn’t going to do the distinct opposite of what Remin asked, because, again, he was in charge; he wouldn’t let Remin manipulate him. So he kept his hand right where it was for a moment, then let his touch drift left. Remin was an exquisitely wellformed man, and Tano relished any opportunity to look at him, to touch him. At the moment, Remin couldn’t distract him by moving around too much, and he could touch - - generally - - wherever he liked. This had been a brilliant idea; he was going to have to tie Remin up more often. “I can hold you to it.” He stroked Remin’s ribcage, feeling the quick heaving of Remin’s breaths. “What kind of world would this be if I couldn’t trust your word? You’re going to have to stay right where I put you. In fact, what do you think, maybe you should face consequences if you escape too soon. I’ll have to spank you,” he decided. “Ungh, Tano.” Remin squeezed his eyes shut, biting into his lower lip. He seemed unaware that his hips were rolling in a fluidly sexual pattern, fucking the air. “I guess you won’t be going anywhere for a while,” he observed, running his fingers down to Remin’s hip. Remin gasped, twisting away from his touch, and he did it again, grinning. “I would fuck you for a while, but that’ll have to wait for later. It’s not fair to deprive you of fun, though.” Reaching into the bag, he pulled out two dildos, one long and slim, one shorter but much thicker. “Which one do you want?” Maybe at the question, maybe at the flurry of muffled noise from the belas peering out from behind trees just out of Remin’s sight, Remin opened his eyes. With a look at the dildos, Remin licked his lips, hunger flickering across his face. “What are you going to do with it?” “This one,” Tano decided, setting the thicker one aside. Leaning over Remin, he gave the longer dildo a friendly lick and touched it to Remin’s lips. “Open up.” Mmm, it was, “Ah, ah, mmmf,” such a good day to be alive. Moaning happily as he sucked, Remin tilted his head for more of the dildo, humming as Tano pulled it away and then slid it back in, deeper. Tano worked the dildo like an expert, giving him just what he wanted, making it just what he needed. Something about being outside, the fresh air, the great expanse of blue sky above, felt like freedom. He could never make enough noise to fill all of that wide, open space, so he got as loud as he wanted to, sending his moans of lusty abandon ring across the courtyard.

Tano had a hand on him, pressed just above his pelvis, holding him in place, pushing his hips down, but he couldn’t stop moving. Writhing, arching, he moved with the hot pulses of arousal zipping through his body, luxuriating in the pleasure rippling through him, trying to express it, to let it out. He wanted to touch himself, wanted to reach for Tano, but his hands were bound, caught above his head. He jerked against the cuffs but didn’t pull too hard, didn’t resist hard enough to get free. Tano wanted him like this, wanted him held captive this way, and it wasn’t unbearable yet, wasn’t too much for him. He recognized the sounds from nearby, the slapping of flesh, the happy moans and thrilled muttering. The belas were watching, were getting off, were fucking each other, and the sounds of sex only turned him on more, made him want it, made him hungrier for it. Sucking fervently, he moaned Tano’s name around the dildo, bucking under Tano’s hand. He wished that he were sucking on Tano’s dick, Tano’s sexy, hard dick. Tano penetrated his mouth shallowly for a moment, teasing his lips with the head of the dildo, and Remin licked lewdly at the crown, smirking at Tano. “Gods above,” Tano said, “I can’t take it.” Snatching the dildo away, he shifted forward, kneeling with his knees by Remin’s hips and his shins across Remin’s thighs. One hand clamped firmly over Remin’s eyes. What was he doing? His world narrowed to blackness, Remin tried to turn his face, tried to lift his head. Tano pushed him down, stilling him, and groaned heavily as if something had just felt really, really good. Nostrils flaring, Remin struggled, and a stem snapped as he yanked against the bush. “Ahh, hhh, oh, stop it,” Tano panted, holding him down. “Oh, Remin, ah, ah…” Tano was jacking off. Fuck, gods above, he could hear it, Tano’s heavy breathing, Tano’s quiet, agonized, blissful moaning, that slapping sound, Tano was masturbating. Groaning, fiercely turned on and furious at being denied participation, Remin thrashed under him. He wanted to see it, he had to see, he had to touch it and, yes, he had to suck it, it was Tano’s and he wanted it and“Unh, stop, stop,” Tano said, sounding desperate, sounding so close, “I’m going to come, I’m, oh, ah-ah, ah, ah! Ah! Oh!” There was a sharp, explosive moan, then a low, anguished, ecstatic grunting sound as wetness splattered across Remin’s chest. Yes, yes, Tano had come on him! Thrilled, Remin arched, wanting to see it, wanting to touch it, wanting more of it. “Oh, gods above, Remin.” Panting, Tano braced a hand - - wet, a wet hand, Tano’s hand was slick was cum - - on his chest. “Hold still, hold, gods above. Give me a second.” No, he wasn’t going to hold still, he-

“Oh.” Tano sounded as if he’d just remembered something, but Remin didn’t care about that, Remin had to get free. He was going to give Tano five more seconds, and then - - oh. He felt Tano’s wet fingers pushing between his lips. Momentarily pacified, he licked at Tano’s fingers, his tongue snaking out in search of more. The intimacy, the taste of cum, the sense of penetration, it mimicked what he needed most, and he undulated, moaning in pleasure, spreading his thighs. “Remin.” Tano’s voice was calmer now, quieter, and Remin grunted around Tano’s fingers, sucking harder. “If you get free, we’re not going to have any more fun. I mean, spanking you would be a lot of fun, but it would just be that, and then we’d have to stop. But if you’re patient, and you stay where you are, then we c-c-can have a lot of other fun t-t-together. Are you listening to me, or just, shit, Remin.” Tano’s breathing was ragged and he’d started stammering through his words. Licking his fingers, Remin sucked at his knuckles, teeth nipping ever so gently at his thumb. With Tano’s other hand still over his eyes, Remin couldn’t see Tano’s hand, but he didn’t have to look at what he was doing; his tongue knew exactly what it liked. “Shit, hold on, just, wait.” When Tano’s hand lifted, Remin’s eyes snapped open. Tano had his back turned and was quickly buttoning up; Remin neatly worked a hand free - - and froze as what Tano had said finally hit his brain. If he stayed put, he’d get more. If he broke free, it would stop. He didn’t want it to stop. He wanted more. Curling his fingers in the branches, he licked his lips and tried to look innocent. Tano turned back around, bright-eyed, smiling. So handsome. So good to him. Heart pounding, Remin smiled back. “Hmm.” Tano’s fingers drifted through the streaks of cum on Remin’s chest. Remin shivered at his touch, turned on, exhilarated at the idea of being caught but even more excited at the idea of getting away with it, of getting more. “I guess it’s not fair for me to take a turn and not let you have one.” Had the belas noticed what he’d done? What if they gave him away? No, they wouldn’t; they didn’t want this moment to end any sooner than he did. Remin gave Tano one of his favorite come-and-get-it looks, confident and sly. “What are you going to do to me?” “I might.” Tano’s touch circled a nipple, not quite touching it, brushing so close that Remin’s skin prickled. “I might let you have one hand free.”

Shit. “You can’t get me off yourself?” Remin asked, and undulated, rolling his hips, dragging Tano’s attention downward. With a breathless curse, Tano leaned in, kissing Remin’s stomach, hands smoothing hotly over Remin’s thighs. Moaning, because it really did feel good, Remin hastily felt around, slipping the cuff back around his wrist, praying that Tano didn’t hear the click as it latched. Looking down and seeing Tano’s face so near to his groin sent a thick jolt of need through him and he groaned, locking his thighs around Tano’s ribcage. Okay, yes, now, “Uncuff me, uncuff me, Tano, now, fuck.” Lurching upward, Tano kissed him, hand sliding up his arm, tongue stroking into his mouth. Remin crossed his ankles, trying to trap Tano against him, trying to grind up against Tano’s body, but Tano shoved him down, holding him against the ground. With an angry, breathless sound of frustration, Remin kissed Tano harder, biting at Tano’s lips, feeling Tano’s fingers fumble across the cuff. A metallic click and the cuff was loose. Jerking his hand free, Remin reached down his own body. Shoving his thighs apart, Tano crawled down his body, kissing his hipbone. Oh, praise the gods, yes. Rubbing his feet over Tano’s hips, Remin gripped his erection, masturbating with quick, efficient strokes. He didn’t want to be teased, he just wanted to come, and as he jacked his dick he stared down to where Tano’s head was buried between his thighs. Tano’s mouth was on his inner thigh, Tano’s tongue dragging wetly across his skin, licking him, fuck, fuck, right beside his balls. No one had touched Remin there in so long, no one, gods above, Tano, Tano’s mouth, he could feel, so close, so dangerous, so good, warm and wet and, gods above, suction, yes. Gasping out incoherent praise, Remin felt a hot jolt of ecstasy rip through him just as his hand pulled and Tano’s tongue licked right along the crease of his thigh. He came with a jubilant cry, shuddering, his hips jerking up against his hand. Anoha Ilanosa. Remin sank against the grass, breathlessly giddy. Gods above, that had been good. Grinning foolishly at the sight of Tano, it took him a moment of kissing to realize what was wrong. “You,” he said, surprised by how shaky and happy his voice sounded. “Me?” Tano asked, dropping light kisses at the corner of his mouth. Tano looked very pleased, so handsome, and Remin kissed him again. Remembering that he had a hand free, Remin brought it to the back of Tano’s neck, holding Tano in place for more kisses. “You. Stay down there,” he ordered, pushing Tano’s head down.

Ever obedient - - Tano was always so obedient, so well-behaved, so cooperative, except for those moments where he was frustratingly and determinedly disobedient, and that was one of Remin’s favorite things about him, how consistent and contradictory Tano was at the same time - - Tano slid down, kissing his hipbone. “Sure. Use this for me.” Picking up the fat dildo from the grass, Tano sucked it all the way to the base before lifting off of it and handing it to him. “Oh, gods above,” Remin whispered as Tano pushed back Remin’s knees, tilting his hips up. Rubbing Norisa’s fur, Desin smiled at the noisy rumble of her purring. “You’ve been such a good girl all day.” “I’ve been good all day,” Sebado said, leaning against the wall with a grin, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you going to pet me, too?” Desin smirked, nudging Sebado’s thigh with his own. “You’re not furry enough.” Chuckling, Sebado nudged him back. “I am where it counts.” With a laugh, Desin opened the door. Aw, shit, he’d almost forgotten. “Stay here for a second. I have to check on something.” Sebado gave him an inquisitive look but nodded, unconcerned. “I can wait.” Trusting Sebado to stay put, Desin carried Norisa into his apartment. If Remin and Tano were out there - - they couldn’t possibly be, not still - - he couldn’t just invite Sebado in. But it would only take him a moment to wash up and change, and while he did, he could let Norisa roam on her own. He was a step away from the door to the courtyard when he reached for the handle and bumped into Kudorin instead. Startled, he stayed put - - he was standing right up against Kudorin, but it felt fantastic to be this close. “Can I help you?” “You can’t go out there,” Kudorin said, taking Norisa from him. Norisa snuggled right up against Kudorin’s shoulder with a loud, satisfied purr. “You’ll interrupt them.” Seriously? “They’re still out there?” He peered around Kudorin’s shoulder, scanning the courtyard for - - whoa. Yeah, they were still out there. Shit, Tano had Remin chained up to a bush? And Remin was staying there? A bunch of belas were clustered off to one side, watching from behind bushes and trees, fucking and going down on each other, positioned just where Remin would have to twist and crane to get a good look.

It was just like before. Remin, fucking in the courtyard. Having a grand time and not caring who knew it. Desin grinned, stepping back. “Looks fun.” “I’ll take care of Matanori’s daughter,” Kudorin said. Norisa was batting at Kudorin’s long, shiny earrings. “Go have fun with Sebado.” “Okay.” Desin kissed him and took another peek at Remin and Tano. At the belas. He was surprised at how well Tano seemed to have the situation under control. Remin knew the belas were there, didn’t he? And he wasn’t chasing them around the courtyard? What had Tano done to keep him chained to that bush? “You didn’t do anything to those handcuffs, did you?” Kudorin laughed. “No.” The way Kudorin’s eyes sparkled with happiness seemed to brighten the whole room. “Tano did something to Remin’s heart.” With a sigh of contentment, Tano relaxed on Remin’s body, covering Remin’s side. He felt so good about the world, so at bliss, that he could’ve hung in that moment forever. A grunt, a snap of wood, a rustle of leaves. A jingle of metal. Remin’s hands smoothed over his hair, one settling on his shoulder, one caressing his face. Tano grinned. “It’s a good thing that no one’s ever going to have to arrest you.” Raising his head, he kissed Remin, feeling peace and joy bubble warmly in his chest. “Thank you for staying as long as you did.” Swiftly, Remin rolled him, on top, pinning him down, deft and strong and giving him an enchanting, rewarding smile. “Thank you for such a superlative experience.” It felt good to be held down, to have Remin astride him, so Tano didn’t bother to try to move. “I hate to leave you, I’d rather poke myself in the eye, but I have to make King Xio Voe’s dinner. I thought that you might be hungry again after this, so I have some snacks waiting, and I’ll send them to your office.” Remin’s head tilted to one side. “You made snacks?” Of course that was the part that caught Remin’s attention. Absolutely adoring him, Tano grinned. “Yes, I made snacks. For you. I’ll send them to your office if you let me go.” Not that he wanted to go - - again, jabbing himself in the eye would be better - - but his service to King Xio Voe was one of the most important things in his life. A slow, considering look. In a gradual withdrawal, Remin released his wrists, sitting back. “Next time I see you, I want you to lick me again.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have to think twice about agreeing to that. He knew exactly where Remin wanted it, too. “I hope that the next time we meet, it isn’t in the throne room or anything.” As he sat up, Remin kissed him, and he kissed Remin back, deeply, threading his fingers through Remin’s hair. They’d just shared something incredible, something as perfect and hot and wonderful as Remin himself, and Tano didn’t know how anyone who’d ever had sex with Remin before had managed to walk away. When they finally broke apart, panting, Remin said, “I love you so much,” in a breathless, grateful, unbearably seductive voice, and Tano kissed him again, again, and again. Watching Tano leave the courtyard, Remin smiled to himself. Breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes, tilting his face upward, feeling Akanoti’s love pour down over him. A light breeze cooled his skin, and he reached down, hooking a finger into the handcuffs, eyeing them with interest. He couldn’t explain, even to himself, what Tano had done for him today. Not fully. He felt whole. Healed. Integrated. As if the nineteen-year-old Remin he’d left behind had finally found a comfortable home inside the royal high priest he’d become. They’d been at war with each other for years, quarreling, stifling each other, trying to jostle for position in his life. Never entirely accepting each other, always wary about how the other might react. He didn’t have to be all of one or all of the other. He didn’t have to measure out parts of himself, limiting, restraining, policing. He knew what was appropriate. He knew what he wanted, and what he needed, and how to get them, and when. Remin felt as if he could trust himself. And he knew that it was okay that, once in a while, he wouldn’t be able to trust himself. And that he’d recognize that moment when it came. Rising, he stretched, tossing his hair. Snacks awaited him. Tano’s snacks. He’d take a shower, and he’d get back to work, and he’d confidently handle life as it came to him. A flurry of whispers; belas caught at each other, covering themselves, sharing quick looks as he approached. Tepeni stepped forward first, reading Remin’s expression and smirking. The two of them shared a knowing look, and then he just stood there for a moment, his gaze raking Tepeni’s body, admiring what he saw. Yes, Tepeni was every inch as gorgeous as he’d remembered. “Prince Remin.” Tepeni’s voice was soft with insinuations and mocking laughter. “Thank you ever so much for the show.”

He didn’t step closer; he wasn’t ready to be touched, and he knew that. But he liked being this near them, getting to look, being looked at in return. He leaned in, just a bit, and Tepeni leaned in the rest of the way, and their lips met, just for a moment, just enough to send excitement racing down his spine. Licking his lips, he dropped the handcuffs into Tepeni’s hand. “You’re always welcome.” Turning, he strolled away, naked, confident, smiling. A moment of personal triumph was to be celebrated. He knew that Kudorin thought so, too, and that probably explained the wildflowers growing all over his apartment. Tano wanted to go dancing. Wanted to roll Remin across a bed, laughing. He felt good, strong, victorious, ready to climb mountains and race across deserts. Remin hadn’t asked him to deliver the vision, but he’d wanted to. He’d had to try. Remin’s happiness was important to him, was everything to him, and it had been such a specific fantasy, he’d burned with the hope that he could make it come true. He’d tried to organize it the way Remin had described it, and he’d asked Prince Rini to talk to Prince Orinakin for him, to talk to the belas. He’d tried to be obvious without being specific, so that it would be clear what would take place without compromising Remin’s privacy. And it had worked. Remin had loved it. When he’d left, Remin had been so vibrant, so happy, he’d felt weak in the knees but oddly powerful. It made his heart pound, to see Remin light up with that pure inner glow. He felt now, more than ever, ready to be Remin’s husband. Qualified to be Remin’s husband. If he could make Remin that happy, then he was doing something right. He’d made Remin enjoy just being alive today, and he could do it again. After the first course of dinner was sent on its way, Tano grabbed a moment alone in a corner of the kitchen to thank the gods. He felt privileged to be entrusted with the heart and happiness of a child of the gods. To be able to touch the life of their royal high priest. It was a sacred gift he wouldn’t take for granted. His grandmother had always said that people shouldn’t expect special recognition for goodness and decency. Being a good person as an effort to bargain for blessings from the gods wasn’t, she’d said, being good at all. She’d told him that the reward he’d get for being honest and well-meaning and kind was simply the knowledge that he was a decent human being, and that should be enough incentive for anyone.

It really seemed true, at least to Tano. He’d strived to make Remin happy, and now Remin was happy. That was what he’d wanted, and that was what he’d received, and that was the best reward of all. Taking a sip of wine, Anosanim glanced along the dinner table to Bade. Had he…? He didn’t look any different, but that was a giveaway in and of itself, wasn’t it? Bade, of all people, would look different, if he’d actually, finally, seen Remin in the courtyard. A bela might be suave enough to act unaffected, but dear sweet Bade was so easily scandalized, he’d still be blushing and stammering all through dinner if he’d witnessed anything. He wasn’t looking at Remin at all. Because he was embarrassed? Because he’d seen something? Because he’d been too shy? He kept looking at Orinakin, though; he and Orinakin had been exchanging telling little glances all evening, and that had to mean something. Catching Talin’s gaze, Anosanim wondered what Talin thought about it. Talin glanced at Bade, then at Anosanim. A slight contraction of his eyebrows was enough; he wasn’t sure, either. And Talin was expert at reading people. Goodness, this was going to drive Anosanim to distraction! But he couldn’t very well just ask. Could he? Rini had to know. As soon as dinner was over, he escaped to the family wing and knocked on Orinakin’s door. No one answered. Irritated, he tried the door. Locked! “He locked the door!” Amazed, Rini stared at it. He felt personally insulted. Orinakin never locked doors! What had - - what was this for, Bade’s privacy? Bade never locked people out! “Maybe they want to be alone,” Selorin suggested. “It’s also possible that they’re not even in there.” Selorin! Whatever Bade knew, Orinakin knew. Whatever Orinakin knew, Selorin knew. “Did Bade watch?” “Watch?” Selorin asked, unbraiding his hair.

Desin might be able to play stupid once in a while, but it was ridiculous on Selorin. “Watch Remin, did he watch Remin? In the courtyard,” Rini explained impatiently. “Fucking Tano.” Selorin quirked an eyebrow. “That sounds like something you should ask Bade.” “Bade locked the door! I’m asking you.” Shrugging, Selorin rubbed his scalp. “How Bade spends his afternoon hours isn’t at my discretion.” He had to push Selorin into telling him the truth. Selorin wouldn’t outright lie to him, so he’d just have to nudge Selorin into a corner. “Do you know? Whether he did or not?” A lazy little smile. “Maybe.” Argh! “Come on!” He pushed Selorin physically, with his hands, this time. “Just tell me! It’s not a secret. Bade would tell me himself if I could talk to him.” “Then ask him when you see him.” Kissing his forehead, Selorin nudged him aside. “I’ll talk to you later, Jekari’s waiting for me.” Rini’s brothers were the most annoying people in the world. And the belas didn’t know, he’d already asked them. Who else - - Kudorin? Kudorin would know, but if no one else wanted to tell him, Kudorin would take their side. Tano. Tano might know. Tano had been closer to the window than the belas were. He must’ve seen Bade there. By the time Rini got to the kitchens, Remin was there, sprawled on one side across a countertop, dipping berries into some white sauce and licking his fingers. His official robes were hung neatly on a hook by the wall, and he was moaning happily. Wow, he must’ve had a good day. Passing by Remin, Rini went to Tano, who bowed and looked happy to see him and called him by his title and offered him dessert. Waving away all of that, Rini asked, “Did Bade see you?” Remin chuckled, all sexy and low in his throat. Tano’s gaze zoomed right over to Remin like he’d never seen anything so fascinating in all of his life. Like he was oblivious, Remin just ate another piece of fruit and said, “Mmm, I hope so,” like that was an idea he was going to linger over for a while. Okay. Rini poked Tano until Tano finally, finally dragged his gaze back from Remin. When Tano realized that Rini was still in the room, Rini asked, again, “Did Bade see you?”

Tano looked baffled, like he couldn’t figure out why Rini would ask. “Oh, I don’t know. He hasn’t said anything to me about it, but I haven’t had a chance to talk with him. I didn’t look, to check. That was part of the fun of it, not knowing, not being sure. If he was watching, I hope that he enjoyed it. I don’t know if he’s much of a voyeur, or not? Some people get a lot more excitement out of it if they can join in.” Really?! No one knew? And everyone who knew wasn’t telling? That was complete bullshit. “I helped you! I set this up!” Rini protested. “If anyone gets to know, I should, not Selorin!” Tano still looked confused. “I’m sure that he’ll tell you, if you ask him. Or,” like it was a completely new idea, “would that embarrass him? Because of his culture? Maybe we shouldn’t bring it up. I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable.” “I’m uncomfortable!” Rini exclaimed. Tano hesitated, scraping bits of potato into a pot. “Would you like to watch next time?” What? That wasn’t - - “I’ll watch you any time,” Rini said. He’d love to see Tano in action. “That’s not really the point.” With a languid sigh, Remin rolled onto his stomach, pushing a plate in Tano’s direction. “Mmm. I want more.” With wide, bright eyes and a hopeful smile, Tano abandoned Rini, hurrying to do Remin’s bidding. Like Remin’s urges and hungers could be satisfied, anyway. Scowling, Rini left the kitchen.

Part 283 On his way back from the clinic, Remin stopped by the Royal House of Art. Blessing people as he passed, he went up to Talin’s office. Standing beside his desk, Talin was staring down at a jumble of gemstones and wires. He wore a look of such keen focus, Remin hung back, waiting. Alanohi’s presence was strong in the room, and Talin blinked once, quickly, looking as if the gems suddenly held great meaning. Then Talin looked up, finally noticing Remin. “Oh,” he said, and turned, walking into his studio. With a glance at the gems, wondering what Talin had visualized, Remin followed.

“Here,” Talin said, removing cloths to reveal a series of paintings stacked along the wall. Rich, vivid color filled the room, bright tones, harmonious and vibrant. “I’m not finished.” He shrugged, studying the canvases and scratching his head. “Nisutalin.” Remin was stunned. He hadn’t realized what it had meant to ask Talin for these paintings. His thought process had been simple; he and Tano were to be married, Tano would share his apartment, it would be good to make his rooms feel more like their rooms, Tano had appreciated the paintings of food in the Jacacean realistic style before, Talin might be willing to lend his genius to a wedding gift, and so, he’d asked Talin for a few paintings of food in the Jacacean realistic style. But Talin was so much more than a skilled painter. Talin’s work always caught reality starkly, unerringly, with raw, poignant honesty. A bird, a busy street, the back of a hand, Talin painted them precisely, exactingly, as they were, capturing each detail, each line of shadow, each imperfection, whether beautiful, ugly, or frankly mundane. And now he had honed in, magnified, displayed reality in a whole new way. The trick to Jacacean realism was to take one bit of natural beauty - - a leaf, a stone, an eye - - and paint it with great detail and precision. Every single stroke was made with great care. There was to be no interpretation, no artistic flair, only deliberate, scientific recreation. Jacacean realism, in Talin’s hands, was breathtaking. Remin found himself staring at a corner of a slice of bread with the sensation that he’d never truly seen bread before. How had Talin done this? To recreate reality so exactly? The colors. The textures. The minute imperfections. Circling the inside of an onion, lines wobbled delicately, slightly, an evocative reminder of the natural variation of life. The bold brightness of a lemon defied Remin’s gaze, but he marveled at how Talin had painted the uneven surface of the rind, the wetness of the fruit, the tender pulp. “Anoha Alanohi.” Remin made the sign to the gods, staring in disbelief at a sprig of thyme. The intricate detail. “How did you do this? How does your mind catch it so exactly? How do your hands recreate it?” Talin shrugged. “I stared at it through a magnifying glass. Then I sketched it a few times. Then I stared at it some more. The hardest part is deciding how close in to get, and still leave it recognizable. And magnifying it enough to see enough detail as I wanted, I had to borrow some lenses from Xio Voe for that.” Xio Voe. “Has he seen these? Does he know that you’ve painted this?” “No. I didn’t mention it.”

They had to show him. Xio Voe had a good eye for art, a genuine appreciation of Talin’s skill, and imperial pride in the historic influence of Jacacean realism. “You’re not finished?” Remin asked. “I thought about doing a couple more. More gold. Honeycomb, maybe.” Remin hugged him. “Thank you for sharing your gift with us, Nisutalin. What the gods have blessed you with, you have used to bless us. I am as proud of you as the sun is warm.” Talin hugged him back. “I’d paint anything for you.” “Then you seek my professional opinion?” Xio Voe asked, following Rini through the palace. “You’re the best Jacacean artist we know,” Rini said. “Remin stares at religious art all day, but he isn’t exactly an expert in Jacacean techniques. If he’s going to make a big investment and buy a wedding gift, he wants to do it right. C’mon in here.” Leading the way, Rini entered one of the more public rooms of the palace. The paintings stood on easels near the windows. Remin stood near them, staring at them; Talin sat on the couch, bored. Anosanim was nowhere to be seen; they’d chased him out, not trusting him not to give it away. Xio Voe walked directly to the paintings and crossed his arms over his chest. “They’re nice, right?” Rini asked. “They are masterful.” Xio Voe turned to Talin. “You are to be congratulated. This is the finest artwork of this type I have seen.” What?! He’d only been in the room for a second! “How do you know it’s his?” Rini didn’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed. Xio Voe glanced at him before looking at the paintings again. “As I said, these paintings are the finest of their type. I am very familiar with the major works in the style of Jacacean realism. The greatest of the masterpieces come from extensive training. Anyone able to paint flawed reality so flawlessly has immense talent. A Jacacean artist able to outperform the lauded masters would be known to me. A foreign artist this skilled would not leave the work unsigned. You came to me with a blithe, simple tale without mentioning the artist’s name, yet typically you are fond of offering people their due praise, and you would be eager to point out an Anorian’s supremacy in a traditionally Jacacean field. Remin and I speak so often, it is odd that he would send you instead of speaking with me himself, unless he preferred your particular methods in this instance. You are, I believe, a much more cavalier liar than your older brothers.”

“Hey!” Rini glared first at Xio Voe, for saying it, and then Talin, for snickering at it, and then Remin, for not denying it. “More simply,” Xio Voe said, “this is some of the most powerful artwork I have been privileged to see. By virtue of its quality alone, I would assume it to be Nisutalin’s.” Rini grinned. He loved it when people complimented his brothers, and Xio Voe didn’t say stuff like that without meaning it. “Talin’s awesome, isn’t he? You should get him to paint one for you, so you can send it home and show them how it’s really done.” Remin shot him a look. Talin muttered, “Tactful, Extra, tactful.” “Talin’s level of skill is one to which artists aspire,” Xio Voe said. “His work is a source of inspiration. Just as another justice cannot be expected to make judgments with the accuracy of Selorin, another artist cannot be expected to produce paintings with the skill of Talin. While I might prefer for Jacacean farmers to demonstrate Ebutadesin’s skill in agriculture, I do not place that demand upon them.” “But you do admit that, after so much time and ‘extensive training,’ the best Jacacean realism comes from an Anorian painter,” Rini said. “What did you call it, Anorian supremacy?” “Yes. I do not mind conceding the point,” Xio Voe said. “While art is commonly considered subjective, I do consider Talin to have produced artwork of superior quality.” Plopping down beside Talin on the couch, Rini took a moment to gloat. “Right,” Talin said. “Anorians reign supreme when it comes to Jacacean realism, and Jacaceans reign supreme when it comes to math, science, engineer-” “That’s not fair,” Rini argued. “It’s not even true. Anosanim can do to engineering what you do to Jacacean realism. And I’ll bet you a box worth of jewelry that if you put Anosanim and Desin in a room together for five hours, they could out-math Xio Voe.” Talin grunted. “How big is the box?” Xio Voe spoke as if they hadn’t said anything; he’d probably been planning wars in his head and hadn’t heard a word. “If it does not interfere with your other tasks, I would be interested in commissioning a painting or two for my own purposes. Would you be averse to painting something viewed through a microscope?”

“I’ve never tried that,” Talin said slowly. “It would limit my ability to examine it from various angles, and I don’t know about the lighting, but I’d like to try it.” Then he shrugged. “And you’re the king, you get whatever you ask for.” In Nosupolis, Bade would’ve been too old to hang around the kitchens. It was all right for kids to run through the kitchens, and women had to oversee the servants, to make sure that everything ran smoothly, but adult men of royalty didn’t belong somewhere so common. In Orina Anoris, as usual, the situation was vastly different. Bade could go anywhere he pleased. Kitchens, restaurants, even inatunins. He’d even found that he liked being in Tano’s kitchen, because Tano was usually doing something interesting and was always happy to explain the process in detail. Tano didn’t just know recipes, he knew why ingredients went together and what they contributed, and he knew all sorts of techniques. Bade had always thought that cooking was just cutting things up, mixing them together, and heating them up, but Tano made it all artistic and scientific, and he wielded a knife with freakish precision. Entering Tano’s kitchen that afternoon, Bade brought along another chef. “Chef Pitok, may I present Chef Velmik.” Hairy, blond, and rugged, Velmik had been hired by an Anorian investor to come to Orikodisata to run a Nosupolin restaurant. Bade had gone with Orinakin, Selorin, and Rini to the restaurant’s opening a few weeks ago, and he’d loved the familiar taste of home, although he’d found the restaurant’s décor a little crude. “Chef Velmik! I’m so glad to meet you! I’ve heard such great things about your restaurant! May I offer you anything? A muffin, a sandwich, a drink?” “No, to thank you,” Velmik said, heartily pumping Tano’s hand. “I am to be grateful to meet the betrothed of the priest.” Tano’s face lit up. Bade had noticed that Anorians were always happy to meet foreigners, and seemed to find thick accents and clumsy Anorian more charming than annoying. “Thank you! Have you been in Orina Anoris long?” “No, the months were three,” Velmik said. “I hope that you enjoy your time here! And I hope that you won’t mind if I ask you about Nosupolin food. Prince Bade’s been doing his best to help me, and he’s been very generous with his time, but there’s still a lot that I don’t understand. Like the barigarn, Prince Bade describes the broth as very thick, like a stew? What are the traditional seasonings for it?” While Tano and Velmik conversed, Bade listened intently, asking questions, translating here and there to help them along. He enjoyed spending time with one

of his countrymen. As Anorian interest in Nosupolin culture continued, more and more Nosupolins passed through the country, and Bade had made himself available to them. They usually didn’t want anything, didn’t expect anything from him, were just eager to meet their own prince who’d married into this exotic foreign kingdom. He loved hearing their impressions of Orina Anoris, and tried to encourage them to be open-minded about Anorian culture. They were often sweltering and bewildered, as he’d once been, and frightened of Anorian gods. They were also completely disapproving and scandalized about Anorian clothing and habits; the word “obscene” came up a lot. Like some other Nosupolins, Velmik hadn’t been willing to pray for fire or water until after a lengthy conversation with Bade. Some of the awe and trepidation for Orina Anoris made visiting Nosupolins look at Bade differently; with his purple diamonds and relaxed laces and foreign husband, he was a little suspect, himself. But, having snagged the attention of the great Anosukinom, having re-introduced Nosupolis to the world, Bade was incredibly valuable to his people, and he had their humble respect, their gratitude, their admiration. He’d never imagined, before meeting Orinakin, how he could do this much for Nosupolis, how he could make a contribution, how he could earn the accolades his title provided for him. It was rewarding, now, to feel that he’d made a difference, and to learn about it in the tales and experiences of the Nosupolins he met here in Orina Anoris. The three of them had been talking for some time when Tano excused himself, needing to get back to work. As he walked them to the pantry door, he inquired about Velmik’s family. “I came to be here alone,” Velmik said. “My brother, it is too hot for him here. My sister, she is a chaste woman, this is not to be the country for her.” He glanced at Bade, blushing, and Bade, as good Nosupolin royalty, pretended not to have heard someone discussing a woman’s purity in front of him. “Oh, you aren’t married?” Tano asked. “No.” Velmik lowered his voice, blushing fiercely. “I am a single man.” Which was, Vade had informed Bade, how Nosupolins revealed themselves as gay in polite conversation. Growing up, Bade hadn’t spoken to commoners enough to know that sort of thing. “Oh.” Tano grinned at him. “Do you want to partner with me? This evening, maybe? I’ll have time after the royal family’s finished dinner.” While Velmik stared at Tano in absolute, disbelieving shock, Bade couldn’t figure out what in the world he was supposed to do. Orinakin would’ve known how to navigate the wide cultural gap to everyone’s satisfaction, but Bade wasn’t that

savvy. Velmik had been in the country for three months; he must’ve been propositioned before, and he must’ve figured out how to deal with it. Bade’s presence probably wasn’t helping matters, though. Bade didn’t know how often Nosupolins agreed to casual sexual encounters while standing in front of royalty, but it probably hadn’t happened for many generations. While Velmik was still gaping at Tano in stunned horror, Bade said, “You’ll excuse me, I must see to other responsibilities,” and got away from them as quickly as he could. Clearly, Tano had done something wrong. Prince Bade had just fled, and Chef Velmik was red as a beet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Maybe I misunderstood. It can be so tricky to figure out other cultures! When I was in Vafiance, for the first whole week I was there, I kept introducing myself to people, and they kept moving away from me like I’d insulted them. I couldn’t figure out what it was! I kept trying to say, ‘Hi, my name is Naritano,’ and they’d just recoil. It was terrible! I was like, oh no, does my breath smell, am I pronouncing it wrong, what’s going on? Finally, one of the supervisors told me that you never introduce yourself in Vafiance. You can talk to people, but formal introductions always come from a third person. What you’re supposed to do is go about your business, meeting people and interacting with them, and if they like you enough to be interested, they arrange for an introduction from a mutual acquaintance. There are all sorts of people in Vafiance who’ve known each other for years and never introduced themselves because they’ve never bothered. Even if you already know someone’s name, you don’t use it until you’ve been formally introduced. Can you imagine?” Velmik was less red now; he’d faded to a bright pink. “You are the betrothed. Of the great priest.” Oh, was that the problem? “Yes, we’re engaged. Sometimes we partner with men together, and sometimes I partner with men on my own. He knows all about it, he likes it. I’d never offer lustsex to someone else if I thought that he’d mind. We have plans to stay home tonight, and he suggested that I find someone to have lustsex with, and I thought that you might like to do it. We can do whatever you like, I don’t mind if you have certain preferences.” Velmik looked confused and dismayed. “The great priest is to be married to a slut?” “Yes,” Tano said. He was relieved at the confirmation that Velmik understood. “Do you want to have sex with me tonight? Prince Remin will be there to watch most of it.” Velmik rubbed his short, blond beard and frowned at Tano.

Tano waited for a reply. He hoped that Velmik would say yes. Tano had never had sex with someone like Velmik, someone so hearty-looking and hairy. He liked Velmik’s wide shoulders and heavy thighs and easy blush. He couldn’t wait for a good look at Velmik’s ass. He and Prince Remin had been talking about having sex outside of the palace and meeting partners in other locations, and he thought that Velmik would make a good candidate for a new setting. “I wish to be as the stallion,” Velmik said. “I do not wish to be as the mare.” He said it in soft, rushed words, glancing nervously towards Lo Ariside. Grinning, Tano said, “Okay.” That sounded like fun. “Meet me outside the royal stables tonight at moon crossing. We can do it however you like it.” After dinner, Orinakin entered Remin’s apartment to find Remin changing into casual pants. “Going somewhere?” Remin’s grin was delightfully mischievous. “Tano’s taking me out for dessert.” Enjoying Remin’s good mood, Orinakin found himself chuckling. “Yes, Extra mentioned it. A foreign delicacy, I’ve heard?” Remin pulled on a tank top. “You’re welcome to join us.” Orinakin did enjoy fucking Nosupolin men. “No, thank you. I just wanted to offer a few Nosupolin phrases you might find of use.” Slipping off a bracelet, Remin eyed Orinakin with interest. “The voices of all people find the ears of the gods. I’ve always wanted to ask you what Bade’s asking for when he starts shouting ‘narem, narem.’” Tano wasn’t sure at first that Velmik would show up. While he waited outside the stables, he flirted with a couple of the grooms, figuring that he could invite one of them to join him and Remin if Velmik didn’t make it. Then Velmik walked up, eyeing the grooms warily. Tano broke from the group to approach him, greeting him with a quick hug. “Thanks for coming.” “Here?” Velmik asked, glancing around the well-lit area. “Inside,” Tano said, taking his hand and leading him back into one of the empty stables. Barring the door, Tano gave Velmik a chance to look around. A few lanterns provided a nice glow over the nest of blankets over the straw on the floor. “Is there anything you want to clear up beforehand?” Tano asked, peeling out of his half-shirt and kicking off his sandals. “While Prince Remin’s here, I’ll leave my shorts on, but after he goes, we can do anything you’d like.”

Velmik moved in Tano’s direction, then stopped. “Where is the great priest?” “Here.” Out of the shadows, Remin stepped into the golden light. Barefoot, he was beautiful, tall and slender and strong, his hair flowing down his back in gorgeous golden ripples, his limbs long and muscular. He smiled, and Tano went right to his side, helplessly drawn to him. Flustered, Velmik bowed. “Don’t let my title make you nervous,” Remin said, sitting down comfortably at the edge of the blankets. “We’re all here to have a good time.” A noticeable bulge in Velmik’s pants drew Tano’s attention, and Tano smiled, happy with the anticipation of fondling it. Velmik stared at Remin for a moment, drinking him in, then tore his gaze away and asked Tano, “I am to be free to take liberties? I will take my pleasure as I choose?” “If I don’t like what you’re doing, I’ll just ask you to stop,” Tano said. “You know the difference between being rough and forcing someone against their will?” Frowning, Velmik nodded. “Great.” Smiling, Tano stepped closer, touching Velmik’s beard to satisfy his own curiosity. It was softer than he’d expected. “How do you want to start?” Velmik seemed unsure about Remin’s presence; he kept looking at Remin in quick, darting glances, as if he didn’t want to be caught looking, and then in long, wide-eyed stares, as if he couldn’t help it and wasn’t sure how to look away. The three of them sat on the blankets together, and Tano relaxed Velmik with a massage. Tano touched Velmik lightly, in a friendly fashion at first, then increasingly intimate, until Tano was unbuttoning and unlacing to reveal Velmik’s dense, muscular physique. Velmik was thick and hairy all over, with his chest hard with muscle, his legs strong and furry. His ass was generously padded, his erection long and curved. Seeing how hairy Velmik was made Remin reevaluate his assessment of Bade. Curious, he stroked the hair on Velmik’s back. At Remin’s touch, Velmik moaned. Liking that, Remin caressed him more, petting his back, touching his muscular, furry forearms. He started jacking off, making horny, grunting sounds, staring at Remin and panting. Remin was happy to be masturbated over, but there were other pleasures to be had, so he asked, “Do you want Tano to suck you off?” in Anorian and, “Tano? Mouth fuck?” in Nosupolin. Gasping, recoiling in shock, Velmik came on himself, shuddering and falling back as long ropes of cum spilled across the air.

Tano laughed, companionably rubbing Velmik’s thigh. “Sorry about that. I don’t think that royalty’s supposed to say those words. I guess Nosupolin royalty isn’t so open or forward about sex? Prince Bade’s always so polite.” “My fault,” Remin murmured, dragging a fingertip through the cum on Velmik’s stomach, then giving Velmik a mischievous look as he tasted it. Velmik held still as Remin went back for more. “Mmm. Let me clean that up for you,” Tano offered, moving in with lust in his eyes. He sucked Remin’s finger into his mouth, and Remin toyed with him, giving him a couple more fingers as he bobbed his head. As Remin withdrew, sitting back, Tano licked the cum from Velmik’s abdomen, tongue stroking across the thick mat of short, blond hair on Velmik’s stomach. Velmik moaned, still staring at Remin, and Tano took that as permission, licking downward, nuzzling Velmik’s thigh and mouthing his balls. Running his fingers through Tano’s hair, enjoying Tano’s enthusiastic groan of appreciation, Remin smiled at Velmik. Tano fondled Velmik, pushing, pulling, displaying Velmik for Remin, letting him see everything. In quiet, conversational Nosupolin, Remin said, “Your dick is very handsome. I hope that you will fuck Tano with the power of a thousand bulls.” Gasping, Velmik mumbled a few shocked curses. “Do you find him handsome?” Remin asked in Anorian. “Oh, yes, but you,” Velmik said. “You are made to be perfect.” Pleased, Remin smiled. “Thank you.” He kissed Velmik’s cheek, rubbing his nose against Velmik’s beard a little, enjoying the feel of it against his skin. “Let’s have fun with Tano.” He licked at Velmik’s ear, kissing it, kissing Velmik’s neck as Velmik panted and squirmed. “Do you want to slide your dick down his throat?” “Mmm.” Tano sucked Velmik’s thigh hard enough to leave a mark and released with a popping sound. “Yes, please, let me suck you dry.” “An interesting accomplishment,” Selorin said, taking a seat beside Bade on the couch. “Through your effort, Nosupolin citizens are now available for sexual dalliances with Anorian royalty.” “I was more focused on the political and economic opportunities,” Bade said. “I’m more focused on what will get me laid.” Swinging his feet up, Selorin rested them across Bade’s thighs. With a sigh, Bade looked down at Selorin’s feet.

Getting comfortable, Selorin wiggled his toes. Bade would never deny him. “Speaking of personal accomplishments,” Orinakin said, stepping behind Selorin to unbraid his hair. “Knowing dirty words has finally come in handy. I’ve been able to say, ‘I love the way your dick fills my ass,’ in every language in the world, for years now, but it so rarely does me any good. It’s nice to be able to put that to use for once.” “I love the way your dick fills my ass,” Selorin said, in Jacacean, as Bade began to rub his feet. He tried it in Lorbish, in Ilaeian, in Nosupolin. “Close,” Orinakin said. “That’s a direct translation, but if you’re a Lorbish commoner fucking a neighbor behind the barn, you’re going to say, ‘The gods set me on fire when your huge member pounds my hole.’ The real power of communication comes from knowing the intricacies of local dialects.” “What if it’s not huge?” Selorin asked. Bade frowned as if genuinely considering the question, but Orinakin pulled lightly at Selorin’s hair. “Someone who loves sexual flattery as much as you do knows the importance of a good compliment.” Straddling Tano’s back, Remin gripped Tano’s hair with one hand, guiding Tano’s head up and down on Velmik’s dick. Making hungry, grateful sounds, Tano slurped along with Remin’s rhythm, sucking noisily. Remin and Velmik knelt facing each other, Velmik’s wrists caught behind his back with his own belt. Remin’s free arm was wrapped around Velmik’s brawny shoulders, and he kissed Velmik lightly, brushing his lips across Velmik’s cheekbone, jaw, nose. He was telling Velmik what he wanted, what he liked, what he would’ve done to Velmik if they’d met only a few years earlier. His whispers came mostly in Anorian, but every once in a while he lapsed into Nosupolin, finding words on his tongue he’d never known. Panting, Velmik stared at him with wide blue eyes, absolutely transfixed. Whenever he took a kiss, Velmik kissed him back eagerly, making low, primal sounds of urgent lust. The rest of the time, Velmik moaned at him, unblinking, hips rocking mindlessly into Tano’s mouth. Licking lightly at the corner of Velmik’s mouth, Remin chuckled. “I hope that you’ll satisfy Tano for me. He loves a good, thorough pounding, and I like to see him happy. You’ll fill his ass so well with that big, sexy dick.” Raking his nails lightly over Velmik’s skin, he smiled, kissing Velmik again, tenderly. “You’ll make sure that he’s good and satisfied, won’t you? You’ll fuck him over and over and over, making him ride that gorgeous dick until he can’t take it anymore.” Groaning and nodding in agreement, Velmik shuddered, leaning towards Remin.

With a soft laugh, Remin nudged him back. “Not me. I’m only available to Tano’s hands. You’ll fuck him for me, won’t you?” Kissing Velmik again, Remin whispered, “Maybe a little roughly?” Staring at Remin as if he’d never seen anything so beautiful in all of his life, Velmik made a raw, helpless noise and came. “Ohhh, aannhh, oh oh ah!” On his knees, clinging to a thick wooden post, Tano cried out in gasping, ragged ecstasy. Velmik was thrusting into him in deep, slamming strokes that seemed to reverberate through him in bright, echoing explosions, each one bigger than the last, as if this were all leading up to one massive, cataclysmic burst of pleasure that would leave Tano in tiny little rapturous pieces all over the stable. He was on his knees, pressed against the pillar, hugging it, but Velmik’s strong hands on his hips gripped him, almost lifting him off of the ground. Tano loved being manhandled like this. Growling something in Nosupolin, Velmik shoved him down, and he dropped onto the blankets, hot and panting and desperate for more. Those hands were on him again, dragging him over, rolling him onto his back, pushing his knees up. He liked that, he knew what that meant, he wanted that, and he groaned, reaching for Velmik. Gripping Velmik’s muscular, hairy arms, he yanked Velmik closer, over him, and Velmik kissed him, pushing that thick, curved dick back inside him. Moaning, grunting in pleasure, Tano squirmed, biting at Velmik’s lips, his eyes closing as Velmik’s aim found just the right spot. Ah, ah, fuck. He was going to come again, he was going to come, ah, ah, “Right there,” he gasped, “yes, like that,” and then the first pulse of climax broke through him and he jerked, arching, gripping Velmik’s ass as pleasure burned through him. Sitting on a wooden bench, Remin gazed up at the moons. So close, so bright. He could’ve gone back into the palace, to jack off and wait for Tano, but he’d wanted to stay close. He’d moved far enough away that he couldn’t hear Tano’s resounding cries of pleasure anymore, but Tano would pass by him on the way back to the palace, and it felt good to be near. A soft breeze stirred his hair and the bench turned to marble. Rubbing his hands over the cool stone, he glanced over and smiled as Kudorin sat beside him. “Nice night,” Kudorin said. He had on a long, loose skirt and nothing else. His hair was back in a simple ponytail and his love swept through Remin in a calm, unending wave. “It is,” Remin agreed, leaning lightly against his shoulder.

One of the new grooms saw Kudorin, tripped over his own feet, and staggered against a stable door, staring. Murmuring a blessing, Remin made the sign of the gods. “You should introduce him to Tano,” Kudorin whispered. “He wants to be tied up and spanked, and he can’t find anyone he feels comfortable asking for it. If he doesn’t try it soon, it’s going to mess up his next relationship, and his next girlfriend is such a kind woman, I’d like to see her in a good, stable relationship before she meets the guy who’s going to break her heart.” “Tano needs to spank this guy to serve the will of the gods?” Kudorin shrugged. “It would be nice.” He was really cute, and spanking was an activity Remin could stick around to watch. Remin’s help might even come in handy, for the bondage. “I am always eager to do my part to please the gods,” Remin said smoothly, crossing his legs to cover his rising hard-on. “Is that what you came out here to talk about?” “No.” Kudorin put an arm around him, kissing his cheek. “I just wanted to spend some time with my beloved brother.” Smiling, feeling Kudorin’s love roll through him, bringing peace and light to his soul, Remin closed his eyes. “I love you.” He wasn’t sure that he’d said it aloud, wasn’t sure that his lips had moved, but he felt the words leave him, and he knew that Kudorin heard. Gods above. Tano rolled over and closed his eyes, taking a moment to thank the gods for such fantastic sex. They deserved his gratitude for the great sex he’d just had, and for sex in general, which really had been one of their best ideas. A terrifically valuable idea. Butterflies had been a nice concept, he had to admit, and strawberries had gone pretty well, but sex? Sex was probably the greatest idea in the universe, aside from the general concept of the universe or life itself. Tano pictured it like some sort of planning committee, the gods grouped around a conference table with maps and figures scattered before them. Someone proposed the idea of cows, and everyone laughed, and then someone brought up water, and they went with that one for a while, and then someone said, “I had this fantastic idea for something people can do together, in pairs or larger groups or sometimes by themselves. It’ll involve body parts that you can put together in all sorts of combinations, and if they do it right it’ll bring them the most intense ecstasy in the world, way better than that toe-stubbing thing you were talking about, which sounds stupid, if you really want to know. Oh, and I think that it could

work with that reproductive thing we were talking about, if you want to go ahead with that.” And from that simple idea had come the best thing in the world. Sex. He was sweaty and sore. He felt good, really good, happy and incredibly satisfied with himself, with Velmik, with life in general, and there was this light giddiness bubbling in his chest, like he might burst into laughter. A weak grunt of contentment met his ear. Velmik squeezed his thigh and nipped at his shoulder and rolled off of him. Oh, he could breathe now. That was nice. Slurred, throaty Nosupolin. He had no idea what Velmik was trying to say, but it sounded sexy. “I make myself to go now.” Shaking himself to alertness, Tano rolled over and shared his smile with Velmik. “Okay. Thanks for everything.” They kissed a little, and then a little more, and then Velmik muttered, “The priest, he is to be thanked by me. I will pray to Grengar to bless him and I will praise his name.” “I’ll tell him,” Tano promised. “Prince Orinakin. Is he like this other one?” “Is Prince Orinakin like Prince Remin?” Tano asked, to be sure that he understood the question. Velmik nodded at him, getting dressed. Upon reflection, Tano said, “Yes.” They were very similar in some of the best, best ways. “They have a lot in common.” Velmik nodded. “That is of a good thing.” Adjusting his belt, he stood. “Good night. Thank you heartily.” Tano smiled, content. “Good night.” With soft words of love, Kudorin left him. Rising, Remin yawned, running his hands through his hair. Contemplating returning to his quarters, he felt like staying put for a moment. And then, striding cheerfully around the corner, came Tano. Spotting him, Tano headed straight for him, handsome face breaking into a broad smile. “You didn’t have to wait.” Reaching him, Tano gazed at him as if he were the most special, delightful thing in the world. “I thought that you would’ve gone to bed by now.” “It’s a nice night.” Hugging Tano, he inhaled sweaty, musky, masculine scents. Tano felt so strong, so male, and hugged him back as if willing to stay in his

embrace forever. “Did you have fun?” He ran his fingertips lightly across Tano’s nape, and Tano shivered, arms tightening around him. “He was great. Ilanosa have mercy, he fucks hard.” Tano kissed his ear, nuzzled his neck, and he sighed with pleasure, feeling a familiar heat begin to simmer. “Let’s go to bed. I just had an amazing time, and I want to give you one, too.” Mmm, that sounded good. “To each comes the grace of the gods in turn,” Remin murmured, turning towards the palace. His hand slid down to rest on the curve of Tano’s ass as they walked. “There’s someone I want you to meet tomorrow. I think that the two of you will get along very well.” When Bade stopped by his office the next day, in the rest of his correspondence he found a note from Chef Velmik. You are truly blessed by the gods. King Mindo proves his greatness in earning the gods’ favor for his sons. I pray earnestly for your continued health. Long and distinguished is our great king’s reign. It was a very kind, traditional thing to say. Bade wondered what had inspired it. Maybe Velmik had just appreciated the opportunity to - - oh. Right. Blushing, Bade tucked the note away. Velmik must have enjoyed Tano’s, um, company the night before, and was grateful to Bade for having introduced them. Bade felt, as he did whenever anything happened, immediately compelled to tell Vade. It wasn’t a good idea, because Vade would decide to focus on the fact that Bade was arranging sex dates between Nosupolin citizens and Anorian royalty, and would tease him with it for years to come. In fact, Vade would probably call him a pimp. Great Grengar, it just wasn’t worth it. Except that it wasn’t a secret. Tano and Remin and Orinakin and Selorin all knew, and of course Kudorin knew, and once that many of the Seven Siblings knew, the rest always ended up informed, and one of them was bound to mention it to Vade, because it was just the sort of gossip Vade loved. Bade was never going to live this down. At least Velmik was happy about it. And, he hoped, so were Tano and Remin. That, at least, was something. And, truth be told, Bade looked forward to Vade finding out about it, because Vade would be in Orina Anoris soon, and would find ways to bring it up throughout the visit, and it had been too long since they’d spent enough time together to annoy each other. No one exasperated Bade, irritating him and making him laugh with one remark, like Vade did.

Xio Voe stared at Anosukinom. That blithe tone, that innocuous smile, he wanted to believe that it was a joke. No, no, he knew Kudorin too well; he knew how Kudorin enjoyed testing him. It was the truth: the former Pharaoh of Orina Anoris, as well as the former King of Orina Anoris and Princess Eleita, were only hours away from landing in Orina Anoris. And Anosukinom had waited until this moment to mention it to him. “I waited until the last minute to tell Anikira all of the time,” Anosukinom said, shrugging. “It only seems fair to spring it on you, too.” “How even-handed of you.” Already up and in motion, Xio Voe left his office and began to issue commands to everyone in sight. Sending secretaries, undersecretaries, and aides scurrying, he planned and strategized. In the back of his mind, he wondered how his warning system had failed. Knowing that the former pharaoh would return soon, he’d sent scouts to warn him when the pharaoh neared Orina Anoris. Messengers were established at points the former pharaoh should have crossed. How had he not received word? “Oh,” Anosukinom said airily, “I sent them home. It’s more fun this way.” Fun. “Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Xio Voe said, finding the file he’d created on how to welcome the former pharaoh home. “Go and dress yourself to receive Anorik Mutotanosa.” “Do I have to obey your orders?” Anosukinom asked in a pleasantly puzzled tone. “No, but you will.” Xio Voe skimmed his notes, making mental adjustments; his time was limited, and he’d have to make a few compromises. “Can I bring Anikira home?” Xio Voe’s mind leapt ahead, weighing the pros and cons. “Yes. It would be appropriate for her to make herself available to welcome the former pharaoh.” Anosukinom’s love and power brushed against his skin like a physical touch, and then warm, silken fingers drifted across his forehead. Looking down, he found Anosukinom looking at him with a private, enigmatic smile. “Yes?” If Anosukinom required his attention for something specific, he would drop everything else to attend to it. However, if Anosukinom simply wanted to look at him, he had pressing tasks before him. “I’m more glad with every day that I married you.” Anosukinom’s touch drifted down his nose and across his cheek. The prism in Anosukinom’s eyes was inexpressibly beautiful. “Ah, everyone’s coming. I’ll get Anikira and I’ll tell Extra to spread the word to our brothers, so you can cross those items off of your list.”

Anosukinom’s face tilted upwards, and he obediently leaned down to kiss those warm, supple lips. “I love you,” Anosukinom whispered, and vanished. What?! “When?” Tano demanded. Ow! “Shit, shit, ow! Ah!” Grimacing, he wrapped the hem of his apron around his thumb. Fuck. “When?” he asked, trying to focus. “You’ve cut yourself,” Lo Ariside said, hurrying forward. “No, it’s fine.” He spent so much time with a knife in his hand, it was a miracle he didn’t cut himself more often. “When will they be here?” He really wanted to make something nice for Remin’s parents, to welcome them home. Not officially, not as the palace chef, but as their future son-in-law. And just as an Anorian, too, because they’d always be Anosukinom and the king and the queen to him, on the throne or off of it. He’d been trying to decide what he wanted to make - - Remin had suggested an elaborate chocolate cake, but that was just Remin - - and he’d narrowed it down to a few choices, but he wasn’t sure which would be best. He’d planned to speak with Prince Rini about it, since Prince Rini was something of an expert on gifts. “A couple of hours,” Koso said. “Shit, you’re really bleeding.” Hours?! “They’re coming now?!” Remin hadn’t mentioned a word about it! If he’d known, he would’ve spent his every spare second working on their gift, not experimenting with the recipes from his Jacacean cookbooks! The way Koso was staring at him was unnerving, and Tano looked down. Oh, fuck. He really was bleeding. “It’s, it’ll be fine,” he mumbled, squeezing his thumb more tightly. Did he have time to bake anything worthy of Remin’s parents? He hadn’t even shopped for the right ingredients! He didn’t even know what to make! “Help Chef Pitok to a carriage,” Lo Ariside instructed Koso. “You’re going to the clinic.” Clinic? “No, that’s not, I’ll just get a bandage or something,” Tano argued. He didn’t have to go the whole way to a clinic when there was a perfectly good medical assistant in the palace. She took care of Koso every time he got burned, she could patch up Tano just fine. He couldn’t leave, he had to finish dinner, they still had to debone King Xio Voe’s fish, and he’d wanted to make tarts for Remin, and Remin’s parents were about to land! “I can run the kitchen capably until you return,” Lo Ariside said, shoving him towards Koso. “You have to take care of it,” Koso said. “You could bleed to death. Or get infected, like my aunt. You could lose your whole arm. You aren’t married yet, anything could happen to you before the wedding.”

What? Lose an arm? “You don’t have to make it so dire,” Tano protested, but he let Koso drag him from the kitchen. Breaking away from Kudorin’s kiss, Anikira opened her eyes to find herself at home, in the palace, standing in her elegant white bedchamber. Indulging in a few more kisses, she luxuriated in the pleasures of Kudorin’s embrace for a moment, then made herself pull back to organize her thoughts. The private rooms had to be readied, theLaughing, Kudorin drew her in for another kiss. “My queen,” he said, dropping a kiss on her nose, her forehead. “I didn’t bring you home so that you could engage in last-minute panic. I brought you home so that you could relax and enjoy yourself and let someone else handle the last-minute panic.” Oh? Intrigued, she leaned against his chest. “I don’t have to worry myself with rounding up servants and checking over details? Dinner, the flower arrangements, alerting the family, I can just…let it go?” “That’s what my husband’s for.” Kudorin’s kisses were paradise on her neck. At the feel of his hands gathering up her skirt, she felt a delicious rush of anticipation. “All you have to do is change clothes and sit on the throne.” Really. Anikira felt a smile curve her lips as Kudorin’s hardness nudged her. It had been two days since she’d last partnered with him, and she was certainly ready for it again. “Well, then,” she murmured, arching encouragingly against him, “why don’t you help me to undress?” With a distinctly pleased noise, Kudorin kissed her. His fingers lingered over her buttons, and she undulated against him, as aroused by his decision to undress her in a very human way as she was when he chose to whisk her clothing away through more divine means. Oh, it was so nice not to have to fall into the stress of preparing the palace for its former pharaoh, so nice to let someone else handle those tasks. She had no qualms whatsoever about leaving the work to Xio Voe’s perfectly capable hands. It did prick at her conscience, though, not to pitch in. After all, she was home, and she knew the work. It wouldn’t hurt to provide a little assistance. Not that Xio Voe needed it, but Anikira had never been one to sit back when she could lend a hand. “Let me just check on things,” she said breathlessly, pushing Kudorin away. Kudorin stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter. Rolling her eyes, she pushed at him. “Shut up.”

“You used to drop everything for lovesex,” he reminded her, catching her close and kissing her ear. Oh, that felt nice. “I was so much smarter then,” she said, sighing in pleasure. “Mmm, just let me see if there’s anything I can do to help.” Chuckling in her ear, Kudorin guided her hand down to the jut of his arousal. “You can help with this,” he suggested in an unreasonably erotic purr. Giving his dick a loving squeeze, she met his eyes with a smile. “That’s what your husband’s for.” Ticking off brothers on his fingers, Rini tried to make sure he was getting to everybody. He’d talked to Orinakin and Bade, he’d sent word to Selorin and Desin and Anosanim and Talin, he’d talk to Remin next and then, oh, he had to tell Tano! No, he’d tell Tano first, Tano might need to do more to get ready. Besides, Tano was probably excited about meeting their parents, and Rini wanted to break the news first, before someone else got to it. He hated missing people’s reactions to good news! He was super disappointed when he heard that Tano already knew, and he was worried when he heard that Tano had gone to the clinic. Demena Ariside didn’t seem in the least bit concerned about it, though, so he figured it couldn’t be that bad. They’d made Tano drink a thick syrup. He hadn’t wanted it, but he knew that they meant well, and he hated to be rude. They’d warned him that it might make his thoughts a little fuzzy, but he felt fine. He felt just fine. Really, really fine. It was good of everyone to be so nice to him. He’d have to remember to send muffins to the clinic, to thank them. Tano smiled at the priest praying over his hand. What a great guy. What a kind person, to take sure good care of him. Koso muttered something, and Tano smiled at him, too. Koso was such a great help to him, and it had been really nice of Koso to want to help him when he nicked himself. He really liked Koso. He really liked this priest. He really liked almost everyone. People were so great. People, breathing, sex, wow, the gods really had a lot of terrific ideas. Like Prince Remin. Prince Remin had been the best idea the gods had ever had. Was there anything better in the world than Prince Remin? Not to be rude, because Tano appreciated everything the gods had ever created, but dust had not been as fantastic an idea as Prince Remin. Dust, for example, had never made his heart pound in his chest like he was really coming to life for the first time, like his existence had only been a sort of half-state until now and

suddenly the gods had touched him and awakened him to the fullness of reality, and reality was brilliant, a breathtakingly wondrous state he couldn’t wait to explore - - and Prince Remin did to him every single time their eyes met. Tano spent all of his time with Prince Remin awakening to the revelation that the world was a spectacular place. Dust, on the other hand, was really pathetically mundane. Like, who was ever happy to see dust? Who ever wanted more dust in his life? What was dust, anyway? Really? Rini loved it when Remin got like this. Watching Remin stride into the clinic, purposeful and majestic, dispensing blessings right and left without slowing down, opening doors before ever touching them, reminded him of Anosadum. Hurrying along in Remin’s wake, he waved to kids and blew kisses to his friends and quickly handed out candy. Remin seemed to know exactly where Tano was without asking for directions, and Rini wondered who was guiding him. Ilanosa? Inanodu? Kudorin? They walked right into a private room, and it was definitely the right one; Tano was sitting on a cot, and a priest held Tano’s hand, and Koso was leaning against the wall, watching. At Remin’s sudden entrance, the priest and Koso looked startled and bowed hastily and reverently; Tano didn’t looked surprised at all, just smiled like he was so glad to see Remin his whole world was complete now, and started to get up. With a gesture, Remin signaled to Tano to stay seated - - or pushed him back down without touching him, Rini honestly wasn’t sure - - and stepped over, taking his hand. “Thank you for tending to Chef Pitok. Anoha Inanodu.” Making the sign to the gods, Remin blessed the priest in Inanodu’s name, then asked, “What is your assessment?” Rini peeked at Tano’s hand for himself. His thumb was neatly bandaged, and the bandage was clean, not bloody. The lower third of his apron was red with blood, and Rini was pretty sure that wasn’t from butchering. He looked okay, though, and if something were still wrong, there would be more people in the room, acting worried and praying and bustling around. Looking grateful for the blessing and incredibly self-conscious, the priest said, “The cut was deep and straight, Your Highness.” A lot of bland details followed about what the priest had given Tano for the pain, and the fact that Tano had been drugged would’ve explained the goofy, happy way he was staring at Remin, except that he always looked at Remin like that. The priest hastily explained about cleaning and bandages and salves, catching Remin up step by step, and it all

sounded right to Rini. Apparently it sounded right to Remin, too, because he thanked the priest and blessed him again. “I have to go,” Tano said. “Your parents are coming, I have to cook for them. I want to make fruit-and-cream tarts but I don’t have the ingredients. I have to send Koso for the ingredients. I need berries, Remin,” he explained earnestly, in the same tone of voice anyone else would use to say, “If we don’t force them back, the enemy will break through the gate within the hour, Remin.” “We’ll shop for them tomorrow,” Remin said in a perfectly calm, quietly firm tone. “You’ll bake for my parents tomorrow. They’ll be busy catching up with family and settling in tonight. Tomorrow will be better.” Making the sign to the gods, he took Tano’s hand in both hands and closed his eyes. The whole room was quiet. The priest, Rini, and Koso made the sign to the gods and watched Remin. Tano gazed up at Remin in placid contentment, like just having Remin close made everything better. Rini felt really peaceful, all of a sudden. Like his mother was close. He felt very serene and very loved and very healthy. So healthy. He was strong, he was very aware of that, suddenly; it was clear to him that he enjoyed perfect health, that he was resilient, that he was very safe. His body worked so well, it was the ideal machine, so efficient, so sound. All of his systems and organs worked in harmony. He felt wonderfully alive, wonderfully blessed, and he put a hand to his chest, just to feel the pumping of his heart, just to feel the filling of his lungs. The room was much brighter than it had been a moment ago. Or was his vision sharper? The love of the gods rushed through him in a vibrant, giddy swirl, and Rini laughed, hugging the priest. With a dazed, wondering look, the priest hugged him back. Opening his eyes, Remin said, “Anoha Inanodu.” “Anoha Inanodu,” Rini said merrily with the others. “Thank you.” Tano didn’t even look at his hand. Cupping Tano’s face in both hands, Remin kissed him. Rini grinned. With a happy moan, Tano’s mouth opened, and Tano’s hands slid over Remin’s arms, pulling Remin closer. The priest blushed, turning away. Koso was flat-out staring, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and he did not want it to stop.

Rini waited, just in case Remin felt like coming up for air, but Tano was leaning back and Remin was pressing forward and, yeah, that cot was going to get a good workout. In public, in the clinic, in front of a priest! Rini was so proud. “So,” Rini said, grabbing Koso’s arm and pushing the priest towards the doorway, “I’m glad that Tano’s going to be all right. Cuts can be nasty! You’ve heard that my parents are coming home?”

Part 284 Tucked into the crowd of servants and citizens filling the throne room, Tano watched eagerly for the arrival of Remin’s parents. He’d changed into a more conservative outfit than usual, hoping to look reasonably dignified for this momentous introduction. Inanodu had healed the cut on his thumb to a lightly scabbed over line that only hurt if he poked at it, and the fuzz had faded from his mind. He still wished that he’d had time to bake something, but Remin had insisted that he could offer the former pharaoh food for the rest of her stay in Orikodisata. The influx of wedding guests was well underway, and the throne room was full of foreigners and Anorians from out of town. Remin looked perfectly composed just to one side of the throne, and Tano loved seeing him there, so majestic, so grand, so calm, right at the foot of the throne, ready to serve Anosukinom. Remin’s aunts and uncles and cousins were there, and so many brightly colored heads added to the festive nature of the moment. Tano loved seeing Anosukinom with the king and queen on the throne all at once, loved how poised and gracious the queen was as she smiled at everyone, loved how cold and forbidding the king’s bearing was, loved how magnificent and wonderful and terribly beautiful Anosukinom was. The pharaoh’s face went very blank for an instant, the way it did when he was communing with the gods, and Tano made the sign to the gods, humble in his presence. When the former pharaoh arrived, Tano fell back in awe with everyone else. Her movements, her voice, were so serene, Tano found her presence wonderfully soothing. Reassuring. He’d been worried that she wouldn’t approve of the marriage, that she wouldn’t like him, but now he felt much calmer about the situation. He still thought that she might not approve, but now he thought, too, that it wouldn’t be the end of his world. Princess Eleita had a very kind face, and her gestures reminded him of Anosanim. He wondered if she, like King Xio Voe, would recognize that he had Ilanosa’s support. Surely Ilanosa still spoke with her. Remin had told him that there was nothing to worry about, that his parents wouldn’t question a match Ilanosa and

Anosukinom had blessed, but parents were still parents, weren’t they? They’d want the best for their treasured son, and they might not consider Tano the best. He would’ve recognized Remin’s father anywhere. Those brawny shoulders, that thick hair, that commanding stride. It was hard to think of him as Lo Resaden, and not as the king. Tano wished that Remin could meet his parents, his family. Remin would have liked them, he was sure. And his parents would’ve been so proud of him, so happy for him, seeing him wed to Prince Anosatim Inanodat Anoremin A Hiti. He didn’t know what happened to people after they completed their lives, but he wished that he could show his parents, his grandmother, what had happened to him, what he’d done with the life they’d given him. As the royal family processed from the throne room, Tano patted his clothing, making sure that all of his buttons were buttoned, and smoothed down his hair. Sulano’s boyfriend was pressed beside him in the crowd, and Tano whispered to him, “Do I look respectable? Presentable?” Rerenaso grinned at him, squeezing his arm. “You look like the ideal son-in-law. They’ll adore you.” Remin’s personal secretary, Mihina, popped up out of nowhere and seized Tano’s arm. “Come on,” she ordered, and shoved off through the crowd. Hurrying behind her, Tano followed her through the tight press of people, out of the throne room and into one of the grand ballrooms. Mihina towed him directly to the receiving line, pushing him in behind a woman in purple and gold, then abandoned him. On his own, Tano looked around the ballroom. He was a few dozen people away from greeting Remin’s parents. It looked like he’d meet Lo Resaden first, then Princess Eleita, then the former pharaoh, then Queen Anikira, then King Xio Voe, then Anosukinom. Prince Rini was tucked neatly between Lo Resaden and the princess. Prince Remin stood at Anosukinom’s side, acknowledging the people greeting Anosukinom, smiling graciously at some people, smiling with warm and friendly interest at others, touching some of them. The woman in front of Tano turned with a polite smile. “It looks as if we have a long wait ahead of us. I am Eratila Komasin.” No! “Princess Hiti’s daughter?” She gave him a serene, pleased smile, and he bowed, making the sign to the gods. “It is an honor to meet you.” He remembered Remin and Prince Orinakin wondering whether she’d be home in time for the wedding. “You’ve been abroad, haven’t you? In Mannillea?”

“Yes, I have.” She looked pleased at his interest and curious about how he knew. “I’ve spent the last few months between Mannillea and Vafiance. I only got home yesterday.” “I worked in Vafiance,” Tano said, surprised. “Volunteer work.” “Really?” Studying him with real interest now, she turned more fully, her back to the people in front of her. The two of them chatted about Vafiance, about the work being done there. She’d spent a lot of time there over the past couple of years, and it was amazing, she said, how much progress had been made over the past few months. The changes were dramatic, and she anticipated Prince Orinakin making an official statement in a month or so to announce that the famine was technically over. They talked about what that meant, and what else needed to be done, and what had caused the sudden progress. As that discussion continued, the man behind Tano in line piped in. The three of them couldn’t agree on how much of the progress was due to the weather, due to Prince Desin’s aid, and due to the Jacacean Empire’s aid. The argument was conducted in a very polite, polished manner, but Eratila looked, frankly, like she wanted to punch the guy in the nose for insinuating that the Jacacean Empire’s help had made all of the difference. She finally asked the man who he was, and he admitted that he was an ambassador from Leorin. Even with his limited political knowledge, Tano knew that Leorin was one of the Empire’s closest allies. This guy probably hadn’t spoken to an Anorian in his life until King Xio Voe’s wedding. Looking down his nose, the man asked Tano who he was. Tano smiled at him. Spending time abroad, Tano had learned the difference in how Anorians and foreigners treated people based on their job titles. “Oh, I’m just a palace servant. I work in the kitchens. That’s what I did in Vafiance, I cooked for the local citizens. Lots of beans.” The man practically recoiled, and addressed the entirety of his comments to Eratila from then on. Eratila, for her part, continued to speak in the same manner to both of them, as if a dishwasher and an ambassador might both have interesting opinions on a subject. The moment provided a good reminder for Tano. Married to Remin, he was going to spend a lot of time with people like this, and he was going to have to figure out how to deal with it. But Anorians accepted all citizens as equal, and Remin’s parents would be the same way. He’d been worried that, like him, they thought that no one could be good enough for Remin. But they wouldn’t find him unworthy just because of the town he came from or the money he’d been born with. He didn’t have to be a prince or an Heir to be a good husband. He just had to be right for Remin. And he was. And they’d see that, or he’d show it to them.

Prince Dimi came up to them, interrupting their conversation to greet Eratila. Welcoming her home, he hugged her tightly, lifting her from the ground for a moment. Clapping Tano on the shoulder, he said, “Good to see you. Don’t look so nervous, Manosuta doesn’t bite.” Then he offered his hand to the ambassador for an introduction. Eratila gave Tano a keen look. “Just a palace servant?” she murmured, while Prince Dimi and the ambassador talked. “Just a palace servant wouldn’t be so far up in this line.” “I’m King Xio Voe’s personal chef,” Tano explained. He grinned at her. “And Prince Remin’s.” With a happy shout, she hugged him. “You scoundrel! You’re Naritano Pitok!” Still in conversation with Prince Dimi, the ambassador shot a horrified look at Tano, astonished. Laughing, Tano hugged her back. “Your cousins have missed you a lot. They’ll be so glad to see you.” “I’m glad to see you!” Cupping his chin, she smiled at him. “I should have guessed. Prince Remin found himself a handsome one.” Hand dropping, she glanced up the line, then frowned at him. “What are you doing the whole way back here? Go up and say hello. They came home to see you.” “No, no,” Tano said quickly. “I couldn’t be so rude, can you imagine? Pushing past everyone else and inserting myself in the front of the line? I’d be knocking princesses aside!” Shushing him with a gesture, she stepped out of the line and waved. Embarrassed, Tano stepped back, but she must have drawn attention, because Prince Rini was with them in a moment. After an instant of hugging and greeting Eratila, Prince Rini hugged him, kissing him warmly. “Are you nervous? You look nervous.” Why did people keep saying that? “I’m fine.” He rubbed a knuckle over his mouth to smear off Prince Rini’s lip gloss. “Everyone’s happy to have your parents home. There are so many people here.” “How’s your hand?” Prince Rini asked, holding it and inspecting his thumb. “Remin healed it,” he told Eratila. “Tano practically chopped it off today and Remin prayed over it and look, it’s just a little cut.” “Anoha Inanodu,” she said, making the sign to the gods. “Have you shown my mother?” “Oh! Let’s go show Hiti, she’ll want to see it,” Prince Rini said.

“Introduce the boy to your parents, first,” Prince Dimi said. “You know how your mother is, she’ll want to see Prince Remin’s husband as soon as she can.” “Come on,” Prince Rini said, pulling Tano forward. “There’s a line,” Tano insisted, trying to draw Prince Rini back. “They’ve been waiting.” “I’m so sorry,” Prince Rini said in a bright, loud voice, smiling at the people they passed as he dragged Tano onward. “This is Prince Remin’s fiancé, I want to introduce him to our parents. I’m so sorry, we’ll be quick, he’s marrying Prince Remin.” Completely embarrassed, Tano found himself face-to-face with Remin’s father. Not precisely face-to-face, since Lo Resaden was taller. Taller and impressively burly and eyeing Tano warily. And then he broke into a broad smile and clapped Tano on the back, pulling him in for a big hug. “Naritano Pitok! Eleita, it’s the chef.” As Lo Resaden released him, Tano found himself pulled into a soft, loving embrace. “I don’t need to be told, Mano. I don’t need an introduction to recognize the love of my own son’s life.” Her soft, delicate hands held onto his hands as she smiled up at him with such kind affection he wanted to hug her again. “Naritano,” she said, with a pleasant sigh and a happy smile. “Gods above, you are handsome. Look at him, Mano, doesn’t he look like those old ancestral portraits? If Anosukinom’s children ever came out with black hair, I’d think you were one of them.” Tano was so excited to be meeting Remin’s parents, his own former rulers, he didn’t know what to say. How could he possibly express his happiness and anticipation and joy? “Thank you, Your Highness, it’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I’m so glad to get to meet you, we’re all so glad to have you home, I hope that the gods were with you on your journey. After such a long trip, may I offer you some biscuits?” She blinked at him. “Biscuits, my dear?” He tried to pronounce the Leetesrian term for it, sure that he was garbling it, and added, “It wouldn’t be any trouble, I’ll just run to the kitchen and-” “Trying to escape?” Lo Resaden asked. “No, he’s always like this, he’s forever offering to cook something,” Prince Rini said. Swatting Tano’s arm, he scolded, “Stop it! You don’t have to feed everyone you meet.”

“You know how to make uorenta, dear?” Princess Eleita asked, and Tano tried to file the pronunciation away in his brain. “Yes, Your Highness,” Tano said, bowing. “I haven’t had the opportunity to bake them for a native Leetesrian, but I will do my best.” “They’re great,” Prince Rini said. “Remin eats them like twenty at a time. Well, it’s Remin. But Selorin eats them twenty at a time, too. They’re great, they melt in your mouth.” Then he frowned and swatted Tano again. “Now you have me talking about food! Come and meet Anosadum, she wants to see you.” Intellectually, Tano knew that this was Anorik, not Anosukinom, that this woman was no longer a deity, that the living god was her son, now. But he’d grown up worshipping her, praying to her, and when he looked at her, he still saw divinity within her. It wasn’t just the outward signs of her hair, her eyes, her beauty, it was also her serenity, the peace she carried with her, the great calm in her expression. She exuded peace, and as she extended her hand to him, he found himself on his knees. “He always does this,” he heard Prince Rini explaining. “Just give him a second, he’ll come back up.” Closing his eyes, Tano took a moment to collect himself, then prayed in thanks as a jumble of ideas rolled through his thoughts. Everything he’d been through and everything he’d done, everything he was grateful for, and now here he was, faceto-face with the woman he’d used to worship, the woman who’d used to walk among them as Anosukinom, the woman who’d ruled over them, and she was Remin’s mother, and he was going to marry Remin, and this was his life, and she was his family, now, he could call himself a part of her family, gods above. “Naritano.” He felt a hand, her hand, settle lightly on his hair. Her voice was smooth and majestic. Raising his head, he realized that she was right there with him, kneeling on the floor. “You don’t have to bow to me. I’m not your pharaoh, and you’re not my subject any longer. Come and see me tonight, when the pomp and ceremony have ended, and we’ll get to know each other.” She smiled, touching his hand. “I understand. You love me, very much, and you love him, very much. I am glad to see so much devotion in you.” She knew him. Of course she knew him, she was Anosukinom - - but no she wasn’t, her son was Anosukinom, she wasn’t - - but she had been. She’d been Anosukinom for most of his life. Had she known him, then? Had she known who he was and what he’d grow up to be? Of course she had. She’d known him, and his parents, and his grandmother; she’d seen him in Remin’s future, and Remin in his, she must have. Tano stared at her, seeing miracles in her eyes. She’d known before any of them.

“Of course I knew.” Her embrace surprised him, enveloped him; she was slim and strong, and she held him close. “Thank you for coming home to us.” When he finally pried Tano away from Anosadum, Rini took him to see Hiti. Different royal high priests had performed different numbers of miracles, and different kinds of miracles, in different ways, and Hiti had always been interested in figuring out what that meant, whether it related to the priest’s personality or the priest’s relationship with the gods or the priest’s relationship with Anosukinom in particular or something else. Rini showed off Tano’s hand, and then rolled his eyes at Tano and said, “No, your other hand.” “This is the one,” Tano said. If the guy didn’t know his right from his left, they - - wait, which hand had it been? “It’s not this one.” Rini was sure of that. He’d thought that it was this one, but there was no cut on this one. To prove it, he showed Hiti Tano’s other hand. “Have you spoken with Remin since?” Hiti asked, holding both of Tano’s hands. “Prayed with him?” “No,” Tano said. The three of them huddled in together, inspecting Tano’s hands, Tano’s thumbs. There were no marks, no scars, no lines at all. Rini couldn’t tell anymore where the cut had been. “When did you notice it last?” Hiti asked. “I don’t know,” Tano said. “In the throne room? I haven’t spoken with him since before that.” Oh! Oh! “Anosadum!” Rini exclaimed. “She did it! She was just holding his hand, this hand, I mean, that one.” Looking interested, Hiti nodded slowly. “It’s certainly possible. I’ll speak with her.” Hugging Tano, Rini looked at his hand again, admiring its smoothness. Anosadum had healed it perfectly. That was wild, Anosadum didn’t even perform very many miracles anymore. Wondering why Tano was so quiet, Rini met his eyes, and the dazed expression on Tano’s face made him laugh. “And you were worried that she wouldn’t like you!” Anosanim honestly didn’t want to monopolize his parents’ time. He’d have plenty of time to see them during their visit, and this was a chance for them to reconnect with old friends. But he simply couldn’t resist spending a few minutes joining in

with Talin and Desin to catch up with Sadum and getting her first impression of Tano. “He seems like such a treasure,” she confided, fanning herself. “He offered to make me uorenta, if you can imagine. I really think that he would’ve run off right then and there to do it, too! So handsome, but he doesn’t seem arrogant about it at all. And I notice that Remin’s looking much less peaked! Is that Tano’s doing?” “He does look less scrawny,” Desin said approvingly. “Tano and Remin’s romance has been an endless stream of food,” Anosanim said. “Tano absolutely delights in feeding people, and Remin’s simply insatiable. He has a wonderfully healthy glow about him, now, doesn’t he?” It was so very inspiring to see how happy and fulfilled Remin was under Tano’s influence. Tucking her arm through Talin’s elbow, Sadum tapped at Anosanim’s sleeve with her fan. “And how is our Ritek?” “Oh, he’s just perfect,” Anosanim said. “I’m sorry that he can’t be here, he’s abroad on business again.” A line of concern appeared in Sadum’s forehead. “He won’t be away for the wedding, will he?” “Oh, goodness, no!” Anosanim laughed at her worry. “He wouldn’t miss that.” “Ask Desin about his love life,” Talin suggested. Chuckling gleefully, Sadum squeezed Desin’s brawny forearm. “I met his Sebado. He and your father hit it off right away. I think they’re still over there talking.” Desin shrugged, grinning. “I figured they’d get along.” Sadum smiled at Desin the way she smiled at all of her sons, as if he were her favorite. “I knew that it wouldn’t be long before you settled down a little. Someone was bound to capture that big heart of yours.” Talin snorted. “Is it Desin’s big heart that Sebado’s interested in?” Anosanim smacked Talin’s arm with his fan, but Sadum beamed at Desin with pride and said, “As your mother always says, the size and stability of a man’s erection isn’t nearly as important as the rest of his qualities, but it does provide some entertainment on a quiet afternoon, and that’s something to factor in.” While Talin snickered, Desin broke into quick, rich laughter. Clearing his throat, Desin said, “I haven’t really settled down. Sebado and I aren’t serious.” “He’s your boyfriend,” Sadum said. “You’re in a relationship with him.” Looking uneasy, Desin said, “Yeah.”

“He’s a nice young man,” Sadum said. “Do you spend a lot of time with him?” “They partner, what, three times a day?” Talin asked. “Not every day,” Desin muttered, looking like he wanted to scowl at Talin. “Okay, how many times this week?” Talin asked. “How many - - like how many times, or how many times?” Desin asked. “Not how many separate times did you get off,” Talin said. “How many times did the two of you get together to partner?” For a moment, Desin looked to the side, considering, like he was trying to remember. Whatever he came up with, he must not have liked, because he frowned at Talin. “What’s that supposed to mean? How many times did Selorin have sex with his boyfriend this week? How many times did Rini partner with,” he waved, “anyone?” Talin smirked. “Why are you so touchy about this?” A warning glittered in Desin’s eyes; he would’ve exercised his brotherly right to shove Talin into the nearest wall if Sadum hadn’t been there. Anosanim decided to give Desin a moment to himself and asked, “Is that Noleta? I haven’t seen her in ages!” In a flash, he and Sadum were halfway across the room. Honestly, Anosanim would’ve loved to get Desin to talk about Sebado. How he really felt about Sebado, how he felt about how he felt about Sebado, how he felt about finally being in a relationship, what he wanted out of their relationship, how he expected their relationship to progress, and so much more. But Desin didn’t want to talk about those things, and trying to coax him into it just made him prickly. Sebado spoke about those things frankly. Over lunches, dinners, and cozy little talks in the courtyard, Sebado had admitted candidly that he was in love with Desin, that he expected that Desin was in something like love with him, and that he was perfectly content with the situation as it stood. He didn’t want anything else but what he had: a close friend who gave him what he wanted in a relationship without limits. Desin and Sebado spent a lot of time together, but didn’t feel as if they had to. They had a lot of sex with each other, but they also had a lot of sex without each other. They confided in each other but also respected each other’s silence when they didn’t feel like talking. Anosanim had worried that if Desin didn’t admit to being in love with Sebado, Sebado might grow resentful or doubtful, but Sebado didn’t seem at all concerned about it. “I don’t care if he loves me or not,” Sebado had said, holding his hand still while Anosanim painted his nails. “I’m not with him for that. I kind of like not

knowing. It’s a lot of pressure. I don’t want to be the guy Prince Ebutadesin falls in love with. I want to be the guy Prince Ebutadesin has a good time with.” It wasn’t very romantic, Anosanim supposed. But it sounded like something Desin might say, and he found that charming. The only comebacks Desin could come up with in reply to Talin’s little taunt were unnecessarily cruel. Poking back at Talin with a remark about Talin’s love life would inevitably make it sound like he was making some dig about Hitari, and Desin would rather bite off his own tongue. So he just gave Talin a look and went to track down one of the circulating trays of food. Yeah, he and Sebado hung out a lot. Yeah, they got off together a lot. That was what a boyfriend was for, wasn’t it? He liked Sebado. He liked that he could introduce Sebado to his parents, and he could leave Sebado to talk to his father alone, without worrying about it. He wasn’t tense about how Sebado would come across, or if his parents would approve, or if someone would get the wrong impression. That was what was so great about Sebado, as a boyfriend. Desin never had to worry about anything. It was all so easy. Knowing how great and simple a relationship could be gave Desin hope. Marriage, for example, looked much easier now. It would be just like regular life, but with a best friend who never went home. That didn’t sound that bad at all. After another sweeping look around the ballroom, Remin narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Tano?” “He went to the kitchen,” Kudorin said. Remin sighed. “Of course he did. To cook?” “He wanted to see if there was anything he could to do help. He’s in Chef Kanase’s kitchen, stuffing chicken.” Muttering a curse under his breath, Remin pushed his glass into Kudorin’s hand. “Please be so good as to excuse me.” Smiling to himself, Kudorin kept watching Anikira and Xio Voe across the room. They’d tried to circulate through the crowd together, but so many people sought their attention they’d barely moved. Anikira had her arm through Xio Voe’s, and Xio Voe had made no effort to pull away. They’d developed a balance to their

conversations; Anikira was good at smoothing over the feelings Xio Voe ruffled, and Xio Voe was efficient at cutting through chatter, so that instead of being cornered by a few people, Anikira had a chance to speak with many guests. It pleased Kudorin to see his spouses get along so well. They’d missed each other, and he was glad that they’d gravitated toward each other. It was a shame that they weren’t interested in each other sexually. Ah, well. Looking down at the glass in his hand, Kudorin considered it for a moment. Champagne. Did he want to drink champagne? Or would he rather do something else? He’d rather do something else. What should the champagne bubbles be? Pearls? Seeds? Hmm, beads of water, and - - noticing his mother’s approach, Kudorin smiled. “They get along well,” Anosadum noted. Kissing her cheek, he hugged her, and she hugged him back. “I knew that they would, if they got used to each other.” “She understands him,” Anosadum said. “She knows his priorities. He respects her more than he thought that he would.” Deciding the champagne glass’s fate, Kudorin handed his mother a small, white rabbit. Smiling, she cupped it in her hands, keeping it safe. “Thank you.” “I always took it for granted that you and Sadum and Sanuk loved each other. When I was older, I understood that you had two separate marriages, not one three-person marriage. But we always felt like one family. I want my children to know that feeling.” “The three of you won’t always agree on what’s best,” Anosadum said, smoothing the rabbit’s soft fur. “That’s fine. You know where the pitfalls are.” She gave him a firm, knowing look which, for a moment, made him feel young and human again. “Be careful, be considerate, and you’ll know what to do.” She smiled. “You’re blessed with omniscience and two bright, trusting partners. You’ll be fine.” In the middle of a busy, noisy kitchen, dishes clattering and Chef Kanase shouting out orders, Tano kept his head down and focused on his work. He loved the rush and bustle around him, loved feeling like a helpful part of a demanding team, and he took pride in his contribution. Let anyone say what they liked, that chicken was going to be delicious, and he watched with a sense of satisfaction as another platter left the kitchen.

With a smile, Remin turned away from the kitchen. “I thought that you were coming to get Tano,” Kudorin said, appearing suddenly at his side. “He looks so happy there, so comfortable, I don’t want to drag him away,” Remin admitted. His arm around Kudorin, he steered Kudorin back towards the ballroom. “I want him to be where he wants to be.” “Where we want to be,” Kudorin said, and sighed, leaning into Remin’s shoulder for a moment. “You want to be with me, Tano wants to be in the kitchen and wherever you are. I want to be with all of my loved ones. Orinakin wants to be in Orina Anoris and with Bade, Bade wants to be in Nosupolis and with Orinakin. Anikira wants to be in Orina Anoris, Xio Voe wants to be in Jacacea.” “Xio Voe wants to be with you,” Remin corrected him. “He’s already made that choice.” “Sometimes there’s no conflict at all,” Kudorin mused. “Anosanim wants to be with Talin. Talin wants to be with Anosanim. Desin wants to be with us, with family, with friends, anywhere he can be close to his soil and close to his river.” “The dreamer’s home is where he wishes to be,” Remin murmured. “The happy man’s home is where he is.” “If only we could be in all places, at all times. So that we could share our lives no matter where our paths take us. The ache of losing each other, of reaching out and finding only absence instead of a loved one to touch, it’s so very human, but would we be better without it?” Kudorin made a faint, humming sound. “But you are happy where you are, and Tano is happy where he is, and your happiness brings contentment to my heart.” “Out of morbid curiosity, where does Extra want to be?” Kudorin’s smile was full of love. “Everywhere at once.” Talin finally worked his way out of a painfully dull conversation on contemporary Ilaeian poetry. Wondering where Anosanim was, he glanced around, and his father caught his eye. Glad to see Sanuk, Talin walked over. Giving him a gruff hug, Sanuk drew him into a quiet corner. It was finally late enough for people to begin to head home, and the ballroom was less crowded now. “Tano Pitok,” Sanuk said, giving him a questioning, probing look. “What do you know about him?”

What Sanuk really meant was, “What do you think of him?” Talin tried not to grin, but he thought that it was funny that Sanuk wanted to protect Remin. Anosukinom approved, and Ilanosa approved, but Sanuk wanted to figure Tano out for himself. For an instant, Talin was tempted to misrepresent the situation, just to see how Sanuk would react to the idea of Remin marrying someone scheming or illtempered or neglectful, but he didn’t want to sour Sanuk’s impression of another family member. “He’s a good guy,” Talin said. “I like him. He’s good for Remin.” He didn’t know why Sanuk wanted his opinion, as opposed to anyone else’s, but he’d give it anyway. “He’s honest?” Sanuk asked. “Respects Remin’s time?” “Yeah,” Talin said, glad to be able to give a good report. “He’s an honest guy. He doesn’t pull Remin away from work, he’s not the kind of guy who’s going to interfere and start complaining about not getting enough attention. He doesn’t monopolize Remin’s free time, either. Remin spends a lot of time with him but a lot of time with us, too. A lot of time with him and us, together.” “What do you think the attraction is?” Sanuk asked. “The food? The sex?” “There’s that,” Talin admitted, grinning. “I don’t know, I think that Tano’s in love with all of who Remin is. He’s in love with Remin the royal high priest and Remin the eater and Remin the sex machine and Remin the child of the gods and Remin the lecturer. Remin’s self-indulgent and he works too hard and he’s a perfectionist and he makes way too many demands of himself, and he’s shown Tano all of that. He can be himself around Tano, and I think that he likes that. It seems like a relief. The food and the sex are pretty fantastic, though. From what I’ve seen.” Nodding, Sanuk put a heavy hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Most of the good chefs I know are good drinkers. He holds his liquor well?” “Better than Remin does.” Not like Bade, but none of them could drink like Bade. Suspicious, Talin eyed his father. “What are you going to do, get him drunk and interrogate him?” Chuckling, Sanuk gave his shoulder another squeeze. “It worked on my first sonin-law, might work on this one, too.” Rini thought that he’d been very patient in waiting for his presents. He’d only asked about them three times, once to each parent. As soon as his parents retired to their quarters, he gave them a few minutes, and then he went to give them his gifts. Kudorin was already there, and he summoned everyone else, and, finally, presents!

Rini was trying on some of his new clothes when Sadum asked, “Remin, where’s Tano? Goodness, you haven’t left him in the kitchen all of this time, have you?” “I’ll get him,” Kudorin said, and didn’t move. “Hey,” Desin said. “Norisa. Kudorin! Hey!” Turning, Rini saw a curl of green tail exiting the room, and then the door closed. Whoa. “Tiger, loose in the palace.” “She’s perfectly safe,” Kudorin said, patting Desin’s chest. “She’s with me.” Humming to himself, Tano wiped down the last countertop. He’d agreed not to cook for Remin’s parents, and that was okay; they were busy, and he didn’t want to intrude. He’d wait until tomorrow. But cooking for Remin, well, that was something else entirely. And it seemed especially important tonight, when Remin had been busy speaking with people and might not have had much of a chance to eat, and even then there had only been circulating platters, no real opportunity to sit down and indulge. He’d asked Sulano if he should make anything for King Xio Voe, but Sulano had said no. He’d made a couple of Jacacean snacks, anyway, just in case he ran into the king; Remin would happily eat them regardless. Covered trays loaded into a three-tiered cart, Tano started for Remin’s rooms. He didn’t know if Remin would be there or not, but Remin would probably be there eventually. To sleep or change clothes or shower or something. Tano pictured the Seven Siblings catching up with their parents. All of those wonderful people and bright colors. There was probably a lot of cuddling. He wished that he could catch up with his own parents. Tell them what he was up to. The sight of a green tiger walking in his direction lightened his heart and he looked farther up the hallway, expecting to see Prince Desin. He saw only servants and guards, no Prince Desin at all. “You shouldn’t be out on your own,” he told Norisa, and she stopped and looked at him. If she’d been a regular cat, he would’ve picked her up to carry her back to Prince Desin’s rooms, but she wasn’t an everyday sort of cat, and he wasn’t entirely sure that she couldn’t kill him. Tigers ate people, didn’t they? If Prince Desin were around, Tano might risk being more bold with her, but Prince Desin was Matanori’s favored son. He wondered how long Norisa had been out, wandering the palace. Prince Desin probably didn’t know that she was loose, had probably closed her in his apartment, but she’d gotten out, and no one dared try to put her back in. Gods above, she might wander out of the palace entirely, and become lost! She could be hurt or killed out there!

“You have to go back where it’s safe,” he told her, with absolutely no hope of being understood. She started to walk away. He’d follow her. If he stayed with her, he could find an opportunity to lock her into a room and keep her there until Prince Desin could come for her. And he could try to intervene if she made any attempt to stray out of the palace. Someone had to watch over her. He couldn’t believe that the guards would just let her wander like this! She wasn’t a dove, she was a dangerous animal and a much-beloved pet! Towing his cart along behind himself, since he wasn’t entirely sure what else to do with it, he followed Norisa. It was an odd little parade. She didn’t wander around much. She seemed to know where she wanted to go. Did she know where Prince Desin was? That would be terrific, if she had a sense for Prince Desin even when they were separated. Tano wouldn’t be at all surprised. She really was a beautiful creature. As they walked, he admired her striped coat and the shape of her ears. She couldn’t possibly understand how precious she was, a gift from Anosukinom to his beloved brother. The spoiled companion of Matanori’s blessed son. But she probably knew, in some way, who Desin was. There was an endless number of tales about Anosabim and his, or her, way with the animals. Animals recognized the fifth of the Seven Siblings. Anosabim could stop a mauling bear with one word, could summon a dozen birds from the sky with one call, could quiet a runaway horse with a gesture. Anosabim could reach into an animal’s mind. Considering how much time Prince Desin spent with Norisa, it was probably inevitable that she could find him on her own. Maybe she could smell him. Or was that a dog thing? How well could cats smell? They had to hunt, didn’t they? So they could probably smell very well. Although people hunted, too, and Tano couldn’t sniff out prey. When Norisa sauntered right into the pharaoh’s private wing, Tano halted, ready to offer explanations and ask that the guards watch her, but the guards just waved him on through. “They’re waiting for you,” one of them said. Waiting? For him? Perplexed, Tano headed on after Norisa. He heard a jumble of voices up ahead, and Norisa stepped through an open doorway. Not wanting to intrude, he walked to the doorway and peeped in. Bright, colorful rooms. Luxurious furnishings, splashes of color everywhere. The carpeting and walls were white, but this couch was red, that chair blue, a table

made of green marble. The Seven Siblings were tucked in cozily with their spouses and parents, and everyone was watching him and Norisa enter. “There you are,” Prince Desin said, leaning forward and snapping his fingers. “Come here.” Norisa was already headed straight for him, and he picked her up, holding her to his chest. “There you are,” Remin said, smiling. Then he straightened up a bit, eyeing the cart. “Is that for me?” “Yes, of course it is. And for King Xio Voe, if he’d like. I don’t want to interrupt,” Tano added hastily, in case they thought that he’d come to barge in and include himself. “I just made a few things - - and I saw Norisa in the hallway, and-” “I sent her to fetch you,” Anosukinom said. “Come and sit with me,” Princess Eleita said. “Remin’s been telling us all about you, but I want to hear it from you.” Gods above. Now? He wasn’t ready now, he’d just been working, he’d been sweating and he probably smelled like fish or smoke or something. Maybe he could escape to shower and change. “Yes, Your Highness. I’m sorry that I didn’t make enough for everyone, I didn’t expect - - I can go and-” “That’s not enough for everyone?” Lo Resaden asked. How could it be? He had to feed Remin. Tano tried to think of a polite way to phrase it. “I wasn’t sure that Remin,” should he say Prince Remin, “had a proper meal. When he focuses on his work, he tends to postpone eating. I thought that, now that things are quieter, he might be hungry.” “Yes,” Remin said. “Did you bring cake?” Smiling, loving him, Tano said, “Yes, I brought cake.” With hasty glances at Anosukinom and the former pharaoh, he murmured, “With your permission,” and quickly took a collapsed table from the cart, unfolding it and erecting it before Remin. He set everything out for Remin, food, dessert, wine, and then bowed to King Xio Voe. Everyone was staring at him, which was kind of embarrassing, but he just focused on his work. He didn’t know whether to address King Xio Voe as a servant or as a brother-in-law, so he stuck for being a loyal subject and asked, “If it would please Your Majesty?” “It would,” King Xio Voe said coolly. So Tano bowed again and set up another table for him. Less food, juice instead of wine. He was trying to word his hasty escape when Remin reached out and took hold of his wrist. He couldn’t say no to Remin, so he sank down at Remin’s side on the couch, between Remin and Princess Eleita, as Talin vacated the spot and went to sit beside Anosanim.

With a moan of satisfaction, Remin ate. Watching him, Tano smiled, putting a hand on his thigh. “This is why you don’t look so gaunt,” Princess Eleita said. “You finally have someone taking care of you and making sure you eat.” “Anikira told us that you cooked for the village when you visited her,” the former pharaoh said. “When you received Anosukinom’s blessing.” “I did,” Tano admitted, smiling at the memory. “It was a great trip, everyone was so friendly. I love cooking for new people. It was so different from the palace kitchen, it was just like cooking in my grandmother’s kitchen again. I’m spoiled, cooking here, all of the ingredients, all of the fancy equipment. King Xio Voe’s been incredibly generous with me.” “You call him by his title, dear?” Princess Eleita asked. “But you’re family, there’s no need for that.” “He’s Jacacean, he likes it,” Lo Resaden said fondly. “Tano uses titles for everybody except Remin,” Prince Rini said. “I think that he’s waiting for the wedding.” “Nonsense,” Princess Eleita said, taking Tano’s hand. “I won’t wait for a wedding to consider you a part of my family, and you won’t wait for a wedding to call me Sadum. Now, you must tell me all about how you and Remin met.” Call her Sadum? Just like that? She would accept him that easily? He was a member of her family, one of her sons, already? Tano stared at her, wanting to hug her, wanting“Tell her how we met,” Remin said between bites, and then moaned with pleasure. “Anoha Alanohi, this is good.” The memory had never faded, and Tano smiled, happy to talk about it. “I was in love with him the moment that he spoke to me.” Mmm. Remin was full, and he wanted to fuck, and his parents were home, and Tano was at his side. Supremely content, he shifted comfortably against Tano, burying his face in Tano’s neck for a moment, just to feel the softness of Tano’s skin against him. The hand on his thigh squeezed affectionately as Tano kept talking to Sadum, and Remin sighed, happy, kissing Tano’s neck. Oohhh, yes, this was his favorite after-dinner treat. He licked his way up to Tano’s ear and lingered there for a bit before nibbling his way back down, kissing Tano’s neck some more, thinking about sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

Tano and Sadum talked about Leetesrian food, and about Sadum’s trip, and about Tano’s grandmother. Tano explained how feeding people was loving them, and the two of them spent a long while talking about how perfectly marvelous Remin was. They were getting along so well, Remin didn’t want to interrupt; he knew how important meeting his parents was to Tano, and he knew how important meeting his husband was to his parents, and he loved Sadum for accepting Tano so readily, for extending her love and her family to Tano without question. He’d known that she’d recognize Tano as right for him, good for him. “Oh, your gift!” Sadum exclaimed. “Mano, we forgot Teritano’s gift.” Remin blinked his eyes open. Had he fallen asleep? Had she just said…? Desin snorted, coughing, choking a little. Then Rini was giggling, and Talin was snickering, and Orinakin was trying to cover things over with a polite, “Oh, you got something for Tano?” She’d said Teritano. She’d said it as if it were his name, as if that were what she always called him. How long had his parents known about Tano, and how long had they been calling him that? Remin sat up, pinning his father with a look, because he knew his parents, and he knew that Sadum wouldn’t have been the one to introduce that particular nickname. Anosadum chuckled softly. “You can’t say that it’s not fitting.” “Oh, dear, blame my tongue,” Sadum said, fanning herself rapidly. “I’m sorry, Tano, I didn’t mean to - - it’s a horrible joke, but it’s affectionate, dear, it truly is.” “Teritano?” Tano’s look was puzzled. He mumbled to himself in his native dialect for a few sentences, at which Sanuk looked more interested and Sadum looked lost and Bade looked intensely curious, and then his eyes widened. “Teritano! I knew I’d heard that somewhere before, that’s what Lo Enisom - - one of our neighbors - - called his bull. What does it mean?” “Hmm,” Kudorin said, shifting cozily on the couch to rest his feet against Desin’s thigh. “Taken on its own, in the religious community, ‘tano’ is familiar shorthand for ‘tanosakumo,’ or, ‘singularly beloved child of the gods.’ And, in the ancient Anorian farming community, ‘tano’ was short for ‘teritano.’ The isakelo was the farm’s best animal, whichever animal was worth the most to the family. Which would’ve been a prize stallion on the wealthier farms, maybe a particularly good pig on the others. The teritano was whoever was fortunate enough to be bred with the isakelo.” “Ha! A particularly good pig,” Rini repeated, chortling gleefully. “Then.” Tano stared at Remin. “Yes,” Remin said, sighing.

Eyes suddenly bright with happiness, Tano burst into laughter. Seeing his reaction, everyone else laughed, too, and Remin joined in, glad that Tano didn’t take offense, amused by their family’s little joke. “We’re terrible,” Sadum said, fanning herself, giving Kudorin a scolding look. “Absolutely terrible.” “Teritano!” Tano exclaimed, as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Watching him, Remin smiled, enjoying his amusement. “Yes. Does it flatter you to be chosen to breed with the royal family’s prize stallion?” “It does!” Beaming cheerfully, Tano squeezed his thigh. “May I call you my isakelo?” “Yes,” Desin said. “Do it.” Talin snorted. “It would be fitting,” Remin decided, stretching his arm around Tano’s shoulders. “Yeah,” Rini said. “An isakelo who’s always in heat.” “Mmm, that is so true.” Remin kissed Tano’s cheek, but then he wanted to kiss Tano’s mouth, and if he did he’d need more, and he’d have to take Tano away from Sadum to get it. To distract himself from the pull of his desire, he asked, “We were talking about gifts?” “We got these for Tano in Morrain.” Sanuk carried over a small basket, placing it on the table in front of them. “Thought you might be able to do something with them.” “Thank you,” Tano said, looking astonished. “Thank you, very much, that’s so kind of you, it’s,” and then he noticed what was in the basket and said, “Oh!” “What is it?” Rini asked, coming to perch on Remin’s armrest. The basket held rinds of cheeses and mesh bags of nuts and clear glass bottles. Crudely drawn labels on the bottles suggested that some held wines while others held oils. “All the way from Morrain,” Tano said in a wondering voice, holding a bottle in careful hands. “Thank you so much, I’m so grateful.” Remin’s mouth watered as he eyed the bounty. He was grateful, too. Whatever Tano made, Remin would get to eat, and he wanted to know what that cheese tasted like. “Let’s go to the kitchen,” he suggested, “and-” “You greedy ass,” Kudorin said. Tano glanced at Remin as if checking on him, smiled at him, and went back to investigating the gift. “Are these, oh, I’ll never pronounce it,” he said, picking up a bag of nuts.

“Fuemir,” Orinakin said. “Oh, thank you, that’s terrific, that’s just what I’d hoped.” He grinned at Remin. “You’re going to love lunch tomorrow.” “What will you do with those?” Bade asked. “If all goes well, I can make them into a paste,” Tano said. “I have so many ideas, this is fantastic. I’m so grateful to you,” he told Sadum, touching her hand. “We’re only glad that you like it, dear,” she said, hugging him. “I can’t tell you how much we look forward to tasting some of your cooking. We’ll have a chance to sample it at the wedding, won’t we?” “I’d be happy to make you something now,” Tano said. “I mean, tomorrow. Whenever is convenient for you.” “We don’t want to impose,” she insisted. “You must be so busy, with your duties, and preparing for the wedding, and taking care of Remin. How are the wedding preparations coming along?” A long conversation followed that question, as Anosanim and Rini jumped in with Tano to tell Sadum all about the wedding. Then Tano and Bade talked about the basket of ingredients, poking at everything and discussing what Tano might make. Remin listened to Tano ramble, and watched his parents fuss over his brothers, and enjoyed the warmth of the moment. Seating herself gracefully on his armrest, Anosadum smoothed her hand over his hair, adding to his sense of peace. “It’s good to see you so content.” “It’s good to see you home,” he said, shifting away from Tano to embrace her. Murmuring her love for him, she kissed his forehead, her hand still moving gently over his hair. Being with her felt so right, it was hard to remember how long she’d been away. They sat together quietly for a while, and he knew that she was soaking up the moment of familial togetherness as much as he was. Then she said, in her wonderfully familiar, smooth, serene, low voice, “I always wanted it to be Tano.” Every other conversation in the room ceased. Tano, along with everyone else, looked at her, hoping for more. “He’s my favorite, too,” Kudorin agreed. “People are so tricky, it almost didn’t happen.” “It took a lot of the right choices at the right moment,” Anosadum said. “A few of the wrong choices, too. There were a few other ways it might have happened. Tano staying in Karaten and coming to the palace on a pilgrimage, falling in love with Remin and finding work under Desin. Or Tano opening a restaurant in

Nekusurin and Anikira eating there on a trip and,” she sighed. “But it was never sure to work out. There were always so many ways it could go badly.” “This way was so risky,” Kudorin said. Remin’s hand found Tano’s, and Tano gripped his fingers tightly, watching Kudorin in fascination. Remin knew that Tano was his, now, and knew that Tano wouldn’t be taken from him, but knowing how easily he could’ve missed this chance, how easily he could’ve lost this happiness, frightened him. Made him all the more grateful for every second he had Tano in his life. “There was no guarantee about Remin, but getting Tano to him was the worst part of it. Once you left Orina Anoris,” he told Tano, “you might not have come back. And if you did, not at the right time, or not in the right way.” “But this has always been Tano’s home,” Anosadum said, leaning forward with a serene smile and resting her hand on Tano’s cheek. “This will always be Tano’s home, here, with us. With you.” Her voice softened as her fingers slipped along Tano’s jaw. “I knew your parents well, Tano, and I knew your grandmother, too. They loved you very, very much, and they would be supremely proud of you for how you’ve lived your life, as proud of you as I am of my sons.”

Part 285 Tano loved Remin’s parents. Well, he’d always loved Remin’s parents, even before he’d loved Remin, but now he knew them as people, as - - as family - - not just as rulers. Now that he’d sat down with Sadum and talked with her about food and family and Remin’s childhood, and seen for himself how warm and loving and gracious she was, how sensitive to people’s feelings, quick to smile, quick to laugh, he absolutely adored her, and wanted to be good to her, wanted to make sure that the world was kind to her. Now that he’d sat down with Anosadum and held her smooth, graceful hands and looked into her wise, vibrant eyes and talked about his parents, about his grandmother, about love and the gods and what it really meant to be Anorian, he felt as if he would do anything for her, as if they’d known each other forever, as if they understood each other in the most frank manner. He hadn’t had enough time to speak with Remin’s father yet, not one-on-one like he wanted to, but he looked forward to it. The whole family had stayed up talking until Anosukinom had left them to raise the sun, and Tano had barely had time to get off a few times with Remin before hurrying off to the kitchen. He’d brought his terrific new basket of foreign delights with him, and he was having the best time experimenting. He’d read some great recipes involving fuemir paste in his precious Jacacean cookbooks, and these new cheeses were so inspiring he wished that he had a dozen more rinds of them.

While he did decide to dedicate most of the ingredients to Remin’s food, he snuck a little here and there into King Xio Voe’s dishes. With such premium, gourmet ingredients on hand, he couldn’t resist making the most of them, and he knew that King Xio Voe would appreciate the delicious nuance of flavors. He also gave a bottle of oil to Lo Ariside for her personal cooking, knowing what good use she’d make of it and how much she’d enjoy it. When she tried to resist, he insisted. Food, after all, should be shared. He sent Koso out to gather information for him early that day, and Koso reported back that Anosadum would be spending the day out with her siblings, Sadum would be spending the day with her three youngest sons, and Sanuk would be spending the day in the palace, catching up with old friends in town for the wedding. In between his other duties and his cheerful experimentation, Tano made a couple of old-fashioned Anorian dishes, the kind of food he’d eaten in his own childhood. After lunch with Remin, he took a tray and a bottle of wine and went to the public drawing room where Sanuk was receiving guests. The door was open; the only people in the bright, orange room were Sanuk and an old woman. Tano entered with respectful bows and polite words, not wanting to interrupt. The woman was just leaving, and while Sanuk said good-bye, Tano opened the wine and poured a glass. “Pour one for yourself,” Sanuk said, closing the door. With a smile, Tano said, “No thank you. It’s very kind of you, but I have to get back to the kitchen.” “Sit,” Sanuk said, and Sanuk’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder, pushing him into a comfortable chair. “This won’t take long.” This what? Wondering what Sanuk wanted, Tano folded his hands in his lap and smiled politely. “I thought that you might want to eat with friends,” he explained, as Sanuk took a seat before the crowded tray. Handing him a full wineglass, Sanuk sat back and looked at him. Taking a sip, Tano smiled. Sanuk’s silence was starting to make him nervous. He took another sip, for something to do. “Your time in Morrain sounds so interesting. Remin’s told me so much about their culture. The way they schedule their day around worship. At first it sounded so - - you’ll forgive me - - disruptive, stopping so often to worship or to pray, like you’d never get anything done. Not the praying itself, of course, just the repeated scheduled breaks in the day. It sounds like I’d always be in the middle of something, kneading dough or brushing my teeth or talking to someone, and then I’d have to run off to worship, and then I’d come back

and forget what I’d been doing, and have to start all over. It breaks up the day so much, I picture myself talking to Lo Ariside, planning dinner, and then dashing off to pray, and coming back, ‘Where were we, right, I think that we should make rice,’ run off to pray, come back, ‘and some fish, I’ll send,’ run off to pray, come back, ‘Koso to the market, what do you think about dessert?’ And how long would it take her to answer? But I know it’s not really like that at all, and they’re right to spend so much of their time in contemplation of their gods. It sounds so nice, actually, the ringing of the gong and the bells, everyone coming together so often to worship. And spending so much time in prayer sounds like the right way to live, don’t you think? I mean, I pray all of the time, I’m always stopping to thank the gods for something or other. There’s so much to say to them.” Crossing his legs, Sanuk just looked at him. Tano wanted to ask if Sanuk were trying to make him nervous on purpose, but that would’ve been rude, and he couldn’t stand to be rude to people, especially not someone older, his future father-in-law, Remin’s father, the former king. Since they were face-to-face, he decided to take the opportunity to say some of the things he’d wanted to say. “I’m really glad to be able to speak with you. You were a terrific ruler, I remember when you visited Karaten, everyone thought only the best of you. You’ve been a great father, you’ve reared great sons. If you have any questions about my suitability as a husband, or if you have any advice, I’d love to hear it. I really want to be a good husband to Remin. It’s a gift, a true blessing, to know Remin at all, and to be here in the palace.” “We’re both honest men.” Sanuk took a swallow of wine. “Tell me that you’re not with Remin for his wealth, for his title, or for his power.” “What? I’m not with Remin for his wealth, his title, or his power,” Tano said, dismayed. “You can’t possibly think that. He’s your own son, you know how wonderful he is. He’s an exciting, inspiring, magnificent man. There’s so much more to him than his position. It’s a big part of him, I don’t discount it, it’s a large part of his passion and his devotion, but he’s so much more than that. I would never let him marry anyone who was just after his money, that’s atrocious, that’s disgusting! I was worried about that, when he was dating, I worried that he’d fall for someone who didn’t fully appreciate him, but he’s smarter than that. And Ilanosa would never approve that kind of marriage, Anosukinom would never let Remin know that kind of misery.” “You grew up dirt poor,” Sanuk said. “Access to that kind of wealth must mean something to you.” Tano had to laugh at that. “It probably should mean more than it does. Really, to me, it just means that I can buy good ingredients - - really high-quality, superior

ingredients, and the best equipment. You should see the knives I work with, I can butcher a pig like I’m cutting through milk. That’s probably a terrible analogy, I’m sorry, but you know what I mean. Remin would’ve phrased that much better, his words are so inspired. But, yeah, I just use money for better and better ingredients, so I can feed everyone better food. And I’ve been talking with Remin about using it to serve the gods and serve the community. Providing better food to clinics, or to people who need help, especially children in need or older citizens with less income or who have trouble cooking for themselves, that sort of thing. You’ve spent time all over the country, you must have a keen idea of where that help would be the most welcome.” Sighing, Sanuk took another swallow and re-crossed his legs. “I’m going to give this one more shot.” Leaning forward, he eyed Tano darkly. “Remin’s marrying you so he can get laid, and you’ll never stay faithful.” “Faithful!” Tano would’ve been insulted if someone else had said it, but he knew that Sanuk was only looking out for Remin. “My heart would never stray from Remin. I love him completely, with all of myself. I’ll cook for other men, I’ll partner with other men, but I will never love anyone the way I love Remin. That’s absolutely absurd and if I didn’t respect you so much, I’d start cursing. I love him for his strengths and his flaws and his passions and his depth, I love him for what he gives me and what he allows me to give him, I love him the way I love life, wholly and absolutely and instinctively. I could never be untrue to him. I could never hurt him or betray his trust. If I do, because I’m human and I’m fallible and I’m capable of screwing anything up, even something so precious, then I will do everything I can to become better than that, to minimize the hurt, to grow into a stronger person so I never do it again. But being unfaithful? Committing my heart to someone else, anyone else? I can’t even imagine it. That doesn’t seem possible. The only person who calls to me like Remin does is maybe Anosukinom, but that’s so different, it’s not at all like being unfaithful. You know about that.” Sanuk looked at him the way Prince Desin sometimes looked at people when he found them perplexingly amusing. “Remin’s marrying you so that he can get laid?” “I don’t mean any offense, but that’s nonsensical, don’t you think?” Tano asked. “Would Ilanosa bless a union just so that Remin could have sex? Of course he wants to get laid, I want him to get laid. If you mean to insinuate that sex is a large part of our relationship, yes, it is, that’s true. Remin has a very strong sex drive, but then so do I. I’d be a horrible match for Remin if I didn’t understand him sexually. I can’t wait to partner with him uninhibitedly. And,” to be honest, “as often as possible.”

Shaking his head, Sanuk smiled at Tano, raising his glass. “Welcome to the family.” With a blessing to a happy couple, Remin turned away. As he exited the temple, he found Sanuk waiting for him. Pleased, he hugged his father. “Wherever the wild stream runs, it forever owes its very existence to the mighty river.” “Yes, I love you, too,” Sanuk said, with a fond look. “Your chef brought me lunch today.” Remin would’ve considered that a clever move on Tano’s part to win Sanuk over, but he knew that it had been an act of guileless generosity. “What did he make?” There wasn’t much chance of leftovers, unfortunately. There never was, with Tano’s cooking. “He made me proud of you, for one.” Sanuk’s arm around his shoulders squeezed a chuckle out of him. “And he made me like him.” Glad of that, Remin hugged Sanuk again. “I knew that you’d like him.” “I couldn’t get him drunk, but I did get him to speak in dialect. It was good to hear it again. Makes me want to visit the country.” Remin grinned. “Eh, eh tal’ la eh fra ta sah, eh? Na la eh fra ta seet, en’ oos?” Rini was so glad to have his parents home! The palace was busy with foreigners and out-of-town guests and family everywhere, with everybody coming to celebrate Remin’s wedding and visit his parents. Tano made him little bags of dried fruit and sugared nuts to give to people, and he carried around a small sack of them, passing them out and making new friends. All anyone wanted to talk about was Remin, Remin’s wedding, Remin’s love life, and Remin some more. It was fun, though, to see everyone so happy and excited and full of anticipation. And after a couple of days, everybody had a personal story of walking in on Remin and Tano making out somewhere. Sadum thought that Tano was the best thing ever; she was thrilled that Remin was marrying someone who kept him well-fed. She spent a lot of time with Talin. That wasn’t too odd; Talin was her baby, and she’d always doted on him. Still, Talin wasn’t that fascinating, not more than any of Rini’s other brothers, and eventually Rini asked her what they talked about. “You know Talin,” she said fondly, rubbing lotion into his hands. “It’s not always what he says, but sometimes what he doesn’t say.” Rini rolled his eyes at that, and

she gave him a look that would’ve been scolding if it hadn’t been so affectionate. “We talk about his work, and his goals. We talk about Anosanim.” Art, Talin, and Anosanim. The only things Talin really cared about. “What are his goals, anyway?” “He wants what any of us want,” Sadum said, releasing his hand and replacing the lid on the bottle. “To serve the gods, to please Anosukinom, to leave Orina Anoris a better place than he found it.” Sighing, she touched Rini’s hair, looking into his eyes. “And I want for him what I want for all of my sons. To be happy, to be fulfilled, to love and be loved. You understand, precious, that love is always available to you. Acceptance and forgiveness are always yours. Joy is always there if you open yourself to it.” “I know.” He’d always known that. That other people didn’t know it was what bothered him. “My precious gift,” she murmured in Leetesrian, hugging him. Nestling close, he hugged her back, closing his eyes. “It’ll be okay,” he promised her, feeling so safe and so loved in her embrace. “I think we all figure it out before we complete our lives, even if it’s right at the end.” It happened just the way Bade had known that it would. Well, not the particular details - - he was taking a break from his hosting duties to visit the bathroom, and he’d barely stopped urinating before Kudorin was lounging against the sink asking, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the field?” as if he’d known all along that his family was coming to Orina Anoris today, and he hadn’t guessed that he’d be in the bathroom specifically, but he’d known that Kudorin would be so impossibly playful about it, in that teasing, predictably unpredictable way that Kudorin had. So he’d washed his hands and sent word to Orinakin and rushed to the field, and that had gone the way he’d guessed it would, too, his father gruff and Vade vomiting and everyone fluttering around his mother helplessly. Tiko looked inexplicably more mature, and Bade couldn’t help but notice how well-dressed everyone was. They hadn’t dressed like paupers, before, but his mother’s attire looked different, somehow. The lace, and the buttons, and were those new jewels? New jewels? Bade wanted to ask about them, but that would be uncouth, so he waited until after everyone was leaving the throne room to pull Vade aside. Vade was talking excitedly about a dozen things at once, asking him about Tano and the wedding and the guests and Orinakin, but he interrupted to ask, “Is Mother wearing a new necklace?”

“What?” Vade glanced in the direction she and their father had walked away in, as if trying to refresh his memory about what she had on that day. “Yeah, the - - oh, you miss everything! Come home more often!” Vade smacked his arm, looking irritated. “It’s a gift, Father got it for their anniversary.” Bade hadn’t had new jewelry until he’d married Orinakin. His family had been wealthy, of course, and they’d properly kept up appearances, but they’d invested carefully, choosing their luxuries wisely. His mother periodically had some jewels reset, updating old pieces, but a new necklace? Did that mean - - were things really improving? The way he’d hoped? Had it really made a difference, already? He looked at Vade, knowing that Vade would read the questions in his eyes, not wanting to ask probing questions in public but burning with hope and curiosity. Vade grinned at him, then glanced around and mumbled in hasty Nosupolin, “Things are going pretty well at home. Lots of visitors. Father’s been in touch with some people you might know.” Vade gave him a significant look. “I don’t have a different attendant for each fingernail, or anything, but,” Vade shrugged, still grinning. “Like the farmers say, even if you can’t afford new horses, at least the ones you have can eat better hay.” As soon as dinner ended, Rini and Selorin snatched up Vade. Bade spent his evening with his parents and Tiko, talking and catching up and eating some of Tano’s Nosupolin pastries. After his parents went to bed, Bade tucked up on the couch with Orinakin, making out and missing Vade. He didn’t have to miss Vade for long, though, because soon Selorin brought him back, laughing and disheveled and smelling like sex and huunasik. Apparently they’d been playing drinking games with the belas, and Rini had won. While Selorin went back to the belas, Bade shoved Vade into the shower. With water running in the background, Orinakin stretched out with Bade in bed. Orinakin’s kisses were a familiar fantasy, and Bade was glad to have Orinakin and Vade both, together, so close. Orinakin’s fingers drifted down his ribcage. “I’m sorry that my brothers led Vade into their debauchery.” If only that were the case. “That’s why he comes to Orina Anoris.” Orinakin’s smile was kind. “There are a few other compelling reasons for him to visit, I think.” The water stopped. Moments later, Vade peered around the doorway. Looking relieved that they weren’t currently engaging in sex, he gestured vaguely at nothing. “Thanks for the shower. I’ll go so you can - - I’ll see you in the morning?”

“It’s your first night here and we’ve hardly seen you,” Orinakin argued. “Come here, spend the night.” Vade hesitated, then grinned, stepping forward. “Okay. Bade, we’ll see you later, all-” “Asshole,” Bade muttered, yanking him onto the bed. “I’m staying in the middle.” It took a moment for everyone to settle down; there was a lot of adjusting of covers, as well as pinching and poking and kneeing in sensitive areas. Then Bade was tucked cozily between Orinakin and Vade, and Vade’s familiar face and deep blue eyes were right there in front of him, and he poked Vade one last time, and Vade poked back, and then they talked. About everything. And it was a warm Anorian night, but for a moment, he felt as if he were back in Nosupolis again, in a drafty castle in the cold mountain air, tucked under a pile of quilts, whispering with Vade about the day’s adventures.

When he’d been abroad, Tano had thought that someday he might find someone to spend his life with. A long-time boyfriend, or a husband. And that husband might have parents who lived nearby, might have a couple of siblings, a niece or nephew. When he’d moved back to Orina Anoris, he’d thought that if he stayed in Orikodisata long enough, he’d make a few close friends, and they might spend some evenings eating and drinking together, telling jokes and playing card games. He’d pictured it as a small set of people seated cozily around a little table in someone’s home. What he hadn’t thought of, what he hadn’t imagined, was Anoremin A Hiti, and seven noisy brothers, and three loving parents, and a group of strong-willed aunts and uncles, and a dizzying array of laughing, tumbling cousins and nieces and nephews, and a bunch of hairy Nosupolins, to boot, plus, of all things, The Heir to the Jacacean Empire. And Lo Ariside and Chef Akeno and Chef Kanase and Sulano and Rere and a small, green tiger. The closer the wedding drew, the more people crowded into the city, into the palace. Some nights the palace hosted formal events: a ball, a sports exhibition in the stadium, a poetry reading. Some nights a few uncles stopped by and a few cousins were around and then Rini asked if he wanted to help baby-sit and suddenly everyone was grouping up, some people playing cards and some people playing dice and some people dancing in one corner and Prince Orinakin entertaining the children - - and a good number of the adults - - with wild tales of

romance and danger, which Tano thought at first were just made up but turned out to be entirely accurate historical accounts. Tano hated to remove himself from the cheerful bustle, but he couldn’t resist darting out for a little bit to make snacks. Passing around good food only made the evening more of a fulfilling, communal experience. He quickly found himself forming a small cooking committee with a few of Remin’s cousins, who came to the kitchens with him and made snacks with him and swapped recipes. Cooking with family was a very rewarding experience for Tano, and some nights a second informal party blossomed in the kitchen as Remin’s aunts and uncles sent their children and grandchildren in search of food. He quickly came to know the royal family’s tastes, and he enjoyed the challenge of tailoring dishes to suit such a variety of palates. Having so much family around so constantly was an abundance of blessings to Tano, and he was happy to get to know everyone, to match names to faces and discover nuances of personality. Many of the core family members’ names were well-known to him; what kind of Anorian couldn’t name every single one of the Seven Siblings’ children? It was a joy to know all of these people personally, whom he’d adored from afar for so long. The Anorian members of his new family, he embraced enthusiastically. The Nosupolin members of his new family, he was immediately fond of. He already loved Prince Bade, he found Queen Wirra to be a lovely and patient woman, he thought that Prince Tiko was the epitome of what any foreign prince should be, he’d gotten along immensely well with Prince Vade from their first introduction, he found King Mindo very interesting, and he found King Mindo’s beard to be fascinating. And then there were the Jacaceans. He hadn’t met them yet, and he wasn’t quite sure about calling them family, because he didn’t think that they’d consider him family in return. King Xio Voe had said, when Prince Vade had asked, that he did think of Tano as a brother. He’d said it in his usual icy, factual way: “Relation by marriage is relation by law. A brother-in-law is, by definition, a brother.” If Tano had to guess, though, he’d say that Emperor Sei probably thought of him as King Xio Voe’s chef, not a new son. And that was okay, really, because, no matter how loyal he was to King Xio Voe, he still thought that Jacaceans in general were calculating, cruel, and dangerous. He knew that he shouldn’t think that way; after all, Prince Orinakin thought differently, and of the two of them, Prince Orinakin knew way, way more about the subject than he did, and what kind of ignorant fool would disregard Prince Orinakin’s opinion about international politics?

Still, Jacaceans were capable of anything. The Jacacean Empire had a great deal of power, and used that power to start wars and kill people. Tano couldn’t understand that, and didn’t want to. But King Xio Voe’s family was, when it came down to it, just a bunch of people. A father and a mother and a sister and two brothers who, by all accounts, thought the world of King Xio Voe. Tano wanted to like them. He wanted them to enjoy their visit. And then King Xio Voe told him that, when the imperial family arrived in Orina Anoris, Tano would be responsible for their meals. He would have to cook for Emperor Sei. He would have to cook for the imperial family. He’d be cooking for King Xio Voe’s family. No matter how he thought of it, his mind boggled. He felt honored and flattered and nervous and not quite sure that he believed it. Cooking for Emperor Sei? Not that long ago, he’d been spooning up beans in Vafiance. Shit, not that long ago, he’d been unable to churn butter if he’d ejaculated recently. This was a test, this was real pressure, this was cooking for someone so privileged and so exacting that he’d made a son like King Xio Voe. Cooking for the Anorian royal family, exciting and rewarding and thrilling as it was, didn’t involve the same kind of challenge. If a servant messed up in front of Anosukinom, even if Anosukinom had to fire him, Anosukinom would always love him. If a servant messed up in front of Emperor Sei, what happened? Being ejected from the imperial palace was probably likely, but Tano’s mind conjured up all sorts of other ideas, like being shackled in a dungeon or drowned in the canals or beheaded. Anosukinom was a deity, but a very loving deity. Emperor Sei had an army. And used it. Tano was grateful, as always, for the skilled, experienced, helpful kitchen staff. As he prepared for the wedding, he delegated his ass off. He wanted to do everything himself, but he couldn’t, especially if he wanted to enjoy any free time, especially if he wanted to spend time with Remin. Lo Ariside was an invaluable second-incommand, and he pulled heavily on Chef Kanase’s cooks. Chef Akeno was wonderfully generous with her time, and Koso was capable of working hard as long as someone kept a close eye on him. The day the imperial family was scheduled to arrive, Remin invited Tano to join the greeting in the throne room. Eager as Tano was to see King Xio Voe’s family for himself, he declined. The wedding was only days away and he had to perfect meals for Emperor Xio Sei. He didn’t have time to stand around for pomp and

speeches. It kind of made him marvel that he felt that way. Since when was he too busy to be near Anosukinom? Since when did he have the luxury of refusing to see Emperor Sei? How horribly mangled were his priorities? But his priorities were, he supposed, the same as they’d always been. Doing his best to serve and nourish and take care of the people most important to him was more important than dazzling himself by being in Emperor Sei’s presence. If Anosukinom had asked him to be there, he’d say yes, because he’d go wherever Anosukinom wanted him to be, whenever Anosukinom wanted him to be there. But at this point, he could best serve Anosukinom by taking care of Anosukinom’s guests and family, and that meant getting people fed. Xio Voe’s parents were as hard as ever. They were like stone. Unyielding, unaffected, uncompromising. Rini greeted them very respectfully and very carefully. As soon as their backs were turned, he pulled their kids aside. Hugging Wae and Kei and Dei, he handed out gifts and ruffled their poise and asked them how they were. Kei and Dei blushed and shied away from him and smiled like they couldn’t help it, and after a few minutes they started opening up, relaxing as much as they ever did. Wae-Wae brushed him off until he got her talking about bugs. Rini didn’t particularly like talking about bugs, but he did like talking to Wae-Wae, and it was nice to see her so chatty and animated. He really wanted to tell her about the rare Anorian insects Xio Voe had pinned and examined and sketched for her, just to make her happy, but he didn’t want to ruin a special brother-sister moment. He knew how much it would mean to her, he just wasn’t sure whether the most significant part, for her, was the bug stuff, or the fact that it came from Xio Voe. He could only imagine what it had been like to grow up with Xio Voe - - or not even “with,” really, more like after or under or in the shadow of. Having Xio Voe voluntarily go out of his way to express interest in her personal hobby had to shake Wae-Wae’s world. If Rini were Wae-Wae, he’d definitely cry. He was pretty sure that Jacacean royalty never cried, though. He asked Kei and Dei about that, after the lengthy and super-formal welcome in the throne room. The three of them were in Kei’s chambers; Kei and Dei were seated like perfectly posed dolls on the sofa while Rini poked around in Kei’s trunks. “How often do you guys cry?” “Crying is an excessive display of emotion,” Kei said. “Emotion exposes weakness. The Empire is strong.” He said it in that patient, logical way he used when he thought that Rini didn’t understand basic facts of life.

“Emotion is human.” Dei glanced at Kei out of the corner of one eye, like he didn’t want to be caught saying the wrong thing. “It is healthy to acknowledge emotional actions and responses so that they can be addressed and resolved.” He smiled a little, like he was proud. “Xio Voe gave me a book about it. The Study of Emotion.” “Is that the kind of thing he talks to you about?” Rini kept nosing around Kei’s trunks so that Dei wouldn’t think he cared much about the answer. Whatever else anyone said about the imperial family, they sure dressed well. Rini wanted to borrow everything in Kei’s wardrobe. Especially, ooh, was that a corset? “We talk about a lot of things. We talk when he visits, and we keep up regular correspondence. He says that one’s youth is a time when many impressions are formed, so it’s important for me to be careful about my assumptions and associations. We talk about what I’ve done and seen and heard, and what I think about it, and what I can learn from it. Sharp critical thinking skills are an integral aspect of an intelligent life.” That last sentence sounded like a direct quotation. “It’s neat, being the little brother of someone so awesome, isn’t it?” Rini asked. “You can learn so much from him. I think that Xio Voe’s with you like Kudorin is with me, he knows how much you look up to him and he wants to be a good influence. It’s a big responsibility, being someone’s older brother, and they don’t want to mess it up. Xio Voe would probably never forgive himself if he set a bad example for you. But it happens anyway, sometimes, you know? So you have to let him be human sometimes and mess up sometimes, you have to be a good little brother and forgive him if he sets a bad example once in a while. That’s part of those critical thinking skills, not accepting everything as truth just because someone you love says it.” “You’re telling him to doubt Xio Voe,” Kei said, looking at Rini narrowly. “No, I’m not. I’m telling him to question Xio Voe once in a while.” He should’ve known not to be so obvious, but he could talk his way out of this one. “Xio Voe would encourage that, right? Theories aren’t sound until you’ve tried to poke holes through them. He’s all about, what is it, the strenuous - - rigorous? - - examination of ideas. It keeps your mind sharp.” To change the topic, he held up the shimmerysilvery corset. “Can I borrow this?” “No.” Rini looked at the corset some more, then at Kei again. “Why not?” “It’s mine.” Okay, and? “I know that it’s yours, that’s why I’m asking you if I can borrow it instead of outright taking it. Why can’t I borrow it? I want to wear it to the ball before the wedding.”

“My garments are not available for others’ use,” Kei said firmly. Rini laughed. “You don’t share at all? What if Dei-Dei wanted to wear it?” “I have my own apparel,” Dei said, like he was confused. “We are not paupers, forced to forage and scavenge among others’ belongings.” “You’re brothers. You should borrow each other’s stuff. Don’t you trade books? Wouldn’t you let him use your telescope or ride your horse?” “Clothing is of a more personal nature. It would be inappropriate,” Kei said decisively. Okay. Rini saw what he had to do now. “I’m going to borrow Xio Voe’s clothes,” he said, getting up. “If he lets me, then you’ll let me borrow this. Deal?” “He’s your king,” Dei said, almost whispering it. “Xio Dei is right,” Kei said. “It would be inappropriate for you to wear the garments of your king.” “He’s my brother,” Rini argued. “I’ve worn Kudorin’s clothes before, and Anikira’s. Why can’t I wear Xio Voe’s?” “If others enable your misbehavior, that reflects upon them,” Kei said. “I will not take the same steps.” Hmm. Rini ran his fingers over the fine, silvery silk. “If I steal it, and wear it, and give it back to you, what will you do? Tell on me? Try to get me in trouble? Charge me with theft?” “Charging you with theft has the potential to cause a political rift I would prefer to avoid,” Kei said. “I must ask you not to put me in that position.” “What if you give it to me?” Rini asked. “As a gift?” “Why would I do that?” “To be nice to me,” Rini said. “Because I want it.” “We should prepare for dinner,” Dei said uneasily. At that, Rini gave in, dropping the corset back into the trunk. “Just so you know, you can borrow anything of mine whenever you want it.” He grinned, sitting on the armrest and touching Dei’s hair. “And I have a lot of great stuff.” Glowing at the touch and looking relieved at the break in tension, Dei suggested, “You could have one made, one of your own. They’re very popular.” “Yes,” Kei said. His gaze skittered over Rini and he blushed, glancing away. “You would look very handsome.”

This close to such an important dinner for so many people, the kitchens were in an uproar. Even the pantries were in chaos, and Remin was relieved to make it to Tano’s kitchen without incident. He didn’t want to be a distraction, but he knew how important this meal was to Tano, and he wanted to offer whatever moral support he could. Spotting him, Tano lit up, looking happy and relieved to see him. “Remin!” Hurrying across the kitchen, ducking a pan of hot water, Tano greeted him with a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” “You always are,” Remin murmured with a smile, keeping him close and nuzzling behind his ear. “How’s it going?” “Pretty well, considering it’s the most important meal we’ve ever produced together,” Tano said, gaze sweeping the kitchen. “We’re focusing on the fun of embracing the challenge.” He was rubbing his hands unceasingly on his apron, a sure sign of frayed nerves, but he was smiling determinedly, pushing himself to stay optimistic. Remin read the room’s mood, taking in expressions, body language, and the state of the countertops. Everyone seemed grim - - there had been setbacks - - but focused. They just wanted to get through the meal now and pull it off without embarrassment. The goal was to keep the problems in the kitchen from spilling over onto the dinner table. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Remin asked, his hand on Tano’s back. Tano shot him a hopeful, questioning look. “Would you mind?” Oh. “Yes, of course,” Remin said, touched that Tano would ask. Taking Tano’s hand, he inhaled, lifting his gaze slightly, reaching out to the gods. “Anoha Adanotu, this is a time when people of all nations and all faiths come together in celebration. Anoha Anosukinom, we seek to feed the people at your table tonight, members of your family, your beloved guests. With the grace and mercy of the gods, let us provide food worthy of Anosukinom’s table. With the help of Akanoti and Edanola and Esanoto, with the sacrifices of Matanori and Ebanosa, let us unite our skill, our love, and our hard work into this meal. Let Inanodu guide our thoughts as we prepare food which is filling and nutritious, satisfying physical needs and promoting health. Let Alanohi guide our hands as we prepare food which is appealing and delicious, pleasing the palate. We find ourselves faced with a professional challenge tonight, yet we know that, with your help, we will overcome all difficulties. Praise the gods. Anoha.” “Anoha,” everyone said, some murmuring it in reverence, some sounding relieved. The tension in the room faded now as hope rose in rejuvenated spirits.

“Thank you,” Tano said, eyes sparkling with new energy. “I love you,” Remin said, kissing him. “Whatever the Emperor thinks of it, I’m proud of you.” Every single dish received as much care and attention as a fussy infant. Tano was tasting things and issuing orders and adjusting seasonings until the last second, even sending Koso chasing after one of the servers with a sprig of mint. They were feeding seven people for each course, and instead of doing the smart thing and basing Remin’s dishes on the imperial family’s dishes, Tano had done the loving, indulgent thing and somehow ended up making Remin’s dishes as unlike the other meals as possible. The six Jacaceans, fortunately, were eating almost exactly the same thing, with modifications for personal tastes. Tano was making eight of everything, sending out the six best, and letting his assistants and fellow cooks eat the remaining two. It wasn’t his usual method, but he wasn’t going to risk only making six and then dropping one on the floor, for his first night feeding Emperor Sei. Working in a restaurant was nothing like working for royalty. Customers expected excellent service, but if someone in the kitchen messed up, they’d just walk out or complain or refuse to pay. Royalty was used to being pampered, accustomed to excellent service, and expected unfailing quality. If a king expected to be served steak, and someone burned the steak to ashes, Tano couldn’t just go to the king and say, “Sorry, we don’t have steak for you, how about this nice stew instead?” Tano had to find and deliver the expected steak. It was a level of unfailing excellence that required inhuman problem-solving skills, and Tano might’ve resented it, if he’d worked for a different royal family. Fortunately, Tano worked for the Seven Siblings, and thought that consistent perfection was the least he could do. When they sent out the last course, everyone just sort of staggered around, looking exhausted. Tano felt a sense of relief, now that it was out of his hands, and found new, nervous energy as he waited for the verdict. He couldn’t stop cooking, so he made sandwiches for everyone who’d pitched in, and Chef Akeno opened a bottle of cheap wine, and they all joked and gossiped as they cleaned up. As people said good night, Tano settled in comfortably at a counter, kneading dough, listening to Chef Akeno and Lo Ariside’s pleasant conversation. “Hey, hey.” Prince Rini bounded into the kitchen, dressed in silver and blue. “Come on, Remin wants to introduce you to Wae-Wae and Kei and Dei.”

King Xio Voe’s sister and brothers? Emperor Sei’s children? “Now?” Aghast, Tano stared down at himself. Prince Rini couldn’t possibly be serious. “I have to bathe and change clothes and-” “Just take off your apron. You look fine.” “I look fine to ride a horse! I look fine to pull weeds! I look fine to slop pigs!” Tano protested. “I don’t look fine to be introduced to royalty!” “They’re just Xio Voe’s siblings,” Prince Rini said. “They understand that you’ve been working. I’ll explain, I’ll apologize, don’t worry about it.” “Chef Pitok,” Lo Ariside said. “It wouldn’t take more than a moment with soap and water, and you have that spare outfit in the cupboard.” He did! “Yes, thank you!” He’d forgotten about that, he’d left it there to change into the next time Remin ever sent for him suddenly. “Okay, cool,” Rini said. “Be super quick.” He grinned, plucking at Tano’s apron. “You need help scrubbing?” Grinning back, Tano brushed his fingers aside. “Not if you want me to hurry.” Ducking into a bathroom, he splashed around suds hastily, then put on his spare set of clothes. It was a tight red tank top and small red-and-white plaid shorts, so it wasn’t as formal as he would’ve preferred for a first meeting, but it was clean. Chef Akeno quickly did his eyeliner, and Prince Rini took him to meet the Jacaceans. They were in an elegantly furnished white-and-gold room. Now that Tano spent so much time with Remin’s family, he was used to being around people who wore diamonds like other people wore socks, but King Xio Voe’s siblings were gorgeously well-dressed. They were also very good-looking, with small, refined features and perfectly groomed white-blond hair. For kids, they had the reserve and poise of adults decades older. Princess Xio Wae greeted him with exacting politeness and complimented his cooking skill. Prince Xio Kei was very formal but pink in the face. When Tano said that he’d cook anything they liked during their visit and asked about their preferences in snacks, treats, and desserts, Prince Xio Dei became very interested in the conversation. Tano was used to kids who could be well-behaved and respectful when the occasion called for it, but were also relaxed and playful the rest of the time. These three, especially the older two, seemed not to be on their best behavior so much as on their regular, everyday behavior. He might have thought, maybe, that it was due to their titles; they probably spent a lot of time in more adult, formal situations and weren’t as encouraged to run free as average citizens were. But the Seven

Siblings were very good at throwing formality aside, and he’d seen Prince Bade very relaxed and without pretensions. It wasn’t necessarily a function of royalty, then, but more of a cultural phenomenon. A Jacacean thing. This rigidity was one thing in an adult like King Xio Voe, but seeing it in children was unsettling. Prince Xio Dei responded well to some of Prince Rini’s jokes and to Tano’s suggestion of feeding him various foreign desserts - - which Tano introduced as a cultural lesson, a way to experience foreign delicacies - - but Princess Xio Wae was unrelentingly formal and Prince Xio Kei seemed increasingly tense. And then King Xio Voe walked into the room, and it was like Anosukinom had walked into a room of Anorians. Their faces lit up, eyes bright, lips twitching with barely suppressed smiles. They were still perfectly formal, still very proper, Prince Xio Dei’s posture improving immediately, but they were alert to the king’s every movement, eager for his every word, as if he were Remin in a crowd of priests. Within minutes, they were more talkative, more engaged, smiling without reserve. They blossomed under the king’s attention, as if his presence released latent vigor. Conversation flowed freely, and Princess Xio Wae even laughed a lovely, natural, throaty laugh. Tano and Remin were about to take Prince Xio Dei to the kitchen for a snack when King Xio Voe intervened. Sending Remin and Prince Xio Dei ahead, King Xio Voe drew Tano into another room, closing the door. Concerned, Tano wondered if he’d done something culturally displeasing. As he’d learned in Ilaeia, there were odd tricks to cultural nuance, and what was a perfectly innocuous comment in one country could be a scathing insult in another. When King Xio Voe stood directly in front of him like this, Tano had to tilt his chin the whole way back to make eye contact. “Consider it the request of a king or the warning of a brother,” King Xio Voe said in his deep, icy voice. “If it ever occurs to you to flirt with the affections of Prince Xio Kei, let the impulse pass unheeded. He may welcome your attention, but I will not.” What? “He’s just a kid!” Tano protested. “I mean, I know that he’s not a toddler, or anything, but he’s not even twenty yet. I’d never - - I’m sorry, did I? Accidentally? I don’t know what flirting is like, in Jacacea.” King Xio Voe’s expressionless face reminded him that he probably wasn’t replying properly, so he started over. “You’re right, Your Majesty, that would be entirely inappropriate. I know how I was at his age, adults might not have been looking at me but I sure was looking at them. I’d hate for him to get the wrong idea, and I’d never want to confuse him or encourage him that way. I’ll be careful to be sensitive about that, and I’ll ask Remin to catch

me if I err. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Your Majesty. I’ll do my best.” King Xio Voe’s expression didn’t change. “Your best should suffice.” Mulling over King Xio Voe’s fraternal streak, Tano went to catch up with the others. Playing in the kitchen with Remin and Prince Xio Dei was fun. The young prince was smart, inquisitive, and good-natured. Tano put him to physical tasks to give him something to focus his energy on, and the three of them talked about food and farming and Jacacea and religion. Prince Xio Dei wanted to ask Remin all about the gods, and Tano wanted to learn about life in Seijaces, and Remin wanted them to finish cooking so that he could eat. Cousins started to pour in, and Prince Desin brought Norisa, and everyone treated Prince Xio Dei with great affection and respect, and the kids all gathered around to watch Prince Desin feed the cat, and Tano thought that having more Jacaceans in the family might work out very well after all. Vade flopped facedown across Bade’s bed. Knowing that he’d spend all evening tonight listening respectfully to a bunch of self-important, long-winded people hold lengthy, dull, pompous conversations, he probably should’ve gotten some sleep last night. But the belas had wanted to play new games, and being Ela’s favorite pony had been way more appealing than something as mundane as sleep. He didn’t know how Bade lived like this. Life with Orinakin meant doing this every night, month after month. In foreign languages! Vade couldn’t take it. Life in Nosupolis might be quiet, but Vade would rather be bored for lack of something to do than bored by other people actively trying to smother him with the dullness of their verbosity. What had that last man even been talking about? Vade had heard nothing but, “Blah, blah, blah-de-blah, I’m full of crap,” the whole time. A careless smack on his ass; Bade sprawled out beside him. His ass was still a little tender from last night’s spankings, but he decided not to comment on it. He grunted at Bade, and Bade grunted back. Vade thought about taking a nap. Bade’s bed was absurdly comfortable, and was covered with a soft, nubby, purple blanket that seemed to be from whichever foreign country made the best blankets in the world. “Oh, this is nice.” A hot little “yes, yes, please fuck me” shiver ran up Vade’s back at the sound of Remin’s voice. The sound of Remin’s dirty, sexy, appraising, satisfied voice. How did Remin make himself sound like that - - that would’ve been the most pressing

question, the most obvious query, if the truly important question weren’t: how did Remin manage to sound like that all of the time now? The last time Vade had seen Remin, Remin had been a mixture of the professional parts of Orinakin and the pedantic parts of Selorin, majestic and refined and effortlessly wielding immense power. He’d also been alternately dry and skittish; his every move had been blazingly erotic, but he clearly hadn’t wanted it to be. His raw sexuality had been an undeniable but irrepressible part of him, something he couldn’t help, something he couldn’t turn off, and he’d combated it by being aloof and dignified and withdrawn. He wasn’t trying to combat it anymore. He was - - and nothing could have prepared Vade for this - - encouraging it, using it, enjoying it. Remin was in full command of his seductive, sensual nature, and he clearly liked it, and Vade felt like a helpless fly caught in the web of the world’s most alluring spider. Remin moved like someone who was not only incredibly sexual but was comfortable being that way, like someone who got a lot of sex and wanted a lot more, like someone who saw sexual possibility in everything, ever, and loved it. He’d used to look at Vade with an expression that said, “I realize that you want me, and I wish that you’d stop it, because you’re making me uncomfortable.” Now he wore a pleased, knowing, heavy-lidded look that said, “I know you want me, and I’m thinking about how much I’d enjoy fucking you, and if you bend over right now I will rock your world.” And his voice, his voice was always doing unbearably erotic things to Vade’s ears, and when Tano was around, fuck. Tano. Everyone’s letters had told him how fun and handsome and sexy Tano was, but now one had explained how Anorian Tano was. Anorian, in this case, meaning easy or, to put it bluntly, slutty. Tano was, as far as Vade had seen, sexually available to anyone who asked. Literally. Vade had seen men walk up, introduce themselves, and ask if Tano wanted to get off together, and Tano had said something along the lines of, “Sure, let me talk to Remin, we can fuck later tonight.” Tano was confident and friendly and a lot of fun to be around - - he knew everything about food, and he tried to answer all of Vade’s questions, and he liked sharing information - - and it didn’t hurt that he dressed like someone who would really rather be naked. He usually had on less than Rini. And apparently he dressed that way because Remin liked to look at him. Fuck. It wasn’t enough that Anorian royalty had their own harems, now they got to marry their own personal enthusiastic sex slaves? Remin was unbearably sexy. Tano was unbearably promising. When they were together, Vade couldn’t even pretend not to be hard. They kissed and they touched and the other evening they’d spent a couple of hours curled up on one

end of Selorin’s couch, slowly making out, whispering all sorts of things to each other that Vade knew were probably only appropriate inside a belam. Remin was. A fucking. Priest. Why weren’t priests like this in Nosupolis? Why?! At the moment, Vade’s choices were to keep his back turned to Remin so that he could hide his hard-on, which had sprung to life the instant he’d heard Remin’s voice, or roll over so that he could look at Remin. While he struggled between not being mortified versus not getting to look at Remin, who was always, always, always extremely rewarding to look at, he noticed movement out of the corner of his vision. Glancing over, he noticed a hand, a graceful, seductive, wickedly sensual hand drifting down Bade’s thigh. Bade’s thigh. At that, Vade had to roll over in disbelief. Blushing at Remin, Bade had the nerve to look flattered. Anyone else would’ve looked thrilled at the attention and desperate for more, but Bade acted like someone used to it, which really made Vade want to slap him. Or be him. “Ritek should be home tomorrow,” Remin said, and between the tone of his voice and the way his gaze flicked over to Vade, it really seemed as if he’d just said, “I’d really like it if you’d go down on me tonight.” Vade wondered if it would be inappropriate to masturbate during this conversation. Maybe not, considering the way Remin was plucking at the laces on Bade’s vest. “We’re inviting him and his family out for a private performance of an opera and a dinner together. You’re welcome to come, if you’d like. Or you can eat with Kudorin and Xio Voe and Emperor Sei.” “Which opera?” Bade asked, and how it had occurred to him to ask that question, Vade couldn’t fathom. Vade would’ve asked something more relevant, like, “Where’s the lube?” or, “Do you want me to stay like this or should I roll over so you can take me from behind?” or, “While I’m gorging myself on your dick, is it okay if I slide a couple of fingers up your ass?” Really, Vade felt as if he and Bade had never been less alike. A blur of purple in Vade’s peripheral vision suggested that Orinakin was coming into the room. Vade couldn’t be bothered to look to make sure it wasn’t actually an enormous grape instead; he couldn’t take his eyes from the way Remin’s agile fingers were toying with Bade’s laces, slowly opening Bade’s vest. Maybe Remin preferred Bade naked. Maybe Vade should strip naked and offer himself as a reasonable substitute. “Traveler’s Reprieve,” Remin said. Vade had no idea what he was talking about or why those three words went together or what was even going on anymore; he just wanted to hear more of Remin’s smooth, sexy, I’d-like-to-get-off-inside-you voice. “It’s only a few years old, and it’s fairly gory, but it’s supposedly very well-written.”

“Maybe we - - Orinakin?” Bade asked. “Are you okay?” “It feels terrific in here,” Orinakin said. Remin’s fingers slowly, lightly pulled at a lace until it slid free of another eyelet and Bade’s vest gaped open that much more. “Keep doing whatever you’re doing.” “Do you want to go out to the opera tomorrow night?” Bade asked. “And eat with Ritek’s family? Or do you need to stay here to eat with Emperor Sei?” “Whichever you’d prefer. I’d recommend a night of socializing over another evening of politics, but I know how you like to make the most out of opportunities to speak with the imperial family. Would you mind if I called a bela in here?” “No, go ahead,” Bade said. “For what?” He laughed like he’d just figured something out and said, “If you want me to give you head, we can just ask Remin to leave.” Ask Remin to leave?! Was he kidding?! “Don’t you dare,” Vade insisted, shifting closer beside Bade on the bed in the hopes that Remin’s attention might stray onto him. Seriously, it was like Vade didn’t even recognize Bade anymore. Suddenly, Bade’s laughter was oddly breathless. Vade’s gaze was still on Remin’s hand, but he could tell that Bade was blushing now because of the red flush on Bade’s chest. That was more like it. “Where’s Tano?” Bade asked, and his voice had that faint tremor to it that meant he was embarrassed about being turned on. “Why?” Remin asked, seductive and suggestive. His fingers hooked in Bade’s laces. “Do you want him in here, too?” “No,” Bade said, at the same time Vade said, “Yes.” “Poor Tano,” Remin said, sighing, and Vade wanted to offer to go down on him to make him feel better. Remin’s fingers had stopped toying and were now slowly but steadily working Bade’s vest open. “He’s been so busy with the wedding and Xio Voe’s family that he’s spending all of his time working. He only got me off twice so far today.” Bade’s vest fell open and Remin’s hand splayed across Bade’s chest, thumb brushing a nipple. “I’m so horny tonight, I can hardly wait for him.” Bade’s moan was louder than Vade’s, which only made sense, since Bade was the one actually getting touched and Vade was just watching. Orinakin made a low, pleased sound, and Remin’s thumb rubbed over Bade’s nipple again, flicking it, pinching a little, and Bade was groaning, and Vade was seriously thinking about humping Remin’s thigh, and the way Remin’s thumb teased Bade’s nipple made Vade want to spontaneously grow five more nipples just for Remin’s fondling.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Tano asked politely, as friendly as if he’d walked in to find them eating ice cream. Vade didn’t know where he’d come from, but he hoped that something good was about to happen. “Mmm.” With one final flick, Remin turned away lazily, hand dropping. “I was just waiting for you.” Leaning right in, Remin kissed Tano, and Tano’s hands immediately went to Remin’s ass. Vade couldn’t blame him; Remin’s ass looked fantastic, so firm and so pert, and wow, Remin’s tongue looked wickedly talented. While Vade stared in rapt and aroused fascination, Tano pulled off Remin’s shirt and tossed it towards the bed without looking. It landed on Bade’s leg, and the sight of Remin’s bare upper body made Vade choke-gasp-moan a little. When Remin kissed Tano’s neck in a very wanton and lascivious fashion for an activity so relatively tame, Tano whispered something in Remin’s ear that made him grab Tano’s hand and head for the door. “Good night, Orinakin.” “Good night,” Tano chimed in cheerfully, and Remin left with him. Bade sat there on the bed, legs spread, leaning back on his arms, panting, like someone abandoned in mid-dishevelment, which he pretty much was. Oh, screw it. Remin was gone, Bade was irrelevant, the only person Vade was disgracing himself in front of now was Orinakin. Closing his eyes, he shoved his hand down between his thighs. Beside him, he felt movement and heard a sudden, lusty, grateful groan as Orinakin, presumably, tackled Bade. Remin was on the prowl, on the loose, and Orina Anoris was now an even more dangerous, wonderful, sexy place than ever. Vade was starting to wonder why anyone bothered living anywhere else.

Part 286 Author’s notes: In ITL 199, we learn that the Epeixe Cujeat is a classic Soracic prayer requesting guidance. It is described as “a long and compelling prayer, beginning with extensive paragraphs praising the gods” with “celebrated lines extolling the awesome grandeur of Erixaev.” “Reoluxe zisoal rarascet” is Jacacean for “the one who ushers in another way.” It was long synonymous with Fet Kailoe, and is now used for Xio Voe as well. Further reading: ITL 91.15, ITL 135.8. From the wiki: The “caagriellia princess” was Princess Riturihi's term for her husband Roneto so that she could discreetly refer to him without alerting everyone to her private

plans. That code is now used by Prince Orinakin A Nimi to refer to his husband Prince Bade in much the same way and for the same purpose. See ITL 50.7, ITL 50.12. Anosanim had attendants fluttering around the room, fetching and opening and offering. He was seated at his vanity, meticulously applying make-up, while taking an eternity to decide which pair of shoes and which pieces of jewelry he wanted to wear. Sadum was at his side, the two of them talking about Ritek, and Ritek’s work, and how romantic Ritek was, and how devoted Ritek was, and how handsome Ritek was. Letting the conversation drift past him, Talin slumped lazily on the couch and sketched them. Anosanim’s longer, broader back, Sadum’s shorter, rounder one. The elegant drape of their clothing, the details of buttons and lace. The jeweled combs in Anosanim’s hair, the jeweled pins in Sadum’s. The way they leaned towards each other confidingly, Sadum’s hand reaching out to pat Anosanim’s arm. Talin had been in the shower when Anosanim had begun to dress, and he’d missed the first steps. Knowing that Anosanim was dressing for Ritek, specifically, and that Anosanim intended to be undressed by Ritek, specifically, he wondered. Finishing a sketch, he got up and slid a stool over beside Anosanim, taking a seat. Making an agreeable grunt when Anosanim tossed in a, “Don’t you think so, Talin?” he put a hand to Anosanim’s knee, gathering up silk. Easing Anosanim’s dress up over Anosanim’s thigh, he raised the fabric. Anosanim had on blue underwear. “Blue. You’re such a rebel,” Talin said, grinning, dropping the skirt. Giving Talin a look that was meant to be irritated but just came across as fond, Anosanim smoothed his dress back down, making it drape just so at the knee. “My undergarments aren’t the topic of discussion.” “Blue?” Sadum asked. “How interesting! Why blue?” “Ritek likes it,” Talin said. “It coordinates very nicely with orange,” Anosanim said. “It’s always been a topic of discussion,” Sadum said, folding her fan. “Most of us, out of loyalty or a sense of duty or a wish to honor tradition or genuine desire, devote ourselves entirely to our colors. But there’s always chatter and questioning and experimentation. Wearing red but keeping strictly green chambers at home.

Wearing one color in public and any other color at all in private. Wearing, like this, one color visibly and another color for undergarments. Your mother said that it often cycled. One person would relax his personal rules, and then a few more would relax theirs, and then a laid-back approach would develop, and people would wear all sorts of things at home and keep all sorts of colors in their personal decorating. And then someone would become strict and traditional, and then it would be a scramble to prove who was most devoted, who adhered most fully to the color.” “It shouldn’t be that way,” Anosanim said, aghast. “How absolutely awful. We should embrace our colors and celebrate tradition and want to align ourselves with our gods and our callings. It shouldn’t be a competition at all, that misses the point entirely!” “Was it hard for you?” Talin asked Sadum. “Moving to all black?” “I thought that it would be harder than it was,” Sadum admitted. “All of those lovely clothes I couldn’t wear anymore! But your mother was thoughtful enough to change them for me, so that I could still wear them, and some of them were so much more striking in black!” With a sigh, she patted Anosanim’s knee. “Sometimes I think that it’s harder for you children. Your father and I had time to experiment and wear whatever we liked for decades. You didn’t have that luxury.” “People are so severe about it,” Anosanim said. “Have you heard? There have been people - - priests, even! - - muttering about Xio Voe’s rings. How Kudorin didn’t change them.” “Atrocious!” Sadum straightened with dignity, fanning herself. “We all know perfectly well why the imperial rings remain the same. Kudorin was very clear in his decision, and I think that it’s a moment when his flexibility and generosity served him well.” She snapped her fan shut with a decisive click. “I hope that Remin is communicating the truth on the subject.” Talin snorted. Remin couldn’t stand it when citizens gossiped and speculated about Kudorin’s movements and motives, when an explanation had already been presented. “He’s so pissed he sent out delegates to travel from town to town clearing up misconceptions and answering questions about Xio Voe and Kudorin’s marriage.” “What a grand idea!” Sadum beamed with pride. “It must be frustrating, I know. With a marriage like this, no matter how communicative you try to be, people are simply teeming with questions. So clever of him to send out delegates.” Pursing her lips, she ruminated. “I don’t remember that being done over a marriage, before. Do you?”

“Hmm.” Anosanim tipped his head to one side, toying with his eyeliner pencil. “I don’t remember, either, but that sort of thing doesn’t seem to be in my ancestral memories.” “Well, it’s not often that the pharaoh marries someone like Xio Voe,” Sadum said. Talin snorted. Was there anyone like Xio Voe? “I meant someone who’s going to remain on his native throne,” Sadum said, smiling at him. “But your point is well taken.” Vade took a few steps down into the tunnel. Wow. Touching at the walls, he crept forward. “There must be a hundred places like this in the palace. Secret compartments and hidden tunnels.” “I can’t imagine why,” Bade said, following behind. “It’s an ancient palace. They keep updating it, but the old chambers underground would still be there. And they have to hide their vast wealth and divine secrets somewhere.” “They hide their divine secrets in Anosukinom’s head,” Bade argued. “Besides, most hidden tunnels are meant for hiding from invaders, and no one invades Orina Anoris. Who would they need to hide from? Anorians aren’t going to revolt and no armies can get inside.” Vade didn’t notice cum splattered all over the walls, so it wasn’t quite the den of hedonistic lusts he’d hoped. “Can I bring guys down here?” “No.” Bade smacked his shoulder from behind. “Don’t even try it.” Turning to him, Vade grinned. “Now that we’re alone, do you want to tell me what’s going on with you arranging to get Nosupolin citizens laid? What are you, some sort of Anorian-Nosupolin pimp now? If you’re getting people together, can you get me laid, too? Is there some sort of fee involved?” The Parikes had a private landing field in the countryside, near a warehouse. Anosanim went there to welcome Ritek home. It was a blustery day, the wind whipping his skirt around his legs, the sprinkle of rain scattered and disorganized, but Anosanim thought that added a nice romantic element. He did bring along an umbrella, though, because if the rain did begin in earnest, he didn’t want it to spoil his hair or make-up. The wind teased at his hair, but only managed to shake a few tendrils loose; Anosanim had learned early in his apprenticeship how to secure his hair against all manner of conditions. His aunt Liri had not been patient enough to

allow him to take time to fix his hair every time he crawled out from under a carriage or climbed down from atop a roof. Ritek arrived in a small fleet of balloons. As workers rushed forward to secure the balloons, Anosanim hung back, scanning the field eagerly. Where, which balloon, where - - oh! There! Spotting Ritek, he pressed a hand to the wild fluttering of his heart. Ritek saw him, he knew it, he could tell from the sudden impatience of Ritek’s movements. Oh, those strong shoulders, that confident stride, he’d know Ritek anywhere! Ritek rushed across the grass towards him, and he took a few happy steps forward, and then he was in Ritek’s arms, crushed to Ritek’s hard chest as Ritek’s lips claimed his in a blissfully passionate kiss. Umbrella forgotten, Anosanim curled his arms around Ritek’s shoulders, lost to the world. He’d thought about what he’d say when they reunited. He’d planned for all sorts of exchanges. Witty little remarks and seductive phrases and sentimental things. But Ritek’s actual presence, Ritek’s embrace and Ritek’s kiss, dashed all of those thoughts from his mind. And when Ritek broke from his kiss and gazed into his eyes and touched his face, so tenderly, and said, “I’ve missed you,” he felt a helpless quivering in his heart and he whispered, “I’ve missed you, too.” Ritek’s gaze devoured him and Ritek’s touch was a sweet caress at his cheek. “How have you become even more beautiful?” Ritek asked him, and then Ritek kissed him, again, and Anosanim absolutely melted. In the alley, leaning against one wall of the police station, Desin guided Sebado’s hand between his thighs. He didn’t actually expect Sebado to get him off, but he was hard, and he wanted Sebado to touch it. Giving him a friendly grope, Sebado nibbled at his jaw, then looked up, wincing, as rain began to fall. “You could’ve warned me,” Sebado said with a grin, brushing a drop from Desin’s cheek. “Warn you? You saw the clouds, right?” Desin shrugged and kissed Sebado some more. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just going to sprinkle.” They made out for a while, kissing and groping and grinding against each other. Finally, Sebado bit his earlobe and asked, “Did you drag me back here to get me all worked up, or did you want to talk about something?” Oh, right. “Yeah, tonight.” Desin shook water out of his hair and Sebado laughed, swatting at him. “Do you feel like going out to dinner and an opera or something with half of my family and some Parikes? I have to do either that, or hang out with

the king’s family, and I figured at least if I did the opera thing, I could bring you along and get off in a closet or something during intermission.” “Dinner and an opera with the Parikes?” Sebado asked, grinning. “You keep fancy company. Sure, I’ll go. I like fucking in closets.” Opening his eyes, Remin experienced a moment of disorientation. At first, he saw only shadow and candlelight. Inhaling, he remembered where he was, and what he’d been doing. Recognizing Tano kneeling just beside the doorway, he stood, trying to rub the warmth back into his hands. “Naritano.” Judging from experience, and from Tano’s patient, relaxed expression, Tano had been waiting in silence for some time, praying and sharing the moment of contemplation with him. Stepping forward, Tano took his hands, kissing them first and then rubbing them for him. “Anoha. I hope that your meditation was enriching.” Tano watched his face with wide, attentive eyes. “I worried, and I sought peace,” Remin admitted. He hugged Tano, letting warmth soak into his body. They stayed that way for a while, Tano rubbing his back, but when Tano was this close, it was inevitable; Remin kissed him. Immediately, always ready for it, Tano kissed back. They were in the religious offices in a corner of Inanodu’s temple, where anyone - - particularly a priest - - could walk in at any time, so there was no privacy, but that didn’t mean that Remin couldn’t push Tano against the nearest desk and jerk open Tano’s vest and groan in response to Tano’s happy, breathless moaning. They made out until Remin couldn’t fucking take it anymore and their only choices were either to go for it and hope that no one walked in or spontaneously combust, and then Tano panted out, “Snacks, in your office, I brought snacks.” That distracted Remin’s attention enough for them to make it to his office without incident. He ate, and then they got off together, and then they collapsed on the couch together, Tano’s vest on Remin’s desk, half of Remin’s clothes in a heap on the floor. Tano’s fingers were combing through Remin’s hair, and Remin was contemplating developing a pillow fetish - - he’d fucked against Tano through a pillow so many times now that he was starting to get turned on just looking at throw pillows. Then Tano said, “I hope that, whatever’s worrying you, the gods helped you to find the peace you sought.” Remin stroked Tano’s side, finding solace in the simple pleasures of intimacy. “I fear the future as the child fears the dark, and it is all no more than the fear of the unknown. The future is as mysterious to me as a puddle is to an ant, vast and unknown. I cannot guess at what will come, nor can I control it.”

“The future?” Tano asked. “Of Orina Anoris?” He sounded baffled, and his eyebrows drew together in confusion. “The future of the Empire,” Remin said. “The future of our king and our pharaoh.” He sighed, but it occurred to him that he might be able to talk with Tano about this. He didn’t dare speak with any of the priests, because it was his job to lead and to reassure, not speculate and bite his nails. He’d touched upon the subject with his brothers, but they were as uneasy as he was. But now he had Tano. And a husband, or at least a fiancé, was someone he could confide in. “This will remain entirely between us, as closely guarded as you would guard my own heart.” “Yes,” Tano said without hesitation. “Strictly between us.” “I fall, on occasion, into frivolous fears over what will become of the alliance between our king and our pharaoh, once Emperor Sei has completed his life.” “You mean the alliance between Jacacea and Orina Anoris.” “Yes,” Remin said, “and no.” Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on Tano’s bare shoulder. “Emperor Sei does not look as well as he did the last time I saw him. It is not a dramatic difference, but it is a difference nonetheless. I would imagine that several years of life, and of rule, lie ahead of him, but what will transpire as those years come to an end?” “King Xio Voe will become Emperor Xio Voe. Are you worried that he’ll start wars? He planned out that non-violent invasion, didn’t he? He must not be a man of bloodshed or violence.” “He is a man wholly dedicated to advancing the Empire,” Remin said. “He will invade and conquer, and Anosukinom will be on his throne. What message does that send? And when an invasion goes badly, and violence erupts, and innocent people are killed, the message will be unbearable.” “Anosukinom wouldn’t allow that.” “Anosukinom’s intervention and Anosukinom’s miracles may not be welcome in a Soracic sphere,” Remin said. “Anosukinom has proven unwilling to determine the outcome of events beyond Anorian borders.” “It will be the way it is here, won’t it, only backwards? Here, Anosukinom’s in charge, and King Xio Voe is secondary. There, King Xio Voe will have the final word, and Anosukinom will be secondary. All of the decisions will be King Xio Voe’s. Whatever happens, it will be his glory or his downfall. The lands will be his to claim, and the bodies will be his to bury.” Tano shuddered at that, and Remin didn’t blame him. “Maybe it won’t be that way. Maybe he’ll advance the Empire through the things he’s focusing on now. Science and medicine. The Empire’s greatness doesn’t have to come through its military.”

“He focuses on science and medicine when he’s in Orina Anoris,” Remin said. “Part of what he works on when he’s in Seijaces is military strategy. They’re planning their next moves.” “He’s told you that?” Tano sounded surprised. “That’s not very Jacacean of him, is it?” “To taunt and threaten by alluding to a scheme, but refuse to divulge details, so that all possibilities are open and no one feels safe?” Remin asked. “It’s very Jacacean of him.” Tano wrapped his arms around Remin more securely. “We trust Anosukinom. In all things. That will never change, and it doesn’t depend on his marital status. Anosukinom isn’t weak and human and vulnerable and fallible and prey to the whims of a scheming husband. He’s our god, and he’s guided by all of our gods. Whatever he does, we will continue to trust him in all things. Right now, as things stand, we don’t expect Emperor Sei to be subject to Anosukinom’s will. He follows his own conscience and his own gods. The difference, I think, is that Emperor Sei’s gods are Soracic gods, and we aren’t entirely sure how close he is with them. King Xio Voe’s gods are Soracic gods and, also, Anorian gods, and we know how close he is with them. I would worry less about King Xio Voe’s influence on Anosukinom, and focus more on Anosukinom’s influence on King Xio Voe. He studies to become an Anorian priest, he is bound to Ilanosa, that is something no Jacacean Emperor has ever experienced. How much blood will he permit to stain his hands when those very same hands touch Anosukinom at night? I could never look into Anosukinom’s eyes and encourage evil to fester in my soul. I don’t think that King Xio Voe could, either. He’s a man of too much integrity.” Remin didn’t want to be foolishly idealistic; he knew that plenty of people considered themselves faithfully religious and continued to commit innumerable atrocities. Worshiping Anosukinom did not prevent anyone from unrepentant acts of evil, and it would be very easy for Xio Voe to justify ruthless violence in the name of the Empire. Still, what Tano said struck a chord. Xio Voe was bound to Ilanosa. Xio Voe’s love for Anosukinom was reverent. Coming from a Soracic background, Xio Voe found his faith driven by a need to understand the gods, and the more he understood Kudorin, the more abhorrent he would find murder. Would Xio Voe be willing to alter Jacacean methods to suit the Anorian gods? Would Xio Voe be willing to alter Jacacean laws to suit the Anorian gods?

Maybe the key was in linking Xio Voe’s understanding of Anorian gods to the Soracic gods. If Kudorin could open Xio Voe to the Soracic gods, if the Soracic gods could communicate - - but what would they communicate? Remin wanted to believe that they were as against murder and violence as Kudorin was, that they would promote peace and empathy. But he didn’t know them nearly as well as he knew his own gods, and he couldn’t predict their full nature. What if the Soracic gods were as bloodthirsty as their people? It wasn’t possible. Kudorin wouldn’t have married Xio Voe if that were true. It - - it - but what if? What if, what if? “I need to meditate,” Remin said, climbing hastily off of Tano. “I must speak with Kudorin.” “Maybe you should speak with the king,” Tano suggested, sitting up. “Or with the Emperor. I mean, while he’s here. You don’t get that many opportunities to speak with him face-to-face.” Remin paused for a moment, falling still. It wasn’t the Emperor he needed to speak with, so much as the Emperor’s gods. How could he best reach out to them? Anosanim had planned it all out, in his mind. He and Ritek would chat about Ritek’s trip, during a carriage ride and over lunch. They would be witty and sophisticated and charming. Ritek would offer him some gift, a token of Ritek’s affection, and he would accept it very prettily, and say something memorably humble - - he had a few lines of poetry in mind, depending on the gift. And then they would go to Ritek’s apartment to prepare for their evening out with family, but they’d have too much time on their hands, and they’d be unable to hold back their desire any longer, and passion would erupt between them, and they’d engage in wonderfully romantic lovesex, during which he would be very beautiful and superbly skilled. And it all happened just like that, almost. Except that Ritek had several gifts, not just one, and instead of uttering poetry, Anosanim cried in happiness. And they had sex not just after lunch but before lunch, too. And there were moments of artistic romance and poetic beauty, moments right out of the most sentimental operas. Moments when Anosanim absolutely melted at the perfection of the moment and the love in Ritek’s eyes. But there were perfectly ordinary moments, too, and utterly mundane moments, and even an awkward moment here and there, like when Anosanim’s hair got caught in Ritek’s buttons, or the carriage hit a rut in the road while they were making out and

their heads knocked together and Ritek bit down on Anosanim’s lower lip a little and, well, Ritek’s look of concern had really been quite touching, and Anosanim probably shouldn’t have laughed, but then Ritek had looked relieved and laughed with him. And, really, Anosanim did adore romantic moments, but there was something to be said for silly, awkward, happy moments, too. All in all, Anosanim was very happy that it had all turned out precisely as it had. Remin, it seemed, wasn’t the only one who’d received permission to enter Xio Voe’s temple. “Forgive me,” Remin said, taking a step back. “I thought to find this place empty.” “Prince Remin. Please, come in,” Prince Xio Kei said, getting to his feet. “It is no intrusion. If you sought privacy, I can return at another time.” “No, please, stay.” Remin smiled in reassurance. He wondered why Xio Kei wanted the quiet of the knitting seat. Instinct, or perhaps simply habit, urged Remin to offer counsel and solace, but he wondered if it would be welcome. It might be odd - - insulting, even - - for him to seek to help Xio Kei in this particular setting. In a Soracic temple, on the knitting seat, Xio Kei was in the care of his own gods, and Anorian religious interference might be very unwelcome. Still, something was obviously on Xio Kei’s mind, and he was seeking some sort of assistance with it, and an offer of help wouldn’t hurt. “What are you knitting?” “Booties.” Xio Kei looked down at his work with a critical eye, inspecting the wool. “For infants,” he explained. An interesting choice. A scarf, a blanket, even gloves would require more time and effort. Knitting booties allowed Xio Kei to get up and leave more easily. Perhaps he didn’t have very much on his mind. Perhaps he expected to be called away. “Is that often what you knit?” “Yes. This wool is of excellent quality.” It was multi-colored, leaving booties as rainbow-splashed as anything Kudorin wore. “I believe that King Voe enjoys the varied color.” “Yes.” Xio Kei waited. Remin smiled benignly. “I do not mean to keep you from your purpose,” Xio Kei said. An impulse struck Remin. “I came to seek communion with your gods. I wonder if you might meditate with me.”

Xio Kei was harder to read than anyone else Remin knew of his age, so Remin wasn’t wholly sure what caused a moment of hesitation. But after that moment, Xio Kei said, “Yes, that would be acceptable,” and set down his knitting. They sat together at the base of the fountain. As they faced each other, Remin took Xio Kei’s hands. “You know the Epeixe Cujeat?” “Yes.” If Xio Kei found it an especially ignorant question, which he undoubtedly did, he didn’t display it in his expression or tone. Any native Jacacean of Xio Kei’s age would know it by heart, despite its length. “Will you be so kind as to recite it?” “I will.” Xio Kei closed his eyes and minutely relaxed his shoulders. Quietly, slowly, he began to recite it. His voice wasn’t as impossibly deep as Xio Voe’s, but it was unusually low all the same, and the prayer sounded especially poetic in his rich, cultured voice. Closing his eyes, Remin listened to the words. To the places Xio Kei put emphasis. To the sincerity of Xio Kei’s reverent tone. As Xio Kei’s spirit was moved by faith, the prayer became not a rote recitation but a genuine exaltation, and Remin tried to connect to Xio Kei’s emotion, to Xio Kei’s belief, to the gods beyond it. As Remin sank into a meditative state, something teased at a corner of his mind, a glimmer of light flickering at the edge of his perception. It seemed important, but he couldn’t quite catch it; he’d get back to it when he reawakened, he’d tend to it later. Xio Kei’s deep voice was soft, hypnotic, and the rhythm of the prayer lulled Remin. It was so familiar. Not the Epeixe Cujeat specifically, but a faithful voice, an earnest prayer, a religious site. Faith was here, spirituality was present, and the gods were here, he could feel them, he was with them. They weren’t his gods, but they knew him, they’d always known him. They’d known him when he’d been born, a messy infant, son of a god, Anosatim Inanodat Anoremin A Ri. They’d known him when he was betrayed at the Conqueror’s Stone. They’d known him when he ruled with a scepter in one hand. They’d known him when he was a simple farmer on the hillside. They’d always known him, and he’d always known them, in return. He’d known them when they were with a simple fisherman on the water. He’d known them when they were with Ean Ves in the forest. He’d known them when they were with Fet Kailoe at the Conqueror’s Stone. He’d known them when they’d blessed Xio Voe’s birth.

He saw two paths. Two gleaming paths through a thick, dark wood. They ran parallel, parallel, parallel, and then they diverged sharply. Uphill, downhill, zigzagging right and left, no matter how they twisted, they never crossed. Never met. But their destination. Their destination was ahead. He could see it. They were going to the same place. They would reach it together. He saw, in a tumbling flash, how it would happen, how it would come to be, the miracles, the unexpected turns, the dangers, the joys. He saw the future and it stunned him. And then it was gone. This is the time of reoluxe zisoal rarascet. What? Who - - Remin opened his eyes. Who had said that? As his eyes snapped open, Xio Kei fell silent, watching him with guarded interest, and he realized that he’d never ceased to hear Xio Kei’s voice, that the prayer had been the backdrop for his revelations. Revelations? What revelations? He hadn’t - - he’d just closed his eyes, and then he’d heard - - but he hadn’t heard it, it hadn’t been a voice. He’d heard it with his spirit, not his ears, but it hadn’t had an origin he recognized. That hadn’t been Anosukinom, hadn’t been Akanoti or Inanodu or any of his gods. He mentally reviewed the last line Xio Kei had spoken. They’d been deep into the prayer. Far deeper than Remin recalled. He’d closed his eyes and… And what? What had happened then? Had he reached his gods? Xio Kei’s gods? Had anything been revealed to him? He remembered the opening lines of the prayer. Closing his eyes. This is the time of reoluxe zisoal rarascet. Opening his eyes. But he’d lost so much time in between. What had he gleaned from his meditations? A fisherman. He remembered a fisherman. A fisherman? What? “A fisherman,” he said, watching Xio Kei carefully. “What is the significance to you?” “We have hauled fish from the sea since the dawn of the Empire,” Xio Kei replied. “It is the basis of our economy and of our nutrition. The fisherman is our past and our constant.” Fish. Water. The canals. The ocean. The Jacacean Imperial Navy. Remin wondered which connections he should make, which conclusions he could draw. None, at the moment. Jacaceans had their sea; Anorians had their river.

“Thank you.” Withdrawing his hands, Remin rubbed them together, flexing his fingers. “You have been kind to indulge me.” As they stood, he wondered whether he’d just wasted his time. “What does reoluxe zisoal rarascet mean to you?” “King Xio Voe,” Xio Kei said without hesitation. “Former Emperor Fet Kailoe.” In Anorian, he added, “The one who ushers in another way.” Another way. Another way. A different path. There was something he should remember, something he should be thinking of, something. Searching his mind, Remin wished that he knew what the gods wanted, that he knew what he was supposed to do. Or was he already doing it, already aware of it, and creating new problems and uncertainties unnecessarily? It was entirely possible. Politely, Xio Kei left him. On his own, Remin closed his eyes. He felt nothing. No gods, no sense of peace, no shimmer of love. Nothing. He might as well have been in an empty shed. Whatever the gods had communicated to him was lost. And then he remembered. Just after he’d closed his eyes, he’d had a thought. A minor realization which raised so many questions. There had only been one bootie. Xio Kei had been in the knitting seat when Remin had entered, but there had only been one bootie present, the one in his hand. Crossing to the knitting seat now, Remin investigated the basket. Only one bootie. Why only one? He must have entered the temple only shortly before Remin. To what end? With what purpose? Had he been sent there to meet Remin? Would he be aware of it if he had? “You’re jumping to conclusions,” Kudorin said. Crouching in front of the fountain, he cupped his hands in the water. “Do you want to know what I think?” “Always.” Remin knelt down at Kudorin’s side.

“I think.” Kudorin splashed Remin right in the face, dousing him with water. “You should stop worrying so much and enjoy your life. Go praise the gods and hug your parents and get married.” When Vade met Ritek’s family in a jumble of introductions that evening, he quickly assessed the group. To his disappointment, the few people who weren’t either too young, too old, or too female for him were already married; Ritek was the only candidate, and Ritek was very much taken. That was, overall, probably a good thing; Vade’s father had been very firm about the kinds of “antics” he did not want Vade to get involved in during this trip. The Seven Siblings got into those sorts of antics everywhere they went, even in front of their parents, apparently. With all three of his parents right there, Rini spent the whole night flirting with the young women and slipping away with them under the flimsiest pretenses. Desin spent all night flirting with one woman, a married woman, and Desin’s boyfriend Sebado spent all night flirting with her husband. Vade knew that there was no real taboo in Orina Anoris against extramarital sex, but surely decent people of the Parikes’ standing wouldn’t be so obvious about it. A little discreet romp here and there was one thing, but open, public seduction? Why did these people have no shame?! Remin and Tano certainly had no shame. They spent the entire evening almost making out. Giving each other burning looks, kissing each other, nibbling on each other’s fingertips, whispering into each other’s ears. As soon as there was a break in the opera between acts, they disappeared, and if it hadn’t been for Bade grabbing at his arm, Vade would’ve followed them. When they came back, they looked very relaxed, and they sat down to nuzzle each other until the next act began. The way Tano looked at Remin was incredible. Super sexy and so in love, like he’d follow Remin anywhere. What did it feel like? To love someone that much? To be loved that wholeheartedly? Marriages for monetary or political gain made sense and were easy to arrange. Finding love like that seemed so much harder. It was so hard to find good love, real love, and then it was so hard to keep it, no wonder people relied on other excuses for getting married. If they all held out for that elusive promise of love, only a tiny sliver of the population would get married, and everyone else would just die of disappointment. Reaching past Bade, Orinakin touched lightly at his hand. Breaking from his reverie, Vade looked over to find Orinakin studying him with gorgeous, very purple eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

He could only imagine what sorts of feelings Orinakin had picked up on. But he didn’t feel like explaining all of that, so he said, “Tano. They have an open relationship, right? He picks up all sorts of guys. Why can’t I-” “No,” Bade said firmly. “It doesn’t-” “No,” Bade repeated. Orinakin was smiling like he found it funny. “I’m not talking about sex,” Vade said, lowering his voice to a whisper on that last word. They were in public. “Just a little-” “No,” Bade said. “Tano is your brother-in-law, not a bela.” “He acts like one,” Vade grumbled. He didn’t know why Bade had a problem with it, because he was pretty sure that Tano wouldn’t. He’d just have to ask Tano about it when Bade wasn’t around. Anosanim glowed with happiness all evening. He spent dinner chatting with Ritek’s family and spent the opera tucked up against Ritek’s arm. Spontaneously he’d pull Talin aside to exclaim about how absolutely charming Ritek’s family was and how utterly splendid the evening was and how very marvelous it was to have Ritek home again, wasn’t Ritek so handsome, wasn’t Ritek so clever, wasn’t Ritek so wonderful? Anosanim was in love. Ritek was devoted and sophisticated and perfect for him. Anosanim had never been like this before, had never had such a healthy, mature relationship, and Talin wanted to build walls around it to keep it safe. It was almost absurd, how great Ritek was for Anosanim, how well their relationship flourished. Given Ritek’s history, Talin and Desin and Selorin checked up on him from time to time, to make sure that he was staying faithful, but he genuinely seemed to be committed to Anosanim enough to stay monogamous. The only real complaint Talin had was the same complaint Anosanim had; Ritek’s work took him away too often. As Talin could testify, Anosanim liked to stay tucked into his loved ones’ pockets, and spending so much time parted from Ritek was wearing on him. But for now, Ritek was back again. Home again. With Anosanim again. Talin spent the night in the belam, to give them privacy.

Desin loved teaming up with Sebado to partner with another couple. Partnering with a husband and wife was just about perfect; Desin got the wife and Sebado, Sebado got the husband and Desin, and everyone went home happy. Desin had been so busy with the married couple that he hadn’t gotten much of Sebado for himself, so after they left, he went down on Sebado to enjoy some upclose contact. Sebado rode his mouth just the way he liked it, and that was another benefit to having a boyfriend. They knew each other’s patterns, they knew each other’s habits, and there was none of the awkward fumbling and guessing of breaking in someone new every day. It was easier, with a boyfriend, just to get right into it. He and Sebado worked really well together. With four different people in one bed, it was kind of nice to balance the excitement and unpredictability of new partners with the trust and reliability of a well-known partner. He and Sebado had communicated easily with each other, and the married couple had communicated well with each other, and everyone in the bed had sort of had a back-up who knew what his partner wanted. “We should fuck couples more often,” Desin said, yawning and already halfasleep. Sebado snorted, shifting against him under the covers. “You say that every time we partner with a couple.” Hunh. “Maybe we should move on to seducing threesomes.” A sleepy grunt. “I know a few who’d be interested.” Closing the door to Remin’s quarters as he stepped into the hallway, Tano smoothed down his hair. He had to finish the sample menu before his meeting with the wedding planners and also get dinner out on time. The sample menu had already been approved, earlier, but he kept making changes. He knew that he should finalize it and be finished, but he kept thinking of new dishes and new ways to save money. Like with the“Oh, Tano.” Turning, he smiled. “Prince Vade!” It was so nice to have Prince Bade’s family visiting. They were such good people, he really enjoyed their company. They were very dignified and respectable without a lot of pompous airs, and Prince Vade was a great deal of fun. Tano would’ve loved to partner with him, under other circumstances. “How did you enjoy the opera last night?”

Prince Vade’s accent was a little thicker even than Prince Bade’s, which Tano thought was adorable. Prince Vade was trying to be discreet about glancing down his body, as if he’d mind being ogled openly, so he shifted a little, leaning one shoulder against the wall and canting his hips, teasing a button on his vest open to give Prince Vade a better look. “It was terrific, wasn’t it? The scene at the well was the best, I was sure that one of them was going to be killed.” “It was certainly dramatic.” Prince Vade’s cheeks were going from pink to red. “What are you plans for tonight?” “We’re meeting with the wedding planners tonight. After that I’m teaching Prince Xio Dei and some of Remin’s nieces and nephews to make some Ilaeian cookies and biscuits. Would you like to join us? Prince Bade seemed interested, and it’ll help to have some adults around to supervise the younger kids. I need more practice with kids, myself. At first they were running around getting into everything, opening all of the cabinets and dragging things out of the pantry and spilling everything it’s possible to spill, and I probably shouldn’t have encouraged them but it was great to see them having so much fun! But I told them to be more careful and respectful because a kitchen can be a dangerous place, but I think that I went too far and scared some of the little ones and now they’re telling their parents what a death trap my kitchen is. I never thought that I was bad with kids, but I think that I’ll have to get used to talking to people who don’t always know when I’m exaggerating.” Prince Vade drew pleasantly closer. “I’d like to cook with you sometime.” Oh. They weren’t talking about cooking anymore, were they? Enjoying the flirtation, Tano smiled, touching Prince Vade’s forearm. “Are you asking for private lessons?” Leaning right in, Prince Vade kissed him. Surprised to advance so quickly but happy to welcome the kiss, Tano immediately kissed back. With a loud, hungry moan, Prince Vade pushed him back against the wall, hands sliding under his vest. Between the fierce lust of Prince Vade’s kiss and the sensual thrill of that moan and the hungry enthusiasm of those pushy, grabby hands, Tano felt very wanted, and he joined in enthusiastically, trying to get a hold on the tight leather of Prince Vade’s pants as he tugged Prince Vade’s hips forward. Oh, yes, Prince Vade was already hard, and was making the most gorgeous, explicit groaning noises, and Tano could easily get off just like this. He’d been told that the Nosupolin princes were lusty creatures, and he’d seen - and heard - - enough of Prince Bade with Prince Orinakin to know that it was true. But it was another thing entirely to have it happen to him, on him, and he found Prince Vade’s primal passion exhilarating. Moaning in happy, encouraging

response to Prince Vade’s urgent groans, he demanded more of Prince Vade’s deep, fervent kisses. Prince Vade’s sexual appetite made him hot and eager, made him want more, and he arched as Prince Vade’s strong hands pushed his vest all the way open, bringing his bare skin in contact with the warm leather and delicate silk of Prince Vade’s clothing. Dragging his fingers through Prince Vade’s thick, curly hair, he rocked against Prince Vade’s hard-on, eliciting an especially rewarding groan. “Great Grengar, I have to fuck you,” Prince Vade groaned. He said it in Nosupolin, but Tano knew just enough Nosupolin to understand it. Mmm, “We can’t,” Tano sighed, going back for more. It was such a shame, because he could tell that partnering with Prince Vade would be spectacular. Whatever Prince Vade said next, Tano couldn’t exactly translate word for word, but the way Prince Vade’s hands were gripping his ass and urging him against that delicious hard-on was clear enough. “Mmm, oh, I’m sorry,” Tano said breathlessly. He was grinding against Prince Vade more than he should, but it just felt so good, and being caught between Prince Vade’s hard, hot body and the wall, he didn’t have anywhere else to go, anyway. “I wish that we could, but just making out. Not anything more. Remin and I talked about this, we agreed, I can’t break my word.” This close up, Tano could see just how deep and dark the blue of Prince Vade’s eyes was. “You talked to Remin? About me? What did he say?” Now that he had his hands on Prince Vade, he could understand why Prince Orinakin was forever touching Prince Bade’s laces. They were just such a handy place to hold onto. Tano had his own fingers hooked into the laces at the sides of Prince Vade’s pants, and he felt no inclination whatsoever to let go. “I’m attracted to you, and I thought that you might be attracted to me, but I didn’t want to make things awkward, so I asked Remin what he thought about it. He agreed that the potential problems outweighed the fun, so we decided that it wouldn’t go any farther than some kissing.” Part of the problem was the difference in cultures, but Tano didn’t know how to explain that without causing offense. “One time?” Prince Vade asked. “Or can we do this again?” “Oh, whenever you want. Whenever you’re visiting, really. I have to go, now, but we can make out later, maybe tonight sometime.” With a low, lusty growl, Prince Vade kissed him again, pressing him against the wall again. Oh, okay. Yes, mmm, oh. Yes, now was good, too, now was, oh, so very good…

Stifling laughter, Rini backed into the belam again. “You’re back.” Kelano cracked a whip uncannily close to his ankle. “Couldn’t bring yourself to leave us?” “Vade’s out there!” Rini motioned more belas close and nudged them towards the door. “I heard all of that moaning and I thought that Bade was out there! I didn’t know that it was Vade! With Tano!” Crowding around, the belas peered into the hallway. “Oh, that’s very nice,” Nasomi murmured. “Ssshh, don’t scare them off,” Lapiko whispered. “Nosupolins startle easily.” “I can’t wait to get Naritano Pitok all to myself,” Rukesan said in a dark, smug voice. “He’s so wonderfully eager to please.” “Gods above, this is making me hot for Prince Bade,” Nasomi said. “Mmm, I love those noises.” Tepeni licked his lips, raking his nails over Lapiko’s shoulder as they watched the scene down the hallway. “I wish that I could hear what he’s saying.” “A minute ago he was talking about ‘I’ll bring you pleasure to shake the mountains,’” Rini said. He was too sore to play any more of the belas’ games; he’d love to volunteer for another few hours of torment and pleasure, but he’d already hit his limit. It was a shame to leave the belas worked up with no one to play with, though. “You want me to send Desin?” Tepeni made a soft, pleased noise and scratched his nails across Lapiko’s nape; Lapiko shuddered. “I want you to send Prince Bade.” “King Voe has requested that you make yourself available to them after dinner,” Tasum continued, checking her notes, seated near Bade’s desk in his office. “And Prince Rini asked me to let you know that Tepeni’s asking for you.” What? “Tepeni’s asking for me?” Bade couldn’t imagine why. “What does he want?” Tasum raised her eyes from her notes, then raised her eyebrows. “My first guess, Your Highness, would be sex.” Oh! Oh. Blushing, Bade dropped his gaze. “Yes, I see. I’ll,” um, “tend to that matter later, then.” She snickered, something no Nosupolin assistant would’ve done, and continued on to the next item on her list.

Either Orinakin was hearing things, or he’d been very right to be in love with Bade all of this time. “What did you say?” Kasu rolled his eyes. “I said, as you know perfectly well because you heard me clearly, you have a meeting in an hour with the caagriellia princess.” “One hour from now?” “Yes. Perhaps it would be best to stop wasting your time making me repeat myself, and attend to your work.” “No, I wish to know more about this meeting,” Orinakin decided. He and Bade frequently pulled each other aside for spontaneous sex in the middle of the day, but for Bade to arrange and negotiate it this way was new. New and promising and very appealing. Bade wanted him, and was planning out sex in advance, and Orinakin wanted to dwell on that idea and know more about it and simmer in this sensation of being wanted. “Who scheduled this meeting?” “Tasum requested that it be added to your schedule.” Bade had gone through Tasum. How bold of him. Orinakin could imagine Bade’s embarrassed blush and Bade’s flustered determination. “Where shall this meeting take place?” Kasu sighed. “I suppose that ‘in your ass’ would be an inappropriate answer.” Orinakin threw a rare, ancient coin at him. “Play along.” Carefully placing the coin back on Orinakin’s desk, Kasu said, “Tasum suggested that you go to your rooms first. I believe that her exact words were, ‘He’d better be within reach of that bed on time, too, because Prince Bade is itching for it.’” Kasu smirked. “If you’ll forgive the impertinence.” “You live for impertinence.” Orinakin laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back thoughtfully. “This is making me so horny that I want to go see Bade, but that would sort of miss the point, wouldn’t it.” “I’m going to leave you to your sexual daydreams,” Kasu said, getting up. “If you don’t manage to get anything else accomplished today, at least you’ll do your usual job of improving Anorian-Nosupolin relations, and I suppose that’s some small comfort.” It was almost time. Bade checked their apartment first to make sure that Orinakin wasn’t early, then went across the hallway and knocked on the door of the sulatim belam.

Opening the door, Nasomi gave him a deliberately lingering once-over that left Bade tingling with desire in places Nasomi couldn’t even see. “Tepeni,” Nasomi said lazily, and walked his fingers up Bade’s arm. “Prince Bade’s here.” The sharp crack of a whip made Bade jump. Nasomi smirked knowingly, indulgently, and Bade blushed, distinctly uncomfortable and loving it. A moment later, Tepeni strolled into view, dressed in flimsy silver shorts and complicatedlooking leather gloves, a riding crop in one hand, a leash in the other. Bade’s gaze traveled down the leash to Kelano, who was on all fours, gagged and sweating and looking up at Bade with hungry, pleading eyes. “Sorry, Your Highness.” Tepeni smiled coldly. “Training ran longer than expected.” Sparing a glance down at Kelano, he tapped Kelano’s hip with the crop. Kelano shuddered, making a helpless, muffled sound of either acute distress or intense pleasure. “You’ll finish for me,” Tepeni told Nasomi, handing over the leash and crop. Removing his gloves, he smiled with beautiful kindness and took Bade’s hand. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Part 287 Bade radiated desire and pleasure so strong Orinakin could feel it in the hallway. As he’d walked from his office to their apartment, anticipation had churned and risen within him, and the sudden influx of Bade’s erotic pleasure had him charging through the doorway, hotly aroused and wanting more. At once, Orinakin heard Bade’s uninhibited, lusty moans, a familiar sound his body responded to immediately and predictably. Bade’s thoughts were an incoherent tangle of impatient need and frustrated desire, and Orinakin tore his clothes off hastily, leaving a trail of purple garments behind as he hurried towards the bedroom. Bade was in there with someone else, someone very aroused with a throaty, appreciative laugh. Tepeni. Orinakin paused in the doorway for just a moment to take in the scene. They were standing near the bathroom, Bade clutching at the doorjamb with one foot loosely in the air as Tepeni held up Bade’s knee, thrusting into him from the side. From this angle, Orinakin could see everything - - the length of Tepeni’s dick as it slid in and out, Bade’s hard dick as it bounced on every thrust, and best of all Bade’s expression of raw, joyful lust.

When Bade looked up and saw him standing there, Orinakin was hit with a fresh wave of desire. That got him moving again, and he dropped the last of his clothes in the doorway. Bade panted his name but never managed a full sentence, and Tepeni kissed Orinakin as he drew near. Eager to touch, Orinakin slid his hand over Bade’s raised leg, caressing Bade’s hairy, muscular thigh as he soaked up Bade’s passion. “You look delicious.” His dick twitched in sympathy as he watched Tepeni’s dick slide in again and again, Tepeni’s hips pumping, Bade’s body moving to the rhythm Tepeni created. He tweaked Bade’s nipple and slid his other hand down Tepeni’s back, cupping Tepeni’s ass, pushing on each thrust, loving the way their lust flooded his senses. “You like the way he fucks you, I feel how much you love it.” Oooh, a hot sizzle of Bade’s lust, a passionate groan; Orinakin’s hand skimmed Bade’s chest as Bade’s need and arousal flared through him. “Yes, oh, ah, yes.” Bade wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. Loving the roundness of Tepeni’s ass in his hand and the uninhibited pull of Bade’s desire, Orinakin leaned in, licking Bade’s ear, pulse quickening at the sensuality of Bade’s ecstatic moaning. He pressed Tepeni’s ass harder and the pace quickened, heat flooding Orinakin’s body as he felt how much they both enjoyed it. “Tell me everything that I missed.” With an admiring, appreciative touch, he stroked Bade’s dick, jacking it, his other hand on his own dick as it ached between his legs. “How did you end up with Tepeni’s fat, hard dick inside you, and how many times have you already come?” It had been such a long, busy day. Such a long, busy week. Tano had been so busy delegating and supervising and issuing orders that he hadn’t been able to cook as much as he’d wanted. Every second he didn’t spend preparing for the wedding was devoted to getting meals out on time. The pressure of cooking for the wedding was starting to get to him. It was a huge undertaking, and he had the added stress of having to set everything in place perfectly ahead of time, because during the actual wedding events he’d be away from the kitchen. On top of that, everyone knew that Remin’s fiancé was a professional chef and in charge of the menu for the wedding, so everyone he met made some well-intentioned comment about looking forward to sampling his food, and it was hard not to see that as a challenge of some kind, some sort of test. He knew that he was a good chef, and he was proud of the menu, but something could go wrong, a mistake or an oversight, and he’d be shaking hands and meeting people and enjoying the festivities thinking that everything was okay

while the kitchen was in chaos, and the food would be inedible, and everyone would think that he made the worst food in the world, and… And what? King Xio Voe wouldn’t fire him over one event, would he? If the event went badly enough, it was possible. But it wasn’t likely, was it? He’d still be married to Remin, and he’d still be able to cook for Remin. And if King Xio Voe didn’t fire him, then the only real consequence would be that the people he didn’t cook for regularly would think that he couldn’t cook. A blow to his pride, a blow to his reputation, sure, but did that matter? He couldn’t bring himself to mind that, really. He didn’t care what people he didn’t know thought about his work based on one event. He did mind making Anosukinom or King Xio Voe or Remin look bad, though. This wasn’t only his event, it was a matter of national pride, it was important to the royal family, and he wanted to do his best for them. He’d be devastated if he were responsible for Anosukinom’s guests being dissatisfied with their visit. Anosukinom’s guests. King Xio Voe’s allies. Prince Orinakin’s friends. Princess Eleita’s family. Tano had met more people this week than in the last two decades of his existence. He’d been introduced to so many people he couldn’t hope to keep track of them all. He did his best to remember names and faces during the initial conversation, but as soon as ten minutes later, it was all a blur to him. He supposed that the gods helped Prince Orinakin to remember all of those details, but he had no idea how anyone else did it. Royalty, nobility, prime ministers, ambassadors, they’d all shown up with different names and different accents and some of the funniest clothing he’d ever seen, and he would’ve been more worried about not keeping them straight in his head, but it wasn’t as if they were going to be around for long. They weren’t really interested in him, anyway. They were there for Remin, or for another of the Seven Siblings, or for King Xio Voe, or for each other. He was getting married, but for them, that wasn’t really the point; his wedding was a handy backdrop for their political machinations. He didn’t exactly mind that they didn’t care about him. They didn’t have any good reason to care about him. It wasn’t malicious; it wasn’t as if they were strutting around calling him names and insinuating that he slapped babies. And they did care about Remin; people were very respectful and deferential around Remin, which pleased him very much. He loved that other people, even people of other cultures and other faiths, treated Remin well. It was great to see and it made him feel very good about the world. It was easy, during the day, to get busy and overworked and stressed out, worrying about whether he’d have enough ingredients, enough time, enough

help. Whether he’d made the right choices. Whether everything under his control would go well, and what would happen to everything out of his control. But the day was over, and the night was quiet. He was in Remin’s bed, in Remin’s arms, sated and loved and exactly where he wanted to be. Leaning back against Remin’s chest, he closed his eyes. He loved Remin so much, already, he didn’t know what he’d do once they were married. Fall over from sheer happiness, maybe. How could he find new ways to show Remin his love? Getting married, committing to Remin for life, that was a good one, but what else? He couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t kind of creepy. Like, he’d be happy to follow Remin around all day, every day, saying, “I love you, Remin, I love you, Remin, I love you, Remin,” incessantly, but he didn’t think that Remin would really want that. “The ball is tomorrow night.” Remin’s hand rubbed over his abs as Remin nuzzled the back of his neck, and he shivered, smiling, enjoying the affection. “And the day after that?” Yes, the day after that. “We get married.” The words came with a happy ripple of anticipation and a deep sense of satisfaction. “Mmm.” Remin purred, kissing his nape, making his blood stir. “And then we have lovesex.” With a pleased chuckle, Tano stroked the forearm around his waist. “A lot of lovesex.” “I’m glad.” Remin’s voice was quiet and intimate and honest, and the sound of it tugged on him until he turned around to look into Remin’s face to see the candid affection there. “I’m glad that I’ve found someone to share my life with. And I’m glad that it’s you.” Hugging Remin, Tano closed his eyes. “I couldn’t be more glad that it’s you, I couldn’t be happier. You could hand me flowers or offer me candy or give me sacks of gold, but none of that would make me any happier than I already am about you.” Feeling Remin’s arm tighten around his waist, he smoothed Remin’s hair, pressing a kiss to Remin’s neck. “It’s a big thing, getting married, it’s a huge commitment. I want you to know that I’m going to do my best, I’m going to try my hardest, I’m going to do everything I can to be a good husband. I’m not jumping into this lightly and I’m not taking it for granted that it’ll all go well. A good marriage takes a lot of work, but I want to do that work and put in that effort, because I want to have a good marriage. You deserve a strong, happy marriage, and I’ll do whatever I can to give that to you.”

“It’ll take work from both of us,” Remin said. “I want to be a good husband to you, Tano. I know what a great husband you’ll be to me, and I want you to be happy and fulfilled in our marriage. You give so much to me, and you’re content with so little in return.” “My needs are simple.” Tano grinned, kissing Remin’s seductive mouth. “Food. Sex. Faith. And you.” As the ball drew near, Orinakin debated with himself. He didn’t want to be overbearing; Remin and Tano were mature, reasonable people and could be trusted to behave appropriate. Besides, he didn’t want to add to the pressure; he wanted them to enjoy their evening. Then Bade told him about finding Vade and Tano alone in a room with the High Cleric’s son, and he thought that maybe a little guidance was in order. While everyone dressed for the ball, Orinakin took a few minutes to visit Remin’s apartment. Entering, he found Remin in a good mood and faintly aroused, sitting back while someone tended to his hair. Tano was more preoccupied and wore only red underpants with gold trim. “The palace fills with excitement,” Orinakin said, dropping a kiss on Remin’s cheek. “We’re all honored to celebrate your happiness.” Remin’s gaze was fond; Remin squeezed his hand lightly. “You’ve come to chastise us in your pleasant way, haven’t you?” Tano’s embarrassment was a faint heat cross the back of Orinakin’s neck. “Is this about Terrish? I’m sorry, I didn’t know - - I’d never hit on the High Cleric himself, but I didn’t know that his son-” “It’s not about that,” Orinakin said kindly, offering Tano smile. “You’ve committed no wrong. If anyone is at fault, it’s Terrish, for leading you on. I did want to speak with you about tonight,” he admitted, squeezing Remin’s hand in return, “but I’m not here to chastise anyone.” “If you have advice, please, give it,” Tano said, his earnestness genuine. “I’d be horrified if I messed up such an important night in front of so many important people. I don’t want people to think of Remin as being married to ‘that guy who disgraced a nation.’” “My primary concerns are distractions,” Orinakin said. “You must feel as if you’ve met a great number of guests already over the past few days, but there are even more guests who haven’t had the opportunity to speak with you yet. This is a time when your hosting duties come first, and your own comfort and preferences are, unfortunately, secondary. Your hand will be sore and your feet will hurt and

you’ll grow tired of hearing the same remarks and smiling at exhausting jokes, but it’s important to remain polite and respectful. These guests have come a long way for rare opportunity.” Tano was listening attentively, nodding; Remin’s arousal was rising as he eyed Tano and Orinakin could tell that he’d stopped listening. “You’ll find yourselves distracted,” Orinakin said, and at the emphasis on the last word Remin quickly looked at him, attentive again. “You’ll want to sneak away to indulge in physical affection. You’ll want to go to the kitchen to check on the food. I need you to ignore those impulses.” “Ignore them?” Remin asked, one slim, golden eyebrow rising. “You don’t mean ignore them entirely,” Tano said, frowning. “We’ll all be lenient after the wedding,” Orinakin said. “If during post-wedding celebrations you’re distracted, affectionate, or missing, everyone will understand. Tonight, you’ll be expected to put your guests first. Disappearing will be considered rude unless it’s Anosukinom who’s pulling you aside.” “I’m aware of the proper behavior expected of me,” Remin said. “I’m not,” Tano said. “I really can’t leave to check on the food?” “You must weigh it carefully against the disappointment of your slighted guests,” Orinakin told him. “For reasons both personal and political, people will want to speak with you and Remin. They’ve traveled here with any number of secondary motives, but the premise of the evening is to celebrate you and your marriage. There are so many guests that they’ll have to vie for the opportunity to speak with you personally, and the less available you are, the fewer people you’ll see. After the wedding, you’ll want time to yourselves, so people expect to speak with you tonight.” Tano frowned, his uncertainty clustering like a fine mist. “Are you sure that you aren’t just being polite? About them wanting to talk to me? I thought that I could come and go and no one would really care.” “For personal reasons, political reasons, religious reasons, and simple human interest, they want to know who you are. They want to get a good look at you and be introduced and speak to you themselves,” Orinakin explained. “Remin is a very important man, and his marriage is a significant event. They’ll want to see for themselves exactly who he’s marrying and what sort of person you are.” “He’s going to have to check on the food,” Remin said. “I’m going to have to drag him back here to get off. We can make it quick, but it’s going to happen.” Tano felt troubled for a moment, but he quickly came to some resolution and was back to his usual good cheer again. “If Prince Orinakin’s right, then we’ll have to make ourselves available to our guests. I’ll have to make sure that everything’s

running smoothly in the kitchen before it starts, and we can get off again now so we don’t get restless during the night.” Relieved, Orinakin hugged him. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’m sorry to keep you tethered to the ballroom when the food’s so important to you.” “It’s something I’ll have to get used to, I guess,” Tano said. “Being Remin’s husband is going to pull me away from being King Xio Voe’s chef sometimes. If King Xio Voe’s generous enough to permit it, I can get over it.” Remin still felt disgruntled. “I’ve been looking forward to sneaking off together.” “You can sneak off as much as you like tomorrow,” Orinakin said. “I can only guess that it’ll be more rewarding tomorrow, too.” Remin’s gaze brightened as anticipation lit his smile. “Do you know what’s so great about tomorrow?” “We’re getting married?” Tano guessed, watching Remin with fond happiness. “Never again will I have to hold off on what I want with the promise of what’s to come. Never again will I have to satisfy myself with promises and expectations and delayed gratification. I won’t have to hold on and be patient and wait while sex is dangled before me like a prize just out of reach. I’ll finally be able to have it and do it and take it instead of biding my time reassuring myself that it’ll be here soon. I’ve spent so long trying to make myself be content with what I have, trying to accept sexual limitations and promising myself that the reward will make it all worth it.” Taking a deep breath, he looked at Tano with fire in his eyes. “I will finally have that reward.” Instead of being intimidated by Remin’s lust, Tano smiled, appreciating and enjoying it, his arousal sweeping pleasantly through Orinakin. Grabbing a small pillow, Tano straddled Remin’s lap; sexual intent was so thick in the air, Orinakin could almost taste it. As the hair attendant excused herself, Tano licked Remin’s ear and said, “You’ll get as much of it as you can handle.” It was a lovely evening. Anosanim felt as if it were one of those perfect nights were everything went just right. Everyone was absolutely charming, his brothers were on their best behavior, so many dear friends were in town, the ballroom looked simply enchanting, his parents were superb hosts, and Remin and Tano were so entirely in love that he was flooded with happiness every time he looked at them. They were so cozy together, and so bright with the promise of their happy future, that he absolutely adored them. When he watched them together, as they chatted and smiled and met more well-wishers, he believed that they could be this happy always, and he wanted that for them.

For Anosanim’s own happiness, he had Ritek at his side all night. Floating through the ballroom on Ritek’s arm, Anosanim felt like part of a smoothly functioning unit. Ritek turned heads in the latest Ilaeian fashions, and spoke to everyone graciously, and was wonderfully clever about knowing when to invite one half of a couple to dance so that Anosanim could linger in conversation with the other half. Ritek was marvelously skilled at handling people; he charmed people who wanted to be charmed, flattered people who wanted to be flattered, argued with people who wanted to be challenged, and treated Anosanim with polite deference. Anosanim loved having a partner who gave him such uninhibited sexual attention in private and such well-polished respect in public. He was so happy with Ritek, and found Ritek such a perfect companion, it made him wish that he and Ritek had the luxury of time together. As Ritek spun him through a crowd of dancers, he was swept away by the joy of the moment, the romance of the evening, the love in Ritek’s eyes. Bade loved nights like tonight, when the palace was flooded with foreign dignitaries and everyone took advantage of the opportunity to jockey for political position. In the swirl of foreign clothing and clutter of foreign languages, Orinakin shone, and Bade’s chest swelled with pride at the sight of him running the show. Orinakin knew all of the languages, all of the customs. He recognized all of the faces and remembered all of the names. He knew which people to introduce to each other and which to keep apart. He kept conversations spinning with ease, bringing up points of international interest or obscure local politics depending on his audience. He was kind and understanding and effortlessly charismatic, and he kept his assistants constantly rotating through the crowd on new missions. Orinakin was the perfect host, putting everyone at ease, giving the huge ballroom of strangers the air of an intimate party of friends. Every time Bade looked up, he immediately scanned the room for Orinakin, and smiled at the sight of Orinakin, gorgeous and sophisticated and on top of the world. For Orinakin, a night like this would always represent work, but it was work that he excelled at. Bade saw Orinakin this way in cities all across the world, but tonight they were in Orikodisata, where Orinakin’s own citizens and family could see him orchestrate the evening with his typical suave machinations. This was the closest Bade got to showing Orinakin off, and he was filled with love for Orinakin, with pride. Tonight was a particular challenge; it was the largest international audience they’d hosted since Kudorin’s wedding, and with such a sizable crowd, with both Kudorin and Emperor Sei in one place, the potential for hostility was ripe. Anyone

else would’ve been tense or anxious at the pressure of the event, but Orinakin never broke a sweat. In fact, Orinakin did so well that many people probably didn’t even realize how much effort he was putting into keeping the night rolling smoothly. Which was part of the work of being a good host, Bade knew; not making it apparent how much work it really took. Really, if Bade hadn’t already been hopelessly in love with Orinakin, a night like this would’ve dazzled him. As it was, he couldn’t help but feel a little smug and a little giddy. That smart, charismatic, pan-lingual, gorgeous, multi-cultural genius was taking him to bed that night. And every night. It was an embarrassment of riches. “Stop gloating,” Vade said, pinching him. “Introduce me to that guy over there. He looks friendly.” Who did - - oh. “He’s married,” Bade said. That didn’t discourage Vade for more than an instant. “What about the guy to his left?” No. “He doesn’t speak Anorian, and neither one of you speaks Jacacean well enough.” Vade scowled at him, the kind of scowl that they’d perfected for public occasions, the one that would pass as a look of pleasant confusion to anyone else but meant that Vade was severely irritated with him. “Flawless Jacacean my is.” At that, Bade grinned. “Rusty Jacacean your is. I thought that you were working on it.” “I am working on it,” Vade said, reverting to Nosupolin, “but I’m a busy man. Some of us lead very busy lives, Bade. We can’t all lounge about with belas while our husbands shower us with purple diamonds.” “Yes,” Bade said, laughing. “Yes, that’s all that my life consists of. It’s marvelous, really.” Vade was already surveying the crowd again. “What about that guy?” Bade hated coughing in public, but at that, he did choke a little. “Vade, that’s a king who keeps his sex slaves locked up in cages when he travels. They’re carried around as part of his entourage.” “Oh.” Vade thought about that. “One of the Emperor’s allies, then, not Anosukinom’s?”

It was a great evening. The crowd was cheerful, the music was lively, and the food was, as Remin had known that it would be, delicious. He was caught in conversation by a few boring people, but he also had the chance to reconnect with old friends and have some great discussions with fun, smart, interesting guests. They asked about the wedding, but he also got to chat about politics and music and countless other topics. Including religion, always religion. Remin loved to talk about faith - - his faith, other people’s faith, the gods they believed in, the doubts they had, testimonials of reaffirmed faith, how they worshiped, what it all meant. Even in a crowded, noisy place like this, people confided in him, engaging him in frank discussion about deeply spiritual matters, and he thrived on that kind of conversation, on candid and intellectual back-and-forth about religion. He enjoyed the parade of people he spoke with that night, and he enjoyed sharing it with Tano. He always liked talking with Tano, and he found Tano to be a fun addition to any conversation. Sometimes was humble and quiet, sometimes chatty and full of information, Tano was always respectful and, at least in Remin’s opinion, wonderfully funny. As a reverent servant of the gods, and a venerated ruler, Remin was very aware of the hierarchies of life, the order of things; he knew his place, and he took great pains to be appropriately respectful. Tano, similarly, was very aware of, and settled in, his place in life, and was also very respectful of the people around him, whatever their own station. Remin wouldn’t have been able to abide someone who sniped nastily at the wealthy and powerful or at the poor and struggling, but Tano did neither. Tano liked people, enjoyed their company, and was always interested in catching up with old friends or getting to know someone new. A lot of Remin’s work - - and lot of Remin’s life - - was similar to this, speaking with people, getting to know them, accepting their praise, offering a bit of counsel. Tano was friendly and encouraging to everyone they met, greeting them with smiles and perky interest, ready to laugh or compliment or empathize. He never complained of boredom, never rolled his eyes, never let his attention wander while a guest was speaking. He was so friendly and involved and agreeable that he kept Remin’s energy up, turning with bright, interested eyes to each new guest. Remin had passed many similar nights alone, or with a temporary partner, like Anikira or one of his brothers. Now he could share the evening with Tano, creating memories together. They were collecting moments as a pair now, with jokes to share and stories to reflect on as a couple. One woman’s touching story of her recovered faith, one man’s particularly scandalous proposition, one flustered translator’s hilariously awkward gaffe, were all moments Remin shared with Tano now. And Remin was no longer alone; he had a partner, someone he

worked in tandem with, someone to help him keep the conversation running smoothly. Tano was so friendly and candid that he put people at their ease. It also dawned on Remin that Tano humanized him. Tano was a very ordinary sort of person, an everyday citizen. Very handsome and wonderfully sexy, of course, but not arrogant, not titled, not pampered or infamous, not associated with any scandal or history. Remin was inescapably different from other people, but Tano was like any Anorian citizen, and his presence made Remin more accessible. Before each new dish circulated through the ballroom, a sample tray was brought to Tano. Remin enjoyed watching him taste everything; he became intent on the food, taking on a professional air as he gave it a critical look. As he tasted, he sometimes developed a pleased, satisfied look and nodded, or sometimes had a displeased, doubtful look and started whispering instructions to the server. A few times, he smiled with immediate happiness and encouraged Remin to start eating; once, he grimaced and looked hesitant to swallow. At that moment, Remin wanted to push him towards the kitchen, knowing how badly he wanted to go back there and take over, but Tano merely took a deep breath, instructed the server, and apologized to their guests for the interruption. Several times during the night, at the right hint from Orinakin, Tano danced with a guest. Remin took particular pleasure in watching him, appreciating his confident movements, knowing how much he enjoyed it. Being with Remin brought new opportunities and new experiences to Tano’s life, and Remin was glad to be able to give Tano moments like these. Nights like this one. A year ago, Tano never would’ve expected to be at the center of an international event, of a formal, glittering ball in the royal palace. Then again, a year ago, Remin hadn’t been able to face so much friendly male attention and enjoy it. Life had brought them to a new place in their lives, a better place, a happier and more rewarding place. Life had brought them together. The cultural festivities surrounding a wedding made sense to Remin; a joyous moment in life like this was meant to be celebrated. Xio Voe was aware of the threads of love connecting people, and the sparkle of promise in potential bonds. Generally, he didn’t seek out that information; it came to him like any other observable knowledge, and he often downplayed it, repressing it slightly. It was, after all, not as important to his daily interactions as other information was, and he preferred not to waste his time in consideration of people’s personal or romantic lives when he was speaking to them on military matters. He also found that once information had entered his knowledge, he could not remove it. Being aware upon first meeting that people were in bad marriages was

rarely of use to him, even politically, and he preferred not to become sentimental and risk becoming emotionally involved in other people’s lives. It was, really, of no concern to him; most political marriages were based on several factors besides romantic love. Not everyone would be as happy in marriage as he strove to make Anosukinom, but not everyone deserved as much happiness as Anosukinom. If people married for political advantage, and received political advantage, that was the bargain they had struck. If they had hoped for a happy, loving marriage, they should have made that a more important factor in their assessment of candidates. On the eve of Remin’s wedding, Xio Voe was aware of Ilanosa’s presence. The Anorian god of love felt very close by, to him, almost tangible. Bonds of love became more obvious to Xio Voe, much more easily perceptible. Bade and Orinakin’s love, for example, was a visible string, bright and inviolable, keeping them tethered to each other no matter how they moved about the ballroom. Love was a network uniting everyone in the room, creating a vivid map of alliances and histories and promises. Anosukinom’s love overlaid it all, a pulsing light which could’ve overwhelmed all other bonds but instead complemented them, creating a complex web of affection and acceptance which left no one outside. Four spots in the room were particularly bright, particularly vivid. Anosukinom was one, Anorik Mutotanosa another. Anosukinom was love, embodied love, exuded love, extended love to everyone in the room and far beyond it. The former pharaoh was similarly generous and similarly well-loved. As was the royal gift, who created minor bonds wherever he went, offering and inspiring love as casually as he dispensed candy. The fourth spot was Remin and his fiancé, the new love everyone had gathered to celebrate. Remin and Chef Naritano Pitok were particularly aware of their love, still strengthening and grooming it, basking in its glow. As Xio Voe watched the room, he became aware of layers and layers of connections. Romantic love, familial love, friendships, alliances, yearning, betrayal, millions of ordinarily invisible cords connecting people, all of the ways they related to each other, some bonds surging with new life, some frayed and nearly snapped, some as strong as unbreakable chains. He could see, in a silent flash, in one suspended moment of insight, all of the love in the room, all of the hatred, all of the old hostilities, all of the great promise. He could see the loyalties to Anosukinom and to Orinakin. He could see the debts and alliances connecting people to Emperor Sei. He could see the roadmap of emotions tying people to Orina Anoris, to the Eternal Empire. He could see them, all of them, tied to him, united through him, in the bonds tethering him to Anosukinom and to Emperor Sei.

He could see how much his father loved him. He could see how much they all loved him. He’d known, all of his life, that people respected him, admired him, looked up to him, but in this rare flash he understood, viscerally, how earnestly they loved him. He felt it like a jolt in his body, a piercing pulse of love, as if Anosukinom had touched him without warning. It humbled him. It inspired unusual impulses. He felt, for instance, as if he would very much like to embrace his biological siblings. Deciding to do as a more convenient and private moment, he nonetheless felt compelled to verify that at least some of the people who loved him so greatly were aware that he returned the emotion. One of the people standing nearest to him was Selorin, and he held Selorin’s gaze as his uncanny awareness of love slowly faded. “I hope that you are aware of my familial affection for you.” No, that was incomplete. “I love you.” Lifting a blue eyebrow, Selorin smiled. When the two of them weren’t at odds, Selorin often responded positively to the sound of Xio Voe’s voice, indicating pleasure in Xio Voe’s honesty, and he did so now, his expression aglow with happy affection as he lightly touched Xio Voe’s arm. “Thank you. I love you, too.” Despite the curiosity in his eyes, he pushed for no explanation for the sudden expression of emotion. Satisfactory. Xio Voe resumed his duties as host. Kudorin was everywhere at once. He was in the kitchens, overseeing the chefs on Tano’s behalf. He was among the dancers, swaying to the music and enjoying the romance of the evening. He lurked among the dignitaries, scheming and playing political games. He swung from the stars and looked down on the workers preparing the stadium for tomorrow’s wedding. He laughed with his family and danced with his guests and embraced his friends and joined everyone in celebrating love and marriage and the promise of the future. And he stood politely in one corner of the ballroom and said properly enigmatic things to his guests and acted as much like any other ruler as he could stand to be. “…was, mmff, fantastic,” Tano said, trying to unbutton his shirt and kiss Remin and get through the door into their apartment all at once. Fancy clothes were much harder to get out of than everyday clothes. Too many little hooks and buttons and things. “The orchestra was, mmm, unn, amazing, I could’ve danced for hours.”

“I love the way you dance. Can’t wait to come on you,” Remin moaned, shoving them both through the door. Tano stumbled but Remin dragged him along and he licked at Remin’s neck, pushing Remin up against the wall and yanking off Remin’s clothes. When Remin was mostly bare, Tano lost patience and dropped to his knees, running his hands over Remin’s taut, smooth thighs and sucking hard at Remin’s pelvic bone. Remin groaned at that, one hand sinking into Tano’s hair and the other hand wrapping around his dick. While Remin masturbated with long, quick pulls, Tano licked as close to Remin’s groin as he dared, turned on by the sounds of Remin’s breathy, lusting moans and the slide of Remin’s erection between those clever, experienced fingers. Aching for it, Tano held on until Remin came on his shoulder, hot and wet, and then he stood up, kissing Remin and undoing his fly one-handed. Remin’s hands were hot on his torso, bold, needy, feeling over his body and pulling on his arms, wanting him. It only took a few strokes before he was hitting climax, calling out in mindless pleasure while he spurted across Remin’s groin. Immediately Remin was shuddering, one hand dropping down to smear his cum over Remin’s dick, over Remin’s balls, and he barely got his dick back in his pants before they were kissing again, pulling on each other, stumbling towards the bedroom. It was the best kind of night. Anosanim shared explosive, intimate lovesex with Ritek, and then they snuggled in to talk about the evening. There was so much to go over, so many details to examine! Who was there, and what everyone wore, and who spoke with whom, and who danced with whom, and what everyone had talked about, and who hadn’t been seen together at all and what that might mean. Ritek cared about these things as much as Anosanim did, and had the most intriguing insights; they spent twenty minutes alone speculating on the possibilities of King Ouia’s cuffs. And then they shared lovesex again, and Anosanim reveled in the splendor of having someone who wanted to talk about fashion with him and brought him such raw, grand ecstasy. “You’re simply magnificent,” he said as they cuddled up comfortably, resting his head on Ritek’s brawny chest. “You’re absolute perfection,” Ritek whispered, stroking his waist. He wished that he could have this every night.

Straightening the pillows while Remin fished one of the dildos from the tangle of covers at the foot of the bed, Tano asked, again, “How was the food, do you think? Really?” “Really, I think that was it superb.” Flopping down carelessly, Remin pulled him in, and he sank down cozily, yawning against Remin’s shoulder. “It was delicious. Especially the pastry, I swear, I could’ve eaten a wagonload.” Oh, “Do you want me to-” Remin’s hand on his shoulder pushed him back down. “Don’t you dare get up and race to the kitchen. We’re getting married tomorrow, and we’ll spend every night hereafter rutting on each other like savage beasts. This is the last night you’ll ever know sleep, so enjoy it.” Laughing, Tano settled back in, running an appreciative hand over Remin’s silky hip. “I’ll have to build naps into my schedule. One after breakfast and one after lunch, maybe.” A soft, seductive purr; Remin’s tongue found his ear. “If you don’t devote most of your free time to sucking my dick, I’m going to be very disappointed.” Oh, yes. Mmm, “So am I,” Tano murmured, pushing Remin back against the mattress and wondering where that dildo had gone. Kudorin didn’t want to sleep. He cuddled Anikira for a while, and watched Xio Voe sleep, and then he went to fuck his belas. Then he fucked them again. Then he took them up to the roof to play some games in the moonlight. Then he went for a horseback ride. Then he woke up Xio Voe and raised the sun, and Xio Voe fucked him hard, and when he came his ecstasy was so intense that he accidentally made Orinakin come, too. Fortunately, Orinakin hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet. Xio Voe pinned him against the balcony, kissing his jaw, teeth testing his skin so tenderly that he wanted Xio Voe to fuck him again. “You are in an excitable mood,” Xio Voe whispered, nails dragging lightly across his collarbone until he shivered with pleasure. “I would enjoy indulging in further sexual activity with you for hours if Remin’s wedding did not place other demands upon our time.” Yes. Yes, he wanted that, too, and it turned him on further to feel Xio Voe’s passion for him. “It is a day of love and of joy.” Love and joy, two things which inhabited his life in abundance, two things Xio Voe brought him every day. “I love you so much, I want to marry you again and start all over again, but I cherish everything that we’ve shared and everything that we’ve built together. I want to live every day as if it’s the first day I ever loved you, so I can feel that shimmering

newness and wonder, but I treasure all of the days we’ve spent together, all of the time we’ve had to learn each other and respond to each other and learn our little habits.” As he gazed up earnestly into Xio Voe’s eyes, Xio Voe smiled a little hint of a smile and kissed him again, a light touch of lips which made his breath catch in his throat. “I love you, jarouje.” And that was all he’d needed to hear. Love poured through Remin, peace rolling through him, hope and joy washing over him in harmonious waves. He felt whole, uplifted, filled with a rising, fluttering sense of elation. He was one with the universe, he was transcendent, he was infinitely and unquestioningly loved, heRemin opened his eyes to find Kudorin snuggled up in bed with him, their faces only inches apart. With a dreamy smile, Kudorin sighed fondly. “Good morning, Inanodat.” A good morning indeed. “The gods are with us on this day as on all days,” Remin murmured, kissing Kudorin’s cheek. He felt like a better person whenever Kudorin’s love bathed his soul this way. More faithful, more generous, more kind, more joyful. He hugged Kudorin, grateful for Kudorin’s love, glad that Kudorin accepted his choices and was happy on his wedding day. Yes, his wedding day. Remin’s hand slid back to Tano’s firm, bare thigh. Tano was spooned up behind him, pressed snugly against him, and at his touch, Tano made a quiet, sleepy noise against his shoulder, the arm around his waist tightening. “I am glad to be here to celebrate your happiness with you,” Kudorin said, stroking his hair. “I am always glad to be a part of your daily life, Anoremin. You are inestimably precious to me.” The sincerity of Kudorin’s love for him was undeniable, and he hugged Kudorin tightly, closing his eyes as Kudorin’s peace soared through him. “I love you, and I’m grateful for every moment that we spend together.” “I’m glad that you found someone you’re eager to share your life with.” Kudorin kissed him, caressing his cheek, smiling at him with warmth and acceptance. “I’m glad to bring Tano into our family today. He will have my love, Anoremin, as all of my brothers and sisters do.” Sisters? Plural? If Kudorin meant that literally, then Xio Voe had another sister besides Xio Wae? Or was Kudorin including future sisters they didn’t have yet, maybe Desin’s wife?

“You agonize over my every word and seek meaning in my every sentence.” Of course he did; Remin considered it his duty to scrutinize Kudorin’s comments for layers of meaning and undiscovered significance. But before he could explain that, Kudorin chuckled, tapping at Remin’s nose. “Your role in the wedding is not one of priest today. You are simply a man in love seeking unity before the gods.” Sitting up, Kudorin made the sign to the gods, passing a hand over Remin’s shoulder and letting his hand hover over Tano’s resting body. “Inanodat,” he whispered, and a minor flicker of irritation, frustration, drew his eyebrows together. “It weighs on me, my inability to touch Bade. Now Tano joins our family and I cannot touch my Anoremin’s beloved. I wish to embrace him and share with him my love. I wish to know the softness of his skin against my own fingers.” Remin knew how important physical touch was to Kudorin. “You may touch him through me. At any time.” Kudorin didn’t look entirely satisfied with that offer, but he kissed Remin’s cheek and touched Remin’s chin, smiling into Remin’s eyes. “The world rejoices in your happiness, Anoremin. May the joy and peace we find in our shared celebration last forever.” “Anoha,” Remin said, and Kudorin was gone. It was such an exciting day! Breakfast was a fun little affair; everyone had enjoyed the ball the night before, and looked forward to the wedding and festivities to follow, so conversation was light and easy, guests chatting pleasantly about last night’s music and who would be seated where in the stadium. Anosanim was glad to see everyone getting along so well! Anosanim had always wanted to get married. Love and romance had always fascinated him; he absolutely adored the idea of feeling so breathtakingly passionate about someone that he simply couldn’t take it any longer and had to get married. And the wedding itself, well, who could resist? It was one of the ultimate moments in life for dressing up and putting on a major production. A wedding was romance and art and passion and pageantry, everything that appealed to Anosanim in one event, witnessed by friends and family. He couldn’t wait to get married. He wished that he could do it more than once, but the only real way for that to happen would be if his first husband completed his life, so that was certainly out of the question! He was vastly excited for Remin. It was going to be a marvelous wedding, simply beautiful! It was a lovely day, too, not too hot, with a spectacularly blue sky. Even Desin had agreed that the weather was particularly nice.

Anosanim didn’t want to get in Remin’s way too early, so he checked on his parents, first. Anosadum looked gracefully elegant, of course, and Sanuk looked terribly handsome, once Anosanim straightened out a few details. Sadum was weepy, and seeing her so happy and so emotional made Anosanim tear up, too, and that only made her cry harder, and that made him cry harder, and Anosanim had to leave before they both deteriorated into wet messes. Ritek had gone home to dress, which left Anosanim with more time to oversee Talin’s preparations. Which Talin would thank him for, one day. “Chef Pitok!” As Tano entered the kitchen, surprised faces turned to him in greeting. Someone started to applaud, and then others joined in, clapping and laughing and offering congratulations. Surprised and embarrassed, he thanked everyone. Having so many people interested and happy for him was really touching, and he felt really good about it, and then as everyone got back to work he found Lo Ariside and she told him that she’d started them off with a prayer earlier because she’d thought that he’d like that, and he felt even better. There was way too much work to do, and not enough time for him to participate like he wanted to, but he spoke with all of the head chefs, and then he checked up on some of the dishes, tasting everything he could to make sure that it was going as he’d planned. He had to get back to Remin, had to get dressed and ready, but there were so many details to manage, so many littleA tiger roared. While everyone jumped and screamed and scrambled, Tano managed not to shriek embarrassingly loudly. Turning to the doorway, he saw Norisa - - which was something of a relief, because he would’ve had real reason to worry if he’d seen another wild animal entirely. It was easy to spot her, because the area around her had been vacated as people hastily removed themselves from her presence. Waiting to see if she might roar again, trying to decide whether to approach or not, Tano wondered how in the world she managed to be so loud. She’d sounded like some deadly, monstrous creature arriving to bring their doom. “Norisa!” Prince Desin strode up behind her, looking not at all repentant. “Bad girl.” Picking her up, he grinned at Tano. “Sorry about that. She got ahead of me. Are you finished here? You’re running out of time if you want to get dressed and let the paint dry.”

There were still a few details - - but if they’d sent Prince Desin to find him, he had to be late, and he didn’t want to cause an inconvenience. “Yes, Prince Desin, I’ll be right there.” Turning to Lo Ariside, he said, “When the baked puffs are-” “We’ll take care of it,” she said briskly, picking up a knife. Nodding, he took one last look. Muttering a hasty, hopeful prayer under his breath, he turned to go. “Come on,” Prince Desin said, draping an arm over his shoulders and pulling him along. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all dressed up.” Orinakin smiled. “You’re not nervous.” Why be nervous over something natural and inevitable? “The sun rises, the moons cross, the river flows.” On his back on the table, he found the tickle of the paintbrushes pleasingly sensual. “I will marry Tano and spend my life with him.” Orinakin glanced away, toward the doorway; wondering what had caught his attention, Remin craned his neck to see Rini flit into the room. “Hey, oh, wow, you look great!” Rini stared at him with wide, interested eyes. “Thank you,” Remin said. Rini, too, looked great, in apparel unsuited for public. “Go and change.” “What?” Frowning, Rini looked down at himself, then scowled at Remin. “There’s nothing wrong with what I have on.” A mischievous smile brightened his face. “You should see what Tano has on! If he can-” “Tano?” Was Tano dressed already? He’d thought that Tano was in the kitchens. “Where is he?” “No one trusts the two of you to keep your hands off of each other, so they’re dressing him down the hall,” Rini said frankly. “They’re about to start the painting, they’re just finishing his make-up. Anosanim sent me to get some nail polish.” “Bring him here,” Remin ordered. “I want-” “Are you kidding?” Rini asked. “You’d climb all over him. You’d smear all of the paint and they’d have to start all over. You’d get cum stains on your clothes, and Anosanim would be super pissed off.” “The paint will dry soon,” Orinakin promised. “He’ll be ready for your perusal then.” Irritated, Remin took a deep breath, trying to ease himself into calming thoughts. He wanted to be with Tano - - he wanted to see Tano and talk to Tano and watch Tano get dressed and hear what Tano had to say about the painting, and from

here he didn’t know what Tano thought, how Tano felt, what Tano was doing. It annoyed him to be separated from Tano so unexpectedly and, really, frivolously. “I know how you feel,” Orinakin said, stepping nearer. Orinakin’s fingers drifted across his forehead in a soft caress. “When I was being dressed and painted before my wedding, Bade was across the palace. I wanted to be with him, to share the experience with him. I wanted to be there for his reactions to the painting and to share in his happiness or anxiety or curiosity or whatever he was going through, however he felt. It seems so inevitable that you’ll always be together - - you’re getting married so that you can link and blend your lives - and then right as you’re preparing to be wed, he’s not right there beside you like he should be.” Remin smiled up at him. “Our Orinakin, always so understanding.” “Our Anoremin, always so unbearable,” Rini muttered from the next room. As Orinakin snickered, Remin rolled his eyes. “I heard that, Unnecessary.” “I love you!” Rini called in a fond, sunny voice. Orinakin and Remin smiled, amused. “You’re a wonderful brother and I adore you!” “I love you, too,” Remin said. “Go change clothes.” Vade was in the hallway with Bade and Anikira when Rini jogged out of Remin’s quarters. “Hey.” Hugging Anikira, Rini handed Bade something. Nail polish? “Can you take this to Tano super fast for me? I’d do it but Remin doesn’t like what I’m wearing and I have to go change so that I can look respectable.” Judging from Rini’s tone, he was making a face to suggest how ridiculous Remin’s opinion was, but Vade couldn’t be sure; he was too preoccupied with staring at Rini’s body to see Rini’s face. Rini had on a sort of vest-looking top and a tiny skirt, both apparently made out of white lace. He also had on tights or leggings made of some sort of mesh or netting. His outfit looked very expensive, but it also looked incredibly inappropriate. That sort of attire had to be meant for private wear, in the bedroom. “How judgmental and strict of Remin, to disapprove,” Anikira said with a smile. “He should be ashamed of himself. Well, it is his wedding day, so let’s indulge him this once, shall we? Go and change,” she instructed, giving Rini a little push. “We’ll finish your other errands for you.” “Come with me,” Rini said, taking Vade’s hand. “You’re a prude, you can help me find something respectable to wear.”

What?! “I’m a - - I’m not a prude!” Vade protested. Bade shrugged and Anikira just smiled at him as Rini pulled him away. Rini had known that he’d never get away with wearing that; he’d just wanted to rile Remin up a little bit for fun. While Vade muttered in Nosupolin, he undressed; he was still taking off clothes when the muttering stopped, and he glanced over to find Vade staring at him in open-mouthed thrall. He was used to people looking at him like that, but it was always nice, so he grinned and let Vade get a good view before he got dressed. “Tano was telling us about some of the Ilaeian wedding traditions. It made me think about the Nosupolin stuff Bade and Orinakin did. Like turning over the cards. Whenever Orinakin and Bade are away, they leave their tadjka behind, and I go in and look at it sometimes. I’m afraid to touch it because I feel like I’d be devastated if anything happened to it. That’s funny, isn’t it?” “It’s sacred,” Vade said, frowning. “Yeah, but it’s not real. That’s what I’m saying, there’s nothing really magical about it, it’s just a pretty little box, but we treat it like it has power over reality. I wonder if that’s how magic works, like if we think that it has magic, if we believe it, then it does.” “That’s not how magic works.” Vade was looking at him as if he were strange. Rini sat down on a stool to lace his sandals. “Then why is the tadjka sacred?” “It’s.” Vade didn’t seem to know what to say. “It’s tradition.” Hunh. Rini finished and stood again, checking the mirror. He had to do something different with his hair. “Are you going to have a tadjka?” It was such a pretty box, it made him want one. “Yes, of course.” Maybe everyone should have one. A sacred little box to put their love in. To keep it safe and pure no matter what else happened. So that even when things got rough and their immediate emotions twisted, their original, true love would always be there, protected and secure.

Part 288 Almost time, it was almost time! Tano tried to wait patiently while Prince Anosanim fussed over his hair again, but he was ready to go. Ready to find Remin and go out there and get married. It was here, it was finally happening,

this amazing fantasy come to life, he was about to marry Remin. It was hard to believe it but it was actually happening and he wanted to jump into it, to seize it, to charge right through it so that it would be real and factual and true. He couldn’t wait to be Remin’s husband, couldn’t wait for this next stage of his life, couldn’t wait to live it out and experience his new reality. Life as Remin’s husband. It was like a dream. What would it be like? How could he make it go well? What if it went too well and the happiness overwhelmed his brain and he completely lost his grip on reality? That was definitely possible, because being married to Remin would be too much happiness for anyone to handle. “Hi,” Anosukinom said, walking into the room. Tano was so glad to see Anosukinom, so happy and grateful, that he started to kneel, but Prince Anosanim made a chiding sound and tugged him back up. “I love you, too,” Anosukinom told Tano with a smile, and Tano smiled back, touched that Anosukinom heard and acknowledge and returned his love. Anosukinom hugged Prince Talin, then hugged Prince Anosanim from behind, studying Tano over his shoulder. Realizing that Anosukinom was reading the prayers on his chest, Tano held still. He hoped that he looked all right. He had a lot of skin exposed, because Remin had wanted several sets of prayers painted on his body. Little gold baubles and charms hung from a gold hoop on each of his shoulders; a gold chain ran across his collarbone, connecting the hoops. Very soft, gauzy, golden fabric hung down from each hoop, not covering his back like a cape but framing it like a curtain, falling past his waist and drifting to mid-thigh. Golden fabric had been twisted and tied around his upper arms and again around his lower arms in criss-crossing shapes and elaborate knots. The fabric around his forearm was linked by a delicate gold chain to a ring on his middle finger. The entirety of his chest and back were exposed and decorated in intricate script. The painters had drawn prayers on his thighs as well. Three horizontal bands of that golden, gauzy fabric - - one around his waist, one below, one just across the tops of his thighs - - came together to form, well, he certainly couldn’t call it pants, or even shorts. There was a soft little loincloth over the necessary bits, and covering that was a slim fall of fabric in front and a matching one in back. The hanging fabric was long, down to his ankles, just wide enough to disguise the loincloth. A slim gold chain with a medallion hung from the lowest of the three horizontal bands, connecting the right side to the left. It was very nicely decorative, and it also kept the length of draping cloth from flapping up in a breeze and showing the world the loincloth beneath. The straps to his golden sandals had been tied in elaborate patterns halfway up his calves.

Except for little scraps of flimsy fabric here and there, he was pretty much naked, but the snug loincloth and the way the cloth draped over it would do a decent job of covering his erection, and that was all he cared about. “Anoha Ilanosa,” Anosukinom said, making the sign to the gods. Everyone else in the room did the same, and Tano wanted to bow, or hug Anosukinom. “To honor tradition, I must ask. Teritano,” Anosukinom said, and Tano grinned at the nickname, “do you swear to me, before Ilanosa, that you enter into this marriage with an honest and open heart?” “Yes,” Tano said. He didn’t have to think about it first. “Of course.” “May Ilanosa and all of the gods be with you on this blessed day.” Anosukinom made the sign to the gods again, then gave Prince Anosanim another squeeze. “Tano, I - - hug him for me,” he instructed someone behind Tano. “It would be my pleasure,” Prince Selorin’s low, smooth voice murmured, and Prince Selorin’s arms circled his waist from behind. Enjoying the embrace, Tano sighed, leaning back against Prince Selorin a little, stroking one silky, muscular forearm. “Tano,” Anosukinom began again. His expression was open and kind; he was so beautiful that Tano couldn’t take all of him in at once and had to focus on a bit at a time. His mouth, one eye, his chin, an ear. Glimpses of unqualified perfection. “We’re very glad to welcome you into our family today. We have loved you and watched over you and cheered for you from afar. We have laughed with you and been nourished by you and gotten to know you since you joined us here in the palace. You are our family now. You will see the best and the worst of us. I love you, Inanodat, and I am proud to count you among us.” “Oh, Kudorin, that was splendid,” Prince Anosanim said, dabbing at one eye with a lacy, orange handkerchief. “Thank you, Anosukinom.” Tano was so touched he couldn’t blame Prince Anosanim for crying. Wanting to hug Prince Anosanim, he caressed Prince Selorin’s hands. “Thank you, you’ve been so kind to me, so generous. I’m so grateful and so honored by the way you’ve included me. I’ll be the best brother I can be, and the best husband I can be. It means so much to me to know you at all, any of you, and to be accepted like this, I don’t know if I can tell you how much this means to me and still make any sense, this is so special to me and so important to me.” Prince Selorin kissed the back of his neck, embrace tightening around him. “Your sincerity is eloquence enough.”

“Oh,” Prince Anosanim said, coming forward to hug him, all soft hair and fine clothing and the scent of peaches. Anosukinom chuckled. “Let’s go. Remin’s impatient to begin.” “Our big brother’s getting married!” Rini exclaimed, throwing his arms around Remin again. “Big?” Desin asked with a smirk, tugging on Rini’s hair. “Speak for yourself.” “We’re so happy for you.” Orinakin’s embrace was loving, and Orinakin’s smile was fond, a happy and affectionate smile that had Remin smiling back. “We’re so glad that it’s Tano.” Anikira adjusted Rini’s scarf, smoothing the hair Desin had ruffled. “I don’t know about you, but I adore Tano. Bringing someone new into the family can make for a rough adjustment, but you chose a good one.” Hugging Orinakin again, Remin grinned at Anikira. “I’m glad that you approve.” “I love you,” Orinakin said, kissing his cheek. “All right, let’s go keep our guests happy.” Turning, Orinakin herded Rini towards the door. “It’s almost time. Go get Bade for me.” Desin gave Remin a rib-crushing hug. “Try not to look too stupid flapping your arms and dancing around out there.” “Everyone looks stupid during the invocation,” Anikira said. “It’s one of the great equalizers in life.” “Thank you, I’ll be fine,” Remin said. Desin snorted and walked out. Talin, who’d been sitting on the arm of the sofa in patient silence, got to his feet. “Nice outfit.” Remin grinned, completely unself-conscious and very pleased about that. “Thanks.” He hugged Talin, glad to have his brothers’ support for such a significant event. “I love you.” “Love you, too.” Talin kissed his cheek. “Have fun out there.” As Talin left him alone with Anikira, Remin wished that he had a timepiece. He was ready to get out there, ready to begin. Where was Kudorin? What was keeping Tano? “Relax.” Anikira sat back, crossing her legs. “He’ll be here momentarily. Not even a cartload of fresh ingredients could distract Tano today.”

Remin resisted the urge to pace. He would’ve tried adopting some aloof posture, but he didn’t want to risk sitting down and smearing the prayers on the backs of his thighs where the paint hadn’t dried yet. “The well-fed should not chide the famished for rushing to dinner.” “Hmm. Yes, I am already married,” Anikira acknowledged. “It’s so nice, having an adoring, generous, faithful husband. One who sees to my every need and indulges my every desire and provides me with infinite amounts of passionate, exciting, wildly orgasmic sex. It’s - - oh, I’m sorry, Remin. You don’t know what that’s like, do you?” When he shot her a dark look, she laughed, waving his irritation away with a dismissive gesture. “Please don’t expect anyone to feel sorry for you today. Your belly is hardly empty. If you were lonely and seeking love, the comparison would be more apt. You’re minutes away from a happy marriage to someone utterly devoted to you.” Yes, he was, and the thought made Remin feel pleased and eager and humble and lusty and a little quietly giddy. He felt strong and capable and ready to conquer worlds. He felt a rush of promise for the future. Flexing, he looked down at one bare forearm to read a prayer written there. In the dark of night and glow of day, Ilanosa, let me know love. In times of trauma and in times of glee, Ilanosa, let me seek love. In the wonder of my youth and in the comfort of my maturity, Ilanosa, let me give love. Over the millennia, the traditional wedding prayers had changed. Remin had made sure to bare enough space on his own body and on Tano’s to include several different prayers, some of them wedding-specific, some of them his own favorites. The wedding as a religious ceremony held great significance for him, and he meant to treat it not simply as a moment for culture or politics but as a deeply spiritual rite. He felt very anchored to Ilanosa, very aware of the pulse of love vibrating in all of the activity around him. Often when he finished meditating, as he opened his eyes he experienced a moment of disorientation, of feeling very pure and very fresh and very aware of the great forces at work in the universe, as if he’d momentarily been locked into a vast, profound understanding of some unfathomable mystery, something too great for his waking mind to comprehend which left him fundamentally changed nonetheless. He felt that now, had felt it all day, as if he were on the verge of remembering some wisp of a dream that would explain everything. As if he might turn his head, and Ilanosa’s voice would catch his ear, and he’d know love in a way he never could have imagined. Anikira was now idly eyeing his body. He was no longer accustomed to dressing so scantily in public, but he was glad to do it today. He wanted to cast away his fear, his doubt, his tension. There was no place for that in his life anymore.

To show the prayers on his back, his hair had been pulled into a long golden ponytail, spilling from a braided knot at the top of his head. From some gold silk around his neck hung a medallion, and from the medallion hung delicate strands of beads, dripping down towards his navel and connecting to his skirt. That same medallion served as a clasp to hold in place the slim, golden span of fabric running across his back and upper arms like a hint of a shawl. His skirt was very short and richly embroidered; his sandals were simple. He wore gold bands around his arms and thighs, artfully separating expanses of skin for different prayers. As he’d dedicated his life in service to the gods, he’d dedicated his body today in prayer to Ilanosa. The beads and bangles and bits of silk were mere frippery; the only scrap meant to cover him was the skirt, which was shorter than anything he’d permit Rini to wear and started so low on his hips that he was about an inch away from showing off his lovely golden pubic hair. If he hadn’t been Anorian and therefore naturally light on body hair, he would’ve had to add some fabric. His mind was drifting to his recent Nosupolin partner’s handsome, curly pubes and how sexy Tano had looked nuzzling into them, when Anikira suddenly stood and he realized that his parents were in the room. Amid the happy exclamations and loving hugs and affectionate well wishes, Remin shared in a moment of prayer with his parents. And then, finally, Tano arrived. Remin had helped to plan the prayers and approve the outfit, but he hadn’t seen it all together, all on Tano, at once, and he hadn’t been prepared for the rush of love and lust and pride which surged through him as Tano walked into the room. Tano’s firm, sculpted body was on grand display, and he moved with easy confidence, cheerful and affectionate as he hugged and bowed and accepted congratulations. His fit, taut body sent Remin’s pulse thrumming with the basest of urges, his sunny smiles and fond laughter charmed a smile to Remin’s lips, his winsome familiarity with Remin’s family - - his family, now - - warmed Remin’s heart, and when their eyes met and he looked at Remin with all of the love and trust and desire in the world, Remin fell in love with him all over again. Remin absolutely adored this man, loved him and wanted him and enjoyed life more simply by being around him. Maybe it was true that Remin could have almost anyone in the world, anyone he wanted, but that didn’t matter. This was the man Remin chose; this was the man Remin wanted to marry. Walking through the tunnel, Tano gripped Remin’s hand. He wanted to sprint forward, to race to the stadium. The only thing really holding him in check was the fact that Anosukinom and King Xio Voe were right in front of him, and it would

have been inexcusably rude of him to brush past them and run ahead. King Xio Voe wasn’t really the kind of person anyone could just knock aside to get somewhere. As they walked, Tano tried to lock in the details of the moment. This was the day he was marrying Remin, this was the trek to the stadium where he’d marry Remin, and he wanted to remember it forever. He smiled at Remin and Remin smiled back, and he immediately felt loving and giddy because it was Remin, because Remin’s smile always did that to him, because he loved it when Remin was happy. Belatedly, he remembered to look away, because it would be really embarrassing if he got disoriented from staring at Remin and walked smack into King Xio Voe, who also wasn’t the kind of person anyone could just bump into. So he made himself look ahead again. At King Xio Voe’s long-legged stride and flowing black cape and elaborate crown. Remin’s crown was beautiful, really, with the symbols of the gods etched into it. Anosukinom’s looked sort of fantastic, and Tano could swear that some of the jewels were floating. King Xio Voe’s looked heavy with huge chunks of black diamond. While Tano watched, Anosukinom’s hand bumped into the back of King Xio Voe’s hand, and then brushed against it again, and then Anosukinom’s fingers caught at King Xio Voe’s cape. King Xio Voe took Anosukinom’s hand in his own, locking their fingers, and Anosukinom looked up at him happily, fondly. King Xio Voe’s thumb rubbed lightly over Anosukinom’s knuckles, and Tano grinned at the sign of affection. As they neared the end of the tunnel, excitement skittered in Tano’s chest. He could hear the crowd now, the roar of voices. “This is it,” Anosukinom said, dropping King Xio Voe’s hand. He leaned back to kiss Remin’s cheek, then grinned and slapped King Xio Voe’s ass. “Go get ‘em.” Tano pretended not to have noticed that. At all. King Xio Voe gave Anosukinom a long, expressionless, completely unreadable look, then pivoted and strode into the stadium with all of the majesty of a hero storming castle gates. The flourish of trumpets was accompanied by a hearty cheer as everyone hailed King Xio Voe’s arrival. At the center of the stadium was a platform covered in black cloth. On top of it was an altar; around it stood some of Ilanosa’s priests. Briefly, in his commanding, cavernous voice, King Xio Voe blessed the day in Ilanosa’s name and introduced Anosukinom. Watching Anosukinom enter the stadium, Tano squeezed Remin’s hand. “I love you so much,” he met Remin’s eyes, “so much. Thank you for marrying me.”

“Tano,” Remin breathed, hugging him. “Thank you.” Remin’s embrace was tight and strong and wonderful, and he hugged Remin back, closing his eyes, treasuring the feel of Remin’s arms around him. “I love you, too, Tano. As the birds rejoice in the new day, I rejoice in you.” Feeling his face break into a wide smile, Tano only wanted to hug Remin closer. “I love it when you say things like that.” Anosukinom was speaking, so they turned towards him, holding onto each other and listening as Anosukinom led the crowd in prayer. It was moving to hear a prayer from Anosukinom’s own mouth, and somehow everything he said was something that Tano needed to hear, something he hadn’t even realized that he’d needed to hear. This was a moment in time when his life would change forever. For once, this life-changing moment was a good one, a tremendously positive change he’d chosen for himself. Not an unexpected tragic event, or a big event disguised as an ordinary one like considering a new job, but a wonderful, happy moment that he’d gotten to set a date for and plan for and look forward to. That was, all on its own, a beautiful thing. And then it was time to go out. Time to share this amazing moment with the man he loved. Tano kissed Remin and whispered, “I love you,” and Remin whispered, “Yes, always,” and Remin smelled like incense, and Tano could have lived in that moment forever. And then they were holding hands, stepping into the stadium, together. It couldn’t have been that lengthy of a walk, but it seemed to take such a long time. Tano had plenty of time to feel the firm slenderness of Remin’s hand on his. The soft brush of Remin’s hair against his shoulder. The cushion of the grass under the golden lane of fabric beneath his feet. The stadium was packed with people, so many people, more people than he’d been certain would fit in Orikodisata all at once. He hoped that Lo Ariside had made it out of the kitchen to see this. He easily found the extra-vibrant splash of color of the Seven Siblings, their parents and aunt and uncles. His parents, his aunts and uncles, now, and the thought made him smile, but his cheeks already hurt from smiling. When they reached the platform, King Xio Voe was as cold as usual, but Anosukinom greeted them with loving smiles and even hugged Remin. Tano wasn’t used to being the center of attention among this many people, but then he looked at Remin. This golden child of the gods, gold jewelry gleaming in the sunlight, painted prayers shimmering on his skin, magnificent golden hair gently blowing in the wind. He looked every bit the magnificent, divine, royal prince that Tano saw every time he looked into Remin’s eyes. When Anosukinom asked, he

was happy to say, “I come here, before Ilanosa, before you all, to enter into marriage with this man, His Royal Highness, Prince Anosatim Inanodat Anoremin A Hiti.” Remin smiled at him, those enthralling eyes sparkling with love, and Tano’s chest tightened with emotion. When Remin said the words, in that magnificent, rich, beautifully manipulative voice, Tano was so happy to hear it that he kissed Remin’s cheek and rubbed his nose into Remin’s hair and whispered, “I love you.” Remin rewarded him with a warm, sexy smile and whispered, “I love you, too,” and in that moment, Tano felt as if they were the only two people in the world. It made him feel like the two of them would be together forever, as one team, one unit, simply as one. Anosukinom and King Xio Voe ran the ceremony smoothly, working together easily. As Tano went through the steps of the traditional invocation with Remin, gesturing and posing, he thought about all of the royal high priests before Remin, and all of the people who’d married them, and how blessed those people must have felt. He wondered how they’d met, what they’d been like, how they’d learned to be good spouses and build healthy marriages. How they’d felt standing before Anosukinom and the world, pledging themselves in marriage. He hoped that they’d been as overjoyed as he was. They must have been. He wondered if the previous Anoremins had been as graceful and confident and sexy as his was. As the two of them went through the dance together and pretended to grow like trees, Remin winked at him. No one else could possibly be this perfect. King Xio Voe put Remin’s hand over Tano’s, and when Anosukinom’s hand settled atop, Tano could feel the peculiar sensation, not quite pain, of Anosukinom’s aura. It was like a prickling, pushing buzz, like something he should pull away from, but he wanted to press closer. “Naritano,” Anosukinom said. “Do you wish to marry Prince Anoremin A Hiti, understanding that this is a permanent and legally recognized union?” “Yes,” Tano said right away. “Before Ilanosa, in the eyes of the pharaoh Anosukinom, yes.” Permanent, this was permanent. His life would be this way forever. It was an exhilarating comment, something public and irrevocable. “Prince Anoremin, do you wish to marry Naritano Pitok, understanding that this is a permanent and legally recognized union?” Remin’s voice was confident and clear. “Before Ilanosa, in the eyes of the pharaoh Anosukinom, yes.”

Anosukinom looked at Tano with sparkling, stunning eyes and a merry, private smile as if he’d done something to make Anosukinom happy and only the two of them knew what it was. “Tano, why have you chosen this man?” “How could I not?” Tano asked. “I had to, I would stayed by his side forever even if he had married someone else. I love him, I want to be with him in everything and help him through anything and make him laugh and make him smile and keep him well-fed. I love everything about him, from his compassion, his leadership, and his insight into humanity, to his beautiful voice and his dazzling eyes. He’s a passionate man, and he understands that my life’s passion is food, and he appreciates what I do like no one else. I share his devotion to the gods and I work hard to stay close to them. I feel that closeness every time I look at this amazing man, this gift from the gods, knowing the same gods made us both and love us all. He listens to me, he respects me, he values my opinions. It’s natural for me to want to do things for him and take care of him, but he gives me so much in return without even realizing it. He makes me happy in so many ways. I’d do anything for him. I love him with all of my heart and I will do whatever I can to be a good husband to him. Forever.” The expression of love and wonder on Remin’s face was priceless. Tano had to tell Remin things like this more often. Anosukinom’s smile was filled with joy as he turned to Remin. “Prince Anoremin, why have you chosen this man?” “The gods brought him into my life,” Remin said. “As soon as he was a part of my life, I knew that he belonged there. Tano makes me a better man, a better priest, and a better ruler. When I decided to date, I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted in a man, a companion, a husband. In all of the things I had imagined, I never thought that there could be someone who fit me so completely. He’s enthusiastic about my role as royal high priest without his own political ambition, and not just tolerates but understands the time and dedication the role entails. He not only shares my passion for food but makes the most delicious meals I’ve ever eaten, and understands my appetite enough to cook me a whole hen.” Tano laughed at the truth of it. “He’s caring and nurturing and giving, not just to me, but to everyone. I never thought that I’d find someone whose libido matches my own. I am forever indebted to Ilanosa for granting me this gift, this husband. I love Tano greatly, I want to spend my life making him happy, and I trust that we are happier, better people together than apart.” As Anosukinom began to pray, King Xio Voe’s hand touched Tano’s forehead. Something about the touch made Tano close his eyes, and he prayed along with the sound of Anosukinom’s resonant, regal voice. As Xio Voe’s hand lifted to settle on Remin’s forehead, Tano’s eyes opened, and the sight of the bright day,

the colorful crowd, the magnificent stadium, the fluttering rainbow of Anosukinom’s hair, seemed too beautiful to be real. A priest stepped up, joining them on the platform, bearing a silver plate with a squat, black candle. Hope fluttering in his chest, Tano accepted the white candle King Xio Voe offered to him. “Anoha Ilanosa,” Remin whispered, and the two white candles lit. “Anoha Ilanosa,” Tano repeated faithfully. Moving in synchronization with Remin, he touched his lit wick to the black candle’s wick. Together, they lit the black candle. Handing his white candle back to the king, Tano wrapped his arm around Remin. “I love you,” he whispered, staring at the black candle, hoping, praying, waiting. “I love you,” Remin whispered back. And there it was. White wax. “We’re going to fuck all night,” Remin whispered. Yes. Yes, they were. “And all day tomorrow,” he whispered back. “White wax,” Anosukinom announced to the crowd, lightly kicking Remin’s ankle. “As black turns to white in the heat of the flame, so shall Naritano and Anoremin, two, become one, a unit, in this union. With the blessing of the gods, in the eyes of the government, you are married, Naritano Pitok, Prince Anoremin. We recognize your union. May you prosper together.” Making the sign to the gods, he added, “With the authority that the gods have placed in me, Anosukinom Mutotanosa Situkabulanin Elanilanulanori Banotuda Kudorin A Rituliti, I declare you wed.” “It is so,” everyone agreed, and Tano hugged Remin, happily muttering, “It is so, it is so, it is so,” as Remin squeezed him close. “Thank you all for sharing in our joy on this special day,” Anosukinom continued. “You are welcome to partake in the refreshments served on the lawn. Please enjoy the entertainments offered by King Xio Voe, Queen Anikira, and myself as we celebrate of our happiness in this union. Anoha Ilanosa!” The cry went up. “Anoha Ilanosa!” “Anoha Ilanosa,” Remin was whispering, “anoha Ilanosa,” and Tano was kissing him, loving his mouth, moaning at the stroke of his tongue. They were married. Remin could feel the quick energy of love and happiness from the stadium full of cheering people, from his family; he could feel so much

love from Tano, and the swell of love in his own heart. Affection washed over him and joy flowed through him, making him giddy. He laughed as he kissed his husband, his husband, and Tano laughed, too, kissing him back with glee. Love was blooming in Remin’s soul and sex was steaming across Remin’s skin. He loved Tano, he could feel love glowing around him as brightly as the sun. Oh, gods above, yes, he could feel Tano against him, Tano hard against him, the nudge of Tano’s stiffening arousal, yes. Their joyful kiss was filled with lust as Tano gripped Remin’s hips, keeping their bodies together, and Remin gathered a fistful of Tano’s hair, fucking his tongue into Tano’s hungry mouth. The press of Tano’s thigh between his legs and the nudge of Tano’s hips created the perfect friction, the perfect excuse; the head of his erection was pushing against his underwear, the fabric uncomfortably tight. Panting his name in between deep, biting kisses, Tano ran quick, possessive hands over his back, over his body, gripping him, pulling on him. He arched and undulated with the slide of Tano’s hands, twisting to encourage Tano’s attention to stray, wanting to feel Tano’s hands everywhere, all over him, on his body, on his skin. Skin, yes, his skin, he had on too much clothing, any clothing was too much, why were they still dressed? Fuck, they had to get out of there, out of the crowd, out of the stadium, out of the public eye, out of their minimal clothes. He could take Tano’s hand and run, but he’d get no more than a foot; this crowd was here for them, they’d be stopped by everyone wanting to offer congratulations, he was the center of attention and particularly recognizable. Something was tugging at him, a hand on his elbow, but he recognized the rough grip as Desin’s, and he ignored it, because whatever Desin wanted couldn’t possibly be as important as the way Tano was kissing him, the way Tano was rubbing against him. Remin was about a second away from yanking his skirt up so that he could shove his dick against Tano’s body, ripping Tano’s loincloth away so that he could get at that delicious dick. Remin’s heart was racing, he was shaking with lust, and all he could think about was fucking Tano. Fuck, they could fuck now, he had to fuck now, every fantasy he’d had about Tano tumbled through his mind and Remin needed to fuck right now. Someone took his hand and tugged on his arm, but he jerked his hand away and gripped the cloth at Tano’s hips to pull - - ow, ow, ow! Wincing, Remin broke away from Tano’s kiss to shove Selorin’s hand away, touching at his ear, thanking the gods that Selorin hadn’t drawn blood. “We’re trying to get you out of here,” Selorin said. “Come on, hurry.” Out. Praise the gods. The crowd was seconds from converging on the platform, but belas, a long row of belas clad in silver and black, lined the strip of carpet

leading to the tunnel. The family’s belas, Kudorin’s belas, belas it was a crime to touch, so there was a bubble of personal space around each one, keeping the carpet clear, leaving an escape route open. “Can we go?” Tano asked hastily. “If your duties-” “Fuck first,” Remin said. “Duties second.” Gripping Tano’s hand, he nodded at Selorin, starting forward. It happened so quickly and neatly that Remin marveled at the level of coordination. Desin went first, Selorin grabbing Remin’s free hand and hustling him along behind Desin’s broad back, Tano hurrying on Remin’s heels. The belas stayed in place until the last second, when they stepped aside to make room for the short procession, guaranteeing a clear path. When they reached the tunnel, Desin shoved Remin forward with a breathless laugh. “Go, go.” “Get to the palace first,” Selorin instructed, taking Remin’s crown. “Don’t fuck in the tunnel.” “We love you, we love you,” Rini said, hugging them in a bouncy, haphazard fashion. “Congratulations, go have fun!” Kissing Rini’s cheek, Remin said, “We love you, too,” and he would’ve stayed to thank them, but, sex. Already hurrying forward, he pulled Tano along, and Tano tossed back, “Thank you!” for him as he raced through the tunnel. Sex, Tano, sex, only Remin’s strict self-discipline kept him from yanking Tano close and fucking him against the wall. Finally, they made it to their apartment, to privacy. Turning abruptly, Remin closed the door and pushed Tano up against it, and Tano was right there with him, pulling him in and meeting him for a long, messy kiss. He could feel Tano’s hand on him, the glorious cup and press of Tano’s hand between his thighs, and he practically chewed on Tano in his excitement, letting out a sound of agonized triumph. A hand on his dick, another man’s hand on him, it had been years and now someone was finally touching him, Tano was touching him, he was going to come and that was okay because Tano could just do it again, this was happening now and this would happen again and he could have this whenever he wanted now, any time, every day, several times every day, and the luxury of sex on demand had never seemed more miraculous. “Gods above, I have to taste you,” Tano whispered, and dropped to his knees. Fuck, “I love you,” Remin said in a very unsteady voice, combing his fingers through Tano’s thick, black hair as Tano raised his skirt and hastily pulled down his underwear. If this were the first reveal, Tano’s expression of lusting awe and

admiring appreciation would’ve certainly been warranted, but Tano had already seen everything countless times and still stared at him like that, and, oh gods above he was in Tano’s mouth, Tano didn’t waste any time, gods above, Tano’s mouth, Remin felt like he’d never known anything so extraordinarily exquisite, fuck, yes. Gripping Tano’s hair in one hand and holding his skirt out of the way in the other, Remin stared downward, watching his dick disappear between Tano’s reddened lips, and he’d seen Tano do this a hundred times but never to him, never to his erection, he’d never felt it like this, never felt the sucking pull of Tano’s mouth, never thrust into the plush ring of Tano’s lips, never, fuck, he’d just gone in and he was already coming, already helpless against the force of climax, already moaning incoherently and writhing desperately and coming in Tano’s wet, seductive mouth. It felt amazing. Tano’s blissful moan sounded as happy with the situation as Remin felt. He’d finally felt Tano’s hands on him and come in Tano’s mouth, he finally had open access to the kind of sex life he’d craved, and he could indulge in this whenever he wanted. He’d just had a taste and there was nothing to stop him from coming back for more and more and more. Life was beautiful and love was amazing and Tano was a godsend. “I want to feel your mouth on me every day of my life,” Remin said, moaning it, stroking Tano’s hair, Tano’s cheekbones. Tano backed off of his dick, nuzzling his thigh, sighing against his groin. “Ungh, yes, at least that often.” Tano’s hands were rubbing his thighs, cupping his balls, squeezing his ass, and it felt amazing, felt fantastic. They could do this now, this and so much more, they could do whatever they wanted, as much of it as they liked. “You came in my mouth, anoha, I love how you feel, how you taste, I want so much more of it.” Mouth, yes, “Come in my mouth,” Remin said, sinking to his knees. He wanted it, he couldn’t wait for it; Tano was kissing him now, and the thrust of Tano’s tongue was a perfect mimic of what he so badly craved. While Tano’s tongue was busy in his mouth, he pulled on the fabric around Tano’s waist until something gave way and the lower half of Tano’s outfit came apart in his hands. Shoving the soft, gauzy fabric aside, he pushed Tano back into a comfortable sprawl across the floor. Remin’s gaze shot over Tano’s long, athletic body, zeroing in on that sexy, irresistible dick. He’d never been able to stay from it before, and he didn’t have to struggle with his desires anymore. Dropping forward, bracing himself on one hand, Remin reached for Tano’s erection, mouth already opening as he leaned in.

The first lick over Tano’s plush dickhead was everything Remin had dreamt that it would be. The satiny skin, the masculine taste, Tano’s echoing groan of uninhibited appreciation, it all brought vivid reality to what had long been only a memory, a fantasy. Here, now, with Tano, this was real, and with a jolt of gratification, Remin moaned, opening his throat and sliding all the way down. Burying his nose in the tidy black nest of Tano’s pubic hair, he groaned in satisfaction around Tano’s erection, thrilled to have this desperate yearning finally fulfilled. Unh, mmm, yes, it was so good to have a dick in his mouth again, so good to taste Tano like this, so good to hear Tano’s rising, pleasure-hungry cries, so good to feel Tano’s hips twitch and roll as Tano tried to push deeper down his throat. Feeling a deep, delicious ache of satisfied longing and steamy arousal, Remin twisted his tongue and bobbed his head, finally using his longretired technique to bring pleasure to his Tano, his beloved husband. There were so very many things he needed to do to Tano, that he needed Tano to do to him. He was glad that they’d have a lifetime together; there was a good chance they might have time to experience everything he wanted to try. If they hurried. Remin was amazing. So skilled, so bold, so erotic. Tano had seen Remin fellate dildos, so he was well aware of Remin’s enthusiasm for dick, and his imagination had contributed quite a bit, but the feel of Remin’s talented mouth on his own dick was an unbelievable pleasure. Tano stared down in rapt fascination at Remin’s beautiful face and sensuous red lips, groaning in blissful disbelief as Remin made him come again, Remin’s voracious mouth practically sucking out the cum before it had a chance to squirt. While Tano was still catching his breath, Remin let Tano’s dick drop from his lips, looking up with a triumphant smile and tossing his hair. “Mmm. I needed that.” With a lithe, pleased shimmy, Remin stood, and Tano moaned with excitement, tugging him in and licking into his mouth, wanting to express love and gratitude for Remin’s sexy, clever, sucking mouth. Remin was gripping him and making soft, impatient noises and turning him on. He wanted to get it up again so that he could slide his erection down Remin’s throat again, because that was very obviously an activity they both enjoyed, but Remin was already conveniently and wonderfully hard, and Tano stroked that sexy, silky dick, moaning into Remin’s mouth and shifting comfortably as Remin’s arms coiled around him. With a light tug on Remin’s dick, Tano walked backwards, leading Remin to the bedroom. Oh, aahhh, he loved the way it filled his palm. “I can’t wait to have this sexy beast inside of me.”

Remin’s lusty, appreciative growl pushed Tano down onto the bed and he landed against the pillows, dragging Remin down against himself, moaning at the sensual slide of Remin’s body over his. He didn’t know where Remin had found oil, but he took it quickly from Remin’s hand, pouring it into his palm and smoothing it down the length of Remin’s erection. “Rrr, ah, Tano,” Remin panted, and the way Remin pushed his thighs farther apart was familiar but the way Remin’s slick fingers skimmed back behind his balls was so new and so shockingly good that Tano gasped, jerking suddenly as if he’d just been prodded with a hot poker. Remin was, fuck, wasting no time, no time at all, sliding those fingers inside of him, gods above, this was it, this was finally it, he could feel Remin’s fingers inside him and it was the most irrationally glorious thing he’d ever felt. “Oh, oh, Remin,” gods above, he couldn’t hold still, he was gasping and squirming all over the bed, “ah, aahhh, Rrrr-e-e-emin, oh, anoha, fuck!” Remin’s fingers were probing and flicking and opening him like he was some musical instrument Remin had mastered long ago, like he was some familiar toy Remin could manipulate by rote, like he was some exotic new terrain Remin planned to map and memorize by touch. Ecstasy was burning between his legs and twisting through his chest and radiating out somewhere between his toes and he could feel it pulsing in the top of his head, his whole body was alive with it, every inch of him tied in to the spectacular twitch of Remin’s fingers. When Remin’s fingers slithered out of him, he wondered if he’d forgotten to explain that being fingered like that had opened up a whole new plane of ecstasy and he was going to need to spend the next few decades of his life there. Then the way Remin was climbing over him and pushing his knees back caught his attention and he remembered something else Remin could use to penetrate him, and if the magic manipulations of Remin’s clever fingers felt that amazing, what might the deep thrust of Remin’s dick be like? The idea scorched most of Tano’s brain into temporary uselessness, and all that he could think of was what tumbled out of his mouth: “Yes, fuck me, Remin, put it in, fuck me, now.” He was pulling and Remin was pushing and their hips worked together and it was going in and ohyes godsabove fuck fuck fuck yes “Ah! Ah! Oh, Remin, ooonnnahh!” “Unngh, anoha, anoha, ah!” With a wild cry, Remin slammed all the way in, and the sharp jolt of pleasure almost set Tano on fire. “Oh, unh, oh!” Remin was already thrusting, already rocking into him, and Tano didn’t know how to get used to this, didn’t want to get used to this, how was Remin doing this to him? Groaning as pleasure spiked through him on every fierce plunge, Tano let out a ragged gasp of thrilled disbelief as Remin shifted angles and sank in even deeper. So thick, so full, so, “Ah, nnn, ahh,” Remin was

fucking him so hard. It never let up, Remin didn’t pause for an instant, thrusting and rutting and fucking, pounding into him, slamming him with all of the excitement and lust and energy Remin had built up over the years. So wild and so erotic and so, so good. Wanting to feel more of Remin’s power and passion, Tano slid his hands down Remin’s back, palming Remin’s ass, moaning at the sensual glide and erotic delight of Remin’s hard, muscular body and that exotically smooth skin. “You, ah, feel, unh, like perfection, unh, Tano.” Remin leaned over him, and they’d been like this before, Remin on top of him, so beautiful and aroused and passionate, the most primal of lusts burning in Remin’s golden eyes, Remin’s voice thick with pleasure and desire, but Remin was inside him this time, penetrating him, fucking him, and the fire between them had never thrived like this. As incredible as finally, finally being with Remin like this was for Tano, it was even better, even hotter and more exciting, more of a turn on and more important, to know that he was making Remin feel so good, giving something that Remin had gone without for so long, something they’d both needed. “Ah, oh, Tano.” Remin’s hips never broke rhythm, pumping into him as if this were what they’d been made for. “Anoha, anoha, this is what I wanted.” Yes, yes, “So good, you’re so, ah!” Remin’s hips were rolling and popping, and that had always felt terrific through a pillow, but there were no pillows between them now, Remin was inside him, and it felt amazingly good, it was setting off all sorts of snapping, searing bursts of pleasure, it was like Remin’s erection had access to hidden pockets of ecstasy no one else had ever found. “H-h-how, oh, Rrrremin, you, you’re going to, oh, anoha, I’m going to come.” They’d just gotten started but he couldn’t take it, he was already halfway over the edge, and he started jacking his dick, groaning in happy desperation as a fresh spark of pleasure skittered through his body. Yanking Tano roughly against his groin, Remin kept going, hips rocking and fucking, stroking impossibly deep at the same steady pace. “Unh, yeah, Tano, let me see it, let me watch you come.” Gods above, the lust dripping from that sexy voice made Tano shiver, his back arching as Remin drove into him over and over again. “I want to see you, come for me, come all over yourself with my dick up your ass, I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard.” Gripping Tano’s hips, Remin thrust harder, slamming in on each stroke. “Oh, oh! Ah! Just like that, Remin, please!” This was it, this was going to be the end of it, it was out of his control now. Tano drank in the sight of his beautiful, sexy, muscular Remin, gleaming with sweat, face flushed from sex; it was all there in Remin’s expression, the burning passion, the ravenous desire, and Tano could see at a glance, if he hadn’t already felt it in every thrust, that Remin was

loving every minute of ravishing Tano’s very willing body. Yes, yes, “Remin,” Tano’s whole body was singing with pleasure, his fist pumping, his chest heaving. Remin was fucking him hard, quickly, driving in fast, forcing orgasm into him through sheer determination, a powerful orgasm that, fuck, oh! Ecstasy crashed over him, spurts of thick cum splashing onto his chest, and all he could say was, “Yes, yes, yes, Remin, yes!” “Oh. Oh. Tano.” Remin sounded a little awed, himself, and Tano guessed that Remin liked what he saw. Remin was still thrusting, still pulling Tano onto his dick, and Tano’s still sensitive, post-orgasmic body loved it. “I want you to come, too.” Tano planted his feet on the bed and started writhing, working his hips, rocking his ass against Remin’s dick. His voice filled with desire as he thought about how much he wanted it. “I’ve waited so long for you to come inside me. I want you to come with your dick buried deep in my ass, I can tell you’re close, come for me, fill me up.” “Fuck, ah, Tano.” Remin spread himself over Tano, buried his face in Tano’s neck, gripped Tano’s ass in both hands, and came, a hard thrust on each spurt, breathing a loud, shuddering moan next to Tano’s ear. “Oh gods above, I needed that.” Yes. He knew how much Remin had needed that, but it hadn’t been only Remin. “We both needed that.” A soft, relieved moan. “Anoha.” Remin’s head lifted, and Remin’s face was flushed, and Remin’s eyes sparkled brilliant gold, and Remin’s smile could’ve lit the sun. “We need each other.” “We have each other,” Tano whispered, heart singing, and kissed him. Taking a moment to catch up with Bade, Orinakin found him in a corner with Vade and Talin. “You’re not circulating,” Orinakin noted, stealing a kiss from Bade and a sip of Talin’s drink. “I was,” Bade protested. “I-” “I know,” Orinakin said, laughing, touching his cheek. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” “They’re not coming back, are they?” Vade asked. “Remin and Tano.” Talin shrugged. “Maybe not.” “Remin has a lot of missed opportunities to make up for,” Orinakin acknowledged. “And I don’t think that Tano’s in any hurry to roll out of Remin’s bed.” Bade blushed a little at that, smiling, and Orinakin enjoyed a little shimmer

of Bade’s amusement and sexual interest. “They might make an appearance later, to be polite.” “Now, seriously,” Vade said. “What in the world is with those outfits? Bade keeps saying that they weren’t meant to be scandalous.” “They’re traditional,” Orinakin said. “Traditional for a - - a bela,” Vade said, hastily lowering his voice. Judging from that stammer and his fierce blush, he’d almost said “whore.” Talin shrugged again, reaching out idly and adjusting the hang of Vade’s necklace against his chest. “Unlike some other people, we’re not ashamed of our sex workers. It’s better to treat them like normal, valuable members of society than like shameful pariahs, isn’t it?” “Or you could just not have them,” Vade pointed out. Talin snorted, a smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. “But then you wouldn’t enjoy your visits here nearly as much, would you?” Drawing himself up, Vade wrapped an arm around Bade’s waist. “I come here to visit my beloved, treasured brother,” he announced with great dignity. He frowned at Bade, hesitating. “What’s your name again?” It took a while, but after some more bouncing and rutting and spurting, Remin’s fever of need started to settle into an eager hum. He and Tano finally got around to stripping all of the clinging bits of their outfits away, leaving a pile of jewels on the bedside table. The painted prayers were smeared now, from the grind and slide of their sweaty bodies moving against each other. Remin could breathe without feeling a desperate, clawing ache of must fuck must fuck must fuck now in his chest, and Tano could kiss him without yanking him closer like the world would collapse if their bodies didn’t occupy the same space, so they slowed down a little, enjoying the simple luxury of touching and teasing without restrictions. Remin had known that Tano was an enthusiastic partner, responsive and uninhibited and always eager for more. He’d expected to find great erotic pleasure with Tano; they were obviously very sexually compatible. But Tano had still managed to take him by surprise. Seeing Tano with other men had given him a lot of insight into Tano’s sexual behavior, but he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of Tano’s passion, the voracity of Tano’s need, the way lust and pleasure rolled from Tano in wanton excess. There was never a moment of hesitation, never uncertainty or awkwardness; Tano was always ready for Remin, loving it, eager for more, pushing and pulling, giving and taking, assertive about Remin’s

pleasure and about his own. When Remin had touched him from the inside for the first time, opening him up, Tano had responded as if Ilanosa had personally visited a new kind of ecstasy upon Tano’s body. Seeing Tano like that, not just aroused or enjoying it but writhing and expanding and welcoming and demanding - - not just seeing Tano like that but doing that to Tano, being the one to touch Tano like that and awaken Tano to ecstasy like that, had been powerful for Remin. That was part of the magnificence of sex. Giving that to someone, sharing that with someone. And Tano was ripe for it. Sex. Remin was having sex again. Having a lot of very rewarding, exhilarating sex with his favorite partner in the world. Tano gave him everything that he’d needed and so much more. They fit their bodies together again and again, seeking their own pleasure, pursuing each other’s ecstasy, laughing and moaning and licking up cum with joyful tongues. Being fucked was, gods above, being fucked was spectacular. Every time Remin’s dick felt the slightest inclination to get hard, he started charting a course for Tano’s mouth or ass, and every time he encountered the first rising stiffness of Tano’s new arousal, he began to make plans for that wonderful length of masculinity. He loved sucking it down and moaning his heart out around that sexy erection, but whenever Tano buried it in his ass, he felt an intense sense of vibrancy, every inch of him awakening urgently to pleasure, as if he were more truly alive than he had been in years. He couldn’t remember being fucked making him come so vigorously, marvelously hard before, not every time, not so easily. Tano could get him off with the ease of a well-trained professional, and knowing that only excited him further. He loved having a partner - - a husband! - - who could deliver such devastating, rapturous pleasure so well. He started to tell Tano that, but Tano’s dick was down his throat, so his muffled gurgling of, “I love you, I love you so much,” didn’t sound anything like words. But Tano stroked his hair and spilled cum over his tongue and moaned, “Oh, Remin, I love you, too,” so he knew that Tano understood. With a seductive, appreciative chuckle in his ear, Remin pushed him back against the headboard, climbing on top. Flicking his tongue over Remin’s nipple, Tano circled Remin’s asshole with his fingers. Remin was already slick, and while Tano’s nudged him open, Remin guided Tano’s erection into place. At the first kiss of Remin’s heat, Tano thrust upward, groaning in triumph and jubilation, seeking the erotic pleasure he always found with Remin. Remin rocked on him slowly, and the sensual heat of Remin’s body, the exquisite tightness, it was as if Remin’s body were made of bliss. It was a slow, easy fuck, and Tano took the

time to kiss and caress and tease. Remin felt like his personal erotic paradise, and he wanted to make it last. “Mmm, Tano.” Remin held onto his back, fingers rubbing and sweeping over his skin. “I’m so, oh, unh, so blessed, oh, fuck, yes.” The way Remin rose and sank over his erection created a sweet, natural rhythm he could’ve set his heart to. “Me, too,” he murmured, taking Remin’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss, nuzzling against Remin’s neck before licking a path to Remin’s ear. Remin’s hand slid to the back of Tano’s head, encouraging him. He enjoyed Remin riding him for a little while longer, Remin’s hips moving in a graceful up and down motion, their bodies rubbing together, and he soaked up the rich eroticism of Remin’s pleasure-saturated sighs and moans. “Fuck me, Teritano, fuck me deep.” The nickname took Tano by surprise, and a snatch of bubbling laughter escaped him. But that was the role he’d accepted, wasn’t it? It was a privilege to be set as Remin’s mating partner, and he was more than happy - - so much more than merely happy - - to see to Remin’s sexual needs. “Yes, my stud,” he said with a smile, enjoying the sound of Remin’s returning laughter. When Remin’s breathing became louder and Remin’s nails started to dig into his skin, he shifted, easing forward. As his hands slid up Remin’s sides, Remin sank back, draped lithely across the rumpled bedclothes. Caressing Remin’s beautiful, sleek body, Tano pumped into him steadily, watching his gold-dipped lashes flutter. Remin’s hands dragged over Tano’s thighs, gripping and pulling, as Remin’s breath caught on a low, reverberating moan. “Anoha Ilanosa,” Remin panted, and Tano’s hand rubbed over Remin’s ribcage. “Anoha Ilanosa, unh, Tano, I needed this, ah, I needed this.” “I know, I know,” Tano said softly, because he did. He pulled out for a moment, and maybe Remin had already learned the press of his hands and what his guiding touch meant, or maybe Remin just wanted what he wanted, but Remin rolled over with an impossibly seductive twist, flipping golden hair, offering him an expanse of slender, muscular, flawless back and that perky, perfect ass. As Tano slid back inside, Remin moaned, propped up on his forearms, head dropping forward. Tano kissed Remin’s bare shoulder, rubbing his body against Remin’s smooth skin, and Remin moaned again, twitching restlessly, needfully beneath him. “I know,” Tano whispered again, thrusting in a little harder. Remin made a low, choked, grateful sound and rocked back against him, meeting the forward push of his hips. “I’ve got it, I’ll take care of you,” Tano promised, picking up speed.

That grateful sound was louder and happier now, and Tano stroked Remin’s smooth, heated skin, enchanted by the lithe twist and arch of Remin’s body. He’d never seen anyone move so gracefully, so naturally, in such a blatantly sexual manner, and for Remin to do it while his dick was plunging merrily into Remin’s ass was a dazzling sight. Remin’s hand reached back, latching onto Tano’s thigh, and Tano slid a hand over Remin’s taut, bare stomach, finding the rigid length of Remin’s erection. It always looked so big, and tonight he could confirm that it felt big, too, especially when he and Remin were both avidly trying to make it fit into one of his orifices. Stroking that hard shaft, he sucked at the back of Remin’s neck, licking up the sheen of Remin’s sweat, and Remin moaned exuberantly, grinding back into him. “Nnn, gods above, fuck me,” Remin panted. His voice was an entrancing tool of seduction and manipulation, trapping Tano’s heart and caressing Tano’s dick. As Remin twisted the sheets in his hands, he rocked himself forward against Tano’s hand and back against Tano’s dick. “Ahhh, hhhnn, Tano, like that, like, oh, unh!” Remin’s erection felt incredible in his hand, hard and silky, and his fingers played happily over the hot, taut, lengthy shaft. “Remin.” His voice was shaky and breathy and rough, and he buried his nose in Remin’s hair. Fuck, so hot, so tight, how could Remin’s ass feel so impossibly good? “I love fucking you, I’m going to fuck you all night, I’m going to give you as much as you can take.” Remin’s groan was a low stretch of ecstasy. “Yes, gods above, keep going.”

Part 289 After the reception came a huge, formal dinner, and then a ball. Kudorin wanted to perch on the ceiling and watch. Family, friends, allies, loved ones, the ballroom was crowded with happiness and celebration, people dancing gracefully to the swell of music, people flirting and laughing and hugging and enjoying each other. To the casual observer, it would look like a party. Simply a celebration. But Kudorin saw it from every angle, on every level. He saw the manipulations, the machinations, the way power rippled through the crowd. He saw interpersonal relationships change and grow. He saw people observing each other, learning each other, loving each other. The heads of state were busy preening, pulling strings, putting themselves on display. While everyone’s attention was on them, their peons worked the crowd, conspiring together, campaigning furiously on their behalf. For every mild conversation a queen had, her assistants had a dozen more. None were busier than Orinakin’s purple-clad assistants who expertly kept the whole affair running

smoothly and efficiently. Orinakin, of course, hardworking and tireless, moved through the ballroom in complex patterns, greeting and flattering, making introductions, stimulating conversation, charming even the most begrudging curmudgeon. Orinakin had a way of making even a moment of small talk meaningful and memorable. While Orinakin worked his particular magic, the Jacaceans were, as usual, wasting no time. The general population of Jacacean guests kept trying to corner Kudorin’s brothers for conversation; while other guests chatted about art and music and mutual friends, the Jacaceans wanted to talk about math and science and new technological advancements and the possibilities of new methods in engineering. There were even a few Jacacean psychologists and sociologists seeking out conversation with Rini, wanting to discuss social bonding and theories of teamwork and the impact of gifts on relationships. Xio Voe and Emperor Xio Sei, while typically at different ends of the ballroom, were both surrounded by people begging an audience. Xio Sei stood with Xio Heijein and a couple of advisors; Xio Voe was surrounded by secretaries and undersecretaries, issuing most of his remarks to Sulano, who frantically sent people skittering across the ballroom on various errands. Orinakin and Xio Voe placed tremendous pressure on themselves; Sulano had to live up to his own expectations and to Xio Voe’s standards, and Kudorin decided to speak with Xio Voe about sending Sulano off on a vacation. No one should be exposed so relentlessly to Xio Voe’s demands without a rejuvenating break once in a while. Even when Xio Voe was in Seijaces, he left Sulano with an impossible list of tasks and returned expecting to see them completed. Xio Voe was fair, in that he didn’t ask more of other people than he was willing or able to do himself; it was just that Xio Voe was capable of more than they were. As Xio Voe spoke with guests in the ballroom, he made the most of every conversation. He hinted and insinuated and dropped ideas into people’s ears; he was arrogant and intimidating and scheming and cold as ice. He was a terrifying man, imposing, dangerous, a shameless mastermind, full of cunning and finesse. He selected every word for its desired effect on his listener. He played people against each other, directing people towards each other, dismissing concerns here, planting seeds of doubt there. He accomplished as much in a busy ballroom as he might have at a political conference. When he looked into people’s eyes with those frigid and emotionless eyes and spoke his delicately chosen, expertly subtle words in that frighteningly deep voice, they knew in their hearts that they had no choice but to do whatever he wanted. He seemed fully capable of dispatching assassins with the most casual ease. Xio Voe reeked of power and struck fear into the deepest crevices of human souls with a glance. No

one could hope to outsmart him, to outmaneuver him, to get a step ahead. He had the strength of the imperial military at his disposal, he had untold wealth, and he was a brilliant strategist. Who was going to hold him in check, the Emperor? The idea was laughable. Anosukinom? Sometimes as people walked away from Xio Voe, they snuck hopeful or worried or guilty glances in Kudorin’s direction, wondering what he knew and what he’d do about it. Naturally, Kudorin knew everything. He knew just what Xio Voe was up to. He knew exactly who was joining in out of desperation, who was gleefully colluding, and who was trying to escape intact. What he did with that information, well, that was up to him. No one but his gods ever held Anosukinom in check. Kudorin took in the ballroom again, brushing aside politics, viewing everyone on a more familial level. It was a joy to see so many branches of the family together at once. Kudorin was pleased with the mingling of loved ones. Xio Wae and Anosadum were spending a lot of time together; Anosadum’s wisdom and serenity drew Xio Wae in, and Anosadum appreciated Xio Wae’s poise and humor. It pained Anosadum, Kudorin knew, to see such an accomplished young woman grow up without the nurturing and affection of fond parents, and Anosadum tried to extend love to Xio Wae in subtle ways that wouldn’t be seen as overreaching. Bade’s marriage to Orinakin had brought unprecedented attention to Nosupolis. Now another marriage tied Nosupolis to the Jacacean Empire as well, and Mindo benefited greatly from the association. It was a unique position for a country to be so positively associated with both Orina Anoris and the Eternal Empire without creating disastrous political conflict, but Mindo was being exceedingly careful to make the most of his precarious position without endangering himself, and Emperor Sei was biding his time. Kudorin was proud of Mindo for being smart and cautious, and Tiko was learning a great deal from the experience. The King of Granete, meanwhile, was beside himself with envy. Xio Voe liked the Nosupolin royal family and enjoyed taking the opportunity to appear gracious so that he could confound his enemies, so he extended great hospitality to Bade’s family, exhibiting a personal interest in them quite openly. He wasn’t exactly exuberant, but coming from Xio Voe, any mild hint was as good as a public declaration. What caught Mindo’s attention most keenly that evening was Bade. After an extensive education and a wealth of experience at Orinakin’s side, Bade was as good as a well-connected diplomat. He had a friendly relationship with a wide variety of heads of state, and he moved about the ballroom like a charming host, taking the time to greet people, sharing jokes and smiles and pleasant

conversation. He was in demand, and the busier Orinakin became, the more people turned to Bade, wanting to ingratiate themselves somewhere. Bade took advantage of the opportunity; having his father close at hand, he made sure to introduce people to his father, to recommend his father’s opinion on any number of issues, to point people in Mindo’s direction. Mindo had never been more popular in his life, and he found himself being sought out by people who only a few years ago wouldn’t have remembered his name on a bet. It was one thing for Bade to write letters home and talk to his parents about all of the people he’d met and all of the adventures he’d had, but Kudorin was glad that Mindo and Wirra could watch Bade for themselves. It was rewarding for them to see him in action, and Kudorin basked in the warm glow of their honest pride. All three of their sons had grown into wonderful young men, and Kudorin was glad that the family could enjoy this time together. Mindo and Wirra weren’t the only parents watching their son with interest. Emperor Sei and Empress Heijein tracked Xio Voe closely. They also tracked Kudorin. Since Kudorin never left Orina Anoris, these rare visits were Xio Voe’s parents’ only opportunities to see Xio Voe and Kudorin’s dynamic in person, and they were understandably interested in how Xio Voe and Kudorin interacted. Interested, as well, in the public’s perception of those interactions. They had spies, of course, but this visit was a chance to see it for themselves. Kudorin didn’t care what Xio Voe’s parents thought of his cialex ways, but he did care about Xio Voe, deeply, and he was sensitive to Xio Voe’s desire to behave in ways the Emperor and Empress found appropriate. If Kudorin flexed his own control over Xio Voe and got Xio Voe to make out with him in public, he’d prove that Xio Voe would put him first, would choose him over them, but that wasn’t a victory, that was shameful. He didn’t want to hurt or embarrass Xio Voe just to prove a point; he also didn’t want to hurt or embarrass Xio Voe’s parents. He wasn’t going to wear shoes or eat with a fork just to meet their standards of behavior, but he wasn’t going to coax Xio Voe into rebelling against their standards, either. They’d been horrible, damaging parents, but they genuinely loved Xio Voe and had done their terribly misguided best to rear him. Whatever Kudorin’s opinion of them as rulers, he knew that as parents they loved Xio Voe immensely, and that Xio Voe found it important not to disappoint them. So he abided by the imperial standards he could stomach. When he was struck by the irresistible impulse to kiss Xio Voe and whisper words of love, he funneled his love elsewhere. When he felt unaccountably horny and wanted to fuck, he went to his belas for a quick roll, instead of Xio Voe. When he wanted to snake an arm around Xio Voe’s waist, he let his affection simmer in Xio Voe’s mind, instead. Any time he wanted to, any time he felt like it, he could whisper words

only Xio Voe could hear, in the privacy his divinity afforded him, where disapproving eyes could never see. He’d never love Xio Voe less, or express it less; but while the Emperor visited, out of respect, he’d express it in different ways. The restriction chafed. What made it more bearable was that Xio Voe felt it, too. With his parents in the country, Xio Voe was much more reserved, much more Jacacean, particularly in public. But when they were alone at night, Xio Voe’s tension erupted into intensely passionate lovesex, and he released all of the desire and affection and emotion he’d kept in all day. Under the Emperor’s watchful eye, Xio Voe was rigid and proper and unbending, the consummate Heir. The explosion that led to at night left Kudorin so sexually and emotionally fulfilled with the outpouring of Xio Voe’s romantic and erotic love that Kudorin was enjoying the Emperor’s visit much more than he’d thought that he would. “Ah, unh, Remin, ah, ah.” Each searing thrust rocked Tano’s body as Remin fucked deeply into him, and he drew his knee up higher, inviting Remin closer. Face-to-face, they were panting and moaning and groaning together, and there was something so raw about Remin’s pleasure, something so uninhibited and open in Remin’s face, that Tano couldn’t look away. Remin did most things passionately, intensely, but Tano should have realized that during sex, real sex, Remin fired that passionate intensity up to a fever pitch. The way Remin looked into his eyes, the way Remin’s golden gaze bored into his soul, it was like being emotionally naked. Being seen into so clearly didn’t make Tano feel intimidated or vulnerable. No, he loved Remin, trusted Remin implicitly, and being looked into like this was freeing, exhilarating. He’d had a lot of sex in his life, and the motions were essentially the same, but being fucked by Remin, being opened and entered and seen by Remin, sharing this moment, this experience with Remin, made him feel connected in a whole new way. This must be lovesex. Desin did his hosting duties for a while, then snuck out with Talin and Tiko to meet Sebado in the courtyard. The four of them passed around a couple of bottles of eye-scalding Grintzadiwtchian alcohol and talked about mundane things. Desin made a bet with Tiko and Sebado over how many handkerchiefs Anosanim had cried into during the wedding ceremony, and Tiko won. According to Talin, the correct answer was three: Anosanim’s own, and Ritek’s, and Talin’s. When Tiko asked what he’d won, Sebado suggested a blowjob, and that was only one of many reasons Desin liked Sebado so much. Tiko blushed like he was

flattered and laughed like he was embarrassed and said, “In Nosupolis, it’s customary to win coins, not sexual favors.” Sebado grinned. “I have more sexual favors than coins to give away. I can afford to be more generous with my mouth than with my purse.” Desin handed Sebado the bottle. “Trust me, your generosity is well appreciated.” Appearing out of thin air, Kudorin crouched down in the middle of their relaxed circle. “What are you doing here?” he asked Talin. “You know that Anosanim’s looking for you.” For a moment, that didn’t make sense; how could Talin know that Anosanim was looking for him, when Talin was nowhere near Anosanim and couldn’t possibly guess what Anosanim was doing? But, right, of course; it was Anosanim and Talin, of course Anosanim was wondering where Talin was, of course Talin should know that. “He has Ritek,” Talin said frankly. Which sounded like a good argument to Desin. It was what Anosanim would call “a day for romance,” so Anosanim would want to dance with Ritek and moon over the wedding and have lovesex. “I have Anikira,” Kudorin said. “That doesn’t make Xio Voe completely superfluous.” Talin’s wicked eyebrows quirked. “I’m not Anosanim’s husband.” Tiko shot Desin a look. Desin grinned back, snickering. “You’ve had too much to drink,” Kudorin said patiently, taking the bottle from Desin’s hand. “Stop trying to keep up with Tiko.” “How’s everything going out there?” Desin asked, nudging Kudorin’s ankle with his toes to feel love rush up his leg. “Xio Voe’s mother danced with Tiko’s father,” Kudorin said. “Xio Wae danced with Sanuk. Everyone’s getting along well.” “Empress Heijein danced with my father?” Tiko asked, sitting forward. “Oh,” Kudorin said, and he smiled. “Xio Voe’s inviting your mother to dance. He’s being very formal about it. Your father’s more nervous about it than she is.” Desin laughed. “Is the King of Granete anywhere nearby to see this?” Kudorin winked at Tiko. “It wouldn’t be polite of me to comment on the state of the king’s private jealous rage.” Reaching over, he flicked at Talin’s feet. “Go and see Anosanim, he’s worried about you.” “What is there to be worried about?” Desin asked. “You wandered away from a party, you didn’t fall into the river.”

Sighing, Talin ruffled the massive mane of scarlet hair he’d unpinned from its earlier, elaborate hairstyle. “Anosanim’s waiting for me to have some sort of emotional breakdown in reaction to all of this talk about love and marriage.” Oh, yeah. Desin felt like shit for a second, for being so grossly tactless. Wait, since when did Talin talk about that stuff so openly? Talin had said that so naturally, Desin went ahead and asked, “You’re not going to, are you?” Talin rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Ebutadesin. Other people can enjoy love and happiness and marriage. Remin has a loving husband and I don’t, you have a green tiger and I don’t, Kudorin can raise the sun and I can’t. That’s how life works. What others have doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with me. Somehow, in the face of this shocking truth, I’ll live.” Taking a curious sniff of the bottle, Kudorin sipped. “Oh, wow,” he said in a faint voice, carefully lowering the bottle again. “If I weren’t a deity, I don’t think that I’d have lived through that.” While Sebado burst into laughter, Desin said, “Yeah, it was a gift for Orinakin. Something the army made during the war when they didn’t have access to the usual stuff. Don’t spill it, I think that it kills grass.” “Oh, ooohh, Remin, Remin, yes, ah, ah!” Gasping, Tano pressed his hands against the shower wall, but the mosaic was wet and slippery, and his palms skidded helplessly over the tiles. The mosaic depicted various men scattered around a room enjoying a sexual orgy, and the small man in front of Tano’s face was in the process of disrobing to join the crowd. Unable to resist temptation, Tano flicked his tongue over the tiles, licking the man’s dick. Remin’s sexy, smoky chuckle really turned him on, and Tano loved that about Remin, loved that Remin could already be fucking him and already have him panting with the need to come and still turn him on by laughing. Groaning, Tano braced a forearm across the wall, his other hand reaching back behind his head, fingers tangling in Remin’s wet hair. “Praise the gods,” Remin moaned, licking across his shoulder, sucking at his wet skin. “I can’t get enough of you.” Sinking deep on every thrust, Remin fucked him in steady strokes, a rhythm his entire body yearned for. The searing ecstasy of each thrust was a wild, addictive pleasure, and Tano kept moving with Remin, seeking more of it, making all kinds of desperate, impatient, pleading-demanding noises on the off-beats. Remin had him in hand now, not in a friendly and fondling grip but in a masterful, determined hold. Crying out, Tano tried to be mindful of their slippery

environment, tried not to buck or writhe too much, but, fuck, that “oh oh unh hhh oo ah” felt so good, “oh, oh-oh ooohh mmmhh oh unh unh” felt too good, felt “ah ah ah Remin! Ffffuck-k-k, oh, oh, ah!” As he came in a yowling surge, the shower’s water sparkled before his eyes, shimmering brilliantly like falling stars. Gasping, he slumped forward as Remin filled him again and again, and he was panting and groaning like a wild thing as Remin fucked him with a satisfying thoroughness he’d never known. When they’d finally finished, they got back to showering, washing each other, teasing, enjoying the comfortable simplicity of being together in this free, uninhibited way. Enchanted by the happiness in Remin’s eyes, Tano kissed him, and then they were leaning back against the mosaic, making out, and Tano was hard again, and Remin was kneeling down, and oh, fuck, yes… Remin didn’t want to get dressed up and make small talk with a bunch of people he hardly knew. If he were going to speak with anybody, he wanted to talk to his brothers about Tano, and sex. He’d seen Tano give enthusiastic head before, but he’d never felt it on his own erection until tonight, and it was definitely an experience he wanted to shout about from the rooftops, or at least describe in detail to his brothers. Just thinking about it made him wonder how soon they could get away with escaping back to bed. But they were groomed and dressed and mere yards away from the ballroom. They’d put on more conservative formal attire, not their wedding clothes; Remin wanted to give himself a fighting chance to keep his hands in appropriate places in public. The closer they came to the ballroom, the more people they saw, and Remin greeted guests, blessed Anorians, accepted congratulations. Hand-in-hand, they entered the ballroom to a noisy round of applause. His family rushed them first, crowding around. In the confusion of hugging and kissing and cheerful conversation, Remin was separated from Tano. Parents, cousins, aunts and uncles, Leetesrians, Nosupolins, Remin shared his happiness with everyone, and then Kudorin embraced him and he closed his eyes and felt the world spin. “I love you,” Kudorin whispered, and everything was aglow with golden light, and he felt as if he were turning slowly in a room with no walls, no floor. When he opened his eyes again, everything was just the same as it had been - - precisely the same, everyone caught in the same expressions and the same gestures, as if hardly a second had passed, even though he and Kudorin had hugged for long minutes. Long hours? How much time had he spent in Kudorin’s love?

Oh! A server was at his side! At the sight of the platter of food, Remin’s stomach growled, and he reached out hungrily. Everyone talked about how moving the wedding had been and how interesting their clothing had been and how happy their marriage would be. Before Remin had emptied the first platter, two more had appeared, and he munched steadily as he accepted congratulations. His brothers were clustered around him now, and showed no signs of moving; his parents were with Tano, Anosadum keeping an arm around his shoulders, Sanuk beaming, Sadum dabbing at her eyes. “We love you and we’re so happy for you,” Orinakin said again, hugging him warmly. He hugged Orinakin back and chewed. Food, sex, family, love, had his life ever been more complete? “Now,” Orinakin said, stepping back with a fond smile, “I need you to come and speak with Emperor Sei.” Remin grunted, licking his teeth. He supposed that he could find it within himself to attend to his formal duties, if he could have food and Tano with him. “I want to hear all about it,” Rini said, lowering his voice and glancing in Tano’s direction. “What’s it like?” “Not now,” Desin said, pushing Rini aside. “You’ll tell us later?” he asked Remin with a significant look. Remin permitted himself a smug smile. “I wouldn’t want to make you all feel bad. Jealousy can be a terrible strain on an otherwise healthy relationship.” His brothers burst into laughter; Rini shoved at him with an exasperated, merry cry. Smirking, Remin turned and extended a hand to his husband. “Come, Tano.” “You are an ass,” Desin said, laughing. “You’re going to tell us everything.” Leaving a kiss on Anosadum’s cheek, Tano came right to him, taking his hand and brushing soft, lingering kisses over his cheek, his temple, his ear. Sighing with pleasure, Remin nuzzled him back, then reached for another pastry. With an amused smile, Orinakin touched Tano’s arm. “I need the two of you to come and speak with the Emperor.” “Oh, okay, yes, of course,” Tano said, running a hand down the front of his shirt and smoothing his hair. “Teritano,” Talin said, and Tano grinned at him. “How was it?” “How was it?” Tano repeated. He smiled as everyone eyed him with interest, and then he turned to Remin, gazing into Remin’s eyes with all of the captivation, love, and desire in the world. “It was perfect,” he said, and Anosanim made a

faint, blissful sound. “It was everything that I’d wanted and everything I’d hoped that it could be and more. It wasn’t just the best I’ve ever had, it was the most my soul could ever take.” His voice was soft and he was staring right into Remin’s eyes like there was nothing else in the world. “I love you so much,” he whispered, and Remin kissed him. Selorin watched with interest as Remin invaded Tano’s mouth. As his fingers slid into Remin’s hair, Tano took control for a moment, tipping Remin back slightly and kissing Remin as if they were entirely alone in the room. Moaning, Remin curled his arms around Tano’s shoulders and nipped lightly at Tano’s lips. “Okay,” Orinakin said, smiling politely and slipping a pin from his hair. “Prince Remin, Tano, if you’ll come with me?” Whatever he was doing with the pin, he managed to cover discreetly with the angle of their bodies, but Selorin suspected that he stuck it in a place designed to get Remin’s attention. With a groan of irritation, Remin nudged Tano back, turning a disappointed look on Orinakin. Tano licked his lips and eyed Remin as if waiting for a signal to continue. Tucking the pin back into his hair, Orinakin maintained his polite smile. “Shall we go?” As Orinakin walked Remin and Tano across the ballroom, Desin smirked. “So, this is how it’s going to be from now on?” “Yep,” Talin said, watching them go. Anosanim smiled, fanning himself. “Good.” Vade smiled pleasantly during Anikira’s introduction. The duke was a goodlooking guy and roughly his age. Dark brown skin, black hair, clothes with a lot of complex medallions and buckles. “Ah, Your Grace, it’s very nice to meet you.” “It’s an honor to meet you,” the duke said with an enthusiastic smile, pumping Vade’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about Nosupolis, I’ve been looking forward to an introduction. It’s a shame that we haven’t met already, our paths almost crossed in Seijaces.” Aw, come on! He had on the necklace Rini had given him with his name on it, and he was dressed in black and green, not purple. Were people always and forever going to confuse him with Bade? “I’m so sorry, I think that you’ve mistaken me for Prince Bade, my brother.”

“No, I have met Prince Bade. It is you I wish to see.” A quick flash of a wicked smile. “Ambassador Dillane has told me so much about you.” Oh! Blushing, Vade glanced at Anikira, hoping that she hadn’t understood that reference. She looked perfectly composed, so maybe she didn’t realize. “Yes, the ambassador is a good friend of the family. I hope that you’ll be able to visit Nosupolis someday.” Vade would’ve touched the duke’s arm to get his point across, but he wasn’t sure about doing that right in front of a queen. “I would be happy to welcome you and show you all that my country has to offer.” “You must be busy this evening, with this festive mood,” the duke murmured, shifting closer, and his gaze drifted down to Vade’s mouth. “I will remain in Orikodisata for several more days. Perhaps we could take some time to discuss your country’s charms.” Hearing a soft, breathy sound escape him, Vade bit into his lower lip to keep from really moaning. He’d love to“Prince Vade’s time here in Orina Anoris is entirely taken up with family commitments,” Anikira said sweetly. “Such a shame. You really must pay him a visit in Nosupolis. It’s a picturesque place, with all of those hard, sturdy mountains and round, rolling hills.” The duke lingered for a moment, and then Anikira made some excuse, taking Vade’s arm and pulling him away. Flustered, he was tempted to scowl at her, but truthfully he was grateful. He and his father were in constant negotiations over his sex life, and his father was wary of the sort of trouble Vade might fall into if he had sex with foreigners during such an important, busy, international event as Remin’s wedding. Anikira knew the rules his father had laid down for this visit, outlawing sex with everyone but the belas - - Tiko had actually gone right out and asked her and all of Orinakin’s brothers to keep an eye on him, as if he were some miscreant child! “Cute, wasn’t he?” Anikira asked. Her eyes were sparkling like she wanted to laugh. “Sounds like Dillane’s recommending you to his friends.” Vade didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or appalled. Recommending! Of all things! It wasn’t as if he were some out-of-the-way specialty tailor relying on word of mouth for good business! He wasn’t, great Grengar, putting it that way made it sound absolutely scandalous! But, really, was there another way to put it? That did sort of cut right to the heart of things, didn’t it? And wasn’t it a compliment, truly? Surely Dillane had a surfeit of experience, and if he’d bothered to mention Vade to his friends, that was flattering. Vade could almost picture it, Dillane and the duke in a darkened bedchamber together, relaxing after a fierce rutting, comparing notes on recent partners. “Mmm, I know where you can get a good

ride,” Dillane might say. “You know Prince Orinakin’s husband, Prince Bade? He has a twin, Vade, I’ve been with him a few times. If you’re ever around Nosupolis, give him a try.” Or something like that. Vade had to wonder what it was about him, particularly, that Dillane might have recommended. He kept trying to find out if he gave good head. Everyone he asked said that he did, but he’d just given them head, so of course they were going to be nice about it. And was it good head, or great head? Or just decent? “Here you are!” Rini popped up in front of him, startling him. “What have you been thinking about?” “Prince Rini?” Vade asked, to buy himself time. “What are you thinking about?” Rini repeated, looking curious. “You look fantastic, do you need anything, can I get you a drink?” he asked Anikira. “Anosadum wants to talk to you, I think.” “I’m fine, thank you,” Anikira said. Kissing Rini’s cheek, she pressed Vade’s arm and glided away. “So, what?” Rini asked Vade. “Kudorin told me that you should ask me for advice on what you’re thinking about, but I can’t give you advice if I don’t know what the topic is. Or I could just guess, if you don’t want to tell me, but we’ll be here forever. Without knowing what your worry is, my general advice is to undo some of those laces and show off your chest, and try some of the sausage pastries because they’re really good, and tell your mother that you love her more often, and visit us more because we miss you, and spend more time praying, that never hurts.” Oh, that was the issue? That was nothing! Rini liked watching Vade squirm and blush, though, so he decided to make a big deal out of it just to amuse himself. And if they were going to talk about dick-sucking, he’d really be remiss if he didn’t advise Vade to consult with - - hmm, well, Remin was kind of busy, but… “This instant?” Anosanim asked, fanning himself. He and Ritek had just left the floor after four dances in a row, and he felt absolutely exhilarated! “Now’s good,” Rini said. Glancing at Ritek, he said, “No offense, but I just want Anosanim. It’s kind of a private matter, and you know how Nosupolins are about privacy.” “That’s fine,” Ritek said. “I hope that it’s nothing serious.”

Anosanim sighed in disappointment as Ritek’s arm slid away from around his waist. Well, he certainly couldn’t turn his back on a brother in need, and Vade was so excitable, it was probably best to address the problem immediately, whatever it was. Besides, the ball was beginning to wind down, and he’d already made contact with everyone he’d wanted to speak with. “You’ll take this dance for me?” he asked Talin. “Sure.” Talin smirked just enough to look mischievous. “I’ll try to be as graceful as you.” Anosanim smiled, pleased, as Ritek kissed his cheek, and he gave Talin a quick hug, just because. “Now, what in the world is going on?” he asked as Rini drew him away. What could possibly be wrong that Vade would need to speak with him about, and not anyone else? “Prince Orinakin?” Turning, Orinakin smiled at Tano and, on happy impulse, hugged him. “How are you enjoying the ball?” “It’s great!” Tano’s joy bubbled cheerfully around Orinakin’s head like pleasant intoxication. “Thank you so much for everything, it’s been an amazing night, we’ve loved all of it.” “I’m glad. We’re all so glad for you.” Hugging him again, Orinakin glanced a few yards away to where Remin was talking with someone and still eating steadily, looking more relaxed at a public function than he’d been in years. Servers with heavy platters of food had been circling Remin all night without pause, and Orinakin was sure that had been Tano’s deliberate instruction. “You took such good care of him.” “I hope so,” Tano said earnestly. He took his own glance in Remin’s direction, and when he turned back, the richness of his love was pounding in Orinakin’s chest. “Would it be all right if we go? Is there anyone else we should speak with? We want to,” Tano’s smile was delighted, “leave, but I didn’t want to abandon you if-” “It’s fine,” Orinakin said, amused. “Thank you for checking with me, but we’ve all taken up enough of your attention tonight. Go and take some time with Remin.” “Thank you.” Tano’s excitement kicked in, arousal already heating up. “Good night!” Orinakin watched him zoom right back to Remin’s side. Tano’s arm slid around Remin’s waist as he murmured something into Remin’s ear. Seconds later, they

were disappearing through the crowd, tugging each other along, eager to be alone. “Well, they showed up,” Kudorin said, stepping up beside him. “And they stayed,” Orinakin said. “Longer than I’d expected them to.” “The food helped,” Kudorin said. “It pacified him.” Tano was a genius. “Remin’s in good hands.” Kudorin raised his eyebrows. “Remin’s about to be in good ass. Wow, those two get right to it. I’m glad that Remin’s apartment is the first one in the hallway, or they never would’ve gotten there in time.” He blinked and then grinned, licking his lips. “Excuse me, I-” “Stop watching them,” Orinakin scolded, laughing. “Orinakin,” Kudorin said, patting his shoulder. “A great performance like this is meant to be appreciated.” Selorin brushed his fingers over Bade’s tense lips. Blushing, Bade met his eyes, then glanced around hastily as if looking to see if anyone had noticed. “You were frowning,” Selorin said, as if he needed an excuse to touch Bade. “Who are you looking for?” Bade sighed. “Vade. I don’t see him anywhere. I’m sure that he’s fine, I’d just rather know where he is.” Surveying the crowd, Selorin considered the situation. Vade was a sensible adult in good health, and could be trusted to conduct himself reasonably well. It wasn’t likely for mischief to befall him, especially in the royal palace under Anosukinom’s watchful eye. Chances were, especially considering Vade’s own personality, he’d simply slipped away for a moment of privacy. The only things which ever caused Vade to turn down sex were a sense of duty and cultural shame, but if the man were tempting enough or Vade were uninhibited enough - - Selorin brushed his lips against Bade’s ear and whispered, “Do you want me to find him before he disobeys your father?” Bade pulled away, blushing, but Selorin had been close enough to hear his halfbreath of arousal. “No, I’ll go,” Bade said. “I’ll do it.” “Nnn, stay,” Selorin decided, nudging him back. “I’ll go. You’ll be too nervous to interrupt, but I don’t mind acting shameless.” Brushing his fingers over Bade’s lips again, because it had felt so good the first time, Selorin made his way to the nearest door.

Now, where might Vade be? Asking the gods to guide his feet, Selorin decided to try Vade’s quarters first. He had to turn down two offers of sex on the way there, which was a pity, but he decided to prioritize his errand for Bade. Besides, catching Vade mid-act might be amusing. Reaching Vade’s apartment, he tried the doorknob. It turned easily, and he nudged the door open, listening. Rini’s laughter. Which didn’t entirely rule out the possibility of sex, but it did suggest something more banal. Strolling right in, Selorin found a comfortable little scene. Vade, Rini, and Anosanim were seated on the floor together beside the fireplace. They were eating from a platter of ballroom food and drinking something that had brought color to Anosanim’s cheeks. Vade’s shirt and vest were unlaced to his navel, and Anosanim was barefoot, so they’d settled in to stay a while. “…mmm, but that’s not what it’s about,” Anosanim was saying. The fire in the fireplace didn’t seem real; the flames kept changing color, now purple, now silver, and the logs glittered as if dusted with gold. “There is no one perfect technique. You don’t master one exact way to do it, you master each individual dick as it comes to you.” “You master each man,” Rini announced. “Yes, that’s it exactly,” Anosanim agreed. “What I like and what you like aren’t the same. I don’t even necessarily want the same thing tonight that I wanted yesterday, or that I’ll want next week. If you gave head to any two men, back-toback, the same way, one of them would say that you were spectacular and the other would say that you were only passable.” “You have to know what your partner wants, and give that to him,” Rini said. “There isn’t one universal way to do it. Unless you’re only giving head to one person for the rest of your life.” “I suppose that you could develop one specific technique, like a signature move,” Anosanim said thoughtfully. “Whoever’s with you will get that particular technique, and how they enjoy it is up to them.” “I love adapting to my partners,” Rini said. “It’s so much fun, it’s sexy, trying to do what they want, learning their moves, picking up on their responses. Asking what they like and how they want it.” Vade was atypically quiet, which meant that he was soaking up information and trying to make it fit. Selorin took a few more steps forward, smiling at his younger brothers. “What pulled the two of you away from the ball?” Looking up, startled, Vade blushed a deep red. “Hey,” Rini said, smiling broadly. “We’re talking about giving head. Got any advice?”

“Advice on sucking dick?” Too bad Remin was busy. And too bad Tano was busy; Selorin would’ve definitely enjoyed holding this conversation with Tano. “Practice as often as possible.” Seating himself comfortably beside Anosanim, he took the bottle from Rini’s loose grip. He sniffed first, then enjoyed a sip. One of those overly sweet, fruity wines Rini preferred. Vade looked embarrassed. “We don’t have to talk about this now. You should get back to the ball.” Selorin shrugged with one shoulder. “Given the choice between discussing politics with pompous diplomats or discussing sex, I prefer sex. Now, Rini’s entirely correct, you should communicate openly with your partners. You don’t talk enough during sex.” “Talk enough?” Vade repeated. Selorin had phrased it as an accusation with the thought that indignation would overcome Vade’s embarrassment enough to push the conversation forward, and apparently - - as usual - - he’d been right. Still flustered, Vade looked insulted and irritated. “Talk about what? Shouldn’t my mouth be busy with other things?” Selorin grinned, both amused and pleased by Vade’s expression of annoyance. “Yes, but you find plenty of time to moan and groan and call upon Grengar. Take some time to ask your partner what he wants.” “Negotiating what you want to do can be so sexy,” Rini said around a mouthful of pastry. He swallowed and took a swig of wine. “All of the stuff about here’s what I’m into, what are you into, I love the way you’re doing that, it’s fun!” “You stop and negotiate?” Vade demanded. “That’s not sexy, that’s boring.” “Go get someone Vade can practice on,” Selorin told Rini. While Rini cheerfully hopped up and jogged out of the room, Vade made horrified noises of protestation and finished by giving Selorin a deeply panicked scowl. Ignoring that, Selorin said, “Sex is going to be more fun if you know that your partner’s getting the most out of it. You can convey a lot of desires and intentions nonverbally - - Anosanim’s fantastic at manipulating his partners without saying a word - - but talking about what you want and asking what they’d like is sexy and fun, too. When you say that you want to fuck someone with the power of a thousand bulls, or when you say, ‘Harder, yeah, fuck me harder,’ that’s clear, verbal communication.” “But that’s in the moment,” Vade protested. “You sound like you’re drawing up contracts.”

With an arm around Anosanim’s waist, Selorin drew Anosanim to his side. “Demonstrate on me.” He would’ve suggested that Anosanim demonstrate on Vade, but Vade would just get too flustered to learn. With a charming, throaty laugh, Anosanim twined his arms around Selorin’s neck. “Mmm, I’d love to,” he murmured in a flirtatious, breathy voice, erotic promise glittering in his eyes. “Mmm, that feels so good, that’s so nice, I love the feel of your hands on me like that. I can’t wait to have your sexy, hard dick pushing deep inside me. Oh, you’ll be gentle, won’t you? I want to make this last.” Selorin grinned, kissing Anosanim’s cheek, then turned to Vade. “It’s easy to-” Cutting himself off, he rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers twice right in front of Vade’s eyes. Startled, Vade jerked slightly, ripping his gaze from Anosanim and visibly remembering that Selorin was in the room. “I’m sorry?” Vade asked. His eyes darted to Anosanim again; Anosanim was contentedly snacking and oblivious to Vade’s fascination. “Do try to keep up,” Selorin said. Insulting Vade was always a simple way to get his attention. Ah, there, he looked outraged; good enough. “It’s easy enough to verbalize what you’d like. The acts, the positions, the speed, the roughness. ‘I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.’ ‘I’ve been thinking all day about fucking that ass.’ ‘I’m going to fuck you through the floor.’ ‘I’ll bet that you can’t pleasure all three of us at once.’” He said it in the same tone he’d use to discuss the rugs, since he wanted Vade to feel comfortable, not flustered, by the time Rini came back. “The arrogance and vulgarity will probably vary depending on your mood and partners. Simple statements can let your partner know what you’re looking for.” “This is delicious,” Anosanim said, swallowing. “And if you’re not sure what to do, you can toss out something standard like, ‘I want to make you feel good, tell me what will make you feel good.’” “That always comes in handy,” Selorin agreed. Vade frowned at him. “This is all just common sense.” “Great,” Selorin said as he heard Rini’s giggle. “Then you should have no problem trying it out.” Twisting, he watched over his shoulder as Rini and one of the guest belas walked into the room. “Hi, Tobim.” Trying it out! Vade certainly wasn’t - - oh, Tobim. Remembering the last time he’d seen Tobim and what he’d been doing then, Vade blushed, feeling a hot rush of arousal and a little curl of embarrassment.

Greeting everyone, Tobim winked right at Vade, which was both scandalously inappropriate and wonderfully sexy. Vade had always been very fond of Tobim, but who wouldn’t be? Tobim had very short, black hair and very hard, developed pecs and was generally a lot of fun. “Thank you for coming,” Selorin told Tobim. “We need you to cooperate for a little lesson. Extra, offer our guest a chair.” Tobim was looking at Selorin as if he liked what he saw. “I’m very cooperative. Especially with men like you.” “Good,” Selorin said, and grinned. “Then we’re all in for a good time tonight.” Rini dragged over a straight-backed chair. Languidly taking a seat, Tobim tossed his head, smiling wickedly, flirtatiously at Rini and undulating right there in the chair, sending his muscles rippling, his hips rolling in a really explicit way Vade hoped he would do again over and over and over. “Do you wish for me to pleasure myself? Or will someone tend to my needs?” “Who do you want to tend to your needs?” Selorin asked. “We can send for someone.” Yes. Yes! Then Tobim and the other belas could put on a show, and everyone would forget about whatever Selorin had intended to do in the first place, and Vade would get to watch belas fuck each other. Tobim’s gaze slid past Selorin and penetrated right into Vade, making him feel hot and flushed. More hot and flushed than he’d already been, anyway. Tobim writhed a little, flexing and squirming, and pouted at Vade. “I want Prince Vade to tend to me. He always does it,” Tobim licked his lips and spread his thighs, “so well.” Oh, shit. “Get out of here,” Vade ordered, pushing at Selorin. If he got rid of the brightly colored Anorians, he could be alone with Tobim, and that bulge thickening in Tobim’s shorts was begging for it. Snickering, Selorin swatted at him. “Tobim’s here for your lesson, not your private enjoyment. Get over there.” Hey! “I’m not one of your subjects! I’m not learning any lessons from you and I’m not going to do your bidding! I’m an honored guest, so get out of my room.” “Oh, come on,” Rini said, rolling his eyes. “It’s all for fun. It’s just some practice. We’ve all seen you give head before, it’s not going to shock us. Hey, I know, I’ll send for another bela, I’ll practice it with you so you’re not the only one doing it. That’ll make it easier, right?” “You’ll use any excuse to suck dick,” Selorin said, smiling at Rini.

Anosanim glanced over at him. “Maybe if you were better at it, you’d understand.” Surprised, Vade burst into laughter at that. Selorin sighed and pinched Anosanim. “I give terrific head.” “Yes, your partners tell you that you do,” Anosanim said, smiling. “I know the truth when I hear it,” Selorin argued. “They mean it.” “Well, the truth is subjective, isn’t it?” Anosanim asked. “They think that it’s great because it feels great to them. Just as I can think that a poem is particularly wellwritten until I mature as a reader and see it for what it is.” “Maybe you should practice, too,” Vade suggested, grinning at Selorin. “Yes! I’ll get more belas,” Rini said. “And some for Vade, too, so we can have variety!” He raced over to the board on the wall, picking up some chalk. “We should begin,” Anosanim said, getting to his feet in that elegant, graceful way he had that Vade wasn’t even going to try to mimic. Whoa, apparently several parts of Anosanim’s outfit just came apart with a tug, and Vade was going to spend plenty of time thinking about that later. With the most complex parts of his outfit on the floor, Anosanim stood there in a simple half-shirt and skirt, and he looked fantastically beautiful. Glancing over at Tobim, he lightly touched his mouth. “It’s so rude to keep a hard dick waiting.” “Nnnnmm.” Tobim bit into his lower lip, one hand rubbing promisingly low on his stomach, his erection lewdly tenting his shorts. Anosanim knelt between Tobim’s legs prettily and pulled those shorts down with his teeth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Vade, come sit next to me so you get a close look for your lesson. Tobim?” Anosanim gazed up at Tobim, his beautiful face inches from that big, hard dick. “What do you like, To, what can I do to make you feel good?” “Fuck,” Tobim breathed, staring down at Anosanim like he couldn’t quite believe what he saw. “You can suck my dick, I know that I’d love that.” With a chuckle, Anosanim lowered his head. As his slim, elegantly manicured, prettily jeweled fingers wrapped around the base of Tobim’s lengthy erection, his tongue flicked out, and Anosanim began licking. Great. Grengar. Vade moved closer automatically and was actually a little surprised when he found himself next to Anosanim. Beautifully sexy, really talented Anosanim. The way he was licking and bobbing looked amazing, and Tobim sounded like he was having the time of his life. “Mmm, ah.” With an appreciative moan, Anosanim

brushed his lips over the head of Tobim’s erection. “Oh, you feel simply wonderful in my mouth. Is this good for you? Is this how you like it?” “Gods above, you know what you’re doing,” Tobim said with a soft, disbelieving laugh. “I’d love to watch you swallow it.” “Mmm, yes,” Anosanim said with a pleased sigh, and he dipped forward, sucking Tobim’s erection into his mouth and going down, down, that long shaft disappearing between his lips until the entirety of Tobim’s dick was lodged down his throat, and Tobim was groaning, and Anosanim did it again, again, and Vade was torn between wanting to suck on Tobim’s dick like that or slide his dick between Anosanim’s lips like that or just get off in his own hand, and the temptation to join in or simply slide his hand down the front of his pants was unbearable. Somewhere near the door he heard other belas come in, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the incredible sight just inches from his face. With a long, slow slurp, Anosanim pulled Tobim’s dick from his mouth and licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “Mmm, Vade. Here, take a turn.” He couldn’t - - he wanted to, of course, but - - and if the others were going to join in, then it wouldn’t be like he was the only one doing it - - and they had seen him give head before - - although he really shouldn’tTobim touched Vade’s face, rubbing his thumb over Vade’s lips. “You heard the prince. It’s rude to keep a hard dick waiting.” And then he was undulating again while Anosanim elegantly rubbed his balls, Anosanim’s hand sparkling with bright jewels and orange nail polish. Great Grengar. Vade took a deep breath, licking his lips and glancing around. Rini was erasing something on the board and writing something new. Anosanim had, oh, started licking Tobim’s nipples. Selorin was undressing and kissing someone, but Vade didn’t see who it was because the next thing he knew, Tobim’s dick was sliding down his throat, his eyes were closing, and he was so glad to be back in Orina Anoris. “Unh, ooh, oh, Remin.” Crawling back up Remin’s body, Tano pressed him down against the pillows. Gloriously hard and aching with desire, Tano kissed Remin’s beautiful face, kissed Remin’s exquisite lips. “Mmm, yes,” Remin sighed, and the light drag of his nails down Tano’s back made Tano shudder with want.

Laughing, Orinakin pulled Bade down the hallway. Orinakin looked so happy and so gorgeous that Bade felt a sharp pulse of love for him and hugged him right there in the hallway. Hugging back, Orinakin laughed again, pressing swift kisses to Bade’s cheek and jaw. Looking into the vivid purple of his eyes, Bade wanted to make love to him, to make him laugh again, to find out why he was so happy. Usually after an event like this, when Orinakin had spent every second of a long day working and talking and dealing with people, Orinakin held it all together until the very end and then collapsed, exhausted, emotionally drained. But now the ball was finally over and they were on their way to bed and Orinakin still seemed up and energetic. “I don’t know,” Orinakin said, taking his hand. “It’s different today. I think that it’s the love in the air. I’ve felt so much love, in all possible forms, that it’s been uplifting, emotionally. Inspiring. It’s hard to feel tired when there’s so much love in the room keeping me going. I want to take you to Uristalia and share lovesex with you and give you all of the love I’ve taken in all day.” That sounded pretty great to Bade. He“Hmm?” Orinakin gave him a curious look. “What was that?” “What?” Oh. “It’s not serious.” But Orinakin was attentive now, and it would be easier if he just explained. “Vade disappeared from the ball, and Selorin went to go find him to make sure that he wasn’t getting into trouble. I haven’t seen either one of them since then. Not that I think that Selorin’s in trouble or danger or anything, I just don’t know what they’re up to.” Orinakin was laughing again, his eyes sparkling in a way that snatched at Bade’s breath. “I’m sure that it’s nothing, but let’s go check on them. I don’t want you to be distracted when I seduce you in Uristalia.” As if anything could distract him from that. “I don’t think that I’ll need a lot of seducing,” Bade admitted. “It’ll probably only take a, ‘Want to?’ before I’m ready to go.” While Orinakin laughed over that, they went towards Vade’s apartment. Bade had a key and let himself in without the slightest pang of conscience. Once they were in, however, he hastily pushed the door shut behind them so that no one else could catch a glimpse. Great Grengar, what the fuck was going on?! There were naked belas seated around the room. Vade and Selorin and Anosanim and Rini were kneeling in front of them, going down on them, sucking and slurping. Aside from the four belas currently, um, working, two were eagerly twitching in their seats, straining to be next, and one was slumped with a soft dick and a dreamy, satisfied expression.

There were a lot of wet, smacking sounds and Vade’s noisy moaning, but there was also an unusual amount of conversation happening. The belas kept moaning things like, “Yes, yes, like that,” or, “Mmm, just like that, that’s it, that’s how I want it,” or, “Faster, faster, suck it faster.” Vade and the Siblings were mumbling all sorts of questions, like, “How do you want it?” and “Like this, do you like this?” and “How about this, is this good?” There was a bunch of “Tell me how you want it” and “I want to hear what you like” and wow, Anosanim was amazingly articulate for someone with a dick in his mouth. The polite thing - - the only thing - - to do would be to back out discreetly and pretend never to have seen this. Or to back out discreetly and then demand answers tomorrow, when they weren’t all currently giving head. But the sight of Anosanim sucking dick was always so very, very compelling, and the belas had superb dicks, and the sexy way the belas were asking for it was really turning Bade on, and he had to leave but he just wanted to watch for one more second, fuck, could he join in? The press of Orinakin’s hand between his thighs made Bade press his knuckles to his mouth to keep from groaning aloud, and he was still trying to stifle himself when Orinakin licked a quick stripe across his neck and knelt down. Orinakin had just knelt down. Orinakin was unlacing his pants, and that wasn’t right, that couldn’t be good, they had to go, they couldn’t just - - oh, oh, fuck! Moaning helplessly at the wet suck of Orinakin’s mouth, Bade stared as Selorin moved from one bela to the next with a lithe twist, Selorin’s lips wrapping around another bela’s plump, lengthy shaft. Watching Selorin’s head bob in time with the suction of Orinakin’s mouth, Bade groaned, sinking his fingers into Orinakin’s hair as Selorin’s cheeks hollowed. “Oh, hey, Orinakin, Bade,” Rini said cheerfully, and Bade would’ve died of embarrassment but he couldn’t die yet, he had more watching to do. One of the belas was gasping out, “Like that, yes, yes, just like, ah, ah, I’m going to come, ah!” and Bade couldn’t blame him because how did Anosanim’s tongue move like that?! “Mmm,” Selorin said, moaning softly and lifting his head, smirking up at his bela, Banok. “Tell me how you like it.” “I like it in your ass,” Banok grunted, rubbing a foot over Selorin’s thigh. “Get up here and hop on.” With a soft tsking sound, Selorin flicked his thumb over the head of Banok’s leaking erection. “You’re not playing by the rules.”

Bade probably would’ve been able to read Banok’s expression if he’d been able to tear his gaze from that magnificent dick. Banok just grunted again and asked, “Would you rather play by the rules or would you rather sit on my dick? I know which one I’d prefer, and it’s the one where you’re naked and coming and calling my name.” Selorin hesitated for a moment - - or else he didn’t, and the way Orinakin was humming around Bade’s erection was warping time, which seemed equally likely - - and then stood. “Vade, where’s the oil?” Selorin undressed easily and rapidly, like a couple flicks of his fingers had him completely naked, and he was beautiful, he was absolutely gorgeous, he looked just like Orinakin and nothing turned Bade on like Orinakin. Groaning, Bade pushed farther down Orinakin’s throat, and Orinakin moaned, sucking him down and urging him on. Vade hadn’t answered - - Vade seemed to be in his own world, slurping and groaning and making his bela beg - - but Anosanim pulled oil out of nowhere and tossed it over. Selorin was about to get fucked, which meant that Bade could watch Banok fuck Orinakin’s body while Orinakin gave Bade head, and there were so many sexy dicks and hungry mouths, so much wet sucking and desperate moaning, so, so, oh, Bade was about to, ah, ah, Orinakin! While Selorin climbed into Banok’s lap and Banok oiled Selorin up, Orinakin sat back on his heels, kissing Bade’s hip and looking up with gorgeous purple eyes. “Do you want to play?” Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. “Fuck me,” Bade said, pushing his pants down farther, “and then ask me again.”

Part 290 Remin inhaled deeply, slowly waking. His face rested against Tano’s neck; he could feel Tano’s even breathing against his hair. His first conscious thought was that he was aroused; his second thought was a painfully familiar quick moment of angry panic that he was breaking the rules and had to roll away from Tano. Rushing in like a generous rain over parched soil came his third thought: he was married, they were married, things were different now. He could have this now. In fact, he’d had a whole lot of it last night. And he planned to have even more of it today. Enjoying this new reality, this new phase of his life, Remin stayed right where he was. Naked, he and Tano were wrapped in each other’s arms, legs wound

together, with their hips pressed firmly together, as if even while asleep they made sure that their dicks would rub together when they moved. Remin smiled to himself. He’d been so lucky to find and marry his beautiful, sexy, constantly horny Tano. This incredible man was his husband. Remin had used to worry that his high sex drive after years of celibacy would be a burden to his future husband. Just as many people liked chocolate cake but wouldn’t enjoy eating a whole cake - much less the three or four whole cakes that Remin could happily consume - most people liked sex and, if asked, would say that they would like to have sex often, but would eventually reach a limit. Remin had never expected to find anyone who would help him eat all of the cakes and ask for more the next day. Tano’s high sex drive was a fundamental part of his personality, and his level of raw sexual need was rare. It wasn’t an act, it wasn’t just to keep up with Remin, it wasn’t simply because sex was fun; Tano truly needed an astounding amount of varied and frequent sexual activity to feel satisfied on a regular basis. Remin was an expert at reading people in any context, but he was a genius at reading people sexually. He saw not just desire but genuine need on Tano’s face, and he’d noticed how quickly it returned. He recognized a lust very similar to his own, yet unique to Tano. He couldn’t wait to explore it fully. And now he had the rest of their lives to do so. Lifting his head, Remin looked at Tano’s sleeping face. So peaceful and so very handsome. Looking forward to life with this man, Remin whispered, “Wake up, Teritano.” Tano grunted, eyebrows drawing together. His eyes fluttered open and his expression cleared as he smiled brightly at Remin in happy recognition. He looked so sexy and kind and fresh that Remin smiled back. “Good morning.” To enjoy the gift of skin on skin, Remin rubbed his half-hard dick against Tano’s. “Good morning,” Tano said, and he shifted, hips nudging against Remin’s hardness. Such a simple move. Such a wonderful move. “How did you sleep?” “Better than I have in years.” “Mmm. Me, too.” Tano kissed him, cupping his ass, pressing their hips together more firmly as he began to move deliberately against Remin. Remin’s blood was already pumping, he and Tano were devouring each other’s mouths, and to his delight, Tano rolled on top of him. “Let’s work on earning a good night’s sleep for tonight.”

After fantastic and sweaty morning sex, Tano rested his chin on Remin’s chest, twirling a lock of golden hair between his fingers, admiring his new husband. Husband. He was married to Prince Remin. The concept was still sinking in and it made him smile every time he thought of it. Remin gazed at him thoughtfully. “Let’s go to a belam today.” Today? “Are you ready for that?” Tano was getting horny again just at the thought of it. The belas had been hinting and making offers, and Tano couldn’t wait to play with them. He wasn’t sure, though; was Remin ready to be in a room full of belas without planting his dick in one of them? Last night it had been amazing - - almost therapeutic, even - - to be together without restrictions, finally. But was it too soon to add belas? Tano didn’t want to push and upset the terrific progress Remin had been making. His own lust had to be secondary to Remin’s stability. “Yes, I’m ready. Very much so. I don’t want to put it off another day. I’ve made a very grand deal about my sex life, or lack thereof, the past few years. I’ve made everything monumental. It didn’t used to be that way, and you’ve helped me remember that it doesn’t have to be. I’m mature, I’m responsible, and I’ve developed an amazing amount of control. I can enjoy other people having sex without personally joining in on every single aspect of it.” It was great to hear Remin sound so sure. Tano loved how full of conviction Remin always was. “You’ve gotten very good at behaving yourself with the men we partner with together.” Remin smoothed a thumb over Tano’s eyebrow. “Besides, I used to spend a lot of time with my belas, and they were a big part of my life. Since I ascended, I’ve barely spoken to them, and I miss them. I want to touch them and kiss them and watch them have sex with you and each other, and I can enjoy it without going too far. I want to get back that aspect of my life.” The belas had been open about how much they missed Remin, too. Hearing him speak this way, Tano was glad to hear how much balance he’d gained between being a man and being a priest. “Then let’s do it. I would never deny you anything, and I hate to see you deny yourself things.” Tano leaned up to kiss him. “You get to fuck belas today,” Remin murmured against his mouth. “Does that excite you?” Tano laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve been hard since we started talking about this.” Tano smiled at Remin, who smiled right back. “Come on, let’s go wash up. But I don’t want to get off again until we get to the belam. I want to save up a little.”

“In that case,” Remin palmed Tano’s ass, “you’d better shower alone.” Talin stepped out of the shower to find Kudorin perched on his sink. Kudorin smiled at him. “Towel?” Snorting in amusement, Talin said, “Sure, thanks,” and took one from Kudorin’s hand. “So.” Resting his arms across his raised knees, Kudorin watched Talin dry off. “Are you ready?” Tossing his damp, red hair over his shoulder, Talin shrugged. “Whenever you are.” Tano tied his robe shut and grinned at Remin’s determined expression. “You’re ready for this.” Remin tossed his hair and raised his chin, heading for the door. “As ready as the rain is to meet the soil.” Together, they left their quarters and walked along the hallway. As Remin’s right hand reached for the doorknob, his left hand splayed against Tano’s chest. The liquid gold of his eyes was powerfully commanding. “Naritano Pitok, you have given me your love and your loyalty, you have married me and fed me, you have brought me happiness and you have brought me sexual satisfaction I wasn’t sure I’d ever know again. And now. This.” Tano kissed him, anticipation of the pleasures to come mixing with love for Remin to incite rapidly rising desires. “I’m getting hot thinking about you watching all of the things they’re going to do to me. Will you lick it up when they make me come?” Remin’s soft, pleased growl was the sexiest thing Tano had heard since the last time Remin had sounded turned on. “Fuck, I love you.” “Mmm, aaahh, I love you, too,” Tano breathed, and he said that to Remin a lot but he meant it more and more every time. As they kissed, his hands kept Remin’s body close to his, and Remin’s hand turned the knob, and they stumbled into the belam together. Peering around the corner, Kudorin looked left. Looked right. Looked left. His right hand snaking back across Talin’s chest, he held Talin back and out of sight as he waited for the hallway to clear.

Sighing, Talin waited. Considering Kudorin’s omnipotence, there was no need for them to sneak around. But Kudorin was in a good mood, and Talin was willing to play along. Kudorin’s fingers hooked in the front of his shirt and tugged, and Talin followed quickly as Kudorin pulled him a short dash along the hallway to Remin’s door. In seconds, they were in, candles lighting brightly in Kudorin’s presence. “How long do we have?” Talin asked, taking a look around. Kudorin snickered and flashed him a merry smile. “They went into the lesis belam. We may not see them for weeks.” The lesis belam exploded with excitement. “Prince Remin! Naritano! We didn’t expect you so soon!” Scantily clad belas rushed up to them, disentangling themselves from each other to come and greet them. Smiling and eager, their oiled muscles gleaming, several more hurried into the main room from the bedrooms at the news. “We’re so happy to see you, Prince Remin,” Jekari said, coming forward with the rest, slender and long-limbed, his short, silver gown falling open to reveal perfectly toned abs and a long, perky dick. “We want to greet you properly,” reaching forward, he almost touched Remin, but pulled back and caressed his own chest instead, his touch light and lingering and unforgivably sensual, “but first, please, tell us how much you’re comfortable with today, so that we can do our best for you.” “I’m comfortable with the world,” Remin said. He couldn’t wait to get started. The assembled belas were a perfect buffet of sexual opportunity, and he wanted to sample every flavor. They knew to avoid genital contact with him, but there was still plenty of fun to be had. “Don’t hold back. As for Tano,” and he nudged Tano forward into the cluster of belas, “give him everything that he wants, and then some.” Exclaiming, the belas all started talking at once. Many crowded in on Tano, who basked in the attention, his face already flushed with desire. Depano slid his hand up Remin’s neck, capturing Remin’s attention. The simple, carnal, familiar touch inflamed Remin’s lust, sending heat sizzling through him in the old, sweet way. Oh, yes. This was exactly what his body had been yearning for. “It’s true?” Depano’s dark brown eyes were wide with wonder. “Our golden prince has come back to us?” Yes, it was true, and Remin pulled Depano flush against his body and kissed him deeply, taking his mouth, moaning at his first taste of bela in so many, too many

years. He could hear cheering and clapping, but he was only thinking about sliding his hands all over Depano’s taut, luscious body as they pulled him and Tano further into the room. His back hit the mattress of one of the large circular beds, and he wasn’t ready to break away from Depano’s sweet, giving mouth yet but several new hands were rubbing his chest and stroking his legs as Tano landed a few feet away from him on the bed. There were belas all over Tano, touching him, kissing him, murmuring a hundred sexy things they wanted to do to him, and Remin peered through a golden fringe of lashes, wanting to watch Tano’s introduction to the belam. True to form, Tano didn’t looked worried or overwhelmed; he looked excited and ready to get into it. As Tano sat up someone immediately sat behind him, kissing his neck and rubbing his chest as he pulled Panori across his lap. Tano kissed Panori, hand already working on Panori’s dick, and then he smiled his friendly, happy smile and asked, “Hi, what’s your name?” Piling into the carriage after the game, Rini handed Dei and Kei pennants with the team logo. “And you thought you wouldn’t enjoy it,” he told Wae-Wae with a grin, nudging her in the side. “It was very educational,” she said, but her poise couldn’t disguise the flush in her cheeks or the light in her eyes. “Anorian athletics are more competitive than I had anticipated.” “You looked like you were having fun,” Rini said to Xio Dei, passing him another piece of candy. “I thought it was going to go into overtime for sure!” Dei exclaimed. He’d been bouncing and cheering and shouting all morning, and Rini loved seeing him so mussed and exuberant. A little free time to be less imperial and more of a kid had to be good for him. “I can’t believe they won at the last second like that! That goal came out of nowhere!” “They displayed exemplary sportsmanship,” Kei said. “And it was fun,” Rini said, poking him. Kei grinned helplessly, blushing. “And it was fun.” Yes! Rini hugged him, then remembered Xio Voe’s rules and hugged Dei, too. “Listen.” He’d kept trying to find a good opening for this suggestion, and this might be his best chance. “I know that your parents have to get back, but you can stay for a while, right? Spend more time with Xio Voe, study Anorian culture.”

“Can we?” Dei asked, jumping in as soon as Rini had finished speaking, looking to Wae with eager eyes. “We mustn’t neglect our studies,” she said primly, but that wasn’t a real no. “There’s plenty of stuff to learn here,” Rini said. “Why do you think all of your imperial experts are so eager to talk to my brothers? Half an hour with Kudorin is better than a whole month with your tutors. Besides, Xio Voe has more free time here than he does in Seijaces - - well, you know, he never really has free time, but he - - whatever, you’ll have more opportunities to spend time with him if you stay, and he’s your future Emperor, you should be around him more. You can go home in a couple of weeks, or whenever, another few days without your tutors won’t hurt. Half of my brothers love to educate people and the other half of them love to help people and all of them like you, so they’ll tutor you about whatever you want to know.” “A longer stay here could be beneficial,” Kei told Wae. “We do not often have reason to visit, so making the most of our trip here would be wise.” “Exactly!” Rini already had the boys on his side, now he just had to convince Wae. “Xio Voe lives here, he finds something redeeming and worthwhile here. Why rush off? You’re not afraid that we’re going to get our cialex vibes all over you, are you?” Wae gave him a frigid look but said to Kei, “I will speak with Empress Xio Heijein about our departure.” “Ah, ah, oh, unh!” Working with the driving rhythm of the belas, Tano thrust into Ileka’s smooth, bouncing ass as eager moans and muffled cries filled the belam. Behiko’s hands were hot and sensual against his body, caressing and teasing over his skin as Behiko fucked him from behind in quick, deep strokes. Sprawled in sweaty, naked abandon before Tano, rocking greedily on the steady slide of Tano’s erection, Ileka noisily sucked Depano’s dick, his hips and bobbing head keeping perfect pace together. While Behiko left soft, hungry kisses across the back of Tano’s neck, Tano groaned at the deep, fiery bursts of pleasure streaking through him at each thrust of Behiko’s long, plunging dick. A beautiful slice of golden perfection among the tumble of bodies on the bed, Remin shared lewd, moaning kisses with Depano, his fingers sliding through Ileka’s hair as Ileka’s head rose up and down over Depano’s wet, straining erection. Remin whispered something, his teeth catching Depano’s lower lip, and Depano groaned, coming, spurting thickly over Ileka’s red lips, his pinched, redfaced, orgasmic expression fading into a look of deeply peaceful satisfaction. As

Depano sighed and dropped back against the pillows, Remin leaned forward, kissing Ileka deeply, licking up splattered drops of white cum. Rocking energetically into Ileka’s plump little ass, Tano watched Ileka and Remin share the gift of Depano’s cum. The sight of their slick, gluttonous kiss made Tano hungry for a taste, and he didn’t have to say a word before Remin knelt next to him and kissed him so that he could enjoy it, too. Groaning at the slide of Remin’s tongue, Tano’s hand met Remin’s fingers across the curves of Ileka’s ass, Remin’s touch stroking the cleft of Ileka’s ass while Tano thrust in harder, spurred onward as Behiko groaned, “Oh, yes,” and nipped at his nape, fucking him faster in sharp, forceful strokes. From the rising ecstasy in Ileka’s rough, eager cries, he was about to finish, and Tano loved making people come. Getting a good, hot handful of Ileka’s thick, rigid dick, he moaned at the feel of it, pumping quickly as Remin’s clever, manipulative tongue turned him on so much he was fucking Ileka harder and harder on each thrust. Blissful cries spiraling into a squealing shout, Ileka came in his hand, shuddering happily as Remin’s fingertips swirled lightly across the sweat pooling on his lower back. Gods above, Tano loved belas. Licking his thumb and then offering his hand to Remin to taste, Tano leaned back into Behiko’s gorgeous, deep thrusts. The way Remin’s tongue danced across his palm made Tano’s already aching dick throb. Fuck, he wanted to make Remin come, too. “Sit, sit here, I want to suck you off.” He was ahead by two orgasms, and it seemed brutally unfair for Remin to have fewer orgasms than he did. Than anyone did. As Remin shot Tano a wickedly approving look and gracefully eased into position, Ileka rolled out of the way to flop on the other side of the bed, panting. “Ilanosa have mercy. Prince Remin, marry three more just like him. Gods above, he’s perfect for you.” Remin’s appreciative laughter broke into a pleased groan as Tano lowered his head and swallowed Remin’s beautifully erect dick to the base. Three down, two to go. As soon as he’d settled the Jacaceans back into the palace, Rini ran off to find Tiko. Unfortunately, Tiko was in some meeting with a bunch of important foreigners. Rini didn’t like to wait, so he kept moving and found Vade and Wirra with Anosadum. After he’d greeted everyone and had some friendly conversation, he said to Wirra, “I hope that you’ll indulge me.” Wirra smiled at him. “I’ll be glad to help you however I’m able.”

He and Wirra had always liked each other, and he hoped that her fondness for him would ease her along into giving him what he wanted. “We all love it when your family visits. It’s so great having you here, I wish that you came to see us more often. Bade told me that you’re leaving next week, so now I have to cram all of the plans I had into a few days. I still have a dozen more places to take you before you go. But I was wondering.” He gave her a charming smile and she smiled back, waiting patiently for him to get to the point. “You and King Mindo have to go back to Nosupolis, but what if Tiko and Vade stayed a little while longer?” “Oh,” Vade said. “Yes, that’s - - well, if you think that it would be all right - - it’s so kind of you to offer, really. So hospitable.” “Very hospitable,” Anosadum murmured, smiling. “Kudorin loves having your family here,” Rini added. “He’d be so happy if Tiko and Vade could stay longer. A lot of our guests will be staying for ages, to make the most of the trip, so there will be plenty of people for Tiko to make a good impression on.” “Ah, well, if Anosukinom thinks it best, who are we to argue?” Vade asked. Anosadum looked like she wanted to laugh. Wirra gave Vade a patient, vaguely amused smile. “It’s very kind of you to ask,” she told Rini. “I’ll speak about it with King Mindo.” “Great!” Rini hugged her. “It would make Bade so happy. I know how much he loves having his family here,” he added earnestly, and from the sudden wash of emotions over her face, he knew that he had her. Remin liked watching Tano interact with the belas, how friendly and happy and unabashedly sexy Tano was, how kind and flirtatious and fun the belas were with him. They’d all showered and cleaned up, and now Tano was sitting in a large, circular depression in the floor lined with soft, decorative pillows. He lounged naked with several belas, talking and laughing with them, enjoying their company, getting to know them as they got to know him. From what Remin could hear, they were discussing food, of course, and Tano’s hometown, and his time in Ilaeia, and sex - - what Tano liked, what the belas liked, Tano’s sexual history, the belas’ desires. At the moment, they seemed to be talking about the men Remin and Tano had shared together. It had been too long since Remin had basked in the luxuries of the belam. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Relaxing on a massage table, he sighed with pleasure at the intimacy and sensuality of Ileka and Panori’s hands lovingly,

thoroughly massaging his back and legs. Their touch was skilled, nuanced, drawing any hint of tension from his muscles, caressing him with a frank eroticism that treated his body like a sexual treasure. Sitting in a chair near his head, Jekari massaged his hands with slow, deft strokes. Remin had missed being touched in this easily affectionate way. The belas had been his friends, people he’d shared sex and fun and games and conversation and cozy familiarity with. “I was such a fool to stay away for so long. My dread seems so silly now.” “We wanted to come to you, to help you with the stress of your office, but we understood why you wanted us to stay away.” Jekari smoothed another drop of massage oil on the back of his hand. “Didn’t Anosukinom tell you to come to us?” “He did.” He should’ve listened. “He was insistent about it when I first ascended, but I was convinced that I would never be able to handle it.” Jekari’s smile was fond. “Even our divine prince has trouble following directions from the gods. That makes me feel better about my own lapses in following my priest’s advice to the letter.” “I’m sure that I set a horrible example, but Kudorin has a way of acting much more like an annoying older brother than a real authority, sometimes.” A memory struck Remin, and he groaned. “Do you remember the time he messed with the belam doors? So that every time we tried to leave a belam, we walked right into another one?” “Best week of my life,” Jekari said. His smile was teasing, knowing, and wonderfully sexy. “Didn’t you have a name for it?” “Oh, the joys of my youth. I did, I called it the never-ending, revolving party in my ass.” They laughed, and Remin felt a lightness in his soul. A new contentment, like everything in his life was settling into place. These were his friends, they shared great memories together; he’d been such a fool to shy away from them all of this time. And that really had been a spectacular week. “I’ve missed you, all of you. How you’ve been? How is your family?” While Remin talked and caught up with Jekari, Ileka, and Panori, he watched Tano for cues. Tano was smiling and talking and in a great mood, but he was getting horny again, Remin could tell. He was shifting around a lot more now, and his hand, which had been on his thigh, was now lightly resting on his dick. The belas must have noticed, too, because Satokali casually reached over to rub Tano’s balls. Unfazed by the attention, Tano just smiled at him and kept talking. Sunatam leaned in close on the other side, sleek and pretty and pouty-lipped, and started kissing his neck. Leaning into it, Tano ran his fingers through

Sunatam’s hair and opened his legs wider for Satokali. Then Tano said something that got the belas to smile and laugh cheerfully. Moving in on Tano, the belas stood up and clustered in front of him, almost surrounding him. On his knees with a bright, friendly grin, Tano grabbed a dick in each hand and sucked a third straight into his mouth. Fuck, Tano didn’t waste any time, and Remin was so turned on that he had to breathe deeply to keep control of himself. “Your husband is impressive,” Panori said in an admiring and slightly breathless tone. “Look at him, he has fabulous technique. And he hasn’t had any formal training?” “No. He’s just an eager, quick learner.” Loving the sight of those sexy, aroused men closing in around Tano, touching his face and his hair, fucking his hands and taking turns in his mouth, Remin squirmed on the table. He wanted to get a closer look, wanted to join in. “It’s not often that we get new toys.” Ileka’s voice was lively with admiration and sexual interest. “Prince Remin, you have truly blessed us by bringing us this gift.” “Mmm, you certainly have,” Jekari murmured. “Oooh, look at that suction, he knows exactly what he’s doing.” Keeping a quick, steady rhythm, Tano stayed in motion, sucking and jerking and moaning as if he were having the time of his life. He was enthusiastic in his work, moving from dick to dick as if each one were his new, longed-for favorite, lavishing attention with his hands while his mouth was occupied, doing his best to leave no one neglected. Watching him, Remin could think of a dozen ways to participate, a dozen ways this might go, but before Remin could make a decision, Tano shifted. Turning to put his back more fully toward Remin, Tano tossed a flirtatious, tempting look at Remin over his shoulder. Ostentatiously, lasciviously licking the dick closest to his mouth, he reached back and stroked the cleft of his own ass, spreading himself open, showing off his beautiful pink pucker. Fuck. It was so pretty, flexing and shining with oil and begging for his dick. Pulling off of the erection in his mouth with a lewd pop, Tano crooked a finger, beckoning. “Gods be praised.” Remin was rolling off of the table and kneeling behind Tano in an instant, Jekari and the others fast at his heels. His body was already burning with need as he buried himself inside Tano, thrusting in all the way to the base, groaning at the clenching heat of Tano’s ass. Crying out with pleasure, Tano undulated against him, pushing back into him, joyfully slurping down another

dick. As Tano got back to work, Remin pumped aggressively into him, hands rubbing greedily over his lusty, naked body to keep from grabbing at the big, gorgeous erections jockeying for attention around Tano’s face. The feel of hands, sensual and possessive and appreciative hands, sliding over his back and cupping his ass and rubbing his thighs, made Remin moan with pleasure. Fuck, he loved being touched. Jekari was kissing his neck, sucking on, mmm, just the right spot. Reaching back, he rubbed Jekari’s soft, thick hair, thrusting steadily into Tano’s hot, welcoming ass. The scene in front of him was an intensely erotic display. Beautiful men, marvelously hard dicks, and Tano’s eager mouth. Remin had fantasized extensively about moments just like this one, and it was every bit as arousing as he’d hoped. But this was no one-time event, no rare occurrence; this would happen so very, very many more times in his life with Tano, that he felt a merry surge of pure joy at the sight of Tano lapping devotedly at two dickheads at once. Tano definitely deserved to come a few extra times simply for being so wonderful. Sliding his hand into the heat of Tano’s groin, Remin tweaked Tano’s dick just the way he knew that Tano liked it, just the way that Tano did it to himself. Rock-hard and swiftly leaking, Tano mumbled, “mmm, hhmmph, mmmff,” with his mouth full and came with a few bucking thrusts in Remin’s hand. The sudden jerking of Tano’s dick and the sudden spill of cum made Remin groan with pleasure, but one of the things that Remin loved about Tano was that orgasm didn’t slow him down at all. Without breaking stride, Tano kept right on sucking with happy enthusiasm, working his hips energetically against Remin, his dick not as hard as before but far from soft. As Tano gulped down another erection, Remin thrust into him hard and looked up. Filled with lust and passion and magnificent pleasure, Remin met Rikano’s eyes while Tano’s tongue worked its wanton magic over Rikano’s dick. Raising his hand from Tano’s groin, Remin held Rikano’s hot, entranced gaze while he lingeringly, deliberately licked the cum from his fingers. Making an anguished, disbelieving sound, Rikano licked his lips with longing, and when Remin caught his lower lip between his teeth and moaned, Rikano came in thick, messy spurts in Tano’s mouth. Leaning back, Tano twisted toward Remin to share this new treat. Smiling with pleasure, with delight in the moment, with joy in Tano, Remin laughed, loving the happiness in Tano’s eyes. Kissing him, Tano shared his laughter, shared his joy, and Remin licked the cum from Tano’s mouth, whispering, “I love you, and I want to watch you suck every dick in this room.”

Prince Xio Dei seemed listless. He had pouted through lunch and was now looking down as if sitting alone in his own room, not attending to his companions or the orchestra. This misbehavior was an insult to his hosts and a poor reflection on his upbringing. As the musicians took a break, the select audience rose, people mingling to discuss the music and partake of the offered refreshment. Xio Voe’s time would best be spent in conversation with guests, but first he had to correct the prince’s behavior. The boy remained in his seat, head still bent as if he’d noticed no change in surroundings. Striding over, Xio Voe sat down beside him. Speaking quietly, preferring discretion, Xio Voe said, “You are inattentive.” Xio Dei looked up quickly, then lost energy and glanced away. “I was listening.” Xio Voe recognized this behavior largely from observations of the royal gift. The boy was sulking. “Your behavior is self-indulgent and unworthy of your title.” What could cause this unacceptable attitude? “Are you unwell?” Xio Dei flushed, looking irritated, wounded, and guilty by turns. He looked down again, and his jaw clenched. “I apologize, King Xio Voe. I will endeavor to correct my behavior and act in accordance with proper standards in the future.” Petulance. Hostility. He hadn’t meant a word of it; he was acting out, simply mouthing a proper apology and taking no pains to make it sound sincere. Xio Voe assessed the situation. Xio Dei was a child, still, and Xio Voe hesitated to rebuke him as if he were an adult. Allowances could be made for a child’s misconduct, within reason. Rather than continuing to address his misbehavior, Xio Voe could begin with the cause of it. What bothered him? “Have you suffered some insult? Some disappointment?” Xio Dei stared down at his hands, then raised his eyes to Xio Voe’s face. He looked unsure, then glanced around as if checking on the location of the others. Leaning closer to Xio Voe as if preferring discretion, he said, “Prince Kuladin A Rini invited us to stay. Princess Xio Wae and Prince Xio Kei and myself.” The idea held some appeal. “Empress Xio Heijein considers it best for us to return to the Empire as planned.” Ah. “You would have preferred to prolong your visit.” “I thought that we could go riding again,” Xio Dei said. “And spend some more time together. Your schedule permitting,” he added, dropping his gaze. Ah. “Yes, that would have been pleasant. I would have enjoyed the opportunity to, as you said, spend more time together. Due to the nature of the event, I have not been able to devote as much time to you and your siblings as I had wished.”

A hopeful look. “Really?” “Yes. In my more optimistic moments, I thought of taking a trip along the river together, to study the local ecosystems and discuss how the Anorian economy’s reliance on the river mirrors and differs from our own interest in our waterways.” Xio Dei sat forward with energy now. “We could’ve camped overnight. Couldn’t we?” “It would have been feasible, yes.” “That would’ve been great!” His smile turned conspiratorial. “Princess Xio Wae would have loved it, she’d be happy catching all of the bugs we came across.” The mere mention of an outing which had already been ruled impossible excited the boy. He was entirely correct; the princess would have enjoyed the minor trip. Xio Voe suspected that Xio Kei, too, would have found it a pleasurable outing. It was regrettable that it wouldn’t be possible until their next visit. And when would that visit be? Empress Xio Heijein had already made her decision. Xio Voe respected her judgment. He wondered, however, if she would reconsider. When the musicians’ performance ended, everyone retired to the white drawing room. Xio Voe approached Empress Xio Heijein, joining her and a few others in conversation. As the others turned away, Xio Voe took the opportunity presented. “I understand that Prince Kuladin A Rini extended an invitation to my siblings for a longer visit.” “Yes.” Her voice was without inflection. “It was hospitable of him.” “I would be glad to see the three of them remain a few weeks longer.” “Oh?” He had her interest now. “I had anticipated that you would be too busy to make their stay worthwhile.” “Since their arrival, I have been preoccupied with my regular duties and the demands of the event. As the situation returns to normal, I will be able to set aside more time for my siblings. I would consider their rare time here in Orina Anoris a priority.” “I do not discount your opinion. What are your thoughts on the potential for mayhem regarding unsavory elements interacting with improperly supervised youth?” He understood. She didn’t want them to be unduly influenced by Anorian ways. Certain elements of Anorian culture could seem particularly appealing to the inexperienced and impressionable. While they wouldn’t be entirely unsupervised - - they’d traveled with their usual coterie of attendants - - the presence, or lack

thereof, of the Emperor and Empress made for a very different experience. “Wellreared Jacacean children are taught to reflect thoughtfully on their choices. A good example and a strict guide are invaluable as children navigate unfamiliar waters. I consider myself to be both, and I believe that my siblings would agree.” “I agree.” She took a meditative sip of wine. “I will speak further with Princess Xio Wae on the subject.” He trusted that the princess would make the most of that opportunity. “I would be glad to host them. During these formative years, I find it best for them to spend a good deal of time under the influence of Emperor Xio Sei, yourself, and myself. Observing us outside of the Empire and how we behave on foreign soil is instructive. Too often children make the false assumption that they are bound to obey their parents’ rules only within their parents’ sphere, and misbehave with impunity, flouting the rules, at the first taste of what they consider to be freedom. It is best for them to learn that conscientious adults conduct themselves strictly under all conditions.” “You have always been a model citizen in that regard.” Yes. “Thank you,” Xio Voe said. “I owe it to the instruction I received from yourself and Emperor Xio Sei. I learned my lessons early and well.” Indeed, he had learned a great deal from his parents in his youth. But his education had lacked in a few areas, and he intended to determine that his siblings would learn a few things his education his neglected. He still considered Jacacean society superior, but there were some emotional and interpersonal lessons only Anosukinom could have taught him that he wanted his siblings to benefit from. It was entirely superfluous, but he went to his sister’s quarters that evening. Xio Kei was there, and Xio Voe gave them both a stern look. “I wish to take you into my confidence, but I must rely upon your discretion.” “You have it,” Xio Wae said instantly. “Without question,” Xio Kei said, looking fascinated and very serious. “I have spoken with Empress Xio Heijein about prolonging your visit. She will speak with you about it shortly. I wish for the three of you to remain in Orina Anoris. I trust that you will do your best to see that my wishes are met?” Delight brightened Xio Kei’s face. For a moment, Xio Wae’s smile was surprised and uninhibited, but then she composed herself, matching Xio Voe’s solemn tone, only her sparkling eyes reflecting her good humor. “Of course, Your Majesty. I will do my best to guarantee your desired outcome.”

“That will be satisfactory,” he murmured. On impulse, he reached out and caressed Xio Kei’s hair. “Good night. May Roizec guide your dreams.” With a kiss to Xio Wae’s cheek, he departed. Look at you. Xio Voe had been waiting for Anosukinom to make his opinion known; it was only a wonder that it had taken him this long to speak up. Gathering with the imperial family to conspire behind the Empress’ back. You’re such a rebellious troublemaker. It hadn’t been necessary; when Empress Xio Heijein raised the point, Xio Wae would have pushed to stay. But Xio Voe had thought that it might strengthen their fraternal bond if he made it known in advance that he, too, desired their continued presence. He’d wanted them to be sure of it, to hear it directly from him. It could only be beneficial for them to be sure of his wishes. Insecurity about their role in his life or their welcome in his home would lead nowhere good. Come here, come to me. I want to hug you and tell you how proud I am of you and plan for all of the fun things you can do during their stay. During their stay? Would the Empress decide in his favor, then? Anosukinom laughed. As the world will learn, when Xio Wae acts on Xio Voe’s orders, she never fails to complete her mission. The belas asked to watch Tano fuck Remin. Tano was happy to fuck Remin at any opportunity, and it was guaranteed to be an amazing experience every single time, but the idea of doing it for a room full of aroused, interested guys really turned him on. Sex was something to be celebrated and enjoyed, and the more people having fun with it, the better, as far as Tano was concerned. Remin didn’t even hesitate, just pulled Tano onto the nearest bed and got started. Tano loved Remin’s sexual confidence and assertiveness, loved that there was never any doubt about Remin’s intentions or cues. To know if Remin were turned on or not, Tano had much more to judge by than the stiffness of his dick; Remin communicated with his whole body, with his posture, the way he touched himself, the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, the way he tossed his hair, everything. It all told Tano how Remin felt, if he were aroused, if he felt sexually aggressive, if he wanted to flirt and tease, if he wanted to get right to it. The belas were just as open about their desires, too, and as they stood around the circular bed to watch, they talked among themselves, remarking, moaning, touching each other. A hand stroking a firm thigh, pinching a pert nipple, slowly pulling on a hard dick. Being surrounded by so many avid watchers put Tano on open display, and he felt sexy, exhilarated, wanted.

Rolling onto his back, Tano kissed Remin with sensual abandon, enjoying the luxurious slide of skin against skin, chest to chest, dick to dick. On top of him, Remin was undulating, grinding, moving in the most provocative, arousing ways. Groaning in pleasure at the feel of Remin’s taut, silky body rolling and twisting against him, Tano slid his hands down the muscular smoothness of Remin’s slender back. As his hands closed over Remin’s perky, twitching ass, he heard a pleased murmur from the belas, and he liked the sound. Wanting to turn the belas on, wanting to show Remin off, he could guess what they would like, could guess what would turn Remin on. Gripping and kneading Remin’s ass, he spread Remin open in tantalizing glimpses, putting on a little show for the crowd, enjoying their sighs of appreciation. With a velvety purr, Remin arched into it, flexing and clenching, swiveling his hips and making the sexiest, encouraging, pleased noises. Remin was so erotically thrilling and felt so good against him that Tano’s toes were curling. “Come here, mnn, let me suck you.” As he pulled Remin up his body, Remin shifted upward, hard dick bobbing in Tano’s face. Lust pounding through him at the sight of that beautiful erection framed by that pretty tuft of golden hair, Tano licked out, swirling his tongue around the head. “Mmm, unh,” so good. As he groaned happily, salivating over his treat, Remin shifted forward, hips rotating, dick painting a slick stripe around Tano’s wet lips. “Nnh, yes, oh,” how did Remin’s hips rotate like that? Squeezing Remin’s ass, pulling him in, Tano moaned, “Yeah, come on, fuck my face.” “That’s it,” Remin said in a low, seductive voice, leaning forward. “You want it, you know I’ll give it to you.” Resting his hands above Tano’s head on the bed, he rolled his hips, popping rhythmically, thrusting into Tano’s mouth. Thrilled, moaning around the bulk of Remin’s erection, Tano sucked ardently, swallowing precum. As always, Remin looked as fantastic as he felt, and the moaning and breathless whispering from the belas echoed the devoted craving in Tano’s heart. After taking his time in Tano’s mouth, Remin pulled out and shifted forward, his balls falling between Tano’s parted lips. Groaning, Tano massaged them with his tongue, breathing in the precious perfume of incense and musk. Hips still working, Remin slid his dick over Tano’s face, the silky hardness of it caressing Tano’s skin. Pushing his face up for more, wild pulses of lust searing his body, Tano was so turned on that he pumped his own hips upward, rocking into the air with need. Sucking wetly on the soft flesh of Remin’s balls, Tano groaned loudly, and Remin hissed at the humming vibration of it, thighs squeezing Tano’s shoulders.

“Mmm, mmmff, ungh,” yes. Tano reached out across the bed, trusting the belas to know what he wanted. Someone took his hand, caressing with deft sensuality and smearing oil over his fingers. Licking at Remin’s balls in his happiness, Tano spread open Remin’s cleft and found the little puckered knot of Remin’s asshole, rubbing it wet and sliding a finger inside. Oh, fuck, yes, so deliciously tight. Tossing his hair in a gold shimmer, Remin sat back against Tano’s hand, moaning in throaty, impatient tones. Tilting his face, Tano licked upward, higher, capturing the head of Remin’s dick between his lips and swallowing it down, pressing another finger into Remin, then a third, wanting, taking, knowing Remin could take it, knowing Remin would want it. With a breathless, affirmative moan, Remin threaded slender fingers through Tano’s hair, rocking greedily between his hand and his mouth. Sucking hungrily as Remin rode him, Tano couldn’t stay still, squirming on the bed as heat and tension burned between his thighs. His face was full of Remin and his throat was full of dick and his ears were full of Remin’s fervent moans and the excited panting of their audience. His fingers were where his dick wanted to be and he pushed, stroked, opened Remin up. Bucking in earnest, twitching and bouncing on Tano’s hand, thrusting aggressively between Tano’s lips, Remin let out a deep, voracious groan that sent shivers of passion down Tano’s back. “Nnn, fuck, I want your dick. Oh, unh, Tano. Deep in my ass, fuck, yes, fill me up.” Panting around Remin’s sliding, plunging dick, Tano moaned-mumbled, “Come for me, come first, I want your cum.” “Yes, unh, take it, drink it,” Remin groaned, pushing back on Tano’s fingers. Loosing his grip on Tano’s hair, he jacked his dick in harsh, quick strokes. Licking the tip, Tano waited for it, thirsty for it, and then Remin leaned back, head falling back, groaning, undulating, bucking, and there it was, yes, beautiful streams of it, thick and salty and flooding Tano’s mouth, spilling across his cheeks as he struggled to swallow it all. Fuck, yes, he had to have Remin. Sliding his fingers out, he pushed Remin down his body. A hand, a bela’s hand, wickedly sensual and expertly skilled, swiftly caressed his erection, slicking him up, and Remin shifted over him, hips poised right over his dick. Yes, right there, he was about to slide right in there and get just what he needed, oh, gods above, yes. “I can’t wait to get inside you.” Tormenting himself, he rubbed the head against Remin’s slick asshole, groaning. “Tell me you want it, ask me for it.” The lust in Remin’s golden gaze burned right into him, setting him on fire. “You know how much I want it, how much I need your hard, sexy, beautiful dick.”

Remin’s voice was exquisitely manipulative, and his hips were rolling and swiveling, his abs flexing as he caressed the head of Tano’s dick with his ass, an agonizing tease, a promise of the pleasure to come. “You’re going to give it to me, all of it, aren’t you?” “Fuck, yes.” Unable to delay the ecstasy any longer, Tano thrust in with a crude snap of his hips. As Remin cried out in echoing triumph, the belas whimpered in sympathy, and Tano’s throbbing dick demanded more. Planting his feet on the mattress, he thrust upward again and again, rocking into the hot clutch of Remin’s ass with needy aggression, sweating and panting while Remin rubbed his aching nipples and urged him on with euphoric, humming cries. “What does it feel like?” Panori’s voice was rich with desire. “To be inside him?” Unh, gods above, “It’s f-f-f-fucking spectacular.” Grunting as he drove upward over and over in eager obedience to his body’s urgent hunger, Tano gripped Remin’s thighs. “Oh, uh, uh, it’s hot and,” fuck, “it’s tight, it’s incredible, ah, ah, the way he moves, oh, he, ah, he’s squeezing me, oh!” Biting his lip, Tano shuddered as pleasure rolled through him. Looking wickedly, almost obscenely smug, Remin shot Panori a look, a “don’t you wish that you were fucking me” look, and Panori gasped out a pained, whining sound, clutching at his own dick. Leaning back, Remin began to ride Tano in earnest, working on Tano’s dick, his hips rolling and bucking and popping in the most marvelous, masterful ways. “Nnh, uh, Tano, I love your dick, I love it, ah!” Taking Tano’s hands from his thighs, Remin threaded their fingers together, supporting his weight on Tano’s hands. Oh, gods above, Tano couldn’t take much more of this. Remin was bouncing and swiveling and writhing on Tano’s erection, hips popping and gyrating. Tano was willing to make a genuine effort to hang on to give Remin a good ride, but any human body had limits, and this wasn’t even fair anymore. Oh, oh! “I’m going to come,” Tano panted, straining to control himself. “I, I can’t, oh, Remin! I’m so close, I, ah, uh!” He was burning with it, shaking with it, he’d explode at any second. “Mmmm, yes,” Remin moaned, undulating, hips in steady motion, still clutching Tano’s hands. He sounded blissful, exultant, ready to soak up Tano’s pleasure as he enjoyed his own. “Come inside me, come in me, give it to me.” That was all of the provocation Tano needed. “Uh, uh,” his back arched as ecstasy shot through him, “ah, ah,” flooded him, “Remin, ah,” kept bombarding him, “oh, ah!” Remin was still riding him relentlessly and, “Ohnn, fuck,” that had

been just what he’d needed. Scrubbing his hands through his hair, Tano groaned from the intense, sizzling pleasure and watched his beautiful, sexy, golden husband. Flushed with desire, tossing his hair, slender body slick with sweat, hips working, Remin was still unsatisfied, and taking care of that was Tano’s first priority. Seizing Remin, Tano rolled them over, pressing Remin’s knees up to his chest. Two belas ducked in for an instant, kissing Tano’s flushed skin and licking up Remin’s sweat and wedging a pillow under Remin’s hips before backing away again. With Remin perfectly poised beneath him, Tano smiled in anticipation, leaning in, planting his hands near Remin’s head on the bed. As Remin looked up at him, saying softly, “I love the way you fuck me,” and stroking his chest, the belas made low, eager sounds, and Tano felt so happy and sexy and powerful he could hardly stand himself. With a swift thrust, he drove in deep, making Remin cry out, and the sound of Remin’s reverberating pleasure was so exciting, so rewarding, Tano did it again, again, again, fuck, yes, he was going to make Remin feel this good every day, every hour, always. “Yes, ah, yes, give it to me! Unh, fuck me, Tano, fuck me, harder!” Gripping his ass, Remin pulled him forward, and Tano obeyed Remin’s carnal command, slamming in more aggressively now, driven to satisfy Remin’s vigorous need. The belas were crawling closer on the bed, fucking each other, moaning and clawing and drawn to Remin’s passion. Being at the center of Remin’s lust and the center of the bela’s attention, Tano wanted to give them all what they wanted, wanted to give them the kind of pleasure they deserved, the kind of sexual ecstasy they gave him. Spreading Remin’s legs wider, he pumped faster, fucking Remin with energy, with determination, until Remin was groaning steadily and twisting wantonly beneath him and the belas were crying out fervently. Tano loved fucking anyone, but he especially loved being able to do this to Remin, share this with Remin, and since Remin couldn’t get this from anyone else, Tano was going to devote himself to fucking Remin well and often. “Oh, huuh, gods above, yes.” Flushed a deep pink, Remin was writhing and arching the way he did when he was ready to come, groaning as if he were undergoing blissful transformation, nails scratching along Tano’s thighs. “Tano, yes, like that, Tano.” Wanting to push him over the edge, wanting to send him into rapture, Tano shifted slightly, thrusting faster, and, “Ah! Yes! Yes, Ta-a-a-aano, oh! Oh! Oh!” Like a glorious reward, ropy white cum spilled in long stripes over Remin’s muscular chest. At the sight of it, Tano slowed down, thrusting more leisurely

inside Remin, gazing down into Remin’s beautifully radiant face as the belas shouted in victory and satisfaction around them. Someone’s cum splattered lightly on Tano’s thigh, and he wiped it up with one finger, licking his fingertip while Remin smirked up at him. “That was amazing,” Tano confessed. “Mmm, yes, you were,” Remin murmured, giving him a sexy, flirty, appreciative look. Tano tossed the pillow aside, and Remin’s legs wrapped snugly around his waist, drawing him in as he continued to thrust slowly. He loved the slide of Remin’s body against his, and he leaned in for a kiss. He loved Remin all of the time, incessantly, devotedly, but sometimes he felt it so profoundly that he had to say it, to give voice to the glowing pressure in his chest. Smoothing sweaty strands of gold back from Remin’s face, he gazed in rapt fascination into Remin’s gleaming, hypnotizing, beautiful eyes. “I love you.” “I love you, too,” Remin whispered, smoothing his eyebrow and smiling at him. This time climax rolled in slowly but powerfully, rippling explosively through his body as he came, shuddering and moaning and wrapped in Remin’s arms.

Part 291 Since Talin had slept in the belam, Anosanim and Ritek had the bed all to themselves that morning. They shared the most rapturous lovesex, then enjoyed a warm, leisurely, wonderfully intimate shower. As they dressed, they talked about last night and how absolutely perfect the wedding had been and how delightfully fun the ball had been. Seated before his vanity, brushing his hair with languorous strokes, Anosanim chatted with Ritek about their plans for the week. The Royal House of Art was hosting a new display of historic quilts that Anosanim had been looking forward to seeing. “Oh, and next month Uriko’s opera debuts! We certainly can’t miss that! He’s had the roughest time casting for it, you know how he is, but it,” and Anosanim caught a glimpse of Ritek’s grimace in the mirror. Oh, no, “What’s wrong?” Swiveling in his seat, Anosanim eyed Ritek with concern. Did Ritek not want to attend the opera? But they’d talked about it; Ritek always enjoyed Uriko’s compositions, and Ritek had agreed with him that the quick plot outline Uriko had hinted at sounded quite interesting. “I’m sorry.” Ritek finished buttoning his shirt and met Anosanim’s eyes, looking guilty and regretful. Worry twisted unpleasantly in Anosanim’s stomach - - what could put that expression on Ritek’s face, was something wrong? - - but he

smiled, trying to look pleasant and understanding. “I won’t be here for the debut. I have to go to Morrain next month, and I’ll be there for a few weeks.” Oh. So soon? Already? But he’d just come back, and - - Anosanim shoved down his questions and his confusion and his plaintive yearning and said, “Oh, yes. All right. It’s a shame that you’ll have to miss it.” He aimed for a bright, breezy tone and a casual, serene smile. “You’re so busy! We’ll have to cram in some good memories before your next trip. What will you be doing in Morrain?” Ritek came and sat down beside him, looking sympathetic, and Anosanim almost pulled away, because he was hurt and he was miserable but he didn’t want to show it, he didn’t want to make Ritek feel bad. He wanted to act as if everything were all right because it was work, he understood work, he understood professional and familial duty. It wasn’t as if Ritek were cheating on him or neglecting him out of careless self-interest. He wanted to be supportive and understanding, and if Ritek had to console him then he’d failed in that. When had Ritek learned him well enough to see through his act? Why was Ritek loving enough not to take the easy way out he’d just offered? “My beautiful prince,” Ritek said, and Anosanim leaned against his broad shoulder. “I’m sorry. You deserve better than this. It’s so hard, I hate having to be away from you so often.” “No, it’s fine,” Anosanim insisted. His voice didn’t sound insistent, it sounded watery, and he straightened, irritated with himself. “It’s fine,” he repeated more firmly now, holding Ritek’s gaze sternly. “I understand.” “You understand it,” Ritek said. “But you don’t like it, and neither do I. This isn’t the kind of relationship you want.” “It’s…” Why was Ritek pushing him on this? Normally Anosanim was happy to discuss his emotions and his relationships, but it didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment. What could they gain from hashing out how unhappy they were with a situation they couldn’t change? Still, if Ritek wanted to have this discussion, Anosanim loved him enough to be honest. “I don’t know how to be in a relationship like this. You’re right, this isn’t how I want it to be. I want time with you, I want to be with you. You’re away so often - - and I respect your work, your work is valuable. I’m not angry with you, I don’t hold any sort of grudge. I just miss you,” he admitted, and Ritek had been right, they did need to talk about this, because he felt better and worse confessing to it like this. “I need more of you, more time with you. I can’t have a boyfriend who’s not right here by my side all of the time. It’s selfish of me but it’s what I need.” “It’s not selfish,” Ritek argued, putting a hand over his. “It’s what you deserve. I hate that I keep leaving you, I hate making you unhappy. You know how much I love you-”

“I know, I know.” He said it quickly because there wasn’t a doubt in his heart. “It’s not about that, I don’t question that. I’m not upset with you, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s the situation.” Taking a deep breath, Ritek curled his fingers around Anosanim’s. “If we were married, I’d make changes. As things stand, I can’t justify it, but if you were my husband, I’d be able to make some compromises and adjustments.” “Oh.” Anosanim touched his necklaces, his throat. “Oh. Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. They’d - - but they hadn’t - - and he’d thought - - although of course - but - - and Talin - - but there was - - “Oh. You, you would?” Ritek’s smile was so charming and so handsome that Anosanim had to embrace him. Holding him close, Ritek said, “For you, yes. I’d do anything for you. If we were married, if you were my husband, I’d change the world for you. I can’t disrupt the company or change the way I do business unless it’s for something as significant as marriage. Even then, there will be several disagreements and issues to resolve, but with work I can make it happen.” He couldn’t just - - marriage was so - - and Talin - - but maybe - - “Maybe we should talk about it.” Everything inside of him was absolutely fluttering! “Maybe we should speak with a priest, get some guidance, see how - - it’s not something we can rush into! Let’s, let’s see if we’re on the right path, or get onto the right path, so that when we’re ready, when it’s time, we’ll be prepared for it. With nothing in our way.” His heart beat wildly and Ritek kissed him in a wonderfully lusty, compelling, possessive way and excitement quickened within him. This was it, this was right, he and Ritek were really speaking openly about marriage and it felt like something they should’ve done long ago. “I don’t want to rush you.” Ritek’s gaze was serious and his touch was tender. “We can wait until you’re ready. Until Talin’s ready, if that’s what you need.” “I want to get ready. I want to work on this and put everything into place so that when it’s time, when everything comes together, we don’t have to figure out anything new. Let’s talk to a priest and find out what we can do to plan for it. We can talk about dealing with your trips and whatever else we need to work on.” Oh, this was so exciting! “I love you, I’m so glad that we’re talking about this!” Ritek kissed him again, whispering, “I love you, too.” “And then you’ll come back to us?” Dunota asked, his eyes wide and hopeful, his lips full and pouting, his hands caressing Tano’s body with slow, needful possession under the robe he’d helped Tano into as if he wanted to take it right off again.

“I will,” Tano said, or tried to say, but Dunota was kissing him again, and his tongue was busy. They made out for a while against the door, and then he fucked Dunota against the door, and Tano loved the way Dunota’s soft, fervent gasps of pleasure sounded so innocent while Dunota’s hungry, demanding body rocked against him with expertise that left him groaning and coming like a savage beast. After they’d fucked, Dunota suggested that he take a shower, and of course Dunota was right, and he could shower in his own apartment but he was already in the belam, so he stayed and took a shower. Dunota and Ileka helped him to wash up, and he helped them to get off, and eventually he was ready to go. Again. At the door, he hesitated, looking across the belam to where Remin slept soundly in a nest of sexy, temporarily sated belas. He trusted Remin, and he trusted the belas, and he knew that nothing would happen. Well, not nothing at all, but nothing that broke the rules. And he’d be right back. It was just that he’d been carefully guarding Remin for a while now, helping Remin not to break the rules, protecting Remin from other men’s aggression when they partnered together, and it was odd suddenly to leave Remin alone in a belam. But Remin was a lot more confident and comfortable now. A lot more at peace, sexually. And the belas were professional, respectful; they wouldn’t have been hired if they couldn’t be trusted to protect the royal family. Dunota gave a light tug to the tie of his dressing gown, kissing his jaw. “We will take care of our golden prince,” Dunota promised. Tano believed him and smiled, quickly kissing his pretty mouth. “Tell him that I’ll be back soon.” In the hallway, Tano took a deep breath, letting it out in helpless laughter. Gods above, could this really be his life now? Between Remin and the belas, he’d never had such a fulfilling, exciting sex life. He’d been celibate, frustratingly and agonizingly celibate. Then he’d been with Remin, but only in a limited fashion, and he’d had to watch himself, guard Remin, police their activities, hold back, not push, not respond. And now marriage had opened a door into a new, fresh world of sexual freedom. He and Remin could do whatever they wanted, however they liked, with no restrictions, no inhibitions, nothing to limit them but their own imaginations. The belas were a fantasy unto themselves, a haven of sexual paradise unlike any inatunin Tano had ever known.

There had been times in Tano’s life when he hadn’t had any sex at all. There had been times when he’d had sex, just not enough of it, never enough of it. Now, he had sex in such abundance, he felt sated, refreshed, blissfully content. And it wasn’t quick, functional sex, either, it was passionate and fun, intensely erotic, and always exciting. Remin was incredible, Remin was perfect, Remin was a living dream. And the belas! Tano couldn’t wait to get back to them, to spend more time with them, to get to know the rest of them. There was always a lot of speculation about the belas, among the citizens. Like, were they really as sexually rewarding as they were rumored to be, or, having been chosen for their obvious beauty, were they simply as good at sex as anyone else? The general consensus was usually that it didn’t matter if they were skilled or not, they looked so good, that was enough. Tano could now confirm that they were every bit as talented and professional as anyone could hope to be. He’d picked up three new tricks last night, himself, and he would’ve learned more if he hadn’t been so busy getting off. Tano had gone from not enough sex, to no sex, to this erotic wonderland of sexual excess. Suddenly he had quality and quantity in fantastic proportions. Belas! Remin! Stepping into his and Remin’s apartment, he took a moment by the door to pray. He had a lot to thank the gods for! Then he moved farther into the apartment, his mind racing ahead. He’d get dressed and run to the kitchen and throw together something for Remin. They’d eaten in the belam, but Tano hadn’t been satisfied with it, on Remin’s behalf. It had been great, for him, but he knew that Remin still must be hungry, and he couldn’t let that happen. He’d make a big breakfast for Remin and the belas, and he’d pack some sandwiches and snacks for later. And then he’d - - wait. Taking a couple of steps back, Tano looked around the apartment, reassessing. He counted the number of doors in front of him. Usually, this bit of wall had a painting, a potted plant, an erotic sculpture, and a bedroom door. Now, it had a painting, a plant, a door, a sculpture, and the bedroom door. There was an extra door. He should get Remin. Backing away, Tano turned and-turned back to face the door again. He should open the door. Yes. Yes, that was right. He should open the door.

Making the sign to the gods, Tano reached out, turning the knob. Marriage counseling! Pre-marriage counseling, really, counseling to prepare them for marriage, to guide them towards a stronger partnership. Hope and excitement fluttered in Anosanim’s heart. He loved Ritek. He hadn’t expected it or planned it, it had just grown between them, a natural blossoming of affection and trust. He’d thought that love would strike with sharp, sudden precision, that it would hit him out of nowhere, that he’d spot someone across a crowded room and suddenly know, down to his soul, that he was meant to love that person forever. He’d even tried to prepare himself for it, imagining himself meeting someone’s eyes across a bustling festival or in a noisy ballroom, thinking of the look he might give or the perfect little phrases he might say. The stories they’d tell their children, years later: “…and when I saw your father standing there, looking so handsome, I just knew. And he smiled at me, and I knew instinctively that he felt it, too, and we’ve never been apart since.” It was the ideal romantic destiny. But life didn’t work that way. It made for a lovely story, but, really, falling in love with someone just based on a good jolt of eye contact? That couldn’t be love, not truly. The way things had developed with Ritek, the natural maturation of love, that was the real romance. Anosanim couldn’t pinpoint the precise moment that he’d fallen in love, because that wasn’t how love worked. It wasn’t an event, it was a process. Was he ready to marry Ritek? Yes! Yes, he was. It felt like the natural next step. They had to wait for Talin, but it seemed right to prepare for marriage. They were in love, they had a marvelous time together, their lovesex was always exciting and satisfying, they got along well with each other’s family, they shared interests. Anosanim couldn’t think of a reason not to get married. He wondered what the priest’s advice would be. Which aspects of their relationship they should work on. Before seeing a priest for the marriage interview, many couples sought counseling to prepare themselves, to learn how to strengthen their relationship, so that there wouldn’t be nasty surprises when they tried to get engaged. Anosanim definitely preferred for the engagement process to go smoothly, and he liked the idea of working on his relationship with Ritek. A good relationship took a lot of work and care, and Ritek was so good to him, such a wonderful boyfriend, he wanted to be sure that he was doing the best he could in return.

“Remin, Remin, you have to see this, wake up, praise the gods, Remin!” Tano sounded so happy and looked so handsome and wide-eyed and energetic, Remin thought that some sort of miracle must have occurred. “What is it?” he asked, pushing himself up and flipping his hair out of his face. At which point he remembered that he was in a belam. Surrounded by belas. Whom he’d spent the entirety of yesterday almost fucking. As his pulse quickened with excitement, Remin turned with a smile to the nearest bela, leaning in for a kiss. “Anosukinom’s been in our apartment,” Tano was saying in the tone of someone practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “I think that he, I mean, it could have been anyone, it’s just - - you have to see it! Remin! Re-” Turning from Satokali to Tano, Remin took a long, burning kiss, cupping Tano’s face in both hands. He’d spent the day in the belam, he’d played with the belas and reconnected with them and enjoyed their attention, he’d fallen asleep sated and happy and safe in the knowledge that he could have more whenever he pleased, and now he was having the long-lost experience of waking up in a belam feeling good and ready for more. He hadn’t had this feeling in years, and Tano had been the one to give him a shot at this life. Sitting back with a pleased sigh, he smiled at Tano. “What’s Kudorin done in our apartment?” Leaning down, Tano kissed him deeply, boldly, cupping the back of his neck and tipping him, oh, nice, mmm. Relaxing back across the mattress, across Sunatam’s lap, Remin curled his arms around Tano, hugging Tano’s hips with his knees. Mmm, yes, he could use a nice, hard fuck. With a ragged breath, Tano dragged himself from Remin’s embrace. He seemed to have decided not to follow through, so Remin let him go, disappointed but curious about whatever he’d been saying earlier. The plump head of Tano’s aroused dick poked out through the folds of his robe, and Remin nudged it with his toes. Catching Remin’s foot in one hand, Tano said, “Shit, you’re distracting. You have to come to our apartment, you have to see this, you’re going to love it. I think that it’s from Anosukinom. Did you know about this? Did he talk to you about it? Did you ask him for it?” Hmm. Indulging himself, Remin relaxed into the affectionate embraces and admiring caresses of his belas. He wanted a quick fuck, but he was having the wondrous experience of not needing it, just wanting it. It would be nice to tug Tano back down and enjoy himself, but he wouldn’t seethe with lust all week if he didn’t seize this opportunity. He’d had a lot of sex yesterday, and he’d get a lot

more in the hours, days, weeks, months, and years to come. He’d fuck Tano in all sorts of positions and places and moods. They’d play with the belas again. In the security of a busy, rewarding sex life, he could let this one go. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told Tano. As he got up, the belas released him with soft kisses. “Ordinarily, if Kudorin’s going to surprise me with something pleasant, he spends the days before it gloating and hinting about it, so I see it coming from miles away.” “I think that we did get hints about it,” Tano said, expression bright with joy. “I just - - come on, you have to see it.” Curious as to what Kudorin had done, what had Tano so happy, Remin sent up a quick, silent inquiry, but Kudorin said nothing in response. The belas helped him into a short, light dressing gown, and he went to his apartment with Tano, trying to guess what Kudorin might have done, what sort of gift Kudorin might have left for them. Then he walked into his apartment and found a kitchen. There was a kitchen in his apartment. A roomy, fully equipped kitchen. “Anoha Anosukinom.” Dazed, he turned to Tano. “You can cook for us here. In our apartment.” “I can cook for us here!” Tano exclaimed, seizing him in a celebratory hug. “It’s a kitchen just for us! I can cook for you without having to go anywhere! It’s like in my dream, in my vision, this is the kitchen I saw!” Oh, gods above, it was a miracle. After they made out against the counter, Remin took Tano’s hands and they prayed, thanking the gods, blessing the kitchen. Then they investigated the kitchen, poking into ovens, opening cupboards, merrily pointing out various features to each other. The pantry was generously stocked, and with predictable alacrity Tano was already cooking, starting fires and tasting ingredients and remarking on how all of the equipment was exactly where he would’ve stored it. A kitchen. It was perfect. A generous, unexpected gift. If asked, Remin would’ve said that they didn’t need any gifts at all, but this was exactly right. It was something that would enhance their lives every day, something he never would’ve thought of. He was touched, and reminded anew how well Kudorin knew them, how greatly Kudorin loved them. It wasn’t as huge and strictly utilitarian as Tano’s more professional kitchen; this was a private kitchen, homey and friendly, a place for family. Aside from the very fact of the kitchen itself, Remin’s favorite part of the new kitchen was the artwork. Along the walls were Talin’s big, vividly colored

paintings of food in the style of Jacacean realism. They were beautiful treasures, and Remin was grateful that his brothers had worked together to provide them with such a thoughtful, generous gift. Tano agreed with him that the paintings were amazing, and repeatedly insisted that they should be removed to somewhere safer, somewhere more deserving. “It took me a while to come back and wake you up because I was standing here staring at them. They’re so inspiring, they make me want to cook even more than I already do. But they’re Prince Talin’s, they’re too valuable to stay here, what if they get damaged or dirty or something? What if I’m responsible for destroying priceless artifacts? History would never forgive me! I’d never forgive myself!” “It looks like they’re encased in some sort of glass,” Remin pointed out. “That’s probably designed to keep it safe.” He knew nothing about art preservation, but he was sure that Talin had already considered the kitchen’s conditions and acted accordingly. “Okay, that’s good, I acknowledge that,” Tano said, stirring rapidly. He put a lot of muscle into it; Remin smiled, inexpressibly fond of him. “But, come on, that’s not just some nice artwork, that’s from Prince Nisutalin! I can’t just keep it in my private kitchen! It should be out on display somewhere!” “It’s hanging in the royal high priest’s private quarters,” Remin said. “How do you feel about that?” “Oh.” Tano started sifting flour. “Well, sure, if you put it that way, it sounds just right. I mean, I wouldn’t begrudge you anything. The royal high priest’s chambers, that’s like storing it in the royal vault or something, who would argue with that?” “Whether he is arrogant or humble, the sun will forever find even the birds and their clouds looking up to him,” Remin said. There were a few chairs stacked against a wall and a few stools by a counter; Remin took a seat, knowing that this would be his customary perch for years to come. “I owe Anosukinom and Prince Talin my thanks,” Tano said. “As well as anyone else who was involved. This really was a fantastic thing to do, this is perfect. I’m going to love getting up and making breakfast for you, being able to cook so close to you.” “I’m going to wake up to the most wonderful scents.” Mmm, he could just imagine it. Rolling over in bed each morning, still sleepy, waking as delicious baking smells drifted into the room. Paradise. “I can make anything you’d like, whenever you want it, without running across the palace,” Tano said. “Even if we’re in the belams, or your brothers’ rooms, I can

skip right over here and whip something up. This is amazing,” he added, looking around again with awe in his eyes. “I had a vision about this kitchen. I was in here, cooking, and you came in, and this was it, this is where we were.” “The gods knew,” Remin said. “Long before we did.” Leaning over the counter, Tano fed him a slice of dried fruit, thick and sweet. “I wonder what other miracles are in our future, that are only a glimmer in Anosukinom’s eye now?” Naturally, Remin was taking a few days off for some private time with Tano. Anosanim and Ritek sat down with Lo Surahet, a long-time priest of Ilanosa. She was quiet and slow, and she’d threaded black ribbons into her hair in the most interesting ways. Anosanim and Ritek sat on a couch together while she clasped her hands in her lap and started the conversation with a brief invocation. Holding hands, Anosanim and Ritek talked to her about their relationship. The messy, confusing way it had begun. Their genuine enjoyment and appreciation of each other. The similarity of their backgrounds and perspectives. The way their differences complemented each other. The compromises they’d made for the sake of their relationship. Their powerful sexual chemistry. They spoke candidly about Talin - - as candidly as Anosanim was willing to speak with someone outside the immediate family - - and the role Talin played in their relationship and why Talin played a role at all. They talked about wanting to get married and why they felt that it was a natural next step and the joy it would bring to their lives. It was a great conversation. Anosanim enjoyed telling Ritek about his side of their relationship - - how much he loved Ritek, and why, and what being with Ritek had done for him - - and he loved hearing Ritek’s side of it, too. It was important to stop and assess from time to time, and Anosanim was glad that Ritek saw their relationship the same way that he did. It made him even more confident that they could figure things out and progress down the path toward marriage together. “Compromises,” Lo Surahet said thoughtfully. “You talk about making compromises in your work life to prioritize your marriage.” She spoke in a plodding fashion as if she were making her way methodically through each sentence. “How precisely do you envision those compromises occurring?” “Oh, specifics, yes,” Anosanim said. “Well, for my part, I would want to schedule time to be with Ritek, separate from other distractions. Dinners and outings. Maybe weekends in Satatunin or visits to his family’s estates. It’s important for me to plan time with Ritek into my days and weeks so that he doesn’t feel that he has to compete with my work or my brothers for my attention.”

“I’ve given it a lot of thought.” Ritek smiled at Anosanim before directing his remarks to Lo Surahet. “Currently, the plan is for me to take over operations in Ilaeia while overseeing new projects in Morrain and Mannillea. That would necessitate establishing a primary residence abroad, which I’m in no hurry to do. Marriage to Prince Anosanim would give me enough leverage to negotiate, and I can trade the position for more domestic work. I can buy and correspond and trade here, in Orina Anoris, while one of my cousins or sisters moves to Ilaeia.” What?! He’d never said anything about that! Ilaeia and Morrain and Mannillea?! How could he not have discussed this? Anosanim’s thoughts tumbled quickly over the news. “That’s an awfully exciting opportunity.” To put it lightly. “Are you sure that you have to turn it down?” “I can still have a hand in the company from here,” Ritek said. “I can’t be your husband from Mannillea.” Well, that was true, but, oh. Suddenly, Anosanim could see why Ritek hadn’t talked about it before now. As confusion and frustration plucked anxiously at Anosanim, he tried to focus on the conversation in front of him. Lo Surahet made a thoughtful noise. “All things being equal, if marriage weren’t a factor, which direction would you prefer for your career to take?” “I don’t mind being honest,” Ritek said. “The position in Ilaeia is what I’ve been working towards all of my life. It’s the work I always envisioned myself undertaking, and I would find it very rewarding and challenging. But it doesn’t compare to life with Prince Anosanim. And I plan to make the most of whatever I do here. I’ll find ways to make it more fulfilling.” He grinned. “I’m not afraid to get creative.” Troubled, Anosanim wondered if they’d were getting ahead of themselves. “I don’t know if I can let you make that kind of sacrifice for me.” “Think of it as a sacrifice I’m making for myself,” Ritek suggested. “For my own future and my own happiness.” “But your happiness is more than me. There’s your sense of accomplishment, your sense of identity, your competitive drive, the pride you take in your work. Is there another way around this? Some other compromise to make?” “Your position won’t let you come to Ilaeia with me,” Ritek said. “I have to stay in Orina Anoris to be with you. There’s no real alternative here.” “You mentioned others who might take your place,” Lo Surahet said. “What are their plans for the future as things stand?”

“My sisters are spearheading our expansion into Swoven and Lorbain, one of my cousins is preparing a ten-year marketing campaign, and my youngest sister has just entered college to study design. She plans to study in several different countries, including Jacacea now, for a well-rounded perspective.” “These career decisions come with major life changes for you and for your potential replacement,” Lo Surahet said, as if that weren’t exactly what they were talking about. “Tell me more about the two positions you’re deciding between.” Ritek delved into detail, and Anosanim found himself increasingly conflicted. As he’d thought, the job in Ilaeia was ideal for Ritek. Buying, charming, setting fashion standards, dining with the artistic elite, it sounded like the most wonderful job in the world for Ritek. The work was tailored for someone smart and driven and intensely fashion-conscious who liked being pampered and enjoyed making tough decisions and knew how to cut a ruthless deal while still keeping everyone happy. The work left for him in Orina Anoris was little more than keeping track of inventory and balancing books and doing a lot of tasks Ritek’s family already had well in hand. Ritek’s genius would be wasted if he stayed. “I can’t,” Anosanim said, throwing up his hands. “I can’t let you do this, I can’t encourage it, I can’t permit it, I can’t stand by and let it happen, I can’t. If you were someone else maybe it wouldn’t matter as much but I know you, I know how you thrive on your work, I know-” “Prince Anosanim,” Ritek said, taking his hand and lowering it. “It’s not up to you. This is a decision I’m making for myself.” “What do you want?” Lo Surahet asked. “How do you envision the future of your relationship?” “I want to be with him,” Anosanim said helplessly. “I want for us to be together. But I want Ritek to be happy, too.” “We will be together,” Ritek promised him. “I will be happy, with you. If I have to make some compromises, that’s what it takes.” “And you’re meeting with the architects immediately afterward,” Kikarin added. Right. “You’ll have my pieces there on time,” Talin said, as she followed him into his office. “Yes, they’re already packed and ready.” Placing his correspondence on his desk, she set down a small, covered basket as well. “From the palace.” From Anosanim? Talin removed the cloth to find carefully wrapped sandwiches around an elegant cake frosted with chocolate and studded with cherries and

nuts. Ah, from Tano. Smiling, he found a note. Written in Remin’s elegant hand, it said simply, “Thank you.” They’d strayed far enough from the belams to find the kitchen, then. Noticing Kikarin eyeing the basket with interest, he handed her a sandwich. “Thanks.” She gave the basket another look, then grinned. “You’re not going to eat that whole cake by yourself, are you?” “It was a gift,” he pointed out. “It would be rude of me not to finish it.” Then, relenting, he grinned. “I’ll save you some.” As Kikarin left, closing the door, Talin dropped into the chair behind his desk. Skeptically eyeing the stack of letters in front of him, he unwrapped a sandwich. Sitting back, he took a bite. “Oh, that’s delicious,” Kudorin said, voicing his thoughts, drawing a chair up beside his desk. Swallowing, Talin smiled at Kudorin, glad that Kudorin had decided to pop in on him. “You came for the cake, didn’t you?” “It’s a thank you gift for the kitchen,” Kudorin said. “I deserve at least half. He packed utensils and plates! Tano’s so considerate.” “It’s a thank you gift for the paintings,” Talin argued. “Which are spectacular.” Slicing the cake into generous portions, Kudorin set a plate before Talin. “They’re beside themselves with glee over the kitchen. We did good work.” To be fair, “It was all your work and your idea.” “It wouldn’t look one-fifth as good without your paintings. And who but my brothers, including my Nisutalin, inspired the idea? Your brotherhood, your love, your consideration, your generosity, that’s what inspires and motivates me. I wouldn’t be nearly as good a brother if it weren’t for you, Talin.” Embarrassed, Talin grinned. He took another bite, then swallowed and confessed, “Same here.” Coming back from the gym, where he’d done his very best to bless and inspire the wrestling team, Rini felt like spreading more hope and cheer. On a whim, he took a stroll around the stables, making new friends and catching up with old friends and handing out candy and making out with a couple of young women in an empty carriage.

Everyone agreed that Remin and Tano’s wedding had been a great event. Everyone had a disappointed son, cousin, or friend who was distraught over missing out on his chance at Remin. Rini mentioned a few times that he was always available to counsel those young men and help them to get over their dashed hopes. He was very good at cheering people up. He was making out with another new friend behind the old carriage house when he heard a sudden clanking, crashing sound. Distracted, concerned, he broke the kiss, but his partner said, “Prince Anosanim’s working in there.” Figuring that whatever it was, Anosanim would have it under control, Rini got back to making out. When he’d finished enjoying himself, though, he parted from his new friend and went to see what Anosanim was up to. They called it the old carriage house not because the building was old but because the carriages were. The oldest, shakiest pharaonic carriages were stored there until people took them out to fix them up or put them in a museum or break them down for parts. Anosanim had probably brought a crew in to look things over and decide what to salvage. They could be donated to citizens in need after a little work. To his surprise, when Rini stepped inside, he didn’t see anyone. Certainly no team of workers crawling around assessing things. Maybe they’d left and he hadn’t noticed. But then why had they left the lamps on? Maybe they were coming back. They’d left tools and disassembled carriage parts sitting around. Hearing a creak and a clank, he looked more closely at the carriages. “Hello? Hi, it’s Prince Rini. You need any help?” Not that he knew much about the mechanics of carriage construction, but he was decent at following orders. There was a scrap of orange visible through a carriage window. Someone’s shoulder. Orange, sure, one of Anosanim’s workers. Glancing down, Rini saw a foot. A foot in a slinky little shoe with a four-inch heel. Rini wasn’t close enough to see, but he was sure that was a very pretty foot with a lovely orange manicure. “Anosanim?” “I asked not to be disturbed.” What? That was definitely Anosanim, but he sounded so sharp and irritated that Rini wondered if it might be someone else entirely. Anosanim hadn’t responded to Rini’s first greeting, and that wasn’t like him at all. Fine, then, if Anosanim was going to act annoyed over a simple hello, Rini would go. Hurt and confused, Rini turned to leave. If he’d wanted to be treated like an unwanted intruder, he could’ve gone to Talin’s office.

As quickly as he’d turned to go, though, Rini turned back. Something had to be wrong, really wrong, for Anosanim to act like this. “Are you okay?” Circling around the old carriages, he navigated until he’d made his way to Anosanim’s side. “I’m fine. I’m busy.” Without even bothering to glance at him, Anosanim hammered at the side of the carriage like the door deserved to be punished. Staring, Rini wondered what in the world was going on. He didn’t have to be Selorin to know that Anosanim was lying about being fine. He was dressed like he was going out on a date, with tight, pale apricot pants and a long, gauzy, ruffled, partially transparent top, and those four-inch heels, and some really nice jewelry. That was all perfectly normal for Anosanim, but Anosanim didn’t dress like that for manual labor. He hadn’t even tied back his hair; it was down and loose in thick, abundant waves, and it was starting to get a little limp, the strands at his temples wet with sweat. He was sweating through his nice clothes, and there were grease stains on his pants. Rini stared at Anosanim’s thigh in disbelief. Dirt and sweat were part of Anosanim’s work, but he’d never ruin his nice clothes like this. And for what, to mess around with some carriages no one cared about? “Um.” What was happening here? “So, have you talked to Talin today?” It had to be about Talin. “No, no.” Anosanim shook his head, then pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and left a little smear of grease on his forehead and got right back to work, banging and clanging, like it didn’t matter. “I can’t talk to him right now, I don’t want to upset him. I’ll talk to him when it’s - - when I have it all sorted out.” “Upset him?” Rini wished that Anosanim would stop beating up on that defenseless carriage and talk to him. “What’s going on?” “Nothing, it’s fine, Ritek and I just have some decisions to make and it’s… They’re not easy choices.” Anosanim wrenched the door away from the carriage with his bare hands. “It’ll be fine, we love each other enough to work this out, we have time to figure out what’s best.” Rini wasn’t used to seeing Anosanim upset like this, and he wanted it to stop. “Is Ritek okay? I thought that things were great with you guys.” “Things are great,” Anosanim said way too sharply, setting down the door. “Ritek’s fine.” He shoved his hair back again and left a streak of grease through it. “We’re trying to make decisions about our future, decisions that are best for everyone, and it’s hard, it involves a lot of compromise.” He shook his head, pain breaking across his face. “Not just compromise, sacrifice. Sacrifice that I don’t want him to feel that he has to make. Oh, Extra,” and Anosanim looked wounded, sounded distraught. Hurt for him, worried about him, Rini hugged him, and

Anosanim hugged back tightly, making a choked, gasping noise. “I love him, I didn’t even expect to fall for him and now I love him so much, and I don’t want him to do this, I can’t let him walk away from everything for me.” With another choked sound, Anosanim started to cry, and Rini held him and tried to make comforting sounds, feeling awful. Anosanim was in distress and couldn’t even talk to Talin about it. “It’ll be okay, you’ll figure it out. You’ll be okay,” Rini promised, patting Anosanim’s back. “You and Ritek are smart, you’ll come up with something. I’ll help, we’ll all help. What are you making sacrifices about, what’s Ritek walking away from?” Pulling out a handkerchief, Anosanim drew away from Rini. Dabbing at his eyes and wiping at his nose, he leaned against the carriage and, glancing down at himself, seemed to notice the grease and sweat for the first time. With a distraught moan, he looked at Rini in despair. “Alanohi forgive me, look at this, I’m a mess.” Okay, that was more like it. “Here, sit down, I’ll fix your hair.” Being groomed would make Anosanim feel better. As Anosanim sat down with a miserable sigh, Rini smoothed his hair back from his face, finger-combing it. “Start from the beginning.” While Rini braided Anosanim’s hair, Anosanim explained everything. Wanting to get married but hoping to get Talin settled first. Wanting to spend more time with Ritek and trying to be reasonable about the demands of Ritek’s work. Wanting to respect Ritek’s career and figure out a solution that didn’t necessitate Ritek giving up everything for him. “I don’t know what to do.” Anosanim sniffled. “He thinks that it’s straightforward. If we’re ever going to spend any time together, one of us has to make a major change, and I’m unable to walk away from my duties, so he’s going to walk away from his. But his work means so much to him. He says that he can create a good position here and make the most of it, but it’s not the same. It would never really compare.” “What if he goes ahead and moves to Ilaeia?” Rini asked. Finished with his task, he left a long, fat braid down Anosanim’s back and came around to sit beside him on the discarded carriage seat. “He’d spend all of his free time in Morrain and Mannillea. We’d never see each other. We’d be stuck sending letters, mailing gifts. I could go out there to live with him when Kudorin’s children come of age, but that won’t be for another twenty, thirty years. And that would mean Talin moving to Ilaeia. He’d do it for me, but after decades of being the royal artist, I don’t think that Talin’s going to want to live in Ilaeia, of all places.”

Rini didn’t want to be rude, but, “Talin doesn’t have to live there with you. He might settle down somewhere else, or stay here, and visit you.” The look Anosanim gave him, baffled and scolding, shut him up, and he closed his mouth. Sighing, Anosanim tried for a fifteenth time to scrub the grease from his pants. “If Ritek moves to Ilaeia, that’s the best future for him, but it’s not best for us as a couple. I can’t be in a relationship like that. It’s not fair of me or generous of me or loving of me, but I can’t have a boyfriend I’m not with all of the time. If I were a better person, if I were-” “It’s not about being a better person,” Rini argued. “You can’t start blaming yourself. People have different needs, people want different kinds of relationships. You want one where you’re together a lot. Some people would hate having someone else around that much.” “I don’t want to be the person who disrupts Ritek’s career.” Anosanim crumpled his handkerchief, then shook it out and tried to fold it neatly. “I don’t want to be the one he has to make this sacrifice for.” “I guess it’s different when it’s real,” Rini said. “That sounds like the kind of romantic notion you’d swoon for. Ritek being so deeply in love with you that he gives up everything to be with you. Isn’t that the kind of love you want?” Surrounded by artists in red and assistants in orange, Talin explained the concept of show cakes as he finished setting his examples on the table. He showed them the models he’d already made, a building of grass and stalks and shoots, a building of jeweler’s wire and gemstones. He wanted them to make their own constructions with non-traditional materials, cooperating together, his people working on the aesthetics while Anosanim’s people oversaw the physics and functionality. He’d already arranged for a small team to visit an archaeological dig to assemble a traditional Anorian house using broken pottery shards from the area. The project had everyone excited and inspired, and they started to brainstorm together, coming up with ideas for where to find materials and what they might build. As they sorted themselves into partnerships, someone asked Talin where Anosanim was. “It’s a shame for him not to be here.” Frankly, Talin had expected Anosanim to stop by. They hadn’t made definite plans, but it was the sort of meeting Anosanim would make time for. “He’s probably on site today.” Someone shot him a surprised glance. “No, not today. I just came from the site, and he hasn’t been there all day.”

“Really?” someone else asked. “He hasn’t stopped by his office all day. We assumed that he was with you.” Talin wasn’t going to worry about Anosanim. He was just going to find Anosanim and satisfy his curiosity. Kudorin had noticed his father and Bade’s father going for a walk around the grounds together. They talked of this and that, touching on politics, on travel, on Remin and Tano’s wedding, on childrearing. They were both very proud of their children and eager to swap parenting tales, telling stories of their sons’ adolescent mishaps and achievements. Despite being the children of gods and therefore in less danger from general mayhem, Sanuk’s sons hadn’t done all that much to test the limits of the gods’ protection. There had been the general mischief of taking risks with horses, with the river, with jumping off of things they shouldn’t have been on in the first place. Mindo’s sons, however, had the added fascination of the mountains. “What was that like?” Kudorin asked, joining them in mid-stride on their stroll. His arm around his father’s waist, he looked at Mindo with great interest. “Watching them put themselves in danger and knowing that you couldn’t save them if something went wrong?” “Anosukinom.” Mindo’s beard twitched with mirth; he liked Kudorin’s habit of popping in and out. Now that they knew and understood each other better, they got along very well. When he was in Orina Anoris, Mindo stayed very mindful of Kudorin’s omnipresence, and often - - when Kudorin was physically somewhere else entirely - - would give Kudorin a look or toss Kudorin a thought or even make some remark aloud. Outside of intimate moments, which of course Kudorin respected, Mindo treated Kudorin like a silent presence in any room and privately acknowledged him. In Mindo’s mind, it was only common sense, and it would’ve been foolish to pretend as if Kudorin couldn’t see and hear everything. He didn’t think much of the people who tried to gossip behind Kudorin’s back. For his part, Kudorin enjoyed the little looks Mindo shot him and occasionally whispered something in reply. “It was good for them,” Mindo said. “Let them test themselves, learn their limits, solve their own problems. A man has to know that he can rely on himself.” “You weren’t worried about them?” Kudorin asked. “If you let yourself fret over every little thing your children do, you’ll work yourself into an unending fit,” Mindo said. Then he reassessed his audience and snorted through his mustache. “You’ll be able to protect your children, but most of us

have to trust in the gods, hope for the best, and try to teach them some sense. It toughened me up quick, watching my boys race off on their own. But Tiko’s always been smart enough to think a situation through first, and at least the twins had each other. I always figured that if one of them got too far up the mountain, the other one could help him down.” “I’m glad that we don’t have any mountains around here,” Sanuk said as they ambled onward. “We wouldn’t have been able to keep Desin or Rini off of them.” “Climbing the mountain is a good test of will,” Mindo said. “It’s not about competing against another man, it’s a struggle against the mountain itself, a struggle against yourself. Builds character.” “You’ve tried to scale it, yourself,” Sanuk guessed with a knowing grin, and Kudorin smiled at the rush of Mindo’s memories. Mindo harrumphed. His beard twitched. “A few times. In my younger days.” Sanuk shook his head. “Not many governments I know where they’d let the future monarch risk his life like that. Too easy to be killed or maimed.” “You might say that our bloodline’s made of sterner stuff,” Mindo said. “We may be royalty, but we won’t faint at a little hard work. We reared our boys to think for themselves and look out for each other. These young princes running around like spoiled pets with as little sense as a handful of wool, it makes you wonder what the plan is. Gods forbid it and Grengar look over us, but any of my boys could take over the throne if they had to.” “You’re right to prepare them for it,” Sanuk said. “It’s a good education for them, whatever happens. I guess some other rulers assume that it won’t come to that, so they put everything into the firstborn. Doesn’t say much for what they think of the rest.” “You had the advantage,” Mindo said. “Knowing from the start where your boys would end up.” “Wasn’t much work getting them there, either,” Sanuk said. “Talin gave us the most worry. Anorik told us that he’d work it out when the time came to it, but nothing in this world can convince Eleita not to fret when she’s put her mind to it.” He chuckled, smiling. “As usual, Anorik was right all along.” Mindo grunted. “Sounds like my wife. Took me a while to figure it out, but eventually I learned to listen to the woman the first time. The energy I wasted, not taking her advice.”

“It’s an old Mannillean saying,” Kudorin said. “Always marry someone smarter than you are. I have something of an unfair advantage now, but when we were growing up, Anikira was much smarter than I was.” “And here we all thought that you married the Jacacean for his looks,” Mindo muttered into his beard. Kudorin burst into laughter. If Anosanim wasn’t working and wasn’t with Talin, where was he? The only answer which came to mind was Ritek, so Talin went to Ritek’s house, Ritek’s store and office, and Ritek’s sister’s chocolate shop. At the last destination, he was told that Ritek had meetings all afternoon. He went home to the palace. Anosanim’s quarters were empty, and the bed was untouched, but Anosanim had been there recently to shower and change. Annoyed with playing detective, Talin tried his own quarters and the belams. Two blowjobs later, he still hadn’t found Anosanim. He went to Anosanim’s office. When he looked in, he found Anosanim sitting at his desk, sketching. It should’ve been an ordinary sight, but Anosanim was slumped tiredly, dejectedly, sketching without energy, so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Talin’s approach. Ordinarily pretty hard to miss, being so vividly red, Talin walked right up to Anosanim’s desk and looked down to see what he was drawing. The Ilaeian national flag? “What’s going on with you today?” Head snapping up, Anosanim gasped. “Talin.” An instant later, Talin had an armful of weeping, sniffling Anosanim. Gods above, what the fuck? “What is it?” Talin asked, sitting on the edge of Anosanim’s desk and gathering Anosanim close. He was torn between striking out furiously at whoever had hurt Anosanim like this, and hunkering down protectively to make sure that Anosanim was all right. Clinging to him and crying on his shoulder, Anosanim sounded distraught, and Talin’s heart couldn’t take it. “What’s wrong?” He had to know what to fix or what to destroy. “Oh, Nisutalin,” Anosanim sobbed, heavy against his chest. “I love you.” Kissing his mother’s cheek, Bade bid his parents good night. He was just about to turn with Vade towards the door when his father’s eyebrows twitched. Bade fell still and Vade drifted closer again, quietly attentive. “I was talking with Anosukinom today,” his father said. “He mentioned that,” Vade said.

“He did?” Bade asked. He couldn’t help but feel a little glimmer of pride; he liked the thought of his family hanging out with Anosukinom, even receiving more of Anosukinom’s attention than other guests. Especially since only a few years ago they’d had no hope of interacting with Anosukinom at all. “Yeah, he said that he can’t wait until Tiko’s beard is as glorious as Father’s is.” Vade grinned, stroking his own chin. “I’d like to think that I could grow a respectable beard, myself.” The idea of Vade with a full, bushy beard made Bade smile. It would be convenient if Vade grew one; then Bade could see what he’d look like with facial hair, without having to grow it out, himself. Maybe he could get Vade to sport a mustache. The older Bade got, the more he thought that it really was time for him to grow some sort of facial hair. He was an adult now, a married man. Shaving every day made him seem awfully vain, didn’t it? Then again, he’d look even more foreign among all of these smooth-cheeked Anorians if he had a beard. “He told me how glad he is to have us visit and how much he enjoys your company. Not just this one,” his father’s hand landed heavily on Bade’s shoulder, “but all three of my sons.” His father looked at him intently, then at Vade. Bade had always admired the intensity of his father’s penetrating, regal gaze. It was so kingly, he’d grown up wondering if it were passed down with the crown. “I reared my sons with the hope that they would find favor with Grengar. I wished for you to serve and please the gods. And now this divine Anosukinom loves you and calls you his family, his brothers.” His father’s hand squeezed, shaking him slightly. “I’m proud of you.” Pretending that his eyes weren’t misting over, Bade swallowed. “Thank you.” “Oh, that’s all, it’s Bade, mostly,” Vade said. “He doesn’t like you because of me, he likes you because of you,” Bade argued. Blushing, Vade scowled at Bade, visibly embarrassed and wishing that Bade would shut up. “If we’re in any way pleasing to the gods, it’s because of your work and your example,” Bade told his father. “Both of you,” he added, glancing at his mother. The way she was smiling at him, so pleased and proud, made him nervous, and he clasped his hands behind his back so that he wouldn’t start fidgeting with pillows or something equally useless. His father hugged him, a brisk, tight embrace, and gruffly said, “I’m proud of you,” again. Then his father hugged Vade and said, “Yes, I’m proud of you, too,” and Bade stared very hard at a portrait on the wall so that he wouldn’t risk looking at Vade and doing something stupid like bursting into tears.

Out in the hallway, they cleared their throats and walked together in silence. Then Vade said, “I wonder how proud of you he’d be if he knew that you were playing pimp for our citizens,” and Bade casually pushed Vade into the wall, and Vade laughed, and everything was back to normal.

Part 292 Gods above. Tano had expected some very handsome gifts - - for the occasion of the royal high priest’s wedding, only the best would do - - but he hadn’t expected so many! Tables were covered with valuables, with larger gifts like furniture and artwork crowding the walls. Living in the palace, Tano had gotten used to being surrounded by luxury and finery, but here was another whole museum’s worth of treasures. With Remin right behind him, Tano stepped deeper into the room, staring around himself at vases and figurines and gorgeously bound books. There was enough gold in the room to restock mines. What were they going to do with it all? That wasn’t really a question Tano had to answer, himself. The Seven Siblings had a servant for every task, so there would be people taking care of cataloging the gifts and sending Remin’s notes of thanks. There would also be people to put the gifts into various kinds of storage or up for display somewhere. Remin could take whatever he wanted for his personal use, and Tano looked over the gifts, trying to guess what Remin might like to keep. He wasn’t sure, exactly, what a lot of it was. A lot of these gifts from foreigners had some deep cultural or religious significance that he wasn’t aware of, significance that even Remin wasn’t necessarily aware of, which was why Remin had asked for someone from Orinakin’s office to join them and answer questions. As they waited for someone dressed in purple to arrive, Remin looked around with a slight frown. “Gifts are tokens of affection and esteem,” Tano told him. “Don’t glare at them, think of them as a sign of how great Anosukinom’s influence is, that his high priest is so well-respected as to be given such bounty.” Remin crossed his arms over his chest, glowering at a table. “If King Grevet had spent less money on that timepiece and more on his citizens, maybe his bishops wouldn’t speak to me of their impoverished parishioners wasting away on the church steps for lack of medicine. Affection and esteem?” Remin’s eyes flashed with anger, and was it merely Tano’s imagination or had the light just flickered? “If people had more affection and esteem for their fellow human beings, for their fellow citizens, for the people directly affected by their behavior, they wouldn’t lavish riches on someone already supremely blessed while their citizens and

neighbors are burdened with poverty and want. If they truly cared about Anosukinom, they would know of his message, of his love, of his priorities, and they wouldn’t spend coins gained in war and plunder on a wealthy, foreign prince while their people struggle to recover from loss and violence. They don’t offer me gifts out of respect for me or devotion to Anosukinom, they do it out of selfinterest, seeking to flatter the gods as mischievous children smile prettily at adults to avoid reprimand and punishment.” “That’s a terrible way to look at the world!” Aghast, Tano couldn’t let Remin keep an idea so dark in his heart. “That’s not even true, not of most of these gifts or the people they came from. A few, maybe, I don’t know, maybe King Grevet thinks that way, but look at all of this! These gifts came from people who know and love you, who want to celebrate your happiness and mark your wedding. A lot of these are from family and friends, from other religious leaders who admire and respect you. All of those priests and shaman and seers and monks and princes and duchesses I’ve been introduced to, their gifts are in here, and you consider them friends. The people you trade letters with, sharing ideas on spirituality and theology and leadership, their gifts are in here. And Anosukinom doesn’t accept gifts, everyone knows that, so this is a great way to offer some sort of tribute, don’t you think? Honoring his high priest and brother?” For a moment, Remin kept glaring at the tables, but then his shoulders relaxed. Tano felt better at the sight; he couldn’t bear for Remin to think poorly of humanity. Turning to him, Remin hugged him, sighing, and he wrapped Remin in his embrace. “You’re right. I let my guilt become resentment, and it was wrong of me.” He could understand why other people might question why the imbalance of living in wealth while others struggled in poverty, and might want to scatter jewels in the streets to share their blessings with others, but he still didn’t really know why Remin thought that way. The Seven Siblings were the children of the gods, bearing the marks of their divine parentage visible for all to see. Of course they lived differently from other people; of course they deserved only the best. Tano had grown up without a lot of coins in his pockets or fancy clothes on his back, and he’d never, for an instant, resented the Seven Siblings their wealth and luxuries. His grandmother had nothing to spare but her own hard work, and she hadn’t looked covetously upon Sanuk’s finery when he’d passed through their village. Anorians took pride in the jewels glittering on their royalty’s fingers. Anosukinom understood that - - Anosukinom understood everything, including and especially Anorians - - but Remin had trouble reconciling his own lavish lifestyle with the hardships he saw around him. “I can’t hand nice things to Alanohi. I can’t bake a cake for Itanoka and watch Itanoka eat it and get any

pleasure from Itanoka’s enjoyment of it. The best we can do is present gifts to their human representatives, their children and their priests. You’re Inanodu’s child and we love you for it. You’re Anosukinom’s brother and we love you for it. You serve Odanoru and we love you for it. I’ve actually had people, real people, walk right up to me and tell me that they were as happy for your wedding as they were for their own. People are having celebrations and parties and feasts in their own homes to honor your wedding. You love Prince Desin, you’d give him anything and do anything for him. You know how we feel. People are careless sometimes, we’re thoughtless and rude and impatient sometimes, so when we are loving and generous and affectionate and thoughtful, we should encourage and appreciate it, shouldn’t we?” Remin’s smile was so warm and fond and enchanting, Tano smiled back, charmed. “My Tano,” Remin murmured, kissing him lightly, a delicate brush of lips that made Tano’s heartbeat stutter. “So kind and so wise.” “We all love you so much,” Tano whispered, kissing him back, drawn to the lush softness of his lips. He felt them before he saw them. Nearing the room where Remin and Tano’s gifts were on display, Orinakin felt a pulse of warm affection, felt a stripe of sexual heat shiver up his spine. Smiling, pleased that the newlyweds were enjoying themselves, he continued forward through an increasingly dense fog of lust and arousal to find Remin and Tano in the room, against a table, making out with such focused intensity he was surprised that their clothes hadn’t melted off from the heat. Remin’s hands cupped Tano’s face, caressing Tano’s handsome features, while Tano’s hands cupped and squeezed Remin’s ass as it if felt even better than it looked. Orinakin would’ve strolled around the room looking over the gifts to give them a moment to enjoy each other, but they were exuding such white-hot sex that he was already helplessly turned on, and if they kept going he’d embarrass himself. Striding closer, he took Remin’s arm and pulled, trying to guide Remin away. “You had some questions about your gifts?” Remin brushed Orinakin aside, kissing Tano’s neck. Tano gave Orinakin a puzzled look at first, then smiled happily. “Prince Orinakin!” With one arm around Remin, he hugged Orinakin briefly with the other arm. “You didn’t have to come, we didn’t mean to ask for you. We just wanted to ask one of your assistants a few questions about what all of these gifts are, or what they represent.”

“I don’t mind. You two have been so busy adjusting to married life, this is a nice excuse to spend a moment with you. Besides, it gives me a break between meetings.” Snorting, Remin lifted his head. “Adjusting to married life.” He smiled, tucking Orinakin’s hair behind his ear with a light touch. “Always so diplomatic, our Orinakin. You can call it fucking nonstop, we won’t mind. The truth is no insult.” “I’m just glad to see you so happy with each other, it feels wonderful,” Orinakin said, kissing Remin’s cheek. “Was there a particular item you had questions about?” “There are a few things we don’t recognize,” Remin said. “For the most part, we’re simply curious. The artwork, the decorations, we wonder if there’s cultural significance to these things or if some are simply aesthetically pleasing. I pride myself on being culturally literate, but I don’t want to miss out on symbolism or decorate my office with something inappropriate.” “I certainly can help you with that.” Even with a swift glance around the room, Orinakin felt his mind expanding. As his gaze touched on objects, his ancestors’ knowledge blossomed into his consciousness. He was glad that he’d come to see Remin himself; as always, even his most well-educated assistant knew but a pale shadow of the wealth stored in his brain. “That certainly is interesting. There are a number of gifts here with great history and meaning. Would you mind if I asked Bade and Vade to join us?” They’d both love the stories and information Orinakin had to share, and he knew how Anorian excess fascinated Vade. “That would be great,” Tano said. “It’s so nice of you to help us. Keeping some little figurine on the mantel can make a room look nicer, but it’s so much better if you actually know what it’s for and where it’s from.” So true. As Orinakin went to the chalkboard by the door, he said, “When Bade and Vade get here, I’ll tell you about how as generations and rulers changed, a weapon of assassination lost its cultural significance and was treated as a simple object of art, until it was set on display by a proud and unwitting baron who considered it a pretty little trifle and had no idea that it had been used to kill his great-grandfather and spark the revolution that stole the throne from his family.” Tano’s tone was admiring. “You know the most fascinating histories.” Remin laughed. “Anoha Okanoti, Orinakin knows all of the histories. We used to ask our aunt, Riturihi, to tell us boring stories to put us to sleep. She’d recount dull tales of reigns where nothing of note happened at all. Times of peace and good health do not stimulate children’s minds as energetically as times of strife and unrest.”

“The Great Uprising for Wheat,” Orinakin remembered, laughing. “When the peasants stormed the castle gates demanding lower taxes on wheat. Except that there were only a dozen peasants involved, and they carried no weapons, and the king acquiesced before nightfall. She made that story stretch out into an hour-long tale where nothing happened at all. Extra never stayed awake long enough to hear how it ended. Most of our cousins, even now, couldn’t tell you whether the king lowered taxes or not.” “I always wondered why it was called the Great Uprising for Wheat,” Remin said. “Such an odd and lofty title. But I suppose that defying and approaching the king feels like quite a momentous and dangerous feat to a small band of farmers, no matter how it goes.” Curled up on Ritek’s sofa, Anosanim rubbed the divine mark on the back of his hand. Devastatingly handsome and so very wonderful, Ritek shifted closer beside him, one thickly muscled arm along the back of the sofa. “Seeing you so quiet and solemn is breaking my heart, Anosanim. What can I do to make you feel better about this?” “I’ve been thinking about you all day. How much I love you and how much it means to be with you and how we can make this work.” He hadn’t been able to think about anything else. “I know how great this sacrifice is and I’m overwhelmed by how much you’re willing to give up for me. I know what it’s like to love someone, really love him, love him so much you’ll do anything for him. Absolutely anything. I’d drag the moons from the sky for Talin. I feel that in my heart and I know it in my mind, too. It’s not just an emotion or a whim or a desire, it’s a very real and gritty and undeniable fact. I would do anything for Talin.” Nodding, Ritek caressed his cheek, an unbearably tender touch. “Then you understand how I feel about you.” Gods above, help them both through this. “When I look at you, when you hold me, when I think of you while we’re apart, I feel as if I’d do anything for you. I want to embrace our love and commit to you. I feel like yes, of course, of course I’d abandon everything for you.” He had to say it, he had to be honest, it would be a larger betrayal if he didn’t admit it. “But I wouldn’t actually do it.” As Ritek’s black eyebrows drew together, Anosanim rushed forward, wanting to explain. “There’s something holding me back. I feel it, I love you, I want to do anything for you, but I don’t trust myself to do it. If it came right down to it, if I were forced into a corner, I really think that I might turn coward or try to compromise or find another way.” He hated himself, he hated that he was so weak and selfish. He

was hurting a good, wonderful, perfect man who loved him enough to give up everything. “Gods above, I can’t forgive myself for this.” “You don’t love me as much as I love you.” Ritek swallowed, his jaw clenching, and Anosanim surged forward, embracing him. Ritek’s arms were strong and tight around him and he didn’t want to let go. “We can-” “We can’t,” Anosanim whispered, his voice breaking along with his heart. “Ritek, you deserve so much better than this, you deserve someone so much better than I am. I can’t ask you to make sacrifices for me when I wouldn’t make the same sacrifices for you. I can’t stay with you, I can’t possibly marry you if I don’t love you that much. It’s so brutally unfair to you, it’s unthinkable, it’s not fair to either of us. I love you so much, but I don’t love you as much as I need to, not as much as you need me to.” Ilanosa above, this was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” “Anosanim.” Tipping his face up, Ritek wiped at Anosanim’s tears, thumbs sweeping gently across his cheeks. “We’re not in a competition. I’m not competing with Talin for the depth of your love. You and I don’t have to love each other exactly the same amount for our relationship to be a good one. I’m amazed that I love you half this much, not because of who you are but because of who I am. You had a lot of ideas about me when we met, and you were right about some of it. I’ve never been in a relationship anything like this, I never wanted this kind of commitment, and now here I am, dreaming of marriage.” “I know, I know, and it’s simply inspiring, how you’ve transformed, how you’ve matured. You have such a generous, loving heart, you’ve been such a thoughtful, considerate boyfriend, I’ve been so blessed to be with you.” Anosanim ran his fingers along Ritek’s stern jaw, gazing at Ritek’s dear, handsome face. “Ilanosa have mercy, I don’t want to break up with you, this is so excruciating I feel as if my heart’s going to burn right through my chest. I don’t want to be without you, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and face a day without you in my life. But I can’t be selfish about this, I can’t try to keep you. If this isn’t going to work out, I can’t try to hold on and draw it out, I’d never forgive myself. You have so much of your life to get back to.” “Who says this won’t last? I’m perfect for you, Anosanim, and you know it. You’re everything to me, I’ll do whatever I have to do, we can make this work.” Oh, this was unbearable anguish. Anosanim should’ve known that Ritek wouldn’t just let go. So determined, so confident, so driven, that was part of what Anosanim loved about him. That was part of what made this such vile agony. “Listen to me. You have so much to contribute to the world. This work you’re trying so hard to walk away from, it’s tailor-made for you. It deserves all of your

talent and passion. It’s a position of influence, of real clout, you’ll be making major contributions to art and fashion. You were made for this job, and it was made for you. I’m already part of a dynasty, but your family’s still building theirs, and you’re a big part of that. If you make this sacrifice for me, that’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to them, either. They’re counting on you, and they’re right to.” Ritek was frowning, stubbornly refusing to accept it, and Anosanim took his hand, hating this. It was so painful to be strong, so woefully heart-wrenching to do what he knew was right; he wished that he were more of a coward, that he could just give in and go along and keep Ritek happy, because Ritek’s happiness meant so much to him. “You need a partner who can be right there with you. Someone who can stay with you and travel with you and contribute to your happiness, someone who can help you and support your career. I’ll write letters and you’ll manage a few visits, but a relationship from afar isn’t enough for you. It’s not enough for me, but it’s not enough for you, either. You deserve someone who can be right by your side, helping you to build your dynasty. All of this time and energy and emotion you’re spending on me, you should be devoting to other relationships. Or pouring into your work. I’ve been a huge distraction and you’ll walk away with nothing to show for it. I can’t draw this out and make it worse.” “No, no.” Ritek kissed him hard, just for a moment, and fresh tears sprung to Anosanim’s eyes as Ritek sat back. “Every second I’ve had with you, every instant of it, means everything to me. I treasure every moment we’ve been together. Loving you like this, don’t ever call it a waste. Not a second of it.” “Oh, Ritek, I feel the same way.” Why was he so very wonderful? Why couldn’t Anosanim love him more? Why was Ilaeia so far away? “But, l-l-loving someone is taking care of him,” Anosanim said, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest, brushing away new tears. “You’ve always been absolutely wonderful to me, you’ve taken terrific care of me, you have. Now you have to let me take care of you. This is what’s best for you, this is me loving you and looking out for you.” He swallowed and tried to remind himself, against that wounded anger in Ritek’s handsome eyes, that he was doing the right thing. “I love you, and I’m devastated with every word. But I can’t care about that, I can’t put myself first, I can’t worry about me. You’re what matters, your happiness is spectacularly important to me, and if I care about you, if I want the best for you, then I have to think long-term, I have to look out for all of your future and not just this moment.” Anosanim gulped in air, trying to get it out before he shattered into unrelenting sobs. “It tears me apart to say this, but I have to let you go.”

When the carriage rolled to a halt, Talin climbed up, pulling open the door. Pale and wet-eyed, Anosanim fell out of the carriage and into his arms. Silently, Talin held him close, helping him down. “Talin,” Anosanim whispered with a broken sob. “It’s going to be okay.” It was an inane, even inappropriate thing to say, but it was the sort of reassurance Anosanim wanted to hear. Anosanim had never been in such a serious relationship or been through such a painful break-up before, and would need help processing all of the conflicting emotions. It would be a lot easier for Anosanim to get over Ritek if he thought that another good relationship - - even a better relationship - - lurked in his future. It was a lot harder to move on, Talin knew, while convinced that nothing would ever be so good again. Arms around Anosanim, Talin guided him into the palace. “I sh-sh-shouldn’t,” Anosanim moaned, weeping helplessly. Seeing Anosanim distraught was roughly thirty thousand times worse than going through anything himself, and Talin wanted to run someone through with a hot poker. The problem was, he didn’t have anyone specifically to blame for this. He couldn’t blame Anosanim, and Ritek hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no way to seek revenge for Anosanim’s pain. That meant that instead of focusing on vengeance, Talin was left only focusing on supporting Anosanim. Which was what Anosanim would want, anyway. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek against Anosanim’s hair. “You love each other.” The door to his apartment was already open, and they were barely over the threshold before Rini was bounding forward. “Oh,” Anosanim gasped, hugging Rini. Looking around at Anikira coming forward to hug him, at Selorin and Orinakin’s concerned and understanding expressions, at Bade and Vade’s worried and curious faces, at Desin coming in from the courtyard with a little flowering plant, Anosanim burst into fresh tears. “Oh, you’re all so, you didn’t have to-” “Right, like we’re going to go off and have a raucous good time while you’re breaking up with your boyfriend,” Rini said. “We all brought fresh handkerchiefs,” Selorin said, and Anosanim managed a choking little laugh, hugging him closely. “We’re so sorry,” Orinakin murmured, leaning in beside Selorin and stroking Anosanim’s hair. “We know how glad you were to have him home again.” “Remin and Tano wanted to come and sit with you, but we made them get back to the belam,” Anikira said. “Remin wants to pray with you when you feel up to it.

And Tano made you some snacks. We put them in the bedroom so you can cry in comfort.” “Oh, he’s so sweet,” Anosanim said, sniffling into Selorin’s blue handkerchief. “Isn’t that just like him? He didn’t have to go to the trouble.” “Yeah, he brought wine and cheese and those little meatballs you like and a bunch of chocolate-covered fruit,” Desin said. “I think that Remin walked off with the cookies.” “Come on, we can sit and you can tell us everything,” Rini said. “Do you want us to agree with you about how great Ritek is, or convince you that you’ll be just fine without him?” Kudorin crossed his arms on the windowsill, resting his chin on the back of his wrist and looking out over the world. “Why don’t you join your brothers with Anosanim? This seems like the appropriate time for comfort and support.” Xio Voe’s arms coiled around his waist as Xio Voe sat down behind him, hugging him, bare chest firm against his back. “Have I overlooked some emotional nuance which would cause you to keep your distance?” “I’m comforting him as best I can, but for now, it must be from afar. I want to be physically by his side, to embrace him, but touching me would flood him with love, would override his feelings with peace and faith. He needs to experience his own emotions fully, to work his own way through this painful part of life and love.” “You saw, as I did, that it wasn’t going to last. Anosanim’s love for Ritek Lesano wasn’t strong enough for a solid, rewarding marriage.” Pain sliced through Kudorin’s heart as Anosanim curled up, sobbing, in Talin and Orinakin’s arms. “Knowing that doesn’t end the hurt.” Kudorin sighed. “I understand why he’s going through this and why it’s good, and yet, I’m distraught. My brother, my Hanibulatin, is miserable. I hurt for him.” “I don’t like it when you’re in pain, jarouje. If your distress were physical, I could bandage or operate or heal. I have no prescription or balm for empathy for a brother’s heartache.” Xio Voe’s hands rubbed over Kudorin’s stomach and up his chest, a caress of affection and comfort. Xio Voe’s love for him soothed some of the ache in his heart and he closed his eyes, sending a curl of love to Ritek.

On Remin’s first day back to work, when he finally dragged himself out of bed and committed to spending long, excruciating hours away from Tano’s naked body, he met with his personal secretaries. Mihina and Hasano congratulated him on his marriage, Mihina speaking of Tano approvingly and Hasano tearing up. He was grateful for the care they’d taken in planning his dates, and he offered his thanks for their service. After some conversation and prayer, he was giving them parting gifts when Selorin and Rini walked in. “We made it!” Rini said gleefully. “We were hoping to catch you here,” he told Mihina and Hasano. Remin could only guess why Rini and Selorin wanted to speak with them before they left his service, and all of his guesses led him to unpleasant conclusions. “You are not going to hire them to work for you.” Taken aback, Rini stared at him in wonder and consternation. “Did Kudorin tell you? Or are you guessing?” “We’d be happy to hire you, if you’re interested,” Selorin told them with an enchanting smile. “We wouldn’t ask for as much of your time as Remin required, but we’d offer the same compensation.” Mihina snorted. “Since when do the two of you have trouble finding dates?” As if Remin had trouble finding dates! “You weren’t hired to seek out men for me, you were hired to sort through the otherwise overwhelming influx of interested candidates,” Remin corrected. “I don’t want dates,” Rini said. “We thought that you could work for Selorin, interviewing potential boyfriends and giving him a few guys to choose from each month,” he told Hasano. “And you could work for me!” he told Mihina. “Like a social secretary! Keeping track of parties and games and events.” “Keeping track of your social obligations is less work than her current job?” Remin asked. “You’re as in demand as love, food, and happiness.” “Right, that’s why I need help!” Nudging scrolls aside, Rini perched on the edge of Remin’s desk. Hasano’s gaze dipped to his slim, bare legs. “I have to keep track of all of the times and dates and places, and I have to decide what to go to and what I have to skip, and I have to send gifts to everything I can’t attend, and I have to figure out what to wear, and I have to figure out whether I should bring a friend or bring a bunch of friends or go on my own, and whether I should take one of my brothers and which one. You can keep all of that stuff straight for me!” Mihina snorted. “You send gifts to all of the parties you can’t get to?” Rini looked at her in surprise. “You don’t?”

“Why do you require a personal secretary to provide a buffet of potential boyfriends?” Remin asked Selorin. “I don’t require one,” Selorin said, ever precise. “I would like to see the results of adding some organization to the system. Hasano has gained some very useful experience working for you, and I’m interested in how that can be applied to my social life. The longer I’m in office, the less free time I have to scout out boyfriends for myself, so I rely more heavily on the ones who approach me. Even when they do approach me, I have less time to get to know each one, so I choose among them based more and more often on first impressions. I suspect that excellent boyfriends are slipping through my fingers with the current system.” “You’re going to meet some super hot guys,” Rini told Hasano confidingly. “You won’t believe the kinds of guys Prince Selorin gets. And he likes variety, so you’ll get to look for all sorts of different types of hot guys.” Hasano blushed, his gaze darting between Selorin and Rini. “That.” He cleared his throat, shifting nervously in his seat. “That sounds a lot like what we’ve been doing for Prince Remin. I think that I could, um, be of help.” “Excellent,” Selorin said smoothly. “Make an appointment with my secretary at the courthouse and we’ll discuss the details of your employment.” “Good luck,” Rini told Hasano. “Prince Selorin’s as awful to work for as Prince Remin is. Do you want to work for me?” he asked Mihina. “I’ve never had a secretary before, so I don’t know what kind of boss I’ll be, but I don’t think that I’ll be an ass to you, or anything.” “I might be an ass to you,” she said frankly. Selorin grinned. “If you pay me for my service, I’m going to do the work. If I can be honest, you’re known to be kind of flighty, and I’m not going to waste my time playing around with you. I’ll humor you a little, because of your,” she gestured, “title and everything that goes with it, but I’m organized and efficient and aggressive, and I’m not going to stop being that way or act less professional just because you’re fun to be around.” “This might not work out,” Rini said, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “I hate being responsible. It’s fun for a few hours, but I couldn’t do it for seven days in a row. But that’s okay, right? You’ll be responsible, that’s what I’ll pay you for. We just have to work out a way for you to remind me of stuff without nagging me.” “I’ll give it a shot,” Mihina said. “If it doesn’t work out, you can fire me.” “I’ve never fired anyone,” Rini said, looking unsure. “It’s a terrible thing to do to someone.” Suddenly, his expression went from a troubled frown to an optimistic smile. “If it doesn’t go well, I won’t fire you, I’ll just help you to find a different job.

You’re a great coach, I could probably get you a better coaching job. Or something. We’ll figure it out.” “You’ve both been of great help to me,” Remin said. “Great changes in my life were easier because of you. Thank you for your earnest work.” He hesitated, glancing at Rini, then added, “I wish you the best in your new employment. May the gods grant you wisdom, understanding, and patience.” He smiled. “I trust that you will find working for my brothers instructive and broadening, if nothing else.” His arm slung around Tiko’s shoulders, Desin strolled out of the ballroom behind Bade and Vade. Orinakin was staying behind to finish business, but Desin was tired and bored and ready to get laid. In front of him, Vade was asking Bade, “Do they not know that you have a twin? Why would anyone mistake me for you?” “It’s an easy mistake to make,” Desin pointed out. “You’re identical.” “Do I look like I’m wearing purple?” Vade asked. “Am I parading around covered in purple diamonds? Look at me, look at Bade, how can you not see the difference?” “Covered in - - I’m not covered in - - it’s just a - - they’re not mine, anyway,” Bade muttered. The tips of his ears were pink. “Yes, they are,” Vade said. “It’s just - - these are all amethysts,” Bade argued. “There are just a few in the necklace, and Orinakin gave it to me, it’s not like I had it made myself.” “Bade, relax,” Tiko said lazily. “It’s good to see you walking around looking like a young sultan, decked out in only the finest.” “It’s just.” Bade rubbed his forehead, and Desin wondered why he was so flustered. “They’re not really mine. I don’t want you to think, I don’t want it to look like.” Cutting himself off, he groaned. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” Vade kind of had a point, Desin supposed. At first glance, they looked identical. But the difference wasn’t just that Bade wore purple and Vade wore anything else. Orinakin kept Bade tastefully adorned in the kinds of jewels that Anosadum had kept Sanuk in, stuff that made other royalty drool with envy but was still discreet enough not to be ostentatious. Vade wasn’t poor by any means, but the difference was noticeable, now that it had been pointed out. Desin hadn’t given it any thought, but probably Bade had, since he was used to being Vade’s equal in everything.

If Desin had anything his brothers didn’t, he’d share it with them. He didn’t see why Bade couldn’t do the same. Knowing about Tiko’s pride, he waited until he and Bade were alone near the door to Bade’s quarters. “You know that Orinakin’s money is yours, right?” “Oh,” Bade said, and looked like he was incredibly uncomfortable but trying to hide it. The treasury allotted Orinakin and Bade enough money for themselves and seven kids, and all of their travel expenses were covered by a completely separate part of the budget. Desin was going to guess that a large majority of Orinakin’s account went untouched. “You should get some nice stuff for your family. Extra’s been talking about giving your mother a fur cape all week, and you don’t want him to make you look bad.” “I don’t need to spend Orinakin’s money,” Bade said. “My own funds are more than sufficient.” Ah, shit, he hadn’t meant it like that. And there was no good way for him to say, “Yeah, but you can buy even more things with Orinakin’s money,” that didn’t sound completely insulting. It wasn’t like he knew how much Bade had, anyway. It was just that he’d seen how Orinakin dressed, and how King Mindo dressed, and he could make a few assumptions. “No, right,” he said, feeling like an ass. This was why he left these sorts of conversations to his other brothers. “Good night.” Closing his eyes, Orinakin breathed in Bade’s love and the intoxicating mist of Bade’s ecstasy. Kissing his shoulder, Bade tucked in familiarly against him, and he exhaled, relaxing into Bade’s affection, Bade’s sexual satisfaction. Feeling sated and fulfilled, Orinakin let sleepy languor steal over him. The wandering drift of Bade’s half-formed thoughts scattered hazily across Orinakin’s mind. Amid the unfinished sentences, Orinakin felt a dark prickle of irritation, and he opened his eyes, roused from the beginnings of slumber. Quietly, sleepily, he asked, “What’s wrong?” as he shifted, turning closer towards his vinga. “Mmm?” Bade settled his arm more tightly around Orinakin’s waist, his eyes already shut. Trying to remember what Bade had been thinking about, Orinakin settled on the scrap of an idea which had accompanied Bade’s irritation. “Rustic cousins?” Another prickle of irritation, a sizzle of frustration. “It’s nothing,” Bade muttered. Opening his eyes, he plucked lightly at a lock of Orinakin’s hair.

Rustic cousins. Orinakin couldn’t puzzle out what was on Bade’s mind, and now Bade was trying to distract him with emotionless math, so he amused himself by caressing Bade’s stubble and thinking about how well Bade kissed him. Eventually, the words “country cat” slipped through the multiplication. Country cat? The story of the country cat and the city cat? The city cat enjoyed a pampered life, being petted and groomed and fed only the choicest treats. The country cat stayed outside and slept in the barn and had to hunt for its food like a wild animal. In the story, they were from the same litter and couldn’t comprehend each other’s very different lifestyles until they visited each other, at which point they gained empathy and parted ways grateful for what they had. Did Bade feel like a country cat? Had snobbish guests treated Bade poorly? Orinakin was disgusted by the snide insults of people who thought that just because they didn’t know much about Nosupolis themselves, it must be beneath their notice. “A true king leads his people with his wisdom and his vision and his authority, not with his diamonds and rubies,” Bade muttered. “He doesn’t have to drown himself in gems like the Sultan of Lorbain or wear only the latest of fashions like King Ouia to prove himself someone a nation should follow.” Had someone insulted Bade’s father? “I will be happy to explain that to anyone unsure on the point.” Sitting up, Bade rubbed his face, groaning into his hands. “Maybe I’m unclear on the point. It’s just that - - I don’t want people to look at my family and see a bunch of - - of peasants, of commoners. We’re already at such a disadvantage, and so easy to dismiss, I don’t want anyone to, to look down on them, to - - and I live like this, I have all of the luxuries of an Anorian prince, and - - I don’t know, I don’t even want to talk about it, it sounds like I think there’s something wrong and I don’t, I just don’t know what other people see, what other people think, and I don’t want them to think the wrong things.” His heart torn by Bade’s frustration and resentment, Orinakin sat up, wanting to fix everything. “There’s nothing about your family that doesn’t suggest royalty. The way your parents conduct themselves, they’re an example for others to follow. Your father doesn’t dress in the latest Ilaeian fashions, but neither do most other kings. Can you imagine King Mindo strutting around in gaudy chiffon? Your parents wear the jewels of their ancestors, the royal gems marking Nosupolis’ rich history. How could those not sparkle as brightly as any other king’s crown?” “The Empress has a different necklace every time I see her,” Bade said, looking down at the sheets, his quiet misery twisting unpleasantly in Orinakin’s gut. “I wish that my mother dressed so well.”

“It’s hardly a fair comparison,” Orinakin said. “Xio Heijein rules over a huge and mighty empire. No matter how strong and wealthy Nosupolis grows, it should not be forced into competition with the ancient and ever-growing Jacacean Empire.” Conflicting emotions tugged at Bade, and he sighed, leaning against Orinakin, a warm and welcome weight. “I don’t like feeling like a country cat in a roomful of city cats everywhere I go. I want to spare my parents that. I want Tiko to dress like a future king, not like a young minor lord. People are already so condescending, I want to counteract that, to show them that we’re not a bunch of mountain fools who don’t know how to conduct ourselves in proper society. If my mother dressed more like the way the Empress does, people wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss her.” “Your family’s doing very well,” Orinakin said. “In large part thanks to you.” Bade laughed, giving him a pointed look. “In large part thanks to you. I’m the same country cat I always was, the same mountain goat. I’m just married to you now.” “That’s not fair,” Orinakin objected. “You’re the one who charms people and represents Nosupolis and directs people to contact your father. I get you into the room, but once you’re there, you do the work. You make the difference. And there has been a real difference. The interest is there, the deals are being made, the gold’s flowing in. I’m an educated man, Bade, I’m something of an expert on the international economy, and I have a very good idea of what sort of money’s moving into Nosupolis right now, including how much goes directly to your father. The ball’s begun to roll, and if I know your father and Tiko half as well as I think that I do, it won’t stop any time soon.” Mulling that over, Bade began to feel reassured. “Now, if you’d like to have a more immediate impact and shower your mother with the sorts of jewels and silks that an Anorian prince lavishes on his loved ones, I’d certainly encourage it. Your parents could use some nice new furs to keep them warm up in the mountains, don’t you think? And, considering Tiko’s love of horses, you might be interested in speaking to the trader Desin and Xio Voe were bickering over at lunch.” Bade stared at him, Bade’s thoughts a swarm of questions. “You - - were you talking to Desin?” “About the horses?” “About - - I’m not going to spend your money.” “There is no such thing as my money. I don’t have any private funds. I control the money allotted to my office, of course, and I have access to our shared funds,

but those are as much yours as mine. If you’d like to empty our account by buying up every pair of shoes you can find, I can’t stop you, and we’ll get another influx next year, anyway. That would involve an astronomical number of pairs of shoes, and it certainly wouldn’t be a wise investment, but-” “You’re chattering about a side issue to distract me,” Bade accused. “It’s not our money, it’s your money. And what am I going to do, hand my mother some new clothes to wear like I’m ashamed of the ones she has? Hand her jewelry, like that’s not an insult to my father for not outfitting her properly?” “I don’t know what sort of marriage you think other people have, but in this marriage, it is very much our joint, shared money. This isn’t even an issue. You go on every trip with me, helping me to earn every coin in that account. Consider it the Anorian government paying you to be one of my assistants if you must. You’re welcome to spend the money we’ve earned to buy your family anything you like, whatever strikes your fancy, no matter what it is.” Bade’s stubborn resistance began to fade. “I suppose that makes sense.” The other problem was trickier; Orinakin didn’t want to injure Mindo’s pride. “It’s not as if your father’s poor and your mother dresses in rags. She has plenty of fine apparel as it is. You’d simply be adding to it, not supplanting it. As long as you don’t offer anything that’s out of your father’s reach, I think that they’ll accept it. Start with scarves and brooches, not fleets of carriages. Not,” he smiled, running his hand over Bade’s back, “that I think that your father can’t afford fleets of carriages. It was simply an example.” “Hmm.” Bade twisted Orinakin’s hair around his fingers. “I could get Vade to help me. So it’s coming from both of us. I’ll say that we’re shopping together, and he’ll eventually notice that I’m paying for it all myself, and he’ll get pissed at me, and I’ll talk him into playing along. He’d probably love having the budget of an Anorian prince for a day, he’ll try to buy everything he sets his eyes on.” Hesitant, Bade met Orinakin’s eyes. “He’s going to want to know how much money I have to work with.” Orinakin smiled. “It’s not a state secret. You can tell him if you’d like.” He liked for Bade to be as honest with Vade as possible. “It’ll be weird. I don’t know how it’ll feel. Running through your money.” “Our money,” Orinakin corrected him, kissing Bade’s cheek, rubbing his lips over the stubble on Bade’s jaw. “I know how much you love your parents and how important it is for you to take care of your mother. Think of how good it’ll feel to lavish upon her a tangible representation of your love and affection for her. You

can’t hand her the love in your heart, but you can hand her a sack full of diamonds to symbolize it.” Laughing, Bade pulled at his hair. “A sack full of diamonds!” “I don’t get to shower you with gifts as much as I’d like,” Orinakin admitted. “You’re too humble a man. Which is a wonderful trait, but pushes me to demonstrate my love for you in other ways. Kudorin literally rains diamonds down on Anikira and pours black pearls over Xio Voe.” “I’m glad that you can feel my love for you.” Bade tugged at his hair again, gazing into his eyes, adoration blossoming rewardingly in Bade’s heart. “I don’t know how I’d ever express it in any adequate way, otherwise. I love you so much, I don’t know how to communicate it in words or actions. What kind of present could sum up how much you mean to me?” Feeling Bade’s love flow through him like honey, Orinakin closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Bade’s. “Your love is an indescribable, immeasurable treasure to me. Its weight far overwhelms any physical gift.” “Tell me.” Selorin smiled at Tano, resting a hip against the countertop in the kitchens. “Now that you’ve had some time to settle into it, is married life with Remin the paradise that you thought it would be?” Kneading dough, Tano smiled at him as if thrilled to have been asked, handsome face flush with happiness. “Yes! It is. Except, no,” he shook his head. “It’s so much better! Did you know that I can get laid whenever I want to? Whenever I want to! It’s amazing, I never thought that I’d get this much sex. I always wanted this much sex,” he added, muscles flexing as he worked the dough, “but I didn’t think that I could have it. And he’s teaching me to meditate! I pray so much, he said that I might enjoy meditation. He guides me through it, usually after we’ve had lovesex, so I’m calmer and more relaxed. He’s so close to the gods, I love just being near him.” Tano’s enthusiasm for Remin was so sincere, Selorin enjoyed the solidity of truth in his voice. “He seems to enjoy married life, too.” “He does!” Tano agreed, and then he burst into laughter. “I sound terrible. ‘You bet he likes being married to me, I’m awesome!’ But he’s so happy and so relaxed and so confident, he told me that he feels like he can handle anything the world throws at him, and I believe it. He’s so much calmer around other men now, I love it. He wants to get out more and travel more, take some time to visit some of the other priests and other temples. I’m looking forward to it, I love traveling with him.” He paused in his work, wiping his hands on his apron and

regarding Selorin frankly. “A lot of things are the same way they were before we got married. With a whole lot more sex,” he added with a chuckle. “But there are a few differences. People are way more deferential than before. Everyone’s so polite. And everyone knows me! People I’ve never heard of in my life talk to me like they already know me. They ask me about growing up in Karaten, they ask about Ilaeia and Vafiance, they ask about being celibate, how do they know about that? They ask me about Remin, it’s like I’m the national source of information on our royal high priest, I feel like I should issue daily updates or something. I get it, I mean, I understand how they feel, they love him and he’s talking to their gods for them, they want to know what he’s up to and how he is and that he’s doing well. He’s a wonderful, complex, passionate, fascinating man, and we all have a vested interest in his welfare. It’s just funny that our marriage isn’t some quiet, ordinary, private thing, it’s a matter of public interest, so every time I turn around complete strangers are asking how my husband’s doing and how our marriage is faring and what I’ve been feeding him lately.” “Does the intrusion bother you?” Selorin asked. “Oh, no, no,” Tano said frankly. “Sometimes all of the questions slow me down when I’m trying to get somewhere, but I don’t let that irritate me. They love Remin, and I understand that. They’re interested in him, and I want to encourage that. They’re so protective, like he’s their brother or their old best friend or their son or something, and I get that, we all feel that way. I’m the one the gods handed this amazing blessing to, I’m the one who got to marry him, but I used to be the one who prayed about the Seven Siblings from afar, and if I’d crossed paths with Princess Hisi’s husband and had the chance to talk to him about her, I would’ve wanted to say something, too. That’s the other thing. They ask me questions, but they tell me stories, too. About what Remin’s done for them or what the gods have done for them or what they’ve been praying about. Terrible stories and beautiful stories. And sometimes the stories that start off as terrible stories turn out to be beautiful stories, like there’s so much tragedy and so much devastation and then they come out of it so full of life and faith and hope that we just stand there and pray together in the middle of the hallway. And people join in! I’ve never had complete strangers join in before!” Selorin smiled at Tano’s astonishment. “You’ll get a lot of that. Do you talk with Remin about the people who approach you?” “Oh, yeah, I always try to remember who I met and what we talked about so that I can pass it on to him. He has the most amazing memory, he knows everyone. If they tell me that he talked to them two years ago for a minute at a festival, he recalls them, the festival, the conversation, their children’s names, where they’re from, all of it. He doesn’t just listen to me, he writes personal notes to them or

contacts their local priests, he prays for them, he cares. Remin really cares about everyone, he loves people, he has such a personal investment in everybody. He talks all of the time about how important it is for everyone to do well, for everyone to have opportunities, for everyone to have a good life and feel fulfilled and be treated well, but he means it, it’s so personal for him. It’s great, it’s inspiring, he’s so passionate, I love him for it, and I’d never discourage it, that would be horrible, but it’s so much, sometimes. Like sometimes I wonder if it’s good for him to take it all so personally. If you care so much, you’re going to be hurt and disappointed so often, you’ll just get broken down, and I couldn’t take it if that happened to him. But I think that he’s so close to the gods, he could go on indefinitely. When the stress starts to get to him, he takes a second to meditate or pray or talk to Anosukinom, and then he goes right back to it fighting even harder than before. I love him so much for that, I keep thinking that I can’t admire and respect him more and then I spend another day with him and he’s even more amazing than I’d already thought. I still can’t believe that the gods chose me for his husband, but being with Remin is the best thing in the world that could ever happen to me. But you know what I mean, he’s your brother, you know how wonderful he is.” Selorin smiled, hugging Tano. “You’re kind of wonderful, too, Naritano.” Smiling, looking touched, Tano said, “Well, I’m not a child of the gods or anything. Hey, can I get you something to eat? I can fix you a snack, or there are some muffins I’m taking to Anosanim later.” While Anosanim walked away from the break-up hurt and confused and plagued with doubts, Talin listened to him and loved him and brushed his hair. Talin was so considerate and concerned, Anosanim found him the most helpful of all, the most supportive of all, the first one to make him feel as if everything would be okay. As time went on he missed Ritek; he missed their conversations, missed hearing Ritek’s opinions, missed going out together for the evening, missed their blissful lovesex. He and Ritek had shared so much, it hurt to think that they might never share anything again. If Ritek had done something dreadful and they’d broken up after a nasty disagreement, it might’ve been easier, but Ritek hadn’t done anything wrong. Ritek had been wonderful and exciting and perfect, and Anosanim had lost a terrific, generous, fun partner and friend. He consoled himself with the thought that Ritek would find someone else, someone better; he prayed that Ritek would go on to storm the art world and make a tremendous splash in Ilaeia. He wanted only the best for Ritek, wanted Ritek to know great happiness and success.

He shied away from sexual activity at first, out of a confused desire to want to preserve his memories or perhaps punish himself for breaking up with someone who’d loved him so well. Then Talin put an end to that by sending a bela into the bathroom while he was in the shower. Two hours and a very wet floor later, Anosanim felt much better. Everyone was wonderfully supportive as Anosanim nursed his tender heart. Sadum sat down with him for the most consoling, comforting talks. She hugged him and cried with him and talked with him about love and relationships and romance. He could tell her what a bad day he was having and how much he missed Ritek, and she’d commiserate with him, and even when he wanted to put on a brave face for others so that they wouldn’t think that he was being selfpitying or melodramatic, he didn’t have to do that with her. Anosadum took him for long walks around the grounds, through the gardens. They didn’t say much, but her strong, reassuring, serene presence was wonderfully calming to his spirit. Viewing the palace from all angles, looking at all of the other buildings and reflecting on his ancestors’ memories of them, watching people work and play and run and laugh, enjoying the light breeze and his beautiful, natural surroundings made Anosanim’s personal problems, however serious to him, a little less momentous, a little easier to take. Sanuk took him out to distract him from his heartache, inviting him along to visit friends and family. At one of the dinners in a friend’s home, a happy couple surprised everyone by announcing their engagement, and Anosanim found his father staring at him as if waiting for him to explode into an emotional flop of messy tears, but he held himself together until he was in the carriage going back to the palace before he began to weep. His brothers were always around, popping up at every turn in any number or configuration, offering hugs and conversation and pleasant distraction. Remin counseled him, prayed with him, talking to him about what he’d learned from his relationship with Ritek, what he wanted in his future relationships. He always felt so much better after he’d spoken with Remin, as if Remin’s mere presence were comfort enough. Sometimes he got lost in the splendor of gold in Remin’s eyes and fell away from the moment for a little while, but whenever he reoriented himself he felt so hopeful and loved and faithful and at peace that he was sure that Remin had done something to him or the gods had been with him. Tano was sweet enough to cook for him, bringing him all sorts of little treats, sending them to his office during the day. Tano’s private little kitchen was so adorably homey, Anosanim loved to sit in there with family and talk about small, ordinary things while Tano cooked and chopped and stirred and let them taste

everything. There was something very primal and communal about sharing food with loved ones that Anosanim found wonderfully soothing, and he could see why cooking for other people meant so much to Tano. Desin was so thoughtful, bringing flowers to his apartment at night, sending a bouquet to his office to greet him each morning. They were absolutely lovely flowers, in the most elegant of arrangements, always incorporating a touch of orange. Desin tried to brush them off as just a gesture, nothing to get emotional about, but Anosanim recognized the arrangements as Desin’s own just as surely as he’d recognize a particular painter’s work by the palette and brushstrokes, and it moved him to think of Desin being so generous and so caring as to take the time to arrange the bouquets for him, personally, twice a day. He tried to tell Desin to send bouquets to Sebado, too, but Desin didn’t seem to understand why he’d recommend it, and Sebado laughed at the idea when Anosanim suggested it. Dear, sweet Bade was so kind, always right at hand to help him, fixing his pillows, finding his fan, offering a handkerchief, asking if he needed any water. It was charming, really, how attentive Bade was. Vade was always nearby, too, somehow always dropping by just when Anosanim wanted someone to cuddle. Anosanim had always found physical affection to be a vital part of emotional wellness, and the thought of going forever without feeling Ritek’s big, strong arms around him again was woefully distressing, but Vade was very generous about being on hand to supply hugs and comforting snuggles. Orinakin always knew just what to say. Orinakin was so sincere and so understanding, Anosanim could share anything with him, express anything to him. Unpleasant thoughts and frivolous concerns and shameful notions, he could tell any of them to Orinakin, and Orinakin never judged him, just talked it out with him to his heart’s content, expanding on the idea and teasing out nuances Anosanim had felt but been unable to explain, working through all of the angles until Anosanim felt satisfied, felt reassured, felt that the matter had been resolved. Orinakin understood his heart better than he understood it himself, and made him feel that everything he was going through was perfectly natural. Selorin surprised him by being around all of the time. Dropping in on him in the mornings before he left the palace, taking him out for lunch, swinging by to take him back to the palace in the evenings. Flattering him and listening to him no matter how long he rambled on. Charming him with little gifts, pretty trinkets, dainty tokens of affection. It was just like Selorin to be thoughtful, and it was just like Selorin to be kind to him, but there was something about it this time which

seemed different. And then Selorin confessed to making him the indulgence of the month. “I had an opening, and you take priority.” He was so touched that he laughed, and then he cried, and then he laughed some more, and he told Selorin to go find another boyfriend, a real one. Selorin grinned at him and asked, “Why? I like my boyfriends to be exceptionally attractive, and you’re the most beautiful one I’ve had yet. You don’t put out enough, but I can get sex anywhere else.” Rini was as full of life and energy as ever, swirling through Anosanim’s rooms with busy chatter. He had all of the gossip, amusing and distracting Anosanim with talk about friends and family, parties and orgies, birthdays and quarrels, new babies and scandalous betrayals. He bubbled over with so much news, Anosanim didn’t get a chance to dwell on Ritek at all. Kudorin sprawled in bed with him, cozily tangled, and asked him about what he’d build and design if he had no limitations, just imagination. He’d talk about features he liked, ideas he’d had, and slowly a building would take shape in his mind. As the details solidified, Kudorin would set the building before his eyes, maybe an evolving image of it painted across the ceiling above them, maybe a three-dimensional model hanging intangibly in mid-air. Seeing something which had previously existed only in his mind suddenly a visible creation always excited Anosanim, and he’d add on more details, watching it change before his eyes with each sentence as he described it to Kudorin. Focusing on architecture, building homes and temples and schools in his mind and seeing them so clearly before his eyes, energized him and invigorated his imagination, giving him something to work towards; it was a good motivation to move on from his heartbreak. Too dignified to flop with him on the couch to cuddle and cry, Xio Voe went riding with him. After a long, exhilarating ride, refreshed, they’d walk the horses back slowly, conversing. Xio Voe was, as ever, brutally frank, and told Anosanim that he and Ritek had never been meant to stay together. Whatever it was which solidified a romantic bond into the kind of love necessary for a marriage, they’d lacked it. Anosanim tried to insist that they could’ve built it, that they’d been working on it, that the potential had been there, but Xio Voe crushed that dream, explaining that the glimmer of romantic promise and the possibility of marriage were very real, observable things, and that it hadn’t existed between Anosanim and Ritek. Xio Voe didn’t understand why Anosanim was still so sensitive on the subject. Anosanim explained that he and Ritek had been a very important part of each other’s lives, and that he needed time to adjust, time to mourn what they’d lost and what they’d failed to achieve together, time to get used to Ritek not being a regular part of his life. Xio Voe conceded that a period of adjustment was reasonable, but insisted that Anosanim should’ve been over it after a day or so.

According to Xio Voe, dwelling on it seemed maudlin, overly sentimental, and self-indulgent. “You’re a doctor,” Anosanim said. “You think of the heart as another organ, like the lungs or the liver. But the human heart in its other sense is much more complex than that, terrifically complex. And think of it, if I’d been stabbed in the heart, if Ritek had literally and physically plunged a dagger into my heart, would I heal in hours? Would I be right back into my life, jumping and dancing and acting as if nothing had happened, the next day? A wound takes time to heal. A wound to the heart is severely traumatic. I would be in the clinic, and even after you released me from medical care, I’d have to be very careful, moving gingerly, because the wound would still be healing, still tender. An emotional wound, emotional trauma to the less physical heart, is much the same. I’m out of the clinic and back to work, but my chest is still sore.” After some consideration, Xio Voe conceded the point. Anikira was the one who helped him with the most difficult task. She helped him to pack up Ritek’s things. He’d been putting it off, not ready for that step, not ready to let go, not sure how to face Ritek again. But when Anikira came into his apartment and brought it up in her graceful, practical way, he found himself going along. She didn’t drag it out as a sentimental drama, but she also didn’t try to pretend that it were all a trivial, everyday task. She commented on Ritek like a fond memory and close friend, she let him cry over Ritek’s shirts, and she was so matter-of-fact and so pleasant that the entire task was much easier than he’d thought that it could be. The next step, actually returning Ritek’s belongings, made for a rough afternoon. It would’ve been simpler to have a messenger send them over, but Anosanim refused to be a coward about this. He didn’t want to abandon Ritek entirely; he valued Ritek’s place in his life and he hoped that, later, they’d be able to work out a friendship. He took the carefully packed crate of personal items to Ritek’s home. He’d written ahead, so that Ritek would know to expect him, and he carried the crate to Ritek’s door himself, his heart painfully tight, Talin waiting in the carriage. Ritek’s butler announced that Ritek wasn’t home, took the crate, gave him a pretty little trunk of his things, and closed the door. Talin comforted him while he cried and fretted and questioned and rambled the whole way home and all that evening. Talin was absolutely invaluable, unquestioningly supportive, always available to him, a perfect rock.

Part 293 Lunchtime. Leaving his apron behind, Tano carried a tray to Remin’s office. Remin was out, but the guard let him in, and he arranged lunch across the table. He didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself in case Remin came back with someone else, but he slipped off his underwear, leaving himself in sandals, a tank top, and a short skirt. Walking in, Remin said, “Anoha,” and immediately started to disrobe. As the gods locked the door, Tano asked, “Hey, how was your meeting?” and kissed him, helping him to undress. With long, deep, aggressive kisses, Remin pushed him back against the couch, and Tano groaned as Remin’s hands slid under his skirt, palming his ass. “Interminable but successful,” Remin said, kissing his neck and squeezing his ass. The aroused, breathy sound of Remin’s voice and the flit of Remin’s tongue against his skin turned Tano on, and he unbuttoned Remin’s pants with quick fingers. “Mmm, what is that, ham?” “And potatoes,” Tano mumbled, nibbling at Remin’s ear, curling his fingers in the waistband of Remin’s thong and drawing it down. “I made those,” gods above, yes, the hardness of Remin’s dick filled his hand, “cookies you wanted.” At that, Remin made a conflicted sound, nuzzling Tano’s neck. It was a noise Tano had heard before, the one that meant Remin was torn between fucking and eating, a noise that meant, “Gods above, this feels good, but, shit, that smells good.” As far as Tano was concerned, there was no reason Remin couldn’t always have both. “Sit,” he urged, pushing Remin down to the sofa. Dragging the table over at an angle, he handed Remin a fork and knelt. “Fuck,” Remin breathed, “this is why I love you.” “This is why I love you,” Tano said with a grin, caressing the lengthy column of Remin’s erection. Glancing up, he met Remin’s eyes. “Whoever finishes eating first gets to choose the belas tonight?” Maybe this wouldn’t go as smoothly as Bade had expected. He’d thought that he could go shopping with Vade and, together, they would start off by buying something for their parents, then something for Tiko. He’d find something to antagonize Vade about, just to get Vade in a contrary and rebellious mood. Then he’d spot something else to get for their mother, and he’d pretend to consider the

price, deliberately mentioning that he wasn’t used to spending so much in one day, and Vade, feeling contrary, would take the opposite stance and tell him not to worry about money, that they were princes, not peasants. Somehow, from there, he’d bring up his and Orinakin’s joint wealth - - alluding to Anosanim’s shopping habits, maybe, pointing out that he might live like an Anorian prince but he didn’t have to shop like one - - and, well, he’d just do his best from there. He had most of the conversation worked out, anyway, and he could improvise the rest. He’d expected things to go according to plan. But he hadn’t counted on Vade knowing him so well. They were only in the carriage on their way to their first stop when Vade asked, “What are you up to?” “What am I up to?” Nonsensically parroting Vade’s questions probably wasn’t his best strategic move, but he wasn’t sure how else to reply. He tried to look normal and, guessing from the way Vade started laughing, failed to do so in the most regrettable fashion. Finished choking back snorts of amusement, Vade regarded him frankly. “What’s going on? Are we going to some surprise destination? We’re not going to the furriers at all, are we? Do Anorians even have furriers? I should’ve guessed that this was all a ruse when you suggested that we buy furs in Orina Anoris, of all places.” “We’re going to the furriers!” It had seemed like a decent place to start, anyway. “Okay.” Now Vade looked more curious than ever, which was not a good thing. “Then what’s wrong with you?” “I just want to go shopping.” He tried to say it casually, but it came out uneasily, and he grimaced, giving up. “I want to buy a bunch of stuff for Mother and Father and Tiko, from both of us, and pay for it myself.” Making a thoughtful noise, Vade nodded. “On one hand, I’d get to take credit for being a good brother and generous son without actually going to any expense myself. I understand how you thought that would appeal to me. On the other hand, I have to wonder what’s in it for you, why you’d want to pay for it all yourself instead of going half-and-half. Do you think that I’m poor? That I can’t afford to buy my own mother a gift or two? You know exactly how much I have, unless you somehow mistakenly suspect that I went out and bought myself a couple of warships recently. All that leaves me with, really, is the notion that you know how much I have, and you don’t think that’s very much at all, anymore.” Vade regarded him in the very direct, candid way which meant that Vade was about to be very angry with him in just another instant if he didn’t say the right thing. “Do you think that I’m poor, Bade?”

“No!” Bade scrambled to explain. “No, it isn’t that. It’s like, like buckets of water?” Sure, that made sense, he could go with that. “Most people have similarly sized buckets. Ordinary citizen buckets. And then some people are poor, so they have smaller buckets or leaky buckets or no access to water in the first place. And then some people are wealthy, so they have bigger buckets, or two buckets. You have a big bucket, a huge bucket, and if I want to water plants or put out a fire, I can use water from your bucket and have plenty left over for anything else I’ll ever want. A tub, you have a whole tub.” “I have a tub,” Vade said. “And you have a whole lake.” “If you want water for something, it makes sense to take it from the lake and not the tub, doesn’t it?” Vade glared at him. “You aren’t going to insult me and then make me agree with the insult. If I want to give my mother nice furs, I can buy them myself with my own money. If I want to give my mother furs and jewels and dresses and a new carriage, I will. With my own money.” “Then we’ll buy them together,” Bade said. “Half my money and half yours.” “You mean half mine and half Orinakin’s,” Vade snapped. “Orinakin’s money is mine, too. It’s ours, jointly.” “Oh, I guess I missed the part where you did anything to help the Anorian government earn any of it. Please, tell me all about that.” Now Bade was just irritated. “Don’t pretend that I contribute nothing at all. I already feel enough like an extraneous limb, tagging along, and Orinakin spends a lot of effort trying to make me feel like I’m a valuable member of his team, like it makes a difference to have me there. Having you tell me how worthless I am doesn’t help.” “Okay, so maybe you can understand how I see you running around the world meeting with all of the important people I’ve only ever heard about, and your life is full of Anosukinom and belas and purple fucking diamonds, and I already feel like a scrawny country cat, and now you’re telling me that I’m too poor to buy our mother anything nice but you’ll be happy to take care of it for me with your big fat pockets overflowing with gold.” “I feel like the country cat everywhere I go!” Bade exclaimed. “I don’t want you to feel that way, too!” “How can I not?! Do you see yourself? You’re wearing! Purple! Diamonds!” He wasn’t! He - - oh, shit, he was. “Take them.” Clawing off his bracelet, he flung it into Vade’s lap. “Take it, wear it, you can have it, you can have all of it.”

“Oh, like that’s even remotely a reasonable answer!” Vade dropped the bracelet into Bade’s lap. “I do look better in purple than you do, and better in diamonds, so I’m sure that I’d look nothing but fantastic in purple diamonds. But I don’t think that anyone is going to be happy if you start giving away Anorian heirlooms.” “I want you to have all of the diamonds you want.” Bade didn’t even know if he were angry anymore or just unbearably miserable. “I want Mother to have all of the finery she wants. I can buy you anything you want, any gems, any color.” “I’m not accepting pity diamonds!” “It’s not pity, it’s love!” Vade scowled at him. “I’m not taking your money and I’m not taking your gifts. I’m not spending Orinakin’s money, or yours, or whoever’s, on my own parents. I’ll spend my money, or we can just go back to the palace and you can tell Orinakin how mean I am in addition to being so unbelievably poverty-stricken.” “You’re not mean and you’re not poor, you’re mulish.” As the carriage stopped, Vade said, “I’m going in, because I have to see for myself what an Anorian furrier sells, but if you try to buy anything, I will punch you.” Vade frowned. “And put your bracelet on, I’m not taking the blame when you lose it.” “You take the blame for me losing something?” Bade demanded. “How many times have I taken the blame for your stupid antics?” “Antics! Now I’m not just a peasant in rags, I’m also a clown? A jester?” “Stop taking offense at insults I never made!” They glared at each other, and then Vade pushed him back and got out of the carriage first. Frustrated and unhappy, wishing that he’d explained better, Bade followed Vade into the furriers. In royal circles, different people handled outings differently. Some rulers sent notice of their impending arrival, so that establishments could prepare and make things comfortable for them. Some rulers, like the Seven Siblings, wandered about as they pleased and rarely bothered to let people know ahead of time, preferring to move freely and, in Anosukinom’s case, surprise people. Some rulers, like Emperor Xio Sei, sent advance teams to check everything out and make sure that the area was secure, for the Emperor’s safety. Bade had never gone anywhere often enough to get in the habit of telling people about it, and now he was among the Seven Siblings who didn’t bother with those formalities, so it hadn’t occurred to him to warn the furrier of his visit.

Which was why he was surprised when the furrier immediately swept him and Vade into chairs, offering drinks and locking the front door to keep out other customers, talking animatedly of not knowing what he’d prefer but having a few selections available for his perusal. “Your home country is of a very different climate, so I thought of something very warm, yes? Very cozy?” Women - models? - - dressed in furs - - they had to be sweltering on such a warm day! - wheeled out racks of furs. “And for your mother the queen, for King Mindo himself, only the most luxurious quality will do. Maybe this-” “Forgive me,” Bade said. “This is all very nice. Did someone tell you to expect us?” Vade looked baffled. “I thought that you told them.” To the furrier, he asked, “Do you pour wine for all of your customers?” “Only for the best, Prince Vade, only for the special family and friends of Anosukinom. He delivered this into my hands with his own divine omnipotence.” Lifting a tiny scroll from a counter, the furrier offered it to Bade with reverent hands. Puzzled, curious, Bade read it. The words changed before his eyes, first red, then blue, then green, then a faintly luminous silver. Yes, this could only have come from Kudorin. My brothers Princes Bade and Vade will visit you to buy furs for King Mindo, Queen Wirra, and Prince Tiko today. Blankets, capes, coats, jackets, hats, hooded cloaks, lined gloves, muffs, and stoles will do. As for the matter of payment, they will flip a coin. Please have that short black vest sent to King Xio Voe; it is very handsomely made. Also, please patch your son’s roof sometime this week. The blessings of the gods be with you. Bade read it twice, then handed it to Vade. “He wants us to flip a coin to decide who pays.” After reading it, Vade gave it back to the furrier, who placed it very tenderly on the counter again. “He’ll just make it flip in your favor.” “Maybe.” It was possible. “Maybe not. But that’s life, isn’t it? It’s always a gamble. Maybe the gods will tilt the scales in your favor, maybe they won’t.” Vade narrowed his eyes. “I accept the terms. He’ll flip a coin, and however it lands determines who pays.” Really? “We’ll do it all over town,” Vade said. “Here. The bazaar. The Royal House of Art.”

“All right.” Sitting back, Vade took a sip of wine and considered the furs. “Do you have anything else floor-length? I don’t know if you’re familiar with it, but standing in the cold with the wind frosting your ankles can really test your dignity.” Desin entered the barn to find Kudorin there, making out with a bela in a nest of hay. Surprised, he watched for a while, then cleared his throat. “Did you want to speak to me about something, or was this just a convenient place to get off?” Laughing, Kudorin looked up, and the bela peeked at Desin over Kudorin’s shoulder, casting him a glance full of flirtation and yearning, as if desiring him and beckoning him. Desin took a step forward before he could help himself. The bela smirked, licking full, sensual lips, and Desin wished that Kudorin would move so that he could see the rest of the bela’s body. “Malo had lustsex with his first few partners in a barn, and we thought that it would be fun to come out here. You should talk to Bade and Vade about furs, you’d be surprised at how much they know. They’re in Lo Remasul’s shop right now, rejecting half of his inventory.” Lo Remasul’s? “It’s a nice place, but if they’re looking for native Anorian furs, I can get them much better stuff from the trappers in the hills. They’ll need something with really thick underfur, though.” Within Orina Anoris, the best place for a Nosupolin to buy furs was from an Anorian trader with a booth at the bazaar. The furs, unfortunately, weren’t from Anorian animals. As the tip of Malo’s tongue slipped along the shell of Kudorin’s ear, he held Desin’s gaze. “I want to bring your sex into my mouth and pleasure you.” Was Malo talking to Desin? He had to be talking to Kudorin. But it felt like he was talking to Desin, and that was all of the incentive Desin’s dick needed to strain forward, tenting Desin’s pants as it tried to stretch towards Malo’s mouth. “It’s not nice to tease Matanori’s son like that,” Kudorin scolded lightly, kissing him. “It’s very nice,” Desin argued, shifting, aching, touching himself a little. “Keep doing it.” “I’ll go send word to Bade and Vade about the bazaar,” Kudorin said, getting up. “Stay here and entertain Malo until I get back, he wants to watch you masturbate.”

By their third stop, Vade didn’t care anymore. He was having a great time! Shopping in Orikodisata was terrific fun! He didn’t have to give measurements and wait for things to be made, he could just look at already-made items and choose from them and receive them immediately. They did order some things to be made, when they had specific ideas or couldn’t find anything exactly like what they wanted. But they also bought loads of existing items, sending it all on to the palace, buying whatever they thought their father would like, whatever they thought would please their mother, whatever made them think of Tiko. They went to a lot of individual shops first, and they flipped a coin every time. Usually it was Bade, and the simple flip of the coin absolved Vade of any guilt or resentment. It was up to luck, in the hands of the gods, not a personal judgment on the size of his purse. Sometimes the coin landed in his favor, and he paid cheerfully. He couldn’t help noticing that Bade paid for all of the exorbitantly expensive purchases and he ended up paying in stores like the one where they only bought one pair of shoes, or the one where they only bought some fabric and bookends, but, hey, he was paying without hesitation when it was his turn, and that was what he’d agreed to. Then they went to the bazaar. Right outside, they asked the driver to flip a coin, and it landed as Bade’s payment. Shaking hands, they agreed that Bade would pay for whatever they bought inside the bazaar. Viewing the bazaar through the eyes of an Anorian prince, Vade bounced on his toes with glee. He then proceeded to buy whatever struck his fancy. Only things for his parents and Tiko, nothing for himself, nothing whimsical and useless. Bade joined right in, and often they both reached for the same object or asked a vendor about the same gift, stopping to grin at each other in recognition. Vade liked that he and Bade still had the same intentions, the same thought processes, the same impulses. He liked that they were focusing on their parents together, on Tiko together. It brought up all sorts of thoughts and memories, made him really think about what his father already had, what his mother liked, what Tiko might want. He and Bade talked openly as they shopped, sharing memories, talking about their mother’s habits, snickering to each other over Tiko’s secret love of boots. They didn’t actually buy Tiko a horse, although they discussed it in some detail. They did buy Tiko some new tack, including a saddle they were sure he’d swoon over. Well, not swoon over; Tiko wasn’t the swooning type. He’d at least hug them and thump them on the back and stroke it like a lover, though, which was just as good.

A messenger from the palace told them that Anosukinom wanted them to visit a certain booth, and they found the most luxurious furs there, warm and silky of and great quality. Vade had never shopped with such abandon before - - he and Bade just hadn’t been reared to be greedy or self-indulgent, they’d been reared to be humble and thoughtful and to make very deliberate choices after a lot of careful consideration. They didn’t think of themselves, they thought of everyone affected by their actions and what the consequences might be; they were responsible. Vade couldn’t call buying gifts for his parents irresponsible, really, but he still somehow suspected that his father wouldn’t approve if he made a habit of these shopping sprees. After they gleefully bought everything in sight at the bazaar, they went to the Royal House of Art. Anosukinom had already been in touch with someone there, and a very friendly, outgoing woman met them at the front steps. She guided them into a private sitting room and then proceeded to bring in models and sketches and samples. They weren’t sure of their parents’ measurements or of Tiko’s, but she already had them. They ordered so many things to be made - shoes and clothing and jewelry and hats and scarves and all manner of accessories and tidbits and frippery - - that Vade started to wonder who had come up with all of these things. The last thing they decided on was a set of timepieces. A handsome pocket watch for Tiko, very dignified and understated. A very pretty, more dainty one for their mother, with pink diamonds on the face. The pocket watch they designed for their father started out like Tiko’s but ended up, after a lot of deliberation and debate, much more expensive. Not gaudy, and they kept the case fairly simple, but the face was fairly, well, ostentatious? Elaborate? It was certainly fit for a king, and when Vade asked the Anorians in the room how it compared to something the Seven Siblings might have made for Manosuta, they agreed that it was definitely suitable. Vade had never spent so much money in one long, busy day before. On the way back to the palace, as he and Bade talked animatedly over their purchases, he felt giddy and proud. The excursion had been a great deal of fun, and they’d bought a lot of terrific things that their family would really be glad to have. He was glad to have done this with Bade, that they’d shared the experience with each other. It wouldn’t have been nearly as fun with anyone else. As they sat in the carriage, Bade, said, “I explained it wrong, earlier. What I wanted to say was that the government sets aside money for Orinakin and for me and for our children. Enough for seven children. We aren’t spending it, and

we get more of it every year. I don’t even know if we’ll ever have children. We want to spend some of that money on our family, on you and Tiko and Mother and Father. We love you and it makes us happy to buy you nice things. I’m not saying that you don’t have nice things or that you can’t get yourself nice things - that would be stupid, that’s obviously not true, I grew up in the same castle that you did, I know that you have nice things. You can buy as many new expensive things for yourself as you want, but it won’t stop me from wanting to give you more. It’s not about what you already have, or about what you can get, it’s about what I want to give you. If you found a sack of gold in the street, wouldn’t you spend it on a gift for our parents?” Irritated, Vade smacked Bade’s shoulder. “You should’ve said it that way in the first place!” “I tried! You took offense!” “If you find a sack of gold in the street, you should try to find out where it came from,” Vade pointed out, to divert attention from another argument. “To give it back?” Bade asked, grinning. Vade laughed, loving that Bade knew him well enough to set up the joke for him. “To get more!” When they got back to the palace, they went to Bade’s rooms but didn’t see the expected tower of trunks there. Rini was passing by, so they asked him where everything they’d shopped for would be, if it hadn’t been placed in Bade’s rooms. “How much did you buy?” Rini asked. “If you get enough stuff, they don’t want to clutter your quarters with it and inconvenience you, so they put it in one of the empty apartments, and you can leave instructions for what you want them to do with everything.” Vade wanted to protest that they hadn’t bought that much stuff, not enough to warrant keeping it in another apartment. But he had the sudden suspicion that he was very wrong about that, and then Rini took them to into an empty apartment, and he saw trunks and trunks and baskets and sacks and great Grengar, “How much did we buy?!” “They’ll never accept this,” Bade said, turning to him with a worried expression. Rini was cheerfully poking around looking at everything, opening trunks and inspecting their contents. “It’s too much, they won’t take it.” Bade was right, but, “We’re not going to take it all back! We got it for them, they have to take it. I want them to have it! That’s the whole point!” “Sneak it,” Rini said. “Wow, this is fantastic. Is this for your mother?”

“Yes,” Bade said. It was kind of a silly question, Vade thought, because the fabric Rini was asking about was only suitable for women. What did Rini think, that their father was going to stride about in flounces and ruffles? “Sneak it?” “When you and Tiko go home, sneak it into the balloon. I can help you with that, it’ll be easy. Tiko’s not going to investigate the storage, he’ll trust the servants to take care of it, right? So you can get this into Nosupolis. And once it’s there, it’s too late to refuse it. You can talk about how you and Bade love your family so much and Bade misses them so much. They wouldn’t refuse a gift from their beloved Bade they miss so much who just wants them to think of him while he’s gone, would they?” Vade grinned. “You’re devious.” “I like to get my own way,” Rini said. “Sometimes it just takes a little planning.” Entering the room in a swirl of gold, Remin threw himself down on Orinakin’s couch. “Let me tell you how fantastic my life is.” While Talin rolled his eyes, Anosanim laughed, and Desin said, “Sure. Go ahead. Tell us all about it.” Tano, strolling in right behind Remin, chuckled and sat on the armrest at Remin’s side. “Let us guess,” Rini said. “I’ll bet we can reconstruct your whole day for you.” “Oh, that’s easy enough,” Selorin said, sitting back and crossing his legs. “Tano woke you up and fed you breakfast in bed.” “And then fucked you,” Rini said. “You went to your office,” Anikira said. “Met with people. Ordered priests around.” “Ate whichever snacks Tano sent you,” Selorin said. “Prayed,” Anikira said. “Talked to Kudorin.” “And then Tano brought you lunch,” Selorin said. “And fucked you,” Rini said. “Then you ran a couple of meetings and blessed some people,” Anikira said. “Had dinner,” Selorin said. “Had sex,” Rini said. “And came in here to gloat about it,” Anikira said. “Did we miss any meals?” Selorin said. “We probably missed some sex,” Rini said. “Did you get laid before dinner, too?”

“On top of his desk,” Tano said, and smiled down at Remin, brushing his hair back from his face. “It was fantastic.” “See, this is the problem,” Rini said. “We were going to celebrate your wedding with an orgy, but you’ve been running your own orgy since you got married. Half of the guys in the sulatim belam had to take the day off today to recover from whatever you two did to them yesterday.” Remin smirked. “Only half?” “An orgy?” Tano asked, sitting forward with interest. “What kind of orgy?” “There are different kinds?” Vade asked. “There are a lot of different kinds,” Rini said. “Depending on who’s there and what everyone wants to do. There are as many different kinds of ways to hold an orgy as there are different ways to have sex. No, there are more, I think. But this is just the simple kind where we all get naked and have sex with the belas. Or with each other, for those of you who have husbands and wives. The belas have been practicing, they have a great performance ready. It has flower petals and a dance about the moons and sun and bondage and everything, you’ll love it, they’ve worked hard on it.” Bade and Vade cast panicked glances at Anikira, and she chuckled. “I’ll stay out of it this time, thanks. You all enjoy yourselves. If I want to watch Remin and Tano partner, I can stop by Remin’s office unexpectedly.” “Or open a pantry door,” Desin said. “I would love an orgy,” Tano said. “When would it be? I can make snacks or-” “You don’t have to cook for it,” Rini protested. “Yes,” Remin said, “make snacks.” “I suppose the scheduling question can best be answered if we know whose schedule we need to work around,” Anosanim said delicately, twisting his handkerchief around his fingers and glancing discreetly at Xio Voe. “We were putting it off because of you, too,” Rini told Anosanim. “We didn’t know if you were in the mood for it.” “Oh, Extra, that’s so thoughtful of you.” Anosanim reached past Anikira to squeeze Rini’s hand. “I’m fine, don’t wait on my account. I think that it sounds like great fun. And we have to do it while Vade’s here, we can’t leave him out.” “Right, so, everyone’s in?” Rini asked. “Tomorrow night?” “Not tomorrow,” Kudorin said thoughtfully, turning Orinakin’s table to black marble. “The night after.”

As everyone vacated Orinakin’s apartment for beds and belams, Anikira strolled across the palace with Xio Voe. “It would be considerate of you to tell them whether you’ll attend or not.” In public, she had no particular desire to mention the event under discussion, but she knew that he’d understand her perfectly. “Would the knowledge influence their preparations?” Xio Voe asked coolly. He was slowing his stride to make it easier for her to keep up, a rare kindness he displayed for a very select handful of people. “Not in a tangible way, but their wondering and guessing and a certain amount of Nosupolin fretting would be alleviated if they had a firm answer.” “I have not yet made my decision.” Anikira’s eyebrows rose. “The mighty Xio Voe, indecisive?” “I shall discuss the matter with the people most invested in my response.” Xio Voe was going to hold conversations about his participation in a sexual orgy? “I don’t suppose that I could hang around for those discussions?” “No.” His voice was dry. “I don’t suppose that you could, either.” “Is there anything I need to do to prepare for the orgy?” Tano asked. Crawling across the sprawl of Amarito’s naked, resting body, he took a drink from the cup of water by the bed. “Besides make the food?” “Stretch?” Tukaro suggested, smacking his ass. Tano looked back with a grin, arching, and Tukaro spanked him again. Sighing with pleasure, Tano dropped back to sit in Tukaro’s lap, rubbing his hands over Tukaro’s hard thighs. “All you have to do is show up,” Remin said, lounging idly on the bed, his head pillowed on Doresat’s chest, his fingers walking across the taut roundness of Amarito’s ass. “We’ll take care of the rest.” “I’ve never been to an orgy before,” Tano explained. “I didn’t know if there were, I don’t know, customs or something. It would be really awkward if there are rules I don’t know about and I mess up everyone’s good time by trying to fuck the wrong person.” “Never been to an orgy?” Remin repeated. “What do you think you’ve been doing ever since we got married?” “There’s never a bad time to fuck me,” Tukaro said, pinching Tano’s nipple. “Just to clear that up.” Laughing, Tano rubbed his nipple. “I know what you mean.”

“There are the same guidelines as always,” Remin said. “The pharaonic belas and guest belas will be there, and so will my brothers, but you’re expected to restrict yourself to me and our belas.” “Although if you want to make out with Prince Vade some more, we always have a good time watching that,” Amarito said. “Yeah, stop doing that behind closed doors,” Doresat said. “Keep doing it in the hallway, so we can all enjoy it.” “It’s not something I plan for,” Tano said, laughing. “It’s just something that happens. It’s fun, it always turns me on so much, he makes the sexiest noises.” “You’re going to love the noises they make at the orgy,” Tukaro said. “Between Prince Bade and Prince Vade and Depano, it’s the perfect accompaniment to some good, hard fucking.” “It’s been so long since you were with us,” Doresat said, running his hands over Remin’s torso. “It’s never the same without you.” “An orgy’s not an orgy without Prince Remin,” Amarito said. Tano smiled at that, running his hand over Remin’s thigh. “I’m going to be on double duty, enjoying the orgy for myself and making sure that you have a good experience.” Grunting, Tukaro kissed the back of his neck. “Your ass is going to get the workout of a lifetime.” Oh, that sounded good. Tano twisted in his lap, grinning at him. “Promise?” Xio Voe’s first conversation was with Anosukinom. As he’d predicted, Anosukinom greatly desired him to attend the orgy. After twisting into conversational knots, taking pains to voice respect for Xio Voe’s privacy and expressing hesitance to place unwelcome pressure on him, Anosukinom said, “We’ve talked over and over again about familial bonding and how important it is for me to share my life with my brothers and how much it would mean to them if you joined in and embraced our traditions. This time, I’ll be honest. I want to show you off. You’re magnificent and you’re sexy and only our belas get to appreciate that about you. I have this fantastically sexy man in my bed every night and I want to flaunt it. Look at what I’m up against, Bade’s hot and exotic and he makes Orinakin come just by coming himself. Remin has Tano, he’s new and he’s enthusiastic and they’re going to get all of the attention. You could fuck circles around both of them but I have to show up alone and sit in a corner consoling myself with having the best belas. I don’t just have the sexiest belas, I

have the sexiest husband. You’re competitive! You’re used to being the best! We can win this thing!” It was an unexpected argument, and Xio Voe found it amusing. With that in mind, he went to hold his second conversation. Bade and Vade welcomed him into Bade’s chambers courteously. He found them, as ever, very easy to converse with, and ended up discussing astronomy for thirty-two minutes before he returned to his purpose. “Regarding the sexual orgy.” As if on cue, they both blushed bright red. “Oh?” Bade asked. “Yes?” He smiled politely; Vade was occupied with looking anywhere but at Xio Voe. “As the evening revolves around consensual sexual activity, it is paramount that everyone in attendance is at ease. If my presence makes anyone uncomfortable, I cannot participate. The belas would not, I trust, be put off by my attendance. The Seven Siblings wish for my presence. While I have not broached the subject with Naritano personally, I believe that he is of the usual Anorian sentiment that as long as everyone in attendance is happy to be there, there is no reason for discomfort.” “Tano’s very.” Bade paused. “Anorian,” Vade said. “Indeed.” Xio Voe supposed that he’d have to push for a direct response, since they didn’t seem inclined to offer one yet. “If my participation would make you uncomfortable, I will avoid the orgy. No one but Anosukinom need know why.” “You, oh.” Bade rubbed his forehead, Vade blushed harder, and they exchanged a mildly panicked look. “I don’t know what to say,” Bade said helplessly. With a distressed noise, Vade looked at Bade again. Bade responded by looking more confused, and Vade turned to Xio Voe. “Will you hold it against us if we’re candid?” “No.” He’d expected a hasty, flustered answer. Interesting, that they felt the need to discuss it. He supposed that some frank communication wouldn’t be overly unpleasant. Considering how open Bade was with him about private sexual behavior, he generally felt comfortable offering a certain degree of openness in return. He wouldn’t have understood lovesex half as well were it not for Bade. “I don’t want you to watch me have sex,” Vade said. “But I, great Grengar, I can’t say that,” he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “Say it,” Xio Voe ordered.

“I want to watch you,” Vade confessed. Bade made a miserable sound and put his head in his hands. “Oh, come on, he’s not stupid, he looks like that, he has sex with Anosukinom, of course I want to see what it’s like!” Vade argued. Bade just groaned and refused to look up. “I just don’t want you to see me,” Vade told Xio Voe. “Yeah, it sounds hot, but I’d never be able to meet your eyes again.” Xio Voe supposed that he should use the advantage presented to him. “What do you suppose will change between us if I witness your sexual activity?” “You’ll know what I look like with a dick in my mouth, for one,” Vade said, and Bade whimpered. “You’ll know what I look like with a dick in my mouth, as well,” Xio Voe pointed out. Vade’s blue eyes widened to a comical degree. “Will that not put us on even footing?” Vade made a completely incoherent sound, something like, “Unck,” and then stared. After a moment, he said, “I don’t even know what to say to that. I kind of stopped comprehending words after that first sentence.” That lent some credence to Vade’s claim that he’d be interested in watching Xio Voe have sex. “You’ve engaged in those behaviors in front of the Seven Siblings. How does that differ?” “They’re Anorian,” Vade said, as if that explained everything. And it did. Still, “I know that you partner with men. I know that you engage in intimate sexual activity with belas. While witnessing it firsthand may give me some insight into your sexuality, there is no revelation to be made.” “Except the revelation that - - do I have to say it?” Vade asked. “I don’t have proper, stately sex. I don’t have mild, polite sex. I don’t even have the excuse of being Anorian. I’m just a slut. I’m a slut and I don’t want you to see me being a slut. I’m the kind of guy the footmen call an unpaid whore.” “You’ll forgive me if the news comes as no revelation. I’m aware of your robust sexual nature. If you weren’t so lusty, you would be a less interesting orgy guest.” Vade blinked and turned to Bade. “The Heir to the Jacacean Empire thinks that I’m a slut.” Finally raising his head, Bade looked at Xio Voe, red as a beet and painedlooking. “May I leave?” “Do you object to my presence at the orgy?” Sighing, Bade slumped against Vade’s side. “I guess not. You’ve already watched me with Orinakin, and whatever you haven’t already seen, you might as

well get a good look at. I don’t.” He stopped short and sighed again, rubbing his forehead. “I’d love to get to watch you, but I don’t want you to look at me, except that part of me is really turned on in a freaked-out way at the idea of you watching, and I don’t know what to do with that. But it’s a family party, and you’re part of the family. I feel the same way about Remin being there, and I’d never ask him not to attend. I’ll feel shy and awkward at first, but Orinakin will kiss me and I’ll get over it. And if I’m turned on watching you, Orinakin will love that. You’d never make me feel bad about however I react, whether I’m too shy or too interested.” “That’s true,” Vade said with interest. “I could get ashamed and hide under a blanket, or get excited and stare at you the whole time, and you wouldn’t get mean about it or hold it against me. Would you?” “I hope that I’m not callous enough to treat someone rudely based on such a private, sexual situation,” Xio Voe replied. “As I said, it is paramount that everyone in attendance be at ease. I would rather leave entirely than make anyone uncomfortable.” With a thoughtful noise, Vade sat back. “I hope that you’ll attend,” Bade said. “I think that it would mean a lot to everyone.” “An orgy,” Vade said. “With Remin. And Xio Voe. And Tano.” He licked his lips and grinned at Bade. “Think we could have one every night?” Whew. Giving himself a little shake, Tano got up, tucking his dick away and buttoning his pants. “Gods above, that was fantastic.” “Mmm.” Making pleased, satisfied sounds, Remin licked his lips with an erotic flick of tongue. “Thank you, I needed that.” After Remin straightened his robes and Tano smoothed down his hair, they left Remin’s office. Remin was meeting with Anosukinom and the high priests, and Anosukinom had asked Tano to join them. Tano wasn’t sure what he could contribute, but he was happy to be there. He knew all of the high priests, and Remin had told him a lot about working with them, but he was eager to see how the meetings went firsthand. When they entered the meeting room, Tano greeted the high priests politely. Everyone stood around the table in loose bunches, chatting, and Tano fell into conversation with the high priests of Anona and Oranomi about what constituted a good salad.

Anosukinom’s entrance, naturally, cut all conversation short. After Anosukinom blessed them, everyone sat around the table and Remin led everyone in prayer. Tano was seated at Remin’s right hand, and when Anosukinom got up, he stood with everyone else. Shooing them back into their seats, Anosukinom stepped over in between Remin and Tano. “I’m sometimes an impulsive man. I sometimes question tradition. Many traditions are good. They hold their place, they provide structure to our lives, they keep us connected to our history.” Resting his hand on Remin’s shoulder, he looked over the high priests with a smile. “Once in a while, I find a custom more of a hindrance than it is worth.” “In your wisdom,” the high priest of Itanoka murmured reverently. Anosukinom gave the high priest a warm, private smile, then continued. “You know of my deep affection for my family. I love my brothers greatly, and I extend that love to their loved ones. When Prince Bade joined in marriage with Prince Orinakin, I considered him to be another one of my brothers. He is Inanodat. Our beloved Naritano, he, too, is Inanodat.” The high priests looked at Anosukinom, at Remin, at Tano, at each other. A few of them made the sign to the gods, a few of them looked eager to hear more, and a few of them looked pretty horrified. Tano was still getting used to the idea, himself, and he’d talked with Anosukinom about this several times already. He wondered why Anosukinom was telling the high priests all of this. So that they’d have a better understanding of Anosukinom’s concept of family? For Tano, it was enough to know how Anosukinom felt about him; he didn’t need the information shared with others, and he didn’t want anyone to treat him differently because of it. But he knew, especially from talking with Remin, how much the high priests valued any little bit of knowledge they could glean from Anosukinom. He could guess that this was information they’d want to have. “I love Prince Bade and Naritano. I wish to share my life with them, my affection, my love. I extend to them the same sentiment and generosity I would give to any of my brothers. Yet something holds me back. Literally and physically. I cannot touch these brothers.” Remin’s fingers tightened on his armrest, but when Tano looked quickly to his face, he looked perfectly composed. “It frustrates me that I cannot touch them,” Anosukinom explained. His fingers were combing lightly through the golden fall of Remin’s hair. “Touch is an extraordinarily important part of the human experience. Physical contact between human beings is a way of communicating, even a way of healing. When I am cut

off physically from my brothers, I cannot share with them my love and my joy and my affection the way I do with others in my life. Part of the strength of my relationship with the Seven Siblings is that when I touch them, they can feel my love for them. The intimacy of our physical contact has bonded us to each other.” “My understanding of Anosukinom would not be as great if we did not touch,” Remin said quietly. “It is understood that I am Anosukinom,” Anosukinom said. “As the living god among you, I am one of you but separate. Only a select few are permitted to know my touch, and even those must undergo the ceremony.” Did Anosukinom want him to go through the ceremony? No, that was - - but maybe - - no, no, he - - but if not that, what was he talking about? “Anosukinom,” Remin murmured. His tone was properly reverential, but there was a warning in it. “Ssshh,” Anosukinom said, caressing Remin’s shoulder. “I have come to a decision,” he told the high priests. “I can’t stand not being able to touch Tano. It’s frustrating, it’s infuriating, I love him so much and he’s married to Remin, he’s the beloved chosen husband of my Anoremin, I have to touch him. Out of respect, I wanted to tell you first, so that it’s seen and understood, because people are going to have a lot of questions about it and I wanted you to see it for yourselves.” “Anosukinom,” Remin said sharply, and then Anosukinom’s hand landed on Tano’s shoulder and light… Exploded. Through his body. Gasping - - was he gasping? Was he breathing? Gasping, or maybe not, Tano felt something burstblaze-bloom inside of him, like everything in his chest had suddenly shattered or imploded or been incinerated, and then he was so in love, so in love he couldn’t take it, and the world was such a beautiful place, so beautiful, full of hope and promise and miracles, and he was crying but he didn’t know why he was crying because he was so very, very happy. Joy, he felt joy, and peace, and love, and hope, and gods above, gods above, it was intensifying, it was expanding, he was expanding, was he expanding? His heart was, or his soul, or his capacity to believe, or his willingness to understand. “Gods above, gods above,” he was on his feet, and Anosukinom was hugging him, and he hugged back, so eagerly, so gladly. He was crying and Anosukinom was whispering his name and radiant, gleaming love was pouring through him. He hadn’t known that love could feel like this, he hadn’t realized that receiving love was an actual physical sensation, but that had to be what this was, or else it was something he couldn’t begin to comprehend and could only clumsily label

“Anosukinom’s love” in his limited knowledge. It felt like love, like life, new life, rolling into him, filling him up, overflowing the confines of his heart. He hugged Anosukinom for a while. It was funny, for a moment, how real and solid and normal Anosukinom felt, like he was hugging any other guy. But no other guy could make his heart soar like this. And he also had to admit that, wow, Anosukinom had a great body. So firm with muscle. Anosukinom’s hair was so soft and silken, like inexplicably thick gossamer. Then his fingers brushed the bare skin of Anosukinom’s arm and, oh, gods above, that felt good. Anosukinom’s skin was exquisite. Gods above, if touching anyone, ever, could feel better than touching Remin, this might possibly be it. Laughing, Anosukinom cupped his face in two hands, two strong, long-fingered, impossibly silken hands. “You’re crying,” Anosukinom said, smiling, and then Anosukinom kissed his cheeks, the tenderness of Anosukinom’s lips brushing the tears away. “I love you.” He didn’t know what else to say. “I love you so much, I’ve never felt like this, I didn’t know that I could feel like this.” “I love you, too,” Anosukinom said, hugging him again. “Remin, send for Bade, I want him.” In the hallway, Bade ran into Orinakin. “Hey.” Okay, this made more sense. He’d been wondering why Kudorin would summon him to a meeting with the high priests, but he could think of a dozen reasons they’d want Orinakin. That didn’t explain why he’d been summoned, not really, but it made more sense for them to send for him and Orinakin than him alone. “Hi.” Greeting him with a hug, Orinakin kissed him and took his hand. “You’re flustered.” “I just had a conversation with Xio Voe that I never really wanted to have. And I can promise you that Vade is far more embarrassing than anyone you’re related to.” “Oh, you’re going to have to give me details as soon as this is over,” Orinakin said with a smile, and opened the door to the meeting room. It took Bade a moment to realize what he was looking at. Kudorin was standing at one end of the table, loosely hugging Tano, while the high priests threw out questions. Remin wore an expression he only got around Kudorin, one that was very determinedly calm, leaking a hint of awed, joyful wonder and a glimmer of furious disbelief. Seeing that expression, Bade knew that Kudorin must have done something particularly eccentric again, something only Anosukinom could

do, something maybe Anosukinom shouldn’t do, and that was when he recognized the significance that Kudorin was hugging Tano. Kudorin was hugging Tano! “Bade!” Aglow with happiness, Kudorin kissed Tano’s cheek and said, “It’s different for everyone. Keep answering questions,” and then let go, stepping away from Tano. Hugging himself, Tano looked after Kudorin with dazed, happy, yearning eyes as Kudorin walked right up to Bade. “I’ve been waiting forever,” Kudorin said, andpure, blissful pleasure -washed through Bade and he had not been ready for this. He couldn’t ever really have been ready for it, but some warning might have been nice, some sort of advance notice that Kudorin was going to touch him today. Touch him, Kudorin was hugging him, he was pressed against Kudorin’s chest and Kudorin’s strong, muscular arms were wrapped around him and soaring, searing ecstasy was rolling through him. He felt like he was coming, over and over again, and way too late he realized that he was sort of moaning out loud in front of the high priests, so he clamped his mouth shut and tried not to die of embarrassment but in this beautiful, wondrous existence where Kudorin was hugging him he couldn’t feel something as crude as shame. Holding onto Kudorin, he closed his eyes and breathed, and he could feel ecstasy unfurling across his skin. Pressing closer, he tightened his embrace, and Kudorin said, softly, maybe out loud or maybe just in his mind, “I love you,” and he loved Kudorin, too, if love came close to describing what he felt. As soon as Kudorin decided to end the meeting with the high priests and walked away, Remin followed. Orinakin followed, too, Bade and Tano with him. Kudorin was emanating a cool breeze of peace and love, and Orinakin drifted along on it, pulling in Bade and Tano’s wonder and happiness and excitement. Remin, meanwhile, was a tangle of conflicting emotions, and Orinakin understood why, but he’d share in Remin’s concerns shortly. For the moment, he wanted to soak in Kudorin’s love, the love Kudorin extended to everyone. Kudorin loved Tano and Bade enough to break traditions going all the way back to the first Anosukinom, and Orinakin was proud of Bade, proud of Kudorin, glad that now Bade could know Kudorin the same way that he did, without barriers. Being loved by Kudorin and knowing his touch was an integral part of how Orinakin related to the gods, had done a great deal to shape Orinakin’s worldview, and he was thrilled to be able to share that with Bade.

When they reached Kudorin’s quarters, Xio Voe and Anikira were there with the rest of Orinakin’s brothers, even Vade. While everyone started talking at once, Orinakin hugged Selorin. He loved Kudorin so much, he loved Bade so much, and now Kudorin and Bade could love each other, be physically affectionate with each other. The bond Orinakin shared with Anosukinom was the backbone everything else in his life was built on, and now Bade could experience it firsthand, uninhibited. “He touched you?!” Vade demanded. “What was it like? How does it feel? Does it hurt? Can you touch him whenever you want now?” “It gave him a hard-on,” Kudorin said. Bade’s shame was a hot stripe across the back of Orinakin’s neck. “I couldn’t help it,” Bade protested. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.” “I’m so happy for you,” Orinakin said, turning from Selorin and hugging him. “Not for that,” he added, laughing, as Bade’s questions tumbled through his mind. “For knowing Kudorin’s touch, for feeling Anosukinom’s love as I do.” “This is absolutely marvelous!” Anosanim exclaimed. “What are your intentions?” Remin asked. “Will you extend this privilege to Desin’s spouse, to Anosanim’s? To Xio Voe’s brothers and sister? How far does this newfound generosity go?” “To Desin’s spouse, yes, and Anosanim’s,” Kudorin said. “To Selorin’s and Talin’s and Extra’s, too. I will stop there. And yes, we will perform the rites for the others. At the time of marriage you may conduct the initiation.” “It was the most beautiful thing in all of creation,” Tano was telling the others. “I felt so hopeful, hopeful, full of hope, filled up with it. Like everything good was possible. Like there are no limits to what we can do if we try it.” “Kudorin’s including Tano and Bade in his love, and you’re mad?” Rini asked Remin. “I’m not angry,” Remin said, “I’m happy, I’m glad, I would never deny Kudorin’s love to anyone. If it were up to me, everyone would know Kudorin so well, everyone would be this blessed, Kudorin would share all of himself with all of his people. But it’s not up to me, there are rules in place, there are traditions, and we can’t break tradition whenever the mood strikes us.” “Kudorin can do whatever he want when the mood strikes him,” Rini argued. “He can play soccer with the moons if he feels like it.” “As the royal high priest, it is my duty to uphold tradition and to attempt to understand Anosukinom as best anyone can. If he’s going to make changes like

this, I have to ask why,” Remin said. “If you’d told me,” he told Kudorin, “I could have prepared the high priests, I could have counseled Tano and Bade, I could have performed the rituals.” “Are you telling Kudorin he did this wrong?” Rini asked. “No,” Remin said, in a supremely patient tone which meant that he was about to snap. “I’m telling Kudorin that had he done things differently, we could have approached this situation in a different way which might have been less disruptive.” “I don’t like for my priests to become complacent,” Kudorin said, hugging Tano. The resulting rush of love, Kudorin and Tano’s both, made Orinakin momentarily giddy, and he giggled, squeezing Vade. “It’s fun to surprise them once in a while. And if Bade had any warning, he just would’ve spent his time getting nervous. I didn’t want him apprehensive, I wanted him open and honest.” “I love you so much,” Tano said with a blissful sigh, rubbing his hands over Kudorin’s muscular upper arms. “I love you, too,” Kudorin whispered, kissing Tano’s cheek. “I want to touch all of my people,” he told Remin. “I can’t, and I live with that. But Bade and Tano are in my family, in my home, they are my brothers. You love Tano so much, you share everything with him, he’s a necessary part of your life. The unique bond Bade and Orinakin share, how close they are, how important they are to each other, how inextricably their lives are entwined now. Do you understand how important they are to me? How much I love them? You are my brother, my friend, my counselor, my priest, my confidant, my blessed child, Anoremin. When you stand before Ilanosa and pledge to share the rest of your life with someone, how can I not extend to him the love I give to you? When Bade joined this family, you all brought him into our fold and included him as one of us. Tano joins us and you do the same. Why can’t I, too, include them as I include you, love them as I love you? Do you know how long I have known and loved Tano? How long I have cared for him and shielded him and given of myself to him? How I watched Bade in his mountain home, loved him and reached out to him and watched him grow into manhood? I knew them before you, before any of you. They join our family and become one of us and you embrace them, but I cannot?” “Oh, Kudorin, that was simply beautiful,” Anosanim said, dabbing at his tears and wrapping his arm around Anikira’s waist. “Of course you should include Bade and Tano, it’s unthinkable that you wouldn’t.” “Unthinkable?” Desin repeated. “It was that way until half an hour ago.”

“Wow, I never thought that whoever I get married to would get to hug you,” Rini said. “I’ll have to choose even more carefully,” Selorin said, crossing his arms over his chest with a thoughtful frown. “Whoever I marry won’t only marry me, he’ll be one of very few people permitted the miracle and joy of physical contact with Anosukinom.” “Oh, goodness,” Anosanim said, fanning himself. “I never thought of it that way!” “Now I have to get married!” Rini exclaimed. “I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to, but if I don’t, someone out there will miss a chance to hug Kudorin!” “I find it hard to believe that you’d be in love with someone enough to marry him, but find him unworthy of hugging Kudorin and not choose him based on that,” Anikira told Selorin. “It does change things,” Selorin argued. “It rules out foreigners, for one.” “Hey!” Vade protested. “Anosukinom’s love isn’t wasted on Bade!” “Is that what I said?” Selorin asked in a tone which made everyone’s eyes roll. “In my personal estimation, the experience of Anosukinom’s embrace would be more spiritually significant to an Anorian. I view it as a precious opportunity, and I would rather offer it to an Anorian than a non-Anorian.” “I think it’s a good point,” Bade said. “It’s not that great a point,” Rini grumbled. “Do you have an argument against it?” Selorin asked Rini, his honest curiosity rising like bubbles. “Um,” Rini said, and bit his lip. “Since I have known Anosukinom’s love, I have undergone significant changes,” Xio Voe said, eyeing Selorin frostily. “As you well know, interactions with Anosukinom are life-altering, but physical contact with him is even more of a shock to the system. If an Ilaeian were to know Anosukinom’s touch, it would have a profound effect upon him. He might speak of this experience to others from his native land, spreading Anosukinom’s message. For Anorians to speak of the love and unity Anosukinom preaches can be dismissed as the typical foolish optimism of cialexes, but for someone who worships his native gods to speak this way might open hearts and change minds.” “Right!” Rini exclaimed. “It doesn’t have to be a religious conversion, but it’s still something like that. Spreading Anosukinom’s love across the world isn’t a bad thing. Kudorin’s love totally isn’t wasted on Bade!”

Bade burst into laughter while Selorin tried to explain again that he’d never actually said that, and Kudorin grinned, running his fingers through Tano’s hair. As Remin watched Tano nestle against Kudorin, Tano’s hands lightly sliding up and down Kudorin’s sides in a slow, rhythmic caress, Orinakin felt Remin’s annoyance and anxiety dissolve, felt Remin’s hope and joy expand. Smiling, Remin made the sign to the gods, and Orinakin smiled, too, sharing his gladness. Orinakin had long wished that Bade and Kudorin could share in the same brotherhood that the rest of them enjoyed. He was glad that it had finally come to pass. Touching Bade was one of his own greatest pleasures, and as he shared everything in his life with Kudorin, he was glad that Kudorin would get to do that, too, to stroke the satin of Bade’s skin and the delicious scratch of Bade’s stubble and the softness of Bade’s curly hair. “I love you,” he said, hugging Bade. “I love you, too,” Bade said, surprised, hugging him back. “It’s weird to think of other people’s gods watching us grow up,” Vade said. “I did a lot of stuff that I figured my own gods would understand, but I hadn’t counted on anyone else paying attention to it. I probably wouldn’t have done that thing with the sheep if I’d known Anosukinom was watching.” To Orinakin’s amusement, horror-tinged curiosity sparkled across the room. After a moment of silence, Desin asked, “What, what thing did you do with the sheep?” While Bade and Orinakin burst into laughter, Vade stared at Desin, aghast. “Great Grengar! Not that! I didn’t - - I just left the - - I left the latch open, the pen, I left it open, and one time I tried to feed them gruel because I wanted to see if there was any creature in the world who actually liked it, and one time I tried to herd one towards the river to see if they were actually as stupid as everyone said, but it wouldn’t go in, so I guess they’re not that stupid after all.” “Oh,” Rini said. “Right.” He cleared his throat, licking his lips. “That’s totally what I thought you were talking about.”

Part 294 Tano didn’t want to let go. He was hugging Anosukinom, touching Anosukinom’s very corporeal form, and he didn’t want it to end. This magical, miraculous moment, it was something he’d never expected, never dreamed might happen. It had been enough to be an Anorian during the time of Anosukinom; it had been enough to see Anosukinom’s physical being in person. Now he could place his

hands on Anosukinom’s body and feel for himself the perfection of his god in human form. “I love you, Inanodat,” Anosukinom whispered, and Anosukinom’s lips brushed across his cheek in a tender kiss. Raising his head, he gazed into the wondrous beauty of Anosukinom’s eyes. “I love you, too,” he said, and, “thank you.” Everything else that was in his heart didn’t need to be voiced. Anosukinom knew him, knew what was in his heart, knew all of it. Kissing him again, Anosukinom released him, and he turned to Remin. Hugging Remin, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He missed Anosukinom’s embrace already, and for a fleeting instant, without Anosukinom’s love rushing through him, he felt lonely. Immediately, he banished that thought. He never needed to be lonely; Anosukinom was always with him, all of the gods were. “Thank you.” Squeezing Remin, he buried his nose in Remin’s thick, silky hair. “Thank you so much, you’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. I never thought that anything like this would ever come to pass, but you bring me a better way of life every day.” “I didn’t do this,” Remin pointed out. “I wouldn’t have done this. I at least would’ve made you go through the rites first.” “It’s because of you.” Cupping Remin’s chin in one hand, he pressed a kiss to Remin’s lips, then another, and then another, loving Remin, wanting to share his exuberance. “You’re Anosukinom’s beloved brother. It’s only because I’m married to you that I was blessed this way today. You loved me, you chose me, and now I’ve been included in this miracle. Thank you,” he kissed Remin again, “thank you.” As people began to drift off for the night, taking their leave one by one, Bade sat with Orinakin and Xio Voe and tried to keep up as they argued over the root causes of a war which had taken place over two thousand years before. Kudorin and Anikira were whispering in a corner together, and then they started making out, and Bade politely averted his gaze. The only other people still in the room were Vade and Selorin; Selorin was listening to Orinakin and Xio Voe as if they’d agreed to be his personal entertainment for the evening, and Vade was pretending to listen while blushing and sneaking glances at Kudorin and Anikira. Suddenly, between sentences, Orinakin shuddered and turned to Vade. “Your curiosity and shame are deliciously similar to Bade’s, and that’s incredibly

distracting and arousing to me. Perhaps you could ignore Kudorin for a moment?” Red with embarrassment, Vade mumbled, “Yes, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t intend,” and winced. “Maybe we’ve lingered too long,” Selorin suggested smoothly. “If the proper resident of these rooms wishes to enjoy some time alone with his wife, we’ll excuse ourselves.” “But I haven’t said good night to you,” Kudorin argued. “Good night,” Anikira said to them with a laugh and a graceful wave, leaning back in the crook of the sofa. Murmuring something private, Kudorin kissed her and got up, coming over to them as they rose. After passing his hand over Selorin’s blue hair, he hugged Orinakin. Knowing what that felt like, now, Bade wanted to touch him, to put out a hand and feel those quick pulses of pleasure. No wonder Kudorin touched people so often; no wonder they touched back. It felt so good, Bade wanted to rub up against him and stay there for a while, basking in it. Of course Bade wouldn’t actually do that. It would be taking liberties, for one thing. Besides, his response to Kudorin was embarrassingly sexual, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. “Thank you,” Orinakin was saying, hugging Kudorin back. “Thank you, Inanodat.” Kudorin slid his hand up and down Orinakin’s spine. “Thank you for bringing Bade into our home and into our family. Thank you for letting us know and love your precious husband.” Orinakin kissed Kudorin, whispering, “I love you,” and Kudorin smiled, touching Orinakin’s face. Bade was used to it by now, but he still found it fascinating and, frankly, wonderful how much the Seven Siblings loved each other. How easily and often they expressed that love. He loved Vade, and he knew that Vade loved him back, but they didn’t sit around talking about it. As Kudorin turned to him, he braced himself, greedily wondering if he’d get to touch Kudorin again, wondering how long he could linger without being too obvious about it. Then he noticed the mischievous sparkle in Kudorin’s eye. That never boded well. “I’ve wanted to do this for years,” Kudorin said, and kissed him.

Sexual ecstasy blazed through Bade like fire, and he made a noise like a rabid animal. So good, so hot, he had to have more. He tried to drag Kudorin closer, but Kudorin was shirtless, and so instead of gripping fabric he found his hands skittering across skin smooth as the most luxurious silk in the world. Clutching at Kudorin’s upper arms, pulling on Kudorin’s shoulders, he feasted on the delights of Kudorin’s mouth, groaning as sex and bliss shot through him in thrilling bursts. He was going to have to back up, going to have to let go, and he would, in just another second, just one more instant, but fuck, this felt too good to stop. Kudorin’s hands were all over him, squeezing, rubbing, caressing, teasing open his laces, and he was so hard he was growling against Kudorin’s kisses, and Kudorin’s skin was just so sensually exotic he wanted to touch more and more and more of it. But Kudorin’s hands were on his bare chest now, and he was in front of Anikira, he was - - he was making out with Kudorin in front of Xio Voe. That thought struck Bade sharply enough for him to pull back, and he drew away from Kudorin, sucking in air, rubbing his hand across his mouth and studying the carpet for a moment. He was sure that Kudorin wouldn’t insult Anikira or Xio Voe just to kiss him, but stopping definitely seemed like the right thing to do. Even though he was rock-hard and everyone could see that. Miserable shame burned in Bade’s cheeks as he wondered how many times in his life he’d end up compromising himself in front of a queen. “Good night,” Kudorin said cheerfully. “Thank you.” “Good night,” Vade said politely, tugging at Bade’s fingers. Bade mumbled his good night towards the carpet, risked a glance at Xio Voe, realized how pointless that had been because Xio Voe’s face was eerily expressionless and gave away nothing, and left with Vade. In the hallway, he realized that they were alone, that Orinakin and Selorin had stayed behind. Puzzled, he wondered why“Tell me everything,” Vade insisted, dragging him along. “You’re going to tell me every single thing about it. Anosukinom Mutotanosa just grabbed your ass and I need to know exactly what that felt like.” Bade was pretty sure that he’d just moaned like a wanton harlot in front of Xio Voe and Anikira, and he didn’t think he’d be comfortable around them for at least a week because of that. But, great Grengar, “That felt so good, he feels so good,” he whispered. Wait, “We have to wait for Orinakin, we-”

Snorting, Vade tugged him onward. “Orinakin and Selorin stayed behind to talk about you. They’re probably back there gossiping about what it’s like to make out with you.” They wouldn’t - - oh, shit, they were, weren’t they? The Seven Siblings liked to talk about sex as much as they liked to have it, and if Vade wanted to talk to him about it, chances were that Orinakin wanted to talk to Kudorin about it. Hastily, Bade began to tug his shirt and vest together. “Maybe Anikira will leave the room.” “You were grinding your dick against her husband’s thigh,” Vade whispered. At least he hadn’t come. He could always comfort himself with that fact, weak as it was. “How did Orinakin react?” Vade snorted again. “You think that I was looking at Orinakin? Sorry, I was staring at Anosukinom ripping your clothes off.” Groaning, Bade walked faster. Kudorin had resented the barriers between himself and his loved ones, so he’d broken through them. Now he was free to touch Tano and Bade as he liked, and he did so with impunity. He spent his afternoon popping in on them, dropping in the kitchen to hug Tano, surprising Bade all over the palace. Tano was always ready to see him, happy to see him, welcoming him joyfully, and he loved hugging Tano, loved tucking up close against Tano, loved how cheerfully Tano shared personal space with him. He could sling an arm around Tano or cuddle up to Tano from behind and nuzzle the back of Tano’s neck, and Tano would keep working and talking, accommodating him and loving him back and continuing on as normal. Sharing affection with him was something Tano could integrate seamlessly into everyday life, and Kudorin was pleased by that. When he was with Bade, he stole kisses and undid laces. He’d always been very sexually attracted to Bade, and he’d been candid about that since Bade had come to court him. Bade was a gorgeously sensual treat, and he’d always wanted the experience of caressing Bade himself. He’d looked at Bade, and touched Bade through Remin, and experienced Bade through Orinakin, but now he could do it himself, now he could know the softness of Bade’s curly hair, the crispness of the light hair on Bade’s chest, the satin of Bade’s skin. He could feel how muscular Bade was, how warm. Bade had a lot of natural body heat, and Kudorin found it fascinating. He loved to drag his fingertips across the tautness of Bade’s abdomen and kiss Bade’s soft, pink lips and whisper, “I know what you want,” and make Bade blush. He loved how easily aroused Bade was, how Bade

would start moaning and groaning at the slightest provocation, how Bade had such simply exploitable desires. The right look, the right caress, or simply whispering, “I just told Orinakin what we’re doing, and now all he can think about is the way you moan when you’re trying not to come,” were a match to tinder. Kudorin usually just intended to get a quick, light moment of physical flirtation, but Bade was so easy to turn on and so much fun to play with that Kudorin usually left panting and flushed and headed for the belam. Repeated tests in one afternoon taught him that he could have as much of Tano as he liked, whenever he wanted, and it would always be just what he was looking for. And that he had much more trouble controlling himself around Bade, and he had no luck in controlling Bade whatsoever, and that Orinakin was magnificently blessed. “Seriously,” he said, dropping through the ceiling to flop across the couch in Orinakin’s office, still turned on and licking Bade’s taste from his lips, “how do you do it? How do you stay away from him?” “How do you stay away from Xio Voe and Anikira?” Orinakin asked reasonably, sitting back, eyeing him with amusement. “I don’t,” Kudorin said honestly. “I’m with them constantly, incessantly, watching and listening and enjoying them. Bade’s the whole way across the palace. You should be with him.” “I’d like to be with him.” Orinakin’s gaze skimmed over the papers on his desk. “I’d also like to pursue my goal of everlasting peace. It becomes a matter of priorities. I spend as much time in other pursuits as I can, and I make sure to get time with Bade as well.” Kudorin wouldn’t be able to stand it. “You miss Tano,” he told Remin later, pacing the ceiling of Remin’s office. “Right now, I feel it, you’d be happier if he were here with you.” “Yes,” Remin agreed, reading through requests from southern priests. “But he’s not here.” “Mmm.” Remin kept reading. “I can’t touch Anikira right now, but I’m with her. I can’t feel Xio Voe’s sharp, penetrating gaze on me, but I’m with him. All you have of Tano is your memories.” “And the promise that we’ll have time together again in about an hour,” Remin added. “Tano touches me back like he’s comfortable sharing himself with me. I like that.”

“He’s very comfortable with affection and physical intimacy.” In a contemplative mood, Kudorin sat on the ceiling. “Touching Tano feels so easy and right that I feel like I should do it all of the time. Bade’s so sexy and responsive that I keep wanting to go back for more.” “Tano is water, lasting and refreshing and nourishing, something to be imbibed in all ways at all times. Bade is huunasik, shocking and tantalizing and intoxicating. Both are addictive, in different ways.” “Bade’s dangerous?” Kudorin asked. Remin shrugged. “To me, although probably not to anyone else.” He glanced upward. “I never said that my metaphors were perfect.” Vade was going to invite a few of the guest belas to join them for the orgy, and Tano had asked to come along. He didn’t know the guest belas very well, and he wanted to meet them and help Vade choose. He hadn’t seen any of the family’s belas since first thing that morning. He wondered what they were doing, if they were excited. He imagined the bustle around the belam as they all prepared for the show and the orgy to follow, giving out last-minute instructions, organizing their props. “It must be so much fun to be part of a sexual performance,” he told Vade as they ambled through the palace. “Deliberately performing, trying to please and entertain and arouse the audience. Being in a group with others, having a choreographed role. Think about how much fun rehearsing would be! I wonder, when they make mistakes in practice, if they get punished for it. Tepeni’s punishments are so creative.” He licked his lips, turned on by the thought. Being spanked as punishment. Maybe being forced into service. Forced to repeat the act he’d made a mistake on over and over and over again until they were satisfied that he could do it properly. “I might make mistakes on purpose.” “You.” Vade’s voice was hushed, and he was staring at Tano as if he’d never seen another human being before. “You’d like to be part of a show like that?” “Absolutely! I think that it would be great fun!” Tano loved the idea. He’d have to talk with Remin and the belas about it later. “Wouldn’t you?” Vade blinked rapidly, turning a bright shade of pink. “Yes,” he hissed, “but I’d never tell someone about it!” Laughing, Tano put an arm around him as they walked. “That’s not something to be shy about. You’re embarrassed by the oddest things. I think that while I’m watching the performance tonight, if I’m not too distracted with my own desires

and pleasuring Remin, I’ll fantasize about being a part of the show, doing it with them, putting myself on sexual display.” “There won’t be a lot of time to sit around pondering anything,” Vade said. “These guys are too good at what they do.” Tano grinned, liking the sound of that. As the belas massaged perfumed oils into his skin, Xio Voe mentally rewrote the imperial budget. He was aroused, and the sight of Anosukinom being massaged and adored on the other table brought many sexual thoughts to mind, but with an orgy ahead of them, it seemed like folly to engage in sexual activity now. So he ignored his sexual urges and focused on more productive notions. When the belas finished, they helped him into a very small pair of black lace shorts, lined with silk, with tiny black pearl buttons running up the back. Then they covered him with a floor-length black cloak. Beside him, wearing a long, striped skirt and nothing else, hair flowing loose and wild, Anosukinom took his hand. A shot of lust struck him and he clenched his jaw, wanting sex, wanting Anosukinom. Eyes closing in a rapturous smile, Anosukinom sighed contentedly, tipping his face up. “I can feel your desire for me, the hungry teeth of it, the way it draws you to me.” How easy it would be to lean in and kiss Anosukinom’s upturned face, take his time with those succulent lips. How easy it would be to bring Anosukinom’s hand between his legs, to feel Anosukinom’s power burn against the hardness of his sexual arousal. He didn’t require parties or professional performances or an audience; he’d only ever needed Anosukinom. But he had committed himself to attending this orgy, had committed himself to participating. He would wait and sate his desires there. “Mmm.” With a shivering sigh, Anosukinom opened his eyes, giving Xio Voe a lazy, dreamy smile. “I can’t wait. I’ll take us directly to the party from here, so that we don’t attract too much notice in the halls. Are you ready?” he asked, looking over the assembled belas. “Yes!” they exclaimed eagerly. During the massages, they’d been talking with Anosukinom about the planned performance and how much they’d been looking forward to seeing it. They seemed excited, aroused, flirting with each other and teasing Anosukinom. Malo’s hand rested lightly on Xio Voe’s forearm, and Ula

turned to Xio Voe with a cheerful, handsome smile. “We’ve really been looking forward to this!” “Yes, a sexual orgy is often a pleasant occasion,” Xio Voe said. His gaze drifted down Ula’s lean, muscular body, over defined abs and long legs and hairless, tanned flesh. The sight pleased him. Aroused his desire. He felt exceptionally sexually-minded. He was, he decided, horny. Laughing, Ula said, “Yes, that’s true. That’s very observant of you.” Ula was teasing him. He didn’t mind. Wrapping his arm around Ula’s waist, he guided Ula closer against his body, wishing for more physical contact. More sexual contact. “Mmm.” Pressing unabashedly close, Ula smiled up at him and twitched open his cloak, revealing his abdomen and his groin. “What I meant was, we’ve been looking forward to attending an orgy with you.” Ula’s hand snuck under his cloak, caressing his chest in a circular, rubbing motion. Aroused by the touch, he lowered his head, licking at Ula’s ear, kissing Ula’s cheek, feeling the desire to push down Ula’s little black shorts. With a pleased sigh, Ula kissed his jaw, pinching his hard nipple. “We serve you to the best of our ability, but our work is private. This is one of the only opportunities we have to show other Anorians how well we take care of you. We want them to see that their beloved, magnificent king is treated as he deserves.” It was an angle Xio Voe hadn’t considered, but he knew that the belas took pride in their work, and that other Anorians encouraged them to do well. He’d learned, since taking the throne, that whenever he appeared to be tired or overworked, people scolded the belas for not taking proper care of him. “Your service has been excellent.” Palming Ula’s soft, round ass, he wrapped his other arm around Malo, preferring to have more attention. Immediately, Malo pressed closer against him, grinding an already stiff erection against him, fingers stroking tantalizingly high on his bare thigh. “You have shown me unfailing generosity and tireless enthusiasm. To see the love and desire and companionship you extend to Anosukinom would be enough, but you share it with me, as well, and I am thankful for it.” Moaning, Ula kissed him, and he tightened his grip on Ula’s ass, taking quick ownership of Ula’s mouth. With his other hand, he guided Malo’s touch more firmly between his thighs, groaning as Malo cupped his groin. “Mmm.” Malo sighed appreciatively, rubbing the hardness of his erection. “It’s our pleasure. It’s certainly mine. Oh, it’s cruel to keep this beautiful snake locked away. Let’s bring it out to play.”

“That beautiful snake is going to wait.” Anosukinom’s voice was amused, and Xio Voe lifted his head from Ula’s kiss at the sound of it. “You could do all of this at the orgy, you know. That’s sort of what it’s for.” Anosukinom was correct, and Xio Voe felt a glimmer of impatience ripple through himself as he kissed Malo’s cheek and released Ula’s ass with a final squeeze. “Let us go.” Giving his erection one last pat, Malo licked his lips and gave Xio Voe the saucy, knowing look he usually flashed around a mouthful of Xio Voe’s penis. “As always, I’ll do my best to serve and please you.” “Ah, this is just what I’ve needed.” Setting his brush down, Anosanim fluffed his hair with one hand, assessing himself in the mirror. Clicking his tongue in satisfaction, he turned away and slipped into a short, light, apricot-colored dressing gown. It was so thin that it was see-through, giving Talin an easy view of the skimpy orange thong beneath. “It’ll be so much fun, won’t it? Relaxing, watching a show, getting laid.” “Yes, just a quiet evening at home with family,” Talin said dryly. Dismissing him with a click of the tongue, Anosanim started for the door. “I’m so glad that Bade and Vade are both here tonight. Orgies are so much quieter when they’re away.” Grinning, Talin followed him. “You should tell them that. They’d be happy to hear it.” Tano couldn’t wait to get started. He’d been horny all day, anticipating the performance, all of the men, all of the raw, unrestrained sex they would have tonight. It was going to be a great night, and he was going to make sure that Remin had fun. Remin was a little tense and very randy. They’d decided to get off together just before the orgy, mostly to calm Remin down, and it had been such intense, primal lovesex, Tano hadn’t been sure they’d even get to the orgy. It hadn’t really taken the edge off at all, it had mostly just made them want more, and Tano was still turned on from it, hot with the passion they’d just shared, looking forward to the sex to come. As they waited for the belas and the rest of the family to arrive, he enjoyed the anticipatory energy of the room. Everyone was about to get laid, to have lustsex,

to enjoy the belas, and the sexual hum in the air had Tano’s dick stiff and twitching. Or maybe that was just from the way Remin kept looking at him. He’d brought some snacks, and people ate those as they chatted and got comfortable. In the center of the room was a small, circular bed, elevated on a platform. Around it were stools and pillows and padded benches. Scattered around the room were couches and pillows and blankets in comfortable little piles, with towels and bottles of oil within anyone’s reach. One of the nests was larger than the rest, and Selorin explained that it was for Anosukinom and King Xio Voe and the pharaonic belas. It was funny, how differently people approached the party. Prince Vade was shy and skittish; his belas were happy and friendly and eager for the fun to begin. Some of the Seven Siblings were relaxed, like Prince Desin, who took a plate of food and sprawled out on a couch as if having just come in from the field. Some of the Seven Siblings were full of energy, like Prince Anosanim, who bustled about with bright conversation and sparkling eyes. Most of them wore only shorts or a dressing gown; Prince Vade was the only one fully dressed. “We’re not late,” Prince Orinakin said, sounding relieved, as he entered. Prince Selorin eyed him sharply, grinning. “You started the festivities without us.” “We had a private matter to attend to,” Prince Orinakin said, a smile in his eyes. Touching his mouth, he glanced back as Prince Bade followed him into the room. Greeting everyone politely, barefoot in a light shirt and pants with very simple laces, Bade immediately crossed the room to Prince Vade’s side. Tano had noticed that the more self-conscious the Nosupolin twins were, the more closely they gravitated to each other. Remin and Tano weren’t the only ones to get into the mood early, then. Tano often wondered what it was like for Prince Orinakin to share lovesex with Prince Bade. Prince Orinakin had talked about how feeling Prince Bade’s erotic enjoyment so strongly that when Prince Bade came, he came, too. Tano was fascinated by the idea, by the thought of Prince Orinakin giving Prince Bade head, not touching himself, not stimulating himself, and of Prince Bade’s climax spiking so explosively that Prince Orinakin came right with him, ejaculating helplessly and gloriously, swept along by Prince Bade’s ecstasy. It seemed like such a profound sharing of a sexual experience, he could understand why Prince Orinakin was so enthusiastic and assertive about partnering with Prince Bade, so compellingly drawn to go through it over and over again. And it made Prince Bade seem like a powerfully sensual man, uniquely connected to sexual

pleasure. After all, it was only Prince Bade who gave Prince Orinakin this experience. No other partner communicated orgasm so potently. Unbearably turned on, Tano watched Remin with yearning. He wanted to get started. At least he could give head while they waited. Lightly nibbling at his lips, rubbing his hands on his thighs, Tano tried to be patient. Prince Talin grunted, and Tano looked up, following his gaze. A great, black fur had been tossed over Anosukinom’s nest by an unseen hand. “Redecorating?” Prince Talin asked as black pillows, striped with rainbows, scattered over the fur. Tano laughed, pleased to see Anosukinom making the spot comfortable. The door swept open and Anosukinom himself strode in, followed by King Xio Voe and a pack of handsome, half-naked belas. Bowing, making the sign to the gods, Tano watched the belas in fascination. They looked back, eyeing him frankly, greeting the princes, sprawling artfully over the black fur. They were so handsome, so effortlessly sexy, so well-made, that Tano stepped closer, wanting to be near to them. It was almost painful to be denied access to them; they seemed so friendly and flirtatious that he could flatter himself with the thought that they’d welcome his attention. While Anosukinom’s belas and the guest belas bantered with each other, tossing flirtatious challenges back and forth, King Xio Voe sat more comfortably than Tano had ever seen him, leaning back on one elbow, his arm around the bela resting against his chest. Remin was chatting lightly with Anosukinom, and Tano went over to join them. A look reassured him that Remin was fine; tempting as the pharaonic belas were, Remin was well in control. Glad for that, Tano asked if anyone wanted anything else to eat or drink. Now that he had his new, personal kitchen, he could furnish refreshments easily without running the whole way across the palace. “Do you have honey?” one of the belas asked. “He’s offering you something to eat,” King Xio Voe said. “Not something to play with.” Laughing, the bela said, “Oh, I have plenty to play with,” and shot King Xio Voe such a scintillatingly suggestive look that Tano’s pulse jumped. “I only thought that Chef Tano might give us a little show, licking golden honey from our golden prince.” It was a great idea, and Tano smiled. “We did that twice last week. It was amazing, it was so sexy, I loved every second of it.” “Honey and other such treats are best in controlled environments,” Remin said, snaking an arm around his waist. Enjoying Remin’s touch, Tano leaned into him,

relaxing against his side. “Not that I don’t love Tano gorging himself on sweetness and my body, but I’d prefer not to be the center of attention tonight. I’d like to enjoy myself without performing as the room’s entertainment.” “Tell me more,” the bela told Tano, leaning forward with interest, his hand idly sliding into another bela’s lap. “Where did you lick it from, exactly?” “Everywhere,” Tano said, crouching down for a comfortable conversation. “I mean, I started out with the best spots, but by the time I was finished, it was all over him. I was licking it off of his fingers, his neck, he was so sticky and so sweet I couldn’t stop tasting him. So of course we had to do it again two days later.” He wouldn’t be so candid with ordinary citizens, but he could trust Anosukinom’s belas with anything. Besides, when they looked at him with such open, sexual interest, he didn’t think that he could refuse them anything. More belas were gathering close, crawling over each other to catch Tano’s words. “What was your favorite spot?” someone asked, and everyone’s gaze drifted just beside Tano to Remin, assessing, appreciating. “His dick was almost my favorite,” Tano said, because he knew what they were thinking. The way they were looking at Remin turned him on. “I love licking it anyway, and with the honey drizzling and dripping down the shaft, I couldn’t get my mouth on it fast enough. The way it oozed down his erection, like his cum was the sweetest nectar, mmm, I can’t even think about it without getting hot. And the way the drops of it nestled in his golden pubic hair, he didn’t even need a bath by the time I was finished with him, I licked him clean myself.” “Tano’s tongue is very thorough,” Remin murmured, and when his fingers slid through Tano’s hair, turning him on more, Tano wanted to turn around and go down on him. “What was your favorite?” someone asked. “No, no, talk about his dick some more,” someone said. Tano smiled, enjoying the memory. “My favorite spot was his asshole. With the honey, he was so sweet, and his skin’s so soft, and I licked him so wet, so open, and he tasted so good. I got so turned on, I came on him, there, on his asshole, and then I poured on more honey, and I just kept licking, I loved it, I didn’t want to stop.” “I want honey,” someone said desperately. “I want honey and cream,” someone said. “Ooohh, come here,” and the belas started moving, climbing over each other, pushing each other down and licking, taut asses offered up for play.

“Keep talking,” someone told Tano. “Where else do you lick him?” Remin’s fingers threaded through Tano’s hair, slowly. “As I said. Tano’s tongue is very. Thorough.” The arousal in Remin’s voice pulled on Tano and he turned with a smile, bracing his hands on Remin’s slim hips and nuzzling into Remin’s groin. Mmm, Remin was already aroused, already beginning to stiffen, and Tano moaned in gratification, mouthing the hardness of Remin’s stirring dick. It would only take an instant to get Remin’s dick out of those shorts and into his mouth, and Tano looked up to see how Remin felt about that. The smoldering passion of Remin’s expression said “yes” and “now” and “I love you for this,” and obviously Tano was taking too long to get started, because Remin was already unbuttoning. Pleased, happy to begin, already eager for it, Tano licked Remin’s fingers. “Um, what happened to not being the center of attention?” Desin asked. “Don’t watch, and I won’t be,” Remin said, pushing his shorts down. Don’t watch? Was he joking? Bade couldn’t look away. Remin had a long, sexy dick - - Remin had a sexy everything, and it was useless to pretend not to notice - - and the way he ran his fingers through Tano’s hair and rolled his hips and groaned, “Ooohh, Tano, ahh,” made Bade want to go down on him to get the same treatment. Tano looked like the luckiest man in the world. And the most gloriously, brazenly uninhibited. He was in a room full of spectators and he didn’t seem to care. The fact that he wasn’t flashing any come-hither looks or making any flirtatious comments made it seem like he wasn’t playing it up for his audience; he was just enjoying himself, doing what he’d do whether they were in the room or not. And that made it especially sexy, because he was giving heatedly enthusiastic head, moaning like he’d never wanted anything more in his life, bobbing his head as energetically as if the secret to his own climax were in getting Remin off, licking and groaning and sucking like his private paradise lived in Remin’s groin. Cursing under his breath, Vade shifted uncomfortably beside him on the couch. Bade empathized. Tano didn’t seem to find it at all weird or embarrassing to jump in so enthusiastically, to strive so devotedly for someone else’s pleasure, and that casual boldness was incredibly compelling. And with an audience! In front of other people! The way Remin’s dick slipped hard and wet between Tano’s lips, the way the sinuous rolling of Remin’s hips thrust it into Tano’s mouth, the way Tano’s head bobbed in perfect rhythm, had Bade biting on his own lips to keep from moaning

out loud. It looked so good, so hot, so arousing, that he wanted to join in, to help out, to get some of it for himself. “Oh, mmmhh, Bade,” Orinakin moaned, climbing onto his lap. Immediately drawing Orinakin close, he found that no matter how turned on he was or how fascinating he found other men, his beautiful Orinakin could capture his attention in an instant. But Orinakin cupped his chin and turned his face back towards Remin and Tano. Moaning in his ear, kissing his neck, Orinakin was untying his laces, and he groaned as Orinakin’s quick fingers loosened the restriction around his dick. The sound of Bade’s lust was like a stroke of erotic sensuality rubbing right across Xio Voe’s skin. It had been some time since he’d heard it, and he found it to be as arousing as ever. Motivating, even. There was great sexual satisfaction to be had, and Bade was enjoying it to the utmost. Xio Voe wanted to enjoy it, too, to share in it. He’d been very aroused for quite some time, and if others were initiating sex acts, he saw no reason to hesitate. He handed the oil to Tak. “Prepare Anosukinom for my penetration.” Laughing, Anosukinom gave him a look of arousal and pride. “The show hasn’t begun.” That mattered not. “I am ready to begin,” Xio Voe replied, rising onto his knees. “Assist him,” he ordered a few of the belas. Then, to a few more, “Undress me and oil my phallus.” It was his natural inclination, but he’d found that the belas enjoyed it when he gave them orders. While Ket settled back, inviting Anosukinom to rest in his embrace, Tak and a couple of others moved in behind. Draping his flawless, divine body over Ket, Anosukinom kissed him, and Ket moaned, running his hands over the perfect roundness of Anosukinom’s ass. Just as he began to pull at Anosukinom’s skirt, to get the fabric out of his way, the cloth dissolved, rolling off of Anosukinom’s skin in bright colors, fading into nothing, leaving Anosukinom entirely naked. The site of Anosukinom’s beautiful human form was powerfully arousing, and Xio Voe’s gaze skimmed attentively over Anosukinom’s muscular body, lingering over those firm thighs, those strong arms, the unblemished expanse of his back. The swell of Anosukinom’s ass beckoned Xio Voe with memories of pleasure and the promise of ecstasy to come, and Xio Voe licked his lips, groaning at an influx of hot, clamoring urges. Koto and Malo swept off his cloak, leaving him naked but for his black lace shorts. The resulting round of appreciative murmurs - - as well as Anosanim’s

exclamation of, “Ilanosa, have mercy!” - - were pleasing, but even more pleasing was the way Kudorin’s back arched, the mounds of Kudorin’s ass rising as Tak crawled between Kudorin’s thighs and began to lick him open. With a lusty moan, Kudorin began to kiss Ket more assertively, and more belas moved in, kissing Kudorin’s skin, stroking his ass, caressing his body with the devotion it deserved. “You are such a handsome man,” Koto murmured, caressing Xio Voe through his shorts while Malo ran his hands over Xio Voe’s pecs, teasing his nipples. Grunting, Xio Voe found the touch a blissful torment on his aroused flesh, and he shifted impatiently, rubbing Koto’s back as sexual need burned through him. “The very best our world has to offer Anosukinom. Will you please him with this magnificent instrument tonight?” “Yes.” Groaning through clenched teeth, he undulated, rolling his hips as Koto fondled his erection and, from behind, Malo kissed his back and squeezed his ass. “It is what he will desire.” “Mmm, yes, yes, I want you, I want it,” Kudorin moaned, grinding against Ket, groaning into Ket’s kiss as Tak’s tongue probed deeper. “Oh, yes, get me wet, I want to feel good to my king.” At that sexual confession, lust growled ferociously through Xio Voe, and he wanted nothing more than to bring Kudorin all of the pleasure in the world. “You need never spend a moment wishing to please me.” His voice came out deeper than usual, throaty, as Malo began to undo the row of black pearl buttons down the back of his shorts. “I have always found indescribable sexual ecstasy and the richest satisfaction with you.” As the buttons gave way, Xio Voe’s erection bobbed upward. His own sigh of relief was lost in a chorus of lusting moans from his audience, including an admiring, “As a ek eh ta os!” from Tano, which Xio Voe couldn’t entirely decipher but assumed to be complimentary. Taking a swift glance around the room, Xio Voe made eye contact with no one; their gazes were fixated relatively low on his person. On hands and knees, Tano faced him, Remin penetrating Tano steadily with aggressive, rhythmic strokes and eyeing Xio Voe’s erection with sharp sexual focus. Desin and Selorin were masturbating a few feet away from each other, sizing Xio Voe up with obviously erotic interest. Desin’s hand moved casually, pumping his penis with a relaxed grip. Selorin’s caress was slower, an exploring and teasing touch, as if carnal pleasure were a sensation to be cherished. Talin and Anosanim sat shoulder-to-shoulder, still dressed. Talin stared with typical uncanny attention, as if preparing Xio Voe for a canvas, and Anosanim was fanning himself and whispering.

Groaning with fervent abandon as a bela sucked on his erection, Vade was gripping the bela’s hair, his other belas jacking each other off and whispering into his ears. His licentious, aching moans sounded euphoric, each one adding a knot of needy, lusting tension to Xio Voe’s desire. Bade’s moans were longer, deeper, but broke off more often into words as he panted, “Orinakin, Orinakin, ah!” His clothes were loose, half-off, and Orinakin was fully naked astride him, the muscles in Orinakin’s strong legs flexing as he rose and fell over the sturdy shaft of Bade’s erection. For a moment, staring at Orinakin, Xio Voe was unable to look away. The arching of Orinakin’s muscular back, the pumping, bouncing movement of Orinakin’s taut ass, the sway of purple hair, the way Orinakin’s head tipped back as he slid his hands over Bade’s shoulders and moaned, it all struck something deep within Xio Voe, like a memory he’d never had, and Xio Voe groaned, shuddering through a fiery streak of need as Bade groaned lustily and Orinakin gasped, “Don’t come, don’t come, not yet, please, it’s s-s-s-so good.” Thrusting into Li’s hot, welcoming mouth, Xio Voe took in the room again, his gaze zipping avariciously from one erotic sight to the next. The sinuous rolling of Remin’s lean hips. The wetness seeping down the shaft of Selorin’s lengthy erection as his fingers dropped to toy with his pink balls. Naki’s tongue flicking lewdly over the head of Vade’s erection. The naked, sexual hunger in Anosanim’s eyes. The way Desin’s thumb lingered as it swept around the crown of his thick penis. The way Bade’s hands gripped Orinakin’s hips as Orinakin slid his fingers into Bade’s mouth and rocked joyously on Bade’s erection. But the most erotic sight of all was right before Xio Voe, as handsome, sexy belas shifted and moaned and teased and caressed, and Tak moved to one side as Se slid one long, oiled finger into Kudorin’s tight, pink hole. The suction of Li’s mouth working over his aching shaft made Xio Voe groan, tense with eager lust, as he watched Kudorin’s hips pop and jerk. Stroking Kudorin open, Se rubbed his own penis along Kudorin’s thigh, and Kudorin moaned, reaching back for it, bringing Se to climax with one swift grope. Crying out, Se spurted quick strings of come across Kudorin’s thigh, splattering his ass. “Oh, unh, go, go,” Kudorin panted, waving the belas away and rolling onto his back, tossing his hair, rubbing his erection and meeting Xio Voe’s eyes. “I want my king.” Scattering from Kudorin and falling away from Xio Voe, the belas broke into smaller groups to continue sating their sexual desires. Li was the last to move, giving Xio Voe’s erection one last, lingering lick before being tugged away into Ula’s lap. Craving Kudorin’s embrace, Xio Voe crawled onto his body, moaning

appreciatively at the invasive hum of sex and power Kudorin’s touch brought to him. “Shiefa,” Kudorin breathed, pulling him close. Love and lust and that heady, intoxicating, addictive omnipotence pulsed through him like a torrent, eliciting a low groan from him. “I’ve been yearning for you for hours. Each second without your touch is like an unbearable eon of desolation.” “I’m here,” Xio Voe promised, settling against the impossible silk of divine skin, savoring the luxurious sensation as Kudorin’s deft, caressing hands roamed his body. “Here with you whenever you wish for me.” Kissing him, Xio Voe took easy possession of his mouth, and he moaned, sucking boldly at Xio Voe’s tongue. The pleasures of his mouth were legion, and Xio Voe wanted to linger in this moment, but the desperate panting and feverish moans beyond, as well as Kudorin’s own impatiently grasping hands, reminded him that there were even richer pleasures to be had. Sitting back as Kudorin’s knees rose, he guided his erection into place against the pink pucker of Kudorin’s hole. The wet head had barely brushed Kudorin’s sensitive skin before Kudorin moaned, “Ah, yes, fuck me, shiefa, ah, let me feel you inside my body,” and writhed against him in explicit demand. Eager to find his own ecstasy and ever obedient to Kudorin’s desires, Xio Voe pressed in. Ah, extraordinary! As shocking, searing pleasure spiraled through Xio Voe with voracious intensity, Xio Voe’s hips drove forward, burying the fullness of his length in tight, gripping heat. He gasped for breath, feeling power coil around his dick, relishing the energy rippling through his body, Kudorin twisting beneath him and bucking energetically with a wild, “Yes, oh, yes! That’s it, Xio Voe, yes!” Merely touching Kudorin was an extreme pleasure, and every touch was intensified during sex. Xio Voe stroked Kudorin’s legs and kissed Kudorin’s feet, savoring the sensual contact as he thrust in an even, deliberate rhythm, pulling out to the tip before plunging back in for more. Drinking in the sight of Kudorin’s perfect body writhing in ecstasy, he felt an almost physical pulse of love every time Kudorin’s prismatic eyes locked with his. Kudorin’s arms flung wide as he touched his belas, spreading his pleasure, heightening their desire. Responding to the contact with moans and cries of ecstasy, they became more exuberant in their activity, expressions displaying naked lust and sexual joy. They reached out to Kudorin in return, stroking Kudorin’s divine body, caressing Xio Voe and stimulating his already aggressive sexual appetite. The physical enjoyment of sex and the arousing visual spectacle of Kudorin’s body were impossibly compounded by the soaring, erotic bliss Kudorin was

pouring through him, the vibrant lust and passion and need and ecstasy Kudorin created in him, the power thrumming and crackling across his flesh. He knew what he needed and, even more, knew what Kudorin liked, and so he leaned down, settling fully on top of Kudorin, feeling long, smooth legs coil around him. He threaded his fingers through rainbow-colored hair, licking and sucking on Kudorin’s neck, whispering a private recital of everything he’d fantasized about that day in excruciating detail. He had learned that Kudorin could enjoy current sex, future sex, past sex, all possible sexual encounters at once, and that by doing one thing, talking about another, and inspiring memories of other encounters he could send Kudorin’s consciousness reeling in several directions. He began to thrust harder, fucking Kudorin with steady, focused intensity, driving deep over and over and over again until Kudorin was twisting earnestly upward against him and pulling his hair. While he continued his litany, a fury of sensations bombarded Xio Voe as Kudorin flooded him with pleasure, pulling him ever closer to orgasm. From the noisy rise of the belas’ jubilant cacophony, Kudorin was doing the same to them. When Kudorin began to moan his name as if loving him this much hurt - - which was a vocal tone Xio Voe had never imagined to exist, before Kudorin, but now recognized immediately - - he sped his hips, thrusting in faster, jacking Kudorin’s erection with long, quick strokes. His own body, finally loosed from his rigid control, erupted in euphoric release, and he moaned as he came, the sound of his climax met by the exhilarated shouts of belas and Kudorin’s own cry. “Ah, ah, fuck, yes, Xio Voe,” Kudorin panted, gripping his ass and bucking against him. “Ooooh! Shiefa! Ah!” Oh, fuck, yes, Anosukinom was about to come. The belas around Vade were just as worked up about it as he was. They were touching each other and whispering the dirtiest, sexiest things in his ears, getting off on watching the others and telling him what they would like to do to everyone. Especially to Xio Voe. Which he should’ve objected to - - could they speak so boldly of their king? - - except that he agreed with everything they said and wanted to hear so much more. Sinking his fingers into Naki’s hair, he stared at Kudorin’s ceaselessly bucking body, at Xio Voe’s powerful, driving hips, at the way Xio Voe’s hand worked and pumped along the length of Anosukinom’s erection in time with each deep thrust. Vade had engaged in some exquisitely hot sex, himself, but he’d never seen anything like the sex on display tonight. Like the way Orinakin rode Bade, the way they communicated through touches and words and sounds and thoughts. They were so familiar with each other, so

intimate, so connected, that it made having sex with the same person every night seem like a fantastically rewarding experience. The way Remin and Tano kept shifting positions, fucking each other, going down on each other, sharing, taking turns, reciprocating, had Vade restless and eager, enjoying each moment, happily anticipating what might come next. Tano was so free and easy, so shameless about his body and his desires, so handsome from every angle - - and Vade had seen just about every angle, by now - - that Vade would’ve been caught up staring at him in hopeless lust if he weren’t beside Remin. But Remin, fuck, Remin, just watching Remin’s fingers work open Tano’s asshole was a glorious sight. Remin was so agile, so assertive, so confident, that every single move was an erotic wonderland. The sight of Remin licking his lips and leaning in, his pink, wet lips parted mere inches away from Tano’s dick, was forever engraved upon Vade’s mind. Not even Remin giving Tano head, but just the mere sight of Remin leaning in, about to give head, was incredible. Remin actually giving head had been so sexy that Vade could have gotten off on the first few licks; mostly he’d just stared in gasping disbelief, trying to accept that something that explicitly, obscenely sexual was actually happening right in front of him. The way Anosukinom and Xio Voe wanted each other, moved against each other, a romantic fantasy one moment, an erotic reality the next: there was something too good, too perfect, too elevated about their interactions, in the way Xio Voe touched Anosukinom as if silently worshipping him, the way Anosukinom breathed Xio Voe’s name as if living and dying with each glance of Xio Voe’s eyes. But there was something raw and very physical about the pleasure they took from each other, about the way Anosukinom kept trying to drag Xio Voe closer and closer, about the way Xio Voe thrust so possessively into Anosukinom’s body. Not long ago, Vade never would have expected to watch Xio Voe have sex. But now that he could see it for himself, it was just as he might have thought. Aggressive, bold, decisive, and thorough. Nothing fancy, just the practiced application of natural skill. The gods had been as generous to Xio Voe in the sexual arena as they had everywhere else. His body was unbelievable, his dick was astonishingly goodlooking, and his partner was pure, masculine perfection. And the way Anosukinom moaned for him sent quick, hot pulses of yes-yes-please up Vade’s spine. The ridiculously sexy pharaonic belas were worked into a frenzy, and as Anosukinom’s breathless moans mounted into a triumphant, joyful shout, Vade

unexpectedly felt a white-hot burst of pure, untamed ecstasy swell through him. Coming in helpless, moaning abandon, he gave himself up to the rich treasure of explosive climax and got off in thick, repeated squirts down Naki’s throat as Ela came all over his leg. “Oh, oh!” Ilanosa have mercy, Anosanim couldn’t take another second of this excruciating, erotic torment! But oh, oh, yes, yes he could, he wanted to, he absolutely loved it, every bit of it. The belas’ flirtatious, friendly gestures and come-hither stares as they sought pleasure in each other’s bodies. Tano’s enthusiastic attitude and relentless sexual aggression. Bade and Vade’s wonderfully noisy joy and sensual abandon. They were much less shy now than at their first orgy, and Anosanim was utterly delighted to see them joining in the fun. After Kudorin’s orgasm had shattered the room and made everyone come in a cataclysmic paroxysm of ecstasy, Vade had stopped holding back and was now on all fours, giving two belas head while Naki fucked him from behind. Anosanim was, to put it plainly, envious; Vade was so lucky to have three men to play with. When would the rest of the belas arrive? Orinakin and Bade were sprawled along the couch, making out, kissing as if tomorrow would never come. Orinakin kept whispering things, and dear sweet Bade kept looking up, glancing over at Remin and Tano, at Kudorin and Xio Voe, blushing but fascinated. There certainly was a lot to look at. Tano was exquisitely handsome, and the way Remin responded to him told Anosanim that he felt as good as he looked. And Xio Voe, oh, Xio Voe! It seemed a ridiculous thought, but Anosanim couldn’t help but feel that Kudorin was a spectacularly blessed man, to have Xio Voe for a husband. Specifically, to partner with Xio Voe so regularly. That body! That dick! And the way he used it! Anosanim very much enjoyed watching men work or dance or have sex and imagining what it would be like to partner with them himself. The way Xio Voe fucked Kudorin left not a glimmer of doubt in Anosanim’s mind that Xio Voe would get him off faster and harder than he could drive a nail through a plank of wood. Xio Voe was an expert on many things and knew a great deal more about the matters of anatomy and astronomy than other people did. Sex seemed to be the same way; he worked his dick as if he understood the mechanics of sex and the limits of the human body to a degree other people could only imagine. He exploited the desires and responses of Kudorin’s body as if he carried an elaborately detailed map in his head. He matched Kudorin’s moods and fulfilled Kudorin’s desires and did it all in a very personal, intimate way, not in the cold and detached manner he approached other people and projects in life but as if he hid nothing of himself from Kudorin,

as if all of his own wants and needs were Kudorin’s to investigate, examine, and enjoy. After he’d come, Anosanim had stripped. No sense staining his clothes unnecessarily. He was fucking himself with a little black dildo Talin had found for him, and watching Vade slurp enthusiastically on the belas’ dicks, and wishing that he could step in and take over or at least offer advice; if there were anything Anosanim knew as much about as architecture and shoes, it was giving head. But the belas certainly seemed to be enjoying it, and Anosanim had to admit, Vade’s passionate gulping and fervent sucking more than made up for any awkwardness. There was even a certain naïve charm to Vade’s messy technique. Oh! “Is this why people talk about liking virgins?” “Nnn, fuck,” Talin groaned, “shut up, ah, I’m going to come.” Finally! “Okay,” Rini said, opening the door, “sorry about the,” whoa.” They’d gotten started without him. They’d really gotten started without him. Fuck. Suddenly even more turned on than he’d already been - - and he’d been with three dozen horny belas, so he’d been incredibly turned on - - Rini cupped the ardent throbbing of his dick and licked a finger into his mouth, staring. Everyone in the room was really going at it. Kudorin’s belas were in little knots all over the room, showing off as only they could. Remin was going down on Tano like he was starving and Tano’s dick was the last slab of meat in the world. Bade was fucking Orinakin, and Orinakin looked completely blissed-out on pleasure, probably from all of the sex in the room. Kudorin was going down on Xio Voe and gods above, every time Rini so much as thought of Xio Voe from now on, instead of picturing a really stoic glacier, he was going to picture that magnificent, huge, built-to-please-the-gods dick and the way Xio Voe’s hips were popping and rolling to slide it between Kudorin’s lips. Rini knew that Xio Voe was sexy, and he knew that Kudorin floated around the palace humming and caressing himself with good reason, but something about watching Xio Voe move in such a blatantly sexual manner made Rini break into a passionate, needy sweat. That was not how a frigid Jacacean moved, that was how a horny sex beast moved. And Rini had a lot of affection for horny sex beasts. Especially when they were hung like that. Selorin and Desin and Anosanim and Talin were sitting around jacking off, playing with toys and salivating over Kudorin’s belas. And over Kudorin’s husband. And Remin’s husband, and Orinakin’s husband. And Vade, who was greedily trying to suck down two dicks at once while Naki kept him moaning like a rabid but very happy animal.

“Oh,” Jekari said, behind Rini. “I’m sorry, we’re so late,” Rini said, hoping that the belas wouldn’t feel bad. “No, no,” Tepeni murmured, stepping forward. “We are right on time,” and he dropped into Desin’s lap. “Thank the gods,” Desin said, seizing Tepeni close. As the belas swept into the room, some of them went to the center of the orgy to begin the show while the rest made a beeline for Rini’s brothers. The room was busy with fresh chatter and moaning and movement, and Rini watched with pride, pleased that everyone was having such a good time. Orinakin was starting to hit that breathless high note that meant the intensity of lust in the room was so great he was about to come, and Amarito was already fucking Anosanim, and there was a whole group of belas clustering around Remin and Tano. Judging by that panting, growling, grunting sound, Desin was already coming. Rini wondered how many times they’d gotten off before he’d shown up. He’d just walked in and he was already behind! “Prince Rini?” Kelano asked, tweaking his nipple. “You mustn’t stand on your own when we have so much pleasure to give you.” Kelano smirked, flicking open the buttons on Rini’s shirt with practiced ease. “So much pleasure to take from you.” “You’re right,” Rini said immediately, pushing down his pants with one hand, reaching for Kelano with the other. “Let’s get started.”

Part 295 Tano loved the belas’ performance and watched it with wide eyes, eager to catch every movement. They weren’t only powerfully, provocatively sexual, they were professional, impressing him with the graceful ways they moved, their intense facial expressions, and their showmanship. It was an amazing, erotic show and it had him and Remin so worked up that he ended up watching most of the action while astride Remin’s lap, riding Remin’s dick, moaning and getting off as Remin kept up a steady stream of lewd commentary in his ear. The belas played to the crowd, inviting everyone to respond. They seemed to thrive on their work, enjoying the sex acts, their audience, and each other. By the time it was over, Tano had an even greater respect for what it meant to be a bela.

Xio Voe found the belas’ performance appropriately scintillating. He had expected to see erotic acts of penetration and titillation, and he was not disappointed. What pleased him the most was the belas’ use of their own natural eroticism and their talent for performance. They were skilled showmen, and they employed their strength and flexibility for creative purposes. When the performance ended, and the belas tumbled down across the room to enliven the Seven Siblings’ sexual activities, Ileka walked over to Kudorin and Xio Voe. As the pharaonic belas offered their flirtatious and sexually explicit opinions of the show, Ileka blushed and bowed. “You performed well,” Xio Voe said, stroking Se’s hair as Se mouthed his balls. “Thank you, King Voe.” Running his fingers through his short, black hair, he glanced down to watch Se work. “We hoped to please you.” Eyeing Xio Voe’s penis, he licked his lips, then troubled himself to make eye contact again. Kudorin leaned against Xio Voe lazily, rubbing his cheek against Xio Voe’s shoulder, and the physical contact sent a surge of power straight to Xio Voe’s erection, making Xio Voe groan. At that, Ileka took a step forward, as if instinctively moving in to help; catching himself, he blushed again. “We hoped that you would tell us, King Voe, if there is anything else that we can do to entertain you. We wish to serve you well and make your time here pleasant.” He hadn’t expected the offer, but it was correct of them to make it. “Thank you. At this time, I have no need of special entertainments. Your usual work in tending to the royal family will suffice.” “That’s not true,” Kudorin said, hugging Koto. “He wants to watch Banok fuck Jekari. And Adu fuck Behiko.” Xio Voe decided not to take exception to that in front of servants. The thought had crossed his mind, earlier, that he’d like to see those specific people interact sexually without the distraction of other partners, to satisfy his scientific curiosity on questions of sex and love and professional sex work, but he hadn’t planned to be obvious about it. “Oh!” Surprised, Ileka smiled happily. “Yes, Anosukinom. Do you have any preferences for acts or positions?” “We’d like to watch them engage however they like,” Kudorin said decisively. “I’m sure that they have favorite habits which work best for them.” Ileka went quickly to collect the four of them, and soon they were within arm’s reach, flirting with the pharaonic belas and getting comfortable. It looked much as sex always looked. Better, aesthetically, and more erotic, as they were highly sexual men and very well trained. Jekari and Banok were very

familiar with each other and smiled boldly at each other as if enjoying each other’s company. They moved together with ease, shifting positions with practiced harmony. There was no hint of boredom - -they were obviously glad to be partnering together, cheerful and enthusiastic, aroused by each other, approaching each moment with appreciative lust - - but it was clear that they knew each other well and had done all of this before. Adu and Behiko were less coordinated and less at ease. They had to direct each other more and make small adjustments as they went. They were more nervous but more energetic; perhaps because they’d partnered with each other less often, they wanted to make the most of this opportunity. Xio Voe tried to watch them through, metaphorically, Ilanosa’s eyes, to see some profound difference between the way they interacted with their current partners and the way they’d interacted with others. He noticed no real change. Jekari was a consummate professional who loved his work; he seemed just as comfortable and happy to partner with anyone else. Banok was as familiar and aggressive with others. Behiko seemed excited by each new encounter and each new partner. Adu seemed happy to insert his phallus anywhere it was welcome. It didn’t look different. Because lovesex and lustsex weren’t very different? Because the glimmer of promise in their relationships hadn’t solidified yet? Because they were professionals, engaging in sex with coworkers? It was all very sexually pleasing, regardless, and Xio Voe climaxed vigorously as Banok ejaculated for a second time on Jekari. Still, it didn’t look substantively different from when Banok came on other partners. “Mmm.” Kudorin sighed in his ear, rubbing his thigh. “It felt different to me. And it felt different to him.” Him? Him, Banok? Or him, Jekari? Xio Voe scrutinized their faces closely as Banok pushed cum-wet fingers into Jekari’s mouth. Banok looked happy, content, proud, pleased, and Jekari, closing his eyes and sucking fondly, radiated bliss. As if choreographed, they moved together into a deep, sucking kiss, and they both seemed equally involved, equally invested, equally glad to be there. “You should go down on Jekari more often,” Kudorin said. “He works hard to please other people. He deserves some attention.” Grinning, Banok cupped Jekari’s face in one hand, rubbing his thumb over Jekari’s cheek. “That’s what I keep telling him. Every time I go down on him, he turns it into a sixty-nine or finds someone else’s dick to suck.”

“I am not here to indulge my own desires,” Jekari protested. “Besides, what kind of man would I be if I saw a lonely penis and didn’t tend to it?” “But now you have Anosukinom’s order,” Banok said. “Sit back and let me handle it.” Sighing, Jekari leaned back on his hands as Banok stretched out between his thighs. “He always sucks too hard,” Jekari said, running his fingers through Banok’s hair. “Giving head isn’t a race to see who finishes first. It should be about appreciating the moment, drawing out the pleasure. I am so staggered by the beauty of Prince Selorin’s dick and so grateful for the chance to spend time with it, I linger over my duties and do my best to bring him lasting pleasure. Blowjobs should never be rushed. Unless the prince is in a hurry and you want to get him off without making him late to the courthouse.” Banok grinned, stroking Jekari’s penis with one hand. “Maybe I’m just not staggered by the beauty of your dick.” Laughing, Jekari smacked his shoulder. “You should be. I have an exceptionally good-looking dick.” “Do it slowly,” Ula instructed. “See how long you can make it last.” “If you make him come too quickly, you should be punished,” Malo decided. Banok eyed the belas, then looked up at Jekari. “I can accept a challenge, but you’d better work with me. If you get off too soon just to see me punished, I’m going to make sure that you get a little punishment of your own.” Jekari laughed, smoothing Banok’s hair back from his forehead. “But I like being punished.” “Are we having a contest?” Rini asked cheerfully, walking over, licking cum from his fingers. “I love games! Oh! And Remin’s here! Remin!” “I’m busy!” Remin shouted back from a pile of thrusting bodies. “We’re having a contest!” The belam fell silent. The thrusting stopped. Slowly, a golden head rose, and Remin looked across the orgy to Rini. “Contest?” “We all just lost,” Banok muttered, dropping his forehead to Jekari’s thigh. “Can I play?” Kudorin asked. “No,” Rini and Remin said together.

“What if I don’t cheat? I’ll suck off Xio Voe and I won’t do anything to interfere.” “Oh, that’ll be fun,” Anosanim said. “Let’s all play!” While everyone else got into position, making a big circle around the room, Tano argued with Remin over which of them should do what. “You have more stamina than I do,” Tano argued. “If I’m surrounded by all of these guys enjoying dick, I’m going to come much faster,” Remin said. “If I can keep my head down and focus on my work, I can suck you as long as you can take it.” “But I can’t take it very long! They’re professionals! I can’t hold out with your mouth on my dick!” “Think about something else. Think about food.” Tano snorted. “Think about you licking white frosting off of my dick?” He rubbed himself, getting turned on by the fantasy, the memory. “Think about you sucking caramel off of my balls? Think about-” “Think about anything but sex and food,” Remin amended. “Think about something terrible.” “I’m married to you!” Tano exclaimed. “You make me feel like everything will be all right! Any time something bad comes up, all I can think about is how much I trust you and how I know we’ll manage to take care of it one way or another.” “Oh.” Remin hesitated, then smiled at him, and he felt as if the sun had just risen all over again. “We’ll do it however you want,” Tano said. “But I’m sorry, we might not win.” “It’s all right,” Remin said, kissing him. “Having you come in my mouth could never feel like losing.” Tano sat down between Lokelon, who was partnered with Panori, and Desin, who was partnered with Rukesan. “Good luck,” he said, as Remin settled into position between his thighs. “Fuck,” Lokelon whispered. “Don’t look down,” Panori ordered, slapping Lokelon’s chest. “Don’t look at him, look at the ceiling.” Licking his lips, Remin drifted his fingertips up Tano’s thigh and winked at Lokelon. “You don’t have to watch, do you? You remember how it feels.” “Oh, fuck,” Lokelon moaned, gripping Tano’s thigh.

“Prince Remin!” Panori objected. “Teritano,” Kudorin called. “Come and sit beside me.” Leaning up, Remin brushed a soft kiss across Lokelon’s mouth. “I’ll be thinking about you,” he whispered, gazing into Lokelon’s wide, hungry eyes. “Cheating!” Panori protested. “That has to be cheating!” “Come on,” Remin said, getting up and offering Tano his hand. Kissing Panori, Tano said, “Sorry,” and got up. As he got to his feet, he felt someone smack his ass. When he looked back, Desin grinned at him. Laughing, he followed Remin across the room to sit between Anosukinom and the king on one side, and Orinakin and Bade on the other. “You,” Remin ordered, as they got into position again. “Don’t look down. You’re in an empty room with no one around. And you are not allowed to come.” Leaning up, he whispered in Tano’s ear, “When I scratch your thigh, you can come. Can you hold on and wait for my signal?” He met Tano’s eyes, and his beautiful, golden gaze was so hypnotizing, Tano just stared. Remin’s eyes were asking, “Do you trust me?” and Tano felt himself nodding. Yes, of course he trusted Remin, without question. He’d do anything for Remin, anything Remin wanted, anything Remin asked. He could wait for a signal. He’d wait forever, for Remin. With a gentle smile, Remin whispered, “I love you, too,” and dropped down between Tano’s thighs. Deliberately, Tano looked up to the ceiling. “Oh,” Bade breathed. “Don’t look down,” Orinakin said firmly. “Ignore him.” Vade couldn’t keep himself from looking. When was he going to see this again? A long row of hot, sexy men getting and giving head at the same time, moaning and groaning, all of those naked bodies, those agile pink tongues licking over hard dicks, all of that bobbing, slurping, fondling, jerking, sucking, and moaning and, well Vade was out of the competition early. Technically, he was out of the competition first. Which was incredibly embarrassing. First?! He consoled himself with the fact that practically everyone else in the room did this for a living. He couldn’t run as long or as fast as someone who ran every day, and he couldn’t hold off orgasm as well as someone who got head all day every day.

As other people dropped out of the competition, they got up and started to wander around, watching everyone else. Vade wasn’t sure about doing that - - of course he wanted to get a good look, but wasn’t it sort of rude to lean in and gawk? - - but Naki tugged him along, so he went. It would’ve been mean, after all, to keep Naki from having a good time, and as long as Naki was enjoying the show, why shouldn’t Vade? Every couple made Vade stop and stare. Seeing those plush lips wrapped around those sexy erections, the rhythmic bobbing, the tender sucking, ridiculously handsome men unabashedly enjoying each other in such a crudely sexual manner, it was a powerful sight for Vade. Anorian princes could literally get head whenever they wanted it, but Vade couldn’t. Vade didn’t even get to look at other naked dicks all that often, besides his own. It was exciting and sort of unreal to be in this room, surrounded by all of these hot guys engaged cheerfully in the most carnal of acts. He couldn’t see enough. He wanted to linger over each pair, to stare his fill, but he wanted to hurry along and see all of them. After a while, for fun, the belas started cheating. They stood around Selorin, moaning and crying out and saying things like, “Oh, Prince Selorin, you’re so good, ah!” “Ooohh, Prince Selorin, your dick is so big, oh, you make me come so hard!” “Mmm, Prince Selorin, I can’t wait for you to come for me, please, please, I love the taste of your cum, oh! Oh! Oh!” Groaning, cursing, Selorin came. When he looked up, glaring, the belas began to laugh and scatter, but he caught two of them, dragging them down. “If you like it that much, you can lick it up.” When they got to Desin, Naki said, “Man, I’d like to be in this contest with him. I could suck on that thing all day, couldn’t you?” Vade wasn’t sure how to agree without embarrassing himself, so he wrapped his arms around Naki’s waist and mumbled, “Mm-hmm,” into Naki’s ear from behind. The belas started to tease Desin by bending over and offering their asses for his viewing pleasure, fingering each other and moaning. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and refused to look, so they got louder, calling his name in orgasmic tones, spanking each other, begging Desin to fuck them, telling him how much they needed it. Vade was so turned on by their pleading that he started to grind against Naki, humping Naki’s satiny round ass. When Naki said, “Yeah, do it,” and leaned over right in front of him, Vade stared in wonder. It was just that easy? Orgies were amazing! Startled into action by comments like, “Yeah, go for it, Prince Vade,” and “Fuck that ass, you know he wants it,” and, “Oohh, give it to him, I love watching Naki take it,” Vade moved forward and pushed inside. Oh, fuck, it was good, and people were watching, people were cheering him on! Gripping Naki’s hips, Vade started rocking, thrusting, doing what his body wanted, what Naki wanted, what they wanted. He was so turned on by their avid

sexual interest and by Naki’s sinuous bucking and by watching Desin’s thick erection slide between Dunota’s swollen lips that he came fast, groaning, pumping Naki’s dick in one hand to bring them off together. As he came, he noticed Desin’s head fall back, noticed, Desin shudder and grip Dunota’s hair and grunt. “Oh, ah, shit,” Desin moaned, leaning back against the wall. Lifting his head, Dunota giggled. “I think you just lost.” “Fuck.” Desin shook himself, rubbing the back of Dunota’s neck. “Thanks,” he said, kissing Dunota as Naki rose, stretching. “You.” Suddenly, Desin was pointing at Vade. “You lousy goat!” Self-conscious, Vade wasn’t sure what to say, but Desin didn’t actually seem angry at him. “What?” “How am I supposed to keep from squirting all over the place when you’re moaning like that?” He hadn’t been doing anything! How was it his fault Desin had come, when all of the belas had been moaning and crying out and spanking each other? “They were moaning, too!” “You got him going on purpose,” Desin accused, spanking Rikano and getting to his feet. “It was a spur-of-the-moment plan,” Tukaro said. “But pretty effective, right?” Desin grinned. “It was a great plan. Come on,” he grabbed Vade’s arm, “do it to Talin.” “Do what?” This sounded like a terrible idea. “I’m not going to be the only one knocked out of the competition by your Nosupolin yodeling.” Kneeling down beside Talin, Desin pulled Vade down. “Ela, turn him on or something. But don’t touch Talin.” Desin grinned. “That would be cheating, and we wouldn’t cheat, would we?” “I can’t,” Vade whispered. He couldn’t just start moaning in Talin’s ear! No matter how fucking fantastic Talin looked, naked and aroused and digging his nails into his own thigh. No matter how fucking sexy Kelano looked slowly dragging his tongue up that long, silky shaft. No matter how hungrily Vade’s mouth watered at the sight of Talin’s precum wetting the blunt, swollen head. “Mmm, I’d love to,” Ela said, and his fingers slid along the cleft of Vade’s ass. Oh, shit. Whimpering, Vade wondered how, exactly, Anorian belas always, always, always knew exactly what he wanted. Oh, that felt nice. “We don’t have

to do it right here, do we?” Wait, he hadn’t said that in Anorian. “We, oh, oh-ohoh, ungh,” yes, that felt good. As Ela’s fingers stroked into him, Vade shuddered, trying not to be too obvious about raising his ass and pushing back for more. “Unnh, yes, mmm,” why was Talin so unbearably sexy? Vade’s gaze swept avidly over Talin’s perfect, hard pecs, his tight little nipples, his chiseled abdomen. The hair at his groin was fascinatingly red, a vivid tuft of scarlet and crimson, and Vade wondered if Talin’s big, smooth dick tasted as delicious as it looked. “I’m not listening to this,” Talin said, quietly and very clearly. His eyes were shut and he looked much, much calmer than Vade ever did while getting head. “You should at least be looking at it,” Desin said. “You should see the way he’s jerking and rolling his hips. That is one gorgeous ass.” “And it feels so good,” Ela moaned. Embarrassed, Vade tried to hold still, but when Ela stroked in again he felt a jolt of pure, carnal pleasure and groaned, bucking helplessly. “Mmm, Prince Vade, I’m going to love fucking you again. Prince Talin, can you imagine how he’ll sound then, if he enjoys it this much now?” “I’m not, oh! Ah! Unh! That - - oh! Yes, yes, yes, fuck, right there, like that, oh! That n-n-n-n-oisy! Ah! Ah! Ah! Fuck me, nnn, do it, I want to-” “Fuck,” Talin groaned, one hand on the back of Kelano’s neck, one hand lashing out towards Vade. Suddenly gripped with a firm hand in his hair, Vade was yanked forward to Talin’s beautiful, flushed face. His moans smothered by Talin’s kiss, Vade groaned in surprised wonder as Talin licked into his mouth. Oh, oh, yes! Pulled forward, Vade leaned into Talin’s deep, dominating kiss, wrapping his arms around Talin’s neck and licking along Talin’s tongue. Between the way Ela caressed and rubbed and stretched him, and the way Talin’s tongue licked and stroked and taunted him, Vade groaned in rich enthusiasm, kissing back harder, wanting more. Talin’s arm circled his waist and Ela’s fingers stroked deep and Vade shuddered with a stuttering cry, spreading his legs for Ela and gripping Talin closer, rubbing his hands across Talin’s silky, muscular torso. Ela’s fingers nudged just the right spot and, “Oh, oh-oh, ah!” that felt good! As Talin let him go and Ela pulled him back, he opened his eyes to see Talin’s shockingly red eyes looking right at him, and he clamped his mouth shut on another moan as Ela made his body jerk with a new burst of pleasure. “That was cheating,” Kelano said, wiping his hand over his mouth. “Talin touched Vade first,” Desin pointed out.

“I like the way you kiss,” Talin said. “Ela, you can get back to that in a second, Vade’s going to change locations. Unnecessary!” he shouted, getting up. “I have a present for you!” “I wanted to do Anosanim next,” Desin said. “Or we could go get something to eat,” Vade suggested. Talin liked the way he kissed. He’d tell Bade as soon as Bade finished, um, somehow managing not to come in Orinakin’s gorgeous mouth. “I have something to eat,” Ela said, palming Vade’s dick. His lascivious grin was so sexy and flirtatious that Vade grinned back, kissing him. “Extra will be easier,” Talin pointed out. “That’s my point, there’s no challenge,” Desin said. “Vade, what do you - - Vade. Vade!” “Mmm?” He’d been listening, but Ela’s kisses were so, mmm, breathtaking, and the way Ela’s hands were stroking his dick and fondling his balls sort of made all of the words drift across his brain and back out. “Let’s do Prince Rini,” Ela suggested. “He’ll be quicker.” Rini was sitting with his hands over his ears, talking to himself, while Satokali lightly licked around the base of his erection with tender, teasing little flicks of tongue. Satokali gave them a little wave as they approached, and Ela said, “I don’t know how he’s controlling himself with his dick in that sexy mouth. I would’ve dumped my cream all over those pretty lips by now.” Grinning, Satokali said, “Go flirt with somebody else,” and kissed his way up the shaft. “Prince Rini needs to focus.” “Three more towards the goal,” Rini said, panting a little. “Pass to the middle.” “What’s he talking about?” Vade asked. “Sakari,” Desin said. “I think he’s reviewing plays.” “Feint right,” Rini said, his voice trembling. His right hand dropped from his ear and he sucked a finger into his mouth. Immediately, Satokali grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand back to his ear. With a desperate moan, Rini settled into miserable obedience. “Feint right a second time during the approach.” “Lean over him,” Talin said, pushing Vade forward. “Don’t get too close to his mouth.” Lean over him? Vade hesitated. If he got any closer, he’d have his crotch right in Rini’s face. Oh.

Maybe that was the idea. The idea of seeing his balls swinging that close to those pretty, pert lips turned Vade on so much he was in motion before he could check himself. It had to be okay; Talin was telling him to do it. Bracing his hands on the wall, he leaned forward, spreading his legs a little. Looking down, he groaned at the sight of Rini’s pretty face turned up towards his dick as if only waiting to service him. That sexy mouth, those smooth cheeks, those delicate lashes. He’d never had anyone so beautiful between his thighs, and his blood was on fire. “That’s a nice view,” Ela murmured. Ela’s voice was right behind his neck, and Ela’s hands were stroking over his hips, and he hadn’t realized that Ela was so close, hadn’t realized that oh, oh, fuck. Groaning as Ela’s erection sank into his body, Vade rocked up onto his toes. “Extra,” Desin said. “Extra! Extra, you won! Open your eyes, you ass, you won!” “What?” Rini asked, lowering his hands. “Really?” His lovely, silver eyes opened. “Oh,” he said, staring at Vade’s groin. “Oh,” and he looked up Vade’s body, “oh,” and he grabbed Vade’s hips in both hands, burying his face against Vade’s thigh. Stunned, Vade didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted - - desperately, passionately, crudely wanted - - to do, but that was the last thing he was allowed to do, and Ela was fucking him, and it felt so good, but the motion made him sort of hump Rini’s face, which apparently was okay with everyone, so Vade held as still as he could and let it happen, enjoying one of the hottest moments of his life. Making a wild, rapturous sound, Rini rubbed his hands eagerly over Vade’s thighs and back to Vade’s ass, grabbing and pulling, spurting long ropes of white cum all over Satokali’s parted lips. Groaning, Vade tried to hold still, but Rini was sucking at his thigh and squeezing his ass and his hips were moving, fucking into the air as Ela rocked into him while Rini licked and sucked and even nipped him a little. It all felt too good, and looked too amazing, and Vade couldn’t help but come, suddenly, all over the wall, groaning, too excited to contain it. Staring down in amazement, he watched as stray threads of cum, his cum, dripped down Rini’s back. Rini didn’t seem to notice or, possibly, care. “Good work,” Talin said, patting Vade’s shoulder. “Oh.” With an exhausted sigh, Rini pushed Vade away, sinking back against the wall. “Oh, that was great.” Wrapping an arm around Satokali, he sucked on a couple of his fingers and glared at Talin. “I hate you.” Stumbling away from the wall as Ela eased out of him, Vade tried to act as composed as everyone else, since Desin looked completely unruffled and Talin was smirking. Right. No big deal. Fuck, he’d never gotten so turned on by some

thigh action. That sweet, sucking mouth had done more for his thigh than some men did for his actual dick. “I knew that would get you,” Talin said. “You’re so furry!” Rini told Vade, licking his lips. “It feels fantastic when he grinds against me,” Ela said. “Shall we do someone else?” “Oh, yeah!” Rini said. “Go get Anosanim, he’ll love it. He won’t even care, he wouldn’t want to win, anyway.” “He promised me that he’d at least try,” Talin muttered. “He’s holding on longer than I thought he would,” Desin said. “Well, it’s oral, not anal,” Rini said, bouncing to his feet. “Go purr in his ears.” Tano was doing his best to last. Remin was taking it easy on him, he could tell, and he was grateful for that. He’d already had a lot of sex that evening, so that helped. But he was only human, and Remin was still Remin, after all, so it was harder and harder every minute to control himself. He tried thinking of other things. Cleaning the kitchen, for example. Dealing with unpleasant customers in Ilaeia. And he tried to pretend that the tongue so lovingly lapping at him wasn’t Remin’s at all, but someone else’s, the tongue of some ordinary citizen he didn’t even know very well. The belas had been crowding around, teasing him, offering him their dicks and admiring Remin’s technique. He’d closed his eyes, but they kept talking, telling him what he was missing, how good Remin’s mouth looked, what everyone else was doing, how fantastically relieved he’d feel when he came. To his left, King Xio Voe was silent as stone, which was weird but very helpful. To his right, however, was Prince Bade. It had not been a wise choice to sit directly beside Prince Bade. No matter how tightly Tano closed his eyes, he could still hear it. All of it. He tried rubbing his ears and humming to himself and covering his ears entirely, but he couldn’t block out that breathy, needy, fuck-me yes-please deliciously erotic sound. Every low, vibrating moan was asking for it, yearning for it, aching to be satisfied. It was like a vocalization of everything Remin was making Tano feel, amplified. The sensual, helpless ecstasy. The pleading, erotic need. Tano didn’t have to speak Nosupolin and Bade didn’t have to speak Anorian; wanton moaning like that meant, “Get me off, get me off, please, I can’t take it,” and

Tano was crawling out of his skin with each breathy groan. The pleasure in Bade’s voice, the passion, he sounded as if he were constantly, forever on the verge of coming. And he was keeping Tano right on that edge with him. Gods above, gods have mercy, Tano could easily reach orgasm just by listening to Bade. He had to hear this and endure Remin’s mouth, too? It was inhumane. “Aw, come on!” someone protested. “We had this!” “You sucked too hard!” someone else replied. “Down to six,” Ileka reported. “King Voe, Prince Bade, Tano, Jekari, Tepeni, and Del.” Down to six. He could take it. It was almost over. He could do this. He’d just wait for Remin’s signal. All that mattered was Remin’s signal. Remin knew him, Remin knew how much he could take. Remin would give the signal any moment now. Any moment. He just had to wait. Just get through it. It would be over soon. The men from the lesis and dukot belams were cheering for Jekari and Banok. The men from the sulatim belam were rooting for Tepeni and Nasomi. Anosukinom’s belas were cheering for Del and Li and for King Xio Voe and Anosukinom. “Bade’s never going to make it,” Prince Vade’s voice said. “Be more supportive,” Prince Anosanim chided. “He might make it,” Prince Desin said. “Orinakin’s technique can’t be as good as the other guys’, so that should make it easier.” “I feel as if I should object to that, on Orinakin’s behalf,” Prince Selorin said thoughtfully. “Bade has good stamina, though, better than he used to. Orinakin’s always telling him not to come yet, so he’s gotten pretty good at holding out. Having a selfish lover can teach excellent self-control.” “Did Orinakin just, what was that?” Prince Vade asked. “A Lorbish hand gesture,” Prince Selorin said. “One a well-bred prince does not use in polite society.” “Is this polite society?” Prince Vade asked. “He’s giving head.” “It’s very polite to give someone head,” Prince Rini said. “It’s one of the friendliest things I do.” Everyone laughed and Tano wanted to laugh at that, too, at how new the thought was to him, at how true it was. But when he tried to laugh, the only noise that came out was an aching, carnal moan, and hearing himself sound so turned on only reminded him of how fantastic his body felt and how badly he needed to

come, so he clamped his jaw shut. He could do this, he could make it, Remin would give him the signal any second now, any second. “Get in there and do your thing,” Prince Desin said. “Shake these guys up.” “I think that Bade’s already doing enough,” Prince Vade said. “Start with Tano,” Prince Selorin said. “He looks pretty desperate.” “Good choice,” Prince Talin said. “Naki, get him started.” “Why do I always - - I never agreed to - - I’m not going to just - - oh, oh, oh.” And then Prince Vade moaned. Settled comfortably between Tano’s thighs, his lips and tongue toying with Tano’s erection, Remin felt a pleasant hum of contentment sing along his spine. He was happy there, happy to play with Tano’s dick, happy to enjoy this little sex game with Tano. The larger game, he’d decided, was of little consequence. He didn’t care if they won that or not. He’d amply proven himself in the past, and could again whenever he pleased. Tonight was for enjoying Tano, for enjoying sex, for enjoying men, for enjoying himself. He wanted to linger over this succulent meal of Tano’s erection, sucking tenderly and licking lightly along the shaft, relishing Tano’s struggle not to come. Tano wanted to come, Tano was desperate to come; that much was obvious from how tense he was, holding back, the muscles in his thigh rigid under Remin’s hand. During an ordinary blowjob, Tano became so involved that he spent the whole time moaning and moving, running his fingers through Remin’s hair and watching with bright, fascinated eyes. He wasn’t looking now, was holding himself very still, struggling not to react, and Remin admired his restraint, his self-control. Remin didn’t have to hold back; he could enjoy himself as much as he liked, and he did. Being sexually active again, with the belas again, at an orgy again, it was like jumping back into a cool, deep pond after a long, hot, dry summer. He felt refreshed, rejuvenated, excited, thrillingly alive. As if soaking in the pond to let the water soothe his parched skin, he basked in the belas’ lust, in Tano’s desire, in the sexually ripe atmosphere. All around him, men were enjoying each other, fucking each other, kissing and flirting, moaning and taunting. Watching him, egging him on, remarking frankly on his performance, including him as one of them, as another sexy, sexually active man.

He’d missed sex, and he’d missed sharing sex with other people, talking about it, watching it, being watched, inviting others into his erotic experiences, being invited into theirs. Sex had always been an inclusive thing for him, a case where more participants meant more fun, and now he was a part of it again, on the team, joining in and welcomed back. He didn’t care who won this contest; he was simply happy to be playing the game. And for him, it had become not a test of whether Tano could outlast the other men, but whether Tano could hold on for him. How long could Tano suffer through it? Could Tano wait for his signal? It was a private test, a trial of torment just between them. It turned him on to know that Tano was struggling, suffering, just for him, waiting for him, desperate to come but trying to endure it, giving him the power, letting him be in control. Out of kindness, he tried to make it easy on Tano, kept his actions simple, light, pleasant. He mouthed Tano’s dick softly, licked slowly, tried to keep it gentle without teasing. The longer Tano suffered through it, the longer Remin had to play with this beautiful dick, and he enjoyed every second of it. There were a lot of distractions and a lot of stimulants. Remin hoped that Tano could block out the constant chatter and not listen to the explicit comments, the lewd suggestions, the flirtatious invitations. The sexual sounds of flesh on flesh and the loud cries of passion and encouragement as guys fucked around them were enticing, obscene, turning him on, and Remin’s instinct was to join in, to keep up; it was hard to keep his suction soft and shallow when his own desires and the signals around him urged him to give it his best. And then there was Bade. Planting Tano right beside Bade had been stupid, a mistake, a rookie’s move. The intoxicating sound of Bade’s anguished pleasure and frustrated ecstasy was a lush, sensual fog, caressing Remin’s skin and licking his ears. Remin thrived on Bade’s fervent groaning; it beckoned him closer, lured him in, called him to seek Bade’s pleasure and satisfy those feverish desires. Every pleading moan made him want to suck harder, to bring Bade that promised, blissful ecstasy of climax. Remin couldn’t hear such vigorous, unrestrained pleasure and need without responding to it. Earlier in the orgy, he and Tano had enjoyed Bade and Vade’s lusty groaning, and they’d agreed that it added hearty, passionate flavor to the room, the way an orchestra’s music might add emotion to a scene onstage. And Tano had said before, repeatedly, that part of his pleasure in making out with Vade came from all of those great responsive noises. Remin knew that a man as uninhibitedly sexual as Tano had to be pushed into a near-frenzy from Bade’s euphoric, begging moans pouring right into his ears.

It turned him on to know that no matter how vocally desperate for release Bade was, or how close to the edge Tano got, Tano would try to ride it out, for him. Remin decided to wait just a while longer. At least until a few more competitors left the game. He was looking forward to getting Tano off, to Tano’s relief and satisfaction, to the spurt of Tano’s cum. Suddenly, there was a gorgeous doubling of sound. Thick, Nosupolin cursing and then a joyful, echoing moan like a ripple of pleasure down Remin’s back. Vade. The sheer sexual delight of it, the wild and unfettered rapture, made it sound as if Vade were feeling such intense erotic pleasure, he just might spend the next five hours coming, and coming, and coming. Tano’s thighs jerked under Remin’s hands. There was a murmur of appreciation; Remin’s own thighs were spreading, his ass rising as he arched his back and loved. That. Sound. Most of the Nosupolin words were too breathy and excited to be clear to Remin’s ears, but Vade’s joyous, “Yes, yes, yes,” was pounding through his veins and Bade’s desperate, “Please, please,” brought yearning heat through his body, making his muscles clench and beg. Fuck, he wanted to wrap his arms around the sound and have deep, long, sweaty lovesex with it. Twitching, agitated, Tano was squirming, trying to back away from him. Remin wanted to get Tano off, wanted to come, wanted to fuck, wanted to bury himself in this ecstatic passion. Forget holding back, forget competition, nothing meant winning so much as the triumph of orgasm. Slurping all the way down to the base, pressing his fingers inside Tano’s ass, and sucking hard, Remin dug his nails into Tano’s thigh. “Ahh! Thank you, yes, oh, Remin, ah, aaahh!” With a rising, riotous cry, Tano bucked, spurting slickly across the back of Remin’s throat. Stroking Remin’s hair, Remin’s shoulder, he shuddered, moaning gratefully. As he caught his breath, he smiled and laughed at the claps and cheers he received. “Gods above, your mouth, that was fantastic. Mmm, yes.” He sagged back against the wall with happy, fascinated eyes, looking cheerful and satisfied, as Remin crawled up onto him. “Yes, come here, fuck me,” he invited, tugging Remin into his arms. “I love spending time with your dick,” Remin said, kissing him, cupping his balls in one hand. “Thank you, mmm, I love you so much. Unh, I need to come a dozen more times after that torment.” They were shifting against each other, pushing, pulling, and when Remin’s erection sank into the tight heat of Tano’s body, they moaned together, bucking against each other to get closer. “Ah, ahh, I needed that.

C’mon, nnh, give it to me faster, that’s so, ah, ah, good!” Tano’s hands stroked over Remin’s body, and Remin arched into Tano’s touch, wanting more. “Unnh, ah, ah, you feel incredible, thank you for letting me come.” “It was my, oh, uh, pleasure, I’m proud of how well you did,” Remin groaned, thrusting in deeply. “Oh,” Vade moaned, caught between two belas near them, his back arching, his mouth open as he rocked rhythmically between their bodies. “Unh unh unh oh! Oh! Ah, Naki, Naki, oh!” Fuck, “Do you hear that?” Remin asked, his hips rocking at a quicker pace. “Ungh, ahh, please, Orinakin, oh, oh, please,” Bade groaned, tilting his head back, clutching at Orinakin’s hand splayed over his hip. “Gods above, yes,” Tano panted. “It’s like he’s fucking me without even touching me. Now that my eyes are open, I can see what all the noise was about. You and your brothers could open an inatunin were you born to different parents.” Remin had to smile at that, and Tano’s hands squeezed his ass as Tano watched Bade and Orinakin. “They’re fantastically sexy together, and that dick, mmm, it makes my mouth water.” Remin hadn’t expected Bade to last this long, and he wondered how Bade managed to stay in the competition. The deep red flush on Bade’s chest, the sweat trickling down from Bade’s hairline, the agitation of Bade’s hands kneading Orinakin’s biceps, the frustrated shift of Bade’s hips pinned by Orinakin’s hands, all made Bade seem desperately restless. Remin looked down to see Orinakin’s erection push between the ring of Satokali’s lips. With light, soft moans of pleasure, Satokali sucked with obvious enjoyment as Henisat aggressively penetrated him. “Aunngh,” Bade groaned, sounding pained. “Oh, unh, Sato,” Orinakin moaned. “Hold on, vinga. Almost, unh, there.” Scrubbing his hands over his face, Bade groaned again, tugging at his own hair. He was muttering desperately under his breath. Hearing Nosupolin prayers, Remin chuckled as Bade begged for strength. Orinakin was moaning with unabashed pleasure, hips pushing forward into Satokali’s mouth, and Bade was groaning in a kind of private, erotic agony and lightly thumping his head back against the wall, as if the rhythmic thud would distract him from orgasm. Mmm. Fire ran through Remin’s veins as he thrust, and he couldn’t just keep ignoring those lusting moans. “I think that Bade would appreciate a little help.”

Tano smiled, meeting Remin’s eyes. “I think he would, too.” It was so nice to have a husband who understood him. As Remin pushed Tano’s knee up higher to make sure that Bade had a great view, Tano peeled Bade’s hand off of Orinakin’s arm and sucked Bade’s fingers into his mouth. Bade made a choked-off sound, his eyes popping open in stunned wonder while the gathered onlookers cheered. Bade’s wide blue eyes darted from one person to the next, from one part of Tano to another part of Remin, as if he couldn’t decide where to look. First to Tano’s face; Tano’s eyelids were lowered as he lewdly licked Bade’s fingers, moaning appreciatively each time Remin pressed into him, his tongue flicking out wetly to give Bade’s fingers his typical wanton, enthusiastic treatment. Then to Tano’s ass as Remin’s thick dick plunged in and out, glistening with oil, Remin’s abs rippling as he rolled his hips. Then back up to lock eyes with Remin. Smirking, Remin held Bade’s gaze, keeping Bade’s attention as he sucked Tano’s nipples before licking his lips and giving Bade his best sensual, predatory look. Wailing in blissful agony, Bade wrapped his legs around Orinakin’s shoulders, squeezing Orinakin’s head between his thighs while he twitched and jerked and stared. Orinakin’s moans were muffled but ecstatic as he splattered cum across Satokali’s parted lips. The crowd applauded, enjoying a happy end to a good blowjob. Moaning in echo of Bade’s final, satisfied groans, Remin kept thrusting, rocking into Tano as Orinakin sank down in a tangle of bodies, pulling Bade with him. Tano squirmed and reached down, his fingers brushing Remin’s dick, and Remin thrust harder, liking the encouragement, the way Tano moved. With a sigh, as if missing Bade’s hand, Tano sucked on two of his own fingers. Mmm, yes, Remin wanted to see more of that sexy mouth in action. “You want something to suck?” Tano flashed him a playful grin. “Several somethings.” Just another reason he loved Tano. “Anything for you,” Remin promised, easing back. After a moment of lush, horny kisses, they shifted to a pile of blankets, sprawling out on the floor. Tano sat on top of him and was settling down onto his dick as a group of interested belas surrounded them. With a happy welcome, Tano got right to work, sucking down the first available dick and grabbing two more, one in each hand. Having accumulated a lot of pent-up energy during the contest, Tano was even more enthusiastic than usual, and Remin loved seeing him get what he wanted. Appreciating this perfect view, Remin relaxed with an

arm behind his head, enjoying the sight of his new husband licking and sucking the belas’ dicks while bouncing steadily on his erection. Ever attentive, Rikano leaned in to lick his nipples, and Remin asked, “How soon can we throw another orgy?” Xio Voe watched the sticky spill of Tepeni’s ejaculate over Nasomi’s lips. While the audience cheered, laughed, and offered obscene commentary, Nasomi licked his lips and smacked Tepeni’s chest. “Sorry,” Tepeni panted, looking satisfied and flagrantly unapologetic, relaxing against the wall and flicking his own nipple. The careless sprawl of his body drew Xio Voe’s attention to the tuft of black hair at his groin and the satiny pink of his softening erection. “I was watching Prince Remin give it to Tano, and I couldn’t calm down after Prince Bade came.” “We told you not to look!” Kelano protested. “Hmm, thank you.” Tepeni smirked lazily at Nasomi, then began to get up. “I think that Tano could use my help-” “If you can’t control yourself, you need more training,” Nasomi said, smacking his ass on his way up. “A lot more training,” Kelano agreed, catching Tepeni’s wrist. “What if you lost control and came all over Prince Anosanim’s luscious lips like that when he had asked you to hold it?” “I’ll help you practice,” Rini offered, helping Nasomi up and hugging him loosely. “Oh, Prince Rini, you are so good to me,” Tepeni murmured, running his hand down Rini’s side. Preferring not to test his own resolve by glancing down at Kudorin, inhaling and exhaling very careful, controlled breaths as Kudorin’s hair brushed his skin, Xio Voe checked on the rest of his competition. Jekari was moaning and laughing breathlessly, exchanging flirtatious banter with his friends, caressing Banok’s hair as Banok’s lips caressed the lengthy shaft of his erection. Del was cursing in frustration, squirming in a sexually appealing, sinuous manner, pulling at Li’s hair and warning Li to slow down. The other pharaonic belas were crowding around, teasing and encouraging. Two of them started to have their way with Li, who pulled them closer, and Malo joined Li in pleasuring Del, their tongues twining sleekly around Del’s erection together. “Not, augh, not fair!” Del protested.

“You can take it!” Ula urged. “Oops, nope,” Koto said, as Del groaned and curled forward. The two belas between his thighs moaned and chuckled, lapping up the sticky splatter of his cum. As Malo rose up to kiss Del’s mouth, the other belas moved in to fuck Li in earnest. Reaching up to guide a fresh erection to his mouth, Li groaned happily, Se’s wide erection thrusting assertively into his perky ass. Watching Ka caress Li’s jaw, Xio Voe wanted to ask Kudorin if his jaw ached from this lengthy workout. He was willing to abandon the competition for Kudorin’s comfort. Don’t worry about me. This is one of the challenging limitations of my body I most enjoy. Understood. Xio Voe would welcome the release of climax. With Kudorin’s power coursing through him and Kudorin’s mouth stimulating his already aching erection, it would be a relief to experience orgasm. Still, he prided himself on meeting life’s challenges, and he would do his best to assure victory in even this playful competition. The constant sexual activity around him did not make the task easy. Watching such handsome, experienced men cavorting obscenely with each other only strengthened his urge to come. Closing his eyes, however, was worse; with his eyes shut, there was less to distract him from the ministrations of Kudorin’s mouth, and the only way to keep from reaching climax was to block out Kudorin’s actions and presence as best he could. A flurry of laughter drew his attention, and he glanced over to see Selorin lounging on Banok’s back. Licking Jekari’s fingers as they slid through Banok’s hair, Selorin said, “Come on, Kari, you’re keeping us waiting. There’s a room full of people itching to fuck you, and you’re not being fair, keeping us from getting to your ass like this.” “Don’t listen to him,” Tepeni chided. “You have to win. Have some professional pride!” “Look who’s talking! You came over nothing,” Lokelon said. “Nothing?” Rini asked. “Nasomi was going down on him, and you know how he sucks. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did.” Lokelon snorted. “Yeah, he’s good, but he’s not as good as you.” “Come on,” Selorin murmured, his fingertips stroking down Banok’s cheeks and caressing Banok’s lips as they slid over Jekari’s erection. “You’re not going to

deny us, are you? There are so many of us, we’re going to have to go several at a time. What do you think, Talin and Adu first? Look at Talin, he’s already stroking his dick, ready to get inside you. Do you want him in your mouth or your ass?” “Prince Tal-, ah, ah!” Tightening his grip on Banok’s hair, Jekari let out an explosive cry, his knees rising as he shuddered and moaned. “Ah, ah, I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t take it,” he insisted breathlessly as the other belas laughed and scolded him. “They ganged up on me.” As Selorin leaned over Banok’s shoulder, Banok turned his head, and they shared a sloppy, sticky kiss. “Aw, man, I thought for sure that a bela would win this,” Rini said. The last competitor was down. Now was the moment for victory, for blessed release. Xio Voe“Mmm.” Raising his head, Kudorin smiled, licking his lips. His beautiful face, the happiness in his eyes, the friendly merriment of his smile, were a delight to see, but Xio Voe had the selfish wish that Kudorin might have stayed down for just an instant longer. He was so close to orgasm, so ready for climax, that it would take no more than a touch, no more than a hint of suction, a whisper of friction. Why had Kudorin stopped, why this delay? “You won,” Kudorin murmured, leaning up with a smile, and Kudorin’s mouth brushed his in a soft, intimate kiss. “Congratulations.” “Thank you.” As Kudorin showed no sign of interest in providing him with sexual release, he would provide his own orgasm. However, as Xio Voe reached for his erection, Kudorin firmly guided his hand away again. Sexual frustration was beginning to fray Xio Voe’s patience, and he found the mischievous gleam in Kudorin’s eyes to be an ill omen. This much physical contact with Kudorin should’ve been enough to provoke climax, and he was beginning to wonder whether Kudorin were deliberately keeping him upon the precipice. Keeping his voice level, Xio Voe said, “I wish to experience orgasm now. This further delay is unpleasant.” “But you won,” Kudorin said cheerfully. “There should be something special about the moment, shouldn’t there?” “If you wish to indulge your whimsical nature, then tie a celebratory bow around my erection. I request that you do so with alacrity.” “Kudorin,” Remin chided lightly, “let the man come.”

“I love watching men get off, don’t you?” Kudorin asked, sitting back comfortably between Xio Voe’s feet. “Yes,” Tano said, “I do.” “Mmm, there’s nothing like it,” Koto said, sighing fondly. “Let’s watch,” Kudorin said, guiding Tano and Koto to sit on either side of himself, an arm around each waist. “Come in close, enjoy the show,” he urged, gesturing to the others. As everyone gathered around, the pharaonic belas clustering closest, Rini on Banok’s back, Xio Voe clenched his jaw. He did not wish to squirm, but his body’s pressing sexual needs were making him tense, restless. Pleasure and power pounded up his legs from where Kudorin sat, making his thighs burn, and the tantalizing promise of ecstasy pulsed in his groin, taunting him, so close, so close. “Don’t touch yourself, I’ll take care of it,” Kudorin said blithely. “But you can touch them, if you want.” Fine. Xio Voe wrapped an arm around Li on his left and Ula on his right. “If Anosukinom doesn’t provide me with orgasm in the next ten seconds, complete the task for him.” While Ula chuckled and stroked his chest, sending a hot glimmer of pleasure down to his groin, Li whispered, “It would be an honor,” and nibbled at his earlobe. “Nine,” Desin said. “Eight.” “Ready?” Kudorin asked, grinning cheerfully, kissing Tano’s cheek. “Seven.” “Inanodu above, I can’t take this,” Panori said, masturbating, his hand pulling rhythmically on his pink shaft. “All I can think about is sitting on it.” “Six,” Desin said, and Xio Voe felt it rising, pumping, the potential for it, the pressure of it. “He’s our king,” Tano said. “He should at least come in someone’s mouth.” “Five.” Yes, yes, closer now, so close. Xio Voe rubbed his toes against Kudorin’s knee, groaning in grateful arousal as Kudorin smiled and caressed his foot. “He can come in my mouth any time he wants,” Ula offered, kissing his neck. “Four.” Seconds away, it was seconds away. Sliding his hand into Ula’s hair, Xio Voe tipped his head back, spreading his thighs. His pleasure, his attention, it was

all centered in his dick, and the tension, the anticipation, it built with each moment, each breath. “Three.” As Xio Voe closed his eyes, trying to bear it, feeling his own passion build with each jolt of power Kudorin sent racing up his thighs and spiraling through his body, he heard an impatient, desperate, “Come on, come on,” and a hushed, thrilled, “Fuck, now all I can think about is sitting on it.” “Two.” He couldn’t hold it in anymore; pushing his fingers into Li’s mouth, Xio Voe groaned, having trouble controlling his breath now, feeling wild energy race through his body. Twisting in needful anguish, he wanted to fuck someone, anyone, to bury his dick in the closest willing body, in Kudorin’s mouth. He was so hard that it hurt, his penis so red and swollen that it looked angry, bloated, jutting upward like a distress signal, begging for help, mercy, the blessing of a tender touch. “One.” Ecstasy erupted through Xio Voe’s body, spiking through him in a frenzied storm of rapture. His breath caught in his throat as euphoric spasms seized him, and he clutched at the belas, his body shuddering through a feverish fit of orgasm. As climax exploded within him, he ejaculated into the air. The first shots took him by surprise, zinging straight up to remarkable height before arcing back down. They were followed by more shots of two pulses at a time, thick spurts which splattered heavily across his skin when they landed. Was it a trick of the light, or were they glistening with faint color? Feeling hot, sharp spikes of ecstasy, shuddering with it, Xio Voe stared as he realized that he was coming in color, in streaks of blue, pulses of pink. They landed on his chest, on his thighs, sticky and lustrous streaks of cream. Kudorin made a quiet, pleased sound, and white-hot pleasure lanced Xio Voe with unbearable ecstasy, as if the earlier stages of his orgasm had only been a hint of the paradise to come. The shocked reactions of the crowd sounded far away as he gasped in air, his body shuddering through this new, shocking bliss, and Xio Voe came like a fountain, his ejaculate pouring out in a brilliant, glistening waterfall. Thick and faintly colored, as if seen through a prism, it pooled on his chest and dripped down his thighs. The powerful grip of climax shook him and he groaned deeply, feeling as if his body had been transported to an erotic fantasy of endless ecstasy. His erection began to throb in deep, constant rhythm and ejaculate spurted from it with each pulse, each ropy blast of it a different hue. He couldn’t catch his breath and he couldn’t stop coming and his body was jerking with each impossible jolt of mind-bending pleasure.

Each profound, lasting throb brought a searing squeeze of ecstasy which devastated his body and blurred his vision, but they were farther apart now, giving him a chance to suck in air before the next one took him again. His ejaculate sparkled brilliantly like a shower of diamonds one moment, then squirted frothy pulses of purple. It didn’t surprise him that Kudorin would play so cheerfully with his body; it only surprised him that it didn’t happen more often. Sighing in contentment, Kudorin met his eyes. There was peace, and Xio Voe exhaled, letting his body relax as the last echoes of that cataclysmic orgasm faded. “Wow,” Rini said, as everyone burst into applause. And then the pharaonic belas descended on him with carnivorous cries. Lapping up the generous puddle of his colorful ejaculate, which shimmered on his skin like a pearly cream, they fed it to each other, licking it from their fingers, sucking it up with happy, feasting moans. Their busy tongues and hungry mouths dripped with his cum as Rini dove in, licking a trail of semen dripping from his hip. “Oh!” Rini licked his lips and went in for more. “Mmm! It’s sweet!” “It’s so good,” Se groaned, sucking it from his balls. “Sweet?” Crawling forward with immediate interest, Tano ran his fingers across the thick pool on Xio Voe’s abdomen and tasted. His eyes lighting up, he smiled. “It tastes like vanilla frosting! It’s melted vanilla frosting!” “Out of my way,” Remin ordered, and Kudorin laughed as Remin claimed a spot at Xio Voe’s side. The belas kept shifting, making room for each other, climbing over each other, making space for new people to get a taste. While Vade sucked cum from Tano’s fingers, Remin’s tongue licked in broad, wet stripes over Xio Voe’s chest. Finding pleasure in the sensual attention, Xio Voe ran his fingers through Remin’s silky, gold hair, smiling at Kudorin while Remin sucked his nipples and the belas jockeyed for position between his thighs. Kudorin had such fun toying with colors and textures and materials, “I suppose it was inevitable that I become your plaything.” Kudorin was at his side, suddenly, touching his mouth and kissing his cheek. “Yes, and one of my favorite playthings.” He kissed Kudorin’s mouth, and Kudorin relaxed against him, sucking at his lower lip. “Mmm. It’s so good to see everyone having such a good time. When they’re finished, will you fuck me? Panori’s right,” Kudorin’s eyes shone with warmth and desire, “I wanted desperately to sit on it. You feel like a miracle inside me.”

Part 296 As the orgy continued, Bade re-learned the always inspiring lesson that no matter how many times he came, it never stopped feeling fantastic. Climbing off of Orinakin, Bade slumped, catching his breath. While Depano handed him a drink and fed Orinakin some fruit, he glanced around the room, watching everyone else and trying not to get caught staring. Overall, he was more used to orgies now. He’d grown more accustomed to participating in one hot, incredible night of uninhibited sexual congress and then spending the next few civilized months acting as if he weren’t privy to the way Kudorin gave head or the sight of Anosanim’s asshole spread wide around a bela’s dick. The others, he guessed, didn’t view the orgy in quite the same way. They knew what they knew, they’d seen what they’d seen, and they had no trouble watching Bade have raw, rutting sex right in front of their eyes and then asking him if he’d heard back from his mother yet about the letter he’d sent. Bade couldn’t do that. Not nearly as fluidly. He wasn’t used to this kind of sexual freedom, and he’d never really learned to deal with someone sexually and then deal with that person in everyday life. Well, not besides Orinakin. And he still had trouble with Orinakin, sometimes, had trouble listening politely to Orinakin give a speech while his mind was conjuring up memories of how Orinakin had undressed him the night before, how Orinakin’s tongue had stroked up the shaft of his erection, how Orinakin had called out his name and begged him for more. So he had trouble, after the orgies, looking at Orinakin’s brothers and not thinking about, for example, the way Selorin had the belas crying out lustily, the way Desin’s muscles bunched and flexed and rippled as he fucked, the way Rini looked with an assful of dick and a mouthful of balls. The way Talin smirked during ordinary conversation was so much like the way he smirked when he got a bela off, Bade didn’t know why no one else seemed to find that look disturbingly sexual. Still, no one else had any trouble assimilating private, sexual information with everyday interactions, so Bade smiled and nodded during the weeks after each orgy as if he were simply enjoying Anosanim’s conversation and not flashing back to the sight of Anosanim cheerfully, gracefully servicing four men at once. As if watching Anosanim apply lipstick and eyeing that full, shiny pout didn’t conjure memories of those lovely, lush lips wrapped around Tukaro’s dick, that pretty tongue licking deftly over the plump head, Anosanim’s cheeks hollowing as - - yeah, Bade usually had no idea what Anosanim said after the first few sentences.

And now he had Remin and Tano and Xio Voe to add to the list of people he was going to get an immediate hard-on around all month. And he was always going to associate vanilla frosting with Xio Voe’s cum now. Which was going to make dessert time unnecessarily erotic and awkward for the rest of his life. He’d used to worry - - quite naturally, he’d thought - - that once Orinakin’s brothers had seen him have sex, it would change their view of him. But it never seemed to. And that was nice, actually. Orinakin snorted. Curious, Bade looked over at him. Orinakin looked right back with an amused, fond expression. “What?” Bade set down his drink, self-consciously licking his lips. “You haven’t at all noticed that for at least the first week after every orgy, my brothers lust after you even more than usual? They find excuses to be around more, they touch you completely unnecessarily, they eye you as if they’re trying to decide where to bite first.” What?! “That’s not true at all,” Bade protested, surprised and embarrassed. He looked around to see if anyone had overheard, but they were all pretty busy. Blushing, he dragged his gaze away from Remin and Tano. “Even if I couldn’t see their interest and their erections with my own eyes, I can feel their lust.” Orinakin’s tone was so reasonable, so matter-of-fact, that Bade couldn’t stay flustered. Maybe Bade wasn’t alone in being affected by the orgies? “We always want you more after nights like this,” Depano told Bade with a smile, feeding him a soft, sweet berry. “We talk about how sexy you are and we do some role-playing.” Bade had to ask. “Role-playing?” “Sure!” Depano’s smile was bright. “We play that we’re Nosupolin belas in the service of you and your brothers. Or that we’re Nosupolin citizens, shepherds in the field, and we have to beg our Prince Bade for leniency in some matter, or you come among us in disguise looking for rowdy lustsex and we realize that it’s you but the fucking is so good we can’t stop. It’s fun! And it’s really helping my Nosupolin, we practice while we’re playing.” In accented Nosupolin, he asked, “I’ll hose down your face, now?” with a cheery smile. Great. Grengar. “I,” Bade said, and didn’t know what else to say to that. “I love those games,” Orinakin said. “Could we play them with you?”

“Yes! Fuck, that would get me off so fast.” Depano hugged Orinakin and kissed Bade. “We’d love it if you’d play with us. Do you want to play now, while Prince Vade’s here? We could-” No! No, no“Yes!” Orinakin said. “Vade would love it.” “No!” Bade couldn’t - - he wasn’t - - in front of people?! “You wouldn’t deprive Vade of this opportunity, would you?” Orinakin asked him. And then Orinakin smiled, eyes glittering. “You wouldn’t deprive me of this opportunity, would you?” What? What did he mean by that? “You want to?” “I’m just a lonely goatherd,” Orinakin murmured in Nosupolin, curling an arm around Bade’s neck. “It’s so quiet out here, there’s no one but the goats to see. So sometimes I masturbate, to pass the time, and while my dick is out and I’m so hard I can’t help but think about Prince Bade, and how handsome he is, and what he might do if he came upon me out here, tugging myself. Maybe he’d be shocked, maybe he’d,” Orinakin licked his lips, “scold me.” Orinakin’s breathless tone turned Bade on so much he had to look down to see if, yes, Orinakin was hard, too, and touching himself. “Maybe he’d like it, maybe he’d enjoy seeing me tugging on myself, maybe he’d do it, too. Maybe we’d suck on each other, maybe we’d fuck each other, I want him so much and no one has to know. Unh, Grengar above, the thought of him giving it to me out here in the grass has me so randy I don’t know what I’ll do. Oh, oh, Prince Bade.” Bade might have tried to pretend that he’d never fantasized about fucking shepherds, but he couldn’t begin to deny that Orinakin looking at him like that and moaning his name didn’t get to him. Regardless of his personal shame, if Orinakin wanted it and the belas wanted it, it was bound to feel good to his dick. And he was already at an orgy, so personal shame was sort of relative. He wanted to fuck Depano again, and he wanted to fuck Orinakin now. “For Vade,” he mumbled, kissing Orinakin’s sexy, laughing mouth. “Yeah, okay, for Vade.” Tano loved role-playing! When he noticed what the others were doing, he got into the spirit. Prince Bade and Prince Vade were what they already were, Nosupolin royalty, and everyone else was a shepherd or goatherd or some sort of farmer or townsperson. Prince Desin was the blacksmith. Prince Vade kept trying to tell them that Nosupolin citizens wouldn’t be so bold or so shameless, so Tano decided to be a sex worker; surely sex workers could be unabashedly forward. He was as assertive as he liked about initiating encounters, and the

belas ordered him around some. Tepeni, explaining a lack of coins, offered to pay him in goat’s milk, and when he agreed, Tepeni came on him as payment. It was so much fun that he arranged for everyone to pay him in goat’s milk. Remin, of course, was his favorite customer, and while the randy farmers who’d been toiling too long in the field and were in fierce need of a good fuck teamed up on him, all demanding to be serviced at once, Remin kept his dick busy while he tended to all of theirs. This was the best game ever! Rini loved being a Nosupolin herder! He didn’t get to stay a herder for long, though; Tepeni rounded him up to join a herd of belas, teaching him to crawl and obey. Tepeni taught them tricks, whipping them if they tried to stray from the herd. When Tepeni sent the herd to please the princes, Rini escaped to work on Lokelon’s farm. Lokelon was so brutal and demanding, Rini fell into a torrid affair with sweet, young Behiko who toiled beside him in the fields. Together, they ran away one night, but neighboring farmer Amarito caught them, took advantage of their distress, and then took them back to Lokelon, who punished them severely for their betrayal. After seducing Lokelon’s other neighbor, Rikano, and convincing Rikano into hiring him away, Rini was initiated into a secret club of laborers and taught their private methods before Amarito kidnapped him, taking him away in the night, having been unable to forget about him after their wild night of passion. Rini worked on Amarito’s farm for a while, struggling to sate Amarito’s feverish sexual appetites, but the time came when he couldn’t handle all of the work himself and had to hire new laborers. He was trying out the candidates, testing their skills and letting them vie for his attention, when Amarito betrayed him by hiring the local sex worker instead. Rini decided to work for the sex worker instead of Amarito, so he learned from Tano, helping Tano to try to keep all of the local men satisfied. Kelano convinced him that he was better than Tano, that he should try to go off on his own, so he became independent, opening his own business. Immediately, he and Tano were at odds, competing for their clients’ attention, trying to outdo each other. Role-playing like this was one of Rini’s favorite kinds of games, because everyone had fun and nobody lost. He never did make it to the palace to offer his body to the princes, but maybe next time! Vade had enough masturbatory material to keep him busy for the rest of his life. There were just enough Nosupolin phrases scattered throughout it all that he

was sure this night would be brought to mind during even the most mundane activities for years to come. Kudorin smiled, watching the princes satisfy lusty goatherds while the local blacksmith seduced a bashful virgin. “I would like to be a farmer. A lonely, horny, bachelor farmer. Who are you?” he asked, turning his gaze to Xio Voe. Seated beside him with perfect posture, Xio Voe watched Nosupolin citizens cavort. “Heir Xio Voe.” Laughing, Kudorin didn’t know which amused him more, the fact that Xio Voe would role-play as Xio Voe, or the fact that Xio Voe thought that reverting to a different title counted as role-playing. “No longer a king, now a lowly Heir?” Xio Voe shot him a look for “lowly,” but merely said, “Precisely.” “Are you here to conquer Nosupolis?” Xio Voe’s upper lip curled in amusement. “I am here on a reconnaissance mission, sending my spies to infiltrate the local populace.” He snapped his fingers and all of the nearby belas looked at him. “Some of you are my spies.” He smiled. “You know which ones you are.” As the belas eyed each other with new interest, Kudorin smoothed his hair back, trying to look ordinary. “You’re here undercover, then? Pretending to be a stranger, a visiting foreigner, some average citizen from a nearby country?” “Yes. I am,” Xio Voe refused to smile but Kudorin knew that he wanted to, and loved him for it, “a mysterious stranger. A foreigner passing through your village. Will you permit me to stay the night?” “Got plenty of room,” Kudorin admitted, slipping into Nosupolin, rubbing his chin. “Suppose you could spend the night, if you don’t mind a bit of noise. I often get up during the night and walk around some. I’m alone here, but you don’t look the dangerous type.” “Thank you,” Xio Voe said quietly, eyeing him with a hint of a smirk. “I’m quite safe, I assure you. It’s very kind of you to open your home to me. What is your name, farmer?” The sun was up, so Kudorin must have left the orgy at some point, but no one had actually seen him or any of his brothers. No one had seen Xio Voe, either, which Anikira found even more interesting.

Opening the door, she found the orgy still going strong. A tangle of gleaming, thrusting male bodies covered the floor. She saw mostly black-haired Anorians, making it easy to pick out the members of royalty with their brighter hair. Everyone looked awfully busy, and she smiled, appreciating the view. “Oh, come on!” Rini protested, spotting her. “Already?!” “You don’t have to stop,” she told him. “But everyone who isn’t Rini and isn’t a bela has a country to run.” “I run the country, too!” Rini protested. Wincing, she said, “Yes, I’m sorry, I phrased that poorly.” “Yes, you’re a mighty ruler,” Nasomi told him, toying with his dick. “Your faithful subjects are eager to please you. Command us, Prince Rini, lead us to fulfillment.” Rini laughed, pushing his hand away. “I’m not going to fuck you if you make fun of me.” Anikira would’ve lingered, but Bade and Vade were embarrassed, covering up, and she didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. Taking a last look, she blew a kiss to Kudorin and reminded Remin, “Meeting with the clinic directors in an hour.” “An hour?” Remin demanded. “I’ll start breakfast,” Tano said, getting up. Whew, he made a nice addition to the family. Mmm, Remin had made a good choice, there. “I’ll help you,” Panori offered. “I’ll bathe Prince Remin,” Tepeni offered, as Anikira turned away. “I’ll dress him!” So nice to have things back to normal. Sleepy but happy, Tano had plenty of energy to make breakfast. A few hours later, though, his lack of sleep started to make itself known. “…so we might want to add some salt to perk up the flavor,” he explained to Lo Ariside. Catching himself in another yawn, he shook his head. “Mmm, forgive me.” Typically, Lo Ariside minded her own business and didn’t comment, but Koso asked, “Late night last night?”

“I didn’t get any sleep.” He didn’t feel tired, though; he couldn’t, not with such fun, exciting memories rolling through his brain. His muscles ached in the most wonderful ways, reminding him of exactly what he’d been doing. Koso snickered. “Guess that explains why you’re walking so stiffly.” Lo Ariside thwacked a head of lettuce in half. “Instead of speaking to Chef Pitok as if he were one of your frivolous friends, put your attention to dicing those onions.” While Koso rolled his eyes and got back to his task, Tano smiled, his thoughts drifting back to last night as he stirred and tasted. All of those hot, sexy men. Fucking Remin, fucking the belas, being fucked, over and over again. Coming so hard, so many times. Being sated and exhausted but looking up and seeing such erotic acts of carnality that he’d eagerly joined in for more. The endless pleasures. The contests and games and plain, joyous fucking. Remin, Remin’s dick between his lips, the lust in Remin’s eyes. The taste of vanilla frosting. Kudorin was lounging on Anikira’s desk, waiting for her to come back, when a servant approached with a small, covered platter. Not a typical servant, but Li. Sitting up, Kudorin grinned. “Running errands for the kitchen, now?” Stepping right between his spread thighs, Li smiled, perfectly balancing the platter on one hand. “I stopped by to give my regards to Chef Pitok, and he asked if I might do a little something for him.” Running his hands over Li’s lean, muscular body, touching as he liked, as if he hadn’t gotten his fill of sex last night, Kudorin smiled as Li purred with pleasure. “Chef Pitok sends me a gift?” With an arm around Kudorin’s shoulders, Li leaned against him, nearly naked body warm against his bare chest. “A delicious treat.” “Yes, you are,” Kudorin murmured, snaking an arm around his waist and kissing his cheek. Removing the lid from the platter with a thought, Kudorin burst into happy laughter. It was a cupcake. With vanilla frosting. Remin sorted through paperwork and correspondence as his assistant briefed him for the day.

“…and Lo Temaruk has requested another meeting to discuss his clinic’s budget.” Remin looked forward to a week when he didn’t hear from Lo Temaruk. “Explain to him that his budget is not up for review for another five months and I will be happy to consider his concerns then.” “Yes, Prince Remin. And this was sent from the Royal House of Art.” Oh? With interest, Remin accepted the package. A slim rectangle wrapped in cloth. A book, maybe? As soon as he was alone, seated behind his desk, he untied the bundle, removing the soft, red cloth. A sketchbook? Curious, he flipped it open. Tano. Blinking, Remin stared down at the sketch before him. It was Tano, standing at a counter in their private kitchen, smiling cheerfully and kneading dough. It was so real, so evocative, that Remin gazed at it in wonder, loving Tano, remembering a dozen moments just like that one. Those strong hands, gripping, working. Tano’s insistent work ethic, Tano’s good nature, the genuine happiness in that handsome smile. It was so uncannily realistic that it seemed as if Tano might look at him, might speak. It was Talin’s sketch; it could be no one else’s. Finally, Remin flipped the page to see if there might be another. There was another, and another after that. The sketchbook was full, each page bringing him another, vibrant moment with Naritano. Laughing, talking, hard at work in the kitchen, Tano was there. The way his eyes lit up so warmly when he smiled, the way his mouth softened when he gazed at Remin, the way he closed his eyes when he really wanted to taste something. He gazed out from the sketchbook’s pages with hope and yearning and eagerness and the particular devoted adoration meant only for Remin. It was a treasure chest full of Naritano, of the moments and images Remin would always think of when he thought of his husband. How friendly Tano was, how hard Tano worked, how much Tano loved him and food and life. For Talin to give this to him, to put such attention and effort into these sketches, Talin had to know and love him so well, to know and love Tano so well, Remin thought it a momentous gift. As they discussed tapestries, Anosanim and Talin undressed for bed. While Talin went to the board by the door to request a few belas, Anosanim noticed a scrap of paper on the floor by Talin’s clothes. Picking it up, he recognized Remin’s handwriting.

My dearest 86, May the gods smile upon you. You are so truly blessed by Alanohi that I marvel at your skill. And I am so truly blessed by Ilanosa and Tinanosa that I thank the gods each day for their gifts. You have the talent and the insight to bring life to art, but I know a greater blessing: I have you for my brother. Blessings upon you, 92 Moved, delighted, Anosanim felt a rush of love and pride. “You gave him the sketchbook!” “Mm?” Talin pretended not to know what he meant by that, then shrugged. “I was finished with it.” Making the most of his extended time in Orina Anoris, Vade decided to get more information from Selorin about his monthly indulgences. Vade was still fascinated by Selorin’s boyfriends. A prince with boyfriends. A new one each month! The luxury of it, the self-indulgence! For Vade, being royalty had always meant duty and responsibility, respectability and reputation. Selorin lived the life of a prince from storybooks, frivolous and hedonistic. Vade loved it. The idea of Selorin hiring a personal secretary just to find boyfriends for him, as if the sexy, smart, handsome, interesting guys Selorin already had weren’t good enough, struck Vade as hitting a record high in self-indulgence. He hung around the courtroom one day, making sure that when Selorin’s new secretary, Hasano, showed up, he was already firmly ensconced in Selorin’s office. Since Selorin didn’t ask him to leave, he stuck around for their meeting. Hasano was a very organized, thorough young guy. He had lists of the qualities Selorin wanted in a boyfriend, ranked in order of importance. He also had lists of qualities Selorin wouldn’t tolerate. He’d already begun to interview Selorin’s previous boyfriends and was arranging meetings with future candidates. As the two of them discussed how Hasano should best organize dossiers to help Selorin decide which candidates to meet, Vade read over Hasano’s notes. Championship athletes. Renowned artists. Sought-after sex workers. There were people in there Vade had heard of, and Vade only knew a handful of Anorians! Thinking it over, he was only surprised that Selorin hadn’t already dated these men.

As Hasano left, Selorin sat behind his desk again. Leaning back, he crossed his legs. “I’m sorry that he can’t find men for you, too. It never ceases to frustrate me that your repressive cultural mores restrict your sexual activity.” On the couch, Vade snorted. “Do you expect me to say ‘thank you,’ as if I don’t hear the insult in there?” “Insult?” Selorin asked. “Or truth?” “It can be rude to speak the truth,” Vade said. “Being honest can be mean, depending on the situation.” Selorin’s smile was thoughtful and amused. “That’s one of the many reasons I so greatly enjoy speaking with Orinakin. He makes an effort to keep his conversation honest yet positive and optimistic.” “Why wouldn’t you argue for the truth before all things? Putting a positive spin or a negative spin on it makes it less direct, doesn’t it? You care so much about the truth and fairness, why don’t you just want the bald facts?” “Bald facts have their place. But in everyday discourse, people’s interpretations of the facts color their conversation. The facts of the case may be that you are wearing what is literally the ugliest shirt ever to grace a human body. When you ask, ‘Do you like my new shirt?’ you’ll get a variety of answers. Xio Voe will say, ‘No.’ Orinakin and Anosanim will find something positive to say about it. It has a very interesting, asymmetrical cut or it bears an unusual combination of colors. Then they’ll find a kind way to figure out how you feel about it, how invested you are in wearing it, and whether you should try something else. Someone else will say that it’s hideously ugly, it’s so grotesque that it deserves to be set on fire, and you’re a fashion-backwards fool for ever attempting to wear it in decent society. It’s true that the shirt is hideously ugly, and it’s true that only some foolishly ignorant to fashion would wear it. But I’d rather speak with Orinakin, who is honest and pleasant, than with someone who uses the truth as an excuse to be rude.” Hunh. “It’s funny. I think of Xio Voe as being brutally honest, but it’s because he’s so blunt he’ll say, ‘No,’ right to your face. He doesn’t go so far as to take the opportunity to pile on insults unless he’s actually pissed off.” Selorin grinned. “And, since he’s Xio Voe, he’s often too reserved to let anyone affect him enough to piss him off.” “I’d be a horrible Jacacean. It’s hard enough always being dignified in public. I couldn’t be dignified in private, too.” Vade looked at Selorin, curious. “What would you say if someone had on an ugly shirt and asked you if you liked it?”

“It depends on the audience. I would take Orinakin’s more diplomatic route for some people, and Xio Voe’s more direct route for others. For you, specifically?” Selorin smiled at him. “I’d probably ask you why you had it on in the first place, and unless your answer was as compelling as, ‘It was a dying child’s last wish for me to wear this shirt tonight,’ I’d probably tell you to take it off and stop embarrassing yourself.” Ha! “You wouldn’t say it that way to Bade! You’re so much nicer with him.” “I’m more flirtatious with him,” Selorin corrected. Yes, but, “And nicer!” Selorin smirked. “Possibly.” Vade rolled his eyes. “If we weren’t friends, I’d swear to Grengar that you don’t like me.” Selorin laughed. “If I didn’t like you, I’d let you wear the shirt. If I really didn’t like you, I’d tell you how great it looks and encourage you to wear it again.” “So I should be grateful that you’d tell me how ugly my shirt is?” Selorin smiled, lacing his fingers across his stomach. “Honesty can be a gift. I love you enough to tell you when you’re being an ass. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t push you to be a better person.” Okay, “Then you criticize me because we’re friends, not because you think I’m an ignorant regressive asshole too caught up in tradition to think for myself?” Which was, if not a direct quotation, a close paraphrase of what Selorin had called him during their last argument on women in government. “You’re smart and curious and thoughtful and honest, you’re kind and considerate and caring and generous, you’re fun and sexy and brave and selfless. That’s why we’re friends, that’s why I love you as much as I do and enjoy your company and let you hang around my office all day instead of kicking you out. But there are corners of your personality and areas of your brain you haven’t cleaned out recently, where old and unexamined ideas have collected, where you haven’t applied all of that smart, thoughtful curiosity. When you spout those notions and argue those points, you’re acting like an ignorant regressive asshole too caught up in tradition to think for yourself. You’re embarrassing yourself. I know that you’re better than that, I know that you’re more generous and thoughtful than that, and that’s why I push you to examine what you’re saying and reconsider those old ideas. If I didn’t think that you could learn and grow and change, I wouldn’t put so much energy into arguing with you.” “You don’t fight with Bade!”

“Bade has Orinakin, and Orinakin has wonderful, effective ways to broaden Bade’s perspective. Orinakin’s been opening Bade’s mind to new ways of viewing the world since they met. Besides, you’re more fun to argue with. You get so angry and stubborn, you refuse to admit that you’re wrong, and then you back yourself into more and more impossible corners, and I love the moment when you really stop and hear what you’re saying and realize how awful it sounds.” Great. “Do you have any idea how incredibly annoying it is to think that you’re right all of the time? That’s not a great personality trait.” “If I wanted to be right all of the time, I’d never go near Xio Voe. We have three kinds of arguments. The ones I win, the ones he wins, and the ones where we both walk away reconsidering everything. If I wanted to be right all of the time, I’d only ever talk with you and Extra.” “Right, so this is the part where you explain that you didn’t really mean to call me and Rini stupid.” “The word ‘stupid’ did not cross my lips, nor did its synonyms,” Selorin pointed out. “You and Extra are both smart and fairly well-educated. You’re also both inexperienced and prone to speaking before you think. Remin and Orinakin overthink everything. Xio Voe and Bade and Anosanim are incredibly thoughtful. Anikira and Talin consider their words carefully. You start talking before you’ve really finished thinking something through, and so does Extra. You haven’t borne as much responsibility, so you haven’t had to weigh your words and consider their consequences as thoroughly.” “I don’t blurt things out randomly! We were trained to think first and then speak all of our lives! Our parents, our tutors, I’ve been coached on this all of my life!” “Ninety-five percent of the things you say are great,” Selorin said. “And then you hit one of those unexamined pockets of ‘conventional wisdom’ which absolutely make me cringe.” “Because I’m not savvy and trendy and Anorian?” Vade demanded. “Because you think that women’s primary function in life is childbearing!” “It is!” Were they really going to have this argument again? “And do you see how much I love you?” Selorin asked. “You said that, and I didn’t throw you out of my office.” Vade rolled his eyes. “No intelligent person would throw me out of an office for saying something the entire history of life on the planet demonstrably proves.” Selorin snorted. “Try it with Anikira.”

“Unh! Ah! Ah!” Thrusting quickly as need and vivid sexual pleasure stormed his body, Tano groaned at the grip of Remin’s ass and the clutch of Remin’s hands. His shorts on the floor somewhere and his vest hanging open, he leaned over Remin’s desk, fucking Remin in fast, deep strokes. Splayed naked over the desk, golden hair flung everywhere, Remin panted up at him, moaning in a lusty, rapturous tone which spurred Tano on, making his hips rock faster, harder, eager to satisfy them both. “Oh, oh, ooohh, right there, like that, yes, nnn, Tano!” One hand working over his erection with rhythmic pulls, Remin bit into his lower lip, gasping. “Fuck, unngh, yes, come on, get me off, get me, oh! Oh! Tano!” With a cry, Remin came, shuddering against Tano and spurting thickly. The sound of Remin’s ecstasy, the sight of Remin’s hand pulling and milking his dick, the sudden spill of cum, sent Tano over the edge and he slammed in roughly as he came, groaning incoherently as a final rush of pleasure flooded him. Oh, gods above, for a moment he knew nothing but feverish, intoxicating bliss. Slumping forward, he moaned in pure satisfaction, and Remin brushed light, affectionate kisses over his cheeks, across his lips. “Mmm, that was fantastic. I love you so much.” Licking at his jaw, Remin nuzzled him, threading fingers through his hair. “That soup smells delicious.” Moaning with happiness, Tano slid down Remin’s body, sucking up smears of sticky cum from his abs. “It’s a new recipe. I adapted it from something Lo Ariside makes for family occasions. I brought enough for both of us. Tell me how this morning’s meditation went while we eat.” “Mmm.” Stroking Tano’s hair, Remin stretched and sighed; he sounded so blissfully content that Tano smiled, licking up his cum, loving him. “Here you are!” “Mihina!” From a bench in the locker room, Rini waved. It was a shame that she sounded so grouchy; he wondered what was wrong and how he could help. “How’ve you been? You know everybody, don’t you?” He gestured to the wrestlers changing clothes to go home. “Prince Rini.” Striding across the locker room like an angry animal - - a bear? a bull? - - she put her hands on her hips, glowering down at him. She didn’t even glance at the toned, muscular, sexy, half-naked women around her, which was a shame, because some of them sure were shooting interested looks at her. “You probably think that you have a great reason for being here, and I’m sure that

whatever you do pleases the gods, but if you weren’t royalty I might ask you why the fuck you aren’t at Rumonek’s anniversary party right now.” “Shit!” He’d forgotten all about that! Shooting to his feet, Rini stared at Mihina in dismay. “That’s now?!” “That was half a fucking hour ago! It took me this long to find you!” “You were supposed to remind me!” “I sent you a reminder yesterday, last night, and this morning!” Okay, “I got your note yesterday, but I didn’t get anything last night or this morning. Where did you send them?” “To your quarters!” “I haven’t been back there since yesterday afternoon! You can’t send stuff to my quarters, you have to send it directly to me!” “How am I supposed to know where you are?!” “I don’t know, just send the note. The palace pages always find me eventually.” Rumonek’s party! “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe that I’m late! I have to-” “Your clothes and your gift are in the carriage.” “Adanotu bless you,” Rini said, hugging her. “Thank you! I’m sorry!” Blowing a kiss to the wrestlers, he hurried for the locker room door. He couldn’t believe that he’d almost missed the party! He’d have to be extra charming once he got there. “Wait,” he said, turning suddenly. “Clothes? Which clothes?” Mihina shrugged. “I asked one of your attendants to grab whatever looked brightly colored that would show off a lot of skin.” Perfect! “You’re the best!” he called back, hurrying off again. Having a secretary was turning out great! As he glanced out of the window one evening, a twist of melancholy caught Orinakin’s attention. Drawn to it, he stepped out into the courtyard to see Anosanim seated on a bench, petting Norisa, sighing wistfully at the moons. Sitting down beside him, Orinakin put an arm around his shoulders, caressing his hair. It was late, and Anosanim looked as if he’d been getting ready for bed, his hair loose and free of its earlier pins and combs. He wore a pale apricot shift and no make-up, and he looked very young. Leaning against Orinakin’s shoulder, he smoothed Norisa’s fur. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I thought that you were still out.”

“We just got back.” A quick pulse of interest. “How was the show?” Orinakin chuckled. “Selorin and I found it every bit as dreadful as you warned us that it would be. Bade and Vade loved it.” “Well, the songs are quite exuberant.” Smiling, Orinakin appreciated Anosanim’s effort to validate Bade and Vade’s taste. “Histrionic songs and lots of sword fighting. They couldn’t get enough of it. What’s Talin up to tonight?” “Oh, he’s in the belam. The sculptors are still quarreling, it’s such a mess, he’s so frustrated with them. I really think that he wants to fire them all. You know how he is, he’ll endure anything for a while, but when he loses patience, he just can’t stand it anymore.” Orinakin nodded, still slowly running his fingers through Anosanim’s hair. “Is that what’s on your mind?” A quiet sigh. Anosanim nestled in more snugly against him. “No, I was thinking about Ritek and destiny and.” Stopping, Anosanim sighed again. “I was wondering how important it is to start things off on the right foot.” Orinakin had wondered how long Ritek might linger on Anosanim’s mind. They’d broken up without fighting, without anger, and there was nothing but time to dispel the hold Ritek had on his heart. “What did you decide?” “To erect a solid structure, you require a solid base. No matter how sound the building, if the base is faulty, it’s doomed. Of course I know that people aren’t buildings, but there might be some merit to it, don’t you think?” Rubbing his cheek against the softness of Anosanim’s hair, Orinakin considered the idea. “It depends on the circumstances and the people involved, I would imagine.” “I just keep thinking back over how Ritek and I began. We were so conflicted and so awkward and so awful, it was all a mess. We sorted things out, and we finally found the right path together, but maybe it was awkward for a reason. Maybe that was a sign. Maybe we shouldn’t have kept trying.” With an unhappy sound, Anosanim hugged Norisa to his chest. “But that’s ridiculous of me. That’s just my wish for love to be some magical, destined thing, some fairytale of love at first sight. Life doesn’t work that way, life is messy and confusing sometimes.” “I’d say that life is a blend of all of those things. Sometimes it’s a romantic fairytale, and sometimes it’s awkward and messy, and usually it’s a mixture of all of that and a lot of other things as well. I wouldn’t call your relationship with Ritek

a solid structure on a faulty base. Maybe, instead, you could think of it as carriage ride. You had some trouble starting off, had some trouble getting everyone into the carriage at once, had some trouble agreeing on a destination at first. But once you got started on your way, you had a brilliant outing. A great journey together, enjoying each other’s company and venturing into unexpected but beautiful places. And then, as any carriage does, you came upon a fork in the road. You had to go in one direction and he had to take another, and you knew in your heart that as much as you wanted to stay together, you couldn’t keep the carriage still in that one spot forever. So you want on your way, and he went on his. But you’ll always have that wonderful trip together to reflect on, and you’ll take the memories of everything that you shared together as you continue down your road.” “Oh, Orinakin!” As Anosanim hugged him, he felt a trace of wetness against his neck from Anosanim’s tears, and he tightened his embrace as his heart swelled with Anosanim’s emotion. “That’s exactly what it is, that’s so perfectly what it’s like. I wanted to stop the carriage right there and just keep everything exactly how it had been, it was impossible but I was so hurt and resentful that we had to change our route at all. And that’s not fair, it’s horribly unfair of me, you can’t stop a carriage forever, you can’t stop moving and living and maturing and growing and changing. I didn’t want to stop him, I just wanted to stop us. And I couldn’t, I just couldn’t.” “You did the right thing,” Orinakin promised, feeling Anosanim’s pain and relief and acceptance and regret twist and twine in his chest. “I’m so sorry that you had to do it, but you made the right choice.” “Ow! Sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Did we squish you?” Anosanim asked, sitting back as Norisa leapt down into the grass. Brushing at his tears, he settled against Orinakin’s side again, then absentmindedly dusted away tiger hair. “I suppose that this is where I should reassure myself that someday I’ll come upon another traveler and share my carriage with him.” “There could be a dozen more fellow travelers in your future. You never know, when you meet someone, how long you’ll journey together. Or, as you part, when your paths might cross again.” Smiling, Orinakin added, “Which, as Kudorin would tell us, is part of the wonder and beauty of life.” “Mmm.” His mood lighter now, a refreshing breeze across Orinakin’s heart, Anosanim patted Orinakin’s thigh. “I’m glad that, oh, how should I put it? That whether I travel for long journeys or short jaunts, wherever my carriage goes, yours is right there beside it. Or in the same caravan? Or always returning to the same carriage house? Or, oh, surely you know what I mean.”

Laughing, Orinakin kissed the top of his head. “I’m glad for that, too.” Especially now that he was married and settling into his new life, Tano felt the urge to go back home to visit Karaten. He wanted to see his old village and touch the old buildings and hear the old dialect and see all of those familiar, beloved faces. He wanted to eat his grandmother’s cooking again. But she’d never cook again, for him or anyone else, and all of those faces would be older now, different now. He’d changed since he’d left, and Karaten must have changed, too. Still, he wanted to know what those changes were. What had happened to everyone? What were their lives like, now? Who was married? Who had children? Who was still in Karaten and who else, like him, had left? Had Ulise ever finished her quilt? Had Monapo ever confessed his love for Isamuke? Had Poma ever built that fence? Remin brought up the idea of visiting Karaten several times, suggesting that they take a trip, mentioning that he wanted to see where Tano had grown up. When Tano had first returned to Orina Anoris, he hadn’t been ready to go back home. He’d needed to immerse himself in Anorian life again, but he’d shied away from Karaten itself, still feeling the pang of his loss. Now, surrounded by as much love and support as any one person could know, more in touch with the gods - literally - - than he’d ever been, he didn’t experience his grief in the same way. And the thought of his old village elicited feelings of fondness and curiosity. Before he could get to Karaten, however, the village came to him. Now that he was married to Remin and nationally well-known, he was easy to locate. In small groups, making the pilgrimage to the home of Anosukinom, people from his boyhood came to visit. He was happy to see all of them, and the rush of memories surprised him. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d loved and enjoyed and missed his old friends. He brought them into his kitchen and cooked for them, he introduced them to his family, he sat with them over food and drinks, laughing and talking, reminiscing, catching up. It could be hard to get them to talk about themselves. All they wanted to hear about was him, his new life, his adventures abroad, his marriage to Remin, what it was like to work for the king, what it was like to live with Anosukinom. He could see, objectively, why all of that might interest them, but he wanted to talk about them, their lives, what they’d been up to lately, how they’d changed, how they’d stayed the same. He hugged them and met their spouses and fed their children,

and Anosanim took them out, and Anikira and his parents had lunch with them, and Rini gave them presents. He always planned to introduce them to Anosukinom, and Anosukinom always showed up before he could do it, popping in and greeting them as if they weren’t just Tano’s old friends but his own as well. It was great to catch up with everyone again. He was happy for their gains and sad for their losses and proud of how far they’d come in their lives. He felt connected to his village again, a part of that community again. And he knew that when he and Remin did go to Karaten, they’d be welcomed as if they’d never left. The sun was bright overhead as their boat moved along the river. While the crew tended to the craft, Xio Voe crouched over a bucket with his sister and brothers, examining a tiny creature. As he discussed its anatomy with Xio Kei and Xio Dei, Xio Wae attempted to sketch it. “I wonder what it eats,” Xio Kei said. “To determine that would require further observation,” Xio Voe said. “In captivity or in its natural habitat. What would be the pros and cons of each?” “In captivity, you’d be able to study it more closely,” Xio Kei said promptly. “But its eating habits might be affected. It might eat something it ordinarily wouldn’t, such as a plant not native to its typical environment, which would skew your results. Or it might refuse to eat entirely, out of fear or confusion. Alternately, in its native habitat, it might be more difficult to track and observe, but it would be more likely to stick to its ordinary habits.” “Especially if it were larger, you could investigate the contents of its stomach,” Xio Wae pointed out. “Which might yield fruitful results,” Xio Kei said. “Or the stomach might be empty. And even a full stomach would only provide a sample of the animal’s diet, not a complete picture.” Studying the creature, he asked, “Shall we dissect it?” Looking up to gauge their location, Xio Voe rose. “We will disembark here to study the local omnivores. At the end of our excursion, we will perform three dissections. You may each select a creature for that purpose.” “No!” Appalled, Xio Dei gripped the edge of the bucket as if prepared to snatch it from Xio Kei’s grasp. “You don’t have to kill it!” “How else are we to study it and examine its internal organs?” Xio Kei asked reasonably.

“Read a book! Isevoun Soutale always says to benefit from other people’s research to save yourself the time and effort of starting at the beginning when people who came before you already did the spadework.” “Isevoun Haeme,” Xio Voe corrected. “Isevoun Soutale is the imperial gardener.” “Isevoun Haeme,” Xio Dei repeated. “Do we know that such a book exists?” Xio Kei asked. “Is it accurate? Could we procure a copy with ease? Would we not better learn from performing the dissection ourselves?” “If we can’t find it in a book, then we could ask Prince Ebutadesin. If it’s native to this country, he can recall details about it from centuries of observation. He’s a resource we don’t normally have access to, and we should take advantage.” Looking back down at the creature, he said quietly, “You shouldn’t just kill and rip open everything you’re interested in. They have their own lives. He was doing something before we interrupted him, and he probably wants to get back to it. They have food to find and offspring to care for like anyone else.” Sounding more confident now, he asked, “What if I don’t want to dissect anything?” “Then we will discuss why that is, as well as the role our ethics play in our scientific investigations.” Xio Voe made a mental note to provide the boy with a copy of Loiver Mereid’s papers on the subject. “Follow closely. As we progress along this tributary, I hope to find local insects as well as a beaver’s dam.” The four of them ambulated along the bank together, discussing the local plant life. When Xio Wae noticed an unfamiliar insect and darted after it, they joined in the chase. Breathless and triumphant, Xio Kei caught it for her. Xio Dei became distracted in watching frogs, and while Xio Wae admired her new find, Xio Voe noticed Xio Kei eyeing the water. The day was warm, and they had plenty of time. “When we stop for lunch,” Xio Voe said, “perhaps it would refresh us to swim. We will find a small natural bay to avoid undercurrents.” Xio Kei smiled. “I’d like to.” Deciding to permit Xio Kei a moment to frolic, Xio Voe put his arm around Xio Kei and joined Xio Wae in studying the insect. Remember when you were so sure that your relationship with your siblings was already sufficiently familiar? And you thought that only the most tender-hearted cialex would bother to lavish silly things like attention and affection on“Xio Kei,” Xio Voe said. “Yes?” Xio Kei looked up at him with interest and attention.

Xio Voe permitted himself a smile. “Please tell Anosukinom that it is not polite to gloat.” It was almost moon crossing and the hallways were dark. As Remin walked back to his quarters after another long day, he found himself frowning in irritation. It had been a long day full of conflict. Meetings with the clinic directors, demands from the high priests, arguments over budgets, petty squabbles. He couldn’t wait to see Tano. At the door, he paused, struck by the moment. Struck by how happy he was, how full of anticipation, how eager to open the door. A year ago at this time, when he’d felt tired and frustrated like this, he hadn’t had much of a solution for it. Meditation, maybe. Masturbation? But sex had been so tightly tied into his tension that even with the sensations of pleasure and release he’d been reminded of how much he had to deny himself, how rigidly he had to police himself. Here he stood with his robe unbuttoned; before, he wouldn’t have so casually and habitually begun to undress outside of his apartment. Even in this private family hallway, he’d been on the alert for belas, guarding himself, tense. That old tension he’d carried with him everywhere he went was like a stranger now. All of that time and energy spent controlling himself, watching himself, staying on guard, he had no use for it anymore. He could be himself now, fully himself, truly himself. Tano. He touched the door, eager to open it. Tano might be in there. Or in the main kitchens, or in one of the belams, but wherever he was, Remin wanted to see him, was happy to see him, would go and find him. Loved him. Tano had helped him, had healed him, had brought him to a place where he felt comfortable and confident in being himself. He felt at ease in himself now, felt as if he could handle anything life threw at him. He was more open with people, and he knew that it made him a better priest. He wasn’t on guard around men anymore, wasn’t always ready to protect himself and flee in the face of his own sexuality. He wanted to laugh at his former self. How foolish he’d been, how stupid, how silly. How tense and closed-off and uncomfortable and conflicted. He felt so much more free now, released from the cage of his own insecurity, his own inner war. He experienced life so much more richly now. He was a better priest, more devoted to his people and less worried about himself. He was a better brother, happier, more eager to spend time with his family now that he wasn’t so tense

about their sex lives and boyfriends. He loved food and he loved sex and he had both in abundance, thanks to Tano. Tano. His wonderful Naritano. So friendly and so giving. So sexy and so handsome. So healthy for him, so devoted to the gods, such an integral part of his life. Tano was an abundance of blessings. Remin had spent last night sitting in their private kitchen, eating pastries, the two of them talking about religion and faith while Tano baked. When Tano had finished setting everything out to cool, they’d rolled into bed for some lusty lovesex. It had been an amazing night, a wonderful night, an emotionally and physically and sexually fulfilling night. A miracle, compared to the life he’d led before Tano. He’d been thinking about their conversation all day. He planned to write out a letter about it, to be disseminated among the priests. Interesting, how his thoughts came together with such vibrancy lately. As if his physical and emotional comfort strengthened his spirit. He couldn’t wait to see Tano again. To hug Tano, hear about Tano’s evening, simply spend time in Tano’s company. Tano’s friendly enthusiasm and optimistic nature never failed to rejuvenate him, to refresh and inspire. And after such a long, frustrating day, Remin couldn’t wait to suck some dick. Tano would probably be amenable to that, and Remin smiled at the thought. Slipping off his robe, he pushed open the door to their apartment. Food. Baking. Chocolate. Sniffing hungrily, Remin moved forward, his steps more energetic, his pulse quickening with happiness. “Tano?” “There you are!” As he hurried toward the kitchen, Tano came out, and they met in the doorway. He was so glad to see Tano, so glad to love Tano, so glad to be Tano’s husband and have Tano in his life, that joy filled his heart and he found himself laughing. As they embraced, Tano kissed him, and he moaned, lips parting, robe falling to the floor. “How was your meeting?” Tano asked, kissing down the side of his neck, fingers combing through his hair to unbraid it. Being with Tano, even simply thinking of Tano, always brought warmth to Remin’s heart, a smile to his lips. He felt so much better, felt good, in Tano’s presence. When Tano was near, there was a new brightness to any room, an energy Remin found infectious. Remin’s apartment seemed so much cozier and livelier since it had become their apartment. “I love you so much,” Remin confessed, hugging him tightly. “It didn’t go well, I’ll be more inclined to discuss it later. What’ve you been doing? Can I suck your dick?” “I love you, too,” Tano said, nuzzling his ear and falling still, just holding him, breathing against his neck. He closed his eyes and soaked in the feel of Tano’s

arms around him, Tano’s body against him, so strong and familiar. “I’m making muffins, chocolate muffins, some with nuts and berries. Anosanim and Vade are helping to taste everything.” Of course they were; wherever Tano went, Remin’s brothers flocked around, talking about guys and devouring treats. Remin was glad to share his family with Tano, and it only made him happier to see them so openly include Tano as one of their own. “You make the best muffins.” “And you suck the best dick,” Tano said, laughing. Stepping back, Tano pulled him toward the bedroom with the happy, flirtatious smile he loved. “What about the muffins?” Remin asked, not hesitating for an instant to follow. “We’ll watch them!” Anosanim called. Grinning, Tano dropped back across the bed, already starting to wriggle out of his shorts. “The muffins will be fine. You can have as many as you want.” “I want the chocolate ones,” Remin said, crawling over him. “I know you do,” Tano said, laughing, and kissed him.

Part 297 The day after the Festival of Art, Talin and Anosanim went shopping. As they eyed merchandise, they discussed the festival. Anosanim had nothing but praise for each aspect of it, and Talin had to admit that it had gone smoothly. It was a relief to have the festival behind him for another year. He wouldn’t have to worry about planning for the next one for months to come. Now he was free to turn his mind to other tasks. He wasn’t entirely sure what those other tasks might be, however. The Royal House of Art as a whole had an exhausting number of projects underway, but he didn’t have any particular pet projects of his own. He was busy as it was, but he always felt better - - more focused, more energized - - when he was inspired, under the thrall of some new burning idea. He’d been sketching Anosanim lately, his old favorite; he’d been sketching Anosanim all of his life, and he always enjoyed it. But there was no fresh passion behind it. He wasn’t worried about it. Something would come to him. Something would catch his eye or strike his ear. And in the meantime, he could focus on the more general tasks at the Royal House of Art. He didn’t lack for work. “…and I honestly don’t know what she would think about it,” Anosanim said as they stepped out of another store. “Oh, look, how lovely!”

It was lovely, and Talin didn’t have to ask what Anosanim was talking about. He’d already seen it for himself. Waiting alongside the walk was a carriage with ponies. A light carriage, Ilaeian in style, red with gold trim. The little black ponies were impeccably groomed. The sight appealed to Talin on an aesthetic, visual level and he stepped forward, studying the play of sunlight over the ponies’ coats, the shape and structure of the carriage. “They’re so pretty, aren’t they? I wonder who it belongs to.” Anosanim sounded thoughtful and then, suddenly, distracted. “Oh, there’s Lo Herabun! He’ll have something for Kunitep’s new baby.” Talin made a sound of acknowledgement, watching the ponies impatiently shake their manes. “I’ll get something from both of us,” Anosanim said. Absentmindedly making a sound of agreement, Talin stepped closer to the carriage. For an uncharitable moment, he wondered how sound it was; Ilaeians always did prefer form over function. Still, there was a reason Ilaeians prided themselves on their art. It was a beautiful carriage, with elegant lines and a flowing roundness which made it look smaller and lighter than it probably was. Walking around it, he studied it from all sides. The gilding caught the sunlight well, making the carriage glow and sparkle. “He had some wonderful little gifts and toys, but nothing quite right for a newborn,” Anosanim reported, returning. Fanning himself, he smiled at the ponies. “Aren’t you lovely? We’ll walk down another block, I’m certain that we’ll find something there.” “Sure.” Talin took a last look, then gave Anosanim his attention. What an elegant little carriage it had been! With such pretty little ponies! Anosanim wondered what, precisely, had drawn Talin to it. He wished that he could see the world through Talin’s eyes. As good an artistic eye as Anosanim had, beauty struck Talin differently than it did other people. Anosanim only got a real hint of what Talin saw when he got to glimpse the world through Talin’s artwork. The carriage bore a family crest upon the door, but Anosanim hadn’t recognized it. Ilaeians were forever reinventing themselves lately, shortening their names and redesigning their crests and fighting to be the most fashionable. Anosanim thought that it was a shame to toss out distinguished, historic family symbols simply because something else was in style, but he supposed that they had their own sound reasons for it.

While they’d been out, Talin and Anosanim had traveled outside the city for lunch with a few cousins. On their way back, Anosanim debated whether to continue shopping for a gift for Kunitep’s infant or return to the palace. Talin pointed out that they could simply have something made, and then Anosanim wanted to discuss what that might be. They were talking over the merits of designing a cradle together when Anosanim said, “Oh! Stop here, stop, are they in trouble?” There was a carriage by the side of the road, leaning to one side. Not the same Ilaeian carriage as before, but so much like it that Talin didn’t think anyone else would have noticed the difference. As Anosanim got down, Talin followed. The Ilaeian driver looked dazed by the sight of them. While Anosanim took the time to ask the man’s name, if he were all right, what had happened, and a dozen other questions as if they were all about to become the best of friends, Talin pulled his hair back into a ponytail and got the toolkit from his own driver. “Oh, Talin, I’ll do it,” Anosanim protested, seeing what he was up to. “You’re not dressed for it.” As Talin said that, the carriage door opened and the driver hurried forward to help a woman alight. About thirty years old, with black hair and black eyes, she wore a tan dress with a very snug bodice and a short, ruffled skirt. She looked very wealthy and very fashionable. “Good afternoon.” Anosanim smiled kindly. “I’m terribly sorry about your mishap. I hope that you’re all right.” “Prince Anosanim, Prince Nisutalin. It is an honor to meet you, although I’m quite embarrassed to do it in this way.” She spoke Anorian with only a trace of an accent, almost like a native. “The driver has sent his boy on for help. It was so kind of you to stop, I must be blessed.” “I’m so glad that we came by.” Anosanim took her arm, guiding her away from the carriage. “Of course we’ll be happy to give it a look while we wait. I hope that this hasn’t grossly disrupted your day. It’s really a beautiful carriage.” “Thank you, it’s very kind of you to say. We brought it from Ilaeia, of course. It’s so nice to be able to bring along all of the comforts of home.” As Talin crouched down beside the carriage, she made a soft, genteel, horrified sound. “Prince Nisutalin! You mustn’t!” “He’ll be absolutely fine. He’s wonderfully knowledgeable, and he doesn’t mind a little dust on his shoes. Now, you’ll forgive me, I never caught your name.”

“I’m so sorry, Prince Anosanim. How remiss of me. My name is Ijaie. I’m Lord Soaei’s youngest daughter.” Lord Soaei. As he studied the wheel and axle, Talin tried to place the name. It was probably a shortened form of a longer name, and those five letters could be in just about any Ilaeian name. It was like nicknaming an Anorian “Na” in that it could refer to almost anyone. “What a lovely name! Your father’s a patron, then?” “Oh, yes.” Her laugh was a cultured, suggestive chuckle. “Yes, we come from a distinguished line of patrons. Our great-grandfather, of course, was Lord Uiseaoetepaoisuosoaei.” Talin grinned. That was a nifty little way to work a recognizable name into the conversation. And he did recognize it; she came from an illustrious family. His ancestors had worked closely with hers at various points in the past. “Then we’re in quite elite company, indeed! I’m thrilled to meet you!” Anosanim said. Stretching out flat, Talin tried to get a better view of the undercarriage. “Not half as thrilled as I am to meet the two of you! I hope that this interruption hasn’t spoiled your afternoon. You must have much more pressing engagements than this.” “This has been one of our rare quiet afternoons. Oh, who’s this?” “You do have sharp eyes! I hardly noticed him coming. That’s my brother. He’ll be able to take me home while this wreck is being fixed.” Was that the other carriage? Talin rolled over, peering across the road. It was the carriage. The light, pretty carriage with the sleek, black ponies. As the driver opened the door, someone stepped out. Talin saw the toes of black, heeled boots first. A long, thin, black cloak. His gaze rose, rose, along the length of the black cloak, until it reached a black scarf and a thick, wavy tumble of glossy black hair. So much hair that it obscured the face; Talin caught only a glimpse of fair skin. Sprawled on the ground, staring, Talin was transfixed. He couldn’t look away; he wanted to see everything, wanted to catch all of the details he possibly could. Unmoving, he studied the man intently, his eyes roaming and seeking as he absorbed details. The way the cloak’s hem drifted and swayed around the pretty, heeled boots. The snug black gloves. The way the hands in those gloves

momentarily tightened into fists. The black scarf covering any gap between that thick, black, wavy hair and the cloak, even obscuring part of his face. Whoever this was had wrapped himself securely against the world, as if warding off an icy breeze. But there wasn’t a hint of a chill in the air. In fact, it was a warm day, and Talin had borrowed Anosanim’s fan more than once as they’d shopped earlier. The man’s garments were delicately embroidered with shiny black thread that shone in the sunlight against the matte background. His cloak and scarf were thin enough to be stirred and caught by the gentle breeze, seeming to seethe and swirl around him, as if no matter how still he stood some bit of him were always moving. His gloves were made of cloth; even his boots were made of intricately woven cloth strips instead of leather. The ensemble was designed with consideration for the heat rather than to protect from cold. Then what was he protecting himself from? Or, more likely, what was he covering up? His hair looked so soft, so thick, Talin wanted to touch it. The way the sun gleamed on the tips of his pretty black boots captivated Talin’s gaze. “Prince Anosanim, Prince Nisutalin, this is my brother, Mirotam.” “Mirotam!” Anosanim sounded surprised. “An Anorian name?” “Our mother, Lady Soaei, is Anorian,” Ijaie explained. “I’m so glad to meet you, Mirotam. Are you here visiting family?” “It is my honor, Prince Anosanim.” Mirotam’s voice was calm, confident, and cultured. “We’re here on some family business.” He couldn’t see enough, and he was frustrated, agitated. Needing to get a closer look, Talin got to his feet, striding forward. “There’s nothing that can be done here without more tools.” “What a shame.” Anosanim shook his head in disappointment. “Well, the important thing is that, praise the gods, no one was injured.” “Mir will take me home,” Ijaie said. “I’m so sorry to have kept you both. It was so kind of you to stop.” “We’ll have to meet again, under happier circumstances,” Anosanim said. Mirotam’s scarf obscured the lower half of his face, his thick cloud of hair covering the rest. Even standing this close now, Talin saw just the tip of his nose. One smooth, pale cheek. A wide, gray eye surrounded by long, black lashes. Wanting to brush his hair aside, needing to see him more clearly, Talin barely repressed a frustrated groan. The urge to pull him closer, to tip his face to the sun, to uncover his features, was so strong that Talin was wild with the need for more of him.

He wanted to speak; he couldn’t speak. He didn’t trust his voice anymore. If he parted his lips, all that would arise from his tight, desperate throat would be demanding, obsessive incoherency. He needed to see more of Mirotam, he had to see more, and that was all he wanted, all he would ask for, all he was capable of saying anymore. But the one thing he knew about Mirotam, the only thing, was that Mirotam didn’t want him to see more. Talin’s newfound burning desire in life was entirely, ruthlessly at odds with Mirotam’s, and if Talin spoke, if Talin gave voice to his need, it would be a cruel demand. Suddenly, like a shock to Talin’s system, like an impossible dare, Mirotam looked back at him. The abrupt gift of eye contact was too much all at once, and Talin’s heart lurched painfully in gratitude and joy. Breathless, Talin stared without blinking, trying fruitlessly to understand the mystery of Mirotam’s beauty, the beauty of Mirotam’s mystery, from that one, deep, slate gray eye. Long, black lashes descended; Mirotam dropped his gaze, then looked at Ijaie. She’d been thanking Anosanim, saying good-bye, and now she stepped to Mirotam’s side, ready to go. Mirotam handed her up into his carriage, and Talin felt an unsettling rush of desire at the sight of his slim hand in that snug, black glove. And then Talin realized that Mirotam was about to go. About to leave. No, no, he couldn’t! Desperation clawed up Talin’s throat; he hadn’t seen enough of Mirotam yet, he still hadn’t looked his fill. When would he see Mirotam again, when would he get another glimpse? His chest burned with the need to pull Mirotam back. His throat ached with the need to beg for another look. With a swirl of cloak hinting at the tight, black pants beneath, Mirotam followed Ijaei into the carriage. No! No! In his heart, Talin followed after Mirotam, begging, pleading, hands reaching out, scrabbling at that black cloak. Who are you? he wanted to demand. Let me look at you, please, Ilanosa help me, I need to see you. Mercilessly, cruelly, the driver closed the door. A furious, grieving howl welled up in Talin so strongly that he couldn’t breathe. Feeling powerless, lost, Talin was numb, aware only of his need for Mirotam Soaei and the miserable throbbing of his desperate heart. As the carriage began to move, Anosanim tugged at his arm. Automatically obeying the pull of Anosanim’s hand, he drifted back a step or two, staring with all of his might as the carriage continued along the lane. Tormented by impotent need and bewildered loss, he watched those sleek, black ponies carry Mirotam away.

“Look at you, you’re an absolute mess,” Anosanim scolded, brushing ineffectually at his back. “Rolling around in the dirt like that! You’re worse than Desin!” As if it mattered. Talin turned toward his own carriage. He needed to get home so that he could get his hands on a sketchbook and charcoal. Dark, black charcoal. As days passed, Anosanim knew that Mirotam Soaei stayed on Talin’s mind. He didn’t know what to say about it; he wasn’t sure that he should say anything at all. But he was keenly aware of how distracted Talin was, how often Talin gazed into space as if caught in another moment entirely. He saw sketches of the same pair of boots, the same prancing ponies, the same broken axle, all over Talin’s apartment and his own. Sketches of a gloved hand, reaching out. A gloved hand, balled into a fist. Thick, tumbling waves of hair around an unfinished face. One painstakingly detailed eye of wide, bottomless depth. Looking into that eye made Anosanim feel as if he were seeing into a vast, unknown universe. He wondered what Talin saw there. Talin couldn’t stop thinking about Mirotam Soaei. As he ate, as he worked, as he slept, his thoughts were full of the man. What he’d seen. What he hadn’t seen. What he’d felt. His dreams were nothing but Mirotam, the way Mirotam had stared at him, the swirl of black cloak as Mirotam had turned to leave him. What was wrong with him? Why was he so haunted by someone he’d barely met? How could he be so obsessed with someone after one, brief meeting? What was it about Mirotam that his brain had latched onto? It was wholly visual; it wasn’t as if he’d been dazzled by the man’s personality. For all he knew, Mirotam was a terrible human being. He hadn’t felt this caught up in another person since. Hitari. And that terrified him. What scared him even more was that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t push it away, he couldn’t ignore it, he couldn’t rid himself of this overwhelming desire for another beautiful, heartbreaking moment with Mirotam. When fighting it away didn’t work, he tried to overindulge, sketching Mirotam as constantly as Mirotam was on his mind, dwelling on their brief moment together, that poignant heartbeat of eye contact. When he had sex, his thoughts skittered painfully over Mirotam’s

snug, supple, black gloves, and he came with a feverish kind of ecstasy, delirious with bliss and desire. Days passed. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing Mirotam staring back at him. He didn’t mention Mirotam to anyone. He felt caught by his overwhelming need for Mirotam and his even stronger fear. He knew what had happened the last time he’d wanted someone even half this much; the whole world knew. He didn’t trust himself, his desires, his judgment. He didn’t speak of Mirotam, but he wanted to. The only other person who knew about Mirotam was impossibly silent on the subject. It wasn’t like Anosanim not to say something. Anosanim always had questions, comments, ideas. Anosanim always expressed support and interest in everything Talin did. He was so encouraging and invested when it came to Talin’s earrings, Talin’s leadership decisions, Talin’s choice of beverage, that it was remarkable for him not to make a sound about Talin’s new sketches. Talin couldn’t even get a meaningful glance out of him. Leaving sketches out in plain view in Anosanim’s apartment didn’t make a difference; as far as Talin could tell, he hadn’t even noticed them. Anosanim? Not notice one of Talin’s sketches? It wasn’t possible. Finally, after Talin planted a sketch of Mirotam’s carriage on Anosanim’s desk one morning and he didn’t say a word about it all day, the silence was intolerable. That evening, Talin dropped a sketchbook onto his lap and stood over him, glaring. “Did you not notice the dramatically gorgeous man you were talking to the other day? Or am I the only one who’s into hot guys anymore?” With a gasp, as if coming up for air after a long submersion, Anosanim clutched Talin’s sketchbook to his chest, looking up with an expression of relief. “I didn’t want to push.” “Push? Push what? All I want is to talk about him. Who is this guy? Why is he dressed like that? What does he really look like?” Irritated, Talin snatched the sketchbook from Anosanim’s grasp, tossing it aside and dropping down beside Anosanim on the couch. “That’s meaningless, it might as well have blank pages. His cloak, his hair, I didn’t see him, I only saw everything around him. Trying to draw him is like trying to draw the river by describing the bank.” “He’s so artfully dramatic, isn’t he?” Anosanim sounded dazzled, and Talin’s heart beat quickly in recognition, in empathy. It was reassuring to feel

understood, to feel as if someone else had shared even halfway in his experience. He should have known; he should have spoken with Anosanim sooner. “I’ve wanted to learn more about him, and I keep thinking of people I could ask, people I could contact, but I didn’t want to get involved, I didn’t want to…” Anosanim stopped speaking, shaking his head with a worried, doubtful look. “What are you talking about?” It frustrated Talin that Anosanim, who was so deeply involved in everything else in his life, was being so shy about this, something that really mattered. “What are you so worried about?” Anosanim stared at him as if shocked by his ignorance. “What am I so worried about?” And it was there between them. Hitari. Flinching, Talin turned away, looking down at the rug beneath their feet. He swallowed. He didn’t know what to think, aside from the same thoughts he’d been having since he’d met Mirotam. “I don’t know if it’s the same.” “No, of course not. Neither do I. I don’t think that it’s the same at all, really. How could it be? The problem wasn’t you, Talin, it was Hitari, and-” “The problem was that I got so involved in art and beauty and what my dick wanted, I overlooked everything else.” “Hitari betrayed you.” Anosanim said it firmly, with a blend of compassion and protective, defensive anger. “You extended love and generosity and forgiveness to him, and he took advantage of you. Unless Mirotam is a treacherous, lying criminal, history won’t repeat itself.” Talin could only breathe in short, uneven inhalations around the tightness in his chest. “What if he’s so beautiful that I don’t care?” “No. No, I don’t believe that for an instant, and neither do you. You do care, it’s because you care that you’re so distraught, it’s because you care that you’re upset about this. If you didn’t care, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.” Maybe. Maybe. “I don’t know why I need so much more of him already. I don’t know what it is about him that I can’t stop responding to. What if that’s what it is, what if it’s not just his beauty but,” he didn’t want to label it, “something else?” “His capacity for betrayal?” Trust Anosanim to know exactly what was in Talin’s heart.

“Nisutalin, that’s absolutely ridiculous. I flatly reject any sort of notion that you’re attracted to men because they’re terrible, lying assholes. You were drawn to Hitari because of his better qualities. You were alienated because of his awful ones. You like men who are very beautiful and very arrogant, and sometimes that combination comes with a certain amount of.” “Chaos?” Talin suggested dryly, rubbing his eyes. “Well.” Anosanim cleared his throat delicately. “Perhaps.” Talin sighed, rolling his eyes. “But Hitari took it too far when he lied to you and cheated on you, the first time around. You took such care, you went to such lengths, to make sure that it wouldn’t happen again, to show him what you needed from a relationship, to explain how you needed to be treated. You were clear with him about what sort of man you wanted to be with. That’s the kind of guy you want, Talin, that’s who you’re attracted to. Hitari couldn’t bring himself to be that man. He betrayed you. You never betrayed yourself.” Talin needed that to be true. He thought that it was true. But he’d fucked up so badly, he was afraid to do it again. “If Mirotam’s so beautiful and confident” - Anosanim had been right about “arrogant,” but Talin didn’t have to acknowledge that - - “why don’t you want him for yourself?” “I looked at Mirotam. His beauty struck me from that very first moment. I can only imagine what he looked like to you. I can only imagine what you see when you look at him. And I saw how you reacted to him. ” Talin felt Anosanim’s hand stroke his hair. “I didn’t want to push because.” His sigh was forlorn and frustrated. “I pushed with Hitari. I encouraged you. It’s irrational and hypocritical of me, but some tiny part of me has always felt responsible for everything else that happened, because of that. It’s hard not to think of how differently things might have gone if I hadn’t pushed. I’ve hoped that, if nothing else, I learned a lesson about letting you live your own life, about not getting involved and trying to direct your path for you. If you want to pursue Mirotam or not, that should be up to you. I’ve been trying very hard not to help. And it’s been so very difficult! Oh, Talin, you have no idea how unbearable it’s been! I’ve wanted to ask you about him and ask around to find out more about him and find out how you really feel and invite him to the palace and find some excuse to bump into him again and, oh! I’m so glad that we’re finally talking! You must tell me everything, absolutely everything, I have to hear all of it! You looked so passionately intense when we met him, I could hardly bear it, my heart was beating out of my chest for you.”

Hearing Anosanim talk about it made Talin smile. It had felt momentous to him, but hearing Anosanim’s typical enthusiastic, dramatic interpretation of events made it seem more normal, suddenly. “How long do you think he’ll be in the country?” More importantly, “Do you think that he’s already gone?” Voicing that terrible, excruciatingly painful question aloud made Talin’s gut clench as he braced himself for the worst. To have Mirotam vanish from the country without even knowing it, to have Mirotam disappear beyond his reach while he sat in ignorance of it, would shatter him. Having Mirotam wander Orina Anoris while completely unaware of Talin’s obsession was one thing, but if Mirotam left the country? He’d be beyond Talin’s reach, somewhere Talin couldn’t follow. Talin would be left with no hope but the desperate notion of calling Mirotam back. Mirotam could return to Ilaeia at any moment, any time. This trip was only a visit, for family business. How long might family business take? “I’ll find out for you.” Anosanim was, in this as in all things, immediately and entirely understanding of Talin’s thoughts and emotions. “No.” No. “I’m not ready. I’m not sure.” It was why he hadn’t yet made a move, himself. After Hitari, he wasn’t ready to feel this strongly about someone. He wasn’t ready for the risk and heartache and confusion. He wasn’t ready to reveal his vulnerability to another man. Anosanim tucked in closer against his side, beginning to brush his hair. “What would make you feel more ready?” He didn’t know. Rolling out dough in his apartment’s kitchen, Tano hummed a song of praise. While Remin and Selorin sipped wine and debated philosophy, Anosanim was chopping nuts slowly, gazing down at his work as if lost in another world altogether. “What do you think?” Tano asked, studying the dough. “Circles? Star shapes?” “Hmm.” Anosanim had stopped chopping altogether and was just staring down at the nuts, looking lost, as if he couldn’t figure out why the nuts were there or what they were for or why he’d ever cared. Tano had been concerned about Anosanim for a little while now, ever since Remin had mentioned how distracted Anosanim had seemed lately. Every time Tano asked, he said that he was fine, but Tano had to ask again, anyway. “Are you all right?” As if he hadn’t heard a thing, Anosanim didn’t respond.

Worried, Tano watched him more closely. He didn’t look particularly miserable, just preoccupied. As if whatever was on his mind kept pulling him away. It had to be something he found to be really important, but what could it be? Why wouldn’t he turn to someone for help? It wasn’t like Anosanim not to confide in someone. Remin and Selorin fell silent, looking at Anosanim with the same concern Tano was sure was written all over his own face. As if he’d suddenly noticed the silence, their attention, Anosanim looked up. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, glancing from one of them to the next, blushing. “How terribly rude of me, I apologize, I was - - what did you ask? About the shapes?” “Are you all right?” Tano asked again. “If you want to talk about anything,” Remin began. “No, I’m fine,” Anosanim said with a bright, convincing smile. “I’m fine, really.” “Hanibulatin.” Selorin sounded hurt, almost. Wincing, Anosanim began to scoop the nuts into a bowl. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m not entirely fine, I suppose. I’m struggling with a little bit of a quandary. A moral dilemma, I think it might be. I promised myself that I wouldn’t interfere with something, and then I sort of promised to, agreed not to, interfere with it, in conversation with someone. So I’m doubly committed to not interfering, absolutely not. But I really think that I should! It’s all so backwards, but I can’t help but worry what will happen if I don’t interfere! What if someone’s most marvelous chance for happiness is lost because I held back? Time is passing and he could be leaving the country and - - oh, I’m sure that it’ll all work out, I’m sure that it’ll be okay, but what if this is my chance to help? Some people shouldn’t be left to their own devices!” Tano had always supposed, when he was growing up, that his nation’s leaders didn’t worry about petty things like boys and sex and personal stuff, that they were more concerned with weighty matters of state. It struck him as funny, how wrong he’d been. The Seven Siblings seemed to run the country effortlessly; the minor interpersonal things weighed more heavily on their minds. “Does the person making decisions - - Talin, I mean, assuming that we’re talking about Talin, not that we necessarily are, you don’t have to clear that up - - have the same information that you have? Does he know that his happiness may be on the line and someone may be leaving the country and all of the rest?” “He does, but he’s not doing anything about it!” “Well, that’s sort of his decision to make, isn’t it?” Tano asked. “If you knew something he didn’t, it would be important for you to tell him about it, so he can

make an informed decision. But if he knows what you know, and he’s not taking action, then maybe you shouldn’t take action, either.” “I like your advice,” Selorin said. Tano smiled at that, meeting Remin’s eyes, sharing a private grin. “I learned from the best.” In the weeks after his wedding, Tano had met with Xio Voe to discuss his work. Tano wanted to train other chefs, to share his knowledge and spread his love of cooking. Xio Voe wanted him to hire assistants. Tano wanted to start with Anorians. Xio Voe wanted him to stock his kitchen with Jacaceans so that true Jacacean chefs would be staffed and ready for the meals Tano was unavailable to prepare. They’d agreed that they could both get what they wanted. And they’d agreed that Xio Voe would get what he wanted first. So Xio Voe had instructed his people in Jacacea to find whichever of the Empire’s best chefs were willing to work in Orina Anoris and send them over. Now they were about to arrive. Tano was excited about the whole process. He couldn’t wait to learn more about Jacacean cuisine firsthand from skilled Jacacean chefs. He was eager to learn more about how they’d studied and how they ran their kitchens. He looked forward to bringing new people and new ideas into his kitchen. He’d given a lot of thought to the kind of person he wanted to hire. He wanted people who were ready to learn and ready to take direction. He wanted them to take on information and communicate with him. He wanted them to share his love of food and care about their work, the dishes they sent out, the people they were feeding. He also wanted them to be respectful of the royal family. They were Jacacean, so he could only assume that they’d have the right attitudes about Xio Voe, but he did wonder if they’d have some unpleasant ideas about the Seven Siblings or Anorians in general. He hoped that if they had trouble working under an Anorian chef, they’d have the sense not to seek out the job in the first place. Kudorin’s apartment was lively. While Remin and Desin argued over Remin’s latest bout with physical labor, Orinakin and Xio Voe were engaging in a political debate and Rini was demonstrating a new dance. Ignoring them all, Talin sat in

the corner with the best lighting and sketched Mirotam’s descent from the carriage. Something was blocking his light. With a careless push, Talin got Selorin out of his way. That was better. “You don’t care to dance?” Selorin asked. “He’d just embarrass himself,” Rini said cheerfully. “Blessed by Ilanosa,” Talin said clearly without looking up. He was a phenomenal dancer when he chose to be. Which was very, very rarely. “Blessed by Adanotu,” Rini said. “Sorry, what’s your point?” “Blessed by Matanori, Ebanosa, Edanola, and Esanoto,” Desin said. “I got four, do I win?” “You do win,” Rini said. “But in return, no one likes you.” “Don’t be mean, we all absolutely adore Desin,” Anosanim chided. “And it’s not a contest. Talin, you should join us. It’s fun! Do you think that we’ll do it at the next ball?” “I hope not,” Bade muttered, rehearsing the steps in Talin’s peripheral vision. “He’s too busy drawing things to play with us,” Rini said. Talin snorted. He’d ask how Rini would feel if someone spoke so dismissively of his work, but it would be a waste, since Rini had no work. “Who is that, anyway?” Desin asked. “Who?” Anosanim asked blithely. Talin bit back a grin. “I believe Desin’s asking who Talin’s sketching,” Selorin said. “Oh,” Anosanim said airily, “it’s just some Ilaeian we ran into. Dear sweet Bade, stop and start again from the beginning, you’re only going to confuse yourself. Let’s all do it together!” Anosanim kept up a steady stream of words until everyone got immersed in the dance again and stopped asking about Mirotam. Kudorin came over and perched on his armrest and stroked his hair for a while, but without breaking his creative state and without blocking his light at all. A dozen chefs had arrived from the Jacacean Empire, and Tano had to figure out which one of them to keep and which eleven to send back. It was a daunting task. He had as long as he liked to interview and test them, but he didn’t want to hold them in Orina Anoris forever just to send them back, so he got down to work.

He began by taking them out for a restaurant meal. It gave him a chance to speak with them and get to know them; it also gave him a chance to observe how they ate and how they interacted with restaurant staff. How they ate, how they treated food, was interesting to him. Were they picky? Critical? Demanding? Did they delight in their meal? Did they eat slowly, relishing each bite? Eat quickly, eager to consume? How much did they order? How much did they finish? There were no real right or wrong ways to do it, and he couldn’t make a lot of assumptions from one single meal - - especially since they knew that he was watching, and might alter their behavior accordingly - - but he wanted to see if they seemed to enjoy food or not. How they treated the staff was more important. He was looking for polite, professional behavior. They should know enough about how professional kitchens were run to treat the staff with courtesy and respect. If they were overly demanding, that was a warning sign. If they were condescending, that would be another warning sign. He didn’t want them in his kitchen, working with his staff, if they were accustomed to being rude, harsh, or patronizing. Whoever he hired would have to work closely not only with him, Lo Ariside, and Koso, but with all sorts of other people. Especially during special occasions and festivals. There were too many opportunities to work with too many kinds of people; if he hired someone who didn’t get along well with others, there would be way too much friction. Of the twelve chefs, only one actually seemed to be nervous. Most were confident. A few were downright arrogant, bordering on obnoxious. When he explained that the meal was not a formal interview, and he only meant to spend a little time getting to know them before inviting them into his kitchen, most of them relaxed, becoming pleasant, and he got some friendly conversation out of them. Some of them tried to show off and impress him, or each other. They asked what it was like to work for King Xio Voe, and he made note of who seemed most interested in his answers. Assuming them all to be equally qualified for the job, he wanted to hire someone who wanted to work for Xio Voe, someone with a personal investment. The royal kitchens weren’t an impersonal restaurant serving a bunch of strangers. Anorian palace servants worked for the royal family out of love and reverence. Okay, maybe they didn’t all toil cheerfully while they scrubbed the floors - - they got frustrated and tired and annoyed like anyone else. But it was an honor to work in the palace, an honor to devote themselves to Anosukinom’s home and the Seven Siblings’ well-being. Tano was accustomed to working with people who loved not only to cook, but loved who they were cooking for.

Xio Voe wasn’t Anosukinom; he wasn’t a god, and Tano didn’t expect Jacaceans to have the same worshipfully reverent approach to their work that he did. Still, it was an honor to work for Xio Voe anyway, and someone who genuinely cared about Xio Voe’s well-being would fit in among the other servants better. Food was love. Tano fed people out of love. He saw it as not only a duty but also a privilege to take care of Xio Voe. He hoped to hire someone who understood that. Anosanim had to do something to take his mind off of Mirotam. He’d try to take his mind off of Talin, but that was almost literally impossible. Even if he somehow managed not to be around Talin physically - - which, considering that they shared each other’s bed indiscriminately, took most meals together, constantly visited each other at work, shared a family, shared a home, and, oh, yes, he also made most of Talin’s wardrobe decisions - - he’d still see Talin every time he looked into a mirror. And Anosanim was rather fond of mirrors, actually. So, he couldn’t stop thinking about Talin. But he could, he hoped, take his mind off of Mirotam. He tried to fill up his hours, having sex more often, going shopping more often, consulting Mihina about Rini’s schedule to see what sorts of events he might attend. He went out more often, and he took Talin with him; if he had to suffer through a terrible opera to get over Mirotam, then Talin did, too. One opera in particular was so bad that Anosanim was tempted to walk out midway through. It would’ve been terribly rude, but he might have done it, if he were anyone else. However, since he was royalty, and a child of the gods to boot, it really would’ve been inexcusable for him to abandon the performance. And he had Talin with him! For the royal artist and the royal artist’s superbly tasteful twin to leave the theater halfway through the show, oh, the scandal! He didn’t dare budge. It really was a dreadful performance, though. Anosanim took to sneaking peeks at the audience, trying to determine if anyone else were as fantastically bored as he was. He noticed some familiar faces and idly contemplated disgracing himself by waving and calling out, “Hi! Do you find the dramatic and tragic bits as hilarious as I do?” And then he noticed someone. There was a sort of hierarchy to theater seating. The seats with the very best view of the stage were always reserved for the royal family, just in case the Seven Siblings happened to stop by. If the Seven Siblings weren’t there, but close cousins were - - Dimi’s children, for example - - then the cousins sat there.

Sometimes there was a bit of a scuffle over who was considered close enough family to use those seats, so Xio Voe had drawn up a very specific list of qualifications. The second-best seats were reserved for “friends of the theater.” That was a polite term for people with money and influence who helped the theater financially or used their connections to the theater’s advantage. The Parikes, for example, or the Edorinos. The third-best seats were reserved for people the theater wasn’t quite sure about, people who’d promised a great deal but had yet to deliver. And in one of those seats, in a fashionable Ilaeian gown, was Ijaie Soaei. Talin glanced over at him, either in reaction to some sign - - had he tensed? gasped? - - or in uncanny awareness of his mood. “What?” Talin whispered. Anosanim met his eyes, glanced in Ijaie’s direction, and stared meaningfully at Talin. Talin looked over there. He was halfway out of his seat before Anosanim could grab him. Yanking hastily at Talin’s sleeve, clutching at Talin’s arm, Anosanim dragged him back down into his seat. Gods above! What sort of spectacle was he trying to make of himself?! They were in public! “After it ends,” Anosanim insisted. “Wait.” Talin tried to rise up again, but Anosanim dug his fingers into Talin’s arm. After a moment, Talin subsided, but he spent the rest of the opera staring at Ijaie as if the stage were a meaningless void. If Ijaie remained in Orikodisata, perhaps Mirotam was still in town as well? And hadn’t yet returned to Ilaeia? Anosanim sent up a quick prayer, only one of many. If Mirotam were still around, there might be a chance. Was Mirotam in the country? Was he single? Was he a person of sound ethics? Was he attracted to Talin? Was he a good boyfriend? Was he honest? Was he going to shatter Talin’s halting, budding trust and destroy what remained of Talin’s hope? Anosanim wished that he could speak with Mirotam first, alone. To get a good feel for the guy’s personality before Talin got involved. He hadn’t been able to protect Talin from betrayal and heartache last time. He’d do whatever it took to protect Talin from ever going through anything like that again. As the opera came to its unintentionally comedic end, Talin darted out of his seat. Anosanim applauded politely, trying to reassure everyone that everything was just fine without overdoing it. He didn’t want to appear too enthusiastic, after

all; he didn’t want people to think that he’d actually enjoyed the opera. He’d be simply disgraced if people thought him that devoid of taste. As soon as he felt it appropriate, he hurried after Talin. The opera had been such melodramatic drivel that people were in a hurry to leave, and Talin had to battle a crowd to get near to Mirotam’s sister. Fortunately, fewer people tried to get his attention than usual; anyone with sense would be too ashamed to be recognized attending such tripe. The composer’s daughter tried to get him to agree to meet with the composer backstage, but he quickly said, “I’m sorry, that won’t be possible, if you’ll speak with Prince Anosanim he’d be glad for an introduction,” and kept moving. When he finally reached Ijaie, she was still near her seat, deep in conversation with, oh, fantastic, Anikira’s cousins. They knew him well and would forgive any odd behavior; he could interrupt them without worrying about being rude. He strode forward, and as soon as the cousins noticed him they smiled, happy to see him. “Hi,” he said to them shortly; Ijaie turned as they bowed. “Lady Ijaie. Is your brother still in town?” Did she have more than one brother? “Mirotam?” “Mirotam?” She repeated the word as if she couldn’t imagine why he knew it. “Yes, he’ll be in town for some months to come.” “Where is he now? Why isn’t he here?” The cousins were eyeing him with open interest. Ijaie looked taken aback. “He’s at home, Prince Nisutalin. He.” She paused for dramatic effect, glancing over at the cousins before lifting her wide, black eyes to Talin’s face. “He doesn’t go out very often.” What? The question, “Why not?” almost fell from Talin’s lips but he snapped it back, grinding it between his teeth. He remembered too clearly how Mirotam dressed like someone with something to hide. If he were to learn anything about Mirotam, he wanted it to be from Mirotam directly, not from anyone else. He wanted to be alone, to think about this. To contemplate Mirotam. To bask in the security of knowing that Mirotam was in town and would be for months. To consider the idea that Mirotam didn’t go out much, and what that might mean, and why Ijaie had said it in such a dramatic fashion. “Thanks,” he told her. Stepping forward, he kissed one cousin’s cheek. “Good to see you,” he muttered, and they chuckled, hugging him and murmuring

blessings. Kudorin’s wife’s family was unfathomably more easygoing than Kudorin’s husband’s family. With a brief, “May the gods guide your spirit,” he left. He didn’t see Anosanim on his way out, which was unusual, because Anosanim was always very easy to spot. Getting into the carriage alone, he waited impatiently, drumming his fingers on one thigh and wondering what Mirotam was doing. Where Mirotam lived. What this family business was. What Mirotam would have thought of the opera. “Nisutalin A Lini!” Glaring his way into the carriage, Anosanim sat beside Talin with an indignant huff. “If you ever do that to me again, I will be forced to wreak havoc! I know how very earnestly you love me, but if you continue to treat me so shabbily, I shall wonder if you detest me!” What the - - oh. “Shit.” Wincing, Talin couldn’t blame him for being in a foul temper. “I was in a rush, and I didn’t want to take the time to explain that I had somewhere more important to be, so I-” “So you sent her after me!” Anosanim’s expression alternated between horrified and outraged but always managed to be accusing. “I had to make polite conversation and find pleasant, positive things to say about that awful, dreadful, laughably bad opera! He kept asking for my opinion on the score and the story and the casting and the scenery and the costumes and everything it was humanly possible to comment on, and all I could think of was, ‘No, I absolutely hated that, too.’” “I’m sorry.” Talin hadn’t meant to put Anosanim in such an awkward situation. “What did you tell him?” Sighing, Anosanim adjusted the fall of his skirt. “Mostly, I simply told him that I can’t wait to see his next work. Which is true. I’m terribly eager to see what in the world he comes up with next, and if it turns out to be, somehow, as embarrassing as this mess was tonight.” Anosanim gave him a look. “You take shameful advantage of the fact that I can never stay angry with you for longer than a moment. Did you speak with Ijaie? What did she say?” “Mirotam’s in town.” For all of the thought Talin had given to this guy over the past few weeks, he rarely had occasion to say his name. It was a good name, and he liked the sound of it, liked hearing it in his own voice. “He’ll be here for months.” “Then you have time. To get to know him.” It was a gift, an opportunity. “She said, with some significance, that he doesn’t go out much.” “Oh?”

Anosanim was on the case now; Talin felt some relief. He could share his burden with Anosanim, let Anosanim mull over the same questions which were on his own mind. “He’s not very sociable?” Anosanim guessed. “Or he has a lot of demands on his time? Whatever he’s here in town to do might take up most of his time or energy.” “He could have someone keeping him at home. A spouse. A child.” “Well, it’s possible. I would imagine that it’s my first guess, though. That he’s not very sociable. Not that he’s shy, but he’s not very friendly, didn’t you notice? He’s not very people-oriented.” Talin grunted. That was his preferred interpretation, too, that Mirotam just wasn’t into public, social events. “I’m glad to know that he’s still in town,” Anosanim said quietly. “It takes a weight from my heart. I was so worried that he’d disappear across the world. I’m even glad that we sat through that awful performance tonight, if it means that we could learn that Mirotam’s still here.” Touched by Anosanim’s care for him, Talin leaned against Anosanim companionably, bumping his shoulder. “Thanks.” “Oh, is that Anikira’s aunt’s carriage? What a shame! In all of the confusion, we never got to say hello! They must think us terribly rude.” Talin pretended to be lost in thought. Seated in a plush armchair, Mirotam read by candlelight. The book was one in a series on the history of the international art trade. He’d read it before, but he always found some new nugget of information, some new insight, from its pages. When Ijaie came home, sending the servants for refreshment and unpinning her hair, he feigned interest. She was full of gossip, and he made appropriate noises at the right points while she told him who she’d seen, how everyone had been dressed, and so on. She’d been doing her best, lately, to learn the ins and outs of the city’s society, and she chatted on with relish about having spoken with members of the queen’s family. “Of course it’s nothing like the associations we have back home,” she said airily, settling comfortably onto the couch. “But it’s so nice to converse with someone of quality. And you’ll never guess who else I ran into? Well, ‘ran into’ isn’t it, so much as he sought me out.” “Who?” Mir asked, trying to care enough to play along.

“Prince Nisutalin! He was abrupt, if you don’t mind an honest opinion. He asked about you.” Mir froze for an instant. His body couldn’t conceive of how to react, and his brain couldn’t absorb the information. Prince Nisutalin had asked about him? Ilanosa’s most beloved son had asked about him? For a moment, Mir felt nothing but heady, soaring wonder. And then he realized why, precisely, Prince Nisutalin must have asked about him. There was only one possible reason Prince Nisutalin could have to ask about him. The same reason everyone else had. The pity. The regret. The selfindulgent disgust. Wanting to go upstairs to his private chambers, to be alone, Mir closed his book. “Oh?” “It’s such a shame, isn’t it?” That was what everyone said, what everyone called it. A shame. A tragedy. Poor Lord Mirotam, they’d whispered to each other. You know that his mother’s inconsolable. Someone brought Ijaie her refreshments and left. She nibbled for a moment, then resumed her monologue. “I don’t think that he knows. About.” She inhaled deeply, giving him a sorrowful look of deep pity. “The accident.” Prince Nisutalin didn’t know? Then why would he have asked about Mir? What other purpose could he have had? “Such a shame,” she mumbled to herself, crossing her legs. “It’s almost romantic, isn’t it? What might have been? The spark which might have ignited between you? Everything that he is, everything that you were. And I can only imagine the sort of extra polish it might’ve given the gallery’s reputation, to have you dating the royal artist.” The idea of Prince Nisutalin wanting to have anything to do with him dragged a hoarse, disbelieving chuckle from Mir’s throat. Prince Nisutalin, attracted to him? What might have been. What never could be. “We’ll have to muddle along without that bit of polish, won’t we?” he asked, getting up. “Hmm?” She tossed him a lazy, sad half-smile. “Yes, indeed.” “Good night.” He headed for the stairs. “Good night. Odanoru guard your dreams.” “And yours,” he said automatically, continuing on his way. Prince Nisutalin had asked about him. How odd. Maybe, seeing Ijaie, the prince had remembered her broken-down carriage, her brother coming to take her home? It must have been

a simple remark, then. Something like, “And how’s your brother?” Ludicrous, to think that there had been more to it. The royal artist had more important things to concern himself with than near-strangers. Although it had been a unique experience, seeing Prince Anosadim Inanodat Nisutalin A Lini on the ground halfway under a carriage. There was no one among the Ilaeian nobility who would do such a thing, never mind among royalty. Ilaeian royalty wouldn’t even have stopped to make sure no one was hurt. Mir hadn’t been sure what to take away from the sight, other than the surety that things were different here in Orina Anoris. Very different.

Part 298 Orinakin was at his desk quibbling with himself over the wording of a treaty when Rini practically skipped into his office and flopped onto his couch with careless grace. “You busy?” “I’ll be happy to make time for you.” Setting aside his quill, Orinakin sat back and studied Rini with a smile. “What’s on your mind?” “Who’s Talin been drawing?” Ah. Yes, they’d all been wondering that lately. The fact that Anosanim didn’t want to talk about it only made everyone more curious. “I wish that I knew.” He wondered why Rini had come to him. He certainly didn’t have any more information than anyone else. “But it’s an Ilaeian. Someone he must have met or seen recently.” Smiling, Orinakin saw how Rini might have decided he knew something. But, no. “I don’t have travel logs of every visiting foreigner. If he’s not here to see me, which I don’t believe he is, I have no reason to know he’s in the country at all.” “It has to be someone of nobility, though. A patron. Or an artist. Random commoners don’t dress that well. Talin’s not showing those sketches off, but I’ve seen enough to know that’s not just anybody. He dresses weirdly for an Ilaeian, but really well, like he’s somebody.” “If he’s a patron, he’ll have a ring. If he’s an artist, he may be here to see someone from the Royal House of Art, and Talin could have bumped into him there.” “A ring,” Rini said, squirming around to get more comfortable and squashing Orinakin’s pillows. “All patrons wear rings at all times?”

“Yes. Signet rings, like Xio Voe and Bade wear. I haven’t seen Talin’s sketches well myself, but I think the person’s wearing gloves, so if he wears a signet ring, you won’t be able to see it anyway.” Making a thoughtful noise, Rini laced his fingers across his chest. “I’m sure that Talin will get around to talking about his new inspiration when he’s ready. He tends not to respond well to being rushed.” Rini snorted in amusement at that, then bounced to his feet. “Okay, I’ll go so you can get back to your important peace-keeping missions. Thanks for your help! Love you!” “I love you, too,” Orinakin said, watching him leave. Rini started off his day by talking to Anosanim. Asking about Anosanim’s schedule for the afternoon got him a good idea of Talin’s schedule, too, so he knew when Talin would be out of the office and stuck in other corners of the Royal House of Art. Then he went to the Royal House of Art and hung around visiting friends. He waited until Talin was somewhere else in the building entirely before zeroing in on Talin’s office. He was a hallway away when Kikarin stopped by ask if he needed anything. He said no, and she went off to run an errand. With the two of them occupied, it was a simple thing for Rini to slip into Talin’s office. Who was going to stop him, a guard? He was a child of the gods. A sketchbook was right on top of Talin’s desk in plain sight. Either Talin was getting sloppy, or whatever Talin was sketching wasn’t some big secret after all. Flipping through the book, Rini was sort of freaked out. Talin had bizarre, otherworldly levels of talent. On one page, he’d sketched just a single eye, and that eye seemed to be staring right at Rini. He waited and was kind of surprised when it didn’t blink. Eye, hair, gloves, boots, cloak. A carriage with ponies. This was it! Right there, on the carriage, was an emblem. If this guy was a patron, that was his carriage and his emblem, probably. If the guy was an artist, that was his patron’s emblem. Either way, his identity was in there somewhere. Staring at the emblem, Rini tried to memorize it. Then he looked around for something he could draw it on. Then he asked Ilanosa for forgiveness and carefully, carefully tore the page out of the sketchbook. Tucking the page under his shirt, he put the book back where he’d found it and hastily made his escape.

Now he just had to find someone who’d recognize an Ilaeian patron’s seal on sight. Someone besides Orinakin, who definitely would realize that he’d taken the sketch without permission and therefore wouldn’t cooperate. Rini had a lot of friends, but who had an in-depth knowledge of the Ilaeian nobility? Someone who knew art? Someone who knew politics? Someone who knew Ilaeia? Tano had lived in Ilaeia, but he didn’t seem to know a whole lot about individual patrons. Really, if his resident art expert was Talin and his resident international expert was Orinakin, who was Rini supposed to turn to now? Kasu knew a lot of what Orinakin knew, but he’d want to know why Rini was asking, and that might get awkward. Who did that leave, Kudorin? Or, wait. In-depth knowledge? Expert? Those ideas brought someone else to mind. Someone who prided himself on knowing everything about everything. Determining the right strategy to get the information he wanted could get tricky, but it was early, still. Rini had plenty of time to plan his approach. At least, assuming that Talin didn’t notice that a page was missing. Tano invited the Jacacean chefs into his kitchen a few at a time to cook whatever they liked. As they cooked, he talked with them. He watched how they cooked, whether they were organized, methodical, decisive, neat. He watched how they dealt with being in a stranger’s kitchen, if they became flustered by the unfamiliarity, if they made an effort to be respectful while in someone else’s space using someone else’s tools. He watched how they treated their ingredients, if they were wasteful. He watched for how often they tasted and sampled. He talked with them about what they were making, and why. He paid attention to how often they asked for help and how they solved problems on their own. Since he cooked for Xio Voe, he had access to a wide variety of Jacacean ingredients, and he’d put a lot of effort into figuring out how to get his hands on imported goods. Things he couldn’t get, he’d worked hard to find decent substitutes for. He didn’t explain all of that at first, though, letting them muddle along with whatever they found on hand. He wanted to see how well they worked with the ingredients set before them if they were cut off from the typical fresh, local foods they were used to. Some of them assessed what was available and adapted their usual recipes to fit; some of them tried to go with recipes they knew that matched what they could find in the pantry. He worked with them one at a time during his regular workday, having them prep and assist while he cooked for Remin and the king. It gave him a chance to give them direction himself, to see how well they cooperated, whether they took

initiative, how easily they fell into the kitchen’s routine. It gave him a chance to see them interact with Lo Ariside and Koso. Some of them just did what he asked and stuck to their tasks. Some of them asked a lot of questions about his methods and his plans. Some of them talked about their own knowledge and customs. He tried to gauge how they reacted to his Jacacean cooking, and he caught various responses. Respect, grudging respect, sneering disrespect. He tried to gauge how they reacted to having to prepare Anorian dishes for Remin. Some of them knew more about Anorian cuisine than others; some of them seemed interested in learning more from him. Some of them weren’t interested at all and put in noticeably less effort. Tano didn’t treat people badly or think poorly of them if they displayed less skill than he did at something. He assumed that they were trying their best, he assumed that they wanted to improve, and he offered to help if he could. If they accepted that help, great! If they didn’t, he figured that they had their own reasons for it, and continued on his way. He wasn’t used to treating people with condescension or pity; he respected his fellow human beings, and if they were terrible at things he was good at, well, he was probably terrible at things they were good at, too. He didn’t expect the Jacacean chefs to kiss his feet just because he had a job to offer. But he did expect them to extend the same respect and courtesy to him that he extended to them. They had the advantages of having grown up within Jacacean culture and having been taught by some of the Empire’s best chefs. He had the advantage of already being Xio Voe’s chef and knowing Xio Voe’s tastes. If they wanted to sneer at him and find fault with his methods and scoff at his ingredients, that was up to them; he was more interested in the people who took the opportunity to ask about his experiences in cooking for Xio Voe and what Xio Voe preferred to eat. If they were rude to him while they wanted him to hire them, he wondered how they’d act once they were secure in the job. Oh, well. He’d probably never find out. Mir had been visiting the temples since his arrival in the country; some of the best Anorian art was on display there. When he found artwork that struck his eye and suited his purposes, he tried to track down the artist. Fortunately, since a wide variety of forms of art were common means of tribute, and since what was kept in the temples changed frequently, there was a lot to peruse, and the artists were almost all still living. That gave him a large pool to draw from, even excluding anyone who worked for the Royal House of Art. Many of the nation’s

best artists, and most faithful, worked for the Royal House of Art, but their work could not be sold by third parties, so they’d be useless for his gallery. He’d never been in Orina Anoris before this trip. He’d grown up hearing about its festivals and praying to its gods, and his mother had called him and his sisters to the balcony once a year during the Akanoti Festival to watch the sunrise. He remembered being young and having other children mock him for his foreign name and foreign faith. He’d tried to prove that believing in Anosukinom made him superior by reciting the prayers for water and fire that he’d just learned. No water had come from the faucet; no fire had sprung to life. They’d laughed and he’d been humiliated, devastated; he’d wondered if they were right, if he really were weird and insane. His mother had explained to him that, as she’d told him before, the prayers only worked in Orina Anoris, and while he was in Ilaeia he was in the land of his father’s gods. He’d asked her why she’d given him a clumsy Anorian name instead of a fluid Ilaeian name like his sisters had, and she’d told him, “You have a beautiful, strong name, a name to be proud of. It means ‘most marvelous one,’ and if people laugh at it, they must be too ignorant to know Anorian. The foolishness of the uneducated is beneath your notice.” He’d been used to considering a lot of different kinds of people beneath his notice. Commoners, for one. Certain members of the nobility who were too poor or too unfashionable or too ill-mannered. Anyone without a great deal of wealth or beauty or artistic talent. He’d associated primarily with the children of other patrons - - the right sort of patrons - - and the children of very specific artists and the favored members of the royal family. People who wore only the latest fashions and talked only about the right topics and knew only the best people. He wasn’t a part of that crowd anymore. Life was very different here in Orina Anoris. Certain sorts of clothing seemed to be more in style than others, but people didn’t seem to care nearly as much about how they looked. They were clean and well-groomed, but a good many of them wandered around in public without the slightest trace of make-up. Mir no longer wore make-up himself, but that choice had been a radical act, a sign that he was dropping out of society altogether and no longer making the effort even to attempt to fit in. For as many people as he saw wearing well-tailored, stylish, modern outfits, he also saw roughly the same number in old-fashioned clothes, outdated styles, and non-coordinating colors. As if they didn’t care how they presented themselves or what others might think of them. They looked as if they’d only spent five minutes

fixing their hair. They looked as if they’d been wearing the same shoes since last year. And they talked to anybody. That was one of the weirdest things about Orina Anoris. Anyone could approach anyone at any time. Without a proper introduction, without regard for age or class or any other sort of status, they just walked up and started talking. There was a certain patron in Ilaeia who said that his roof was introduction enough; anyone at his parties could speak with anyone else, and they were meant to consider themselves already introduced by virtue of being his guest. Anorians acted as if the blue sky above were introduction enough. It was astonishing, how bold they were. Since Anorian sartorial choices ranged so widely, Mir didn’t stand out as obviously as he might have otherwise. People seemed to think that he was some sort of priest in training, devoted to Ilanosa; any time he stepped outside, the words he heard most often were, “Anoha Ilanosa.” Some people said it almost automatically, making the sign to the gods as they passed him; some people said it in a friendly way, as if striking up conversation. The fact that he was so welldressed, in such finely tailored clothes, should have set him apart, should have indicated his wealth, but that really didn’t seem to matter. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Sometimes people did stare at him as if wondering why he covered himself up so closely. Anorians regularly bared more skin than Ilaeians did; it didn’t seem to occur to them to be self-conscious about their bodies. It wasn’t only the most beautiful people who exposed their flesh. Anyone did it, as if fat and wrinkles and blemishes and scars weren’t meant to be covered up at all but should be shared as freely with the world as sleek, toned bodies. In that context, for him to remain so firmly shielded from view was odd. He didn’t care what passersby assumed about him, but when the artists he meant to work with assumed his devotion to Ilanosa, he’d used to explain, “In Ilaeia, black is the color of death.” But then the artists would assume that someone close to him had died, and he didn’t want to explain that he was the one who’d died, that he was mourning for himself. So he’d stopped correcting and stopped explaining and just let them think whatever they wanted. Why bother to explain the past? It didn’t matter who he’d once been or what he’d lost. He’d never live that life again, or anything like it. When he’d first arrived in Orina Anoris, and he’d settled into his new home, and he’d been alone in his new bathroom, he’d touched the faucet very lightly, and wondered. And he’d felt very uncertain. And he’d said the prayer, Inom anina Edanola na edo. And a pleasant little rush of water had flowed out over his fingers. And he’d cried.

He’d been in the country for weeks now, and it was still odd to him, still new, still moving, that the gods affected a miracle every time he asked for fire or water. All he had to do was ask. He didn’t even have to need the water for anything. He didn’t abuse the gift, didn’t just stand there asking for water fifteen times an hour for fun, but on occasion he did say the prayer more often than was strictly necessary, and Edanola provided him with cool, clean water every time. It was reassuring proof that the gods heard him, that the gods knew him, that the gods were with him. That the gods loved and cared for him. He’d been reared to believe in them, but they’d never been quite so real to him before. He wondered if that was part of why Anorians were so bold. They’d grown up so secure in their gods’ love that they were confident. The gods didn’t discriminate and bestow cleaner water or hotter fires on different kinds of people. Citizens with more money didn’t have more access to the gods. When Mir stood before the faucet and Edanola blessed him, that miraculous flow of water washed away a little of his self-doubt, a little of his pain. “Hey.” Before he’d lived in Orina Anoris, Xio Voe had not been accustomed to people addressing him so informally. Anyone in the Empire who hailed him so casually would only do so by mistake, and would immediately, sorely, regret that mistake. No one in the Empire would try to sit on his tables, either. Bemused, he watched the royal gift settle comfortably on his laboratory table between his microscope and his new charts. “You require my attention?” he guessed. “I’ll be quick.” Twisting nimbly, Rini peered into his microscope. “Ew, wow. What is that?” “Tissue from the diseased flesh of a human corpse.” Further detail would be a waste of breath; Rini was already recoiling in horror. “The gods protect us. Oranomi above, how do you - - I don’t even want to talk about it!” Hopping down, presumably to create physical distance between himself and the tissue sample, Rini shuddered. Cialexes. Xio Voe remained patient. “What is your purpose here?” “What - - oh!” Rini handed him a paper. “Do you recognize that emblem?” Nisutalin’s skill was extraordinary. “Ilanosa be praised.” The emblem was familiar, yes. “That is the seal of Lord Uiseaoetepaoisuosoaei, currently referred to as Lord Soaei.”

“I knew it! I knew that you’d know. Lord Soaei?” Rini’s pronunciation was careful. “So you know the family?” “Not well. I have not seen them much in recent years. As I recall, there was some tragedy, some disgrace. But it is a family of wealth and prestige. They have been the patrons of some of Ilaeia’s greatest artists. Upon the occasion of my wedding, Lord and Lady Soaei sent a gift of the original score of Easeiaotie Uoeoaitueiaoleiaue’s A World Asunder.” The symphonic masterpiece was a musical interpretation on how the rest of the world fared as its two major powers grew increasingly hostile. The music itself was so gorgeously well-composed that it had been incredibly well-received in its day and had long been considered one of the most beautiful and important compositions in the world. Rini’s expression was bright with interest. “So if the family’s here in Orina Anoris, they’d be welcome here in the palace, right?” “All people are welcome in Anosukinom’s home.” Rini rolled his eyes. “Yes, right, I know that. But I meant, like, for dinner.” “Yes. They would be appropriate dinner guests.” Rini bounced on his toes. “Great! I don’t know where they are, but I think that they’re around, in town, somewhere. If I can find them, you’ll invite them?” “If they wish to be invited to dinner, it’s possible that they’ve already sent word to my secretary or met with Bade.” “Great! So you’ll invite them?” “Yes. Does that conclude your errand here?” “Sorry, I’ll go. I didn’t mean to keep you from your,” Rini glanced at the microscope, his nose wrinkling, “work.” Turning to go, he paused, then turned back. “Hey, did you just say ‘Ilanosa be praised’ in regular conversation?” He grinned broadly. “That’s awfully Anorian of you.” “Regarding Nisutalin’s particular gift, calling upon any other deity would be inappropriate. While the blessings of Cexius are great, he has less to do with Nisutalin’s art than Ilanosa does, or so I would imagine.” “Iese maic Cexius,” Rini said cheerfully on his way out of the room. The Seven Siblings maintained a spirit of generosity in their respect for other people’s gods, and Xio Voe found it inspiring. They had proof, tangible and undeniable proof, of the existence and love of their own gods, yet they didn’t use that proof as a weapon against any other faith. “Iese maic Cexius,” Xio Voe agreed. “And anoha Anosukinom.”

A light breeze ruffled the charts on Xio Voe’s table. I love you, too, shiefa. Mir didn’t like servants bustling around him anymore; he preferred to be left alone. The servants knew that, so when he came home that afternoon, no one greeted him at the door. He took off his own cloak and hung it up, but left on his scarf and gloves. There was an envelope on the salver by the door. Eyeing it, he toyed with one end of his scarf. It was an ivory envelope with a hint of a rainbow arcing across one corner. A rainbow? How very Anorian. Wondering who it was from, Mir picked it up. The seal on the back was black. And it bore Ilanosa’s mark. The king. It was from the king. Staring at it, Mir remembered what it had been like, before. Invitations. Parties. Balls and dinners. Giddy anticipation. Confidence. Intoxication. Laughing and dancing. Always searching for the best apparel, the finest tailors, wanting to look just right for the next outing. But he hadn’t been a part of that world since… Dropping the envelope, he turned away, unseeing, not wanting to think of it or deal with it or feel any of it. He walked across the house without purpose, wanting to get away, but he couldn’t escape himself. He couldn’t escape his own body, his own fate. A letter from the king. Twisting a lock of hair around one finger, he wondered what the letter said. He was used to seeing invitations from the palace, in Ilaeia. He’d grown up at court. But this was different. This was new. This wasn’t from King Ouia’s palace, where his family was accustomed to spending time. This was from Anosukinom’s palace. From King Xio Voe. His mother had reared them with faith in Anosukinom. He’d worshipped the Anorian gods all of his life. He hadn’t gone to the palace with Ijaie when they’d arrived in the country, but the pull of word from Anosukinom’s palace was irresistible. And he was exceedingly curious about King Xio Voe. The words “Heir Xio Voe” carried a terrible amount of power, and the words “King Xio Voe” brought a sort

of disbelieving thrill. If King Xio Voe had sent a letter to Mir’s home, he had to know what it said. Stalking back to the foyer, he admired the seal for a moment, then broke it. Desin stared down at the grass in consternation. The whole meadow was red. What the-? “Kudorin,” he said. “Kudorin!” The grass was green again. “Thanks.” He got back to work. Mir abandoned the letter on the salver, dropping it there and walking away. Having actual Jacacean chefs in his kitchen was a terrific opportunity, and Tano made the most of it. He asked them about recipes and techniques, about meals and eating habits, about ingredients and traditions. They’d spent their lives steeped in Jacacean culture, cooking for their fellow Jacaceans, and he wanted to understand that experience. As he picked up new information, he tested his recipes on Remin first, refining each dish until it was ready to be presented to Xio Voe. He loved pulling from the knowledge and experience he already had, adding in the new tips and tricks he learned from the Jacaceans, and experimenting with the results. Sometimes his ideas worked perfectly the first time; sometimes he had to test his expertise to get the desired result. But he always benefited from his mistakes along the way and at least learned what not to do next time. “Try this.” He’d been toying with a particular fish recipe for days, and he thought that he might have hit just the right combination of techniques and ingredients. Seated on the couch in Remin’s office, he fed Remin a forkful of fish. “Mmm.” Licking his lips, Remin chewed. He looked pleased. “Mmm.” He swallowed, smiling at Tano, taking the fork and reaching for more. “That’s even better than last time.” Better, maybe, but not perfect. “You like it, but you don’t love it.” Remin chewed. “That’s a very fine line.” Tano wasn’t satisfied yet. He saw pleasure on Remin’s face, but not delight. Not bliss. He still had work to do.

At the sound of his sister walking along the hallway, Mir grew tense. He’d heard her come home over an hour ago. She must have seen the invitation. He should’ve destroyed it before she could find it. He should have hidden it, ripped it up, set it on fire. But that wasn’t right; some response had to be sent. One didn’t simply ignore missives from the palace of Anosukinom, from the office of King Xio Voe. Oh! Too late, he realized what he should’ve done. He should’ve sent a reply immediately, on Ijaie’s behalf. Shit! He could’ve made an excuse about himself but sent her acceptance. She’d want to go; she should go. It hurt him deeply that this was all starting up again, that she’d be dashing off to royal dinners and balls again while he sat at home, that she’d send servants bustling all over the house while she prepared herself to go while he locked himself in his rooms, furious and despairing and alone. It was bad enough that she was going out to the opera, but now that she’d begun receiving invitations to the palace, she’d only be more in demand. It was painful to watch her lead the life he’d once had, the life which was now forever out of his reach. What was left for him anymore? Isolation and loneliness? The company of his pitying family, at least until his sisters all married and went away to begin families of their own? He’d come to - - been sent to - - Orina Anoris to get away from all of the reminders of the past, the reminders of the future he’d been ripped away from. But the invitation from King Xio Voe was a reminder that Orina Anoris was as rich with social possibilities as Ilaeia was. Social possibilities he couldn’t enjoy. “Mir.” Walking into his office, Ijaie smiled, bracing her hands against the side of his desk. “Isn’t it fantastic? It’s about time! I was beginning to think that Prince Bade had forgotten about me entirely!” With a happy little laugh, she stepped over to drop onto his loveseat. “We’ll dine with some elite company now! I don’t care what people say about his table manners, I’d rather dine with Anosukinom than anyone else. Now, we’ll have to make sure that we’re dressed well for the occasion.” She clasped her hands with a happy sigh. “There isn’t time to have much made, but I think that my red gown will be appropriate, don’t you? Mother finds the neckline too immodest, but everyone knows that Anorians don’t care about that kind of thing. What-” “We.” He could barely get the word out around the misery clenching his heart. “You said we.” “Of course we!” Looking taken aback, she laughed again. “Mir, honestly! You have to come, there’s no other way around it. I’ve already sent our acceptance. This is far too important an invitation to refuse. If we have any hope of making a

success here, it won’t hurt to have the support and friendship of the right people in the right places. And we’re not going to meet them by staying home and locking our doors.” Pity softened her expression; he looked away, unable to bear it. “Mirotam.” Sympathy was thick in her quiet voice. “It’s just too important. I won’t expect you to attend every function, but this is our first invitation to dinner at the palace. I’ll help you prepare something suitable to wear, so that you won’t feel embarrassed. And, and just think of it this way,” she said, her voice brightening slightly. “This will be your first time meeting any of these people. They don’t even know what you looked like, before.” In conversation with Desin, Talin followed Selorin into the dining room. Releasing Anosanim’s hand, he found his seat as their guests flowed around the table. Looking up at Kudorin’s arrival, heMirotam. His heart jerking in his chest, Talin stared along the table. Lord Mirotam. In his home. At his table. Rini kicked him and he fumbled with his chair, dropping into his seat as if boneless, staring. He couldn’t look away. It was Mirotam. As his heart kicked and fluttered, he tried to see everything, etching the sight of Mirotam into his brain. Long, thick black hair in lustrous, full waves spilled into his face. Gorgeously touchable hair that Talin wanted to comb his fingers through hid Mirotam from Talin, obstructing his view, frustrating him. Mirotam’s clothing clearly had been designed as one outfit by a master tailor, each piece complimenting the rest. A thin black jacket buttoned tightly across his chest, splitting open at the waist to flare out around his legs. His jacket was trimmed with strips of lace overlay creating interesting areas of texture against the smooth, almost shiny fabric. Its buttons or snaps were sewn inward, concealed so as not to interrupt the clean, straight lines of the piece. A horizontal strip of lace mimicked a belt, adorned with a delicately crafted black iron buckle, cinching his waist as the fabric fell down beneath it, shorter in front and rippling around to the longest part in the back which almost brushed the floor. Along the edges was a strip of embroidery matching the lace pattern exactly. Before Mirotam sat down, Talin had seen that he wore black silk pants tucked into a pair of boots made of cloth underneath a matching lace overlay with the exact same lace of his jacket. Thin, black, fingerless cloth gloves wrapped snugly around his hands. They were made of a thin fabric featuring the same lace overlaying the entire glove, stretching halfway up his forearm and covering the ends of his jacket sleeves.

His light, gauzy scarf with matching embroidery around the edges covered his neck and chin, stopping just beneath his rosy, plump lips, leaving him room to eat. Talin hadn’t been able to see his mouth last time, and the sight of it was entrancing. Talin’s body was hot with the urgent desire to see more, to get closer. He had to get a better look. Mirotam was here, in his home! He had to look, to speak, to find out who this man was and what made him so beautiful. Anosukinom. Mir would never forget this night. The date would always be engraved across his heart as the first time he’d seen Anosukinom. He’d heard a lot about Anosukinom throughout his life. His mother had tried to describe Anosukinom to him, although Anosukinom had been in a different body then. He’d heard about Anosukinom in reverent tones, in curious questions, in uncomfortable laughter. He’d heard opinion and speculation and theological rumination. But none of that had told him how seeing Anosukinom for the first time would make him feel. In the first instant, before the sight had really hit him, he’d felt a jolt of recognition, of welcome, of relief, of pleasure, of satisfaction. A sense of there you are, as if he and Anosukinom had always been meant to be together and had somehow been separated but had now found each other again and could resume life as had been intended. And then he’d felt a sweeping sense of amazement, of wonder and awe and astonishment. It really was Anosukinom. A living god, the living god, his living god. He’d been told all of his life that one of the gods he worshipped - - all of the gods he worshipped, actually - - inhabited a physical body, was integrated into a living person, but it was one thing to know it as a fact. It was something else entirely to experience it for himself, to see Anosukinom walk across a room in the flesh. In real, living, tangible flesh. It was as inspiring as it was humbling, and Mir had never felt so proud and so small, so significant and insignificant at once. And so loved. So wholly, expansively, undeniably loved. Anosukinom wasn’t only a god, he was a gift from the gods, a blessing in the flesh to all who believed. Mir wanted to go to him, to bow at his feet, to thank him, to worship him. As an Anorian, he responded to Anosukinom’s divinity. As an Ilaeian, he responded to Anosukinom’s beauty. This was the epitome of beauty. This was the most beautiful sight human eyes could comprehend. Even so, staring directly at Anosukinom for too long was almost unbearable, almost painful; it was easier

on his eyes to glance away, glance back, take in the sight in small doses. While he rested his eyes, his soul hungered for more, for another look. Mir had known love before. He loved his family, his gods, art. But he’d never looked at another flesh-and-blood human and felt this swelling of emotion in his chest. He’d never felt this sense of humility and awe and potential. This was love of a different kind, a love he’d never felt in himself. He wondered if Anorians who’d grown up in the country, with Anosukinom so close, felt this way every day. Mirotam was seated directly across from Bade. Between courses, acting entirely on impulse, on mindless instinct, Talin found himself behind Bade’s chair, gripping Bade’s shoulder, whispering, “Switch seats with me.” “Sure,” Bade said. He paused to speak to his dinner companions; Talin stopped listening, too preoccupied in staring at Mirotam. As Bade moved away, Talin dropped into his chair, staring. So much closer now. So much more beautiful. Behind that scarf and that thick tumble of wavy hair, Talin saw one striking eye. A slice of a pale, straight nose. Those full, red lips. They looked as if they’d taste delicious. As if he were waiting for a kiss. What would those lips say? “You.” Talin didn’t know what to say, himself. He was frustrated by social conventions. He was at Anosukinom’s table under Xio Voe’s watchful eye, surrounded by guests and foreigners. He had to act a certain way, had to be polite, couldn’t just grab Mirotam and make demands. “Lord Mirotam.” That one, beautiful, deep, gray eye looked at him. “Prince Nisutalin.” What did he want to know? Where could he begin? “Your mother is Anorian?” “Yes. She was born Ireta Onalun.” Talin recognized the name. “She worked for the Royal House of Art, once?” “Yes. She met Lord Soaei on a trip to Eiapelai.” His ancestors’ memories surfaced. Ireta had been young but very smart, very ambitious. She’d been devoted to art. When she’d sent word of her resignation, word that she was staying in Ilaeia, the royal artist had sent a wedding gift. “I remember a book. The Book of the Gods.” Mirotam’s gray eye widened in surprise. “Yes. It’s very dear to her.”

It wasn’t easy for Anorians to leave the country, and those who did often had plans to return. To make permanent residence elsewhere was exceedingly rare. Regardless of whatever had tied Ireta to Ilaeia, she’d sent her children back home. “What is your business in Orikodisata?” Mirotam’s fingers were bare, and Talin found the sight fascinating. His skin was pale and smooth. His slender fingers looked as if they’d never known hard work. His nails had been buffed to a glossy shine. Talin wanted to kiss his fingertips and lick his nails and feel his caress. Those slender fingers wrapped around the handle of a fork as if Mirotam had no idea he should’ve been touching Talin, instead. “My father would like to become the patron to some Anorian artists. He would like to support their work and introduce them to Ilaeia. We’ll be opening an art gallery in Eiapelai called Beauty of Faith to feature Anorian pieces with a religious theme.” Art, artists, an art gallery. Talin knew art, Talin was art, Talin could help him. This was an excuse to get involved, a reason to act interested. “Which artists are you working with now?” A twitch of one black eyebrow. “I don’t know that I can tell even you that before my father’s patronage becomes official.” That didn’t mean that Talin couldn’t make a few suggestions. “Here in the city, you’ll want to speak with Lo Emorel, he’s very talented and his paintings are almost always religious in nature. Lo Tulamik does a lot of more abstract work trying to depict what she sees as the essence of the gods. There’s a young priest outside Nekusurin who’s done some amazing religious pottery. Lo Unasen, I think.” Mirotam looked puzzled and alert, so Talin explained, “As I’m sure you know, there are two equally important ways to establish a patron’s good reputation. You have to have enough artists with big, recognizable names to garner respect, and you have to discover fresh talent. The first part can be difficult enough, but the second is even harder. If you’re interested, they’d probably appreciate the career boost.” Mirotam’s lips curved into a smile. “If they’re fresh, undiscovered talent, how do you know about them?” Talin grinned, tilting the back of his hand to show off the red seven. “I have my ways.” As Mirotam gazed at the mark, Talin watched emotion play over his face. Greed, desire, fascination, yearning. He’d seen that look before, on foreigners like Bade who were still coming to terms with what it meant to have the children of the gods within reach. On Anorians like Tano who’d been away for so long that their souls

were hungry for a relationship with their gods. On Anorian artists like Hitari who felt impossibly connected to Ilanosa. On Ilaeians like Aiae who felt mystic reverence for the Anorian royal artist. Talin wanted to stretch his arm across the table and offer the mark to Mirotam. Touch it. Touch me. It’s real. I’m yours. Inhaling, he wished that he had his brothers’ gift for people, for conversation. “Have you been to the Royal House of Art?” “No.” His expression was frank. “I didn’t think that there was any point. As I understand it, the artwork of anyone who works there belongs to you.” Talin smiled at the idea. “Whatever they make on their own time is theirs to enjoy. I won’t come to their homes to take what I please. But you’re right in that they can’t sell it. Usually, they tuck it all away during their employment and then, when they leave the Royal House of Art for good, sell it. Buyers and collectors often come circling around whenever someone retires.” But that hadn’t been his point. “Formally, we stay in touch with artists around the country for various purposes. Informally, many of my employees consider themselves a part of the larger artistic community and know other artists for social reasons. If you’re looking for artists, come to the Royal House of Art and ask around. We can provide you with an official list of people we reach out to, and most of the people who work for me would be happy to put you in touch with their artist friends.” Mirotam licked his lips. It was a sensual, self-conscious gesture, and it awakened such erotic hunger in Talin he had to bite his lip not to copy the motion, not to lean across the table and taste Mirotam’s lips for himself. Soft, they looked so soft he ached. “What a generous spirit of community.” In Ilaeia, art was beauty, and beauty was everything. At the top of society were the most celebrated artists. Beneath that fashionable, beautiful, polished exterior, the Ilaeian art world was cutthroat. People literally killed each other to get ahead. Artists struggled desperately to be discovered and sought after. Patrons fought viciously to establish the best stable of artists. An artist might cooperate to help another artist gain an advantage, but there would likely be a price. And in that context, Talin couldn’t blame them. “The Anorian art world has its own problems.” His heart twisted with shame at the truth of that sentence. “But you’ll often find a communal spirit here. Most artists know how difficult it is to get real payment or real recognition, and whether or not they can achieve their own goals, they’re happy to see someone make it.” Mirotam held his gaze with a considering look. Talin stared back, drinking him in. He was fascinating, dramatic, inexpressibly beautiful. Who was he, inside? What was he thinking?

When Mir had seen Prince Nisutalin for the first time, there by the side of the road, sprawled beneath the carriage, he hadn’t been prepared for it. Overall, he hadn’t been prepared to meet Anorian royalty yet at all, hadn’t expected to bump into the princes so suddenly. More specifically, he hadn’t been prepared to see Prince Nisutalin on the ground, getting himself dirty, helping and trying to fix a stranger’s broken carriage. And he hadn’t been prepared for how strikingly, dramatically beautiful Prince Nisutalin was. Oh, he’d heard about it, he’d known about it, intellectually. It had been explained to him that the Seven Siblings were men of uncanny, unnatural beauty, that looking at them was like looking at the finest art. But he hadn’t realized exactly how beautiful Prince Nisutalin was. Prince Anosanim was divinely beautiful as well. Compellingly, undeniably so. But there was something so dramatic, so shocking, about Prince Nisutalin’s red hair, those red eyes, that they held Mir spellbound. Hair so red, so bright, so vibrant, was so gorgeous he almost wanted to believe it artificial. It held every shade of red he knew, scarlet and crimson, carmine and magenta, vermilion and cherry, and more, streaks of dark and light falling side-by-side. His eyes. Eyes so very red they were like nothing else Mir had ever seen. He might try to describe them as akin to a glittering handful of rubies and garnets, but they were so much more than that, more precious, more complex. The longer he gazed into them, the more he saw. Bold, brilliant red. Lighter specks, bright, distracting. Darker specks, mysterious, alluring. Prince Nisutalin’s beauty drew on Mir’s soul. Tonight, he’d known that he’d be at this dinner, known that he’d be among royalty. He’d prepared himself for it, braced himself for it. He could draw on his old skills, rusty as they were, for public appearances and dinner conversation. He’d used to be in his element at this sort of affair, and while he’d lost his old spark, he could at least stumble through it. He didn’t understand why Prince Nisutalin had come to sit here across from him. He didn’t understand why Prince Nisutalin seemed to want to speak with him. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for it, because spending time in Prince Nisutalin’s company was a magnificent, precious gift. And that flourish of a seven on the back of that smooth, flawlessly shaped hand - - no sculptor in the world could create a hand so heartbreakingly perfect - - as red as blood, etched there by the gods themselves, spoke to him. Called to him. When he looked at Prince Nisutalin, it was as if his soul were a bell, struck by a gong, ringing, ringing.

Mir had loved art all of his life. It was in the air in Ilaeia, and he’d lived and breathed that air with relish. He’d studied art in all ways from all angles. He’d taught the queen how to tell works by Ieuaieotie from those by Oeloaieioliu. He’d come to Orina Anoris in part to escape the marked difference between his past and his fate, and in part because it was easier on his family to have him out of the way, but regardless of the circumstances, his father would have sent him on this mission, because he knew art. He had one of the most discerning eyes in Ilaeia, everyone had said so. He couldn’t even tell what other people saw when they looked at paintings. A bunch of pretty colors, apparently. He saw the brush strokes, the lighting, the perspective, the angles, all of the painter’s choices, all of the techniques, what the artist had been trying to do, where he’d succeeded, where he’d failed. Art was its own language. Painting was a form of communication. Some paintings were a sentence. Others were a complete novel. The bad ones transmitted incomplete thoughts and half-formed ideas. Prince Nisutalin was a miracle of living art. A breathing, human sculpture formed by the gods. Every line of his body, every shape and feature, communicated the gods’ love. Alanohi loves you was in the smoothly chiseled line of his jaw. The gods are with you was in the corded muscle of his arms. Mir could have looked at him forever. The people on either side of Talin really wanted to talk to him. Initially, Kudorin had kept them at bay so that Mir and Talin would have a chance to converse. He’d wanted to give them a chance to connect with each other. But this was Mir’s first official public appearance in a long time, and he wanted to be more of a spectator than a participant. So Kudorin let the other dinner guests occupy Talin’s time for a while, to give Mir a chance to eat quietly, and stare at Talin, and not be looked at. Talin hated it - - he wanted to talk to Mir, not anyone else - - but he’d be fine. Talin wanted to pound his fist on the table and yell at everyone to shut up. Didn’t they see that Mirotam was there?! Didn’t they understand that he didn’t give a shit about their idle chit-chat when he could be talking to Mirotam?! The people on either side of him were perfectly pleasant, ordinary people, and he loathed them with the passion of a furious volcano.

As soon as dinner ended and Kudorin left the room, Mirotam started to go. Talin’s first instinct was to shout, “No!” and jump across the table, chasing him down, but decorum held that impulse in check. He did hurry as subtly as he could around the table, catching up with Mirotam just beyond the door. “Lord Mirotam.” That hadn’t sounded half as needy as it could have. Turning, his jacket flaring and ruffling as he spun, Mirotam looked up at Talin in silence, a thick lock of black hair falling away to reveal one beautiful gray eye. The other eye, this time; he hadn’t seen Mirotam’s right eye before, and his heart rejoiced to see how deep and gray it was. Mirotam’s long, black lashes looked heavy. “Prince Nisutalin.” Taking Mirotam’s arm, Ijaie smiled in Talin’s peripheral vision. “Thank you for such a marvelous dinner.” “You’re welcome,” he said without taking his eyes off of Mirotam. He couldn’t look away from Mirotam, and he didn’t want to. He hadn’t planned for it, but as soon as the words left his mouth they made all of the sense in the world. “I want to paint you.” Mirotam frowned at him. Mirotam looked angry. His brain wanted to interpret it as surprise or confusion, but no: Mirotam was angry. “Paint me?” Mirotam’s smooth, cultured voice was thick with scorn, with contempt, with the expectation that Talin explain himself. Talin didn’t know what he’d expected, but - - no, that wasn’t true. Talin had expected excitement. Pleasure. Gratitude. Mirotam should be grateful. Anyone would be grateful. Talin was the royal artist. He was Anosadim Inanodat Nisutalin A Lini, the one who created beauty. It would be an honor, the reward of a lifetime, for anyone to be the subject of his art. Mirotam was an Ilaeian patron, of all things! If anyone understood the gift, the compliment, of being painted by Talin, he should understand it. Irrational fury twisted through Talin at Mirotam’s ingratitude, at the hubris, the - - who did he think he was?! “Yes, I wish to paint you,” Talin said, and suddenly he wasn’t angry with Mirotam anymore, he was angry with himself, for wanting it this badly, for needing it this much. Mirotam’s refusal - - was he going to refuse? Was he actually going to refuse? - - wouldn’t mean as much, wouldn’t mean anything, if Talin didn’t care like this. If Talin asked anyone else and was told no, he’d shrug and find something else to paint. But he had to paint Mirotam. He had to. “I’m an artist, if you recall, and painting is one of my preferred mediums.” “Yes, I recall,” Mirotam said tightly. His hand rose, his fingers tugging his scarf higher, covering his mouth. The fabric looked so light, so soft, Talin wanted to

touch it, too, wanted to - - shit, wanted to draw this moment, the habitual gesture, the grace of his fingers. “You don’t want to paint me, Prince Nisutalin. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I am not art.” Not art. Not art?! What world was this, which reality had Talin stepped into?! “You are art. I see nothing but art when I look at you. I’ve wanted to paint you since I met you. You’re the most vibrant kind of art.” The kind that lived and breathed art with every movement, every gesture, likeLike Hitari. Faltering, Talin blinked quickly, trying to shake the association, his heart racing at the sudden thought. Was that why he was so drawn to Mirotam? Did he unconsciously see something in Mirotam that he’d seen in Hitari? The beauty, the grace, the love of art and fashion? Hitari had embodied art, had been the kind of model who brought art to life, who became art with a breath. Now when Talin thought of Hitari, he thought of ugly things, betrayal, and he didn’t see beauty there anymore. But once… “It’s very kind of you to make such a generous offer,” Ijaie said. “But it would be a shame to see such a great artist waste his genius.” “Good night,” Mirotam said, turning away. Not knowing what he felt anymore, Talin watched Mirotam walk away, black coat fluttering behind him. As soon as dinner ended, Desin pulled Anosanim aside. His other brothers seemed to have had the same idea, and half of the family ended up grouped around Anosanim in a quiet corner of the family’s wing, demanding and expectant. “That was the guy, wasn’t it?” Tano asked. “The guy Talin’s been sketching lately?” Selorin asked. “It’s hard to tell what he looked like,” Bade said. “Between his scarf and all of that hair.” Desin shrugged. “At least, judging by his hair, he’s clean and healthy with a good diet.” With an indignant snort, Rini smacked him on the arm. “What are you going to do next, check his teeth? Examine his hooves?” “I’m just saying, he takes good care of himself.” “But who is he?” Tano demanded.

“Wait, how’d you see him?” Desin asked. “You were in the kitchen.” “When Keromik brought out the fish course, I asked him to tell Tano to come and take a peek,” Remin said. “That was delicious, by the way,” he told Tano, sliding his arm around Tano’s shoulders with a smile. “I loved every bite. I wanted to lick the plate.” Tano gazed at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world, leaning in for a kiss. “I love it when you lick things.” While Remin and Tano started making out, Desin pushed them out of the way and turned back to Anosanim. “Yes or no, just tell us if that’s the guy.” “What’s wrong?” Orinakin was looking at Rini closely. “You feel-” “His name’s Lord Mirotam!” Rini gasped and then bounced in place. “Gods above, it was hard to keep that in! His name’s Lord Mirotam, his sister is Lady Ijaie, I talked to Xio Voe and he talked to Bade and Xio Voe knows the family and he sent the invitation and I’ve been trying not to tell but it’s been so hard! I didn’t want anyone to tell Talin and warn him and ruin things, you know how he gets.” “Lady Ijaie?” Bade asked. Tano was pushing Remin against the wall and Remin was pulling off Tano’s vest; Bade gave them a quick, curious, embarrassed look. “I, ah, met her. I didn’t have any idea she was related to whoever Talin’s been sketching.” “We met them when Lady Ijaie’s carriage broke down. We stopped to help, and Lord Mirotam came by to take her home.” Anosanim toyed with his necklaces, looking nervous and excited. “He’s wonderfully interesting, don’t you think? They’re half Anorian, on their mother’s side.” “They’re here to find Anorian artists,” Bade said. “No one else in Ilaeia is the patron of an Anorian artist, so I think that Lord Soaei wants to make a name for himself, to surpass his father’s reputation.” “Lord Soaei,” Orinakin said thoughtfully. Selorin looked at him keenly. “What?” Rini demanded. “What do you know?” “There was some trauma in the family,” Orinakin said, frowning at the memory. “An illness, or an accident.” Anosanim gasped. “Then his apparel may not be a fashion statement,” Selorin said. “It can’t have been him,” Rini said. “He’s Anorian, isn’t he? He can’t be diseased.” “What kind of accident?” Bade asked.

“I’m not sure. It’s the sort of thing everyone talks about but no one really talks about,” Orinakin said. “I think that the family spent some time in the Jacacean Empire. To recover. Possibly for medical care.” Desin grunted. Whatever he thought about the Empire’s politics, their medicine was the best in the world. “Black is the color of death, in Ilaeia,” Anosanim said. “Perhaps someone was taken, and he’s in mourning.” “His sister’s not,” Rini pointed out. Talin stormed past them wordlessly and strode into his quarters, slamming the door. Everyone winced. “That didn’t go well,” Rini said. “No,” Orinakin said quietly, looking troubled. “It didn’t.”

Part 299 Mirotam had said no. He’d said no! Why had he said no? Why would an Anorian who worshipped Alanohi and revered the Seven Siblings say no? Why would an Ilaeian patron who loved art say no? Why would any art enthusiast say no? What had he meant by “wouldn’t be appropriate?” He wasn’t an appropriate subject? He wasn’t art? Everything was art! Life was art! There was art in every human being. How could he not know that? Anyone should know that. Any Anorian would know that. But Mirotam had been reared in Ilaeia. Where art was beauty, and what was beautiful was rigidly defined. Ilaeian notions of beauty followed very strict guidelines. Members of the nobility bound certain parts of their bodies and wore padding on other parts, powdered this and dyed that, not for fun, not because they simply thought that it looked good, but because if they didn’t, they’d be shunned. People lost social status based on the length of their bangs this season and gained it back based on the color of their fingernails the next season. They all wanted the right invitations, the best social standing, to have their patronage wildly sought after. To be admired and respected, they had to be beautiful. And Ilaeian standards of beauty were cruel.

Maybe Mirotam wasn’t beautiful by Ilaeian standards. Talin couldn’t think of anyone who could be. But being a patron in Ilaeia and not being beautiful meant being ostracized, shunned, rejected. Maybe Mirotam thought that artists should paint only what was truly beautiful, and in the Ilaeian warped view of beauty, Mirotam didn’t qualify. Talin wasn’t Ilaeian. He was Anorian. He saw beauty in everyone. While there were people and themes he didn’t want to laud or glorify through art, he didn’t consider any one subject entirely inappropriate for artwork; it was all in the context. And there was no way that it would be inappropriate to paint Mirotam. If there were anything truly abominable about the man, he wouldn’t have been welcome at Kudorin’s table. Whatever was wrong with him, his sister agreed with him on it. Had he committed some crime? Done some horrible, grievous act? Been banished from Ilaeia for heinous treason? Talin couldn’t think of anything he’d done that could be horrible that wouldn’t have landed him in prison. Had it been something technically legal yet unthinkably immoral? Could anything Mirotam have done be worse than what Hitari had done? Worse than an act against the government of which Anosukinom Mutotanosa was the head? Talin had painted Hitari. An Ilaeian patron would be aware of that. Mirotam said that he wasn’t art. Hitari had been unfailingly conscious that Talin saw him as art. Had used his beauty, his artistic skill, like a weapon. Distracting and disarming. Alluring and seducing. Striking and hurting. Talin didn’t want to get caught up in someone’s aesthetic value again. Didn’t want to fall into the trap of another man’s beauty. Was it a weakness in him? His own fatal flaw? To be so dazzled by aesthetics that he overlooked corruption? He had to find out what was wrong with Mirotam. He had to know what Mirotam’s failings were. Was there something deeply, morally confused in Mirotam’s soul? Or was Mirotam’s crime simply not being “beautiful” enough? “I want to paint you.” As the carriage rolled away from the palace, Mir turned his face to the closed window and shut his eyes, rubbing the thin linen of his gloves across his knuckles. Ijaie’s touch was light at his knee. “Don’t think about it for another moment. I’m sure that Prince Nisutalin had no idea what he was saying.”

No. No, he couldn’t have known. If he knew, he never would have suggested anything so ludicrous. The idea of the royal artist painting Mir. Now. It was monstrous. “It’s so. Well.” With a light, uncomfortable laugh, Ijaie withdrew her hand. “Once upon a time, that conversation would’ve gone very differently, wouldn’t it? Just think what an accomplishment it could have been, Prince Nisutalin seeking you out, asking you to pose for him. It could’ve led to some excellent things. Imagine the response in Eiapelai!” Yes. Once upon a time. Before. Not anymore. Mir twisted the end of his scarf around his fingers. “It’s such a shame. It was very kind of him to ask. A bit confusing, I must say. I wonder what it is about you that caught his notice. Your unusual mode of dress, I would have to guess. So unfashionable. And so uncommon, here. It’s atrocious, the ways people clothe themselves here, or in some cases don’t clothe themselves. The skin they bare! Wrinkled, sagging, pudgy, bulging, scarred. Well. I’d rather see bad fashion than such bad skin, as I know you agree. It’s just not pleasant to show off one’s flaws.” “You are art. I see nothing but art when I look at you. I’ve wanted to paint you since I met you. You’re the most vibrant kind of art.” It was the sort of thing Mir had heard all of his life, before. The sort of thing he’d come to expect people to say to him. But of all of the times he’d heard people express ideas like those, it was different coming from the royal artist. Different, from Prince Nisutalin. But why had Prince Nisutalin said it now? Now, when he was nothing like art? Now, when there was nothing beautiful about him? Confusing, yes, Ijaie had been right about that. Confusing and cruel. The most savage kind of cruelty, to say those words to him when he was like this, when he could never be painted again. The paint, the canvas, they would be wasted on his likeness. Prince Nisutalin’s incomparable genius, lavished on him? He couldn’t bear to think of it. “We won’t mention it to Mother or Father,” Ijaie said quietly. “It’s best to put it entirely behind us.” Yes. In the past. With his beauty. And his former life. Like most people, Talin didn’t hear very well when he was angry, and Anosanim wanted to give him a chance to process his emotions before trying to talk. So Anosanim waited a little while after dinner for him to calm down.

Sitting in the courtyard, he chatted with his brothers. After a little bit, light flickered against his windows. Someone was in his quarters. Smiling, Anosanim excused himself. His smile vanished for a moment when he entered his apartment to find Talin sitting on the floor of his closet, cutting up one of his dresses. “Nisutalin!” Aghast, Anosanim swooped down, hoping to rescue the precious garment. Talin pushed him away dismissively. “I’m just shortening it. You never wear it, and I’ve always told you that it would look better with a shorter skirt, and I’m tired of waiting for you to get it tailored.” Still dismayed, Anosanim felt ruffled and petulant. “You might have asked me first.” Talin didn’t look up from his task. “Mirotam doesn’t want me to paint him.” Immediately, the dress became irrelevant. Gazing down at Talin in wonder, Anosanim sank to the floor. “You told him that you want to paint him.” Of course Anosanim had known that Talin wanted to; that much had been obvious. But he hadn’t been sure that Talin was ready to tell other people about that yet, even ready to tell Mirotam. “What did he say?” “What he said.” Grimacing, Talin shook his head, staring down at his work. “What he said was, ‘You don’t want to paint me, Prince Nisutalin. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I am not art.’ Now what the fuck did he mean?” “‘I’m not art?’” What a bizarre sentence. “Everyone’s art! That doesn’t make any sense at all!” That must have been the worst of it, the core of it, because now that it was past, Talin looked at Anosanim, making eye contact. “His sister said that if I painted him, I’d be wasting my genius.” “Oh!” Anosanim was so offended on Mirotam’s behalf, he didn’t know what to do with himself. “What a horrible thing to say! What sort of relationship do they have? Who would say such an absurd and wicked thing about her own brother? Even in jest, I couldn’t imagine saying something so cruel!” Talin snorted. “She wasn’t jesting.” Looking angry again, he began to sew in a hem with rapid, neat stitches. Anosanim sighed, taking a moment to admire Talin’s work. Such beautiful little stitches, it was like watching Libi work. “Sometimes I think that you have the most precious hands in the world.” “They do look just like yours,” Talin said dryly, but for an instant, he smiled down at the dress.

Seeing that smile made Anosanim feel better, and he trusted that they could figure out this business about Mirotam not wanting to be painted. “I might know a little something about, well. Maybe not. It’s no real answer, just a bit more context. Orinakin said that he remembers hearing news about Lord Soaei’s family a few years ago. There was some trauma in the family, some great tragedy. You know the sort of thing everyone wants to gossip about. Orinakin remembers it being something like an illness or an accident. Both times we’ve seen Mirotam, he’s been dressed all in black. He might be grieving for someone.” Talin stared at him, fingers falling still. Eyes widening in bafflement, Talin asked, “Did he kill someone?” “Nisutalin!” Appalled, Anosanim pushed at his thigh with one foot. “Don’t say such ludicrous things! Of course he didn’t kill someone! If he’d killed someone, he wouldn’t be out and about, would he? Or eating at Anosukinom’s table!” Of all things! Anosanim absolutely shuddered at the thought. “He might have killed someone to defend himself.” Frowning, Talin began to stitch again. “If he fought off a family member’s attack, that’s something everyone would want to gossip over.” Anosanim gasped at the notion. “What a horrible thing to go through! How unbearable!” It would explain the black clothes and the gossip, though. “I suppose that it makes more sense than an illness. Unless the disease was in his Ilaeian relatives, someone from his father’s side of the family. I don’t remember hearing a thing about it. Do you suppose that Libi remembers?” Talin’s frown deepened. “I want to hear it from Mirotam. Ijaie was hinting at something earlier, saying that Mirotam doesn’t go out much, but I don’t want to hear about him from other people. I want him to tell me about himself in his own way.” What a marvelously romantic thing to say! “You,” oh, gods above, he couldn’t say that! “You simply adore him, don’t you?” He tried to ask it softly, respectfully, gently, wanting to introduce the thread of conversation, needing to talk about it, but not wanting to stir up any other ideas, not wanting to agitate any old wounds. Finishing the hem, Talin looked uneasy. “Yeah. You could say it like that.” Then he shrugged as if shaking something off, shedding unwanted thoughts. “I don’t know how else to say it.” Anosanim nodded and let that be that. Hope kept blooming in his heart - - he couldn’t help it - - but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. The best could be ahead, or the worst, or maybe it would all turn out to be nothing, in the end. He didn’t want to pin all of his dreams for Talin’s happiness on someone he didn’t

even know, but he also didn’t want to dread the absolute worst and limit Talin’s chance to heal. “There’s something I’ve been wondering that just doesn’t make sense to me. Their father’s a patron. Ijaie dresses very fashionably. Why does Mirotam dress so unfashionably? Not that he doesn’t look absolutely wonderful! He makes quite a bold statement, I think. So dramatically mysterious, it’s quite evocative. But it’s not fashionable, is it? I suppose that it might be, it isn’t as if I’ve been to Ilaeia lately, and fashions do change all of the time. Is it the cutting edge of style, now, to cover yourself so closely?” Talin shook his head. “Not that I know of. The last I heard, they were still exposing one shoulder.” He rolled his eyes. “There was some scandal about one of the patron’s sons going so far as to shave his chest and powder his nipple and expose more skin than everyone else, and a lady fainting at the sight of it. But that’s the latest news, and I think that Mirotam left Ilaeia before the letter was sent, so he would’ve been in Ilaeia as the shoulder-exposing fad was still taking hold, maybe, or before that. And before that was the plunging neckline fad. Either way, as far as I recall, it hasn’t been stylish to cover up so much of yourself since long before he would’ve been born.” “But why would he dress so unfashionably?” “He’s Ilaeian,” Talin said. “He wouldn’t. Unless it were for a very good reason, a reason strong enough to risk being ostracized.” “He’s Ilaeian,” Anosanim repeated, trying to put himself in the mindset of a different social context. In Orina Anoris, people covered up because they were cold. Why did people in Ilaeia cover up? Well, of course, yes, to hide parts of themselves that weren’t deemed lovely enough to be presentable. “Does he have some physical aspect of himself that he’s self-conscious about?” Ilaeians got upset over the silliest, most normal things, like wrinkles and fat and body hair. Oh, was that it? “Is he hairy, do you think?” He did have awfully thick hair on his head, abundant and healthy hair, as Desin had noted. It was absolutely gorgeous, Anosanim thought, and wonderfully dramatic, the way he wore it, but maybe his hair grew so black and thick all over. “Maybe he got it from his father’s side of the family.” “Wouldn’t he just shave it?” A patron would, yes. “Then if he’s hiding something, covering up something unsightly, what would it be?” “If Orinakin said that there was a trauma.” Talin hesitated, holding his gaze, looking worried. “Maybe there was a fire.” Gasping, Anosanim put his hand to his throat. “Oh, Talin!”

“It would explain how he dresses, if someone died in the fire and he was burned.” “Anoha Inanodu, anoha Akanoti,” Anosanim said breathlessly, hurriedly. “Oh, Talin, I hope that you’re wrong. What horrific pain.” It did fit the situation, in an awful, awful way. “Orinakin said that he thinks the family went to Jacacea for medical care. If it’s something so damaging as fire, you’d need the best medicine, and a patron would be able to afford the trip.” Talin winced. He closed his eyes, then shuddered, opening them again as if unable to bear whatever he’d thought of, whatever he’d seen. “Gods above.” Making the sign of the gods, he stared at Anosanim. “What has he been through?” With a pang in his heart for Talin’s pain, a pang in his heart for Mirotam’s, Anosanim moved in, embracing him. “Inanodu be with him. Whatever hurt he’s known, let him not go through worse.” Tano understood that there had been a very hostile feud between Orina Anoris and the Jacacean Empire for a very long time, but he was not going to let it continue to play out in his kitchen or his presence. By now, he’d broadened his horizons enough to understand that most of the ideas he’d grown up with regarding Jacaceans were flat-out wrong, or at least oddly twisted interpretations of reality. He’d also benefited from time spent with the Emperor’s children, and not everyone else had that luxury, so he was willing to be patient, but he was also firm. He didn’t put up with anti-Jacacean sentiment or silly, mean, prejudiced ideas. If he didn’t put up with those things from Anorians, he without question wasn’t going to put up with anti-Anorian sentiment from any Jacaceans. One nice thing about working with Jacacean chefs was that they all treated Xio Voe with reverence. However, a few of them weren’t as respectful as he preferred when it came to Anorian culture and the Seven Siblings. When he caught a stray rude comment here and there, he politely corrected it. But when he caught more than one from the same person, he decided to make himself more clear. There were three repeat offenders. Tano spoke with them about their comments privately, suggesting that maybe they weren’t aware of how their words might be perceived. One of them corrected herself immediately, but the other two did not, and as he decided which chefs to ask to stay on for a while, they didn’t make the list.

Talin was conflicted. He paced. He sketched. He brooded. He wondered. He feared. He hoped. The theories he and Anosanim had come up with, they were wrong, weren’t they? “You don’t want to paint me, Prince Nisutalin. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I am not art.” What kind of statement was that? “I am not art.” The words rang in his head until he wanted to scream them to the sky. He needed explanations, he needed answers. And he wanted to get them from Mirotam. He didn’t want other people’s accounts and other people’s gossip. He wasn’t interested in idle speculation or filtered versions. He wanted the facts as Mirotam knew them. He was going to get them. Tano had a dozen Jacacean chefs clamoring for a job. He’d decided to hire two chefs, so he had to figure out a way to reject ten people and send them on the long trip back to the Jacacean Empire. Tano wasn’t used to turning people down, and it was especially hard to consider doing it to people he’d gotten to know so well and enjoyed so much. He had three favorite candidates. They weren’t perfect, but they were excellent, and they had qualities he thought would be a great asset as he built a team. He had to figure out a way to narrow three down to two, so he decided to get some other perspectives. Remin had spent enough time in the kitchen to get to know all of the candidates well. He’d knew their personalities, he knew their food, Tano trusted his judgment, and he was someone they’d have to cook for if they got the job. Lo Ariside had to work alongside anyone Tano hired. She was smart, she was observant, she knew what it took to keep a kitchen running smoothly, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. After dinner, Tano emptied the kitchen and then huddled together with Remin and Lo Ariside over a few cups of tea. “Tell me who your favorite two chefs are, of the group. Which two would you hire?” “Esevais and Riulex,” Lo Ariside said. Tano laughed, happy with her prompt reply. He’d known that she’d have an opinion ready. “Esevais,” Remin agreed. “And Ciruel.”

Wow, okay. It was definitely a great sign that they’d named the three people he wanted to hire. He was on the right path for sure. All three of them agreed on Esevais, so that was a definite choice. “What about Riulex and Ciruel do you like or not like?” “Ciruel’s soup,” Remin said. “His potatoes. His roast duck. He’s a great chef. Of all of them, he’s the most consistent. If you’re cooking for King Voe, you need consistency.” “Respectfully,” Lo Ariside said. Remin smiled, nodding. “I prefer Riulex. She’s a great technician. King Voe wants an attractive plate, and Riulex provides a clean, good-looking dish every time. Her knife work is quick and neat and uniform.” “Presentation is important,” Remin acknowledged. “But taste is more important. Ciruel’s flavors and textures never let me down.” “Their primary role is to assist Chef Pitok,” Lo Ariside pointed out. “He dictates the flavors. They’ll be doing a lot of prep and presentation and knifework. That’s Riulex’s strength.” “They’re also being hired to cover for Chef Pitok’s absences. They’re going to have to lead the kitchen. I think that Ciruel will provide a better meal.” “Riulex will run a better kitchen. She’s more clean and more efficient. She’s a more precise, careful chef.” “A precise, careful chef who doesn’t have Ciruel’s skill for flavor. She may be great with a knife, but Ciruel’s better with spices.” Sighing, Remin finished his juice and sipped at Tano’s. “It’s all relative. They’re both very skilled chefs. We’re arguing as if there’s a major difference, but they’re really very close, as far as I can tell.” “It’s a matter of degree,” Lo Ariside agreed. “Either would be a strong addition to the kitchen.” Tano ran his fingers through Remin’s hair, wondering how people made such important decisions all of the time. He was great at everyday sorts of decisions, but leadership decisions which affected other people’s livelihood were too important. “I could hire both of them and send Esevais back.” “Don’t you dare,” Remin warned. “I’d rather see you hire Esevais alone than two other people and no Esevais at all,” Lo Ariside said. That was no good! Then he’d have to reject eleven people. “Thanks for your opinions.” They’d helped a lot, except that they hadn’t helped at all. Hearing their

arguments had only solidified his interest in both candidates, leaving him more certain that all three were great choices. Maybe if he prayed on it some more, the answer would come to him. He met Remin’s eyes. “Would you-” “Absolutely,” Remin said, taking his hand. As Remin began to pray, Tano relaxed, opening himself to the gods. He loved praying with Remin. The rise and fall of Remin’s commanding, soothing voice was inspiration and comfort. Everything would be all right. He’d make the right decision. The answer was going to be right there in front of him when the moment came. The address Talin had procured belonged to an elegant home. The Ilaeian influence was visible in the exacting way the greenery had been manicured. No one else in the neighborhood had bushes pruned into precisely measured spheres. Talin wondered what their gardener had thought of that when given the order. Some amount of laughter had probably been involved. Or maybe they’d brought an Ilaeian gardener with them. They’d certainly brought other Ilaeian staff; the butler who opened the door was Ilaeian, dressed in a long, pleated, yellow skirt and staring at Talin as if making a facial expression would have meant instant death. Talin’s first thought was that Xio Voe was much better at maintaining an expressionless face. Then he amused himself by considering whether Xio Voe had time to add butler training to his already full schedule. He didn’t know what the latest Ilaeian way to introduce oneself was, so he went with an old-fashioned way he was familiar with. In Ilaeian, he said, “Grace and health befit you. I am Prince Nisutalin with a desire to greet Lord Mirotam.” “Grace. And. Health,” the butler replied, biting off the end of each word. “Lord. Mirotam. Awaits.” Pivoting sharply, the butler strode off into the house. Wondering if Anorian customs seemed funny to Ilaeians, since most Ilaeian customs struck him as hilarious, Talin followed. The butler led him through a dark house with ornate furnishings. He saw a lot of red and gold, a lot of expensive art. A lot of good taste. Whoever had decorated the place was Ilaeian and wealthy, which he might’ve guessed, but also sensible and artistic. The more Talin saw, the more he enjoyed his surroundings. There was harmony to the décor, a pleasing balance, good contrasts. Certain elements were memorable, a striking splash of color in one corner, an evocative set of

shapes in another. He liked it. And he liked knowing that Mirotam lived in such an aesthetically pleasing home, liked thinking of Mirotam in such attractive rooms. Walking him into a sort of drawing room, the butler turned. “If. You. Will. Be. Kind. Enough. To. Wait. Here.” Lifting his chin, he pivoted sharply, paused dramatically, then walked out. As Talin looked around, the room brightened in welcome, and he smiled, murmuring a prayer to Akanoti in thanks. There were no mirrors, which was odd; Talin hadn’t seen a mirror in the house yet, but a typical patron’s home would be full of mirrors. Members of the Ilaeian nobility were supposed to remain mindful of how they looked at all times, and if they weren’t, the mirrors were around to remind them. Did the family actually use this room, or was it set aside to receive company? There was a leather-bound book on one table, and Talin eyed it, curious. The third volume in Veraiscaine Ericain’s series on the history of the international art trade. Talin had read it more than once; it was an excellent complement to his ancestors’ memories, filling in a lot of necessary context. He tried not to make too much of finding it here; he and Anosanim and Orinakin and Xio Voe had all read it, as had Ritek, as had Selorin, as had many other people he knew. There wasn’t a lot of meaning or coincidence if Mirotam happened to have read the book, too. And it might be Ijaie’s, anyway. He wanted to spin romantic significance around the idea that he and Mirotam had similar interests, similar tastes. But he was an artist, Mirotam was a patron, and they both liked art. There was nothing sensational in that. Or so he tried to remind himself. But he was in Mirotam’s home, and his eyes were greedily taking in everything, and his heart was pounding, and his ears were straining for the sound of footsteps, and the harder he ruthlessly tried to stomp down his futilely fluttering hope, the faster its wings beat. By all that was holy, what was Prince Nisutalin doing in his home?! For an instant, Mir’s mind flashed back to what it had been like before. Unexpected company! He’d have raced to his rooms, sending servants scattering, enjoying the excited chaos of the moment. He would’ve changed clothes entirely, no matter what he’d been wearing originally. He would’ve ordered his hair freshly styled, his make-up reapplied, his nails tended to. Half of the excitement of receiving company was in the self-created, anticipatory panic of dressing for it.

Today, there was no rush of energy. No flurry of activity. He didn’t even bother to change clothes. He just adjusted his scarf and ran his fingers through his hair and made his silent way downstairs. The butler didn’t like him. The new servants they’d hired for this trip found him creepy. He’d overheard them discussing him, how “eerie” he was, “like some wayward spirit, haunting his own house.” One of the maids had said, “What a tragic figure he makes. Well, you know what it’s all about, don’t you?” And then they’d gleefully fallen to recounting the story again, retelling the tale of his tragedy, even though they all already knew it. The servants didn’t like being in Orina Anoris. They didn’t approve of the servants in the neighboring houses. Not enough gossip, too much atrocious fashion. Interestingly enough, those were two of the reasons Mir was starting to relax. As he drew near the parlor door, he touched his scarf again, smoothing the light fabric with his fingers. He didn’t know how he felt. Sometimes he tried to feel nothing - - it could be easier, that way - - but seeing Prince Nisutalin had stirred up a whole cluster of overlapping feelings, before. The ultimate artist, a child of the gods, Prince Nisutalin inspired him as an Ilaeian, as an Anorian, as a man, as a patron, as a lover of art, as a believer. He’d wanted to know everything. What was Prince Nisutalin like, what did he think about, what did he care about, what inspired him, what moved him, what did he want out of life, what did he know of Alanohi? Beautiful, he was so beautiful, Mir forgot everything else in the burning desire to see him again, and stepped into the room. Mirotam. Talin took a step toward him, enthralled by the sight. He was again dressed in all black and covered up almost entirely. His scarf seemed to be connected to his shirt, as though the tailor had sewn it with a large excess of fabric at the top which Mirotam kept around his neck and chin. The material draped all the way down to his waist in elegant ripples of black. The sleeves billowed out but were stopped short at mid-bicep by a black buckled cuff, after which thin, tight black sleeves came all the way down to his hands like fingerless gloves. His pants were form-fitting but elaborately embroidered and neatly tucked into slim cloth boots. His hair was in his face, as always, the thick, black waves of it protecting him from Talin’s view, as if even the way he grew his hair were a measure of self-defense. He dressed this way even at home. Because it was his preferred

method of dress? Because he felt the need to cover up not only in public but even in his own abode? “Lord Mirotam.” His voice came out throatier, huskier than he’d expected, and he cleared his throat impatiently. He wanted to get right to the point, but he had to begin with some sort of manners, didn’t he? “Thank you for seeing me. I apologize for dropping in on you without notice.” He spoke in Ilaeian, something he was accustomed to doing in the art world. “I am yours to command.” It was a traditional phrase, the sort of thing commoners said to patrons and patrons said to royalty. Talin had trouble believing that Mirotam covered up out of shame, because he didn’t act like someone who was embarrassed or self-conscious. His eye contact was so direct, his sentences so clear, his bearing so confident, that he seemed bold. There was a sort of stalking swagger to his stride, a straightness and firmness to his back and shoulders, that created an impression of arrogance. When he spoke, he didn’t hesitate to voice his thoughts, didn’t stumble over his words. He seemed very independent. Was it a front? Wanting to ask about Mirotam directly, Talin instead pushed himself to be polite. What would Anosanim say? “Your home is lovely.” He wanted to find out how much of Mirotam’s influence was in the décor. “Did your sister have a hand in its decoration?” “Thank you. I directed it myself. May I offer a seat or some refreshment for your comfort?” He didn’t want to sit down for polite chit-chat. He wanted to paint Mirotam, wanted to find out who Mirotam was, wanted to touch his fingertips to Mirotam’s lustrous, wavy hair. He sat. “Thank you. I was just admiring your copy of Veraiscaine Ericain’s work. I’ve read it many times.” “Yes, it’s very influential.” Mirotam sat comfortably in a chair, shoulders back, arms spread, legs crossed. His fingers tapped once, lightly, against the armrest. With a toss of his head, his hair exposed one eye and fell across the other. Talin wondered if that had been a deliberate effect. “I’m surprised that anyone of your depth of knowledge would waste time in reading about art history. You embody the history of art.” Talin grinned, liking that. “Was that flattery or a challenge?” Talin could only see a corner of his mouth, but the way it quirked suggested a smirk. “Either. Both, I suppose. What is your business here, Prince Nisutalin? What can a humble lord do for you?”

Humble? Now it was Talin’s turn to smirk. Now that Mirotam had asked, he could get right to the heart of the matter. But if Mirotam said no, he’d either have to leave or start a quarrel, and he didn’t want this conversation to end. “Your mother. Lady Soaei. How is she?” “She is a healthy, graceful, busy woman. She is a great asset to my father and a great friend to the queen.” That was a strange, formal sort of answer. Full of praise, but impersonal. “She doesn’t visit Orina Anoris?” “She’s had no compelling reason.” That struck Talin as an odd remark. “I think that Anosukinom would disagree.” “Anosukinom,” Mirotam murmured. He studied Talin with curiosity. “Do you see him often?” Bursting into laughter, Talin quickly tried to recover. Mirotam looked only more interested, not offended, but Talin said, “Sorry, that was rude. I see him very often, yes. I spend a great deal of time with all of my brothers. Not only in public or officially, but privately. Sometimes I think that I can’t turn around without bumping into another stripe of the rainbow. The only reason I ever go for a day without seeing Prince Orinakin or Prince Bade or King Xio Voe is when they’re literally outside of the country.” “Does the pharaoh not live in a separate wing of the palace?” Talin almost said, “The palace isn’t that big,” but it was one of the largest residences in the world. It wasn’t vast in his perspective, since he’d lived there for all of his life, but it probably seemed huge compared to Mirotam’s home. Instead, he said, “He does, but he spends a lot of time all over the palace. He likes to be out and about among people. He likes to check up on us and see how we’re doing. He thrives on interaction with people he loves. He’ll stop by my private quarters or visit my office in the Royal House of Art or stroll into any room where two of us have gathered. And we’re welcome in his wing of the palace at any time.” Mirotam rubbed the fabric of his scarf between his fingers. “You are blessed to spend so much time in his divine presence.” “I am.” He remembered seeing Mirotam stare along the dinner table at Kudorin. “You can spend time with him, too. Come to dinner again, or attend any of the festivals. Even visit him in the throne room. If you wander around the palace long enough, you’ll run into him. He strolls around to greet people. He understands that people wish to see him and speak with him and receive his blessing, and he

likes interacting personally with everyone.” Talin had to know, “Were you reared in your mother’s faith?” “Yes,” Mirotam said hastily. “Yes, of course. She taught us the names of the gods and the prayers, and she told us of the festivals. I respect my father’s gods, but I do not pray to them.” “You must come to the festivals while you’re here.” Or had he, already, and Talin hadn’t seen him? Was it possible, had Talin already missed opportunities? “Have you been to any of them yet?” Mirotam made a minute adjustment to his scarf as if making sure that it covered him properly. “I do not often attend public functions.” Talin frowned. “The festivals aren’t like the opera. They’re a time to celebrate our gods and thank them for their blessings.” Mirotam’s voice was tense. “Yes, I know full well what their purpose is, thank you.” All the more reason for him to attend. “You’ve spent all of your life on foreign soil, only hearing of the festivals, and now you have the chance to participate in them, to learn from the priests and thank the gods and join in the praise and worship at Anosukinom’s home, and you’d rather stay shut up in your house?” “Yes,” Mirotam snapped. “Yes, I would.” Wanting to glare at Mirotam, wanting to demand answers, Talin made himself look away, made himself take a calming breath. Mirotam excited him, and he felt more on edge than usual, more emotional. Capable of greater happiness and greater anger. A whisper in the back of his mind reminded him that Hitari had sent him swinging from highs to lows and back, too. He didn’t know whether to ignore that warning or escape from Mirotam while he still could. “My sister has gone. She has attended each festival since our arrival.” Mirotam’s voice was quieter now. “What she describes sounds very exuberant.” The descriptor was so apt that it tugged a chuckle from Talin’s chest. “Yes, they’re very exuberant.” He met Mirotam’s gaze again. “If you have any questions about the festivals, I’m qualified to answer them. I’ve attended every festival that’s ever passed in my lifetime. I’ve even hosted a few. And maybe you’ll be able to answer some of my questions about Ilaeian holidays. Prince Anosanim has made it a goal in his life for the two of us to attend the Days of Jubilation before Oranomi takes us, but I’ve always wondered if the Days of Food and Song might be better.”

Mirotam sat forward, smoothing his fingerless gloves over his hands. “Anyone who’s anyone makes the most of the Days of Jubilation. As a result, anyone who wants to be anyone is there, too. The city’s packed for a week before, there are crowds everywhere, there’s always a bunch of fools causing a clog of carriages in the Great Round, it’s punishingly hot, and by the time the Jubilation starts we all hate each other and just want it to be over. Although,” he said, considering, “if you really want to go, you can’t miss the king’s ball on the final night. It’s very select, and you’ll see the best fashion of the year. People work all year long to put together that one outfit. Which is silly, because if you really want to be in style, you won’t be able to start until a week before at the most. Anyone who has to hire a public tailor suffers for it.” Talin grinned. “A patron like Lord Soaei must have at least two private tailors.” “Three for apparel,” Mirotam said as if it were a matter of course. “One for household linens. Now, the Days of Food and Song.” He uncrossed and recrossed his legs. “They started out as religious celebrations, of course, but I can’t say that there’s more than a nod to that now. I’m sure that in the countryside it’s different, but in Eiapelai it’s largely about the musical performances. We always take,” he grimaced as if irritated with himself, waving the word away dismissively, “took a great deal of care to attend the right performances. Anything hosted by the royal family takes precedence, and then we had to make the most of any performances my father’s artists were involved with. Fortunately, my father is usually able to ensure that those points overlap.” Then Mirotam had attended events, before. He didn’t go out much anymore, but he’d used to. What had changed? “All in all.” Mirotam looked down at his hands, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the shine of his buffed fingernails. His thick, wavy hair shielded his face. “I’d say that the Night of Ice was always my favorite event of the year. It’s greatly underappreciated. It’s only one night, but it gives everyone something to enjoy in the dead of the winter. Everyone was always so grateful for something to do, we were happy to be out, happy to see each other, happy for an excuse to get dressed. Maybe because it was only one night, we all wanted to make the most of it.” Talin wondered if he could ask. “When was the last time you went?” Mirotam’s shoulders twitched upward protectively, and then he straightened, holding Talin’s gaze directly, boldly. As if he refused to cower; as if he wouldn’t let himself hide. Talin loved that spark of defiance in him. “When I was seventeen.” “Seventeen. How old are you now?”

“Twenty-one.” He tipped his head to one side, a dare in his eyes. “Is there anything else that you’d like to ask me, Prince Nisutalin?” “Is there anything else that you’d like to tell me?” Mirotam’s eyes narrowed. “No.” Talin shrugged, sitting back, pretending not to care. He was burning to know, but he wasn’t going to push for it. He wasn’t going to demand. There were parts of his own history he didn’t relish describing to people, details he didn’t want to share with just anyone who wanted to know them, so he figured that Mirotam might not want to explain the way he dressed to anyone who wondered about it. He wanted to know, badly, but that put Mirotam under no obligation to tell him. Mirotam sat back, too. Tapped his fingers on his armrest. “I would like to know more about the festivals. Like the Alanohi Festival. What is the day like?” He liked that Mirotam wanted to know. He thought of it as his festival now, and he took pride in it. “How much detail do you want me to go into?” “I’ve never been,” Mirotam reminded him with a smile. “Tell me everything.” It had been a long time since Mir had entertained company. A long time since someone of standing, someone his own age, had visited him like this. It was an odd sort of social call. Prince Nisutalin wasn’t preening or flirting, wasn’t showing off, wasn’t dropping the right names and associations into their conversation, wasn’t complimenting Mir or inserting cues for Mir to flatter him. In most conversations with peers, Mir was used to elements of proving one’s worth, proving one’s superiority, and a lot of flirtation. This conversation was more akin to how he spoke with family members. Ordinary, frank, and more directly informative. Conversations in Orina Anoris tended to be less of a performance than those in Ilaeia. Mir had been glad not to receive callers in Eiapelai anymore, because instead of enjoying the elaborately constructed banter, he’d been painfully aware of how inappropriate and false it all was. He’d realized that once he stripped away conversation about fashion - - because he no longer dressed according to the latest style and no longer went out to see what others wore - - and conversation about the latest plays and parties - - because he no longer attended them and it was pointless to pretend that he ever would again - - and flirtation - because it was grotesque for anyone to employ sexual innuendo in conversation with him - - he had nothing left to converse with anyone about. Formerly, he and his friends had engaged in lengthy conversations about those topics, day after day. Who’d worn what, who’d been where, who’d been caught lavishing too

much attention on whom, what everyone’s upcoming plans were. They’d talked about their fathers’ artists and their neighbors’ tailors and the king’s dinners, and when they’d told the same stories time after time, it didn’t matter, because on some level it wasn’t the information that mattered as much as how witty and dramatic and sophisticated they proved themselves in the retelling of it. Mir had known all of the tricks, all of the gestures and winks and pouts and nods. He’d been celebrated for being charming and daring and chic. And now he was speaking with Prince Nisutalin, the royal artist, in the most ordinary manner possible. He was making no effort to perform, to layer in flattery, to build up any sort of impression in Prince Nisutalin’s mind. It was odd to speak in such a plain way, to be so much like himself, without the typical artifice of Ilaeian manners. With Prince Nisutalin A Lini, of all people! This was the moment of a lifetime! Mir had spent the first seventeen years of his life in preparation for an opportunity like this! He wondered how Prince Nisutalin would’ve responded to him, before, if they’d met while he was still capable of flirtation, while he was still worthy of flattery. Would they have enjoyed a game of seduction together? Would Prince Nisutalin savor a little tease? He wondered how the prince spoke with other men, attractive men. Prince Nisutalin had seemed restless and impatient, earlier. Tense. But as they’d moved from talking about themselves to talking about events, they mood had eased. Prince Nisutalin seemed content now, pleased. He had a quick, unselfconscious smile which he showed in radiant flashes and a dry, ironic grin which made a sensual curve of his lips. His posture was relaxed. His gestures fascinated Mir; he seemed to be someone who naturally, of his own accord, would talk with his hands, but had for some reason been trained out of it. His fingers would skim forward to illustrate a point, and then his hands would settle deliberately on his armrests; they’d stay there for a while, and then he’d forget himself and gesture again for just a moment before his hands returned to the armrests. Mir wished that he’d stop restraining himself and give in to movement. He had beautiful, elegant, strong hands, hands built for shaping clay, and the gestures he did make were efficient yet graceful. The sound of his voice was magnificently nuanced. There was an unusual richness to it, a musical roundness. He often spoke briskly, efficiently, but sometimes he slowed down for effect, especially when he made a pointedly sarcastic remark. A slow, dry comment was often accompanied by a quick twist of his lips or a deliberate arching of one eyebrow. When Mir had been at the palace for dinner, the woman on Prince Nisutalin’s left had always been flustered by his sarcasm, unsure how to respond, while the woman on his right had always

been thrown into gales of honest, appreciative laughter. Mir liked the prince’s sense of humor. It was a little sharp, a little dark, and while it was frankly selfdeprecating at times, it didn’t seem to have affected the prince’s self-confidence. It always made Mir want to make a quick barb in return, to see if he could make the prince laugh. He hadn’t heard the prince laugh yet. A chuckle here or there, a derisive snort, but no full laughter. He wondered what it would sound like. When Prince Nisutalin relaxed into conversation, his voice deepened slightly and his expression became more open. Mir hadn’t known that before, hadn’t seen it at dinner, but it was happening now. Because he enjoyed Mir’s company? No, more likely because he enjoyed his current subject. Mir loved the subject, too. He’d heard about the Alanohi Festival and its companion Festival of Art before, but never in such vibrant detail. Never from this perspective. Prince Nisutalin told him everything from the beginning, starting with how the performances and artworks on display were chosen. He loved getting this insider’s view on the process. He loved hearing Prince Nisutalin’s automatic reverence for Alanohi, as if being jaded had never been in fashion. He loved that Prince Nisutalin would share so much information so openly, as if there were no reason to guard one’s expertise to maintain an edge over others. He loved gazing into those brilliantly, dramatically red eyes and hearing that confident, round voice and knowing that Prince Nisutalin was as deeply immersed in the world of art as he was. He’d felt a little off-balance ever since he’d come to Orina Anoris. He was having trouble figuring out how some aspects of Anorian culture worked. He felt a kinship with Prince Nisutalin, even though it was presumptuous of him to believe that he understood art nearly as well as the royal artist. In this strange new time, in this post-life exile, in this temporary journey into an odd homeland, Mir had felt very lonely. Cut off from himself, abandoned by his friends, understood by no one, and now in a foreign country which had always been a nebulous concept before, he’d felt adrift, apart, alone. Prince Nisutalin was a dramatic splash of beauty and color who looked at Mir with questioning intensity he didn’t understand. Looked at him as if there weren’t only a creepy ruin behind his costume, as if there weren’t only a ghost inhabiting his clothes, but as if there were a real and interesting person within whom the prince wanted to know. Spoke to him as if he were an equal with a life and thoughts and opinions and a past and, most importantly, a future. When other Anorians spoke to him that way, he scoffed at their ignorance or became angry with their foolishness. If only they knew, if only they understood,

they’d never speak so blithely. But the way Prince Nisutalin spoke to him made him feel as if there might be something left in the world for him after all. The way Prince Nisutalin looked at him was so curious and assessing and penetrating that it made him wonder what the prince saw. They’d been talking forever. Talin really had to go; he was already late for one meeting, and after that he was scheduled for a satacon. He didn’t want to leave Mirotam, but he wasn’t about to stand up Kudorin. It was hard to tear himself away. He loved Mirotam’s bold gaze. He loved how expressive Mirotam’s face was even though he could only see shadowy bits of it behind that tumble of black hair. He loved how Mirotam’s hands were always smoothing and stroking and petting the light black cloth of his clothes with an intriguing sensuality. He loved how confidently Mirotam spoke, how fluidly he manipulated the rolling vowels of Ilaeian sentences. As he talked about the festivals, about their history, about preparing for them, about managing the chaos of a festival day, Mirotam listened so intently that he quickly found more and more things to talk about to feed Mirotam’s interest and keep Mirotam’s attention. As Mirotam smiled and laughed and looked entertained, he tried to be more amusing, coming up with more jokes, trying to be witty. Mirotam had a way of snickering that Talin found sexy and almost unbearably suggestive - - dirty, really, it sounded dirty - - and Talin noticed that Mirotam usually snickered after Talin said something sarcastic. It was embarrassing to be so thrilled by Mirotam’s snickering that he deliberately said sarcastic things just to hear it, but at least they didn’t have any witnesses. He didn’t want to do all of the talking himself; he wanted to get Mirotam to talk, to hear more of Mirotam’s ideas and opinions and experiences. So he started asking more questions, and Mirotam started to offer more thoughts, and they fell into a free back-and-forth. Talin kept catching himself smiling like a helpless fool, and Mirotam kept touching the cloth around his mouth, and Talin hadn’t thought that he’d ever feel anything like this again in his life. He’d been wrong, and that he didn’t know whether to feel terror or hope at this stirring of desire and fascination and passion in his chest. Their conversation wasn’t directly personal, since he didn’t want to push for intimate details or history Mirotam didn’t want to share. But as they talked about the festivals, they talked about religion and art, and Talin learned quickly about Mirotam’s genuine love of art, his excellent taste, his broad knowledge of art history, his shy reverence for the gods. He was, culturally, much more Ilaeian

than Anorian, and so his quiet religious devotion was surprising, as Ilaeians were more likely to go to the opera than to the temple. He did tend to tie art and beauty and works of art and everyday life up together in a way Talin didn’t really agree with, but that was typical of all Ilaeians. Talin had found that some Ilaeians from the countryside, like Aiae, had their priorities in a somewhat better order, but Ilaeians from the cities were awful, judgmental snobs. Mirotam definitely had a streak of that hypercritical snobbery, and Talin wondered why he dressed so unfashionably if he considered aesthetic standards to be so important. Finally, Talin really had to go. He couldn’t linger and let himself be late to the satacon. But before he went, he had to ask the question which had brought him here. Flipping his hair back over one shoulder, he leaned forward, spreading his thighs. “What is it you object to in my offer to paint you?” One gray eye widened in surprise. “What is it that I object to? A simpler question would be, what don’t I object to? It is inappropriate, Prince Nisutalin. It is grotesque. Someone with half your talent painting something half as unworthy as I am would be a crude insult to art.” Something? Not someone? Was that a rhetorical trick or was he genuinely comparing himself to a thing? “What is it specifically which makes you believe yourself to - - no,” Talin said, cutting himself off, frustrated. “No, I don’t care. It’s not a question worth asking, it’s not a point worth debating. There’s no set of criteria people have to meet to be good enough to sit for a portrait. There’s no list of demands to be met before you can be deemed worthy of being painted. If there were something you could do to be an inappropriate subject, you’ll have trouble convincing me that you’ve done it. You were welcome at Anosukinom’s table. If you’re a moral enough man to be invited into Anosukinom’s presence, among family, to dine as a guest, then you’re moral enough to be painted. People are art, Lord Mirotam. Life is art. You are art.” Mirotam inhaled sharply, his one visible eye narrowed now. As Talin had spoken, he’d toyed with his scarf, and it had slipped down a little, exposing his mouth. His exquisite, red lips were set in a firm, angry line. Angry; he didn’t look selfconscious or ashamed, he looked angry. “Art is beauty. I would expect Prince Nisutalin A Lini to be aware of that. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I won’t debate the point. I am an inappropriate subject for any artist, and a monstrous one for you.” “Art and beauty are not synonymous,” Talin snapped. “I would expect anyone who gives a fuck about art to be aware of that. And I would expect an Anorian to know that life is beautiful. People are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Mirotam jerked slightly, staring at Talin in stunned disbelief. One wide, gray eye silently accused Talin of atrocities. For a long moment, Talin felt a tangle of emotions twist and twine around his heart. Guilt, fear, resentment, desperation. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d gone too far, he’d done something dreadful, and now he’d be punished for it, now he’d lose something precious for it, now he’d risked everything; he wanted to take it all back, to make promises, to do anything to smooth things over, whatever it took. In an instant, he recognized those feelings, those impulses. This was how he’d felt when he’d been with Hitari. Especially the first time around, right before they’d broken up. He didn’t have to feel that way now. He shouldn’t feel that way now, and he wondered what was wrong with him, that he fell so quickly into those old patterns. What was wrong with Mirotam, that Talin felt that way around him. Angry with himself for being so stupid and weak, Talin set his jaw. Standing suddenly, Mirotam stepped away, turning his head so that his hair fell across his cheek, drawing his scarf back up over his mouth. “I’m not very Anorian, then.” “Maybe not.” Talin got to his feet, having to leave, wanting to stay. “I’ll ask again. Will you sit for me?” Mirotam glared at him defiantly. Angrily. “No. I won’t help you to disgrace yourself.” Talin took a good look. Memorized him in that moment. And left.

Part 300 The house was still. Alone in the darkness, Mir rolled over in bed. Why had Prince Nisutalin come to see him? There were too many other demands on the prince’s time for such a casual visit to a veritable stranger to be pointless. Then what had the point been? What of their conversation had been polite small talk and what had been the real substance of it? The bulk of their discussion had covered the festivals, but the prince couldn’t have come to promote the festivals. That idea was nonsensical. What was left, then? The prince’s desire to paint him.

Mir rolled onto his side. The very thought of it made him physically uncomfortable. To ask to paint him, to insist so earnestly, meant that prince didn’t know the truth. Couldn’t possibly know. Or did the prince know, and this interest in painting him stemmed from some morbid curiosity? He didn’t understand Prince Nisutalin as well as he’d expected to. On some points, he found the prince to be a kindred spirit. On other points, it was as if the prince had never spent a moment in the world at all, and spoke from some bizarre fantasy existence. “There’s no set of criteria people have to meet to be good enough to sit for a portrait. There’s no list of demands to be met before you can be deemed worthy of being painted.” What mindless anarchy was this? That was simply, demonstrably untrue. Who thought that way? Only the best were worthy of portraiture. Artists of the lower classes, those who worked for pay, might work with an ill-suited subject for the right coin, but true art came from great beauty. The most magnificent portraits and statues were those of the most ideally handsome people of their time. Who would waste talent upon a portrait of an ugly person? Those old political radicals might, the rebel artists who’d snuck their work out of the Empire. But even they’d selected their subjects with great care, painting only the worst specimens of humanity, deliberately attempting to portray the most ugly, most ill, most impoverished. Did Prince Nisutalin seek to make a similar example of him? Angry, confused, Mir rolled over again. In the darkness, his fingers crept across the back of his hand, feeling the familiar lines of his scars. He’d used to avoid them at all costs, the sight of them, the feel of them. When he’d finally begun to acknowledge them, he’d monitored them obsessively, exaggerating in his mind both how bad they were and how well they were healing until he’d almost torn himself apart in fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Now, they were a familiar part of him, an inescapable fact, the truth of his new life. He was more than his scars. But they were a barrier he couldn’t pass. “People are art, Lord Mirotam. Life is art. You are art.” Prince Nisutalin’s words circled his thoughts, baffling and impenetrable. Why would the prince think these things? Why say them? Who could believe them? Under which circumstances might they possibly be true? Prince Nisutalin was an artist. He should see the world as the elite artists did, as Mir did. How did the brain of someone so educated and so superior contain the foolish mutterings of the most ignorant cialex?

People weren’t art, people were common. Art was unique and elevated. Art was beautiful and profound, a heightened form of communication, an ideal to which the world should aspire but could never truly reach. People were mundane, boring, ugly, petty. Art was the essence of their elusive higher nature made visible, tangible, audible. Anyone who thought that people were art demonstrated a grossly distorted perception of art or a laughably confused idea of people. But the Anorian ideas of art and people seemed to differ from his own. Their approach to clothing alone was incomprehensible. He’d seen ugly, handsome, wealthy, and poor people alike in fashionable and unfashionable attire. What was he to take from that? What sort of message did that send? Why didn’t the upper classes send a stronger message to the lower classes? Give them a greater example to aspire to? Why weren’t the classes more precisely defined? Society wasn’t nearly so stratified here, and he couldn’t figure out why. People mingled so freely, it was almost as if they didn’t care who they associated with. Mir never would’ve been caught hugging someone badly dressed on the street or sharing his goods with some poor stranger. He donated properly to the right charities at the right times of year like the rest of the nobility. Here in Orikodisata, he’d seen a well-dressed couple invite someone they hadn’t even seemed to know at all into their carriage. He wanted to believe that she’d been a sex worker, but he honestly suspected that they’d only wanted to offer her a comfortable, convenient way to her destination out of the afternoon rain. A wet, poor, bedraggled stranger! What had they been thinking? What if someone had seen them? How would they ever have explained it? It wasn’t that Mir was opposed to extending human kindness to those in need. But it was best done through the proper channels. Offering a ride to a complete stranger was the worst kind of misguided foolishness. What if she’d slit their throats and stolen their purses? The poor were desperate and not to be trusted. Not that they looked very desperate in Orina Anoris. He’d begun to wonder if they kept their poor outside of the city and refused them entry. It wouldn’t do to have the needy languishing on the palace steps with Anosukinom inside, after all. It was unsightly enough to have them around in Eiapelai, but it was a different matter entirely in Anosukinom’s city. It raised unpleasant ethical and religious questions. Then again, because this was Anosukinom’s land, maybe the poor weren’t as much of a problem. Quite possibly the priests provided aid to the worst cases. Charity seemed to work very differently here.

It was an odd country. The differences made Mir feel as if he were surrounded by some very well-intentioned but hopelessly confused people. Their ideals were pleasant enough, but unrealistic. Still, if he hadn’t been aware of how very wrong they were, he might have wanted to believe in them. It was an appealing outlook on life, in its own way. Letting people dress however they liked, letting them associate with anyone they pleased, considering them all equally worthy artistic subjects. Very egalitarian in spirit. Very welcoming. It extended a tantalizing promise that he could make a life for himself here, any sort of life that he pleased. It was a sweet dream, but he wasn’t going to let himself fall into hope. With a deep sigh, Mir lolled across the pillows. So strange, to be in the dark and not feel entirely alone. No matter how quiet the night, he remained aware that, if he should ask for it, the gods might provide him with light, with water. If he sat up and prayed, the gods might grant him candlelight or a fire. Very different from those agonized nights where he’d suffered, desperate and alone, feeling abandoned to a fate he’d never expected. It was difficult to feel entirely abandoned when the gods were only a prayer away. No wonder the poor might live differently here. Fire, light, heat, and water were always available to them. They were secure in the knowledge that the gods were with them, always listening to them. And no wonder the wealthy might be more generous in their daily dealings. They knew that the gods were present, watching. What if these egalitarian notions caught on? What if Prince Nisutalin’s ideas about art spread? What if artists began to paint anyone they liked, regardless of observable aesthetic beauty? The world would be littered with paintings and statues of all sorts of people. All ages and sizes and shapes and proportions. All classes and races and everything else would be on display. What would they have to aspire to? Seeing themselves in the world’s greatest art would reassure them that they were suitable just as they were. “I would expect an Anorian to know that life is beautiful. People are beautiful. You are beautiful.” Flinching away from the thought, Mir sat up. He wasn’t beautiful. It was a fact, the truth, as real as the sun: he was not beautiful. He had been, once. He’d lived that way for seventeen years. He knew what it was like to be admired, petted, respected, indulged, favored for his looks. He knew what it was like to be sought after, what it was like to be considered artistic inspiration.

He wasn’t beautiful anymore. He never would be again. People are beautiful. It was a lie. A horrible lie. If people, all people, were beautiful, then he was beautiful. And he wasn’t. He knew it every time he looked in the mirror. He saw it on his sisters’ faces. He heard it in the servants’ whispers. He lived it in his mother’s grief, his father’s scorn. He still had his title. His wealth. His education. But he’d been indoctrinated with the knowledge that beauty was paramount. It was a favorite joke among his peers. Someone might take an extra moment to primp in the mirror, and someone impatient would tease, “Beauty isn’t everything.” Everyone else would laugh with the expected response: “It is to an Ilaeian!” He wondered what people would say to that, here. If he said “beauty isn’t everything” to an Anorian, how would she react? Feeling unsure of his footing in this unusual country, Mir reached out in the darkness. On the headboard, his fingers felt across a wide, black candle with three wicks. Withdrawing his hand, he tucked his hair behind his ear and let his touch drift along his scars. Quietly, wondering, he whispered, “Inom anina Akanoti na aka.” Akanoti rewarded him by lighting the candle. With the canopy draped around the bed, the candlelight served to make the bed feel more snug, more private, shielded from the world and the night’s darkness beyond. Mir gazed at the candle. He wondered what the gods thought of mortal ideals of beauty. He wondered what the gods found beautiful. He wondered what their answer to “beauty isn’t everything” would be. Hesitantly, testing, he said, “People are beautiful.” The candlelight remained unchanged. “Art is beauty. I am ugly. Beauty is everything.” The candlelight remained strong. Did the gods hear him? Did they care? “Anoha Akanoti.” Light withdrew. Darkness descended. Mir’s fingertips traced the lines of his scars. Chatting with a group of students, Rini passed out ribbons, letting the children choose their own colors. He was talking with a little girl about her plans for the

ribbon she’d selected when he noticed the other kids getting excited about something. Turning, he looked around to see Selorin ambling down the hallway. “Hey! Prince Selorin!” Rini wondered what he was doing there. Wasn’t he supposed to be at the courthouse? Smiling at him, Selorin came over. “Prince Rini.” They hugged, and then Selorin greeted the kids. As was pretty typical for Selorin, after he asked the kids how they were enjoying their visit to the palace, he started encouraged them in their education and reminding them to be law-abiding citizens. The kids stared up at him in awe and promised to learn a lot, and one of the kids who’d chosen a blue ribbon touched very gingerly at the fabric of Selorin’s pants as if making sure he really stood there. Then there was a lot of hugging and blessing, and the kids continued on their way, and Rini turned to Selorin. “What are you doing here?” “I ended up with some time to myself, so I came to ask Orinakin and Bade to lunch.” Selorin draped an arm around his shoulders and they walked towards Orinakin’s office together. “Would you like to join us?” “Yes! Where do you want to go?” He loved going with Bade to restaurants. He felt that the more restaurants Bade went to now, the more it made up for all of those years Bade had never set foot in a public eating establishment. “Orinakin likes the grilled fish at The Faded Star.” Rini elbowed him. “You like The Faded Star.” “I do. Where would you like to go?” Hunh. Where hadn’t he been lately? “Where hasn’t Bade eaten yet, that his father wouldn’t be embarrassed by?” Selorin made a thoughtful noise as they reached Orinakin’s door. “I’m not sure that there are any left.” He knocked. Orinakin opened the door himself, looking happy to see them. “What brings the two of you to my office?” “Do you and Bade have time for lunch?” Selorin asked. “We can go to The Faded Star,” Rini suggested. Orinakin smiled at that. “I’d love to! Let me talk to Tesulin. Bade should be in his office, if you want to invite him.” Then he touched Selorin’s sleeve. “Let’s see if Talin can join us.” Selorin nodded. “We’ll stop by on our way to the restaurant.”

Talin? Rini sighed. And here he’d thought that he was going to get to enjoy lunch. Orinakin reached over, tugging lightly at the end of Rini’s pigtail. “Anosanim won’t be able to lunch with him today, and he’s been so distracted and moody lately, I-” Rini snorted. “Talin? Distracted and moody? How can you tell?” “Be nice,” Selorin chided him. “Go talk to Tesulin, we’ll see Bade.” Rini rolled his eyes but decided not to press his luck with any more smart comments. Bade was happy to join them, so they piled into an open carriage and went to the Royal House of Art. When they got there, Rini started to get out first, but Selorin nudged him back down. “I don’t have time for you to visit all of your friends along the way. You all stay here, I’ll get him.” Rini was disappointed at that, but it made sense. Selorin usually was so friendly and compassionate that people flocked to him, but he also had a trick of being very brisk and tense and authoritative that got people to keep their distance. If he walked casually and smiled, everyone he passed in the Royal House of Art would stop to greet him, but if he strode through as if he were about to sentence someone, they’d offer blessings and praise from afar. If Rini went in there, he’d stop and talk to everyone and visit his friends’ offices and get a blowjob or two. So, yeah, Selorin would probably be quicker. Talin was standing beside his desk when Selorin entered. He looked surprised but pleased. “Hi.” “Hey.” The door to his private studio was open, and judging by the scent, he’d been painting. Selorin hugged him and deliberately didn’t glance towards his studio; Talin preferred to offer and didn’t like for people to try to sneak a peek at his work uninvited. “I’m going to lunch with Orinakin and Bade, and we hoped that you’d have time to join us.” “Oh.” Talin glanced at his studio, then down at his desk. He gave his studio a look of longing, then dragged his hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay.” Selorin smiled. “Working on something you’d like to get back to?” Something crossed Talin’s face, some expression Selorin didn’t quite catch. Vulnerability? Excitement? Orinakin would have known. “Not that many people have seen it, yet.” Probably no one besides Anosanim. “You can take a look, if you want. It’s still rough.”

Surprised, Selorin let his pleasure show on his face. “An honor,” he said, touching Talin’s side, and then he stepped into the studio, curious about what he’d find. Yes, it was a painting. Selorin supposed that it was rough, by Talin’s standards, but in its unfinished state it had a dreamy, provocative quality. It was a man, standing in an Ilaeian room. A man dressed in a lot of black, with a scarf covering the lower half of his face and a mass of wavy, black hair. Mirotam. “This is superlative. This is gorgeous.” Selorin gazed at the painting, amazed. “I can’t wait to see it when you’ve finished with it.” There was something about the elegant room that made Selorin want to step into it, to touch it. “Lord Mirotam reconsidered?” “No.” No? Selorin turned to look at Talin, wanting to understand. “I thought that he told you that he didn’t want you to paint him.” Talin’s expression was almost blank, but Selorin saw anger and resentment beneath the surface. “He did.” There had to be some misunderstanding here. “But you’re painting him.” Talin’s eyebrows twitched. “Good, then I did a decent enough job that you can recognize who it is. I must be as talented as people say.” Selorin wasn’t going to be put off with snide comments. “You don’t have his permission for this.” Talin glared at him. “I don’t need his permission for this.” “This isn’t for display, is it? This is for your own purposes, for your private collection.” “The date for the unveiling is being set. I won’t invite you if you don’t want to come.” “Talin.” Selorin wanted to empathize with Talin’s frustration, but he was more concerned for Talin’s ethics and for Mirotam. “He withheld his consent for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, and if I knew I might not agree with it, but that’s irrelevant. Whatever his reason, it’s important to him. You should honor that.” “His reason is that he thinks he isn’t art. He is art. He’s wrong.” “Sometimes people are wrong,” Selorin said. “It happens. You’re wrong, too, in overriding his consent. He told you, directly, repeatedly, that he didn’t want you to paint him.”

Talin crossed his arms over his chest, tossing his head. “Is it suddenly illegal to paint someone? Am I breaking a law I don’t know about? Are you going to have me arrested?” “There’s no law involved, and you know it. Stop being clever and defensive, and be ethical. You have the ability to override his desires, but that doesn’t make it a positive moral choice. What kind of ruler do you want to be? What kind of man?” Fury sparked in Talin’s eyes. Selorin spoke quickly. “I’m sorry. It’s a gorgeous painting, and I would love for you to finish it with pride and show it off to the world. I-” Talin kicked a stool; it skidded across the room. “Get the fuck out.” “Give it some more thought,” Selorin urged, moving towards the door. “Maybe if you show it to him, he’ll give you his permission.” Talin slammed the door in his face. Rini expected to see Talin and Selorin walk out of the Royal House of Art together. Instead, Selorin came out alone, and got into the carriage quietly, and looked worried and tense and pissed off. It took them forever to get Selorin to explain what was wrong. After he told them what had happened, they didn’t talk about anything else. Orinakin thought that it would all work out. Bade wasn’t as convinced as Selorin was that Talin was doing something wrong. Rini thought that they should just let Anosanim deal with it. “I feel terrible,” Selorin said in the carriage on the way back to the courthouse. He leaned against Orinakin’s side, and Orinakin rubbed his thigh. “He shared something terrific and very special with me, and I made him feel like shit about it.” Yeah. Talin didn’t get over stuff like that very quickly. Rini tried to think of something positive and helpful to say that might make Selorin feel better as the carriage drew up in front of the courthouse. And then he blinked as Kudorin stepped out of the courthouse and waved. “Uh, I don’t know how Talin feels about you right now, but there’s someone who looks happy to see you,” he said, waving back. The three of them turned to look. With a relieved, happy smile, Selorin returned Kudorin’s wave. “Thanks for lunch,” he said, sounding like his mood was improving already. As Kudorin strolled towards them, Selorin kissed Orinakin and

hopped down. As the carriage pulled away again, Kudorin and Selorin hugged and walked into the courthouse together, talking as they went. Anosanim was looking forward to relaxing after a busy day of lengthy, chatty meetings. His plans were to enjoy a massage and a late dinner, catch up with his brothers, and spend a little time with the belas. When he got home, the first person he bumped into was Desin. The second was Tano. The third was Rini. And all three of them asked him with a guarded, worried expression, “Have you talked to Talin?” When he asked why they wanted to know, they tried to brush him off. Talin wasn’t anywhere to be found. The idea that he might be with Mirotam made Anosanim’s heart flutter with nervous excitement. Deciding to try the Royal House of Art, Anosanim changed into something more casual. Leaving his apartment, he saw Bade passing by. About thirty seconds into conversation, Bade started to look uneasy. Gods above, did everyone know something Anosanim didn’t? Determined to get to the bottom of this, Anosanim deliberately mentioned that he was looking for Talin. Bade looked panicked. “I haven’t seen him. He wasn’t at dinner. Maybe he’s still at the Royal House of Art. I should go, I’m keeping Orinakin waiting-” “Bade.” So unfortunate that there wasn’t more to Bade’s name; at moments like this one, Anosanim preferred to be able to whip out more syllables and more formal versions. The idea of only have one name of one syllable baffled him. He’d never understood why Bade’s parents had named him so simply. One syllable! They’d left themselves with no recourse, no alternative. Anosanim loved his own name not only for its profound meaning and traditional significance but because it gave him so many choices, so much to play with. “Did you hear anything about Talin today? Anything that I might want to know about?” “About Talin?” Bade asked, edging away. “Today?” Anosanim lightly took hold of his wrist to keep him from escaping. “Oh, well, we did stop by the Royal House of Art this afternoon.” Suddenly Bade was casual and breezy, as if nothing were wrong. It was a very bad imitation of the times when Vade tried to get away with telling a portion of the truth. Seeing how awful Bade was at it made Anosanim realize what an adept liar Vade was. “We meant to invite him to lunch with us, but he didn’t come. It was a shame. Lunch was great. We went to The Faded Star restaurant. Orinakin and Selorin love it there. Extra ordered something new, some chicken with a honey glaze-”

“Bade!” Anosanim simply would not be distracted by Bade’s ramblings on Rini’s lunch choices. Although if Lo Teramon had a new dish to serve, he’d certainly have to try it out. Maybe he’d stop by there for lunch tomorrow. “What in the world is going on? What’s wrong with Talin?” Bade winced. “He and Selorin had a disagreement about his new painting.” The building was quiet. Everyone had gone home for the night. Seated on the floor of his private studio, Talin leaned back against the wall and gazed across the room. Gazed at the unfinished painting. Gazed into that elegant Ilaeian room, at mysterious Mirotam. He could see how it would have looked in the end, what he would’ve done to complete it. Footsteps. He recognized the rhythm of Anosanim’s heels, and he waited, listening, as Anosanim entered his office. “Talin?” He didn’t bother to reply. Anosanim came in and, after a moment, sat beside him against the wall. They looked at the painting together. Anosanim held his hand. “Bade told me,” Anosanim said, finally. “What you and Selorin talked about.” Talin rubbed his thumb over Anosanim’s knuckles. “He’s right.” “You can show it to Mirotam. Maybe once he sees it, he’ll-” “I’m going to burn it.” “Nisutalin!” “I’m going to burn it,” he repeated firmly. “Selorin’s right.” “That’s no reason to-” “If I leave it the way it is, it’ll end up on display someday. Maybe it’ll be a teaching tool, or maybe it’ll be some mystery painting that has art historians debating over why I didn’t finish it. Once I’m dead, no one else will get rid of it. So I have to do it, to protect Mirotam.” “I love you, and I know that you’re right.” Anosanim’s grip tightened on his hand. “But I’m not going to let you destroy it.” Talin sighed. “Is Selorin wrong or right?” “He’s right, but-”

“Then I was wrong to paint Mirotam at all. Especially like this, so directly and obviously. It’s not even subtle. I placed him in his own home, in Ilaeian surroundings. There can be no doubt who it is. I shouldn’t-” “Just let me hold onto it for a little while. I don’t think that you’re finished with him. I don’t just mean the painting, I mean the person. You aren’t ready to let go yet. Maybe things will change. I just can’t - - I can’t let you destroy it. I’d never be able to forgive myself. Not now, not like this. Let’s wait and see before we do something irreparable.” Talin grimaced. “I want to be done with it.” Anosanim knew that he was talking about more than the painting. “But you aren’t,” Anosanim said quietly. “So let’s wait and see.” Selorin was asleep when he felt a touch across his back. “Prince Selorin,” Jekari was whispering. “Prince Selorin, Prince Talin’s here.” Wrinkling his nose, Selorin pushed his face into Jekari’s chest, trying to remember how to get his eyes open. Who? Talin? “Let him in,” he mumbled. Yawning, he ran his hand over Jekari’s back. Whoever else was in bed with him - - Kelano, if he remembered correctly - - got up. Jekari caressed his hair. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” Talin’s voice said. “I was going to come back and apologize in the morning.” Talin. Talin! Sitting up, pushing blue hair out of his face, Selorin was abruptly awake. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I-” “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have acted like such an ass about it.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Talin shifted his weight. “Anosanim’s going to hold onto it for me, for another week or two. Month or two, probably. He needs a little time to get used to the idea of burning it.” Selorin smiled at that. “Thank you. It is a gorgeous work of art. I’m sorry if I didn’t communicate that to you clearly enough. I’d be thrilled if you could find a way to resolve the issue without damaging the painting.” Talin shrugged. “I asked him twice, and he said no both times. Asking a third time would just make me even more of an ass. Unless something else happens to change his mind, I don’t think there’s a way to salvage it.” Selorin nodded at the truth of it. “I wish that I understood his mindset.”

“Yeah.” Talin smiled wryly. “So do I.” Red. Black. On his back in the grass, Kudorin studied the branches overhead in the morning sunlight. He turned one tree black. He turned one tree red. A leaf fell from one tree as a second leaf fell from another, and as the two leaves fluttered down to him, they fluttered close together, uniting, blending into one. Idly reaching up, he plucked the leaf from mid-air. Red on one side. Black on the other. Studying it as the trees faded back to their natural hues, he murmured, “Shiefa.” “Anosukinom,” Xio Voe said, very far away in the Jacacean Empire but still very close to him, always very close. Rolling onto his stomach, Kudorin twisted the leaf’s stem between his thumb and forefinger, causing the leaf to spin before his eyes. “In one word, what does the color black represent in Orina Anoris?” “Love.” “And red?” “Art.” “What about the color black in Ilaeia?” “Death.” “And the color red?” “Love.” “Love,” Kudorin repeated. “Black for death, red for art. Black for love, red for love.” Xio Voe’s voice was dry. “And how is our brother Nisutalin today?” Kudorin smiled, snapping his fingers and sending the leaves back to their branches, green again. “I have no idea why you’d ask. What an odd question without segue.” “Yes, forgive me,” Xio Voe said coolly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” “Maybe you’ve been working too hard,” Kudorin suggested, rolling onto his back again, stretching in the grass. “To have your mind wandering off like that.” “What would you recommend?” Kudorin grinned, sending Xio Voe a glimmer of his love. “Bed rest. Lots and lots of bed rest.”

Xio Voe’s voice was such a deep murmur it made Kudorin shiver. “For some odd reason, I think that what you mean is a lot of bed, and not much rest.” The Royal House of Art. Staring up at the huge, grand building, Mir felt as if he were standing before a great temple. This, if anywhere, was where Alanohi lived. This was where art lived. Ilaeia might be the center of modern culture, might be home to some of the best art in the world, but nothing compared to the Anorian Royal House of Art. No artist compared to the artist, the one created in Anosukinom’s womb. Wide steps led up to thick, marble columns. Statues, two different enormous representations of Alanohi’s symbol, flanked the broad main doors. The line of statues continued on to ring the building. There would be an elegant garden in the back where artists strolled around vibrant flowers and ancient statuary. Mir had seen it all countless times; any artist who’d ever been to Orina Anoris took the time to depict some aspect of the Royal House of Art. He gazed up at the statues, finally seeing them for himself with his own eyes, not through some artist’s interpretation. They were meant to be seen from this angle, from below, and he drifted to the right, to the left, wanting to absorb every detail, every line. The one on the left was wilder, more emotional, expressing the passion and drama of art, the dashing of violins and the galloping of dancing feet and the heartache of tragic opera. The one on the right was pure and perfect, expressing the beauty of art, the strict aesthetic value, the clean lines and careful forms and evocative precision only a master could create. There had long been debate over which of the symbols was the more important one, the “right” one, but Mirotam had always argued that the best art included elements of both. Now that he stood before them himself, he wondered how anyone could have believed any differently. Within the building were rumored to be great vaults of the most priceless works of art in the world. Infamous paintings, secret operas, pottery dating back as far as the imagination went. Much of the conjecture sounded foolish, to Mir; surely some of those pieces were mythical. But Mir had spent long hours with his friends debating on what might be hidden away in those secret vaults. It had always been a dream to visit the Royal House of Art. Not a dream, but a goal, a necessary and spiritual pilgrimage he knew that he’d take. Once upon a time, he might have expected to sweep in, making a grand entrance with his family, the great patron Lord Soaei touring this monument to art. Today, he came alone, quietly, without fanfare, unexpected, practically anonymous.

Slowly, his fingers toying with the end of his scarf, eager to be inside but relishing this moment of anticipation, Mir mounted the stairs. There were guards outside, as there would be at such a precious site. One of them reverently murmured, “Anoha Ilanosa,” as Mir passed. Irritated at this romantic interpretation of his trauma but not bothering to correct the impression, he paused at the top of the stairs, tempted to follow the pathway around to the back of the building, wanting to see more sculpture. The idea of wandering around Alanohi’s gardens spoke to him. Now that he was here, he wanted to linger over every inch of the grounds, wanted to investigate every corner and admire every bit of artwork. Laughing, two women passed him, entering the building. As the doors opened, he caught a glimpse of the interior. He had to see more. He wanted to be in there. As if compelled, his feet carried him forward into the Royal House of Art. Mentally ticking items off of his list, Talin consulted his schedule. “And where are the designs for the tapestries?” The man and woman seated across his desk glanced at each other, then cast worried looks at him. “Um,” the man said. “They’re, ah, not,” the woman said. “Not quite-” “Not quite what?” Feeling his eyes narrow, Talin stared at them, daring them to deliver the news. “They’ll just need another day,” the man said hastily. “Just another day or two. They’re almost-” “I gave them an extra day or two,” Talin snapped. “I gave them an extra week or two. The deadline is tonight, I need to see them tonight. What’s wrong, why aren’t they finished?” They exchanged glances again, looking uncertain. “Family problems, personal distractions, has someone close to them been taken, what?” Talin demanded. “They seem fine,” the man said. The woman shrugged uneasily and said, “None of that, that I know of.” Impatient, Talin got to his feet. “You’re dismissed. Have the pottery samples on Kikarin’s desk by the end of the day.” Stalking out of his office, he headed across

the building. If people were going to fuck up his deadlines, he was going to find out why. Mir felt as if he were standing in a temple. Maybe because it was as gorgeously made and elegantly decorated as some of the most grand Ilaeian temples, with its artful moldings and high ceilings and gorgeous frescoes. Maybe because his own reverence for the work that was done there made the Royal House of Art feel like a holy place. On the right and the left sides of the lobby, grand staircases with elaborately carved handrails spiraled up to the floors above. He stared up them hungrily, wanting to see everything. Hallways led off in all directions, and people walked everywhere. They were alone, in pairs, in small groups, rushing, hurrying, wandering, strolling, empty-handed, carrying scrolls, baskets, bowls. He tried to guess who they might be, what sort of work they might do, what life was like here in this most artistic place. To Mir’s relief, the people here were more fashionable than the general Anorian population. He was glad to see it; it made sense to him. There were a few stubborn outliers, though, people who looked as if they’d gotten dressed without once actually looking at what they were putting on. Unfashionable people here! In the Royal House of Art! Who would dare?! Would he ever understand Anorians? There was art, the most elevated kind of art, everywhere. Paintings, mosaics, and tapestries on the walls. Statuary dotting the lobby. Display cases of pottery and jewelry and glassware. A collection to rival any patron’s, right there in the lobby. Mir couldn’t wait to see the rest of the building, but he was drawn to the art before him, and he lingered over every bit of it, admiring the beauty created by Anorian hands. There was one object in particular which spoke to him the most. It was a large ceremonial water jug, and he thought that it might be the most beautiful water jug in the world. It had a confident, boldly rounded shape and an elaborately curved handle. At first he hadn’t thought that it was pottery at all; for a long moment, he’d stared at it in fascination, believing it to be carved from some unknown red marble. The polished white gleam and the strong red streaks beckoned him to understand their abstract message. The red paint had been used to great effect, and the way it thickened here and there, darkened and brightened, dashed and tapered, aroused his emotions. What was this? Anger? Grief? Passion? Gazing at it, he felt gripped by it, felt as if he could never tire of looking at it.

Instead of sitting behind some protective barrier as it should have been, the jug sat on a pedestal to one side near a wall. Naked, it should have been vulnerable, and Mir felt horror at the thought that it could so easily be broken if anyone nearby blundered against it. The great loss! But it gave off no air of vulnerability. It was a forceful, fierce piece, and if anyone had knocked it over, he would’ve been shocked to see it give in to physics and break. Captivated by its contours, he stayed with it for some time, studying it from all sides. This was the sort of art he’d dreamt that he might see here at the Royal House of Art. This was what made the pilgrimage worth it. “Anoha Ilanosa.” What, again? Why did Anorians feel so compelled to greet perfect strangers? Mir didn’t bother to look over at the mild greeting, assuming that the person would move on. Whoever it was didn’t budge, however, and Mir finally glanced over. A short woman in rough, red coveralls with a jaunty little ponytail was smiling at him. “Good day,” Mir muttered in Ilaeian, wishing to be left alone. He resented her for disturbing his moment of contemplation. Her eyes brightening, she only widened her smile. “Are you visiting?” she asked in Ilaeian. “Yes.” He turned back to the jug. He felt as if she’d interrupted a private conversation. A true art lover would understand not to intrude on someone’s spiritual reflection upon a work of art. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Such a powerful piece. My name’s Laromet. Are you here to see anyone in particular?” Anorians. Such brazen, cheerful people. At least they were friendly in their boldness. Meeting her eyes again, he decided that she might be useful to him. “I am Lord Mirotam, son of Lord Soaei. I was told that someone would be able to provide me with a list of the independent artists who work with the Royal House of Art.” He deliberately didn’t mention Prince Nisutalin. He’d decided that he didn’t want to risk someone trying to provide him with an audience with the prince. As much as he wanted to see the prince again - - and he hardly went an hour without yearning for another glimpse - - he didn’t want to be confronted with the prince’s bizarre insistence on wanting to paint him. He didn’t understand it, and he couldn’t bear the offense, the insult, the cruelty of it. He didn’t think that the prince meant to be so vicious, but that didn’t lessen his pain. If only the prince hadn’t brought it up. He was the royal artist! That alone made him the most interesting, important person in the world, to Mir. And now that

they’d met, now that they’d spent time together, Mir found him more fascinating, more significant than ever. So strange but so beautiful. Mir would’ve been profoundly grateful for another moment with him. “Oh, great! I think that Kikarin would have something like that. I’ll take you to her, if you’d like.” She took a step back with a bright smile, as if encouraging him into motion. Taking a last look at the jug, he wondered. The answer would be no, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “I don’t suppose that this is for sale?” “That?” Laughing, she looked oddly delighted by the question. “Praise the gods and bless your heart, no. It’s part of the private collection, now. It might come up for sale, later. We have a registry of people who want to buy from the collection. If you want us to contact you in case it’s ever available, all you have to do is leave your name and personal information with Sukaril. Sometimes people are taken long before a piece is ever available, but we try to reach their descendants if we can.” Then there was a chance, however slim. Knowing that, he had to take advantage of it. “Would a piece like that be available within this lifetime?” he asked, following her as she mounted a staircase. “Whose work is it?” “Maybe, it might. It’s a very casual thing, made on a whim, so it’s possible that if you make a strong enough request for it, they’ll consider releasing it this century. It’s Prince Talin’s, he made it a few months ago. As with most things in the collection, the older it is the more expensive it becomes, so it could be relatively cheap, although it is from the royal artist himself, which affects the price greatly.” Prince Nisutalin. Of course. Such a masterful piece, he should have known. While his reverence for the prince grew, his mind whirled. Was she suggesting that he might be able to place a bid on a work of art by the royal artist himself? This couldn’t be commonly known information, or he would’ve heard of the fierce bidding wars among the patrons. “Are there other casual pieces? Ones available for purchase?” “Everything Prince Talin creates himself is held to be cataloged. Whatever isn’t given away or put to some purpose enters the private collection and is retained for posterity. Prince Talin is very free with his work, and many of us have some little keepsake. A casual carving, a scrap of a sketch. If we catch him at the right moment and ask while he’s in the right mood, he parts with his idle work very easily.” Was she suggesting that Anorian commoners had minor works of art created by the royal artist? If he went into private homes, he’d find the prince’s carvings and

sketches there? The idea made him wild with disbelief, with envy, with grief. Those items belonged in the hands of true collectors, in the hands of people who could appreciate the prince’s genius, on display in protected and safe venues. Those items were better entrusted to patrons, not to careless commoners! What was the prince thinking? Was it different among Anorian commoners than Ilaeians? He hoped so; the thought made him breathe a little more easily. “Idle work?” She laughed. “Prince Talin is forever working on something. He sketches incessantly. He can’t part very freely with his creative designs, but his observational sketches aren’t protected as carefully.” Waving to someone and calling out a greeting, she led him along a hallway. Passing guards, they entered a spacious room with leafy plants in big pots and sumptuous red furniture. Two women faced each other across a desk. The one behind it was lovely and tall with a short, angular hairstyle and tasteful clothing. The other woman wore a loosely woven top with mismatched shorts and was clutching a handful of small scrolls. “He’s already extended your deadline. You’ve had more than enough time.” The taller women looked displeased. With the part of his brain not preoccupied in thinking of the water jug and the fact that bits of the prince’s artwork were scattered across the city in private homes, Mir noted how elegant her jewelry was. This room, like the lobby, had art on display and on the walls, and he wondered if it could all be the work of various royal artists through the years. Was any of it Prince Nisutalin’s? He wished that he could be sure. “It just hasn’t come together! If I’m not inspired, I’m not inspired. What do you want me to do?” “That’s why there are two of you on this project. What about Bumarota, where’s she?” “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her that much.” “You haven’t seen her?” the taller woman demanded. “You work in the same office!” The woman shrugged. “She hasn’t been in that much.” “Have you told Urimeb? Has anyone checked up on her? Is she at home? Is she skipping work to go shopping? Has she fallen down a well?!” Looking down, she shrugged again. “I don’t know. I figured she was, I don’t know, I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”

“May the gods have mercy,” the taller woman said, running her hand through her hair as if trying to keep her patience. “Go to your office and finish. I want it on my desk before you leave tonight.” “I can’t finish it tonight! There’s too much to do, that’s way too much!” “You haven’t completed any of your work even though you were given an extension. You’ve neglected to report your partner for failing to come in to work multiple times. Whatever you don’t finish, other people will have to take time out of their own schedules to take care of. Is this a moment when you want to balk, complain, and refuse to do what’s been asked of you? Or is this a moment when you want to do the best you can so as to lessen the blow headed your way?” Waiting for a response, the taller woman raised an eyebrow. Scowling, the other woman turned and stomped out. “May Setanoto grant me patience,” the taller woman muttered. Schooling her expression, she nodded at Laromet and looked at Mir with keen interest. “Anoha Ilanosa.” “Lord Mirotam, this is Kikarin, Prince Talin’s secretary. She can help you with anything and everything,” Laromet said in Ilaeian. “Good afternoon,” Mir said. Prince Nisutalin’s own secretary. Then that door behind her led to the prince’s office? He wished that the door would open, that the prince would come out. He was hungry for another look. “Good afternoon to you,” Kikarin said. Laromet looked between them with a merry smile. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. This position does not allow for much leisure. Ah, yes, thank you,” she said, switching to Anorian as someone entered with a small basket. “On the table, please.” The person set the basket down on a table alongside two similar baskets, then withdrew. “Lord Mirotam, I will be happy to help you.” Back to Ilaeian now. “What is it that you need?” “I seek a list of the independent artists who work with the Royal House of Art. And do you have any personal recommendations regarding significantly talented contemporary Anorian artists who work with a religious theme? The more tangible arts are preferred.” He schooled his gaze, looking directly at her, forcing himself not to let his eyes drift to the door behind her. Was Prince Nisutalin in there, even at that moment? In there, painting, sculpting, composing? Mir wished desperately to have seen him create the water jug, to have witnessed such a creative event, to know what he looked like at his work. “Oh, well.” Thoughtfully, she tapped her fingertips together. “The list, absolutely, yes, if you’ll leave me an address I can have it sent to you this afternoon or tomorrow at the latest. As for personal recommendations, there’s Erumar

Tulamik, she’s fantastic. Her work is somewhat abstract but very moving. There’s an older man who lives - - Laro, who am I thinking of? What’s his name? The carvings?” “Lo Numasori,” Laromet supplied immediately. “He’s a mean old cuss, but his carvings are marvelous.” “There’s Herotap and Uramokin, of course,” Kikarin said. “I’ll have a list sent to you with the other. With their locations, if you’d like. Are you interested in artists with a popular body of work and known reputation?” He was interested in Prince Nisutalin. He wondered how well she knew the prince, how often she was privileged to witness him create. “Anyone, well-known or little-known,” Mir said. “Thank you for your effort.” “I’m always glad to recommend a good artist,” Kikarin said with a smile. “Is there anything else that I can do for you?” Yes. So much more. “If I would like to purchase works of art from the private collection, I should speak with Sukaril? That includes so-called casual pieces from the current royal artist?” “Yes. He’s down on the - - Laro, would you please show Lord Mirotam the way?” “I’d be happy to!” With a wink at Kikarin, she said, “He has his eye on the jug down in the lobby. The red and white one.” Appreciation shone in Kikarin’s eyes. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” It truly was. Mir found himself lingering, wanting to know more about the prince, wanting to know more about the prince’s art. “What does he call it?” “Call it?” Laromet repeated. “He hasn’t named it,” Kikarin said. “I don’t think that it would’ve occurred to him to do so. He made it as a side project, a pet project, something to keep himself busy. He would’ve set it aside and sent it directly to the general inventory, but we recognized its value. Something so beautiful deserves to be seen and admired.” “Yes, I’m so glad that we rescued it from its dusty fate,” Laromet said. “I don’t have any idea when or if it’ll ever be up for sale, do you?” “Fortunately, those decisions aren’t mine to make,” Kikarin said. “I’m always torn between the idea of preserving and protecting priceless objects, and sending them out into the world to be used and enjoyed and appreciated.” As someone else entered the office, she said, “And I’d elaborate on that, but I don’t have the time. Lord Mirotam, I’m very glad to have met you. Laromet, you’ll get his address for me?”

“Sure! If you’ll come with me, we can pay a visit to Sukaril. He’ll be happy to see you, he’s always interested in who wants which piece of artwork.” Only a creator of true genius would make that jug without strenuous effort. The notion that the prince had created something of nearly incomprehensible beauty merely as busy work baffled Mir and told him a great deal about the nature of the prince’s talent. He didn’t want to leave the office, but he tried to remember that he’d decided to avoid Prince Nisutalin. He reminded himself that if he went to see this Sukaril, he’d get to see more of the Royal House of Art along the way. That thought motivated him, and with a nod to Kikarin and a glance at that closed door, Mir drew his scarf closer about his face and followed Laromet down the hallway.