Chapter Two
Aleric cursed himself as he stood in the sunken tub and thoroughly washed between his legs to make sure no dried slick remained.
Whores were easy. He went into the house and selected one. Usually a man, but occasionally a woman since he liked both. After a short exchange to find out what they were willing to do, he’d either deny or accept them. Or he’d tell the Madam what he wanted, and she’d pick someone to satisfy his desires.
Whores were paid to satisfy the customer, and if they did a good job, the bigger their tip would be. They didn’t question Aleric since he was one of many customers. They didn’t look him up and down, declare him to be a bottom and a submissive, and get an attitude because he wouldn’t let them up his arse.
He hadn’t bottomed or submitted to a man in years, and he never would again. He’d promised himself and made it a rule. No man was ever going to have that much control over him again.
He’d walked a dangerous line earlier. He could get enough satisfaction from doing the penetrating or being sucked off, and his heat still made the orgasm damn good. It wasn’t the same as having his ass filled and stimulated. It had felt good when Jaime, the uppity bastard, had stuck his fingers in, so he hadn’t wanted it to stop. He’d ended up letting Jaime do what he wanted in that department since he’d still felt in control.
Now that he could think better, he told himself he wasn’t doing that again. What an idiot he was to let it happen just because his dick had been down someone's throat. First, it’d be fingers, and then Jaime would be expecting to stick his cock in Aleric’s ass. He seemed to have guessed that Aleric preferred bottoming.
Jaime was good-looking enough to make it tempting. Since he only topped and never did what he truly desired anymore, he couldn’t say his sex life had been that great. Penetrating just wasn't the same as being penetrated, and before, he'd never considered himself versatile or a switch.
Why did he have to get a man who was a top and not about to roll over at a word? Aleric had almost considered booting him onto the street just to get rid of him, but it was better if Jaime stayed. He was heavily muscled, enough to give Aleric all sorts of filthy thoughts that he shouldn’t be having, and that meant he could fight.
After last month, he needed someone who could be made to stick around. A typical guard was no good. Two of the ones Aleric was sure would be mostly loyal were leaving, and new ones had come in. Hiring one to stay in his rooms would also appear odd.
Jaime had seemed like a stroke of luck. Any man can be paid off, and it was unlikely that a stranger pulled from the street would already be paid off and plotting betrayal.
If he suspected Jaime later, he could deal with him and send him away.
At least a certain someone wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to get in and do anything with a man in the sitting room.
He was combing his hair when he heard Jaime enter the privy room. Both doors to Aleric’s bedroom were locked. It still made him a little uneasy to hear someone in there. Nobody had shared his rooms for a long time since Clementine, and she’d been the only one after a certain incident.
A small tap made him jump, and when he noticed a flash of blue beyond his window, he couldn’t help a small smile. He hurried to open it, and a blue dove on the sill fluttered in and landed on his writing desk.
“Aleric Monet.” The blue dove stuck out a leg. “Take.”
Aleric approached, carefully untied the letter, and sat at his desk to unfold it.
“Reply?” queried the dove.
“Give me a minute,” he muttered so Jaime wouldn't hear. His desk was by the privy room door.
“Reply,” repeated the dove.
“Go occupy yourself. Quietly.”
The dove fluffed himself and turned to flounce across the desk with the air of one who has better things to do. Aleric finally got the letter open. The dove bobbed his head, looked to see what Aleric was doing, and proceeded to peck at a never-fill quill.
Of course, he figured Clementine and her wife were fine, but it was still a relief to see the words and know his childhood friend was safe with her wife.
He’d met Clementine at the age of three when a traveling fair had come to the city, and his parents had taken him. Aleric had spotted a small wooden horse on the ground and picked it up when his parents hadn’t been looking. Clementine had marched over with her pigtails bouncing and a scowl to say it was hers and demand it back.
Finders keepers, losers weepers had been his attitude. She’d pushed him. He’d pushed back. Father had seen him shove the girl and popped him on his bottom with a warning. No future lord was going to push around commoners, literally or figuratively, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to steal a little girl’s toy. Clementine’s Father had hurried over, and Mother had explained what happened and why Clementine was sitting on her butt in the dirt and wailing.
He wasn’t sure who’d later suggested it. She had been allowed to come to the Castle to play with him, and they’d ended up being friends who shared their toys without pushing or shoving. Aleric was pretty sure her Father had been hoping they’d get married one day.
He hadn't planned on his daughter falling in love with their servant when she was much older. Clementine hadn't been permitted to marry a servant, not with the position of future Countess on the line. She only liked women, so he’d helped her to run away with her true love.
If a couple separated for any reason, they weren’t supposed to remarry anyone for four years, but Clementine and Bella had gone far away where no one knew them and married. Aleric was sure the Goddess Elira didn't mind. Their marriage had only been to make it easier to help her run away.
A good deal of the court was made up of cousins who were distantly related by blood or had married in. That didn’t stop them from gossiping, and some thought Aleric had been monstrous to make his wife run away. He couldn’t tell the truth because Clementine’s Father would demand to know where his daughter was, and Aleric wasn’t ruining her peace.
She’d be back one day, and her Father wouldn’t be able to do a thing such as demand that Lord Monet force Clementine to go back to her husband.
Aleric missed her and wished he could say the danger he was in simply to unload it. He hadn't been able to speak of a particular incident before.
Why put the worry on her now? She deserved to be happy with her wife, and it wasn’t her problem.
It was getting late, so he figured he’d write another day. They had doves, and he didn’t need the one who had moved on from the quill to peck at an old book.
“Knock it off,” Aleric whispered and put out a hand for the bird. “What are you? A hen? Peck, peck, peck.”
The dove hopped onto his finger. “Reply?”
“No reply. Go back to where you came from.”
He brought the bird close to his forehead and pictured Clementine in East Forest. The dove had come from her, and he would return. The bird stared at his forehead as he read the fairy’s thoughts. With the image and command, he’d know where to fly.
“Take your time, and don’t rush on the way.” Aleric held his hand out in the direction of the open window, and the dove took off. In a flash of blue feathers, it flitted out and was gone.
Aleric wished he could fly away with no worries or real concerns.
***
Dressed and ready for the day, Aleric entered his sitting room. Jaime was asleep on his stomach with the blanket twisted around him and half on the floor. Since his sleep pants were too tight and not made for someone over a half foot taller with so much muscle, Aleric had an excellent view of his round ass. The kind he’d like to grab if he was on his back with legs spread while getting railed.
Not that he’d ever do that anymore. He hastily left the room and swore at himself. Sometimes, it was tempting to go to a whorehouse and find a man to fill his ass. Even without the kinky stuff he used to love, it’d be a relief to have his brains fucked out for a change.
But even with a whore, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Breaking his rule once would lead to doing it again, along with other things, and he couldn’t risk putting himself in such an unsafe position again.
Some courtiers ate breakfast in their rooms. Father almost always came to the Hall, and he was in his usual chair with his cane hooked over the arm. Morning sunlight flooded through the huge windows to the left, highlighting the silk and trim of the courtier’s clothing. The magic light, which appeared to come from nowhere and was used for cloudy days or evenings, wasn’t on. Once Aleric greeted Father and sat, he told him the news.
“So he’s a slave?” Father frowned while his son selected a piece of toast from a platter on the table. “What’s his name again?”
“Jaime Meyer, and no, he’s not really a slave. I’m paying him.” Aleric had left out the part of Jaime sucking him off last night or how he’d be paid as long as he gave Aleric more blowjobs. Two of their most trusted guards were gone now after decades of service, and he wouldn’t go through the city at night with the others. It’d be easy for a certain someone to pay them off, and he didn’t want a knife in his back.
“You’re not letting him leave. You know how I feel about slaves. It’s the law in Soleil, and I wouldn’t tell the Regent otherwise or question the law his brother made, may Elira rest Jean’s soul. That doesn’t mean I need to approve of the concept or that we need to keep slaves.”
“I’m paying him,” Aleric repeated. “If you thought he was guilty, he would've ended up as a slave. Who knows who would buy him? This was a case where either could be lying. You tend to side with locals. Don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but-”
“If he’d been arrested and brought before you, who would you pick?”
Father couldn’t pretend he didn’t tend to side with locals when neither had proper evidence and it was all based on what either party said. He furrowed his brow and took a sip of his tea. “I don’t like you owning a slave. I didn’t raise you like that.”
“He’s more like an aid. He’ll get a wage, and it’s not like I’ll be beating him. If he is guilty-” Honestly, Aleric didn’t think he was, and he shrugged like he wasn’t sure. “In the future, he’ll hopefully think before he acts so he doesn’t end up as a real slave. Being forced to stay in a Castle for a year is a much better deal than prison or the home of whoever might buy him.”
“Don’t start fooling around with him just because he’s in your rooms a lot.”
Aleric barely held back an eye roll. “I don’t need my Father telling me what to do in private.”
“You shouldn’t be messing around with employees. Remember what happened with the head maid and the other who served here last year?”
“Yes, I remember.” The head maid had been married and started an affair with another servant which had caused a bunch of trouble.
Truly, if Jaime refused to suck him off, Aleric wouldn’t force him or threaten him with money. He’d like to get sucked off at home, and it’d avoid the awkwardness of taking him along if he went to a whorehouse. Guards were one thing. They didn’t stay in Aleric’s room. It was different with a private servant or aid.
Also, asking Jaime to service him put him in control first instead of Jaime possibly later asking if they could mess around. Jaime would be trying to get control if that happened.
Fuck. He’d already tried getting it last night. Being firm and putting one’s foot down didn’t always work with certain people. Jaime was one of those people who didn’t think to take charge or be the dominant one. They just did it because it was who they were.
When Aleric did it in certain situations, he felt like a fake. It worked at whorehouses because whoever had been paid to get in bed with him did what they were told for the money. While Aleric was the future lord, he wasn’t that special. The whore would be with another man the next night or a few hours later.
“Are you bringing him tomorrow when we go hunting?”
“He can come,” said Aleric. Jaime’s presence was more important, and Aleric had an idea to get out of being in the woods where “accidents” might happen.
Even if Jaime knew what was going on, he wouldn’t be able to protect him from everything.
“It’s better than being stuck inside,” Aleric continued as he spread norben on his toasted bread. “If he wants to hunt, he can.”
“Does he know how?”
“I don’t know.”
Allowing Jaime to do something would probably make him happy and more compliant. Maybe he wouldn’t whine about not getting his dick sucked, do his job, accept his pay, and shut up.
“Are you playing chess later?” asked Father. “I put money in the pot for all three of us.”
“I'm playing.”
“You almost got to the end last time. Hopefully, I won't lose the first round.”
Aleric rather envied his Father at times. One of the people he had to worry about was sitting in the Hall with Zacharie at a round table. Father didn’t have to worry much. He should have been worried.
He also should have listened to his oldest son, and it still stung that he’d looked at Aleric and called him a liar. Neither spoke of that time anymore, but the fact remained, and Aleric hadn't forgotten.
No matter what happened in the future, he might as well get used to relying on himself for the most part. Jaime was a tool. A temporary one.
Lord Monet wasn’t a bad Father. In fact, he was a good one. His problem was that he was blind to the faults of people he believed to be good. Unfortunately, that hadn’t applied to Aleric because Zacharie had gotten there first, and the accused had been around and in Father’s good graces before Aleric was even a thought.
Again, like many times before, he wished he’d gone to Father with the evidence when it was fresh and new. He wished he hadn’t allowed shame and fear to close his mouth.
He couldn’t even run and leave it all behind because Father wasn’t safe. If Aleric couldn’t figure something out within a year or two, he might have to take the risk, deal with the problem, and if he was caught, endure the crushing disappointment from Father.