Chapter Six
Nemiah
Putting up with Alluin had been the bane of his evening, second only to his simpering beta son and arrogant daughter. The whole deal had come off like buying a below-standard thoroughbred steed.
Having declared the exchange complete, the king and his children were escorted to their rooms in the guest wing where his overzealous guards stood vigil in preparation for their morning retreat. Nemiah’s own guard had politely offered to increase his security, but there was a certain amount of pride in knowing that his usual guard was more than plenty for anything the Liaberians might have planned.
Nemiah had his dessert put aside for him for later. A couple’s wedding cake was supposed to be a lively affair, but Nemiah had sent his new mate away. His mere proximity had Nemiah’s nerves on edge, and a possessive urgency rose within him. Their united souls cried out for intimacy that he didn’t take when he had the opportunity. He’d never forgive himself if he’d taken him like that. A couple’s first union should have been private and based on love. Whatever they shared before wasn’t it.
Nemiah straightened his garments and strode the long way toward his wing. The creak of a dining cart down a servant corridor piqued his attention, and he dismissed the noise for what it was, servants. As vital to his life as the guards that opened the entryway to his wing. He nodded to them. No formalities were exchanged or needless bowing. Nemiah had his elevated position by principle of birth alone. And certainly it came with a good line of blood that had contributed to more powerful magic and harder standards that came with education the likes of which no other was expected to attain, but that didn’t mean he had to demean those he relied on.
When the first whiff of sunderleaf hit his nostrils, he knew right away that his mother had found good company with his mate. “Mother? Virion?”
Light giggles came from behind Virion’s bedroom door, and he knocked twice before Kiara opened the door for them with a glassy-eyed smile. “Nemiah! Come, your mate is an absolute treat! I was just about to head on to bed, my boy.” She reached up and patted Nemiah’s cheek sweetly.
“Alright, Mother. Will you be staying for dessert?” He resisted all urge to roll his eyes. The gesture had been stricken from him by his overbearing father.
“No, dear. Spend some time with your mate.” She leaned up for a brief hug and whispered in his ear. “I’m proud of you.”
Nemiah nodded once and eyed her carefully as she whisked her way down the hall with far more energy and levity than she’d had in a long while. Perhaps Virion would be less of a burden than he’d expected. Especially if their bond was as strong as it appeared. Stranger things had happened than an arranged marriage being favored by the goddess. But that’s what it appeared.
Vir glanced at Nemiah when Kiara slipped away, and he thought better about closing the door, not wanting to trap him. The pleasant warmth in his cheeks and soft smile froze, and Nemiah found himself deeply unhappy when it faded. “My Lord.”
“Nemiah, or perhaps you’ll fancy an affectation in time. I know I will eventually find one I favor for you.” My little rabbit and Sugarmoth.
He turned his head, and the color in his cheeks returned. Perhaps shame or maybe interest. Nemiah had never been particularly great at telling any one emotion apart from another, especially when it came to love and kindness.
“I—” Vir quieted when the dessert cart rolled up, and Nemiah stepped to the side to allow their cake to be brought in. Partially carved already, against tradition, but the top portion had been left untouched.
“I wasn’t sure what flavors you favored when I had the cake ordered. One side is birch syrup and the other side is rhine nut. I had planned to ask and turn the cake right when the time cam—”
“Birch syrup!” That lovely smile brightened Virion’s face before he flushed with embarrassment and folded in on himself. “My L—Nemiah.”
Nemiah nodded solemnly as he dismissed the servant, eying the neatly placed cake, forks, and plates. “I appreciate your effort. It cannot be easy for you, I imagine. It has to be harrowing.”
Keeping his tone neutral felt like an important thing, not to scare his little rabbit. “It was not pleasant, I’ll admit.”
“I apologize for the consummation.” Nemiah quieted when Virion’s cheeks pinkened.
“I understand. You didn’t want to. It’s alright.”
“In time, perhaps?” Nemiah’s careful tone did little to bring the light back into his mate’s eyes. Though why he cared, he wasn’t certain. They didn’t know one another, nor was Virion in any mental space to copulate after the shameful purification and eventual farce of consummation. In general, the male seemed starved of affection.
Virion shrugged and sat up straighter when Nemiah carved the confection and offered him the preferred birch syrup cake. Nemiah took a little of both, being a fan of mixing the dark bitterness of rhine nut and the sweetness of birch syrup. “I hear that birch is not a favored flavor among the Liaberians.”
Virion froze, indecisive, as his eyes darted from Nemiah to his plate. “I—I suppose my tastes are a little exotic. I can tame that down! I—I don’t have to have such expensive things!”
Timid little rabbit. Nemiah shook his head lightly. “Your tastes are actually more common in our lands. We are a drab people but make up for it in flavor. It’s no harsh expense.”
“Really?” Some of the light returned to his gaze. “I suppose that’s one of the plus sides. I am fond of the clothes left for me.”
“I’m fond of them, too.” Nemiah caught his eyes lingering and tore his gaze away. “I was very pleased to hear you were fond of being male. I had other options at the ready, of course, but the girls were delighted to have you.”
Virion didn’t meet his gaze again, taking another bite of cake. He suddenly seemed very small, shrinking in on himself.
“I hated to send you away from the table tonight, you know?” Nemiah cleared his throat and put his fork down and waited for Virion to glance up.
“I was rude. I’m s—”
Nemiah couldn’t resist reaching over, hooking a finger under Virion’s chin. “Do not apologize. You were not sent away for any perceived rudeness. You were sent away because of your father’s behavior. His customs when it comes to you are frankly annoying to witness, at best.”
Virion glanced up and fleetingly met Nemiah’s gaze. “So you have different rules and customs I must follow?”
“We do. None of which involves my mate being anything less than my own status. One does not breed a thoroughbred mare to a plow horse for a stud. Insinuating you are anything less is a crime. You are a light in the dark, my Silver Prince.”
With a swipe of his fork across the dessert plate, Virion paused, his face a mask of something far away. “Why is everything so dark and gloomy here?”
Nemiah, caught off guard by the sudden drop in Virion’s mood again, his will as soft as the wings of the sugarmoth, blinked at the question. “Blacksteel. It comes from a tempered iron in our soil. Our fibers they grow with black hues naturally in them. Only by dyeing them further with sun or gemstone do we get any hue to them at all. It’s in our soil. Even our skin has adapted to the amount of iron over so many generations. We have to import bright things.”
Virion’s mouth formed a soft O, posture tensing just the slightest as that telltale break in composure washed over his face. “That should have been obvious.”
“I won’t hold that trivial oversight over you, but I do have questions for you, if you don’t mind.” Nemiah took a bite of cake and eyed the rest on the plate. Dinner had soured in his belly a little, but away from Alluin and his obnoxious children, Virion aside, but his mate spurred on a fantastic appetite.
Raising his head, Virion blinked in surprise. “If it’s mine to answer.”
“Your father said you measured at six thalms.” Nemiah pushed a few crumbs around on his plate.
Instead of answering, agreeing, or refuting in some way, Virion visibly schooled his expression. The fleeting bits of emotion settled over his cool-toned features. Pale lashes lowered, not in flirtation but in embarrassment. “He did say that.” Mimicking Nemiah’s gesture, Virion pushed crumbs over his plate with a gentle scrape.
“But he’s wrong. Very wrong.” Nemiah leaned in his chair, the gentle creak of steel beneath the padding a welcome break in the silence. As he’d requested earlier, a thalmeter had been set on a lower shelf of the cart, and his nails traced the crystalline surface of an orb seated in a special frame of ornate brass, the bronzed hues blacked with age. A cap seated top and bottom, framed in with two handles, one on each side. “But you already know that, don’t you?” He handed the device over.
“I do. I am unsure as to why my father said that number.” With a little twist of his lips, a tempered sort of pride flashed in his eyes. Virion grabbed the handles and let the numbers flash across the screen. And had it not been for Nemiah’s excessive and relentless training to school his emotions, he might have gasped. “Three score.”
“And two, it appears.” Nemiah met Virion’s eyes and the exchange between them simmered. “I appreciate the modesty. Would appreciate honesty, more. Why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps he felt slighted that my score was above even his own? Perhaps my tutors lied to him to make my siblings look better? Or he had some underlying intention to make me less appealing to you? Honestly, I haven’t hidden anything from you, but my best guess would be that they told him and he refused to listen. My father hasn’t ever had the best opinions of me.” Virion shrugged.
Nemiah took the device away from his newly mated husband and put it back on the cart. The clack and rattle filled the silence of the cold guest room. He made a note to tell the girls to set a nice fire in the hearth, to warm it for Virion, or perhaps to take the beautiful creature to the hot springs. The image of it in Nemiah’s mind brought about thoughts of the male’s warm thighs, the plushness of his rear, and a crashing coldness when he recalled the witnesses. His cock, middling with interest, deflated to a comfortable flaccidity at the recollection. “No, he doesn’t, does he? But I will not hide you away.”
“Rubbing me in my father’s face? Not wanting to appear weak?” Virion sniffed, his voice going reedy and soft. “Goddesses know you don’t want me.”
With all the training he’d had to lock his emotions away, that one small comment broke his composure. “Don’t pretend to know what I want.” Nemiah dropped his fork and schooled his reaction. “I’m not sure what gave you that impression.”
Narrow shoulders rose in a halfhearted shrug. The soft expression faltered to one of anger and resignation. “After the kiss… Then you wouldn’t consummate… You didn’t want me.”
“Pouting doesn’t befit you. But no. I didn’t want to fornicate with you in front of people!” Nemiah reached for his fork once more, hand shaking as practiced composure wore thin. Unfortunately, Nemiah had his father’s patience at times, and he had to school himself hard to realize his anger was a mere flash of impulse that, like any other emotion, needed careful control. “We’re very compatible and I’d rather like to cement our ties organically. When you’re ready and you want it and not panicking under threat of your father banishing you.”
“Banishing me? Whatever for?” That caught Virion’s attention. “His greatest threat had been to give me to the conservatory for passing up too many suitors.”
Nemiah raised a brow. “Because you were not a virgin.”
“That’s not really much of a secret… Why was it a problem?” A sudden twist of Virion’s features brought color to his cheeks. “But never with an alpha, of course.”
“Yet another mystery, I suppose…” Nemiah drew a hand over his face and froze. “Oh, good goddess!”
With a start, Virion fumbled his fork. “I-is that a problem though?”
Nemiah scoffed. “Not at all. I am so sorry.”
“That’s why you told…” Virion’s soft face went even more vividly pink.
“As if I regularly inform my lovers I’d make them bleed for pleasure.” Nemiah rubbed at his face once more and sighed. “We are off to a fantastic start for the rest of our lives. Was Mother polite to you at least?”
That comment broke Virion’s composure. “I don’t think that woman has a polite bone in her body.”
Nemiah’s stern features ticked, brow cramping with uncertainty. “Pardon?”
“Your mother was a delight! I apologize if I came off as rude. I appreciated her honesty and the sunderleaf. I’m not one for drink and it was pleasant. She made me feel more at ease with joining your castle.” He met Nemiah’s eyes once more, cheeks aflame. “Thank you for sparing me.”
“It’s of no consequence. I suppose we’ll cross that proverbial bridge when it needs to happen.” Nemiah took another bite of cake and savored the flavors, much like he’d savor Virion in time. The pale cream of the frosting would match nothing to his mate’s spend. “Isn’t there tradition for us to exchange a bite of cake?”
Virion glanced from his plate to Nemiah, eyes dipping to what was presumably his lips to linger.
“Here. Try some of my rhine nut.” Nemiah scooped a small forkful up and leaned over, cupping the tines.
Virion met him with a gentle lean in, small pink lips parting as he swiped the bite of cake away with a flick of his tongue. Before Virion could pull away, Nemiah stifled a predatory growl, wanting to hunt his mate. Truly, his little rabbit.
So, when Nemiah pulled his fork away and opened his mouth, he drew in the sweet birch syrup cake with tongue and lips far less skillful, tasting not the floral sweetness but that metallic tang of a flavor he’d only learned of hours ago. Virion’s lips. That growl curled in his throat as he took the bite, and Virion didn’t shy away, pink eyes flicking up to meet his own. “Birch syrup is good, right?”
But you taste so much better. Nemiah savored the taste and swallowed. “It is. But I think I’ll be taking my leave. Would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow? Far less company to entertain. I cannot promise my mother won’t barge in, but she appears to like you.”
Virion set his fork down and blinked, taken aback as Nemiah stood and gathered the dishes. Eyes widening, he stood with a flurry of hands, helping him put the dishes back on the cart. “Of course. Didn’t see you as the sort to clear your own table.”
Nemiah hesitated, as he’d always cleaned up after himself unless there was an event of some sort. It never occurred to Nemiah to make enemies of his staff when he could do a little for himself. As a servant to his people, it was his job to study, learn, and provide a future for his people. His support staff was there to facilitate his success, to keep him at ease, not to lavish him in luxury. Luxury that Virion would have been accustomed to.
Reaching a hand out, Nemiah grasped Virion’s wrist gently. “Please. Allow me. You’ll learn our customs in time. Dishes go on the cart and to the hall and the staff will take it away. If you’re in the dining hall, you can carry it back to the kitchens. I prefer my staff to be my friends, not my employees.”
The smile Virion returned was strained at best, pinching the corners of his lips as Nemiah moved the plates away. Leaning in, Nemiah had the fleeting urge to kiss him, but the tremble in Virion’s lower lip combined with his wide, prey-like eyes made Nemiah draw back.
“Goodnight, my husband.” Nemiah brushed his fingers gently over Virion’s wrist as he pulled away. “I hope that one day we come to know one another so well that your father eats his own crown.”