Chapter Eleven
Virion
Everyone in the castle had treated Virion like some fragile thing for days as Nemiah locked himself in his laboratory. Every day in the castle grew a little lonelier, even with Kiara inserting herself into Virion’s moments of self-pity.
“I’m sure he’ll be out sooner or later,” she said. Virion peered up from the shipping manifests he’d been poring over for days. “But then again, he does obsess. He is his father’s son, in some ways.”
Virion put the stack of papers in his hands down and stood. “If he’s not going to come to me or come out, then I suppose I will have to come to him. Think he’d appreciate me bringing something to eat?”
“Kitchen staff is home for the evening. Perhaps a cup of tea? Knock first because he gets testy when someone comes into his laboratory without permission.” She sighed and pulled a sliver of parchment out. “And do give him this note, please.”
Virion nodded and took the paper. Apparently, his first event with Nemiah was soon enough, all the more reason to spend a few moments with his husband.
He strode to the kitchen and rustled through the cabinets for bread and meat. Not finding what he was looking for, he went through the kitchen and assembled a sandwich out of what he could find. Cheese and vegetables seemed readily available enough, as did a kettle of water and a tin of tea.
Despite Virion not being very familiar with doing things for himself, out of necessity he’d learned to fend for himself a little, as the amount of times his father had forbid him from attending dinners had necessitated some degree of feeding himself.
Armed with food and tea, he strode toward Nemiah’s lab and put the tray in one hand before knocking. Hearing no answer, he tried the handle and found it unlocked. He opened the door and frowned. Nemiah had fallen asleep amid his work, snoozing gently.
Asleep, he seemed so harmless, his soft lips parted, his breaths a light hiss of air. He didn’t seem nearly the threatening king he was when he stood tall. The sight made Virion wonder if maybe he should let the male sleep…until he glanced over the pile of papers before him and saw the complicated mass of calculations and designs for the Telecon he’d proposed only a few days before.
Virion’s cheeks went hot as he gently unfolded crumpled papers and sorted the slices of parchment into three piles. Necessary, unnecessary, and incorrect. He organized the necessary documents and studied them for a few minutes. Not all of them were designs or notes, but a few had mentions of Virion’s thoughts and vague wonders of what they could accomplish together. Even so, he’d gotten so needlessly complicated with the idea that he’d not even thought about how sound traveled. The waves made sound. A transducer should have been able to just elevate frequency to vibration and transmit sound almost instantaneously. He timidly plucked a pen from Nemiah’s table and wrote out his thoughts, laying it with the corrected papers and topped it with his mother’s note.
Knowing he shouldn’t wake Nemiah, Virion leaned down and kissed his temple, whispering on his way up. “You are as frustrating as you are interesting, but I may yet grow to love you.”
No male had ever taken Virion’s thoughts into consideration, seen him as something other than a hole to fuck. Nemiah had taken his word seriously, had believed him, and sought to show him how much he thought of his mind.
Nemiah had a reputation of being as cold as his father, and his temper had yet to be witnessed, but Virion had a growing sensation as he peered out a lonely window on his way back to the study that the goddess moon looked down upon him. The face of it, intense and sallow, brought an emotion to his heart—one he wasn’t familiar with. Infatuation. If he didn’t get to bed his mate soon, he might have to take matters into his own hand so to speak. He couldn’t even jerk off with the nymphs around, and it was driving him stir-crazy.
***
Nemiah slept for almost two days after his sequestration, which Kiara assured him was a common occurrence. It did nothing to quell Virion’s rising libido or his desire to spend time with his husband.
“Hold still, Virion. I need to get your eye makeup right!” Artemis fussed as she licked her thumb and rubbed under his eye to erase the lamp black she’d painted. “Or is this too feminine for you? It’s the current style for omega males.”
“No, I’m fine with a little eye makeup. I can’t sit still.” Virion kept his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling while she attacked his lashes with the black as well.
They’d previously dyed his brows when he lived in Liaberos and among the Drashil, it was no different. The frame of his eyes needed to be lined and made visible to not wash his features out. “You’ve such beautiful aspects. A shame to waste them on Nemiah’s likes.”
“Would that it was wasted ? He’s not paid me a minute’s heed since the baths near a week ago.” Virion’s eyes watered from the lamp black, and he flicked his gaze upward and gave a fleeting blink so as not to smear the work.
“I think he’s found something he’s excited over. Once this project is done, he’ll rejoin polite society until the next interesting thing comes along.” Clover rolled her eyes as she draped cloth over shoulders and patted powder over Virion’s chin after her needless plucking. He’d never managed to grow but the odd hair before, but he was so pale none could tell. Perfection was the image of a Blessed Prince .
“The least he could have done was greeted me, even once?” Virion sneered as Ivy swatted his shoulder.
“Straighten up and smile. You’ve done well this week.” Ivy shoved him by the shoulders as Queen Kiara came by, peering into the bedroom as Virion slipped into his shoes.
“Is Nemiah here with you yet?”
“Of course not.” Virion sighed and marched past her, halting a few feet from his door. Nemiah turned the corner and halted, eyes wide but face impassive. “Found him.”
“Husband. Mother.” Nemiah frowned and rolled his shoulders, letting his horns push free before approaching Virion with his eyes nearly aglow. “Show your mark.” Nemiah palmed the side of his face, fingers warm and inviting. It’d feel even better cupping his balls and stroking his d—
“Come, you two, no flirtations before business. You can dillydally later.” Kiara broke them apart and waved the nymphs off as she led them away. Not for the first time, Virion felt tired and childish, made even worse by his desire to pout and ignore the tall, dark, and handsome moon prince.
“I wasn’t dillydallying, Mother.” Nemiah sighed and took Virion by his elbow.
“Not yet, you aren’t.” She glanced Nemiah up and down with a curt frown and shooed them off, flicking Virion’s horns as he went by. The unpleasant reverberation made him wince and hiss.
When they reached the grand hall, where last Virion had gone when he was wed to Nemiah, it had been changed significantly, decorated more for ballroom affairs than it was for a wedding.
“King Nemiah of Drashil,” a caller announced as Virion lowered his head and attempted to step back. Instead, soft hands pushed him forward and Nemiah hooked his arm. “Prince Consort Virion.”
The title hit him harder than a slap would have, acknowledging him as not a Blessed Prince, nor omega, but the partner to their king. He almost stumbled as they announced Queen Kiara. Her demure nod accepted the announcement amid the eyes of many people, mingled dusk, moon, and sun. A testament to the mixed nature of the kingdom.
Nemiah’s gaze turned politely to the stage, drawing Virion’s attention to two posts covered in a dark sheet, hiding them from view. Virion, for his part, still reeled at his announcement until Nemiah’s impassive expression turned shrewd and amused.
Almost flirtatiously, he took Virion’s hand and guided him into the crowd, his smile far too genial and calm for what he’d done to him. So many days spent ignoring him was grounds for a tantrum if anything ever was, not that he’d ever been successful with them in Liaberos. He held his tongue and smiled, though, as Nemiah swept him about, introducing him to lords and ladies, as well as the occasional merchant.
It was far different from what they did in his home kingdom, ignoring merchants and lower nobility, keeping attentions directed toward the upper echelon so that the lower thirsted for a moment of attention. But Nemiah was not that way. Everyone held his gaze with equal grace.
As much as Virion wanted to ignore the male and be surly, he held a little more respect for him by the day.
Walking through the crowd, Virion dipped his head as people smiled at him, giving them a genial smile in return. Distracted by a female noble of some variety, Virion accepted a polite compliment and jumped when a hand circled his waist and gently pulled him away.
“Come, husband. We’ve strategic mingling to do.” Nemiah’s flat voice held a note of endearment that he should have shown in the days prior.
“I do apologize. I have not been given the opportunity to learn your cues, my lor—” Virion said, his voice a sharp whisper halted when Nemiah’s hand tightened on his waist.
“Need I remind you my name? I will accept your ire at a later date, but now is not the time to test me. Do you understand?” Nemiah bared a hint of fang and turned his head back with a seamless transition to an almost smile. He shook the hand of a passing merchant and listened dutifully when the man tried to pitch his wares.
It was neither the time nor place, but Nemiah handled it genially. “I’m a little short on time this evening, but please do reach out to my page, Reimun. He’s wearing the gold crest and is by the north entrance. Do tell him I give you high priority. I’ve heard good things about your produce of late.”
As the merchant strode away, excitement bright in his eyes, Virion cut his gaze sharply. “From who, exactly? Have you been speaking to many people, or am I the only one that has been deprived of you?”
“Such a tongue you have this evening.” Nemiah’s grip tightened for a fraction of a second before loosening.
“It’s not had anywhere to go.” Virion sniffed and turned his attention elsewhere, his voice low as he offered a sweet smile to a well-wishing woman that strode by.
“Between your teeth is an excellent start, my husband.” Nemiah’s scathing low tones did something strange to Virion, making his stomach flop and cock twitch with interest.
“Like your maleness?” Virion cut his gaze to Nemiah as he raised a single brow.
“Assumptive little rabbit, are you not? You’re not making way in convincing me to put my maleness anywhere near your lips.” Nemiah’s low rumble held a note of amusement.
Virion schooled his reaction, keeping his gaze cool. Those dark sclera of his were so encompassing, the blue in the irises electric. “Once I hit my fertile time, we’ll see how long that resolve of yours lasts.”
Nemiah had a goal in mind, wandering the crowd with smiles and genial waves. “I have excellent self-control.”
“I noticed. It’s infuriating when I’m attempting to seduce my husband and he rejects and avoids me at every turn.” Virion sighed and the surrounding lights changed, the sound of the crowd dimming as they strode out onto a terrace into the dark of the evening. Two guards followed them and swept the area before retreating, drawing Virion’s gaze for a second before Nemiah pushed Virion against cold brick and lowered his head, letting their horns clack with a gentle motion.
The hand on his waist pinned him by his hip to the wall. Sharp rock edges from the hewn form of it cradled him, the only buffer his husband’s fingers as metal rings ground into stone with a light creak. “I don’t reject you because I do not want you. I reject you because it shouldn’t be your duty to do so. Do you understand?”
Virion’s cock traitorously pulsed, thickening against his Nemiah’s pressure, their bodies sidling against one another. A gentle press of Nemiah’s warm thigh sidled between Virion’s legs and it was everything he could do to stifle a moan. The soft breath that broke free of his lips danced over Nemiah’s as he dipped down to capture him into a lingering kiss. One far sweeter than the fierce ones they’d shared.
“M-my duty is to provide you an heir. D-didn’t say I c-couldn’t have fun in the process.” Virion lost the battle and whimpered against Nemiah’s lips.
“Why?” Nemiah brushed his lips over Virion’s cheek and to his ear, nipping slightly.
“Is it so hard to believe I find you endearing and attractive, my husband?”
“I’ve not given you much time to fall for me.” Nemiah nipped his sharp teeth onto the soft lobe of Virion’s ear, making his cock pulse.
“What reason have you given me to hate you? You gave me companions on my first night. You spared me indignities. You saw my ideas and thought them worthwhile. You value me. Why would I not want to?” Virion’s voice muffled out amid Nemiah’s lips wandering to his neck, nipping almost affectionately.
“You’d forgive me for locking myself away? Just like that?” Nemiah suckled a spot, his tongue lapping at the place apologetically after, so as not to leave a mark.
“Not without some apologies. Preferably on your knees.” Virion’s voice came out a little shriller than he intended.
“I think that can be ar—” Nemiah’s head jerked at the shift of door panels aside them, Queen Kiara striding out with an imperious glance. “Mother…”
Nemiah didn’t pull away, his grip still tight on Virion’s hip, a gentle hardness pushing in with a hopeful pulse that almost immediately softened.
“As much as I look forward to being a grandmother, could you please control yourself for another hour or so? The music numbers dwindle and people are ever so excited to hear what you have to say.” She flicked an amused glance to meet Virion’s eyes. His disappointment must have been evident judging by her sharp smirk. “I’ll give you two a moment to calm down.” She turned and closed the doors behind her, an amused tone tilting her voice as she made some snide comment about the two seeking council.
“Is that what we’re calling this? An apology?” Virion sagged a little as Nemiah pulled back and straightened his clothing.
“Clover!” Nemiah paid his quip no mind before turning about until the vision of pink floated out of some side window and onto the balcony with an amused smirk.
“Nemiah. Virion.” She nodded to each of them as that impish light danced in her pale eyes.
“Virion will sleep in my chambers tonight. See to it that things are prepared for his rest.” Nemiah’s face remained impassive, but Virion’s heart stuttered with elation, his lulling erection giving a hopeful twitch before he willed it away.
“Does our contracted agree to said arrangement?” Clover glanced to Virion, head canted.
“Contracted? Me? Oh. Yes. I do agree. Please. It is only right that… It’s only—I wish to share a bed with my husband. Tonight, at least. If he wills it, too.”
Clover shrugged and smiled before floating off, the leaves and flowers of her clothing always a single breeze away from total indecency. “As it is requested, so shall we listen. Sisters!” Clover dove off the terrace and floated down to what must have been Virion’s window and slipped into the narrow panel with impossible grace.
“There. Do try to be in better spirits, my husband.” Nemiah offered a flat smile, one that held far more mirth than it implied by the gleam in his eyes alone.