Chapter Twelve
Nemiah
Nemiah adjusted his impossible hardness one last time before entering the hall with his most imperious expression. Wary gazes cast about as Virion patted his hair into place and followed with pink cheeks and a crooked collar. With a gentle gesture, Nemiah leaned over and flipped it into place with a lingering touch that soothed not only Virion but the anticipatory people congregating. Taking his mate aside for council wouldn’t have been a pleasant thing for his father.
Virion, either showing off or oblivious to the gesture, brushed fingertips laden with magic about his hair to tuck errant strands into place. Well-earned envious glances and whispers followed them as Nemiah strode to the stage above the gallery, where the thrones had been pushed aside to display the covered Telecons.
The music died down and Nemiah drew Virion to stand with him, the sweet male keeping his gaze drawn and hesitant, as if he were merely for show. So integral he’d been… Nemiah wondered if he didn’t know.
Attention and murmurs focused on the stage and wandering bodies drew in, whispers of anticipation petering out as Nemiah took Virion’s hand and grinned. “I suppose you all have wondered what these obelisks of obfuscation are!”
A murmur of agreement passed through before Nemiah couldn’t help the grin that split his face with an unfamiliar stretch. “For months, I’ve been hard at work developing faster ways of communication and trade. At our far corner of the world, we are disadvantaged. We’re the last to hear of news, the first to lose profit on trade. Our goods are short-lived.”
Agreement simmered among the gazes of dusk, day, and night fae alike as Nemiah gestured for Virion to pull the sheets free. Obediently, he turned and did so, almost as if he was grateful to no longer face the gawking crowd.
“The thalmway comes! King Alluin of Liaberos has entered an agreement with us. We have blood ties to thrive! And within a year’s time, our swords shall be hammered into rail, and no soldier will be forced to part from his family for more than a few weeks at a time. Such will be afforded us the world to travel!” Nemiah folded his hands behind his back, the rustle of sheets and hesitant step of his husband a constant heed at the back of his mind.
A soft wave of clapping a tad more enthusiastic than polite passed through the crowd. So many of them stood to profit. So many soldiers would come home with work and coin. Bored soldiers were the bane of a kingdom.
“And so my union with Virion was arranged, and he came to me with brilliance in him!” Nemiah caught Virion as he returned and pulled him in. “For I’ve been working on my latest, a means of communication by thalm, messages in minutes to nations as far away as Croatens!”
Gasps passed about.
“But words and letters will only satisfy you so much. Letters take weeks and months, the passing of seasons gone before a war-torn wife can receive her husband’s missive!” Nemiah reveled in the gentle sensation of the male next to him tensing. “And tirelessly I worked for letters alone until Virion laid his hands upon my work and mind, imparting upon me great knowledge and designs to do so much more. Your Silver Prince has given us telethalmic conversation, a way to speak to one nations away, as if they were no farther than whispering in your ear!”
Nemiah glanced to the side and reveled in the wide-eyed wonder of his mate, unaccustomed to being praised so highly, or likely even credited. The pinkness in his cheeks from lust returned brighter than before, and Nemiah might have assumed it to be shyness alone, save for how his pretty pink eyes lingered on him.
“My new son-in-law is so very smart and talented. In mere hours, he solved what took my son months as if it were nothing. As the kingdom well knows, I spare no praise for my son, and my new son is no different. I feel he has come to brighten our lives and prospects.” Queen Kiara stared at the machines as she glanced from one to the other. “Two minds are better than one.”
Murmurs passed about as Nemiah invited a few people at a time to come test the machines.
They whirred with life, the thalmic static in the air trembling as voices went from one machine to the next with tinny relay. The sound quality could be improved over time, Nemiah was certain. The technology was new, in its infancy, but this was not the thalmway. This needed no rail, only a larger generator to project.
Tears in eyes brightened as people spoke of being able to speak to long-distant children and lovers in different nations for a time. Business consorts and daughters sent off to marry well.
One woman had only just learned her daughter carried a child almost a year ago but had only received the letter announcing her first grandson’s birth a week ago. She longed to hear her daughter’s voice, to visit her once. Nemiah wondered if Virion would have anyone he missed enough to call or visit. Nemiah had assumed, at first, that he would.
Since their ceremony, he wasn’t so sure.
“My husband has yet to see what I’ve done with his design with his own eyes. I invite him to take the other Telecon.” Nemiah cleared the area and Virion approached the station uneasily.
The design was intuitive, a lever flipped to connect that would initiate reception and projection on his end. He flipped it and Nemiah approached his, engaging his lever.
“Is it how you envisioned?” Nemiah spoke into the receiver.
From the angle Nemiah stood, he couldn’t see Virion’s face, but the words came through clear, if a little like it were from a bucket…which may or may not have been one of the resonance components.
“You’ve executed it as I imagined. Did you change anything? It’s so much better than I pictured.” Virion’s posture shifted and hands wandered, as if exploring the device.
“Only the materials for a few things I didn’t have at my disposal. The bearing idea I had to swap for a needle on a tympanum because the ball bearings I had didn’t want to carry sound as crisply.” Nemiah quieted to give Virion a chance to interject.
“I probably should have specified that the bearings I was referring to were glass, but this works superbly!” Virion’s breathy voice sounded so distant but achingly sweet.
“I see. They’d rattle much easier…” Nemiah sighed happily. “They can all see how great you are, my husband.”
“You’ve already got me in your bed this eve. Why do you still insist on seducing me?”
“Oh, I’ve only begun to seduce you, my sweetest Sugarmoth.”
Virion laughed, the sound so sweet. “Oh, I will flock to your sweetness and nestle amid your blossoms to drink of you and take your pollen.”
Nemiah, for the first time since he was a very young boy, felt his cheeks light aflame. He pulled back, clearing his throat. “Yes. I see. I think the demonstration is over.” Nemiah flipped the switch and pulled back.
Polite chuckles spread about, and Nemiah plucked his pocket square free to daub at his cheeks to cool the sensation.
“Young love,” someone cooed, their voice a whisper, countered with a soft, “It’s a political arrangement.”
The first voice rebutted. “The fates have made worse choices. Our king smiles for him.”
Nemiah wanted to wipe the grin from his face, adapt his dour attitude once more. Instinct told him that sweet fondness he held for Virion was a weakness someone would exploit. But let them try . Nemiah pushed his urges back. The mere thought of having Virion threatened made his wings itch within his soul and horns throb with magic. “I think we all can agree that the moon has made what appears to be a wise choice.”
Nemiah’s voice cracked, but when Virion’s demure face met his own with a knowing purse of his lips, there was no need to posture. He swept Virion into one arm to his side, tilted his head down to touch their horns, and brush their lips in a chaste kiss. Every fiber of their beings hummed with need.
“So it seems.” Virion shuddered against Nemiah and pulled his face away, inches shy of kissing distance. “We will make many beautiful things together.”
Nemiah knew they would. Children aside, Virion would continue to bless Nemiah with bountiful magic and brilliant thought. “Or you will, and I’ll be witness and facilitator.”
Virion’s lovely face fell as Nemiah pulled away. The impassive stare of someone who bit their tongue fell back into place, and he stood back as many approached to ask questions and receive answers as to when units could go into production. Nemiah had those answers, but Virion could only stand to the side and nod politely, offering a curt smile as his mother flitted about and soothed nerves, directing people to his page to take notes and make appointments. Dealing with people en masse wasn’t Nemiah’s forte, but he was strategic at redirecting people.
Each passing second and polite conversation dragged on as the wine wore thin. Not that they didn’t have more in reserves, but the amount of wine designated for a party was a polite way of indicating when guests should go their separate ways.
Someone pressed a cup into Virion’s hands and he smiled graciously, brushing off the male’s attention with a demure nod. Nemiah bristled but immediately soothed his temper when Virion turned those pretty eyes of his to him and smiled before taking a sip.
Drink faster, dammit! There was far more wine left than patience, and Nemiah buried down his own frustrations into the pit of his soul.
“Dear, should I have an attendant go fetch an extra cask?” his mother’s needling voice made his hackles rise. The male that’d given Virion a drink leered and attempted to brush a finger over his shoulder.
“No!” Nemiah’s snarl escaped his mouth before his mind could temper it. Whatever expression tore his face apart made Kiara whimper.
The flare came with a pulse of his magic and to his utter dismay, she flinched away from him and Virion jumped, startling the suitor away. “I-I only spoke in jest.”
Distracted from his anger at the tactless guest, Nemiah refocused on his stricken mother.
“Mother! I—Virion.” Nemiah glanced between the two. Of them, Virion had recovered from the snap, but the fear quickened in his mother’s eyes, much like it often did when his father was in one of his moods. “I’m not angry. I am okay. You’re okay, Mother. Would you like me to get your handmaid and go for a lie down?”
“I—I think I’ll be okay. I—” Kiara couldn’t look him in the eyes and Virion, as if sensing something was the matter, stepped in.
“How about we go step out for a stroll, Mother ? The wine is strong and we could use some fresh air.” Virion smiled and guided Kiara away as her face melted into a model of relief. Expression understanding and polite, he bid a few men and ladies farewell as they retreated. And if Nemiah scented sunderleaf later on, he’d say nothing of it.
Unable to comfort his mother, Nemiah took a deep breath and assured those closest who’d witnessed his snap that it was merely a knee-jerk reaction and entirely to blame on a lack of sleep and the newness of his mating bond.
Soothed, they went back to the soiree, trickling out one by one as the wine told them they’d stayed their welcome. Though, no sign of Virion’s admirer remained other than the half-consumed glass. He finished it with a hard swallow.
Nemiah sagged when he saw the last of the guests out, putting those staying at the palace into the capable hands of attendants. After, finding his mother and mate would be the highest priority.
He strode his way from the ballroom as attendants swept in to take glasses and goblets. Patisserie had been largely left untouched, as the mood had faded when everyone was nibbling a little before departure. And with Virion and Kiara having left as it was being served, Nemiah found it prudent to carry a few plates with him as a peace offering.
Walking down the hall, Nemiah mulled the words over in his head, one foot in front of the other. He needed to apologize to his mother, soothe her nerves, and make peace with his mate if not eventually harsh and unrelenting love. Like. He’d make harsh and unrelenting like . Love was too sure of a word to speak to the male, yet.
He loved Virion. He was beautiful in mind, heart and body. He comforted Kiara when Nemiah couldn’t. They complemented one another, and perhaps the goddess knew that with Nemiah’s flaws, a partner would need to have unending patience, a modicum of determination, and accustom themselves to a lack of forthright affection.
Perhaps Nemiah could rectify that last one.
His mind snapped from the thoughts when the sweet scent of his mate and sunderleaf ensnared him.
At the end of their dwelling hall, two doors swung open at the behest of the standing guards, allowing Nemiah in.
Amid the quiet of the hall runner, the hush of voices—more than Virion and his mother—met his ears. The nymphs and her personal handmaid. And surprisingly, there was no sunderleaf, but the fact that Nemiah brought extras figuring they’d be giving into the temptation of hunger it sometimes caused meant he had enough for everyone and looked that much more the better.
He approached his mother’s quarters, the door ajar, but he dared not enter without a soft knock. He tapped with his foot, the steel toe of his boot enough to catch their attention with a polite rap.
Nyem, his mother’s maid, popped her head free. The steel in her long locks hung loose and flowing, a sign of her age. She’d been with Kiara since she was little, born in the Dusklands, herself. “Pri—King.” Her acknowledgement came out dry and flat.
“I bring peace offerings. I apologize for my outburst. It was a knee-jerk reaction.” Nemiah bowed his head.
She hummed under her breath and frowned. “Your father was good at that, lashing out and showering your mother as an apology.”
“I spoke tersely and loudly. I broke my peace and for that I apologize. I am not asking to be forgiven. I want everyone to know it slipped and I am better than that. And that I happen to have their desserts with me, so be it.” Nemiah offered her his best smile that seemed to appease her with a grunt of approval.
“I’d have you on your knees, but you might drop the cake.” She opened the door fully, drawing the bright room into view.
His mom sat on a lounge, eyes glassine with the threat of tears unshed. Virion sat beside her, brushing her hair, feet crossed under him as he tended her.
“Isn’t that Nyem’s duty?” Nemiah sat the plates down and seated himself in an empty chair, earning a glare from the nymphs floating nearby.
“If she needed her hair combed, likely, but I wanted to do this. I did it for my sister often when she was little to make her feel better.” Virion brushed through her hair a few more times, fawning over the steely locks. Rather unlike his own, reminding him of their unshared blood. The fierce black hair was a preference of hers and his father’s and it gave them a bond. It was easier to pretend she was his birth parent and not the omega his father had ensnared.
“Does it make you feel better, Mother?” Nemiah glanced toward the sweets.
“I think so.” Her voice came forth weakly.
“I do apologize, Mother.” Nemiah bowed his head.
“I shouldn’t have teased you. I overreacted a bit.” She canted her gaze toward Virion, who nodded sagely.
“But not without understandable reason. We’re calm, taking deep breaths, and we’re happy. And there’s dessert!” Virion tucked her hair behind a neatly pointed ear.
“Thank you.” Kiara patted Virion’s knee. “You’re forgiven, Nemiah. You have your father’s reactivity and none of his venom, but it is so hard not to still see him at times. Virion was an excellent help.”
“Had I heard what you said, I’d have been shouting with him. I’m quite anxious to see if our Nemiah has cold feet or snores.” Virion glanced over and winked. Watching him there with Kiara, soothing her so naturally, made Nemiah’s heart swell.
“Both, I’m afraid,” Nemiah said. He nodded sagely, allowing his mask to lower for a moment and pull at the corner of his mouth in what he’d been told was an attractive smirk.
Virion stared at him for far too long of a moment before glancing up and down, taking in his body in a blatant display. “Eh, you look worth it.”
Heat flushed through the tips of Nemiah’s ears, and giggles spread among the nymphs.
“I think the mood is ruined. I apologize.” Nemiah sighed and slumped back in his seat, jolting when Virion crawled over his mother’s lap, onto his lounge, and sat on the arm next to him, proffering a bite of dessert on the end of a slender fork.
Taking the gesture for what it was, a peace offering, Nemiah leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the end of the fork, drawing the sweetness of winterberry tart into his mouth. “I take it you do not see me as a monster?”
“A very small monster.” Virion gave a curt nod and before Nemiah could protest, forced another bite into his mouth.
“I beg to differ.” Nemiah sniffed. “I’m an enormous—”
“Horse’s ass.” Ivy floated by, her misty eyes full of ire and amusement.
Virion and Kiara laughed heartily, and their smiles returned. Dessert in private company was always far better than that of those silly events.
“Question, aren’t you worried someone will steal your ideas when you show them off like that?” Virion canted his head.
“And if they do? They start industry, provide jobs, bring taxes in, and the kingdom profits anyway. I’ve never had it happen before as they all know since I use tax moneys to research that my finds are available for lease to those who can show talent and make agreement. I charge a nominal fee.” Nemiah grinned. “And I don’t allow merchants to have exclusivities.”
“Yet you gave my father one.” Virion took a quick bite.
“For Liaberos, where I have no control, yes. He still needs my cars and designs to run them. Very few have access to both mechathalmists and artisans and blacksteel. It’s a lot of coordination to achieve for someone interested in cheating people. What industry would last long that way?” Nemiah grinned and Virion’s face fell.
“Father makes sure his dearest rodents prosper.” Virion sniffed but still offered a bite, even if much smaller.
Nemiah took the opportunity to steal the fork and take another bite for himself. “A means to an end, I’m afraid.”
“Much like me?” Virion’s face didn’t hold any ire.
“If you weren’t so likeable, I’d agree with you. We’d still be making arrangements to agree upon what I’d need to do to keep you comfortable and obtain an heir so we could each go our ways and find acceptable lovers for one another.” Nemiah went to steal another bite and found Virion holding the plate away.
“You’d allow that?” Virion wrinkled his lips as if he found the idea distasteful, and something about that made Nemiah’s heart warm.
Kiara snorted. “That’s what most nobles do, dear. Moon knows that I’ve had my fair share of dalliances and Behran had an appetite. Get your heir and move on.” She made a halfhearted gesture. “It’s expected.”
Virion averted his gaze and jolted when Nemiah stole the last bite of tart, gasping with indignance.
Nemiah grinned and lost himself in those mock-furious eyes until he blinked in surprise, the nymphs leaving.