Chapter Eight
Ghreid
Sitting at the estate’s dining table, watching food being brought to him plate by plate, evoked a sense of pride in him.
He could provide for his mate. He could show the male opulence and fulfill his every desire.
He wanted to cover his mate in jewels and gold.
So many things came over him, and he barely had the wherewithal to write his brothers.
He tapped his quill on the table and scanned his parchment, eyes raking every letter.
To Mezerath, he sent a message of reassurance that the cleanup had been initiated and things were going well.
To his brothers as a whole, he sent word that he’d found his mate, and would need to have a meeting with Rath sooner or later to plan a wedding.
Though, perhaps he was ahead of himself.
Then the letter to Lapryda, wherein he iterated the need for his expertise in a vessel he’d removed a lead cask of some rare silk.
If it was what Varis had insisted, it was worth the trip for Lapryda…
but then again, it was best to control when Lapryda arrived.
Since Ghreid found his mate… Lapryda would show up even unwanted.
As he finalized his last message, he signaled an attendant to ride back to the capital and settled back in his seat to stare at the crocks of food still covered and steaming. His stomach growled, but it would be rude to eat before his mate arrived.
“If you’re going to sit there brooding, would you at least peruse a plan I had for a dump site?” Rydel placed a few sheets of paper before Ghreid, and he flicked through a few pages.
“Map, please?” Ghreid turned another page, reading the plans for smoke mitigation, construction of an incinerating kiln with recycling plans on making charcoal and fuel.
The process was familiar to Ghreid, but that was more of something Envi would be better at.
Still, turning trash into a source of treasure was something Ghreid excelled at.
“What’s the plan for the charcoal you’re going to process here?”
“To pay for the operation. It should employ a good number of people fairly.” Rydel turned a page over for him and pointed at a plan where the charcoal would be sold as a cheaper heating source.
Attractive pieces would be packaged and sold as needed, prime pieces to wealthier households as a premium.
Anything less than ideal would be distributed to the poor and indigent.
And beyond that, employees would be given a ration and a percentage of profit as a theft deterrent.
“Interesting.” Ghreid tapped the page. “Make sure the employees elect representation among them—excluding overseers. They will have quarterly meetings with myself to report worker conditions.”
“Yes, sir.” Rydel took a page and sketched in a note.
“Okay, and when Envi gets here, have him review the process?”
“Have you received missive he’s coming?” Rydel blinked in surprise.
“I’ve found my mate.” Ghreid glanced at Rydel, who nodded in understanding.
“They will be sooner than later, then. I shall make sure we stay ready for company.” Rydel sighed.
“Lapryda will be here first.” Ghreid huffed and perked up when the lone steps of an unfamiliar person met his ears. Ghreid knew every employee’s gait by heart, so the unfamiliar steps drew his gaze like no other—and Ghreid was smitten all over again.
Clean, combed hair pinned back and dressed in fine clothes, he looked all the part of royalty, a prize of a consort with a dazzling smile.
“You look so much better.” Ghreid stood when the male walked in, and Rydel made to send letters off and take paperwork away.
A muttered apology and a quiet promise to have things sent off made Ghreid put his full attention on Varis.
A step then two, drew him toward the warm-skinned male.
Eyes like copper coins shone at Ghreid with glittering interest, but he wasn’t full and healthy, and Ghreid’s desire to care for him interrupted their union.
The two of them met for a brief moment, their hands reaching out, fingertips brushing. Ghreid cleared his throat. “Was the bath to your liking? The clothes?”
“Far different than what I’m accustomed to from home, but they are nice clothes.
I assume they suit the weather more.” Varis turned, glancing down his body as if to show off.
With a tail and beautiful horns he’d be sure to have one day, he’d be even more gorgeous—and what scales he’d have was even more of a wonder—but it was clear by the way he moved and how at peace he’d been on those ships, that his element was water.
Ghreid glanced him over with a smile and took his hand once more to guide him to the table. “I’m unsure of what you like, so I kept things simple. There’s roasted potatoes, chicken, a pudding, and a salad. Fresh fruit will be served—they’re still cutting it.”
“Oh gods, you’re amazing, Lord Dragon.” Varis, holding Ghreid hand, took a seat and sat up, letting the dragon push him in as if he’d been educated in higher society.
And when he waited for the attendant to come by and uncover the dishes, he waved them off in favor of the salad, first. “Is it custom for one to start with a main course or salad? I forget the Monsmountian customs. In Kaliman, we start dinner with salad to prepare the stomach.”
“Monsmountian custom is to pretend vegetables do not exist. Saurian custom is to pair the salad in the meal as it best complements the dishes. Often times before, sometimes after. If salad is presented with the main course, it is acceptable to consume.” Ghreid offered a sweet smile before sitting across from Varis, partaking of salad as well.
“I’ll spare you the details of how I know this. ”
Varis frowned. “I had been sailing a few years before we were stranded. I met my fair share of men who spent far too much time on the aft and believed vegetables were what you fed to food, not food itself.”
Ghreid nodded sagely. “Well, you are well-versed in manners of Baltheir, then.”
Varis choked on a morsel, the rich pulp of a tomato wetting his lips. “All the civilized world beside Monsmount knows of the dung lord! And they have temples to it.”
Ghreid shivered and held himself still as Varis chuckled, the sound a beautiful thing. “Well, in the former port of Monsmount, now a Saurian independent territory, there will be no Baltheir. Only dragons who will carry their messages to the gods themselves.”
“You really believe that?” Varis raised a beautiful brow. He’d shaven them somehow, sculpted the shape of them to his face—so beautiful.
“The gods spoke to us not two nights ago. They gave us a dream together, calling us to become one.” Ghreid couldn’t bear to take another bite.
“I’d like to become one for real, soon.” Varis took another bite with relish. “I long for sweetness. I look to be filled and filled again.”
“Your name, it has meaning in a way to the common tongue. Varis, avarice—” Ghreid busied himself with a bite as Varis nodded. “And in Kaliman?”
“Nothing as ominous, I’m afraid. It’s a name passed down in my family. Something of the sun god, his hand. Loosely translated, it means generosity.” Varis sat his fork down before gesturing his hand, another tell that Varis came from high society, as one did not point their fork at another.
“And what family is this?” Ghreid busied himself with his salad.
“We’re the third Rashiz.” Varis took the last bite of his salad before gesturing toward the tureen of chicken and leaned away as the attendant took his plate, replacing it with another for the main course.
“Ah, that makes sense. You’re well spoken, your manners are refined, and you are a gracious counterpart.
The fates and gods have chosen well.” Ghreid sighed and smiled.
He knew a little of Kaliman royalty. He was an upper noble, removed from the crown by a generation, a second son of a second son. “I am truly lucky.”
That halted Varis in place, and the color in him drained slightly as he spoke shaking words. “I hold no station. Bearing my marks means I am an offering to Alim. He demands those marked by the heavens be given back to them as ashes. This is why we are ashen.”
Ghreid’s stomach clenched, and the utensil in his hand mangled with an ominous creak. “You were meant to be a sacrifice?”
Varis nodded. “It is why I was afraid to come back to shore. Why I held to the cargo. I sought sanctuary so I was not sent back.”
“You have your sanctuary in my heart. None will take you. I am far more powerful than the orders of extradition of a nation that has no alliances with Sauria. The bridge is burned, already, so no need to tend the ashes.” Ghreid sat back as an attendant served him and poured a generous glass of his favorite wine, offering some to Varis, who declined.
“That’s refreshing. And is the wine not to your liking?”
“Wine is one thing that often survived a shipwreck. I’ve had my fair share.
” Varis offered a half smile before nibbling away at his dinner.
Ghreid followed suit, picking at pieces as anxiety twisted his belly.
To learn that Kaliman had been sacrificing ashen was a crime that needed to be rectified.
Soon. If not by way of treatise, by way of spies.
“And I prefer to have my wits about me when I engage in coitals.”
Ghreid stared at his glass for a moment, swilled it once, and took a sip. “Takes a lot more than sweet wine to put me off.”
“Liquid courage?” Varis raised a brow.
“Liquid fire.” Ghreid offered a grin that had the ache of fang in it.
“That has to burn your throat, Lord Dragon.” Varis offered a smile.
“It could no more burn me than you, my beautiful ashen. And once you taste the moon and my promise, fire will no longer oppose you. Though, I suspect you may find it difficult to control.” Ghreid offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Control?” Varis put his fork down once more, swallowing a bite he hadn’t chewed fully.