by Dara Joy
The next day, he acted as if it had never happened. In all the time they were together, he never once mentioned the incident to her. River hid his personal horrors.
Brushing her fingertips gently over his forehead, she smoothed back a few locks of hair that had fallen over his face. The color always reminded her of golden sunlight on heliotrope, the only Origin plant ever to take root directly on Forus soil.
His lashes flickered at her touch. Instantly alert, he snapped his lids open.
He stiffened slightly as he always did when awakened suddenly, but relaxed when he recognized Green. Deep forest-green eyes focused on her with genuine fondness.
"Green... " The smooth voice rolled sleepily from his throat. "It's been so long, I thought you'd forgotten me."
Green smiled easily. "Who could forget you, River?" She sat down next to his hip. He rose up on his elbows, bending toward her for a kiss.
Green placed her fingers against his mouth, stopping his forward motion. "We need to talk."
He did not even blink, but something in his eyes changed. A shield dropped down over them, shuttering their depths. "Of course. Would you like a cool drink? I have some limo juice in the library."
Green nodded.
River lithely rose and headed for the double doors that led to the library. His motions would have seemed perfectly fluid to any other observer, but not to her. Green had a gift for reading people. The slight hesitation in his step as well as the tightly curved fist of his right hand told her that he already knew what she had come to say.
He must be used to this, she realized sadly. How must this be for him?
Green decided to follow him indoors. River strolled over to a side table and poured her a tall glass of the sweet-tart juice. He handed it to her, then walked over to the opposite windows, which looked down on the busy thoroughfare below.
He gazed through the sheer curtains to the street and waited. A pulse ticked in his throat.
"I'm afraid I must end our agreement. River." Green spoke softly.
River closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. "Give me a moment."
Green gave him that time, remaining silent.
Pain and fear hit River together. How could he start over again? He was twenty-eight years old. Too old. He was well past the prime age for a special secluded pleasurer.
He could not go back to the way it had been before! He could never make himself do it. He had no more to give. Nothing. I will die inside. He took several silent breaths to steady himself.
When he could speak, his voice was dry and slightly rough. "I had heard of the Reynard bid, of course. The whole town is talking of it."
He wondered what it would be like to know your ancestresses and to have someone think so much of you and your name that they would inscribe it to their family scroll. His name had always been worthless. It was only his body that had any value to the Slice.
Green nodded. Kloobroth spread quickly among the pleasurers, who usually had plenty of time on their hands between visits from their patronas. They often met in the courtyards to discuss snippets they had heard from their lovers.
River cleared his throat. This was very hard. A plea-surer could not afford to have pride. Especially not a twenty-eight-year-old pleasurer. "Many, that is, most of the other patronas are fastened, Green. I would not be a distraction for you, or interfere in any way with that. I can still be here for you when you need me. This need not change our arrangement."
Green sighed. "I'm afraid it does. What you say is true; the practice is an acceptable one to the Slice—but not to me. I could never do that to Jorlan; I would not feel right about it. It is not my way."
River was not surprised by her answer. Her code was one of the things he admired about her. She had turned his whole life around. He was incredibly grateful to her, and perhaps more. He watched a young spark dash around the corner to enter the back door of a house. The scene was so familiar that ice pooled in his stomach. He swallowed. "Have you no feelings for me at all, Green?"
"Of course I do... just not those kinds of feelings."
River turned and stared at her. "Is it because he can give you a veil and I cannot?"
"You know me better than that."
He looked at her inquiringly.
"Jorlan is remarkable to me; there is something about him that sings to my spirit."
Incredibly, his eyes filled with moisture. He turned from her.
Green rushed up to him, placing her hand on his arm. "It is not as if you love me. River."
He swallowed again to regain his composure. "I could have loved you."
"It is not meant to be. I am sorry... "
He knew that was true. Well, what did he expect from her? She was a Marquelle and he was nothing but a pleasurer whose favors were sold to the highest bidder. He could not be unfair to her. She had been more than kind to him. She had saved his life and was never less than honest with him. Whatever happened in the future, he must make his own way and not blame her. She had kept him in the lap of luxury for several years, denying him nothing. And she had been so sweet at night...
He gazed down at her and smiled poignantly. "I know that. Green. And I want to thank you for... everything. If you hadn't come along, I would have been passed from woman to woman among the Slice."
She lightly grazed his forearm with her hand. "You did what you had to do to survive. I always understood that."
His gaze shifted away from her. "There were many more than I ever allowed you to think."
She was not surprised. His stunning looks and the lack of the protection of a title would have made him fair game for the aristocracy.
"You must find someone rich and of a good nature, perhaps a childless, older woman, who can give you the protection of a moderate title in return for an heir. You will be well taken care of and she might even come to dote on you to distraction," Green winked at him, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
River laughed. "And how am I to secure this miracle? Have you forgotten my lack of a certain, shall we say, item, that would be required for the Ritual of Proof? Not to mention my complete lack of family name?"
Green wagged her finger at him. Reaching into her pouch she extracted a passage chit and a letter, which she handed to him.
"What is this?" he asked hoarsely.
"The letter is an introduction by Marquelle Damus, which states that you are a distant cousin of hers." River gave her a disbelieving look. Green shrugged nonchalantly. "The Marquelle owed me a favor. The travel chit is to take you out to the farthest colonies west." Far away from Claudine D'anbere. "It is an untamed land, barely civilized, but I somehow think it might suit you. The colonists are mostly plantation owners. Men of good breeding are in low quantity because of the rough conditions. The planters will not be so particular about the likes of veils. They will not look into your story too deeply. Simply stick to the tale and you will be greeted with open arms." She wagged her brows at him. "Literally."
A huge grin spread across his artistic features, lighting his entire face. His expression contained the ray of hope. This was the first time Green had ever seen him show such unguarded emotion, and it transformed him.
"You will have to wait until the end of the Season to begin your travel, as it is too dangerous this time of year for such a journey. And be careful whom you choose; don't give yourself too easily. Make them all work for you. I predict you will have them all slavering over you. Lead them on a fine chase!"
"Ha! That would be sweet recompense, wouldn't it? What a delightful prospect!"
Green chuckled.
His face became serious. "I cannot thank you enough, Marquelle Tamryn. You do not know what this means to me."
"I think I do."
River took his final look of the woman before him. The incredible woman who had shared his bed for many years. She was unusually strong, intelligent, and compassionate. She had her own inner sense of justice and always lived her life on her own terms, with an uncommon wisdom. It
would not surprise him if she was named the head of the Septibunal one day. He cupped her soft cheek tenderly. "Don't teach him everything you've taught me. You might shock his aristocratic sensibilities beyond repair."
Green snorted. "I think with you it was the other way around. River."
He gave her an intent look. "One more time?"
She shook her head reluctantly.
"You really do care for him."
She inclined her head and turned to leave.
"I hope he appreciates what he is getting," he murmured as Green let herself out.
At that very moment, at Tamryn House, Jorlan was being dragged to the Marquelle's chamber to await the fastening ceremony.
He had already blackened the eyes of the three male servants who had been assigned to serve him.
He squared his shoulders as he sought a way to escape directly after the vows were spoken.
Marquelle Tamryn would have no fastening night!
When Green approached her estate, she was astounded to see the number of tethered Kloo and coaches littering the drive. It was so cluttered that servants were dashing here and there trying to find places to lead the Kloo to. The coops were obviously full to brimming by the disapproving squawks coming from that direction.
It seemed that the Top Slice had taken it upon themselves to issue their own invitations to what was supposed to have been a private event!
Disheartened at the commotion, Green decided to enter her estate by using a secret portal around the back of the house. She was sure the poor servants were frantic trying to accommodate all of these unexpected guests, and because it was the Select Quarter, they were bound to be extremely demanding.
As she took the backstairs, she idly wondered how many were attempting to stay the night. Gossip was the Slice's lifeblood and for a certainty they were slavering to see how Jorlan was going to react on the morrow.
Green's mouth firmed. No one was staying. If she had to throw them all out personally, she would! Regardless of how rude it seemed.
Their life together was not going to be mack-mock for the salacious appetite of the Slice!
She slipped into a darkened hallway, moving surreptitiously to a back door, which led to her chamber. She was grateful to see Avatar waiting for her there.
"I thought you'd show up back here, what with that spectacle down below."
Green stormed over to her wardrobe, yanking out a plain white robe. As she yanked off her clothes, she let Avatar know exactly how she felt about their guests' prurient interest. "Filthy voyeurs, the lot of them! If I had wanted witnesses, I would have asked for them!"
"True enough, girl, but you got them just the same. And they'll be expecting a fine show of it, too."
"Well, they're not getting it!" Naked, Green dipped into her bubble-pool, letting the warm water lap up to her chin. It was traditional to bathe before the ceremony in front of a witness—in this case, Avatar. She would have to dip under the water three times to cleanse her spirit for the union. Likewise, she assumed that Jorlan was also being bathed in front of a witness.
A crashing sound from the next chamber—which sounded suspiciously like a body being hurled against the wall—made her jump.
"By the Founder! What in the blazes is that?"
Avatar chuckled. "I'd say it's your demure soon-to-be name-bearer. He doesn't take kindly to being told what to do, and he likes even less anyone assisting him in the matter. He's already done considerable damage to three servants. You're going to have trouble with that one. I hope you know what you're doing."
Avatar had not been happy with her choice of name-bearer. She had groused on, constantly asking Green if she had lost her mind, if she was sure she knew what she was doing, and did she realize that the veil had a reputation for being extremely difficult?
Green had smiled patiently and replied yes, yes, and, again, yes.
"I really think you secretly admire my choice, Avatar. Be honest: You like the fire he shows. It appeals to your tribal spirit." Avatar's people had originally hailed from the far southern tribes whose origin ancestresses were in the NEOFEM's maintenance division. It was only in the last three hundred years that that branch of tribes had been incorporated back into OneNation.
Avatar harrumphed. Although Green did see the slightest smile grace her stern features.
Green ducked her head beneath the water again.
"One more time and that'll do it, Marquelle. Roseen has prepared the bed straps. Made them extra strong. We all know you'll be needing them that way," Avatar said pointedly, referring to Jorlan's reluctance.
"Mmm," Green dunked down, coming up with a splash. "That's three, Avatar." She flung her wet hair out of her eyes and grumbled, "I have no idea where that ridiculous custom came from!"
Avatar chuckled. "Who knows why people do the things they do? All I know is that it's a ritual and that's that."
Green made a face as she exited the water. Another crash-bump came from next door.
Avatar snickered. "It appears your loving name-bearer really does not like that custom."
"It's probably more that he doesn't like being assisted to it." Green chuckled with her.
Once out of the bath, Avatar helped Green dry her long hair with the bristles of a newi plant. The small appendage branches were snapped off the mother plant. The spiny bristles were highly effective moisture extractors and were used for a variety of household applications.
Next, Green donned the white semisheer robe traditionally used in fastening ceremonies. The robe had a very special sash tied around it. Her family sash, which had been used by the Tamryns for generations.
"You look lovely, Green." Avatar theatrically dabbed at a tear at the corner of her eye.
Green frowned over her shoulder as she went out the door. "You can stop the overly sentimental act, Avatar, it does not suit you at all."
Avatar grinned broadly, not in the least repentant. Even though she questioned Green's choice of name-bearer, she could not contain her genuine happiness on her fastening day.
Green marched down the stairs to the formal room, a determined stride to her step. The room was a sea of people.
Jorlan had already been brought down. He awaited her in the center of the room.
Green's lips curled with amusement as she realized that his hair was still damp and slightly dripping onto his black shirt. The aqua eyes narrowed at her in icy defiance. Apparently all they could get was his head dunked underwater. He still wore the same clothes he had on at the Ritual of Proof.
She snorted. Ah, Jorlan, what am I to do with you?
The noise level of the crowd increased markedly at her appearance. Half of the guests she did not even recognize. Discreetly, she motioned to her majordoma, Mathers. The staunch white-haired woman, who had been with her family for as long as she could remember, strode over to her with a forceful gait. The distinct sniff of utter disdain for the rabble of the crowd was obvious on her florid face.
"Where did they all come from?" Green hissed to her.
"I don't know, my Lordene. They seemed to arrive consistently, like a plague of popular sentiment." Mathers was the mistress of droll humor.
"They are not to stay the night. Is that clear, Mathers?"
Mathers's chilling grin spread across her face. "I dare say not, my Lordene."
Green gave her a look. The woman was enjoying her work far too much. She was going to absolutely adore tossing out the rarefied gentry. To confirm her summation, the servant literally rubbed her hands together in glee, and there was a slight gleam in her squinty eyes.
Mathers said simply, "Before or after the ceremonial meal?"
Green bit her lip. "After, I suppose."
Mathers chortled with anticipation.
"Have the kitchens prepared a—"
"Don't worry about that now. We've taken care of everything for you, Marquelle. This is your fastening day, you just enjoy it." '
Green's eyes moistened. Her people were very good to her. She lov
ed them all and would never give them up—not one of them—without the best fight she had in her. And they knew it.
"Thank you, Mathers. Has the Septibunal arrived yet?" As a high-ranking member of the aristocracy, the Septibunal would oversee her fastening rite.
"Yes, Lordene. They are ready to observe the vows. Should warn you, that snip-butt D'anbere is here with them."
Green frowned. "I don't want that woman in my house. Show her out immediately. And please don't refer to her as a snip-butt, Mathers; she is a She-Count."
"Yes, Lordene," Mathers intoned by rote. Both of them knew Green might as well be talking to the wall. Mathers always referred to anyone she did not like as a snip-butt, and that was that.
"You can't remove her, Green." Anya came up beside them. "She is here in an official capacity as a stand-in council member. She must oversee the fastening."
"I have no doubt that she arranged that. Watch her closely, Mathers; under no condition is she to leave the formal room."
"Too late for that, I think." Anya nodded to the grand stairway. Claudine D'anbere was strolling down the stairs from the upper floors and there was a very self-satisfied smirk on her face.
"What do you think the snip-butt was doing up there?" Mathers's beady eyes got beadier.
A small worry-line furrowed Green's brow. "There's no telling."
She sighed. Whatever Claudine had been doing upstairs, she supposed she'd find out soon enough.
"Mathers, just in case, have my room thoroughly searched, especially the bed. She might have placed something between the sheets."
"The snip-butt!" Mathers blustered.
"Warn the servants to be careful, Mathers," Anya cautioned the faithful majordoma. "Being a venomous sort, she might have loosed a coil-winder or something like it."
Mathers nodded gruffly and marched away, intent on making sure her Lordene's chambers were scoured from top to bottom while the ceremony was going on.
"Shall we, my dear?" Anya held her hand out to Green to lead her to the center of the room to begin the fastening. "Or should I say 'daughter'?"