Hallowed Bond (Chronicles of Ylandre Book 2) (4 page)

“He isn’t a patron,
Adda
.”

“But he could be a friend.”

“Not if he remains infatuated with me.”

“Ah, you noticed.”

Dylen snorted. “I’d have to be deaf and blind not to. He told me he’s never met a Deir as beautiful as I. And he keeps staring at me when he thinks I’m not aware. He also blushes quite prettily whenever I address him, even for the most trivial of matters.”

Hirlen laughed. “Many of our guests react likewise when you pay them more than due attention, and they’re mostly full-grown Deira. You can’t fault one as young as Riodan for doing the same.” He eyed his son cannily. “Or is it that you appreciate him far more than you like and wish he didn’t feel as you do?”

Faint color warmed Dylen’s cheeks, a charming effect due to the rarity of its occurrence. “Wherefore indulging in something that is forbidden to the fraternity and might lead to expulsion from its ranks?” he softly said.

His father shook his head. “You know full well that love isn’t forbidden to us; only wedlock.”

“But the first oft leads to the second. And, even if it doesn’t, how can anyone ask it of his partner to look the other way whilst he continues to share himself with others? It’s no wonder marriage is proscribed. It isn’t just to keep us focused on our patrons but also to prevent jealous spouses from wrecking the peace.”

“Not every love is meant to culminate in wedlock,” Hirlen pointed out. “If you do come to know such a love, I’ll be the first to encourage you to leave the fraternity and bind yourself in matrimony. But there is no certitude that it will happen. In which case, I see no reason why you shouldn’t indulge in a romantic interlude now and then. I did and came out the richer for having known the affection and concern of those precious few I called lovers.” Again he regarded his son with keen interest. “Are you so drawn to him that you think he will lead you to the marriage bed?”

This time, Dylen went still. He mutely stared at his father for the longest while. At length he said, “Even were I to desire that, one such as he would hardly want the same thing. A one-night tumble, a brief affair, yes, he might propose either arrangement to a
hethar
. But wedlock? Our profession, even if I leave it, will likely get in the way given that I have entertained many Deira he will eventually associate with and even bedded a fair number of them.”

“And that’s your real fear,” Hirlen mused. “You’re afraid to fall in love with someone to whom your past might prove an obstacle too great to overcome.”

Dylen shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? If love comes a-looking, it will find me. I’ll just have to cope with the consequences the best I can.” He warned Hirlen of Riodan’s return with a slight tilt of his head. “Nonetheless, it’s good to get that off my chest,
Adda
,” he said as he rose to his feet. “Thank you for knowing me so well.”

Hirlen smiled. He glanced up at Riodan who looked from him to Dylen with equal parts curiosity and wariness.

He’s naïve but not obtuse
, Hirlen thought. Aloud he said, “You might as well make inquiries at the University, Riodan. No sense waiting until the start of second term and risking all the student slots being filled.”

“Yes, I’ll do that,” Riodan replied. “Thank you, Teris-
dyhar
.”

Hirlen’s eyebrows rose at his use of the high honorific. “To what does this humble commoner owe such esteem?”

“You opened your home to me, a stranger in need, and took me under your wing,”

Riodan earnestly explained. “You are noble in heart if not in blood, and I count that the more worthy of praise.”

Dylen averted his eyes, but Hirlen espied the gleam of pleasure in them. Hirlen inwardly sighed.

And what will my gallant Dylen be to you, Riodan Leyhar? A mere bed treat as he
fears? Or a true desire?

Chapter Three

Progression

Three months, Dylen thought as he readied himself for his next guest. Three months and still Riodan Leyhar remained with them. He had started second term at the State University but, as expected, there were no vacancies among the decent student lodgings in the city this time of the year. And so, the young Sidonan continued to make the Teris abode his home. And Dylen’s bedchamber his quarters.

Riodan had persuaded Dylen to return to his room and declared himself happy with the divan beneath the window, claiming it was as comfortable as any bed. Dylen had given in, but suspected it wasn’t just his room that Riodan wished to share.

He strove to put the thought out of his mind. He suspected, but he had no concrete proof, that his roommate wanted more than friendship between them. Indeed, his misgivings might very well be merely a reflection of his own mixed feelings about the situation rather than anything Riodan truly felt about him. Better to focus on his duties than engage in speculation.

Dylen chose a subtly aromatic soap from the Seralye’s collection and stepped into a bath stall. He thoroughly scrubbed his body, ridding himself of all signs of the just concluded encounter with his second guest of the evening. It was deemed highly unprofessional to present one’s self to a guest still smelling of another Deir’s scent. That was the province of the bawds whose lot it was to take on as many partners as they could in any given day and therefore did not waste much time washing away the evidence of each tumble. When Dylen headed for the reception room a quarter of an hour later, he looked as if he had just arrived for the night.

The guest who’d requested his company was seated on the couch before the fire, speaking to Keon. The secretary straightened when he saw Dylen. Excusing himself, he went to the
hethar
.

“This is his first time here,” he murmured. “He’s much younger than your usual guests.”

“So long as he’s of age,” Dylen replied. “He specifically asked for me?”

“Most insistently in fact. He said if you weren’t available he would come back another day.”

“Did he? Interesting.”

Curving his mouth into a welcoming smile, Dylen approached the Deir. About to speak, he hesitated when he got a closer look at his guest. There was something familiar about him. The Deir suddenly turned his fair head.

Dylen’s eyebrows all but flew upwards. “What are you doing here?” he asked somewhat warily as Riodan rose to his feet and faced him.

Riodan grinned and said, “I watched Molave’s latest play and realized your club was nearby. So I thought to pay you a visit.”

Dylen stared at him, a little taken aback not so much by the unexpected visit as by Riodan’s appearance. He had helped the other Deir put together a wardrobe sufficient for

his needs. But he had not seen him attired for an evening out until now. Clad in a black dress tunic over a silky white shirt, dark grey long breeches and fine leather boots, Riodan looked stunning to say the least and more sophisticated than Dylen knew him to be.

He firmly suppressed his reaction to the other’s beauty. “Rio, we’re not allowed personal visits during working hours.”

“Oh, I paid for the pleasure of your company,” Riodan airily answered.

“So I was told. I hope you mean that in the strictest sense of the term.”

Riodan flashed him a sweet, entreating smile. “Don’t be angry, Dy. I only offered when I found out that visitors weren’t permitted.”

Dylen sighed. “Very well, you might as well get your money’s worth.” Before ushering Riodan to one of the parlors, he spoke to Keon. “Have refreshments brought to the blue parlor.”

Keon glanced at Riodan who was gazing quite avidly at Dylen. “Should I have one of the bedchambers readied?” he softly inquired.

“He isn’t a patron,” Dylen pointed out. “Zarael hasn’t vetted him yet.”

The secretary snorted. “As if he needs to if you vouch for him.”

Dylen shook his head, “Just the refreshments, Keon. No more, no less.”

Keon shrugged. “As you wish.”

As soon as the attendant who brought in the refreshments left the parlor, Dylen settled himself on the couch beside Riodan. He served his friend wine and spiced haronuts. There were also crisp vegetable fritters, slivers of fried boar meat with the rind left on, and raw shellfish drizzled with a piquant herb sauce. Riodan appreciatively tasted each dish, his dark eyes gleaming with pleasure at the toothsome delicacies. Dylen had to smile at his guileless demeanor.

“So, did you watch the play alone?” he asked after taking a sip of his wine.

“Nay, Ithan came with me.”

Dylen frowned. Riodan had made the acquaintance of a number of schoolmates since he started at the University but none he yet counted as close friends. Save perhaps for Ithan Soleri. He was the only one Riodan had introduced to Dylen, and the meeting had not been intended but came by way of a chance encounter on the street. Ithan was only a few months older than Riodan and was studying to be a banker like his sire. He did not share many classes with the young Sidonan. Still, Riodan spent more time in Ithan’s company than any of his other schoolmates.

“I hope you always maintain some caution with him,” Dylen warned.

Riodan leaned back, his expression one of amusement. “He’s never made an overture of any kind. I think you’re mistaken about him.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve seen that look in his eyes many a time amongst the Seralye’s guests.”

“Well, even if he does feel some attraction toward me, it won’t matter if he knows I don’t feel likewise toward him.”

“But does he know? Have you made it clear that all you desire is friendship?”

“I’ve never given him any indication that I wish for more.”

“Which could easily be construed as mere hesitation to go one step further,” Dylen

countered. “Ithan didn’t strike me as particularly sensitive to subtlety.”

Riodan looked at him disbelievingly. “And you picked all that up in the span of one short meeting.”

Dylen hesitated, unsure how to explain the source of his misgivings about Ithan without revealing too much. He liked Riodan and thought him a trustworthy person, but there were certain secrets he did not feel comfortable sharing with anyone other than his father. Perhaps he would eventually tell Riodan, but now was not yet the time.

“One short meeting with any guest can spell the difference between a pleasant evening and a harrowing one,” he finally said. “I just want you to be prudent.”

“I am! Really, you shouldn’t worry so about me.” Riodan pouted. “Besides, I’m not that much younger than you.”

“In years,” Dylen agreed. “But, in experience, there’s much I have seen that I hope you never will.”

“I thought your club master protected you,” Riodan gibed.

“Zarael does his best,” Dylen shot back a shade reproachfully. “He’s very careful but even he can be fooled by a kind demeanor now and then. Not every guest I’ve entertained proved as benevolent as they looked.”

“You’re not saying… “ Riodan paled. “Veres! Have you been—?”

Dylen placed a reassuring hand on Riodan’s arm. “Nay, though I’ve come close enough times to make me wary of new guests. And I know
hethare
who weren’t so lucky, rare as those cases have been. Rape is not limited in place or victims.”

Riodan shuddered slightly, probably remembering his own brush with the possibility his first night in town. “I’m glad you’ve never been hurt that way,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry for making light of your situation.”

Dylen gestured dismissively. He poured them both more wine. They spent the next few minutes in light conversation while finishing off the shellfish.

At length, Riodan regarded Dylen curiously and asked, “Do you ever have guests who change their minds and decide they want to sleep with you as well?”

The abrupt shift of topic surprised Dylen, but he answered nonetheless. “Of course, but only patrons of long standing may avail of that privilege.”

“Only?” Riodan repeated skeptically. “What if an important Deir wishes to sample this club’s more personal services? Like a Herun for example. Or the Ardan himself.

Would Zarael dare reject them?”

Dylen shrugged. “It hasn’t come to that yet. At least, not since I started here. But I imagine Zarael would make an exception for Rohyr Essendri if he deigned to grace the Seralye with his patronage. It isn’t politic to turn down one’s own king.”

“And what of guests you already know and can vouch for?”

Dylen keenly looked at him. “Like yourself?”

Riodan boldly met his gaze. “Perhaps.”

“Would this be your first time?”

“It would. To couple that is. I’m not
that
innocent.”

Given Riodan’s fairly sheltered upbringing, Dylen was not surprised when the youth admitted most of his previous forays into carnality had been with Deira as inexperienced as he or with household servants who were only too willing to accommodate the heir of the house.

“I know it matters little to others, but
I
don’t care to tup folk in my family’s service,”

Riodan said. “It’s simply not meet. And I don’t dare entrust myself to others who know little more about rutting than I do. I should think that would only prove disastrous; maybe even put me off the whole business for life!”

“But surely you know Deira who are seasoned lovers,” Dylen pointed out.

“Well, of course, but I can hardly accept their invitations to warm their beds if I don’t trust their motives, now can I?”

Dylen could not disagree. “You could have paid for the experience,” he murmured.

“Quite a number do.”

“You mean prostitutes?” Riodan snorted. “Call me maudlin, but I’m too much of a romantic to want my very first bedding to be a mere transaction. I want an emotional connection at the very least, Dy.” He leaned back, smiling wryly. “So there you are. I’ve never gone further than let others use their hands or mouth on me. I dare say it’s quite satisfying, but I don’t like how it leaves me feeling, well, discontented. Here.” He pressed his fist to his breast.

“So you want me to teach you more,” Dylen cautiously said.

Riodan grinned. “I want you to teach me everything.”

Dylen frowned. “Why, Rio? Why would you want your first bedding to be with someone like me?”