The Clever Fox: Part Three (The Pleasure Hound Series)
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And finally, the Butterfly, where his muse awakened and freed herself from the casings that had bound her her whole life.
“These are simply breathtaking,” the patroness, Lady Jayne, said as she entered the room. “Did you have a model for this?”
Adom had to clear his throat of the truth. “It's from my imagination.”
“You have a very vivid mind, Adom.” Lady Jayne’s finger grazed his shoulder.
Adom stepped to the side beyond her reach. “I’m glad they are to your liking, my lady.”
“It's simply astonishing that a man could make up something like this?” She indicated the Worship painting.
In the painting, a woman with skin the color of almonds stood before a man. Her long black hair cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The man’s face was unseen, only the dark curls at the back of his head were visible as the rest disappeared into the earth. Their torsos blended into one, disappearing into the earth as though they sank into its depths or rose from it. The carnal aspects of oral sex were hidden to common eyes, but they were clear to Adom.
This was the world Adom wanted to live in. A world where a woman opened himself to a man, allowing him to please her, trusting him to take her higher, both of them spreading joy to the earth, making it fertile.
He hadn’t made it up -the crinkle in Alyss’ eyes. The shape of the O of her mouth as she cried out. The tension in her legs as her orgasm took her. He hadn’t imagined Emet gripping her thighs. That glint of possession in his eyes. The hunger that glistened from his tongue.
“And then there’s this one.” Lady Jayne indicated the final picture in the line up.
“It’s a last minute addition,” said Adom. “I know her breasts are apparent, but it's not pornographic. It’s a young woman becoming free, expressing herself and spreading joy into the world.” Women were allowed to paint themselves half nude or fully nude. But when the brush was in a man’s hands it was called lude.
“I don’t think its pornographic, Adom. In fact, I want one done of myself.”
Adom looked around the room, but Geoffri was no longer present. He and Lady Jayne were alone, and she was advancing in words and distance.
“We could get started now while Geoffri hangs your work. I keep a bedroom upstairs for when I work late hours. It looks as though this portrait will take many hours into the night.”
“My lady, though I am flattered by your attentions, only my art is for sale and not anything else.”
“You have principals. I understand.” She looked at the butterfly painting again. “It's just I can’t help but notice this young woman looks so very familiar. She reminds me of Lady Angyla’s daughter. What’s her name?”
Adom stood by, mute.
“Oh yes, Alyss that’s it. Though it couldn’t be Lady Alyss. She’s an unbonded female and the daughter of one of the most powerful women in the city. She would never sit for such an erotic painting.”
She let the words trail off, suggestively. If only she knew what he and Lady Alyss had done together, it would likely make this old cougar blush.
“This work is from my own imagination.” It wasn’t a lie. It was how he’d seen Alyss the moment he bound her hands and hooked her up onto his rig.
Lady Jayne squinted. “But it looks so unlike most of your other work. Look at these lines, and this color palette. It's as though an entirely different artist painted this.”
Lady Jayne’s smile widened to flash shark, white teeth. Beads of sweat pooled at the base of Adom’s neck. What had he been thinking bringing this painting here? He’d wanted to give Alyss a chance to have her work admired by others, to set them both free of their artistic confines. He’d wanted her to see she had true talent that would be seen and appreciated for the great work it was. Instead, he’d placed her before this pariah.
“Its a good thing it's not Lady Angyla’s precious daughter. If it were I’d have to call the Peace Keepers and have you taken away for visual slander against an innocent female.”
Lady Jayne’s grin went even wider. Adom was certain she’d swallow him whole any minute.
“I’ll tell you what,” she sauntered closer. “We’ll keep this painting out of the showing. You can replace it with one of my likeness, which we’ll hang in my home for our eyes only. We can get started now.”
She stared at him, waiting to see what move he would make.
Adom held his tongue and felt like a hypocrite. Just an hour ago he’d lectured Emet about not being silenced, about living out loud and in the light. Now he found himself about to step back into the darkness, forced into a line of someone else’s definition.
But what choice did he have?
If Lady Jayne told anyone that Alyss had any ownership in the work, she’d be ruined and her Mother would have Adom thrown in jail.
Lady Jane held out her hand. “Come now, Adom. Let’s begin.”
Chapter Three
Emet shut the door to the storefront behind him. He turned into the bright sun and had to shield his eyes from its glare. The sun’s rays found their way throw his fingers. Emet jerked his face to the side and Adom’s words from earlier rattled in his head. He ducked into his conveyance and started the ignition to head into work.
It was true that Emet saw the world in black and white, right and wrong. But the comment about seeing Adom as a shade of gray? Emet didn’t understand what that even meant. Adom was his friend, his lover, an artist and an idealist. Emet saw him clearly. Where was the gray?
The situation with Alyss, too, was black and white. It was wrong what her Mother did to her. Wrong that there was no precedent of law to protect young girls. But his hands were tied in the matter. Alyss wouldn’t press charges against her Mother, and even if she did, a hearing on the matter would eventually reveal her connection to Adom and Emet, which would place them in harm’s way. The lines were stark. There was no gray.
He’d done the right thing. It was unheard of for an unbonded woman to live with two males that were not her mates or, at least, her betrotheds. When others found out it would have caused scandal for all three of them. Adom would be shunned from any reputable gallery, his dreams dashed. Emet would have a tough time advocating the rights of man-kind, and that’s if he would even be allowed to remain in his post. And Lady Alyss would…?
She would what?
What did she have left to lose?
Her Mother had discarded her. She had no place in the Sisterhood. Her only desire was to be Adom’s muse and to create her own artwork. Surely she’d be able to paint while living with her sister, safe in the outlands.
Out in the middle of nowhere.
With three individuals more interested in the science of rodents and plant life…
It didn’t matter. She was away from her Mother. Away from harm. She would be fine. It was for the best.
Emet pulled up to the Sisterhood. He didn’t remember the journey it had taken to get here. He turned off the engine. He sat in his car. His fingers would not release the wheel. His foot tapped the gas pedal. After ten minutes sitting in the parked car, he put the key back in the ignition and headed away from the building. Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Jian’s house and nearly tore through the door running over the manservant.
He spied Jian walking towards him down the hall. “You’ve heard the news?”
There was such joy in Jian’s face. Last night he’d given both Emet and Adom a stern look as they carried an unconscious, young lady into his home; a young lady whose arms were covered in rope marks.
“Our daughter is here,” Jian beamed. “She arrived early this morning.”
The news stopped Emet in his tracks. “Jian, that’s fantastic.”
“She’s perfect Emet. Wait until you see her.” Jian tugged him down the hall.
Jaspir came around the corner and pulled Emet into a bear hug. “Em! You’re here. Wait until you see her. I swear she has Jian’s nose.”
“It's not possible, Jas. I’m not her biological
father.”
“She has the spirit of your nose.”
The two men chuckled. They led Emet to a ground floor bedroom. Inside, Emet spied Lady Chanyn resting on a chaise with a blanket covering her lower half. Standing guard at her back was her husband, Lord Khial. It was the first time Emet had seen the man without a scowl on his handsome face. In Lady Chanyn’s arms lay the swaddled baby girl.
Lady Chanyn looked up and smiled at Emet. “Come and meet your niece, Lady Dayna.”
Emet creeped into the room. He peered down at the little girl and lost his heart. She was tiny and precious. She did indeed have the spirit of Jian’s nose. As she uncurled her fingers and stretched them out towards him, Emet saw that little Dayna had her father Khial’s long fingers indicating she would likely be a musician. Her head was topped with the blonde curls of her dearly departed, biological father, Lord Dain. The baby blinked at Emet and he saw she had the trademark eyes of her Mother and aunts.
“She’s breathtaking, my lady.”
All the adults gazed down at the baby and sighed as she gurgled. The little girl was a thing of beauty. Emet had never seen a little girl up close. Perhaps the Insemination Bill wouldn’t be that bad if it brought more of these precious creatures into the world.
Emet looked beyond the family, hoping to catch sight of Alyss. Instead he saw another woman emerge from the corner. She had the same bone structure of Alyss, but her hairs were tamed in a bun on the top of her head. Her body was covered in a gray sheath, no hair bows or bracelets.
“Greeting, Emet.” Merlyn came up beside Jaspir, who immediately pulled her into his side.
Lord Liam came up and clasped Emet’s hand. “It's good to see you again, Emet.”
“It's good to see you all.” Emet looked at the two groups of triads in the room. “I just wanted to check on Lady Alyss before you all head back.”
The adults all took a collective breath, sucking the joy out of the room.
“My sister’s not here,” Lady Merlyn broke the heavy silence.
“Lady Alyss left hours ago with her Mother,” offered Jian.
“Her Mother?”
“Lady Angyla showed up before Merlyn, just as Chanyn’s water broke,” Jian said. “She helped deliver the baby and then she left with Alyss.”
“What?” Emet must have misheard Jian. Lady Alyss wouldn’t go with her Mother.
“She left willingly.”
That wasn’t possible. She wouldn’t. Not after her Mother had struck her down physically, verbally, emotionally, and in other ways she probably hadn’t told him. She couldn’t go back to her Mother.
“Emet?”
He’d offered Alyss his protection and at the first test, he’d failed her. “I have to go.”
Emet left the room in a flash. He got into his conveyance and headed across town. The black streets and white dividing lines blurred in his mind until all he saw was a gray blur. He sped up, reaching Lady Alyss’ house in five minutes when the journey should’ve taken thirty. The man servant who answered the door was dressed impeccably but looked haggard. There was no gray in his hair or wrinkles at his eyelids, but his eyes looked weary.
“I’m looking for Lady Alyss.”
The male frowned in sever disapproval. “Lady Alyss does not receive males unannounced. In fact, she’s never received a male at home before.”
The servant made to slam the door in Emet’s face, but Emet blocked the frame with one hand and reached for his credentials with the other.
“My apologies, sir. I’m an advocate for man-kind. I have an urgent message for her, if you would just tell her that Emet, from the Male Voice’s offices, is here.”
Something passed over the male’s face at the mention of the Male Voice’s title. “You’re the male who argued the Insemination Bill? The one who brought forth the compromise amendment?”
Emet hesitated, unsure whether this would gain him access to the home of a man serving the matrons who’d written the blasted bill. In the end, Emet nodded, taking the credit and whatever else may come.
“Follow me.”
Emet followed the man inside, but the male stopped at the entrance to an arched doorway. Emet heard the sound of muffled voices coming from within.
“I never believed it was possible that a man could best any of the women in this household,” said the servant. A small smile played at his lips, but it was as though his facial muscles were too weary to hold the expression. He looked away and raised a hand for Emet to proceed him, and then he quickly disappeared down the hall.
Emet reached for the knob and turned. The scene inside the door stopped him from crossing the threshold, but the room’s occupants sprung apart at the creak of the door hinges. Lady Angyla grabbed at the loose bodice of her dress, her face a riot of shock, indignation, and guilt. Sister Roslyn’s pale face turned three shades past red as she scrambled out of the chaise lounge and righted her dress.
“Thank you for your time, Lady Angyla.” Sister Roslyn’s voice was the high pitch of a petulant child caught where they were not supposed to be. “I’m sure you know you must follow the appropriate protocols and take this matter before the entire council. I must return to the chambers now.”
Sister Roslyn dashed past Emet without glancing at him. Emet stood frozen in the doorway, pinned there by Lady Angyla’s death glare.
“How dare you barge into my house. I’ll have you arrested. I’ll call the Peace Keepers now.”
The threat landed hollow on Emet’s ears. He regarded the woman. Her eyes were so much like Alyss’, so much like little Dayna’s. Whenever he’d chanced a glance at Lady Angyla over the past few days, the edges of her eyes had always appeared hardened, like a gold nugget. But now there was a liquid fire inside them. Emet caught the last vestiges of a deep yearning burning inside of her, a yearning she was quickly covering up and solidifying with ire.
“I’m sorry, my lady. I’m sorry to intrude on your private moment-"
“You saw nothing.” The liquid flame vanished and solidified into metallic ice.
“That’s not true.” Emet’s voice was gentle, compassionate. “I saw something you need not hide. Something you need not keep in a quiet, dark corner.”
“If you think to black mail me-”
“I thought no such thing. You’re free to express what’s in your soul. Its not my place to quiet your desires, or to make them public.”
Her eyes were flint ready to strike. Emet saw she didn’t believe a word he’d said.
“All I want is Alyss.”
Lady Angyla’s eyes caught fire at the mention of her daughter’s name. “Alyss doesn’t live here any more.”
“But she left with you, this morning.”
“No. She did not.”
Emet looked around the room, up at the ceilings, as though he could find Alyss through the concrete. If she wasn’t here, where was she?
Chapter Four
Alyss surveyed the sparse wardrobe before her. Her clothing choices were limited. Art supplies took up over half the closet; blocks of clay, an assortment of brushes, and vials of paint for every color in the spectrum. Alyss felt like a kid let loose in a ripe berry patch.
“Alyss does this bow go with this top?”
Alyss turned to peer at Eryka. The young woman stood before a full length mirror dressed in a pale blue top that matched her eyes. She held a dark blue bow next to her flaxen hair.
Eryka had let Alyss into her home a few hours ago. Her home was a studio flat. Her bed was in a corner. A small kitchenette sat in the west of the apartment. And on the east side, where the sunlight was best, there was an urn and paints. Eryka’s pottery lined the wall on full display, in the prime light of the room.
Alyss turned away from the art nook and picked up a gold bow that matched the highlights of Eryka’s hair. She placed the bow in her friend’s hair explaining the selection. Eryka smiled at her reflection. Alyss couldn’t remember the last time Eryka had cared about her wardrobe or her appearance.
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“I have to head in now,” Eryka said. “Why don’t you come in with me?”
“I have no place in the Sisterhood any longer.” Alyss waited for the crushing weight of dashed dreams to settle on her shoulders. It never came. “I have absolutely no desire to return to the Chamber of Science and Health. I feel free. And lost at the same time.”
“What will you do?”
Alyss looked in the east corner of Eryka’s flat. Her hands ached to reach for the brush in a tin can. Then she realized, there was nothing stopping her.
“You’re welcome to stay here if you’d like.”
Eryka had struck off from her Mother’s home as soon as she’d turned the legal age of eighteen. She’d sold her pottery to pay for her flat until she became an apprentice in the Chamber of Arts and Culture. Contrary to Lady Milysa’s beliefs, Eryka had received offers from males looking to bond, but she’d declined each and every one. Alyss had always been in awe of her friend for her independence from her Mother’s support. Ladies without wealthy Mothers would rely on their bondmates to work and financially support them. Alyss had once asked Eryka why she hadn’t chosen that route. Eryka had told her that the only thing she’d give up her independence for was love. At the time, Alyss had thought Eryka ridiculous for willing to give it all up for something so trifle.
That was then.
“Would you help me bring in this piece? I’ve been restoring it for Sister Mychelle. I’ve had to work on it here at home because the law deems it obscene.”
The clay sculpture was of a woman, her breasts bare, her legs spread, and her head thrown back. It didn’t look obscene to Alyss, not after what she’d experienced last night with Adom, or the night before with Emet.
“It's not obscene, it's beautiful.”
“I agree with you,” said Eryka. “But it wouldn’t pass the Chamber of Worship’s tests of decency. First, it depicts a nude woman. And secondly it lacks any literary, political or scientific value. All that adds together to deem it offensive and we now have to hide it away in the basement of the Sisterhood compound. But that’s better than having it destroyed. It’s over a thousand years old.”