by Ines Johnson
"Hello," Chanyn tried.
"Come in, child," said the elder woman. "We do not hover in doorways like manservants."
Chanyn made her way over. Unsure where to sit, she decided to wait for an invitation. When none came, Chanyn decided to try talking again.
"My name is Chanyn. My mother was—"
"We know who you are. And I should know my own daughter's name."
So, the elderly lady was her grandmother. Her pinched face was quite like Chanyn's mother's.
"The least Cylia could have done was to raise the child with some form of manners. Sit, child."
Chanyn chose an empty chair nearer the younger ladies. She lowered herself, and decided to keep her mouth shut. Again, there was silence as they all openly eyed Chanyn.
"Would you like some tea, cousin?" This came from one of the younger girls on the settee. The one with flaming red hair and golden-brown eyes like Chanyn's. Only the brown of the girl's eyes was solid and the gold lay at the edges.
Cousin, she'd said. Chanyn smiled at the girl and nodded.
"I'm Alyss," she said with a smile, handing over a full cup. This is my sister Merlyn."
Merlyn nodded and then her dark head went back to staring down the clock. "Mama, I've met her. Now may I return to the labs?"
"No," said her mother, which would make her Chanyn's aunt. "Custom dictates that we spend at least one quarter of an hour with a guest. Two when it’s family."
With that said, they all sat in silence for another five minutes. Alyss stirred her tea. Merlyn watched the clock. Chanyn's grandmother continued to stare at her. Her aunt continued to tap at her device.
Finally Chanyn couldn't take the silence any longer. "My mother passed away," she said. All eyes fell upon her. "Nearly six months ago, now."
She allowed the weight of her statement to settle and take root in the members of her family. Again, no one said anything for a moment. Until finally her grandmother sighed.
"Well, did she at least postulate a new unified theory of relativity?"
Chanyn wasn't sure what that meant. Her ignorance must have shown on her face.
"Your mother was trying to develop an all-encompassing explanation of the physical aspects of the universe," her grandmother said with great irritation.
Oh, Chanyn thought. So that's what her mother had been doing with all those books and experiments. Chanyn could never quite grasp the lengthy explanations her mother tried to stuff into her head.
"Cylia felt she couldn't focus with all the worldly things around her, especially men." Her grandmother spat the word men.
"I don't know if she... postulated one," Chanyn shrugged. "She didn't tell me."
Her aunt frowned in disappoint and then went back to her device. Chanyn felt the disappointment was directed at her ignorance instead of her mother's failure. The two women were definitely sisters. Chanyn remembered that frown all too well.
Chanyn looked around the room. There were no pictures on the walls depicting family portraits. "I wondered," Chanyn began and then cleared her throat as her grandmother stared at her. "I wondered about my fathers?"
"What about them?"
"I'd like to meet them," she said to her grandmother.
Now all of the women in the room regarded her curiously.
"We have their files..." her grandmother looked around the room, "...somewhere. Your mother sent them away once she confirmed your gender."
Chanyn could only blink. She'd always assumed that when her mother left, her fathers remained behind hoping that one day their daughter would find them again.
"I hear you were found by Lord Dain and Lord Khial," Alyss said beside her. She laid a tentative hand on Chanyn's wrist. "Did they take liberties with you out in the wild?" Alyss jerked her hand back as though she might catch a contagion.
"No," Chanyn said. "Dain and Khial have been nothing but good to me." Well, Dain anyway. "They are gentlemen."
Her aunt looked up from her tablet and laughed at this. "Gentlemen?" she said. "The son of a sex actress and the son of a murderess."
Chanyn had known about Dain's parents' employment, but this new revelation about Khial's parents made her heart thud. Is that why Dain had white-knuckled the steering wheel? Because he knew they'd tell her about Khial's background?
"Now, Lady Danyell didn't kill her mates herself," her grandmother corrected. "She simply drove the men to kill one another. It was a fascinating experiment if you ask me."
"I was quite surprised the Sisterhood had her locked away. It was only two men after all."
"Men are people, too, Mother." This from the clock-watching Merlyn.
"I didn't realize you were raising a sympathist, Angyla," their grandmother admonished.
Merlyn's brown skin appeared to flush a shade darker and she took up her sentry with the clock once more.
"She's young. All childrearing theories say they are supposed to rebel around this age," Angyla dismissed her daughter, and continued with her previous line of conversation. "I had no respect for the psychological arts before Lady Danyell's scandal. After the incident, I actually downloaded one of her books. But I found her work tedious poppycock and quickly discarded it."
"Whatever is the matter with the child?" Chanyn's grandmother stared at her with a hand over her chest.
"I think she may be in shock, grandmother." Alyss came around to the front of Chanyn. "She just learned she's been in the company of two unfit men."
Alyss patted her hand. Her touch was soothing, though Alyss assumed she soothed Chanyn's relief that she'd escaped from danger when in fact Chanyn was beside herself at the callousness of these women.
"Now, you will stay with us," Alyss said still stroking Chanyn's hand as though she were a frightened pet. "And we'll help you find suitable men to use for conception. Merlyn has contracted one male, and is still vetting potential seconds. I won't be of age for another year but I've declined to mate. I find the whole business distasteful."
Chanyn looked at the girl. She thought they were nearly the same in years, but Chanyn didn't have much experience to judge.
"If you don't have a mind for science, then you can become the family breeder." Alyss' eyes were alight, prideful that she'd solved this problem before any of the adult women could come to it.
"That's quite a good idea, Alyss," said their grandmother, appraising Chanyn anew. "It is high time we birthed more females into the family."
They all appraised Chanyn anew.
All her life Chanyn heard her mother's tales of leering men. But the way these women now eyed her, Chanyn felt leered at by the women.
She got up from her seat, turned, and without a word walked through the entryway, and out the door. Dain sat in the car with his head stretched back against the seat so that his neck was hyper-extended, his eyes closed. He jumped and clutched his heart when Chanyn opened the passenger side door.
"Take me home," she said.
Dain glanced at her, but asked no questions. A sad, sorry smile played at his lips. Chanyn wondered if he'd been worried about losing her to her family; or had he been worried Chanyn would cross that threshold and have her dreams of having a family dashed.
Dain turned the ignition and drove away from Chanyn's relatives and back to her new family.
Chapter Ten
For the third time, Jian woke to the guttural sound of his own voice. It had happened twice before during the night. Visions of Chanyn's head bobbing up and down on his shaft. The feel of her lips like velvet on his skin. His shaft throbbed, his body thrashed, and his release, as he lay without the ring's obstruction, shook him awake.
This time he woke in the common room. A few eyes of the elderly monks slid his way in admonishment at disturbing their peaceful afternoon of silent reading and meditation. Jian shifted in his robes, an uncomfortable maneuver as he tried to cover the damp impression left by the still raging stiffness of his shaft.
"How's the training going, young pup?"
Even though Jian w
as well past his adolescence, he remained the youngest hound in the temple. With no clientele in the past few years, the newer recruits all left. Even Jian's fellow training mates had long since left. Those three males had been the last class of trainees at the temple. The young males had been inseparable in their youth and throughout training. Closer to Jian than his own flesh and blood; but as the temple waned and could no longer support them, they each left. Jian never considered leaving. Though, in the first few years after the scandal, he'd been afraid he'd be tossed out on his ear.
Elder Gerry had been the one to sponsor Jian into the temple. Over the years he'd become very much a father figure. He'd come to Jian's defense after the scandal, a move Jian was sure had cost him upward mobility within the temple ranks.
Elder Gerry looked at him now in his peaceful, untethered way. A look Jian tried to master.
"I do not anticipate it will take very long," Jian said, in answer to Elder Gerry's question about Chanyn's training.
Jian could already tell that Chanyn was orgasmic. Even in centuries past, both women and men considered the female orgasm to be elusive. It wasn't elusive. It simply required patience on the part of both parties.
A woman needed to be relaxed and trust her partner.
A man needed to have a working knowledge of a woman's anatomy and an attention span longer than a gnat's.
Lady Chanyn had relaxed almost instantly with him, and her trust came closely on its heels. In the past, with other women, it took Jian many sessions just to get to the point where they would arch into his touch. Chanyn was a responsive woman. Jian doubted he could take much of the credit for her pleasure.
"The first payment should be in our accounts," Jian said.
Elder Gerry nodded. "It is indeed. I've sent for supplies. With the next installment we will be able to repair the roof."
Elder Gerry put a gnarled hand on Jian's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Most often, the monk wore a serene, expressionless mask upon his face. But just now, the old man's lips quirked up, his eyes alight with pride at his young protégé.
"Good work, Jian."
"I just hope that the brothers see it that way," Jian said. He looked around at the faces of the monks.
Elder Gerry's eyes followed Jian's. "Do you remember the first time we met?"
Jian did. He'd been living on the street.
"I was doing a walking meditation," Elder Gerry said. "You were out in a park when I saw you. You had come across a dog."
Jian remembered. It was a handsome looking dog, golden brown fur and pale eyes. His elder brother had a cocker spaniel. That small dog had taken to Jian and, for its love of another, his brother had abused it.
"I saw you reach out for the animal, intending to pet it," said Elder Gerry. "But it growled at you and bared its teeth."
"It bit me, actually."
The dog had been collared and was an unlikely case for rabies. If the animal had been rabid Jian would've likely died. A discarded street kid didn't have much access to a physic's medicinals.
"That it did," agreed Elder Gerry. "I watched the cloud of anger descend upon your face. I thought certainly you would strike out at the animal. But you didn't."
Jian had been angry at the animal. He'd intended an act of kindness and was stricken instead. Jian had always been slow to anger and slow to strike out. The bite was only a scratch. His feelings hurt more than his skin. A closer look at the animal showed that its leg was trapped under a fallen log.
"You paused and in an instant your face changed from anger to compassion. That's when I knew you were meant for this order. You saw that suffering comes from suffering. One doesn't cause injury unless they are hurt."
"The dog changed his attitude when I removed the log," Jian said.
"I remember it differently. The dog never ceased growling and snapping at you while you moved the log. It never changed. You did."
Elder Gerry must've seen the confusion that rested on Jian's face because he continued to clarify his lesson.
"You are still carrying the wounds of the incident from years ago."
Jian knew Elder Gerry no longer spoke of the wound from the dog's bite. He spoke of Jian's ill-fated love affair
"What would happen if you looked past the scar she left? Past the blame? Past the inward growling and snapping you do to yourself? What would you find?"
Elder Gerry didn't wait for Jian to answer. With one more squeeze and a nod, his open expression disappeared. It morphed once more into serenity, and the old man walked on.
Jian carried heavy feet over to a waterfall installation within the communal sanctuary. He reached a hand into the soft transparency of the fall, marveling that something so soft had the power to wear down vast lands. Much of the original continent of the north was under water, unable to withstand the power of water's insistence.
Jian folded his wet hand into his lap. He entwined his fingers, wet overlapping dry, and closed his eyes. Elder Gerry thought Jian should pause. And so he did. Tapping into the energy around him, Jian began to center his mind. He settled himself and peeled back the layers of that time five years ago.
In an instant, Jian felt drenched with sweat. The wound, though old, had never been treated. Beneath the surface, it festered. His heart became heavy. His hands began to shake. He could not go and do his duty to Lady Chanyn in such a condition. He would have to tend to this matter another time. He quickly packed the wound once more and focused on emptying his mind of all thought and feeling.
An hour later, he felt strong in body and spirit. Jian left the temple and headed towards his duty. But coming upon the home of Lord Dain brought to mind the memory of the last big house he'd been in before this one. He hadn't packed the old wound tightly enough, and it broke free and surfaced like a geyser.
Five years ago he'd come to a home like this one, prepared to offer for the woman he loved. Dressed in a regular man's clothes of slacks and a cotton shirt, Jian knocked on the door. When the door opened he was met by a number of men. They'd thrown him to the ground.
It had been raining earlier and he landed in the mud. His fine clothes ruined, but worse, when he glanced up he'd seen her in the second story window, watching. Her eyes looked at him as though she'd never known him. As though the sweet nothings she’d boldly whispered never passed her lips. With one final glance at Jian covered in the refuse of the street, she turned from the window and back to the luxuries within her home.
It was the second time Jian had been thrown out of a home. The first had been his mother's. Jian blinked back the memory, trying to stuff the old hurt down once more.
Though Lord Dain had invited him back, Jian took the steps warily. What would he feel if he looked past the blame? Jian knew the answer to that. He didn't need to unpack the wound from five years ago; there was a wound that preceded it. Beneath the second wound of rejection lay a foundation of hurt, of grief. The knowledge that he was not worthy of love. Not even from his own mother.
Jian took another moment to call to the Goddess for peace. And then he rang the doorbell.
A manservant answered the door to Lord Dain's home and Jian was admitted without ceremony. He found his own way to Lady Chanyn's room. He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles met wood, the door was thrown open.
Lady Chanyn stood on the other side. Eyes wide, a bit breathless, completely lovely.
"Lady Chanyn." Jian lowered his gaze and bowed.
When he rose she was frowning at him. She gave a barely perceptible nod of what seemed like acceptance and then stepped aside to allow him in.
The door closed them in and Jian had a moment of panic. She was barely covered. Her scent caught his nose and he swallowed. Big mistake. Her sweet taste now rolled on his tongue and down his throat.
Jian made a sound to clear his throat. Before he could speak, Lady Chanyn beat him to it.
"I'm really sorry, Jian. I see now that I have so much to learn."
As she spoke, Jian noticed something differ
ent about her. There was a determined set to her jaw, a steely resolve in the way she held her shoulders. The eyes that had been so innocent only a day before looked aged with some new knowledge.
"Please allow me to take the full weight of the blame," he said. "As your instructor, I should have informed you of the rules and expectations before beginning the lesson."
She smiled up at him, relieved. It was so easy to get lost in the pool of churning gold and bronze that were her eyes. Captivated by her gaze, Jian felt fullness settle in his body.
"I'll listen to you this time," she said. "I promise."
Jian nodded, still held in her gaze. A calming motion slowly crept up his arm. He realized it was his doing. Her hands were in his. He didn't remember reaching for them. His thumb traced a circular pattern in her palm. It was an erogenous zone. The zone connected directly to a woman's core.
Jian also noticed they stood thigh to thigh. Though he didn't remember stepping into her. With one of his thighs placed between hers, he could feel the heat emanating from her.
"I have something for you." Chanyn withdrew a package from the side table and handed it to him. Jian began to protest as she placed the package in his hands. It was improper for hounds to receive gifts directly. They were a communal lot and shared all earnings.
Jian prepared to hand the package back to her, but the shape and feel of it caught his curiosity. "What is this?"
Chanyn frowned. "I keep forgetting that these are no longer a part of your world."
Thoroughly curious now, Jian unwrapped the package and saw a firm piece of square leather that bound sheaths of thin material. He opened it and saw writing. He glanced up at Chanyn. "Is this a book?"
Chanyn nodded. "I brought it with me from my home. It’s one of the only works of nonfiction that I actually enjoyed."
Jian turned the book's cover back over. A Natural History of the Senses by Diana Ackerman, it read. There was something about running his palm over the leather cover. Pinching the thin pages with his fingers. It was sensual for his mind.