by Ines Johnson
"You don't want me, do you?"
Khial looked at the proud tilt to her chin. Her arms crossed over her chest, plumping up those full breasts. The nipples pointing right at him, shining a light on the truth hardening in his pants. He saw a hint of thigh at the slit in her dress. Finally, he looked back into her eyes.
"You're right. I don't want you in the bond," he said. "I resent you trying to step in and be the hero to my love story."
She surprised him again by nodding in understanding. "I don't want to disrupt your story, Khial. But I do want to help. Dain's my friend. He's my only friend. I don't want him to die. But if that can't be helped, I want to grant whatever his wishes are."
"I don't care about his money."
"Neither, do I."
They paused and regarded each other from opposite sides of the bed.
"So, what are we going to do?" she asked.
Khial shrugged. He'd been trying to puzzle that out since before she got here a week ago. He was no closer to an answer of his own. She was going to have to come to her own conclusions.
"Why don't you have a talk with your monk. He'll be here tonight."
Chapter Thirteen
It still surprised Jian that he was received into the house. The manservant, he'd learned his name was Rianald, gave Jian a slight bow of deference. As a third son, receiving the deference of a bow was something he never thought possible. Only his eldest brother, the first-born son and thereby lord, obtained that respect.
Jian had seen his eldest brother a few times walking the street. The two men could have been twins, they so resembled each other. The one time Jian left the temple without his robes, that time he went to her to run away and elope, he'd been mistaken for his brother.
At the time, Jian thought it a sign. A good sign. He would be accepted into polite society after his bonding. Perhaps he would walk the streets with his brother instead of his brother pretending not to know the man with whom he shared a face and blood. Later that fateful day, Jian trudged back to the temple covered in mud. The same people, who earlier recognized him as his brother, gasped and then burst into laughter, pointing and jeering.
It was the last day anyone bowed to him.
Rianald straightened and let Jian pass. "Lady Chanyn is in her room, Brother Jian."
Jian made his way up the staircase. He adjusted the folds of his robes, ran a hand down the planes of his shaved head, and licked his dry lips. He felt watched.
On the wall hung a portrait, a radiant blonde woman embraced by two equally blonde males. Lord Dain's parents, three of a small number of erotic artists. The portrait hung high on the wall, out of reach, much like their performances. You could look, you could imagine, you could yearn, but you couldn't touch Lady Darlyn.
At Chanyn's door, Jian hesitated. His hand paused in the process of forming a fist to knock. He lowered his hand and took a step back. Jian leaned his back to the opposite wall and stared at the door.
He'd spent the last forty-eight hours in silent meditation, praying for clarity, for strength. He would go for long stretches of peace, but then Chanyn's name or her face would pop into his mind and his heart would rend.
He'd given her time to think things through. She was a smart woman. She would come to the best decision for herself. She would accept Lord Dain's proposal and agree to conceive his heir. The decision would put her in the best possible position, one of wealth and security. It was that particular thought, the thought of Chanyn being cared for and comfortable, that set his soul at ease. It made him happy, prideful even, that he would have something to do with putting her in that position.
Still, he dreaded crossing the threshold and watching, hearing, her take back her affections in exchange for the comfort they both wanted for her. The last time a woman withdrew her declaration of love he hadn't been standing face to face with her. This time he had to stand up like a man and take the rejection. It was a high price. One he knew needed to be paid in order for Chanyn to have a life of ease.
"She thinks she's in love with you."
Jian turned to see Lord Khial striding toward him. Dressed in a cream shirt that opened to reveal the rich mahogany of his chiseled chest. The man moved like a cat. A seductive grace that hinted at quick strength.
Jian straightened away from the wall. "I'm not going to run away with her, if that's what you think."
Lord Khial shrugged. "I wouldn't stop you."
That was not the answer Jian expected. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "She believes you do not like her."
Lord Khial's stoney face cracked into a grin. "I didn't, but we've come to an understanding."
Jian averted his eyes from that mischievous grin. Of course they had. They were both about to become very wealthy with the imminent demise of Lord Dain.
As though reading his mind, Lord Khial said, "I'm not after his money."
Jian could believe that of Lord Khial, he knew the man descended from royalty and wealth.
"Neither is she," Lord Khial continued.
"Everyone wants comfort, be it money or family."
"Even you, monk?"
"I have family," Jian said. "My brothers at the temple. They took me in."
"You're a third? Your family discarded you?"
The term never failed to rankle. "Yes, my mother gave me up." Jian's mother turned him out of the house at the age of twelve. Once a male child reached twelve, he could be legally cast out without repercussions from the Sisterhood.
Khial placed his back to the wall and regarded Chanyn's door. "My mother liked to measure my emotional and mental responses to different stimuli. Once, she told me I was technically a third, because she'd had two miscarriages. So, she cast me out. It was only for two weeks, and only to the back woods of the family estate. She was testing the theory of nature versus nurture. She wanted to find out if my base human instincts would help me survive or would my nurtured upbringing cause me to perish."
Lord Khial paused, detached, but still lost in memory. "I was five years old at the time."
Jian's hand reached out on instinct, but he caught himself just in time before making contact with the young lord. He'd heard the tales of Lord Khial's mother. A descendant of royalty, a great beauty, and an intellectual who did many controversial, but groundbreaking, studies on the human mind. She was also the only woman in recent history serving a sentence for second-degree murder. Her final experiment caused her bondmates to kill each other in a fit of rage. Rage she'd stirred within them.
"She couldn't feel empathy," Lord Khial continued. "Sociopath, is what the disorder is called. It wasn't her worst experiment. Dain was born with a weak heart but his mother willed him to live with her love alone. I spent my childhood as a human lab rat. Chanyn spent hers in isolation with a neglectful mother. And you were discarded by yours. I can't blame any of us for seeking comfort where we can find it."
Lord Khial's face molded to stone once more. He pushed off the wall, but then he paused, looking at Chanyn's door. He turned and leveled a glare on Jian. "Do not upset her." Lord Khial's own vehemence must've surprised him because his expression cracked, just slightly. "Dain wouldn't like it."
He turned to go, but paused at the sound of Jian's voice.
"Anger is a weather system."
"What?" Lord Khial scowled, turning back.
"It's something my mentor taught me. Anger is like a weather system. It has heat and pressure. Its winds are righteousness. But at the eye of the storm are fear and powerlessness."
"Don't try to psychoanalyze me monk. I survived the best."
"That's my point, my lord. You're not the system," Jian said. "You're a tree. You stood stubbornly in the wind and it made you strong. But the system has moved on. You can let your guard down."
Lord Khial's blue eyes were as cold as granite before he turned and walked on.
Jian gathered his courage and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Chanyn called.
She sat in a chair, clothed in a modest
day dress. She didn't stand.
"Lady Chanyn," Jian bowed.
"Hi," she said from her perch.
He straightened and dared to look at her, and then almost fell to his knees. She had been crying; the red around her eyes evident. The liquid gold churned. Her mouth was set in a determined line, her chin lifted.
"My friend is dying," she said. "My mother died a few months ago. I didn't cry when I found her lying still. I had to dig her grave and carry her out of our home, far enough away so that animals wouldn't come near our home after me. And then I was all alone."
Jian did go to her then. The thought of Chanyn being alone nearly killed him. He took her hands in his own. She looked down at their entwined fingers and gave them a squeeze as though to test their realness.
"I've only known Dain for a week and he's not even gone yet. But here I am crying over his death. Our connection, and the care that we share for each other, is real. What I feel for my friend is real. It hurts and you can see the evidence of the pain in my tears."
She wiped at her face and continued. "I've known you for less time than I've known Dain. Our connection, what we shared with each other and the care that we have for one another are also real. I know it is."
Jian's heart pounded in its cage, begging to be free to speak.
"I'm going to conceive a child with my friend," Chanyn continued. "I'm doing it because he thinks it will save me and the love of his life. I'm doing it because he has given me so much and this is the only thing he's asked of me. But I need to understand why you're doing it, Jian?"
Jian swallowed. Chanyn held his gaze. He knew he should look away from her. Everything would show plainly on his face. She would see it all if he didn't look away. She'd see his heart beating in the reflection of his eyes. She'd see the desire to bring her close in his eyes. She'd see the desire to protect her in his eyes. She'd see his very soul yearning to join with her if he didn't look away right now.
Jian managed to blink. In the instant of that blink and his lids reopening, it was too late. When Jian focused once more on Chanyn, he saw the bright light of hope in her eyes.
"Chanyn," he sighed. He could close his eyes now. He shut them tight and bowed his head into her lap. She ran her fingers over his brow and Jian was nearly lost. Nearly.
He stayed in her lap as he spoke. "You say Lord Dain's friendship means the world to you. My brothers at the temple mean the world to me. They have given me so much, also asking little in return."
Jian straightened. This part of the story had to be told face to face.
"Five years ago, I trained a woman, a young girl, really. She was newly eighteen, newly mated. She believed herself in love with me. I wanted to believe it too. You know that only first sons are allowed to bond. I am a third and a monk at that. I took a vow to serve the Goddess in her temple for all my days. But I threw it all away on the whim of a girl who didn't know the meaning of love, or the devotion and sacrifice that comes with it. She came to her senses when she realized we would be penniless.
"She went on to bond with her two mates. All was forgiven for her. But for me, my temple was ostracized by the scandal. My brothers nearly starved because of my folly. I can't do that to them again. Even if this time it’s..."
He didn't dare complete that sentence. He began another.
"Your pleasure has given me such happiness. A happiness that I never expected to know. A man cannot serve two mistresses. I cannot stay with you. Before I go, I want to give you the family that neither of us has had. I believe you will make the greatest mother. If you will allow me to be a part of your conception and secure your future it will fill my heart for the rest of my days."
Chanyn sat silent for a moment, eyes boring into his, peering into his soul. "You believe that what I feel for you is real?"
Jian hesitated, but then nodded.
"I believe that you feel the same way," she said.
Jian closed his eyes and willed his head and heart to remain still.
When he opened his eyes, she held her arms wide before him.
For a moment, Jian didn't comprehend. He'd never been offered a hug before. He'd been embraced in the throes of passion. But no one had ever held their arms out to him for the sole purpose of comforting him. He went tentatively into her arms. Once they made contact, he engulfed her, holding her firmly against his body. They stayed that way for many moments.
Chanyn sighed deeply. He felt the weariness in her bones. He lifted her and carried her to the bed. Lying down beside her, he brought her once more into his arms. She settled her head on his chest.
After some time she spoke. "I wouldn't ask you to give up your family, Jian. Just as I know you won't ask me to forsake my friend. All my life I've only wanted one thing, and after the last time we were together I thought it had slipped through my fingers. I refuse to have any more regrets in this life. So if you won't say it, I will."
And then she did.
They were just three little words, but they took him to a soul-peaceful place meditation had never once achieved for him.
Chapter Fourteen
Chanyn looked down at the gold band on her finger. The array of jewels winked back at her. The gold bonded her to Dain and Khial. On the band sparkled three gems. The ruby was Dain's pledge, the sapphire Khial's. The diamond at the center was a tradition held over from the twentieth century. It held no meaning other than decorative. Women didn't need to pledge anything to men. The third gem was simply a symbol of status. Rianald told her that the larger the diamond the more wealthy the woman. Chanyn's diamond was huge.
She was married.
The ceremony had been lavish, but brief. She had to do nothing but walk out in a lovely gown of white. She looked virginal, innocent, naive. That would have been true a week ago, but it was no longer. Chanyn knew that the people who shared your blood could be callous and devious. She knew that life could take the worst and put power in their hands, and then take the best and put weakness in their hearts. Chanyn itched to take the gown off, but the night was far from over.
The crowded ceremonial hall held more people than she'd seen in her entire life. People coming to gape at the wildling found outside the city walls, no doubt. Lump that in with the spectacle of being bound to two of the city's most notorious sons. There were a good deal of gasps, a few snickers, but mostly they just stared.
Rianald, Tem, and Brent outdid themselves on Chanyn's hair and makeup. Her gown showed all her best features, lifting her breasts and accentuating her hips. Her hair was a soft halo around her head. Her make up took her own breath away when she looked in the mirror. The onlookers may have come to gape, but Dain's manservants made sure they left envious.
She was married.
She had to keep repeating it to herself just to make it true.
She was married. It was nothing like she'd dreamed. First, she was married to two men. Second, neither of them were her true love. One of her husbands she felt a deep kinship to, while she shared a speculative truce with the other. The man she loved hadn't even come to her wedding. But at least one of her relatives had.
At the end of the ceremony, as Chanyn, Dain, and Khial took the felicitations of well-wishers, Merlyn made her way to Chanyn. A handsome young man with red hair, green eyes and golden skin trailed behind her.
"Greetings cousin," Merlyn said. "I bring glad tidings from our family."
Chanyn's shoulders jerked in surprise. "Really?"
Merlyn hesitated and then shook her head once. "No," she admitted. "But custom dictates that when a family member is bonded they should have representatives from their family as witnesses."
Merlyn recited the facts as though she read them from a book. Her speech pattern reminding Chanyn of her mother's. What differentiated Merlyn from Chanyn's mother was the hint of compassion in her eyes.
"So, because of custom," Merlyn lifted a delicate shoulder not quite meeting Chanyn's eyes, "here I am. I wouldn't want your bond made illegitimate on a technicality."
> Chanyn reached out a hand to Merlyn's shoulder. "That was very kind of you."
Merlyn stared at Chanyn's hand. Chanyn pulled her hand back, afraid she'd broken some custom. Chanyn's mother hadn't liked any forms of touch and Chanyn frequently forgot to keep her hands to herself despite years of admonishments.
Chanyn glanced over Merlyn's shoulder. "Who's your friend?"
Merlyn followed Chanyn's glance. "Oh, that's just Liam. He's my betrothed." Merlyn threw out the comment casually.
Chanyn held out her hand to the young man. "It's nice to meet you, Liam."
Liam looked at Chanyn's hand in utter shock.
"Whatever are you doing?" asked Merlyn, her head cocked to the side like a bird's.
Chanyn pulled her offensive hand away, cradling it to her heart. "I was greeting my soon to be cousin-in-law."
Both Merlyn and Liam stared at her. Off to the side Chanyn could see Dain grinning good-humoredly in her direction. She raised her brows high as though to say, What have I done wrong now? Though she couldn't hear it, she saw Dain's chest tremble with a chuckle. Chanyn couldn't help but note how well he looked after a couple of days rest.
"I think you might be as feral as grandmother says you are."
What did she have to lose? Chanyn leaned in conspiratorially. "I think you might be right."
Merlyn blinked, and then laughed. The sound seemed to startle her and she took a moment to collect herself. A small grin remained as she looked once more at Chanyn. With Merlyn's face relaxed she saw the family resemblance, the high cheekbones and full lips, the same brown-gold inquisitive eyes as Chanyn's reflection.
But then Merlyn's face sobered. "I hear you're being trained by a Pleasure Hound." She whispered the words Pleasure Hound as though they were some sort of obscenity.
Chanyn nodded. Merlyn stepped in closer.
"I used to know a hound," Merlyn confided. "Well he wasn't a hound when I knew him. He used to work on the estate. But then there was an... incident."
Over Merlyn's shoulder, Chanyn saw Liam bristle. His shoulders stiffened and his jaw clenched.