Sera looked down at the latrine and her mouth dropped open. Jerad took note of her wide-eyed, mortified expression. With understanding of what she was thinking, he gently placed a hand to her shoulder.
"I am a physician, Sera. I have cared for many who have needed assistance with this."
"Lucky me," she groaned inwardly. "Spare me the details."
"Do you need help?"
"No!" she yelled quite loudly.
"Then I will leave you to your privacy," He grinned at her adorably embarrassed face.
Sera emerged from the privy a short time later, sporting a look of chagrin. She found Jerad in a corner of the garden, sitting on a curved bench, in front of a small, rod-iron table. She sat next to him. He placed a dish of food in front of her. Sera stared at the breakfast on her plate. There was an array of finger foods that looked appetizing enough, but despite her hunger, she could not eat. Jerad, however, was devouring the food in front of him. He had eaten very little these past rises and was quite famished.
He stopped abruptly. "You are not eating. Are you ill?"
"It’s a barbaric custom."
Jerad stared down at his plate, confused. "It is only food."
Sera rolled her eyes. "No you dufus, that whole thing with the cloak."
"It is an accepted way. Just two rise cycles afore, Thordo challenged Fresdel for his betrothed, Camdariel’s hand. Fresdel won the Rite of the Cloak, although it was not without consequence. He suffered many wounds in the Challenge… and what’s a dufus?"
Sera ignored his question. "And Thordo died?"
"No, but he was so impaired that he relinquished the Challenge, unable to continue, less he endanger his life. Camdariel was disappointed but not devastated. She would have accepted either for a husband."
That word again, disappointed, as if maiming and killing were no big deal. These people were too casual about such a thing. Sera felt a pit form in her stomach as she mentally relived the terror of being attacked, forced to defend her life, and the blood bath that followed when she sliced Sondra’s throat. She gulped.
"So I did not have to kill her?"
"The point of your blade was at her throat. Had a halt been called, you would have been deemed the victor."
Sera narrowed her eyes as a rush of anger consumed her. "You mean to tell me that all I had to do was yell the word halt?"
She was furious with Jerad for withholding such important information from her. "Why didn’t you tell me this!" Sera wanted to hit him. "How could you do that to me... to Sondra!"
"You would prefer to have been slain?"
"What are you talking about?" she snapped.
"Had I told you that you could halt the Challenge, once you had Sondra under your blade, you would have done exactly that."
"So?" Sera’s voice cracked with indignation.
"Sondra would have denied the victory and killed you."
"That wouldn’t have happened, if I would have refused to continue to fight her."
"Ah Sera, but it would have. Sondra, as well she knew, was at the mercy of your blade. She should have called a halt. In her pomposity, she did not. Sondra would not have stopped until one of you was dead. She had a streak of malevolence in her soul."
"Why did you force me to challenge her? Why didn‘t you call for a halt?"
"It was the only way to break my betrothal to her and bond with you, as the Oneroi intended, as I desired."
Sera flew out of her seat and stood rigid. "Your betrothal to her was your problem, not mine!"
Sera disregarded his comment about the Edict, not wanting to deal with that issue at the moment.
"You challenged when you accepted the bloom. I did not force you."
Sera plopped back down in her chair grabbing her side and wincing. She dropped her head and pulled at her hair. "I shouldn’t have done that."
"Then why did you?"
Sera shot her head up and glowered, "I... I thought it was just a gift."
Jerad shrugged. "It would not have mattered. I offered you my crest and it angered Sondra. She would have tried to kill you whether you had accepted it or not. You had no choice."
"So what would have happened if Sondra had killed me?"
"Then I would have regretfully been mistaken about my assumption that you were the Ptino asteri."
Sera looked at him with distaste. Jerad and Sondra were promised, probably since childhood. He had taken an oath of celibacy and would not marry her until he avenged his mother’s death. Sondra had patiently and faithfully waited for him, loved him from a distance.
"How could you be so cruel?" She scowled and turned away from him.
Jerad placed a hand under her chin to turn her head. She jerked away and refused to look at him. He was ugly to her right now.
"Look at me Sera."
When she continued to refuse, Jerad grabbed both of her shoulders and forced her face to him. Sera gave him the most appalled expression she could muster.
"We were childhood friends, Aryan, Mekal, Sondra and I, all from Noble clans. It was only fitting to our parents that Sondra and I become consorts. I never cared for her in that way. She was, as a sister. Long I asked her to break the betrothal, but she would not. I warned her that I would somehow force a Challenge. I did not... I never wanted to take her for a wife. I thus told her many times. She would not listen."
"She loved you though, didn’t she?"
He shook his head. "Sondra had a cold heart. She loved only status and power."
"But isn’t a promise, a promise?"
"It was not a promise I chose to give. If she had agreed to my wishes, the betrothal would have been dissolved without repercussion. She was being stubborn. Sondra had a conqueror’s mind. She could not vanquish me and that was a stab to her pride."
"She waited for you."
Jerad burst into a deep roar, throwing his head back.
"Sondra waited for nothing. She bedded half of the male warriors in the Zone. In fact Mekal, Sondra, and I were in the Great Hall one luna enjoying the spirits. Sondra solicited the company of one of the male guests. She nearly tupped him at our table, the brazen woman. She gave her charms freely and assumed she could still have me in the end. She made me look like the fool."
"Isn’t that prohibited?"
Jerad snorted. "She was a free woman with the right to do as she pleased. You see my Starbird, she proved that her loyalty toward me was less than honorable. All knew what she was about. Sondra had no shame."
"I believe where I come from, women who do those things are called whores."
"Here too. To openly display loose virtues is severely frowned upon. It is wiser for both men and woman to be discreet with their private affairs, less we become daft like the fools in the Seventh Zone."
He paused a moment then grimaced. "Aside from this Sera, you saw her. She was nearly as big as I am. She was bigger than many of the males who dwell here." He spread his arms and elevated his voice an octave, for emphasis.
Sera pursed her lips together to suppress a smile. There was no humor to be found in the death she caused, but Jerad was right. The woman was a gargantuan.
Jerad leaned in toward Sera, propped a forearm on his thigh, and lowered his voice. "Her breasts were like rocks, not smooth and soft like yours." His eyes darted to Sera’s breasts. Sera’s eyes went wide at his bluntness.
Then he shuddered. "She would have pulverized my delicate manhood."
Sera scrunched up her face and pressed a fisted hand to her lips, but she couldn’t contain herself.
"Ha!" Sera laughed and slapped the back of her hand across his chest. "Your delicate manhood. Give me a break."
She shook her head, still chuckling. It figured. Every time she was almost successful at not liking him, he did or said something that made her feel lighthearted toward him. Once again her anger toward him slipped away.
Jerad picked at his food, biting into a piece of flatbread, and washing it down with the herbal berry tea in his cup. Sera’s stoma
ch growled. She was suddenly hungry, and the food was now looking more tempting. She picked up a soft yellow cube of fruit and bit into it. It was delicious, somewhat bittersweet. While enjoying her breakfast, Sera mulled over their conversation. She imagined Sondra, an oversized, but handsome warrior woman, throwing one of her studs over her shoulder and running off to toss him in her bed. Sera lowered her head and wondered how she ever managed to defeat the woman. Then she felt a twinge of sympathy for Jerad. Sondra had humiliated him. Sera peered at him through the corner of her eyes.
"Are you really a vir... " Sera stumbled over her words. It was an embarrassing question, but she was curious about the reference made to his oath. "I mean, you have never been with... oh never mind." Sera turned a healthy shade of red.
Jerad placed a hand behind Sera’s head, drawing her face to within inches of his. He slowly shook his head from side to side. "Never, but soon with you, wife."
Sera almost choked. When he closed in for a kiss, she turned her head away and Jerad pulled back. Undeterred, Jerad grazed her cheek with his knuckles. He ran the back of his splayed fingers along her throat and over the top of one breast. Sera didn’t move. She didn’t jerk back. She didn’t even flinch.
Oh sure Sera, nice message you are sending here. Turn away from a kiss but let him play with your boobies.
She clasped her hands together and firmly pressed them on the tabletop, resisting the sudden desire to jump in his lap and rub up against him. The idea of so much untouched masculine flesh was tempting, and he apparently was hers to take.
Aw geez!
Sera dropped her forehead to her fisted hands. How could she think such a thing after all he’d put her through?
Jerad narrowed his eyes, noting that her nipples were peaking beneath her attire. A smile curved his lips. He was pleased with the cover garment the seamstress brought her to wear. The thin material betrayed her body.
He brushed his palm against her exposed thigh. Sera stiffened. She picked up her cup and swallowed arduously, trying to ignore the lusty sensations holding her hostage. Jerad pressed his lips against her ear, sending a thrilling shiver along the back of her neck.
Well that certainly didn’t help.
Sera released a small, strangled cough and cleared her throat. Then she held her breath and counted to ten, remembering that counting to ten was supposed to be good for something.
Jerad reached for a piece of flatbread. He scooped a small amount of a dark orange topping from a bowl and dabbed it on top.
"Here."
Sera reached for it but he stopped her hand and brought the bread to her mouth instead.
"Open your mouth."
"And say ah?" Sera jested, but as soon as the word ah left her lips, he popped the bread into her mouth. She closed her mouth with a small chortle. It tasted like peaches. It was good.
Jerad watched the even line of her jaw work as she chewed and the sensual motion of her throat as she swallowed. When her tongue dabbed at the corner of her mouth to retrieve a stray drop of jam, his groin, which had been perpetually tight since the moment he first laid eyes on her, swelled torturously fuller against the seam of his trousers. His hand came up to reach behind her head, and he bent toward her. This time she did not turn away. Sera’s belly tensed as she anticipated a kiss, but Jerad dragged his tongue across the crease of her mouth, withdrew, and savored the flavor of jam and her lips with his own tongue. Sera gasped at his intimate boldness. He smirked at the shocked look on Sera’s face.
"What?" he mocked. "Did you think I was going to kiss you?"
She was fun to tease.
Sera’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t tell him that it was exactly what she thought, but before she could snap it shut he drew her mouth to his, and tasted her from the inside out.
The man was a virgin rake!
She should have pulled back, but her tongue reacted like a hungry vulture and she plunged the depths of his mouth instead. He responded by devouring her, exploring her with his own tongue until she sighed into his mouth and her body melted into his. Jerad relished the feel of her against him as she surrendered to his seductive siege.
He ran a hand along her side and slipped it into the opening of her gown, smoothing his hand over her breast and gently kneading the supple mound. Her nipple hardened under his palm as his lips moved to kiss and suckle her neck, her shoulder, and then trail back to her mouth. His craving for her became so intense he had to fight the impulse to rip open her robe and take her right there on the bench.
"Ahem!"
Sera and Jerad froze. Their eyes flew open, their lips still locked. A woman was standing on the terrace looking quite abashed at interrupting their private interlude. Phoebe stood next to her giggling.
Jerad withdrew his hand and slowly released Sera’s bottom lip from his teeth. He rose from the bench, thankful he was wearing a longer tunic to hide the obvious bulge in his crotch, especially with his babe sister standing there. He had forgotten that the seamstress was due to arrive. Jerad gave Sera an affectionate kiss at her temple, took his leave and headed to the infirmary.
Chapter Nine
The poor woman apologized at least a thousand times for her rude intrusion in the garden. Sera nonverbally thanked her at least a thousand times for her rude intrusion in the garden. Phoebe just sat on the chaise smiling at Sera, not caring who intruded on whom.
Mesari the seamstress visited, at Jerad’s request, to measure Sera for a wardrobe. It was actually a thoughtful deed, considering Sera had nothing but her birthday suit to wear. It was also somewhat surprising that her rogue of a husband didn’t just keep her naked and waiting in his chamber. She had a feeling she would be constantly dodging his pursuing hands, not that she was putting much effort into the dodging.
In Jerad’s absence, Sera had taken the opportunity to bathe, thankful he had given her the opportunity to do so, out of his sight. She had just finished donning the single gown that Mesari brought for her to wear until her clothes could be sewn, and was smoothing the wrinkles from the full length, silky garment, when she heard the rustle of the lambrequin door curtain. She looked up to see Jerad standing in the entranceway of the bed chamber.
Jerad returned from the infirmary. His mind was not on his duties. It was the first time he was away from Sera’s side. Being separated from her left him feeling vacuous. He could not concentrate. The taste of her, the feel of her heated body against him unrelentingly suffused his senses.
There had been work to do. He tended to a child’s bothersome cough, removed a large splinter from a finger, and applied ointment to the stiff joints of an elderly woman. The most pressing matter, that required his attention, was to extract a bantam knife from the foot of a citizen from the village. The commoner and his cohorts had taken up the sport of kotopoulo, a game of tossing a blade, half a finger long, at an opponent’s feet. The object was to get as close as possible without causing injury. Jerad dislodged the blade successfully. He stitched the wound, applied pain killers and antiseptic before he bound it. He sent the young man hobbling away with a warning to hone his reflexes if he wished to avoid becoming a cripple in the future. He could almost predict another dagger in the foot would present to the clinic before the end of the rise.
Jerad always found much satisfaction in his work, but this rise he was filled with discontentment.
Ezra noted his solemn visage, watched his frequent sighs.
With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, Ezra finally insisted that he return to his Sera, avowing that she would rather work alone than withstand another moment of his gloomy facade. She assured him that he would be sent for if she required his assistance. Jerad readily and gratefully agreed. He finished some minor tasks with haste, and left Ezra to handle the activities in the clinic.
"That was quick." Sera pulled her calf length boots onto her feet and looked up at Jerad. She could tell by the admiring expression on his face that he liked what he was seeing.
Mesari was bending to pick
up the cover garment that Sera had worn for three rises, intending on delivering it to the laundry. The look on the Noble Chancellor’s face told her to make herself scarce. With a word to Phoebe, that it was time to leave, Mesari rushed toward the door, paused briefly, crossed her right fist to the opposite shoulder and bowed. She promised Sera that she would have several items of clothing ready for her, on the next rising. She also promised to knock.
Phoebe started to follow, but when she reached her brother, she stopped. "May I go with you to the Grandstage this rise, brother?"
Jerad gave her a loving smile. "Of course little sweet. Wait for us in the outer chamber."
Phoebe threw her arms around her brother’s chest and hugged him tightly. Jerad kissed the top of her head. Sera was warmed by the fondness they shared. A stitch of remembrance, an affinity crept upon her and took hold. A face formed in her thoughts. She too had a sibling, a brother.
Phoebe released her hold on Jerad and bound out of the bed chamber, a happy and carefree glide in her steps.
"She is special to you." Sera watched the child disappear through the curtains. A slight ache rose in her chest.
"I would guard her with my life."
"Phoebe and Mesari seem close, as well."
"Mesari mothered her when our own died, though she was only twelve term cycles herself. They are together often. They are good friends."
Jerad turned his attention to Sera. He noted her forlorn expression. "What is it Starbird?"
"I’m homesick. I want to go home."
Jerad moved toward Sera and embraced her. Sera laid her head against his chest and accepted his comforting.
"You are home, Sera."
Home, she thought. What if he was right? Was this where fate had meant to put her, or was she in this place by mere circumstance? Sera tilted her head to look into Jerad’s eyes. She was suddenly overcome with the sense that she was glimpsing a reflection of her own soul. There was an unspoken harmony that mixed between them. It shook her to her core. No, there was nothing random about their meeting. Jerad had said it, and she could feel it resonating within her. Their paths were woven, boundless.
The Third Corridor Page 11
