Authors: Patricia A. Knight
Pacing nervously back and forth,
Elder Patricio began.
“
As I know the conte likes plain speaking, I will come straight to the point. From the end of the
Tetriarch
, 456 years ago, every elder in the
L’anziano
has studied, worked and dreamed of being alive when that special combination of genes reoccurred. It is the reason we elders exist. Our life’s work is to construct the bloodlines to recreate a genetic combination evidencing that ability again. Conte Camliel Aristos DeTano, Princess Fleur de Luna Constante, you possess two of the three gene profiles required.”
Elder
Patricio seated himself on the first level, not three feet from the couple. His wispy voice vibrated with triumph. “The genetic profile of the
Tetriarch
has reoccurred.”
Patricio waited for the rustle and stir in the chamber to die down before he continued.
“We were not certain, of course, but with the extraordinary results after the
Great Rite
and then
Renewal of Small Flame
, we had such hope. We felt we had at least two of the genetic keys.” He nodded at Ari. “When you came to my rooms and advised me of your interaction with Verdantia’s sentience, I was almost certain.”
She looked at Ari
in wonder. He reached for her hand, holding it closely clasped in his.
“
Conte DeTano, I know you did not neglect your history,” the elder noted. “Your Royal Highness, tell me what you know of the
Tetriarch
.”
She
cleared her throat and looked at Ari nervously. “
Primo
Federago,
Segundo
Agentio and
Prima
Isolde ruled jointly in Verdantia from NT Solar Date 4142 to 4185. They established the sigil tower network protecting us. Critically important was the
Tetriarch’s
ability to empower all thirty-two tower
diamantorre
. And they did it without
cinnagin
. The
Tetriarch
founded the
L’anziano
to preserve and duplicate their combination of genes and further our understanding of Verdantia’s electro-magnetic energies—what the commoners call
magick
.”
The
elder leaned forward in his chair and nodded his approval. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness. The
L’anziano
has, over the past few centuries, observed one individual in a given generation with the proper genetic map but we never had two living in the same generation—much less three.”
Turning to
Ari, he began tentatively. “Conte DeTano, your military attaché, Visconte Doral Celestia Agentio DeLorion, forgive my plain speaking, could you bring yourself to, ahem, enjoy carnal relations with him? Do you find him distasteful in any way?”
“
I find nothing about him distasteful.”
“
I am relieved to hear that. We were concerned. After a year and a half together, the two of you never, umm, that is, we, ah—feared—there could be some, ah, sexual impediment,” the elder stammered and finished hurriedly. “I ask, of course, because we think he carries the third genetic signature.” Elder Patricio sank into his chair and eyed Ari apprehensively.
“
How do
you
know we never…” There was a long pause and Fleur watched while Ari studied Patricio. His fingers set up a steady drumming on the arm of his chair. “Is there no end to your manipulation and spying on me?”
“
You
would
see it that way.”
Ari
stared at the elder for long moments, his face a cold mask. “You played with Visconte DeLorion’s life and mine for your own purposes, Elder.”
“Verdantia’s purposes, not mine.”
“
You risked Fleur’s
life
,” Ari seethed.
“
You are straying from the subject, Conte DeTano. It was her duty. There was no other option.” Patricio’s flat voice softened. “My remorse was genuine.”
She could feel the bones in her fingers rub together as his hand grip
ped hers tighter and tighter. “Ari, please, you are crushing my hand.”
“
Sorry.” He relaxed his grip.
His eyes narrowed, spearing Patricio with an assessing stare.
“My order forbidding superior/subordinate sexual relations must have scrambled your little game, Ruprecht,” he drawled.
A long sigh escaped the
elder. “It was not a game, Conte DeTano. We had hoped you would have established a more—intimate—relationship with DeLorion by now. We needed to know.” Patricio brought up a trembling hand and massaged his forehead. “We meant well. It was so important you had a chance to know each other. DeLorion is unaware of his heritage. To him, you were just his next posting.”
“
From your point of view, I suppose we have been manipulative. It changes nothing.” There was a mass clearing of throats and a rustle of robes signaling a general unease.
She looked at the gathered assembly
, then to Patricio and finally back to Ari.
Ari
was eyeing Patricio in blatant disgust. His lips curled contemptuously. “If you wanted me to fuck him so you could test your pet theories, why didn't you just ask me to?”
With an inarticulate bellow of exasperation, Patricio stood
, throwing his hands up. “Because for
fifteen years
, you have been
insanely
resistant to cooperating with us!” His shout reverberated throughout the chamber. Patricio slumped back into his chair. Sinking into his robes, he crossed his arms belligerently and glowered at Ari.
Oh dear, they are staring at each other like
demon-wolves. I give Ari two minutes before he is out of his chair and at Patricio’s throat.
An audible groan rose from the
elders. Several silent, uneasy moments ticked by.
She
reflected on all she had learned about her warlord in the past month. Her soft chuckle broke the silence.
“
You have been difficult, Ari.”
Such a very, very wicked man.
She grinned at him mischievously.
Ari cast a hostile look her way
. Oh, don’t take that attitude with me, my Lord. You know very well what Patricio is speaking of.
She laughed, shaking her head at him.
She gestured broadly with her hands, raising her eyebrows, “You are proving his point, Ari.”
He scowled in response.
Confronted by her grin as time ticked away, a smile teased the corners of his mouth. Finally, rolling his eyes, he growled in acknowledgment. “All right, all right, point taken.”
Shaking his head, conceding defeat,
her warlord sprawled in his chair, the picture of relaxed composure. Lifting her hand, he kissed the back of it before returning it to his lap. The entire chamber let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Even Patricio managed a ragged smile.
Including
Elder Patricio in his sweeping look, Ari addressed the elders, “My sincere apologies for past ill-behavior, esteemed
L’anziano
. What would you have us do?”
* * * * *
Doral helped Ari straighten the sword belt and ornate gold scabbard hanging low across his hips. If Doral’s hands caressed his buttocks ever so slightly and lingered a little over-long there, Ari ignored it as he ignored the rapid thickening of his cock in response. Through much practice, ignoring his reaction to Doral was second nature—he just couldn’t get certain parts of his body to cooperate.
He eyed Doral covertly.
The visconte’s golden hair tumbled to his trim waist past broad shoulders covered with lean, long muscle. Multiple small braids restrained the hair at his temples. Form-fitting leather breeches and soft over-the-knee boots covered his high, tight buttocks and long, horseman's legs. They left no part of his anatomy below the waist to imagination. The full bulge in the front of Doral’s leathers had fired his imagination on many lonely, solitary nights. Worse, his erotic enthrallment was reciprocal. Ari had caught the heated, surreptitious glances Doral threw his way periodically.
Ari
disentangled the loops of gilt braid hanging from the epaulets on the shoulders of his dress uniform. “Damn things keep getting caught in the medals, Doral. I think the LFP uniforms are far more practical, a simple jumpsuit with bars of rank, no frippery for them.” He pulled his jacket down by its skirts and squared his shoulders, examining its fit in the mirror.
“
Our High Command greatly outshines our allies, sir.”
“
Yes,” Ari snorted, “a highly utilitarian feature. Blinded by the glare off our decorative accessories, our enemies fall before us.”
Choking off a laugh
, Doral turned and picked up two ornately wrought blades, holding them out in display. “Which will you wear, sir?”
Ari
eyed them. “Very handsome pieces, Doral; are they functional?”
Doral arched a brow.
“Of course. This blade is one I commissioned at your request from Master Iridian. The second, a gift from Major Truillo, is almost too fine a work of the blade maker’s art to bloody.”
“
Major Truillo?”
“
Major Truillo offered it to ‘commemorate your victory over the Haarb’ and as an expression of his ‘enduring affection’.”
Ari
rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “I should have done more to discourage the major’s ‘affections’.”
“
I would have handled that, had I known he was unwelcome.” For the space of three heartbeats, silence reigned. “Sir.” Doral tap-danced along the fine line of insubordination.
Ari
regarded Doral narrowly. “Doral, I harbor no interest in Major Truillo. There is only one other I desire with the same regard as my lovely princess. He possesses vastly greater appeal and is far more worthy of my attentions than Truillo.”
Doral looked away, his expression neutral.
Ari sighed to himself. A light chime sounded in the room as Ari flicked at the medallions adorning his chest. “By the gods, man, one of these medals should be for self-restraint. Keeping my hands off you for over a year has been my own personal hell.” Ari’s eyes drifted to his own bulging trouser front. “Doral, you are my subordinate. I would have a very hard time enforcing my orders if I violated them myself.”
Doral’s eyes
had followed Ari’s gaze. One corner of his mouth twitched upward. Blue eyes met hazel. “I have intimate knowledge about sexual violation by a superior officer. It was well done of you to put a stop to that abuse of rank.” Doral stepped away from him and broke eye contact. “You probably saved my life.”
“
The Lady Allegra Contradina was your previous superior officer.”
“
Allegra is a lethal, malevolent bitch.”
Doral’s normal reserve and disciplined self-possession made his bitter, venomous statement even more shocking.
His visconte closed his eyes and relaxed his stance, then took a deep, steady breath. When he continued, it was with his usual, calm poise.
“
Relations between House Contradina and House DeLorion have a bitter personal history.”
“
She said it
amused
her to put a DeLorion prince in his ‘proper place beneath her’.” Doral cleared his throat. “She taught me ten different ways to kill a man with my bare hands.” His voice became even more dispassionate. “And a hundred ways to inflict pain. I met her
particular
needs. She liked her sex rough, very, very rough.” Dropping his gaze, his voice hardened. “And that is all I wish to say about it.”
“
We need never speak of it again, Visconte.”
Doral nodded, remaining quiet for a few moments.
“My term of military service is over in four months.” He straightened his stance, squaring his shoulders. “My intention was to re-enlist. If I understand correctly, you would prefer I did not?” A hesitant, questioning smile transformed his striking features.
Ari
held Doral’s gaze steadily. He could feel the slight smile tipping his lips. “You understand me perfectly, Visconte DeLorion. I do
not
want you as my subordinate. I want you as my equal. I want you in my bed.”
Doral frowned.
“And Her Royal Highness? Where does she fit in?”
Ari
chose his words with care. “Doral, the
L’anziano
raised a fascinating possibility. Would you be willing to remain in Sylvan Mintoth in a much more—elevated—capacity? Say, that of
Segundo Signore
? As my and Her Royal Highness’ partner?”
The two blades Doral had been holding rang as they
fell to the floor.