Chapter 45

Seneya stood on numb legs and made her way to the cabin’s kitchen table, where the two bottles of whisky from before lay. The strange sensations the tatsuli sent through her overpowered everything else. She should have been feeling pain, and she waited for it, but the sensations just comforted her, grounded her, and nothing else. She grabbed one bottle, then the other, and rummaged through some of the fruit Kael brought in, grabbing an apple. The two bottles clinked by the neck with each step she took. Kael grinned over at her with glassine eyes.

Seneya rolled her eyes. “You’re drunk.”

“Not in tha least!” Kael laughed, slurring his words. “Just feelin’ tha pain.” He flopped face-first to the ground with a groan. “Wake me up when the ass gets here.”

Seneya eyed the half-full bottle in his hand, and her lips twisted. Memories dappled at the surface of her mind, silkily pulling a veil over the moment as a memory played out.

Long slender pale legs draped in the blue silk of fine sheets spread about her. Hair, blonde as cornsilk, spilled out in trailing rivers, framing her bare form. She stretched out in a languid shudder and felt every fold of the fabric touch the most sensual areas of her shapely form.

A boy, barely a man by the standards of their people, slipped into her field of vision, bottle in hand, blocking the view of an ornate and expansive bedroom bedecked in sheer wall-hangings and white marble. The scent of bitter cocoa took sharp hold of her mind, tainted with the acrid odor of coffee. It sent a pang of electric heat deep into her core.

“Tuval.” The words came from unfamiliar lips, her own, a voice husky and rich with lust. Brown hair spilled over broad shoulders and a gently rounded face sculpted from years of smiles.

“Esca,” he whispered back to her, letting embroidered grey robes slide down over his solid chest to rest at his elbows. The sight of his unmarked form seemed strange yet welcoming as he pushed his way towards her and let his robe fall slack at his feet. Her eyes migrated with a certain lasciviousness to the disheveled linens he wore beneath and the thumb that hooked dangerously into their windings.

Her bed, a stone platform with bare padding and glorious sheets, seemed so vast when he approached, putting so much distance between her body and his. She sought his wholeness, and as his form pushed up and into her bed, she turned into his warmth, their lips closing in to press softly.

“I found you,” He whispered when he finally pulled away from her, and the eyes that stared back at her glimmered the same cornflower blue as Kael’s. The brown hair started to shift into black.

Seneya shook her head, dispelling the memory, and stared with a flat-lipped wide-eyed gaze at the ground.

“Yeah, not even trying to unpack all that,” Seneya muttered before twisting her lips.

Sael stood in her path, eyes searching her own. “Unpack all what, Starling?”

She had spoken English, and Sael repeated her words back to her.

“Nothing. My mind is wandering.” Seneya turned to him, his pale icy blue tired gaze locked onto her own, questioning her presence.

“You look as if you remembered something painful.” Sael’s smile went soft, a tender thing that curled over his sharp features and drew her closer to him. He extended a single welcoming arm, and she approached without hesitation, almost surprised to find him sweeping her into his form. The scent of his ault registered with her for the first time, cloves and blood, rich fragrance, and food. Her mouth watered, and she surrendered to the half-hug as his hand gently squeezed over her shoulder. Twin clinks sounded out, and their eyes migrated to one another’s hands to see their bottles. Something halted her in his scent, a needle’s prick to her brain.

“You two quit preening over there!” Kael wheezed a breath of delight, and Sael glanced over his fresh Tatsuli.

Sael and Seneya pulled apart.

“Well, he’s not drunk at least.” Sael huffed a laugh as they both moved in to settle near him.

The tatsuli sat abandoned, the brush laying in the grass by the cup.

“Has he given you a taste yet?” Sael asked curiously.

“Yep!” Kael answered for her, “You or Dee can give her the rest.”

“Hurt, didn’t it?” Sael’s prideful grin splayed across his teeth.

Kael took a shuddering breath and stretched out before standing on jellied legs. “Good of a time as ever to go get in the creek for a minute.” He grumbled, leaving her and Sael alone as he stumbled off.

“Not really,” She muttered in response to Sael.

“I don’t know what surprises me more, your reaction or him willingly going to bathe.” Sael lifted his lip with a sharp curl.

“Honestly, I’m surprised, too.” Seneya’s eyes spanned their glade and focused on Kael’s stumbling form.

She stared down at the tatsuli, and Sael picked up the brush.

“The pain of it lingers for a while. It reminds you of the creator’s ink and the pain we suffered at its hands.” Sael projected his soft words, lifting pleading eyes as he searched her face for something.

“I don’t think it works that way for me,” Seneya spoke quietly, pulling her knees to her chest.

Sael glanced over the light dusting of freckles across her arms and saw the single dot of black on her flesh.

“Why not?”

“I—” Seneya started but tore her eyes away from him. The uncomfortable memory wouldn’t quit nagging at her.

“Did it hurt too much?” Sael leaned closer to her; worry painted across his face.

Seneya tried to shake the haunting image of those blue eyes and the kiss she shared. A strong odor flitted at her senses, another scent over Sael’s robes other than his own, one that elicited a twitch of heat in her belly. The needle’s prick to her brain. She knew instinctively that that scent did not belong to Sael. She leaned closer to him and sniffed lightly.

“Do I smell bad? I was bathed this morning.” Sael lifted his shoulder and sniffed lightly.

“No, just… there’s another smell on you, and it’s… bitter, like coffee and cocoa,” Seneya’s cheeks dappled pink, and Sael’s eyes went wide.

“I’ve been around a lot of people today, and you’re not used to it. It must be overwhelming.” Sael laughed it off casually and stood, pitching to his feet with an agile slide so that he could shake free of his outfit. The top of it sat like a tunic, trailing to his knees with a split up the back and front. He detached a sash at his waist and the sides of it cleaved apart, and he tossed it off far away from them.

His chest was slighter than Kael’s, less broad and developed, bust still carved from the same creamed coffee stone. The black of his arms didn’t go up as far as Kael’s, stopping just above his elbows. He slipped his pants free, kicking them off with his shoes in much the same way, the pressed black linen crumpled and took the strange scent with it.

“Yeah…” She shuddered, watching the clothes fly off. It wasn’t until he pulled something from his head, a silver circlet, that she realized he’d even worn a crown, and the glint of it flying across the way startled her.

“There!” Sael grinned and sat back down. Unlike Kael’s, his linens were black but more intricately tied. Seneya felt a little shame for her own tyings—simple things. Despite how much less tatsuli Sael had, what he had contrasted fresh and sharp, and some of it quite intricate as the bands of it rose up over his elbow. Dark bands around his fingers caught her eye, alternating and strange—full of some hidden meaning.

“What are those for?” Seneya asked, and Sael brought his hand over to her, holding it out for her inspection. She liked his hands and took it into her own. Her bright eyes, full of fascination, slid over the sharp details.

“Well, it hurts so badly that people want to sometimes remove what is hurting, and well, having it on your fingers with sharp detail shows your mettle,” Sael turned his hand over in her grasp and stared at how perfect and clean the lines were.

“Should I get them?” Seneya glanced at her own fingers, then pressed her hand up against his.

“Nah. These are more of a thing for men. Women are more tolerant of pain. As child-bearers, they need not prove anything. Sometimes we use them as litmus for certain things. I know a healer that uses them to show his pain tolerance to patients, so they don’t feel bad.”

“Why would they feel bad?” Seneya tilted her head.

“…You’ve not healed much, have you?” Sael asked.

She shook her head. She’d only healed herself and Kael of a few minor things.

“You’ll feel their pain.” He left it at that, quiet. Seneya tilted her head in confusion but didn’t correct him. Healing didn’t feel that bad at all.

“What should I get, then?”

Seneya peered at her freckled bare arms and then to his blacked forearms.

“I think a few bands, something simple, a curl here.” He trailed a finger around her upper arm. “It’s all meant to decorate and reflect who you are. You are quiet and honest, hardworking, and easily amused. Yet, beneath the sadness you have, there is a frightening kindness and dedication.” Sael quieted as she averted her eyes.

“Kael said that we might could cover my scar here,” Seneya touched over her left shoulder at the knotted white skin there. Sael rubbed over the scar and let his hand slide down a little, allowing his fingers to graze her elbow. His eyes unfocused, his mind lost in thought, and something within Seneya’s mind whispered in her ear.

Brother. Fear laced the voice in her mind with a delicate whisper.

“I don’t know if you can handle it.” Sael teased, pulling his hand away as she tensed up. Seneya had swinging moments of hot and cold, he realized, warming up to him and pulling away.

“I don’t think it works right.” Her lips twisted, and pink crept over her cheeks again.

“Why?” Sael pressed her, reaching over to invade her space and teasingly tug at her hand. With an arm across her vision and a male’s warmth impeding her, she momentarily flinched. He pulled away quite quickly, apology in her eyes.

A soft whimper escaped her lips as a dark chuckle rang out. Kael shook his hair free, letting drops of water rain about him. “Because she’s an amarar.”

“I—see—” Sael choked out… “And you would allow me to do your tatsuli, then?” Sael tried to keep his reaction austere and flat.

“I… I guess.” Seneya twisted her lips.

“Father… do you keep any Amesta around?” Sael cleared his throat and stood abruptly.

“Yeah, probably a few bottles in my room. Why? You getting a little attached?” Kael teased at him, and the dark look he shot back could wither.