the last harem boy

[maderr]

Because it's Friday, and Fridays deserve pointless, pretty things. Still a little rough, but only b/c I want to go through and polish them all up. <3



Rakiah

“Sir, your mother is requesting you slow down and stop trying to leave your family behind.”

“And here I thought I was succeeding, not merely trying.” Rakiah said with a smile, sharing a laugh with the tolerant guard. He glanced back toward the blue and gold palanquin in which his mother traveled, his father and brother on horseback on either side of her. She had them, why was his presence required as well?

Didn’t they know he was nervous enough without having to converse about the weather and how grandmother was being such a wretched beast again? Honestly, if he wasn’t so anxious he’d wish to be at the palace right now.

Unfortunately, even wishing such was the case wouldn’t change the fact that he still had one more day to fret over it.

One more day.

Would the King still remember him? Probably not. King Shahjahan had plenty to think about; he wouldn’t remember one silly, noisy kid.

Oh, why couldn’t it be over already?

Rakiah held his horse up and waited for the palanquin and company to catch up. The wind snatched at his hair and he just barely snatched back the ribbon it tried to take away, and rebound the waist-length mess with a vengeance.

He should have just braided it, but that would be doing what his mother wanted. Rakiah shook his head at himself and pulled up the head covering he’d discarded earlier – he hated them, but the sun and wind were bad enough, even away from the sands, that he had to concede defeat. But he really didn’t like how it limited his view.

Now all he could see without turning his head was the castle, only a day or so away.

Why did his parents have to drag it out? He knew they were. And he could see his brother laughing from here, the wretch. If he made one more joke, Rakiah was going to send him off his horse in the most humiliating way possible.

“Feeling restless, little brother?”

“Do you want me,” Rakiah asked pleasantly, “to remind you why I’m the better horseman?”

“Now, children,” their father said soothingly, though he was obviously trying not to laugh. “We can’t present hooligans to the king, so comport yourselves.”

“Yes, father.” Rakiah pointedly rode a bit ahead of them, choosing not to hear his mother’s command to stay beside his father. He was already going insane; did they want to break him before he got to see the King again?

And were they going to embarrass him? Oooh, he could just see his brother doing that.

Suddenly Rakiah wished they were still days and days away, so he had time to find a place to lose his brother. And his parents.



“Now remember what I told you, Kiah. Behave.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kiah repeated dutifully, tugging at his stupid hair. Why’d mom have to braid it like a girl’s hair – and began to think about what he’d do once brother was finished being – whatever it was. He’d go back to that cool fountain, and talk to the guards…

“Kiah!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Kiah said, jumping. “I’ll behave.”

“Somehow I doubt it,” his mother said, but she was making that funny face that meant she’d start laughing when he couldn’t hear. “But I told you to go stand with daddy. Remember – no talking, no fidgeting. We want all the grown ups to think you’re a good boy.”

Kiah nodded and wished he was already playing in the big, pretty fountain he’d seen before. Like the one in the square back home that dad was always complaining was too much.

Dad was always going on about something, which made no sense since he usually seemed pretty happy at the same time. And mom just nodded and said ‘yes, dear’.

God, this was all his brother’s fault. He was going to push him in the fountain for the braided hair and the stupid clothes and now he had to stand in front of a bunch of grown ups and listen to them go on and on and on just like at the stupid meetings dad was always having and then had to come in and say hello and

“Kiah!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Uh-oh, that wasn’t a ‘I’m going to laugh later’ look. That was a ‘you’re about to get it’ look. Kiah hurried along, catching up to and walking beside his father, who kept a hand on his ever-wandering son. He hated his stupid robes, all long and hot and stuffy and he was going to trip he bet, right in front of everyone.

Why did he have to go? “Dad, why do I—“

“Shh, Kiah. Not right now.”

Kiah gave a long, loud sigh but subsided. There was no making them listen when there was Big Important Stuff to do. Like brother being all weird. Why couldn’t they just leave him with Night Dancer?

Brother was so going in the fountain, even if did earn him a sore rear afterwards.

The hand on his shoulder tightened as warning as they entered a long room, packed with all sort of people – fancy people, plain people, scary people. Immediately bored, because he couldn’t go ask all the people questions, Kiah looked around for something more interesting to look at.

His eyes flitted toward the front, even as he bowed and spoke as he’d been instructed to – tortured really.

Oh wow. His hair wasn’t as pretty as that. So long. It went on forever.

It was even prettier than Night Dancer’s mane after dad helped him brush it over and over again.

Kiah felt someone pinch him, and realized he was supposed to be bowing. Hastily he did so, but not before he saw the man next to the pretty one with long hair looking at him. He had the same funny face mom did when she was trying not to laugh after he ‘wreaked havoc everywhere.’ And he looked like one of the heroes from the books mom used to read so he’d get bored and fall asleep.

Except he was in the stupid court instead of on a horse fighting sand monsters. Kiah thought the sand monsters would be cooler than listening to brother be all weird and have to bow up and down and up and down.

“Ow,” he accidentally said when mom pinched him again.

It got him another pinch, and Kiah tried to stop thinking about heroes on horses and the man with the long, pretty hair. Up, down, brother and dad talk, then up and down again.

Then they were finally going back out, away from the stupid court – even though he was a little sad he wouldn’t get to see the hero and pretty-hair man again.

As soon as he got out of the stupid clothes, he was so pushing brother in the fountain.


“Forget how to walk, Kiah?”

Kiah looked at the knowing grin on his brother’s face and wiped it out with a swift kick to the shins. “No,” he said, not really liking the shake in his voice. He really wished this part was already over.

He smoothed the front of his dark red robes and resisted the urge to fiddle with the ribbon holding his hair back – at least it wasn’t braided. Honestly, why couldn’t she just be happy braiding her own hair?

Realizing he was scowling, Kiah smoothed the expression from his face and took a deep breath. There was no reason to be this nervous; none at all.

“You’re forgetting how to walk again,” his brother said with a laugh. “Honestly, you’re worse than a woman on her wedding day.”

“Do you want to get dunked in the fountain again?” Kiah asked icily. “Because I remember exactly where it is and I’ve only gotten better while you’re getting fatter.”

“Oh, shut up.” His brother laughed.

Kiah kicked him again, then turned away as his parents finally joined them in hallway.

“Ready, Kiah?” His mother asked.

“Yes,” Kiah managed.

Gods he just wanted it over with, whatever humiliation he had coming. There was no way the King remembered him. Or Nandakumar. It was stupid. He wouldn’t need Kiah for anything, not by now. There must be hundreds better than him, with far more everything than someone who spent his time raising horses far from any city.

He wasn’t sure what was worse – that the King had forgotten him, or that he remembered but wouldn’t be able – or want – to keep his promise to give Kiah a place in the palace.

It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten anything. Kiah didn’t think a full stomach would be a good thing to have right now.

He knew the ceremony by heart as he filed alongside his family into the courtroom, and refused to let his eyes wander toward the throne until he had no choice, as they knelt to kowtow in greeting, starting the ceremony of formally presenting him to the court, acknowledging he was old enough to be a real part of the adult world.

Kiah finally allowed himself to look up.

The King Shahjahan in his memory had been a hero to worship, someone for whom he would someday do noble deeds, astride the greatest horse to ever live. But the Shahjahan before him now was not a hero to worship – the King was definitely every rumor Kiah had ever heard. Handsome and male and not good for his peace of mind at all.

And there was Nandakumar, smile faint but there, hair still so long and pretty. But the starry eyes of a child had been replaced by a young man who wanted to touch it for different reasons entirely.

Oh, he didn’t need this. Not what he’d been expecting at all. Kiah focused on what was being said and not the turmoil in his own head.

“Rakiah,” Shahjahan said warmly, jarring him. “I saw your name on the list of presentations and was glad. I had thought it was about time we saw you again.

Kiah struggled to remember how to speak, and finally found his tongue when his mother pinched him – hard. “Majesty,” he bowed low. “I am honored you recall me.”

“Did I not promise I would, Rakiah? You have grown up well.”

“Thank you, Majesty. I am honored you think so.” He dared another look up, but couldn’t bear to do it for long. It just…hurt. Had he felt this way the whole time? That was silly. He’d only been a child. Children didn’t fall…into such things.

“I’m rather undecided as to what to do you with, Rakiah.” The voice drew his head up, despite Kiah’s efforts to keep it down. “Regretfully, you’ve arrived on a busy morning. But I welcome you warmly to court, and to your full life. Go for now, and enjoy the entirety of my palace. We will talk again later.”

“Yes, Majesty. Thank you.” Kiah fled as quickly as decorum would allow him.

“Well,” his mother said with one of her frowns. “That wasn’t quite what I had expected.”

“Rather quiet after all the waiting,” his father agreed. “Well, Kiah?”

Kiah looked up at the sound of his name, and stared blankly at his expectant family. Then said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m going for a ride,” and ran to his room to change. He expected someone to shout after him, if not stop him, but no one did.



“Look at the horses! Dad, can I do that?” Kiah scrambled up the railing to better see the men and horses practice.

He and Night Dancer could do it easy. It would be just like the one at home, only bigger and better. “Come on, Dad. Can I? I’ll go get Night Dancer!” He jumped down and turned to run for the stables.

His dad grabbed the collar of his roes. “Kiah.”

Oh, not that tone.

“I said I would show you the royal horses. This isn’t a place for you to play. Now watch like a good boy or we’ll go back to our rooms.”

“Yes, sir.” Kiah gave a long sigh and climbed back up, watching the men and horses avidly, memorizing everything they did, determined to imitate them all the minute he got Night Dancer back. “Dad, please. You know I can do it! Please!”

His father laughed. “I would if I could, Kiah. But that’s not mine, and I don’t have permission to let you try it. Besides,” he winked. “Your mother would kill me.”

“Darn mom,” Kiah grumbled, and draped himself over the gate. “Not fair.”

Laughter broke into his moping, and Kiah turned around to see who was laughing at him. His eyes went wide. Oh. Oh. Oh. It was the hero from earlier! And he had the pretty-hair man with him. Kiah scrambled off the fence and moved to stand near his dad, stealing looks but trying not to stare – mom always yelled at him for that.

“Do you like horses?” The hero asked.

Kiah nodded his head furiously.

“Tell me about yours.”

Kiah looked up, surprised, then looked at his dad.

“Go ahead, Kiah.”

He didn’t need any further prodding, and launched into telling the hero all about his horse – just the right size for him, black as night, faster than even some of the big horses, dad said he’s good stock. “And I can do our obstacle course perfectly every single time. Even the high jumps that Red Sky won’t try.”

The hero laughed. “What is your name?”

Kiah looked to his dad again, nervous, because usually people only asked his name right before they started yelling at him. But his dad nodded and smiled, so Kiah told him. “Rakiah.”

“Rakiah,” the hero said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kiah said, remembering what mom had taught him.

“My name is Shahjahan.” He put his hand on the arm of the pretty-hair man. “This is Nandakumar.”

“Nandakumar,” Kiah repeated. “Shahjahan.”

The hero laughed. “Yes.”

“Majesty,” his father said sharply. “Call him ‘your Majesty’”

Oh, that tone was Trouble. Kiah nodded his head, bobbing it up and down rapidly. “Yes, sir. Your Majesty.”

Shahjahan laughed again. “Would you like to try the course?”

“Oh! Could I?” Kiah looked at him in disbelief.

“If your father says you may.”

His dad laughed. “Like I could say no now. If the King says you may, then of course you can, Kiah.” He bowed. “Thank you, Majesty.” He gave Kiah a Look. “Now bow, and then go get your horse. Make sure you mind your manners.”

“Yes, sir!” Kiah bowed hastily then dashed off.


Kiah took full advantage of the permission granted to use the entirety of the castle – and even had he been confined to his rooms, he would have snuck off to run the training course. Summer Storm took to it exactly as he had known he would; Kiah felt a pang for the horse he’d first ridden this track on – Night Dancer had died two years ago, adoring and hard working ‘til the end.

But Summer Storm did it more splendidly than even his faithful first horse, light and quick. Fluid jumps, and Kiah knew his horse was the equal of any in the palace.

“Come on, Summer,” he urged quietly but eagerly as they reached the only jump that Night Dancer had not been able to take. But Summer Storm seemed barely to notice, as eager as he – and took it well. Kiah laughed in delight and pulled on the reins. Summer Storm reared up, making him laugh all the more before he let her cool down by circling the ring.

It was only as he passed it, lying on the hard-packed dirt, that he realized the ribbon had come out of his hair. How he hadn’t noticed, Kiah didn’t know – but then he seldom noticed anything when he was riding.

Nor did he notice the men until he reached them, attention exclusively for his horse.

Three of them, all bare-chested. Unmistakable sign of the King’s harem.

He really was an idiot, being knotted up over a king who had men like that at his fingertips. According to the law, now that he was twenty one and formally presented to the court, Kiah was a full adult – but he suddenly felt still very much a kid.

Hiding with his horse when the real world was more than he could take.

“You ride horses like Nanda plays music,” said the first man. His grin was the sort his mother liked to call troublesome – his dad always said that meant she really liked it, and that it was only trouble because she let them get away with stuff. His hair was short, and he had a more relaxed manner about him than the other two.

The second had shoulder length hair and skin not quite as dark as the first man’s. He was…still, even as he too smiled at Kiah. “A fine horse. I think it puts some of the royal stock to shame. What’s his name?”

Kiah realized belatedly, horrified, that he was still mounted. He scrambled off his horse and ducked his head in a belated bow. “His name is Summer Storm.”

“You don’t have to bow to these clowns,” the third man said, laughing at their replies. He was exotic, nothing like the few foreigners Kiah had seen before. His skin was almost white, and his hair was like pale gold. Eyes the color of the sky.

Kiah looked away when he realized he was staring.

“Where did you learn to ride like that?”

“Um…my dad says he put me on a horse one day because he couldn’t think of anything else to do that would keep me out of trouble.”

All three men laughed, nudging and shoving each other as jokes and jeers flew between them.

Kiah felt ugly next to them. His hair was a mess, he was in older clothes so his mother wouldn’t screech about him ruining his new stuff – and he’d abandoned his robe for just pants and undershirt.

Nine years he’d waited for this…meeting? Reunion? And so far all he’d gotten was ten minutes with his ‘hero’ and ‘pretty hair’, the realization that his worship had been a childhood crush and now it was an adult crush – and now it was being rubbed in his face just exactly why that crush was hopeless.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. “Am I keeping you from the training ground?”

“Hah!” The middle man exclaimed. “I’d like to see Bey stay on a horse for more than five seconds.”

“And you’re a master horseman, my decadent monk? I’d say Witcher and Shah are the only ones that wouldn’t embarrass themselves on one of those beasts.” He motioned to the foreigner. “Any good with a horse, Witcher?” Bey grinned suddenly. “Or are you only good for m—“ His words were drowned out by a grunt of pain as an elbow drove into his gut. “What was that for, Aik?”

Aik glared at him. “Behave.”

“You’re a fine one to talk.”

“Both of you knock it off. I think you’re scaring him.” Witcher smiled kindly at Kiah. “They’re always like this. You get used to it – or at least learn how to shut them up.”

Bey grinned. “Are you going to shut me up now?”

“Not that way, I’m not.”

“That’s no fun.”

Kiah wondered if he could just go. As amusing as they would be ordinarily, every word and gesture and look between them just reinforced that it wasn’t something he’d ever have. It was, he realized bitterly, something of a relief that it had taken this long to realize what he wanted. Hadn’t had enough time to get attached to the idea.

Though it certainly felt like he was attached to it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said quietly. “I need to take care of my horse.” And he turned away before they could keep him there – assuming, of course, that they wanted to. Which, he had to admit, was wishful thinking.

Kiah hurried across the course, pausing only to retrieve his lost ribbon before he vanished into the stable and began to take care of Summer Storm. “Some idiot I am, huh Summer?” Kiah asked, resting against his side. “How much dumber can I get?” Pushing away from his horse, Kiah left Summer to his dinner and steeled himself to go back to his rooms.

Where his parents would know he was upset and frown and mom would fuss – and as soon as they left the beatings would commence, because that was the only way his brother would finally shut up and stop teasing him. Which Kiah knew he was going to do.

He wondered how long he had to wait before they’d let him slink away home. There was just no way he could stay, even if the King gave him a place in the stables.


“You ride beautifully, Rakiah.”

Kiah grinned. “Yeah! Night Dancer taught me! And dad.”

Shahjahan laughed “They both taught you very well. I have soldiers that don’t ride half that well. I should have you come back when you’re older and teach them.” He smiled.

“I can come back?”

“Kiah,” his father said in the Tone. “Your manners are terrible. Say thank you, don’t ask for more favors.”

“Yes, sir.” Kiah said, frowning at being yelled at. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

“You’re very welcome. You should come back when you’re older, Rakiah. I would like to see how much you improve.”

Kiah grinned. “I’m going to be the best! Even better than everyone that comes to our dumb ol’ contest.”

“Kiah!” The Tone again. Some of Kiah’s smile faded as he realized he was going to get A Talking To when they got back to the room.

An unfamiliar laugh kept his father from saying more, and Kiah stared at the pretty-haired man. What was his name? Nan-nan—nan..da! Nandakumar! He’d made him laugh. Was that a good thing?

“I think Nanda agrees with you, Rakiah. When you turn twenty-one you shall have to return and show me how great you’ve become. If you want, I will give you a place here. How does that sound?”

Kiah could only stare, until his father shook him hard by the shoulder and then he remembered to say ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘your majesty’ and go up and down a whole lot.

Just wait until he told brother this. Maybe he wouldn’t even push him in the fountain now.


Kiah halted as he realized there was someone else in the stables. “You still ride quite beautifully, or so I am told. I hope Bey and the others did not scare you away. They were told to behave,” Shahjahan said with a smile. “But Bey especially tends not to.”

“M-Majesty.” Kiah bowed his head. “I’m sorry – am I in the way? I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Shahjahan’s smile faded into concern. “Of course you’re not in the way. I did say you had complete access to the castle. Has someone displeased you?”

“No, Majesty.” Kiah looked up, confused. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm…” Shahjahan said, and moved closer. “Yet even when you were presented, you seemed unhappy. Perhaps it’s simply that you’ve grown quiet over the years.” His smile returned. “I’m afraid my memory is of a rather talkative, colorful child.”

“Colorful?” Kiah blinked at the adjective. “I think my mother would say you’re being nice about it.”

Shahjahan laughed. “So you have not grown quiet with adulthood.”

“I guess not,” Kiah said, and managed a genuine smile of his own. “Majesty,” he thought to add belatedly.

Which only made Shahjahan laugh more. “So, my Rakiah. Are horses what you would like to have at my palace? Is there another post you would prefer? From all I have heard you would make a fine trainer. Your beauty there is fine indeed.”

“Summer Storm?” Kiah asked. “He’s my pride and joy. There’s no better horse.”

“I believe it.” Shahjahan stepped closer, into his space, and Kiah wondered when the stables had gotten so small. “So what were you hoping to have when you returned to my palace, Rakiah?”

Kiah shook his head. “I hadn’t thought past returning. I wasn’t even sure you’d remember some idiot kid who couldn’t shut up.”

“Few children around the palace are as charming as you were, Rakiah.”

He really wished Shahjahan would stop saying his name like that. Like it was…significant. Special.

“If I were a less selfish man,” Shahjahan said, and he reached out to touch Kiah’s hair, brush it off his shoulder. “I would place you here, and see what magic you could work with my horses. But I’m afraid I’m rather more selfish than most realize, and so I was hoping to keep you for myself.”

Kiah stared, feeling very much like he was a gawking twelve-year old kid. Except at twelve he would have had no idea what the King was implying. At twenty-one, he knew exactly and wasn’t quite sure he could believe it.

“But I don’t think your family would be too happy with me.”

Thoughts of his family tricked a smile to his face, and Kiah rallied his flagging nerves. “My father will be mad to lose a good slave, but my mother will like the peace and quiet and I’m sure my brother will have to be dumped into the fountain again.”

Shahjahan laughed and opened his arms, and Kiah found that stepping into them and leaning up to meet his King’s kiss was far easier and possible than he had dared to hope.





Epilogue


“I think this is the first time we’ve had a private dinner since Kiah joined us,” Nanda said thoughtfully as he knelt on a large, soft mat set out for him in the middle of the room. His hair, loosely bound, fanned out around and behind him. Wine was set nearby, and Nanda sipped at it before picking up his instrument and settling it in his lap.

Shah smiled as he settled back into the pile of cushions and pillows arranged for him on the long, wide rug that covered the majority of the floor. Stretched out along his side was Witcher, eyes closed as he relaxed, one arm stretched across Shah’s chest. “I think it is, and long past time we had one. We’ve had more than enough court for a bit, especially Kiah I’d imagine. When was the last time we did this?”

“Far too long ago,” Witcher said with a yawn, settling in closer, content to half-doze while the others played and talked. He smiled faintly as Shah teased his skin or played with his hair, but otherwise did not stir.

In the center, Nanda finished tuning his instrument and began to play a quiet, cheerful tune. He kept his eyes open, trusting his fingers to play while he conversed with Shah on the events of the day.

On either side of a small table, Aik and Bey were drinking. Rather than sipping leisurely at wine, they drank a dark amber liquid, emptying the shallow drinking dishes in one swallow. “Come, Kiah.” Bey motioned him over. “Don’t stand over there all night. Come play with us.”

“Hmph.” Nanda paused in a recounting of some incident to eye them disdainfully. He glanced at Kiah, expression a gentle warning. “Don’t be as foolish as those two. It’s far more amusing to watch them in their drunken stupor than to join them.”

Bey made a face. “You’re just mad because you can’t hold your liquor.”

“I would rather have my dignity,” Nanda replied tartly.

Aik threw his head back and laughed. “You can’t argue that, Bey.”

“No,” Bey said solemnly. Then he grinned and held out his dish. “But I can drink to it.”

Chuckling, Aik complied and refilled it and his own. He motioned at Kiah, who remained at the edge of the rug. “Coming?”

“He’s only been here two months, Aik.” Witcher opened one eye. “Don’t attempt to corrupt him too much yet.”

Bey snorted. “So says the happily corrupted witch.”

“Be quiet,” Witcher said, but retreated, cheeks flushed.

Kiah laughed and finally moved to sit down in front of them.

Aik held his own dish, refilled, to Kiah’s lips. “Drink quickly or you’ll have a hard time breathing.”

Though he did as instructed, Kiah still wound up doubled over, coughing and gasping for air. Aik and Bey laughed as they helped him, and even Shah chuckled as Kiah slowly recovered.

Nanda rolled his eyes. “And here I thought he might be one of the intelligent ones.” Beneath his fingers, a playful spring dance shifted to the sharper, shifting tones of a ship lost at sea. “Never drink with a pirate.”

“Or a monk,” Witcher added.

Shah chuckled. “What does it mean, do you suppose, that a monk and a pirate get along so splendidly?”

“That someone needs to look more closely at what the monks do with their time?” Nanda posed as he shifted into a tune of his own composition, derived from the holy chants Aik occasionally recited in his morning prayers.

Aik and Bey laughed.

“Want to try again, colt?” Bey asked, offering his own dish.

Kiah hesitated, eyes still burning from his first try.

“Hmm…” Aik looked at Bey, expression sly. “Perhaps we should play….”

Bey grinned. “Winner gets to? Or loser has to?”

“Winner gets to, I think.” Aik said after a moment. “There’s no way he’d be brave enough for loser yet.”

Kiah frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“Because,” Shah said with a laugh. “The first thing they challenge the other to do involves aggravating Nanda in some way.”

Nanda made a face at all of them and said nothing.

“Hmmm…” Kiah frowned. “I think I probably should have listened to Nanda.” He grinned as the room erupted in laughter.

Aik and Bey exchanged another look. “Well, we’ll play. You can watch and learn, and play next time.”

“So loser has to?” Bey asked.

“Of course,” Aik said calmly as he refilled their dishes. “But let’s save Nanda for last this time, since that’s ‘the first thing we always do’.”

“So what shall it be?”

Aik tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Loser has to…steal Witcher from Shah.”

“Go ahead and try,” Witcher said lazily.

“Mmm, a challenge.”

Kiah laughed. “You sound like you want to lose. What does the winner get, whenever you finish?”

“The top,” Bey and Aik said together, smirking at each other before they tossed back their drinks and began the game.

Witcher opened his eyes again. “Nanda’s right – ignore those clowns. They’ve only just begun. Come sit with us, before they find a way to make you part of the game.”

Aik and Bey laughed, but did not stop racing to see who could finish their bottle first.

Obediently, Kiah rose and moved to where Shah and Witcher reclined, hesitating until Shah reached up and pulled him down until he had one man on either side of him. “A witch and a colt,” he said. “A musician and—“

“Two drunken louts,” Nanda interrupted, rolling his eyes as Aik and Bey erupted into laughter over something one of them had said.

Shah laughed. “I think you’re hurt they picked Witcher over you for the first challenge.”

Nanda tossed his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His fingers tripped across the strings, pulling out a sharp tune that was part of a song recounting a bitter fight between former lovers. “It simply aggravates me they think these nights are meant for getting drunk.”

“When else can we do it?” Aik asked, grimacing as he set his empty bottle down one drink behind Bey. “Should we shift our challenge back to the more traditional?”

Bey grinned and together they crawled across the floor and attacked Nanda, setting his instrument carefully aside before setting to work on turning his threats and curses into moans and pleas.

Kiah felt his face heat, torn between wanting to watch as Aik and Bey had their way with Nanda, and feeling like he was seeing something he shouldn’t. Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, making him jump, and Kiah looked up in time to meet Shah’s mouth, spicy warm, only adding to the spinning in his head put there by the alcohol. “Dizzy,” he muttered when Shah pulled away, and clung to his King.

“Hmm, I think we shall have to limit how often those two are allowed to let you drink with them.” Shah chuckled.

“Poor colt,” Witcher said with a smile, leaning across Shah to take Kiah’s mouth for himself, fingers playing in his long hair. “Those two play too rough for you.”

Bey laughed as he dropped down along Witcher, half-pinning him to the pile of cushions and pillows, soaked in the smell of sex. “Too rough, pale witch?” He nipped at Witcher’s throat, one hand tugging at the gold hoops on his chest. “I’m pretty sure last night you asked for more.”

Sky blue eyes gleamed with challenge. “I said too rough for him. You’ve yet to play too rough with me, pirate.”

Eyes flashing, Bey leaned down to meet the challenge – only to be roughly yanked away and thrown to the floor. Aik stole his place over Witcher. “I believe, pirate, that the game went ‘loser has to steal Witcher’ not winner gets to.”

“I suspect you’re cheating,” Bey said, sitting up. “But I can’t quite tell how. Fine, monk, just remember who won.”

Kiah squashed the urge to yelp as Bey surged toward him, and scrambled away from the pile as he wound up going for Shah, who only laughed and matched Bey touch for touch.

“They’re all rather rough and rowdy aren’t they?” Nanda said, laughing in his quiet way. He motioned for Kiah to join him, and brushed the hair from his face once Kiah sat down. “Some wine?” he said. “Luckily those fools didn’t spill it.” But even Kiah didn’t miss the pleased flush to Nanda’s cheeks.

He accepted the wine quietly and sipped at it, still feeling awkward even after two months to know quite what to say to the man he’d long thought of as ‘pretty-hair’ – especially when he was trying not to stare at the other four.

Nanda chuckled softly and took Kiah’s chin, leaning in to nibble and lap and nip teasingly at Kiah’s lips until he started laughing, surprised and amused. “That’s much better,” Nanda said with one of his whisper smiles, then gently took the wine away and tugged Kiah close to kiss him properly, tasting like bitter wine and sweet berries. “Pretty Kiah,” Nanda murmured, pressing him to the floor. “And so very willing.”

“Not half as pretty as you,” Kiah said shyly.

“Of that I wouldn’t be too sure,” Nanda said, fingers playing across his skin, loosing the ties that kept his skirt and pants in place. “What say we show the barbarians how dignified men play, hmmm?”

Kiah could only nod, and let Nanda guide him, all too aware of the other four men nearby.

“You have good taste, Shah.” Bey grinned, freeing his King to Witcher and snatching Aik close.

“Yes, I do.” Shah said with a smile.