Wisteria and her husband were petitioning. Again.

They had come to Gracehaven, where there were more physical healers than any other city in Newlant. They were currently at the Salvation House of Well-Being. Nikola had already been reevaluated by Lord Winston Andehlson, while Lady Michelle Hallsworth did the same for Wisteria, in the healer’s private office. It was a small but comfortable room, arranged more like a parlor than an office, with cosy chairs and paintings on the wall of hunting scenes: greatcats stalking a deer in a forest, bowmen drawing on ducks flying over a marsh.

Lady Michelle was not Newlant’s most renowned healer for the treatment of fertility issues. That was Lady Penelope, and Wisteria had already seen her. As well as the two healers Lady Penelope had recommended.

Wisteria stood with her dress unbuttoned to the hips and spread open, exposing her underbodice, the top of her small clothes, and the slight curves of her boyish frame. Lady Michelle, a stout Newlanture woman of middle height, sat before her in a chair, eyes closed, cheek resting lightly on Wisteria’s bare abdomen. The position was by Wisteria’s request. Those Blessed for physical healing could sense illness, deformity, and disease by touching skin-to-skin with any part of the body. But Nikola said his perception of minds improved if he touched his head to the head of the afflicted, and as he understood it, physical healers were affected in the same way. The Blessed typically touched their hand to the petitioner’s hand instead, because improved perception seldom made a difference and touching hands was more dignified. Still, if there was any chance it would help, Wisteria wanted to take it. A little awkwardness was nothing. Really, it was no more awkward than being fitted for a dress. Minutes passed. Wisteria waited, contemplating a costs-benefits analysis of some new refining equipment Byron had recommended for the Vasilver-Fireholt mining project.

All right, perhaps it was more awkward than being fitted for a dress. Wisteria had gone through this a few times already, though. She’d gotten used to it.

After a good fifteen minutes – Wisteria could not fault the woman’s thoroughness, in any case – Lady Michelle leaned back in her chair. She tilted her head up to smile at Wisteria. “You are the picture of health, Mrs. Striker. There is nothing wrong with your reproductive organs, or any other part of you, that would impair your ability to conceive.”

The same answer the last five healers had given her. “But it’s been over a year and a half,” Wisteria said. “We’ve been trying for more than eighteen months. Everyone says there’s nothing wrong with Lord Nikola, and nothing wrong with me. Why am I not pregnant yet?”

Lady Michelle’s smile faded. “Sometimes you just get unlucky, Mrs. Striker. It’ll come.”

“Could there be something wrong with the way we’re engaging in intercourse?”

The healer coughed. “I am sure your husband knows what he’s doing.”

“How can you be sure? It’s not as if you’ve seen us have intercourse.” None of the healers she’d seen so far had been willing to consider this possibility, or discuss any details. People were so maddening.

“I’m sure – well – all right, tell me what you do.”

Delighted to finally have a healer agree to consider the point, Wisteria launched into a detailed technical explanation of their marital activities, covering every facet that she thought could possibly be relevant. Apart from her second husband, that is. Justin always wore a prophylactic when they had vaginal intercourse, which hadn’t been during the fertile part of her cycle for the last year or so in any case. Justin and Nikola both assured her that activity could not impact her chances of conceiving with Nikola, and while at this point she had to wonder if perhaps they were wrong on that count, she would not endanger her husbands by mentioning it to a third party. Not even a healer.

Lady Michelle allowed Wisteria to relate everything without once interrupting her or trying to stop her. It was a most refreshing experience. When Wisteria at last wound down, she noticed that Lady Michelle’s face had turned a startling bright red, and the older woman didn’t say anything for some moments. “I think that’s all of it,” Wisteria said in the silence. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I…uh. Yes.” Lady Michelle fanned her face with one hand. “Yes, I’m fine. I see the two of you are very…enthusiastic. In your activities. Ah. As you surmised, only vaginal intercourse can result in pregnancy. Those…other activities…you mention won’t raise or lower your chances of catching. Unless your husband…you know…runs out. Before he gets to…you know.”

“Runs out of what?” Wisteria asked. “Before he gets to what?”

“Ahhh…semen. If he’s ejaculating without…or before…insertion, he might not be able to…during.”

“Oh! I see. He’s always seemed able to, and during my fertile periods we’ve been only using vaginal intercourse for that. How long-term is the drain on semen?” Wisteria asked, curious.

“Ummm…it’s purely short-term, Mrs. Striker. If he’s in good health for a man of his age, no more than a day, and probably much less. Truly, I think perhaps you are trying too hard.”

“Too hard?”

“Yes. True, there are certain…ah…positions that some believe will increase your chances of pregnancy – you would be lying down on your back during and after the act – but the effect, if any, is quite small. Whereas anxiety or stress about conceiving could well make you less likely to conceive, during the act itself.”

“Oh! How fascinating. If a healer were observing us during intercourse, would he or she be able to tell if that was happening?” Wisteria asked.

“I – in theory – that is – you – I am afraid this is all the time I have for today, Mrs. Striker. Thank you for coming.” Lady Michelle stood quickly and rushed to open the door. “Mr. Ingram! Please send in the next re-evaluation.”

Wisteria followed, perplexed. “I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time, my lady, but could you not answer just that one question first?”

“Such a thing is entirely inappropriate, Mrs. Striker. Please do not bring it up again.” Lady Michelle put a hand on Wisteria’s back and gently propelled her out of the office. “Just – try to relax, dear. Enjoy your husband and your youth and don’t worry about the rest. It’ll come. You’ll see.”

“If there’s nothing wrong with either of us separately, perhaps it’s something wrong with both of us together,” Wisteria said to Nikola, as they rode in the carriage on their way back to Comfrey House. It was Ascension season and they were staying with Justin while they were in Gracehaven, as they had the previous year. “I do wish we could get the same healer to examine both of us.”

“You can’t ask a woman to examine a man, or a man to examine a woman, Wisteria.” Nikola put an arm around her shoulders and snuggled her to his side. “Not unless it’s an emergency. I’m afraid this doesn’t qualify.”

Wisteria leaned into Nikola, then twisted around to curl up sideways with her cheek against his angoraflax jacket, one arm around his waist and the other on his shoulder for balance. “Lady Michelle said we were trying too hard. Is that possible? I think she was trying to get rid of me at that point. Possibly she’d wanted to get rid of me for a while.” Wisteria felt a twinge of guilt at having taken up so much of the healer’s time. The Code did not require a petitioner who had not been healed to compensate the Blessed for their time, but Wisteria had left generous gifts for all the healers they’d seen. Perhaps seven hundred years ago, the Code had been adequate to the needs of society, but in the modern age it was no way to offer fair compensation for the labor involved.

“I don’t think she was making that up.” Nikola kissed the top of her head, smoothing black curls away from her face. “My father said something to the same effect. That it was part of why there was such a long gap between Lysandra and me, because my mother was desperate to have another baby, and to have a boy especially. Not the only reason…Mother had two miscarriages, apparently. Still, he said it was a large factor.”

“Oh. I wonder if it runs in the family?”

“What, a predisposition not to get a woman pregnant when you want to most?” Nikola gave her his usual lopsided smile. She reached up a hand to trace his lips. Eighteen months, and she was still amazed that this beautiful blond noble was truly hers. “I suppose it’s possible. It’d explain why no one can find anything wrong with either of us – Father said healers could find nothing wrong with him or Mother, either. You know…you do have another husband you could try. Since it’s not working with me.”

Wisteria sat up to study his features, wondering if he was serious. “But Justin doesn’t want to have children.”

“Justin doesn’t want to raise children. We won’t ask him to make the baby his heir. You and I would still raise the child. It won’t impact him any differently than if I fathered the child, and he knows we’ve been trying. Why not him?”

“You wouldn’t mind? If Justin’s child were your heir?”

Nikola smiled again, this time both corners of his mouth turning up. “Wisteria. He’s my husband too. I would be honored.”

The words warmed her, re-opening old dreams of what Justin’s child might be like, wistful fantasies she had put away long ago as impossible. Would the baby inherit his competitive drive, his social and political acumen? His physique?  “You and Justin look very little alike. What if the child looks him?”

“We’re both tall,” Nikola pointed out. “And your mother is as Newlanture as he is. I daresay it would just look like the child had taken after your side of the family. Besides, he does not much resemble his father or his sister, and no one’s ever made anything of that. For that matter, Haventure blood aside, I look nothing like my own mother. I don’t think it would be too surprising for my child to look unlike me.”

A different factor struck her. “There aren’t any mind-healers in Justin’s family line.”

“There hadn’t been any in mine for two generations, either. I wouldn’t expect my own child to be Blessed, to be honest. Especially not with the same Blessing I have. I know we look on it as ‘the family Blessing’ because my great-grandmother and her grandfather had it too, but there’s plenty of other families whose members have different Blessings from each other. As I recall, Lord Randall has the first Blessing for minds in his family. And the Comfrey line does carry a Blessing: his sister Meg’s son is a body-healer. It’d be much the same odds,” Nikola said.

Wisteria rested her cheek against his lapel. “Some say an illegitimate child cannot be Blessed.” She’d never been convinced of that contention, but now that the question was more than merely academic she found it hard to dismiss entirely.

“You and Justin are married, too. The child would not be a bastard.”

“I know.” Wisteria hesitated. “So do you think secret marriages count? It’s real to us but it’s not real to society, and does that matter?”

“I performed the marriage ceremony, Wisteria. I felt the Savior. He approves.” Nikola hugged her.

She snuggled in against him. “Right. Although people all over the world have Blessings, even ones who don’t believe in the Savior, so it’s hard to say what would be the controlling factor in determining a valid marriage. Assuming that the theologians have the right of it and it matters at all.” She fluttered the fingers of her free hand. “But it’s not important either way to me. As long as the idea pleases you, my lord, I am delighted by the prospect. We should ask Justin.”

It had been two days since Justin’s husband and wife had arrived from Fireholt, and Justin still had not had a chance to make love with them. That this was more his fault than anyone else’s did nothing to assuage his lust. Granted, Nikola and Wisteria had been busy as well: calling on their respective parents, and petitioning all over town in an effort to find someone who could explain and treat their fertility difficulty. And arranging for private time with one’s secret spouses was always made considerably more difficult by the need for discretion, that watchword of Justin’s life since his boyhood.

Still, the Assembly meetings for the last two days had run unconscionably late. They needed to pass the next year’s budget. It should by all rights have passed months ago, and would have, save that a faction of newly-elected Assemblymen had declared themselves Crusaders Against Corruption. In practice, they were the Crusaders Against All Assembly Activity, arguing over every tariff, favorable tax status, credit, subsidy, and contract that was included in the budget. As a general rule, Justin approved of gridlock in the Assembly; an Assembly that did nothing was an Assembly that wasn’t wreaking havoc on the country. But the Newlant government did have one or two genuinely useful functions and Justin didn’t care to wager on whether the watch and the courts would continue to work if the treasury coffers stopped paying them for a month or two.

On the one hand, Justin found the CAC faction insufferably naive. Yes, sometimes a business got a fat government contract because it was in the right county or because its owner was married to an Assemblyman’s daughter. But sometimes that business was also the right one for the task at hand, or it made no meaningful difference to whom it went: why not to buy a vote? It was the way things worked. One could not change it. On the other hand, getting rid of all these pet projects would make for a government that did less: never a bad thing. On the deciding hand, Justin wanted nothing more than to go home and screw his spouses.

To that end, he’d been doing his modest part to broker a compromise between the CAC – who were too few to pass their own budget but sufficient to obstruct the popular one – and the factions that comprised the majority. Of course, not everyone in the majority would give up even one of their personal favorite budget items, and some of the CAC were determined to let the whole government burn to the ground before they’d abandon any part of their misguided ideals. But at two hours after midnight, they finally got the hundred and thirty-second vote they needed to pass the curst thing. Justin ducked out during the round of pompous, masturbatory self-congratulations that followed: he had far more literal sex acts on his mind.

Justin’s manor was quiet when he arrived home. One footman was on duty at the door, and informed him that the Strikers had retired an hour earlier. They’d not yet made the adjustment to Gracehaven hours for the season, though Justin had hoped they might wait up for him just the same. But of course, that was unreasonable, when they had no idea how late he’d come in.

Still, that they’d gone to their suites did not mean they were necessarily asleep. Justin verified that all other servants had finished their duties, then sent the footman off. Alone, Justin changed into nightshirt and dressing gown, then checked on Nikola’s suite. He found it promisingly empty. Less promising: his quiet knock at Wisteria’s door also went unanswered. Justin unlocked it with his master key, and locked it again behind him. The room was dimly lit by the banked coals of the hearth. Justin felt his way to the canopied bed and pushed the curtains aside to see his spouses asleep, Nikola snuggled up behind Wisteria, arms encircling her, her arm curled over his. He felt a pang of tenderness mixed with envy. Sometimes he wished that he did not have to be the secret husband, the one who could not sleep in the marital bed without fear of scandal and material harm. One’s reputation was far more than a matter of popularity: it was the foundation upon which business and wealth flourished. If their arrangement became known it would be financially and socially ruinous for them all. Family, friends, and business associates alike would disavow them.

Wisteria had chosen wisely when she married Nikola, but Justin wondered now and again what it would have been like if she’d been foolish instead. Nikola would never have forgiven me, and I would never have known what it was like to have them both. Whatever its flaws, it was better this way.

There was some space on Wisteria’s side of the bed; Justin dropped his dressing gown on the floor and slid in next to her. Wisteria made a sleepy noise and shifted her arm to loop over him. He was a little disappointed to find her in a nightgown; she often slept nude. Perhaps they were waiting for me to return for that. Justin slipped the fabric down to expose one shoulder and kissed the bare skin experimentally. Wisteria responded with a wordless sound of encouragement, her arm tightening to draw him closer. Emboldened, Justin nibbled at her neck, his hand wandering from her side to stroke Nikola’s. Their husband stirred as Wisteria squirmed under Justin’s attentions.

“Ah. You’re home,” Nikola whispered. His hand cupped the back of Justin’s neck, guiding their heads together for a kiss. “Welcome back.”

“I wasn’t sure I should wake you,” Justin whispered back.

Between them, Wisteria wriggled to free her arms, and began unbuttoning Justin’s nightshirt. “We went to bed early so we would be rested whenever you got in. How was Assembly?”

“Finished.” Justin sat up to throw off his nightshirt, then rolled Wisteria onto her back and covered her with his body. “Let’s not talk about them.” He kissed her, then shifted to kneel over her and unfasten her gown.

“All right.” Wisteria raked her fingers down his chest in a way that made him shudder with desire.

“There was something else we wanted to talk to you about…” Nikola stroked back Justin’s hair as it fell over his face.

“Let me rephrase.” Justin seized the back of his husband’s neck and pulled him close. “Let’s not talk at all.” He kissed Nikola with a ferocious, unbridled hunger that contact only enhanced rather than sated.

“Not even to say how much I want your cock?” Wisteria asked, teasing in her deadpan way as she took his erection boldly in one hand. He answered only with a growl of need. Justin could not have formed words if he wanted to, as if the part of his mind that controlled his vocal cords was starved of the blood that had rushed lower. It still startled him how articulate Wisteria could be during lovemaking, and how powerfully erotic her blunt language was. “I’ve missed you so much, Justin. I went to sleep dreaming of you, imagining you ripping off my nightgown, your strong hands cupping my breasts, your cock ramming, relentless, deep inside me.”

As she spoke, Justin enacted the first parts of her statement, tearing her gown in his haste. He savored the soft, velvety texture of her skin, the way her small breasts yielded against his touch as she arched into him. Nikola had undressed too, and was pressed against Justin’s back, nuzzling at his nape, hands on Justin’s rear in encouragement. Justin was more than ready for the next step, but—

Growling again, Justin leaned over the side of the bed to fish the almost-forgotten prophylactic from the pocket of his dressing gown.

Nikola reached around to pluck the sheath from his husband’s hand before Justin could put it on. “I don’t think we need that,” he said, then confusingly guided Justin’s bare prick to their wife’s pussy. Wisteria hooked one leg about Justin’s hips to pull him inside.

Body tensing, he tried to fight through the delicious haze of pleasure and find words. A groan and a strangled “but—” was all that emerged.

“You know we want children,” Nikola murmured against his skin between distracting nips at the side of his throat. “We want you to help.” Wisteria moved beneath him. She felt incredible: warm slick velvet engulfing him, even better without the prophylactic muffling sensation. Nikola’s fingers, slippery from oil or Wisteria, it was impossible to tell which, felt between his ass cheeks and probed teasingly at his anus. Justin whimpered, wanting to lose himself to their ministrations and nevermind the consequences, but—

Nikola’s heir—

“Nikola—”

“It’s all right, Justin,” Nikola said, soothingly, kneeling behind Justin now, his long lean length pressed against Justin’s back, and everything felt much better than all right—

—but—

It is not all right

I don’t care just let me—

Wisteria drew back from Justin, a mercy he didn’t want: he almost grabbed her back. “I think we’d better talk about this first, Nikola.” She groped at the blanket, and then he felt the prophylactic encasing him. “But not right now.”

With an animal growl, Justin slid an arm beneath her back and rammed into her, just the way she’d described earlier, and had the satisfaction of hearing her gasp in pleasure. Behind him, he felt rather than saw Nikola’s nod of assent. Wisteria stroked Justin’s back with one hand and with the other twined fingers with Nikola. Nikola straightened and adjusted his angle to take Justin, and then the whole world fell away in a glorious blaze of intensity and wonder.

The trouble with deciding to talk to Justin about something ‘later’, Nikola reflected, is that Justin is far too good at avoiding a subject.

Wisteria had been right, of course. In bed and while Justin was tired and horny had not been the right time to induce him to a decision on anything important. Nik hadn’t realized it was important to him at the time. They’d discussed Wisteria and Nikola’s plans to have children before, and this wouldn’t change anything but the possibility that Justin’s seed might germinate said children. Was Justin assuming something else in the plan would change? Or did it have emotional or mental significance to him? Or did he think it had to do so for Nikola?

For his own part, Nik was delighted by the idea. No, he would not have wanted to raise just any man’s child. But Justin was his husband. It was as natural to raise a child Justin fathered as to raise one Wisteria mothered.

Which Nik would have gladly explained, if Justin would only have allowed a chance.

Instead, three days had passed: jammed full of pre-Ascension celebrations, society dinners, a play, a concert, business breakfasts – who conducted business at breakfast?  Justin did – and a half-dozen other perfectly reasonable excuses to prevent a single moment of private conversation. Justin had even avoided their usual clandestine nighttime activities for two nights in a row, and on the third Nikola had been so relieved to see him that he hadn’t wanted to raise an uncomfortable topic. He knew something was troubling Justin, even if his husband would not speak of it. Nikola could see it in his mind, stress-fractures around the pearl-like coating of an old long-healed trauma. It was the kind of damage a mind sustained and recovered from naturally, without divine intervention, but the possibility that something they had done had caused it still bothered Nik.

Now, during the carriage ride home from the play, when they had a half-hour of privacy, Justin had distracted them with an anecdote about the performing troupe, and then drawn a funny story about Wisteria’s travels out of her, so that they were almost home before there was a lull where Nikola might have changed the subject. Except there was no point in raising it now, when they’d be back at Comfrey Manor in minutes, with all the servants around to overhear. Instead, Nikola took Wisteria’s hand and leaned forward to say, “We’ll call on you after the servants are abed, all right?”

“I look forward to it.” Justin smiled, his dark-eyed gaze so full of promise that Nikola reconsidered his willingness to force the topic. If he doesn’t want this, I can’t change that.

…but it would be nice to know why.

Justin was in a wine-red dressing gown when Nikola and Wisteria entered his suite a little after midnight. Nik and Wisteria were fully clothed. Their Newlanture husband raised an eyebrow as he stood to greet them. “You can’t be here to propose again. We’re already wed. Surely you haven’t a fourth spouse in mind? I will try to keep an open mind, my dears, but I fear we may have to draw the line somewhere.”

Nik smiled involuntarily; at his side, Wisteria replied, “No. We did want to tell you the results of our fertility petitioning, however.”

Justin laughed. “All right. This requires an after-dinner jacket? Shall I get mine?”

“Nikola thought it would help to set the tone,” Wisteria said, quite seriously. “But I don’t think it’s necessary for you to dress.” She took a seat on one of the chairs in the master suite’s sitting room, the decor all creams and reds, with walnut molding to trim the walls. She launched into the story. Justin shot Nik an amused sardonic look, but listened with patient attention. He sat on the chaise opposite her; Nik took the chair next to her.

After Wisteria finished the factual rendition, Nikola added, “And that’s why we don’t want you to use the preventative anymore. Perhaps it is all just bad luck, and if there’s a real issue they can’t detect it may not be with me. But it can’t hurt to have all of us trying, in any event.”

Justin turned to regard him as he spoke, his expression sober and hard to judge. After a moment of silence, the dark-haired lord glanced to the fireplace. “I finally have something you want, after all these years,” he murmured, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Ironic that I find myself reluctant to give it.”

The hackles on the back of Nik’s neck prickled. “What do you mean?”

Justin met his gaze. “I daresay you know very well what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Wisteria said, in her usual calm manner.

Justin turned to her. “You’ve refurbished a great deal of the Fireholt property since you married Nikola. And – doubled? Tripled? the staff. Did he never balk at that? Tell you ‘no, I don’t want you spending your money on me’?”

Nikola flushed. Wisteria considered the question. “We’ve discussed financial matters many times. I don’t recall any issues arising on those topics. I remember at first you didn’t think we needed to overhaul the accounting system for your petitioning gifts, Nikola. And I tried to talk you into implementing a fee system for some services to petitioners, which you would not permit.”

“It’s not legal, and even if it were, it’s against the Code,” Nik said, automatically.

“The legal question is more complex than that, but it’s no matter. Why do you ask, Justin?”

Justin’s smile grew, but it didn’t reach his hooded eyes. “So that didn’t change, at least. No other disputes? No refusal to buy a new suit for the Ascension Ball?”

“Doesn’t everyone buy new clothes for the Ascension Ball? I thought it a social requirement.”

“Nikola didn’t. For five years.” Justin was looking at him again.

“Yes,” Nik snapped, “And you may recall the circumstances under which that suit was destroyed. What are you driving at? Do you have a problem with the way our wife manages my money?”

“Your money,” Justin repeated, and Nik colored again.

“Our money. You know what I meant. We’re married. Our property is shared.”

“Yes, I know that we’re married,” Justin said, deliberately misinterpreting him. “But sharing our property? Do we, now?”

“I don’t understand.” Wisteria glanced between her two husbands. “Is there something of Fireholt’s that you need or want, Justin? I thought we were all quite comfortably settled; am I mistaken?”

“No, you’re not,” Nik said, shortly. “And I don’t need your charity, Justin.”

Justin stood abruptly, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Because you took Wisteria’s charity already?”

“It was her dowry, not charity.” Nik rose as well, his voice tight and cold. “Are you accusing me of marrying her for her money?”

“I did suggest marriage on those grounds,” Wisteria pointed out. “Though I don’t believe it was the deciding factor, in the event.”

“No.” Justin took a pace towards him, staring with narrowed eyes. “I am trying to determine why the property your wife brought to your marriage is yours, while the property your husband brought is charity. Is it because I am a man? Is Wisteria accepting your charity in living at Fireholt?”

“You know perfectly well why it’s different! Wisteria has to live with me. I couldn’t very well ask her to give up every luxury just because I am poor. Besides, it’s not just about me: her dowry is for the provision of our children. Her children,” Nik added pointedly, and Justin’s lip curled back. “Who will live with us, and who should naturally benefit from her wealth.”

“Are we arguing about something?” Wisteria remained in her chair. “What exactly are we arguing about?”

“I have no notion,” Nik snapped. “Apparently Justin is jealous that I allowed you to buy me but not him.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d been for sale. Much less that I owned you.”

“Curse it, Nikola! Where does this ‘ownership’ nonsense come from? When have I ever laid the least obligation upon you? What have I done to deserve this accusation?”

Nik worked his jaw in silence for a long moment before speaking again. “I am not now, and never have been, interested in either one of you for your wealth.”

Justin gave a bark of laughter. “Do you think you have not made that abundantly clear?”

“Obviously I haven’t, because you still think you need to give me things!”

“Yes! Because I love you and I want to share my good fortune with you! Because I want to do things with you and not have the fact that it costs some trivial amount of cash that I – we – can well afford to spend act as an irrational obstacle! Because I am your husband, Abandoned World take us both, and what is mine is by all rights yours!”

Nik opened his mouth to reply, then clamped his jaw shut again before he did. They glowered at each other, Justin’s broad shoulders tense with emotion.

“That doesn’t seem unreasonable,” Wisteria remarked. “I am still not sure why this is a point of contention.”

“That makes two of us, madame,” Justin growled.

“If you don’t know either, why are you protesting it?” Their wife tilted her head at him. “I mean, it seems like it would be easy for one or the other of you to yield on it. Given that none of us are on the verge of financial ruin here. But since neither of you are willing to concede, I am sure I am missing some important context.”

Justin glared at her, narrow mouth curled back in a snarl; for a moment Nikola thought he’d snap at her, too. But perhaps her calm, guileless expression stopped him. He twisted away instead, and stalked to the bookcase on the opposite side from the hearth. Justin stared unseeing at the book spines, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wisteria. It is very difficult to sustain a good rage when you insist on being sensible like this.”

“I’m…sorry?” Wisteria tried.

“Don’t be. What brought you to marry a pair of great idiots like us, anyway?”

“A superabundance of astonishingly good fortune, my lord.” Wisteria stood, hands clasped. “You do know I am not suggesting you do not both have reasons for your respective positions? My difficulty in understanding is my limitation. It does not speak to your rationality or intelligence.” Justin shook his head, not answering.

Drawing off his gloves, Nik walked slowly towards Justin. He put his right hand on his husband’s shoulder. Justin tensed at first, then turned his head and lifted his shoulder to press Nik’s pale fingers to his golden-brown cheek. “Am I crazy?” he asked, softly.

“No.” Nikola let the Savior’s power flow through him to illuminate the pearls of recovered traumas in Justin’s mind, and to feel the roughness of the little cracks around a couple of their encasements. “And if you were, I’m afraid it would be because I’m making you so. I didn’t realize how much this bothered you.”

“Can you not see it?”

Nik shook his head. “Not without you explaining it to me. Blessings don’t work that way.”

“Ahh.” Justin closed his eyes. “I know you’ve said as much before. It’s just…you’ve always understood me so well in so many other ways.”

Nikola turned Justin to face him and pulled him unresisting into his embrace. He sorted through his tangled emotions, objections and uncertainties and pride. Wisteria was right, there were reasons, but – “You’re right. I haven’t been fair to you. It’s hard enough on you, when our marriage can’t be public. I shouldn’t be…excluding you like this. I am sorry, Justin.”

The Newlanture man leaned back in Nik’s arms to study his expression. “Does that mean we won’t have these stupid arguments about wagers and the cost of entertainment again?”

Nik hesitated. Across the room, Wisteria was watching them closely. She had explained once that she could learn to interpret nonverbal cues for specific individuals, if she spent enough time paying careful attention. It unnerved most people when she tried. “I—” As Nik started to speak, Justin tensed in his arms, ready for a new fight. “Let me explain. In words. So Wisteria will understand. And then you can tell me why I’m being ridiculous and I’ll stop arguing about it. All right?”

Justin raised one dark eyebrow, a skeptical glint in his eye and a slight smile on his lips. “As you will.” They walked back to the chairs and all three sat again.

Nik leaned forward, and tried to speak the way Wisteria did, without letting old resentments and misunderstandings cloud his voice. “I never wanted to be a hanger-on—”

“You’re not—” Justin started to interrupt, voice rising. Nik glared at him, and Justin raised a hand, palm out. Justin took a deep breath, sat back and gestured for the other man to resume.

“My parents were very clear on that point. We are nobility, and it is our duty to support those less fortunate, not to look for aid ourselves. Accept what is due, yes. Beg for scraps, no. There are acceptable ways to get money: from our tenants, from the crown as stipend, from petitioners in return for healing. From a wealthy spouse was…unspoken. Permissible, as long as one did not admit to that motive. Anything else, everything else, must be refused or reciprocated in kind.”

Nik raised his eyes to watch Justin before he continued. “I accepted that. It made sense. But I hated it, too. I hated being poor when everyone assumed I was rich, when I was supposed to be rich. I hated asking my employees to work so hard when I couldn’t pay them for the extra hours, couldn’t pay the wages they’d already earned, some months. Hated all the invitations I turned down because I couldn’t reciprocate.

“And then there was you. And I could not bear to turn you down.

“It would have been so easy to be your pet, Justin. To follow you everywhere, to accept everything you gave so easily, as if it were nothing to you. Because it was nothing to you. But it meant so much to me.” As Nik spoke, he watched Justin’s eyes darken and his jaw tense, until Nik could no longer hold his gaze. He dropped his eyes to stare at his own pale hands, held together to make sure they didn’t shake, and forced himself to go on. “You were always everything I couldn’t be. Handsome, strong, powerful, wealthy, confident, quick-witted, fearless. You were never concerned about what anyone else might think. You always knew exactly what to do in any situation. And I…” Nik spread his hands. He didn’t even know how to articulate his inadequacy.

“Whereas you are merely devout, principled, Blessed, considerate, and the salvation for thousands of men and greatcats alike,” Justin supplied, dryly. “But go on.”

Nik covered his flushed face with both hands. “You know what I mean. I’m a coward. Undignified. Inappropriate. An embarrassment to my entire class.”

“Only because you put the rest of us to shame, Nikola. We are puffed up on our own consequence and hooting about trivial fripperies in the hopes no one will notice how utterly useless we all are. We pretend it matters more than the thousands of lives you’ve saved because we can’t bear to admit our own deficiency. But that does not make us right. Are we to the point where I tell you how ridiculous you’re being, Nikola?”

“Not yet,” Nik mumbled against his hands.

“Carry on, then. You know you cannot embarrass me by singing my praises.” Justin smirked at him.

Nik stuck his tongue out in return, then shook his head. “See? This is exactly what I mean. You are perfectly collected while I act like a toddler. You may recall the times I refused your generosity, but I know how many times I didn’t. How often I let you persuade me, let you cover my wagers, my expenses, my – everything. And each time I felt a little less like myself and a little more like your property. How could I assert my independence, myself, when I owed you so much? And more than that: you were so strong and I so weak that it felt…right, in some sense. Natural to be subsumed in your shadow. I used to think that you wanted that—”

“I never—” Justin snarled out, before checking his interruption.

Nik nodded. “I know you did not. Now, I know.” He raised his eyes at last. “But it is much easier to get along with you when I let you have your way.”

Justin grimaced. “Isn’t everyone?” Nik glanced sidelong at Wisteria. Justin followed his gaze and growled. “Point taken.”

“What?” Wisteria asked, and both men smiled. “Why are you – you cannot mean that I am never obstinate.”

“No. But you do not shout, or curse, or evade the main argument, or pretend there isn’t an issue, or do anything except calmly try to reason out the best solution, in truth,” Nik replied.

“Yes, yes, now that we are done establishing Wisteria is the better person—”

Nik glared at Justin. “That was not what I meant at all—”

“Of course not. It is, nonetheless, true. I am an overbearing ass. I believe we’ve established this before. The least I can do is admit it.”

Nik wrinkled his nose. “You’re overbearing, yes.”

“But you love me anyway.” Justin smirked again, but a flicker in his eyes betrayed a genuine need for reassurance.

“I love you. There is no ‘but’, nor ‘anyway’. I don’t want you to stop being who you are. I just…cannot allow myself to always be overborne. Not and still be who I am.”

Justin steepled his fingers together and watched Nik. After a long silence, he asked, “My turn?” At Nik’s nod, he rose and walked to Nik’s chair to perch on the arm. His deep red robe fell open, draping down the chair’s cream side and exposing the loose black ivysilk of his pajamas. “You stand up to me better than anyone else I know. It’s infuriating. And I love you for it.” Justin put one hand to Nik’s cheek to tilt his face up. “I have considered, on occasion, that you might tire of all the grief I dole out and give up on me. It has never before occurred to me that you might tire of it and stop fighting me. It is not an appealing prospect, Nikola. I have far too few people who are willing to tell me when I’m wrong, especially when I’m too stubborn to admit it. I cannot afford to lose you.

“You are, of course, being ridiculous: the only thing I am a model for is sexual debauchery. I am certainly not a model lord. Of your self-criticisms I will acknowledge none save that you lack confidence. Since obviously you do. I do not want to be your obligation or your master. I do not want you to cave to my whims because you think you owe me.” Justin hesitated, stroking stray blond hairs back from Nikola’s face. “I would like to be your husband, and to share my life with you. Including my possessions. But…if the cost of doing so is truly your self-respect, it is far too high a price to pay. I will not ask that of you. Say the word, and I will drop this matter forever.”

Nik covered Justin’s hand with his own, and shook his head. “No. You are right. You are my spouse, and I shouldn’t feel any differently accepting your wealth than I do Wisteria’s.”

“But do you?” Justin’s dark eyes searched his face.

Nikola hesitated. Not if you’ll father Wisteria’s child, he wanted to say. He knew it was true; it would be much more natural to accept Justin’s financial contribution to the family if it were for the support of his own child. But – I cannot use this as a bargaining chip, as a way of manipulating him into doing what I want. It would be akin to blackmail. And he is a member of my family, regardless. It’s not as if I would ask Wisteria not to spend her dowry on Fireholt or me if she were barren. Nik closed his eyes and kissed Justin’s palm. “No, I don’t think I do. Not any more.”

Justin exhaled, relaxing at last, and dipped to kiss Nikola. “All right. If you change your mind – you know, realize you can’t just stop being ridiculous about it – don’t…I mean it, Nikola. If this is some unsurmountable mental block, don’t sacrifice yourself on it. Wisteria was correct. I may be right, but I need not win the point. Or to make an issue of it.”

“I will let you know if it bothers me again,” Nik promised, after returning the kiss. “But I doubt it will.”

Wisteria moved to perch on the arm of Nik’s chair opposite Justin. “I am very glad that is settled, my lords. And thank you for explaining it, Nikola.” Nik slipped an arm around her waist and straightened to kiss her as well.

Justin’s fingers wandered to Nik’s neckcloth to untie it. “All right, now that this is sorted, may we take all this extraneous clothing off of you both and move to the highlight of the evening?”

Eyes closed, Nikola tilted his chin up to assist. Then he caught Justin’s hands after they unbuttoned his collar, and opened his eyes. “Are you forgetting something, husband, or only hoping we have?” he asked, softly.

“What?” Justin glanced between them, and then squeezed his eyes shut. “Ah. I promise I did not bring all this up as a deliberate change of subject.” He looked at Wisteria again, then dropped his eyes. “Must we go over this? May I say ‘no, thank you’ and have us move on?”

“Justin…” Nik started.

“You may,” Wisteria said.

“Wisteria!” Nikola exclaimed, betrayed.

“Yes?”

“This is important. We can’t just ignore it.”

“I don’t think I understand?” Wisteria tilted her head at him. “We have given our reasons for wanting Justin’s child. If those are insufficient to persuade, I am not sure why we need to continue the conversation if one of us would rather not.”

“I’d at least like to know why.” Nik glared at Justin. I bared my soul for you. You can explain yourself for a change, too.

“As would I. But I daresay our marriage is strong enough to survive without, if you do not wish to discuss it, Justin.”

Their husband twisted to face away from them, long black hair spilling over the belt of his robe as he sat on the arm of Nik’s chair. His shoulders slumped. “Would it truly be of no consequence to you, Nikola? To claim another man’s child as your own?”

“You are not ‘another man’.” Nik laid his hand over Justin’s, where it rested against his thigh. “You are my husband. Of course it would be of consequence to me. It would be my honor.”

Justin laced his tan fingers through pale ones and squeezed. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of asking more, then he shook his head. “Yes.” He stood and tugged Nikola to his feet.

“What?”

“I said yes.”

“But why did you change your mind?” Wisteria took the hand Justin offered her and rose as well.

“Because I am being ridiculous. And you are right.” He smiled at both of them. “Come, my dears. Allow me to exercise my one true greatness: sexual debauchery. I always disliked prophylactics anyway.”