The Peacekeepers didn’t come that night. No one knocked on the door. The wind didn’t even rattle the windows. All was quiet without and within their home. In the morning, the sun’s rays broke the silence.
A beam of light shimmered over the sheets. Adom felt the warmth snap to his toes. The rays tick-tocked their hands up his legs, brushing aside the weariness from carrying Alyss’ limp body out of the storefront, cradling her in his lap as they crossed town, and then climbing the stairs of Jian’s home with his precious cargo, only to deposit his treasure in a bed that was not his own.
“It’s for the best,” Emet had insisted.
Even the memory of his tone rang false in Adom’s mind. And now, as the sun’s radiance rang over his face, Adom could no longer hide from the truth.
He rose from the bed. It did not creak when he displaced his weight. Neither he nor Emet had moved a stitch after finally laying down last night. Adom reached into his closet and pulled out trousers and a tunic.
“It’s for the best,” Emet repeated his words from last night.
Adom turned.
Emet lay wide awake with his eyes squeezed shut. The sun shone bright on his brown face. Emet raised his palm to block it out.
Adom turned from him and continued to dress.
“She’s better off with her sister.” The bed creaked in protest as Emet sat up. “And if she needs us-.“ Emet stood and turned his back on the sun, his eyes searched for Adom’s but Adom would not look directly at his bondmate. “If she needs anything, Jaspir will let us know.”
Adom finished buttoning up his trousers and made to leave the room. The floor boards groaned as Emet dashed across the room to intercept him.
“Adom, please. I had to protect you. Lady Angyla would’ve done worse to you.“
“I’m not the one who needed your protection, Em.”
“The law on this is not on our side.”
“We were supposed to be on her side.” Adom finally turned to face his bondmate, the man who had been his hero all those years ago. This man who Adom could always count on to separate right from wrong and stand firmly on the side of justice. “She came to us for a safe haven and we shoved her out in the middle of the night. I lost control with her last night. I admit that. I pushed too far, but I did not hurt her. She trusted me. I wish you would trust me.”
“I trust you with my life, with my body, with my soul. I risked my life for you, for us.”
“When we were hounds, and I bound that young woman, you quieted everything down, but that included me.”
“What are you saying?” Emet’s dark skin looked two shades paler as he waited for Adom’s answer.
Adom took the few paces necessary to bring him to the man he loved. Emet stood in the sun with his back to the light. Adom knew that Alyss was awake now, awake and alone and confused. Likely feeling abandoned. Would she retreat back into her cocoon? Would she never show anyone her colors again?
“Emet, I love you. With everything in me, I love you. But you see the world in black and white, right and wrong. And I’ve always been a shade of gray. Alyss is…she’s not gray, she’s a riot of color. And she’ll never be quiet. I don’t want to be pushed down into a dark corner anymore.”
Emet recoiled as though Adom had struck him.
“Your instinct is to protect, but neither of us need protection. We need freedom to draw outside the lines, in a myriad of color, and to shout loud.”
Adom watched Emet’s shoulders sag as though his words uncorked the air from his chest. Adom’s fingers ached to reach for his ropes to tie Emet’s forearms behind his back and set him up straight, but he couldn’t. Not now. He had to find a way to help Alyss out of the darkness.
Adom marched out of the bedroom and into his studio. Memories of his night with Alyss assailed his mind. His sight caught on her painting. He looked at the girl on the canvas, flying so free. The world should see her like that. He would put it in the gallery alongside his work. It was the least he could do; share his fortune with the woman who was the cause of it.; bring her into the light beside him.
One by one, he loaded all the paintings. He loaded them all on a cart and pulled them out of the storefront. The sun lit his path as he pulled the cart across town until he found himself outside the art gallery. Geoffri the gallery manager, let him inside. Adom lined up each painting one by one.
The Awakening sequence, that began with the Goddess on the red earth.
The Birth of the Sun, which captured the first time Alyss sat for him.
The Lotus, with his muse still bound inside the cocoon of her petals.
The Worship, which captured man bowing before Her core.
And finally, the Butterfly, where his muse awakened and freed herself from the casings that had bound her her whole life.
“These are simply breathtaking,” the patroness, Lady Jayne, said as she entered the room. “Did you have a model for this?”
Adom had to clear his throat of the truth. “It's from my imagination.”
“You have a very vivid mind, Adom.” Lady Jayne’s finger grazed his shoulder.
Adom stepped to the side beyond her reach. “I’m glad they are to your liking, my lady.”
“It's simply astonishing that a man could make up something like this?” She indicated the Worship painting.
In the painting, a woman with skin the color of almonds stood before a man. Her long black hair cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The man’s face was unseen, only the dark curls at the back of his head were visible as the rest disappeared into the earth. Their torsos blended into one, disappearing into the earth as though they sank into its depths or rose from it. The carnal aspects of oral sex were hidden to common eyes, but they were clear to Adom.
This was the world Adom wanted to live in. A world where a woman opened himself to a man, allowing him to please her, trusting him to take her higher, both of them spreading joy to the earth, making it fertile.
He hadn’t made it up -the crinkle in Alyss’ eyes. The shape of the O of her mouth as she cried out. The tension in her legs as her orgasm took her. He hadn’t imagined Emet gripping her thighs. That glint of possession in his eyes. The hunger that glistened from his tongue.
“And then there’s this one.” Lady Jayne indicated the final picture in the line up.
“It’s a last minute addition,” said Adom. “I know her breasts are apparent, but it's not pornographic. It’s a young woman becoming free, expressing herself and spreading joy into the world.” Women were allowed to paint themselves half nude or fully nude. But when the brush was in a man’s hands it was called lude.
“I don’t think its pornographic, Adom. In fact, I want one done of myself.”
Adom looked around the room, but Geoffri was no longer present. He and Lady Jayne were alone, and she was advancing in words and distance.
“We could get started now while Geoffri hangs your work. I keep a bedroom upstairs for when I work late hours. It looks as though this portrait will take many hours into the night.”
“My lady, though I am flattered by your attentions, only my art is for sale and not anything else.”
“You have principals. I understand.” She looked at the butterfly painting again. “It's just I can’t help but notice this young woman looks so very familiar. She reminds me of Lady Angyla’s daughter. What’s her name?”
Adom stood by, mute.
“Oh yes, Alyss that’s it. Though it couldn’t be Lady Alyss. She’s an unbonded female and the daughter of one of the most powerful women in the city. She would never sit for such an erotic painting.”
She let the words trail off, suggestively. If only she knew what he and Lady Alyss had done together, it would likely make this old cougar blush.
“This work is from my own imagination.” It wasn’t a lie. It was how he’d seen Alyss the moment he bound her hands and hooked her up onto his rig.
Lady Jayne squinted. “But it looks so unlike most of your other work. Look at these lines, and this color palette. It's as though an entirely different artist painted this.”
Lady Jayne’s smile widened to flash shark, white teeth. Beads of sweat pooled at the base of Adom’s neck. What had he been thinking bringing this painting here? He’d wanted to give Alyss a chance to have her work admired by others, to set them both free of their artistic confines. He’d wanted her to see she had true talent that would be seen and appreciated for the great work it was. Instead, he’d placed her before this pariah.
“Its a good thing it's not Lady Angyla’s precious daughter. If it were I’d have to call the Peace Keepers and have you taken away for visual slander against an innocent female.”
Lady Jayne’s grin went even wider. Adom was certain she’d swallow him whole any minute.
“I’ll tell you what,” she sauntered closer. “We’ll keep this painting out of the showing. You can replace it with one of my likeness, which we’ll hang in my home for our eyes only. We can get started now.”
She stared at him, waiting to see what move he would make.
Adom held his tongue and felt like a hypocrite. Just an hour ago he’d lectured Emet about not being silenced, about living out loud and in the light. Now he found himself about to step back into the darkness, forced into a line of someone else’s definition.
But what choice did he have?
If Lady Jayne told anyone that Alyss had any ownership in the work, she’d be ruined and her Mother would have Adom thrown in jail.
Lady Jane held out her hand. “Come now, Adom. Let’s begin.”