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Yovan listened in disbelief as the physician confirmed Mered was indeed with child. He huffed in some indignation when Valre Sarvan took him to task for carelessness with a Deir still below breeding age. But he bit back a caustic retort when he caught sight of Mered’s expression—a mixture of sheepishness, worry and excitement. Yovan sighed and only half heard the rest of the physician’s scolding.
He supposed he should have known better than to take his mate at his word when he claimed he’d taken the mirash after dinner. It turned out Mered’s concept of “after dinner” was any point between the last sip of his wine and midnight. Unfortunately, that meant they had not allowed enough time for the suppressant to take effect.
When he returned to the suite after seeing the healer out, he found his parents already fussing over his mate who’d moved to the sitting room couch. Both senior Seydons clucked over the risks involved while expressing anticipation of their first grandchild. Yovan sighed again.
Mered turned a wide-eyed, apprehensive gaze on him. “Are you displeased, Van?” he cautiously asked.
Yovan snorted and entered the room. “Displeased you’re risking life and health by breeding too soon? I should think so.”
“Van!”
“Oh shush, Ama. I’m worried something may go wrong and hoping to Veres none will.” He sat down beside Mered and took his hand in his. “I pray you’ll be more conscious of the importance of preciseness from now on. This is no laughing matter. Oda Morev almost died because he got with child too soon.”
Mered leaned his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was the one who was careless yet it was you who bore the brunt of Master Sarvan’s scolding. Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
“And upset you?” Yovan shook his head. “Better I than you, my sweet. I’m not the one facing six months of discomfort and risk.”
Evran and Laval exchanged knowing glances. “It’s not all hard going,” Evran told his son. “Mer won’t feel much discomfort until after the birthing seam appears. Indeed, it’s you who’ll suffer when his mood swings begin.”
“Not to mention outlandish food cravings and nodding off in the most inappropriate places,” Laval helpfully added.
Yovan rolled his eyes and regarded his grinning spouse. “So long as any food cravings are readily available and you don’t fall asleep in your soup, I suppose I’ll survive.”
The Cordonas visited as soon as they received word that Mered was childing. Yovan observed them curiously, noting Mered’s brothers were quite solicitous and offered to send him whatever dainties he desired. On the other hand, Remir was a tad aloof though he did express alarm Mered had not waited to safely get with child.
At least, he’s worried about that, Yovan mused. Not so Asrael whose main reaction was unseemly glee over this first blood-link to House Essendri. Before they left, he and Remir announced they would visit as often as possible to check on Mered.
Yovan was not deceived by the display of concern and neither was Mered as evinced by his lack of enthusiasm. When he showed the family out, Yovan bid the brothers a warm goodbye, but could not summon the same for Remir and even less for Asrael.
The physician had left strict instructions that Mered relaxed in their chambers for most of the day, coming out only for meals and a short stroll each morning. He was not to engage in any brisk physical activity until Valre could guarantee he was in no danger of miscarrying. Nor was Mered to be subjected to stress for the first three months when the danger of losing a babe was greatest. But how was Yovan to accomplish that with the threat of unexpected calls by the Cordonas already disturbing his mate’s peace?
“Why not bring him to Woodmere?” Laval suggested over breakfast the next day. “It’s a fair distance to travel overland. You won’t have to fear frequent visits from them.”
“Or at all,” Evran testily added. “Poor Mered. I shudder to think what it must have been like growing up in that house with so little care or warmth shown him.”
“You can’t know that,” Laval commented.
“But I can. They have no true shields to speak of. Their thoughts were all over the place so I helped myself to them.”
“Ev!”
“What? There’s no harm in getting to know folk better. Especially if we’re to be tied to them for the rest of our lives.” Evran shook his head. “There’s hardly any love in that family. Not between Asrael and Remir or they and their sons. Asrael seems fond enough of Havir, but it’s probably because he’s the eldest. As for Remir, he’s a colder fish than his spouse.”
Yovan nearly spat out a mouthful of milk tea. He snatched up his napkin and wiped his mouth.
“Really, Ama? You got all that from this one visit?”
“Nay, I’ve been studying them since the day we first called on them. As much as you have.”
“Like father, like son,” Laval muttered.
Yovan frowned. “You seem to have learned much more than I.”
“Because I’m not distracted by their son,” Evran pointed out with a small smile. “You check Mered’s reactions to his parents much more than you actually watch them. Not surprising when his well-being is so important to you.”
Laval nodded. “Have you told him how you feel?”
Yovan ducked his head. “Not yet.”
“Why the wait?”
“I don’t want him to feel... obligated.”
“Oh, Van, don’t assume telling him will have that effect on him,” Evran said. “Why, learning you love him might bring him great joy considering how little of it he seems to have received from his family. Oh yes, even his brothers don’t deeply care for him for all their show of affection.”
“They’ve had the worst examples in their parents,” Laval put in.
“Precisely.”
Yovan pursed his lips. “I hadn’t considered that.” He smiled at Laval. “Your suggestion of Woodmere is brilliant, Aba. Though I’ll have to resign my position at the University if we live there for a lengthy while.”
“I’m sure they’ll accept you back without question when you return,” Laval said. “But you may not be interested in going back at all. Teaching isn’t really your passion, now is it?”
“Nay, it isn’t.” Yovan took another bite of griddle cake. “Truth be told, I’m still unsure what I want to do. What I’m best suited for. Though I think it should be something where my giftedness will be an asset.”
“Of course. It pleases you very much that you’re so blessed. It stands to reason any profession that will make full use of it will be to your liking.”
Valre Sarvan supported their removal to Woodmere even if it meant travelling there for the birthing. Not a difficult thing to do for a born healer who could translocate to any point in Aisen. But the physician was especially pleased with the move when he saw how unsettled Mered tended to be whenever his parents visited which was more often than desired.
Yovan resigned as an instructor at the State University with minimal regret. His sire was right; he was not really passionate about teaching. He was gratified nonetheless to learn he had done well enough to elicit a sincere hope he would return after the birth of his son. He was also much cheered when he discovered many of his students expressed dismay when it was announced he was leaving with most saying they would miss him dearly.
As expected, the Cordonas were far from happy with a course of action that would take Mered far away enough to make visiting him with any frequency or regularity difficult. But they could not protest when the royal physician himself endorsed the move and so kept their displeasure to themselves at least when the Seydons were about. Yovan was fairly certain they had no qualms about expressing their objections to Mered though what that accomplished apart from further straining their son’s nerves, he failed to understand. What he did know was the sooner Mered relocated to Woodmere, the better he would fare.
By Mered’s second month, they were comfortably settled in Vireshe and far from unwelcome visitors. Fortunately, the unwelcome ones were by and large from Mered’s side of the family and the welcome ones were all sufficiently gifted to travel to Vireshe by translocation. Among the first of these were the royal couple and their son.
Rohyr quickly made it his mission to explore every corner of Woodmere and the surrounding grounds much to the estate folk’s consternation. Their worry the Ardan’s heir might drown in the lake or get lost in the nearby woods far outweighed their awe and excitement over the royal family’s visit. Rohyr’s caregiver Josel assured them the Ardan’s son was no witless fool to get into such trouble while reminding the escort of Citadel guards to keep an eye on a precocious crown prince known for his curiosity and yen for adventure.
Keldon and Dyrael, on the other hand, fussed over Mered much to Yovan’s amusement. There was something comical yet endearing about the king of Ylandre fluffing up a childing Deir’s pillows so he could comfortably sit up in bed while his Ardis insisted on serving said Deir his tea and biscuits.
It was also during this visit that the couple spent much time with their formerly excluded uncle and his mate. In the course of their fortnight stay, the damage the old feud had wrought on the fabric of relationships in the Royal House was finally and fully addressed. By the time the Ardan, his consort and his heir departed for Rikara, the rents and frayed ends had been woven back together so skillfully only one who knew what to look for would realize there had been rents and frayed ends at all.
––––––––
After examining Mered, Valre looked at his patient who was now midway through the six-month Deiran gestation period and therefore past the most dangerous phase of underage breeding. Yovan noticed that though the physician’s smile was restrained as was his wont, there was a twinkle in his eyes.
“The child is healthy and growing well and securely berthed in your womb,” Valre said. “You no longer need to confine yourself though that isn’t to say you may run sprints or ride at breakneck speed around the estate,” he cautioned when Mered broke into an excited smile at the prospect of being out of the bedchamber longer than in it. “You still must get a lot of rest and maintain a relaxed pace of life.”
Mered pouted. “But I need to get about. Look at my belly,” he complained. “It’s gone round! Last I was this round, I was just a child.”
The physician tut-tutted. “Your belly is as expected of a Deir entering his fourth month. I’d be more concerned if the birthing seam had not yet appeared,” he pointed out referring to the line that crossed Mered’s abdomen. The seam was now two shades darker than his fair skin and thus fully visible. “Besides, I merely advised moderation, not to curtail exertion altogether. And there is one exercise you’ll doubtless be eager to resume. I recall your frustration when I instructed you and Yovan to desist from it until I deemed it safe again.”
Yovan huffed a chuckle while Mered stared at the healer in some puzzlement.
“What exercise did we both have to stop doing?” he asked. “And why the both of us when only I—”
He suddenly stopped short and gaped at Valre in sheer delight. This time Yovan laughed out loud. Of all the restrictions put on him, abstaining from any carnal activity had been the hardest for Mered to endure. It was not only because he enjoyed sexual play with Yovan, but also due to the sharp increase of a breeding Deir’s libido almost from the moment of conception.
“Yes, my sweet, we may couple again,” he said. “And not a moment too soon. I never knew you could languish from a lack of rutting until now.”
Mered beamed at him and then at the physician. “It will be like a feast after a long famine!” he said with such glee, Valre rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“You’re indeed the Ardan’s cousin,” he commented to Yovan. “And you made sure to wed someone of like lustihood to yourself, didn’t you?” He got up. “Well then, I’d best get going.”
“Won’t you stay the night?” Yovan asked.
Valre shook his head. “I have surgery to perform tomorrow morn and I prefer a good night’s rest in my own bed.”
“Then have a bite before you leave,” Yovan offered. “I know it’s only a short journey back to Rikara for you, but our cook makes very good scones and pasties.”
The physician left a half hour later. Over tea, he reminded Yovan to refrain from reproductive intercourse.
“Semen stimulates the womb causing it to spasm,” he explained. “Which intensifies orgasms or revives a fading one. It’s a perfectly healthy response for a fully mature womb, even one that holds a child. But in an immature womb, there’s always the risk the spasms may lead to a miscarriage instead.”
Yovan nodded. “It’s also the case with older Deira, isn’t it? Ama told me he was given the same advice when he carried me.”
“Correct. When a breeding Deir is not yet or no longer in his prime, it’s best to avoid stimulating the womb thusly. So yes, Yovan-min, it’s strictly up the arse for your mate for now.”
“Keldon and Dyrael’s penchant for salty language has rubbed off on you, Sarvan-dyhar,” Yovan remarked with a snigger.
“Lest you’ve forgotten, my son Aloir is wed to your cousin Mylan and they lived with us until they had Eiren.” Valre sighed. “Mylan is as much an Essendri as you where bawdy speech is concerned.”
Yovan was still chuckling when he returned to Mered. After he explained the reason for his mirth, he got into the bed and sat beside his mate.
“Pleased with the news?” he asked.
Mered nodded vigorously. “Oh yes! I was worried he was going to order us to hold off until after I birthed.” He shuddered. “That would have been very disappointing.”
Yovan shook his head. “So lustful,” he murmured. He pressed a kiss to Mered’s forehead.
“And you aren’t?” Mered scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten how easily you get aroused or how quickly you recover after you’ve buggered me silly.”
“About that,” Yovan said with a grin. “You’ll have to be content with being buggered silly.” He briefly recounted the physician’s explanation. “Which points up all the more the need to be careful in the future. I never want you put in harm’s way again, ariad.”
He caught his breath while Mered gasped at his slip. He warily looked at his spouse. Mered stared back at him searchingly.
“Do you mean it?” he softly asked. “Am I truly your beloved?”
Yovan inhaled deeply and nodded. “For a long while now,” he quietly said. “You had my heart soon after we wed.”
Mered looked at him in some awe. “All this time,” he murmured. “Yet you didn’t tell me.”
“I wasn’t certain how you’d react,” Yovan admitted. “How you’d feel about it.” He half turned to face Mered. “I don’t expect anything from you in return. Anything forced is worse than meaningless. Just... just know I love you. Nay, I’m in love with you and I’m deeply grateful Veres saw fit to give you to me.”
“You love me,” Mered whispered. “Saints above, I never imagined—”
He suddenly threw his arms around Yovan’s shoulders and pressed up against him, sealing their lips with such hunger, he stoked the flames of lust between them into a blaze as if it were their wedding night all over again. Yovan groaned as every part that had perforce lain dormant for three months suddenly came alive once more.
With a possessive growl, he bore Mered down on his back, almost ripping his nightshirt from his body. Thank Veres Deira wore simple nightshirts before their majority, he randomly thought as he tossed the thin garment aside.
Mered almost as frantically undressed him while Yovan reached into the bedside table drawer and managed to locate the bottle of oil. But Mered only got as far as undoing the buttons of his breeches before Yovan shoved down his drawers and liberally anointed himself with oil. He may have been in a hurry, but he was not about to cause Mered pain by way of insufficient lubrication.
He hauled Mered’s legs around his waist and bending to kiss him soundly, pressed into him until his groin met Mered’s backside. They both groaned as they achieved full bodily union after so long. Yovan held still for a few moments, his forehead against Mered’s, as much to keep from spending too soon as to give his mate time to adjust to the flesh that filled him. He recaptured Mered’s lips and for several heartbeats they breathed into each other’s mouths.
Once he was reasonably in control of his body, Yovan began the sensual act of repeatedly sliding his shaft up Mered’s arse. He hissed at the inimitable sensation of being gloved by muscle-bound, satin soft flesh. All the more because it was Mered’s flesh. His mate’s body. His beloved’s heated core.
Beneath him, Mered whimpered helplessly as pleasure visibly overcame him. He gasped or cried out softly as he was relentlessly pierced, the wrap of his legs around Yovan’s waist tightening at every particularly deep jab.
“Van, please, oh please,” he babbled, lifting his hips to meet Yovan’s thrusts as best as he could. “I missed this so. I missed you!”
Spurred on by Mered’s blatant need and active abetting of his own ravishment, Yovan quickened his thrusts. Mered had reached for his shaft and started to stroke it. Yovan eased his fingers under Mered’s and took over caressing the rigid column, taking pride and delight in the knowledge he’d brought his spouse to such a state so speedily and well.
No more than I missed you, ariad. You’re so beautiful. So irresistible. I can never have enough of you.
He firmly stroked Mered’s shaft, occasionally swiping his thumb over the domed tip as semen started to seep out in a streaky trickle. All the while he kept up the nigh brutal thrusts he knew Mered favored when they had not coupled frequently enough to their satisfaction. Mered reached above his head to clutch at the beddings, throwing his head back and thrusting out his chest as he bore the relentless plowing of his arse.
The corded sinews of his throat and his peaked nipples stood out amidst swaths of fair skin and freckles, inevitably drawing Yovan’s attention. He leaned down to kiss and nip at the smooth flesh, leaving a faint trail of bruises in his mouth’s wake as he made his way to Mered’s nipples. These he licked and sucked until Mered pleaded for mercy even as he begged for more.
“Deeper please... Harder... Yes, oh yes! Ah, love me, Van. Own me! Make me feel I’m yours!”
What could Yovan do when inundated with such heartfelt pleas but grant them?
The intensified pace of their lovemaking could not be sustained indefinitely. Yovan soon felt the coils of an orgasm begin to unravel within him. He hastened his stroking of Mered’s shaft, determined they should reach the heights of rapture as closely to each other as possible. Mered writhed, stiffened and keened.
Of a sudden, semen coated Yovan’s fingers, striped his chest and dappled Mered’s groin. The sight stripped Yovan of all control and he spent himself in what felt like an endless stream deep inside Mered’s backside. He harshly gasped as he rode out one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever experienced. Not unexpected since it was his first in months, but wondrous nonetheless and draining in the most pleasant way imaginable.
He managed not to collapse on top of Mered and rolled onto his side. He drew his mate into his arms. Mered burrowed into his embrace and clung to him.
“That was... that was incredible,” he mumbled.
Yovan chuckled. “I aim to please, my heart.”
“Your heart.” Mered gazed at him adoringly. “I like that so much. Will you— Eew!” He suddenly pulled away with a grimace.
“What’s wrong?” Yovan asked
Mered shook his head. “I’d forgotten how well you can fill me up after we haven’t fucked in a very long while. I’m going to make a mess if I don’t wash up.” He clambered out of the bed and hurried to the bathing room. “Don’t leave!” he called over his shoulder. “We’re not done yet.”
Yovan guffawed and got to his feet. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, wiped his groin and belly with his drawers, and then settled back on the bed. As he awaited Mered’s return, he found himself pondering his mate’s reaction when Yovan inadvertently revealed his feelings.
Mered had not uttered a similar declaration of love though he had expressed a desire to belong to Yovan. Despite what he’d repeatedly told his parents, he could not help a twinge of disappointment that apparently Mered did not return his love. That he might never love Yovan even if he admired and lusted after him.
He suddenly recalled his father’s critical assessment of the Cordonas’ relationships with one another. Yovan sighed. Evran was right about Mered’s lack of a loving and nurturing childhood. The youth had been incredulous upon learning Yovan loved him. Had been utterly joyful to be the recipient of that love.
Yovan’s disappointment gave way to pity and sympathy for his mate. He who had been raised by two Deira so mutually and palpably devoted could not possibly comprehend how difficult it must be for one whose parents cared little for each other, performed their duties as spouses as sparingly as possible, and appeared to treat their obligations as parents in like manner. When they displayed affection for their sons it was more often than not as an expression of approval or a form of reward for some task well done. Or if they were in the presence of others, an act put on to pretty up the family’s public image. Yovan could not decide which was the more deserving of disdain.
With such indifferent parents, Mered had likely received little attention and known next to no concern for his opinions or feelings. Small wonder if he was still learning how to truly love another including his own mate.
Yovan decided he would content himself with whatever Mered bestowed on him whether it be the camaraderie of close friends, the desire of lovers or, Veres willing, the romantic devotion of true mates. Given Mered’s emotional limitations, it was no small thing to be the recipient of even the least of his affections.
––––––––
The birthing was difficult to put it mildly.
It was fortunate Yovan returned early to the house that morning after his daily walk around the estate. He found Mered curled up on the floor of their bedchamber, sobbing weakly as wave after wave of pain wracked his body. He had not been able to cry out for help from the sheer agony of it. Yovan frantically summoned Valre Sarvan rather than Embrith’s resident physician who was not a born healer. In the meantime, he poured as much energy as he could spare into Mered to help ease the pain.
Fortunately, the birthing seam had thinned sufficiently and there would be no need to cut it open. It would part on its own before long. However, Valre’s examination yielded the discovery that Mered was afflicted with a very rare condition wherein the babe’s natal shell did not entirely detach from the womb wall. The healer would have to surgically extract the child and its shell.
The procedure was dangerous due to heavy bleeding as well as potential damage to the womb itself. In the absence of a highly trained physician gifted with the ability to stem excessive blood loss, most Deira died from such a birthing. But even with a healer of Valre’s level of skill and giftedness, it was still a risky undertaking when done outside a hospital and without the assistance of trained apprentices. As such, Valre advised Yovan to fetch Embrith’s healer or one of the town’s practicians to assist him.
Master Harveth and his assisting practician were nigh frightened out of their wits when Yovan opened a portal right in the medical facility’s front yard. Yovan had never flouted the rules governing the creation of portals before, but this time he did not care for the rules. Not when Mered and their child were imperiled. He whisked both Deira back to Woodmere just as the birthing seam started to part.
He would never forget Mered’s piteous cries and whimpers as the two physicians worked together to bring the infant into the world. Even the strong painkiller Valre had dosed him with could not completely alleviate his agony. Only a Deir with the gift of palliation could do so and such healers were even rarer. And unfortunately, more powerful anodynes were still in the experimental stages of development. Mered clutched at his hand nearly hard enough to break his fingers, but Yovan would have willingly suffered damage to both his hands if it provided his mate some relief from the unrelenting pain.
Mered mercifully passed out for several minutes as Valre finally detached the natal shell completely. The physician handed the wailing infant to the practician while his colleague tended to Mered’s birthing wound. Yovan was torn between remaining with Mered and following the practician who would give his son a thorough examination and first wash.
In the end, he chose his mate and watched the healers disinfect his womb, gently push the edges of the seam together to encourage it to close, anoint it liberally with medicaments, and finally wrap his torso in several layers of gauzy bandages. Afterward, he helped them remove the soiled beddings and ease a fresh sheet under Mered.
Yovan knew he made the right choice to stay when Mered regained consciousness and his first act was to look for him.
“Van?” he feebly asked.
“I’m here, ariad.”
“Our son...”
“Hale and feisty going by his cries,” Yovan assured him. “Methinks he dislikes his first bath.”
Mered’s eyes widened a bit. “That’s him I hear? Saints, I thought a curlew had wandered into the bathing chamber.”
Yovan chuckled at his show of spirit. “I’m proud of you,” he murmured, pressing kisses to the knuckles of the hand he held. “I doubt I would have weathered this as well as you did.”
“That’s stretching it a bit to say I weathered this,” Mered said. He winced as Harveth rechecked the bandages and tightened them further.
Valre came to Yovan’s side and handed over a trio of vials to him. He gave instructions on their usage as well as ordered Mered to stay abed for at least a sennight; longer if his colleague deemed he needed the extra rest.
Mered wrinkled his nose in distaste when Valre also forbade him from getting up to relieve himself. “Are you sure you won’t leave me after this week?” he asked Yovan, the worry in his eyes belying the jesting tone of his voice.
“If I leave you just because I had to help you piss and move your bowels, I’ll be the least worthy of your esteem,” Yovan said. “What’s cleaning up after you compared to carrying our child and enduring the pain of birthing him?”
Valre snorted. “And now that you know the perils of over early breeding, I pray you’ll be more careful from hereon. No coupling until Harveth gives you leave, understand? And, oh yes, you’re to stay put for six months or until we’re both certain you’re completely recovered.”
Mered looked horrified. “You must be jesting!”
“I just performed surgery on you, Mered-min,” Valre sternly reminded him. “That is no trifling thing. You’ll behave yourself for six months or I’ll have Yovan lock you in your room.” He looked at Yovan. “I can depend on you to keep an eye on him, correct?”
Yovan was saved from having to answer when the practician came over with their child loosely wrapped in a blanket. He lay the babe in the circle of Mered’s arm and then joined the physicians as they left the apartment and headed to the dining room for a light meal Yovan had thought to arrange beforehand. Yovan knelt and gazed at his son in awe.
Ensconced in the natal shell which would protect and provide him sustenance for the first two weeks of life, the babe was hardly bigger than his hand. But he was nicely filled out for all his minuscule size and the intermittent flailing of his tiny limbs indicated strength. His hair was nearly the same hue as Mered’s and he was very fair-skinned. At one point he opened his eyes and allowed a glimpse of bright blue eyes. Yovan wondered who his son would look like most when he grew up or if he would inherit his and Mered’s features equally.
He ran a finger along the natal shell, noting its warmth and smoothness and how the firm surface gave way to the cushiony center on which his son lay. Shaped like half a hard-cooked egg, the shell was a dark beige streaked with what looked like pale blue veins. A fortnight hence, it would be a desiccated husk, the sustenance it produced steadily passing into the infant it cradled through the faintly pulsing light rose birth cord extending from the babe’s navel to disappear into the folds of the shell surface.
“He has your eyes,” Mered murmured.
Yovan detected the slight note of anxiety in his mate’s voice. It was apparent Mered was concerned their son had taken after him in coloring rather than Yovan. Given the resistance of some quarters to their marriage, it was not surprising Mered would have liked ample evidence of their child’s paternity. He smiled and ran his knuckles down Mered’s cheek.
“Indeed he does,” he said. “But even if he didn’t, I’d still deem him the most beauteous babe ever born.”
Mered gazed at him with shining eyes. “I’m truly blessed,” he whispered. He suddenly yawned and blinked. “Forgive me, I can scarcely keep my eyes open.”
“Don’t apologize for being exhausted, my sweet,” Yovan gently said. “Get some sleep. I’ll watch over him.”
“Wait, what shall we name him?” Mered mumbled as he struggled to stay awake a bit longer.
Yovan smiled. “I thought it would be fitting to name him after the Angel of joy and light.”
“Rysander Seydon thar Essendri,” Mered’s smile was radiant though his eyes were almost closed. “It’s perfect. You’re so wise, Van. So wise and wonderful...”
Yovan grinned as Mered stopped fighting the pull of slumber. He pressed a kiss to his mate’s forehead then stood and picked up Rysander.
Holding his infant son close, he shut his eyes and focused on creating the otherworldly plane of consciousness that facilitated long-distance mind-speech. The world around him vanished to be replaced by a windowless chamber suffused with a bluish luminescence. He let his thoughts wing their way to Rikara to tell his parents they had a grandson and inform Keldon and Dyrael of a new scion of House Essendri.
Within seconds, all four appeared before him, Laval very much dependent on Evran to maintain his presence. Yovan smiled gratefully at the royal couple as he sensed the mental boost they provided Laval to relieve Evran of some of the burden of sustaining his mate’s link.
He lifted his arms to show them his son and was immediately showered with felicitations.
“Veres be praised!” Evran tearfully gazed at his grandchild. “I didn’t think I’d live to see this day.”
“You’re not that old, Ama,” Yovan affectionately chided him. He looked at Keldon. “I hope you’ll deem it a blessing for our House to be enriched by yet another Seydon.”
Keldon laughed out loud. “You’ve grown cheeky. Is that what comes of siring a son? And a damn fine son at that!”
“Well, Rael says you strutted around like a peafowl when Rohyr was born.”
Dyrael chuckled. “You did, my love,” he reminded a pouting Keldon. “But rest assured you made a very fetching peafowl.”
He looked the babe over with interest. “He has Mered’s coloring, but I think in body he’ll be alike to you. There’s not a trace of the stockiness I’ve seen in the Cordonas.”
“He’s barely an hour old,” Yovan skeptically said. “Do you really think he’ll be alike to me in body?”
“Oh yes. Features cannot be determined so soon, but the build of our bodies shows from birth. Isn’t that so, Uncle Ev?”
Evran nodded. “It is so and thank Veres for that. I shouldn’t want my grandsons to look in any way like Asrael Cordona.”
“Ev!” Laval protested.
“Oh pish, you think so too.”
“But to state it so openly...”
“There, see? Your sire agrees with me, Van-min.”
Dyrael guffawed while Keldon’s mouth curved into a wide grin.
“I fear we must agree with Uncle Ev. Remir is pleasant-featured and not too bulky. But there must be peasant blood on Asrael’s side of the family. He’s nowhere near handsome and built like a gelric farmhand. I don’t wish his appearance on my nephew.”
“It’s their great luck none of his sons took after him,” Evran concurred. “Mered is the loveliest of them all and thus the most fortunate.”
“I sometimes wonder though where he got his beauty,” Laval admitted. “Remir is quite fair but he doesn’t even begin to approach Mered in comeliness. Verily, I haven’t seen any Cordona who does.”
“Mayhap a distant forebear was handsome enough and passed his comeliness to his descendants,” Keldon suggested. “Valre Sarvan has postulated that certain hereditary traits can skip a generation or even lie dormant for two or three and suddenly resurface in a descendant.”
Yovan considered the suggestion. “That makes sense. And it explains at least in part something that puzzled me from the first time I laid eyes on them.”
“What do you mean?” Laval asked.
“Mered looks nothing like his parents or brothers.”
That startled the others as well as triggered belated realization.
“Nor does he resemble any other of the Cordonas,” Evran put in. “How very odd. I believe Valre is correct and traits can lie dormant long enough to bypass several generations. But is it true of one’s facial features? I can imagine looking like one’s grandparent, but is it possible to resemble someone many generations removed? For that matter, does Mered have any forebears with beauty to match his?”
Laval shook his head. “There’s no way we can discover that without prying into their lives. Let’s just be grateful Rysander doesn’t seem to have inherited the undesirable traits of his father’s family.”
Yovan pursed his lips. “Save one perhaps.” They all stared at him questioningly. “He might be less gifted than would be expected of an Essendri.”
Keldon frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“I attempted to make contact with him in Mered’s fifth month,” Yovan explained. “There was no response. I’m not certain if it’s because he didn’t recognize me or hasn’t the gift to communicate from the womb. Mered was rather distraught about it. He blamed himself for perhaps diluting Rysander’s blood enough to diminish his giftedness.”
“That’s nonsense. It takes many such unions to affect a bloodline thusly.”
“I’ve told him so over and again. It took quite a while before he began to be assured it wasn’t his fault.”
“Then you must keep telling him until he fully believes you.”
“Besides, the absence of one doesn’t indicate an overall diminishment of all the mind gifts,” Dyrael added. “Even in our House there are some stronger or more talented than the others.”
Yovan nodded. “My thanks, Kel, Rael. You’ve soothed my worries immeasurably.”
Keldon smiled. “When will you return to Rikara?”
“In six months at the earliest. Master Sarvan wants Mered completely recovered before we attempt any travelling.”
“Even by translocation?” Evran grimaced. “I pray another half-year of country living doesn’t drive you up the walls.”
“We quite enjoy living here at Woodmere,” Yovan said. “So long as certain persons don’t stay too long when they visit, we’ll be content.”
“I hope you aren’t referring to us.”
“You know I don’t mean you, Rael! You and Kel will always be welcome to come and stay as long as you want.”
––––––––
Try as he might, Yovan could not quite extinguish the worry about his son’s giftedness or lack thereof. But he was careful not to reveal this to Mered lest it aroused his spouse’s shame and fear anew that he was responsible for it. He just hoped Imcael did not discover this fact about his new nephew.
The third day after Rysander’s birth, Yovan took him into the garden beneath their suite’s windows for some morning sun. He protectively cradled his son, letting Rysander grip a finger in his tiny hand. A welling of love for the babe overwhelmed him and he held Rysander as close as was possible with the natal shell between them. He pressed a tender kiss to his son’s fair curls, breathing in his sweet scent with quiet joy.
I love you, Rys. So very, very much.
An instant later, he caught his breath when he felt a thought touch his mind. It was not in the form of words but rather a sense of recognition and trust. It drove him to tears of happiness and gratitude. He gazed down at Rysander and swallowed a sob as his son stared back at him with a preternatural awareness only fulsomely gifted babes possessed. He laughed then and dropped kiss after kiss on Rysander’s head.
He hastened back to the master suite and burst into the bedchamber so suddenly and likely grinning like a loon, he startled Mered into a soft yelp and a wide-eyed stare.
“What in Aisen?” Mered said. “What has happened to make you so gleeful?”
Yovan sat beside him on the bed. He showed Rysander to him and announced, “Our son happened.” Chuckling at Mered’s bewildered expression, he said, “Rys reached out to me. He knew me for his sire!” As Mered’s eyes widened further in shock, Yovan added in a choked voice. “And he let me know that he trusts me. Sweet Veres, I never imagined it would feel like this.”
Mered’s eyes glittered. A moment later, tears trickled down his cheeks.
“Thank Veres almighty,” he whispered. “I was so worried—” He threw his arms around Yovan and their son. “I’m so glad! He’s perfect, isn’t he?”
Yovan smiled. “Even were he not gifted at all, he’s perfect as far as I’m concerned.”
He was rewarded with a fervent kiss which had him regretting they could not engage in love play just yet. Mered appeared to think likewise.
“When the healers permit us, we’ll celebrate,” he murmured as he peppered Yovan’s face and lips with kisses. “You have to promise to use me as thoroughly as you wish. To fill me up and ride me until I beg for mercy.”
Yovan groaned as certain parts down yonder responded to Mered’s words. “Saints, Mer! Do you wish for me to be hobbled by a stiff shaft?” He returned one of Mered’s kisses with nigh bruising intensity. “Indeed we’ll both be frustrated during the wait for you to recover fully. Please, my sweet, temper your tongue until we can put it to better use!”
––––––––
Valre wasted no time warning them not to try for another child until Mered was in his forties.
“Even did he not suffer the natal shell’s failure to detach from the womb walls, other complications could have easily made it a most difficult birthing,” the physician pointed out. “I’ve had patients whose wombs were overly damaged by much too early breeding and they’re the lucky ones. I’ve lost others too. I don’t want to add Mered to that woeful tally.”
Yovan nodded somberly. “But his womb wasn’t ruined, was it?”
“Nay, and we want to keep it that way if you want more children.”
“But I don’t!” Mered blurted. He flushed when the others stared at him in surprise. “I don’t mean more children,” he quickly corrected. “Only that I can’t bear to carry another child.”
“Mer—”
“I can’t, Van,” he adamantly declared. “I don’t want to go through that again. The pain was horrendous.”
“Then you won’t,” Yovan said. “Your well-being comes first. Watching you suffer was almost more than I could bear.”
Mered looked a little shamefaced. “But what about more children?” he reminded him. “You said you want two or three.”
“I do,” Yovan said. “But it needn’t be you alone who carries them.”
Valre’s eyebrows all but rose into his hairline.
“You’re thinking of carrying them?”
“Yes.”
The physician shook his head. “You’re an Essendri of direct line descent. No offense intended, but Mered is a commoner. You do realize it’s frowned upon in certain circles.”
“But not forbidden,” Yovan countered. “My father bore me.”
“Your parents were of an age that they had to maximize the chances of either of them conceiving a child,” Valre reminded him. “Moreover your sire is an aristocrat. So most accepted the circumstances.”
“Not to mention Ama was still not received at court,” Yovan dryly said. “I know there will be resistance from some quarters. But I want more children and if the only way to have them is to bear them myself, so be it.”
The healer sighed. “Your parents didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Yovan asked.
“Yovan-min, you can’t be a bearer.”
“Why not?”
“Evran asked me to examine you back when you were a toddler,” Valre explained. “He noticed when he washed you that you appeared to lack a seed channel.”
Yovan stared at him, dumbfounded. “But I do have one. Mer can attest to that.”
Valre raised a hand to forestall further responses. “When I examined you then, the entrance was almost closed and the channel itself so narrow, you might as well not have had a sheath. It eventually widened but so belatedly I examined you fully when you reached adolescence. Do you recall a visit where I went over you quite intrusively?”
Yovan caught his breath. “Yes. It was an embarrassing experience.”
Valre nodded. “I discovered your womb was underdeveloped. I monitored you for the next decade or so and that didn’t change.”
“Are you saying I’m a throwback to the gelra?” Yovan demanded in dismay.
“If you were a throwback to the males of that race, you would have neither womb nor sheath,” the healer pointed out. “Nay, this is a very rare condition. I’ve only come across a scant handful in all my years of practice. They vary widely in degree of severity.”
“From whom did I inherit it?” Yovan asked worriedly. “Sweet Veres, might I pass it to Rysander?”
“Rest assured, it isn’t hereditary,” Valre said. “It happens by chance and can happen to anyone, even members of the royal family. It’s no taint on your bloodline, Yovan-min, if that’s what troubles you. But unfortunately, it means you’re not physically equipped to be a childbearer.”
Yovan saw the physician out then returned to Mered. He sank down on the side of the bed and looked at his hands unseeingly. He felt Mered’s arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. Lips pressed comfortingly to the side of his neck. He turned his head to meet Mered’s gaze.
“All these years, I had no inkling I was defective,” he muttered.
Mered shook his head vehemently. “You aren’t defective,” he insisted. “It’s an unfortunate affliction and anyone can have it, even the Ardan. Thank Veres it’s very rare and not a danger to your health.”
Yovan wanly smiled. “Be that as it may, it still means I can’t carry a child.” He sighed. “I’d hoped for two; three if we shared being bearers.”
He saw Mered bite his lower lip to still it’s sudden quivering. “I really don’t want...” he said, his voice shaking. “I thought I would die from it. But if it’s the only way, I suppose I can—” He broke off and pressed his face into Yovan’s shoulder. “Nay, I can’t,” he said. “Just the thought of going through it again terrifies me! Please, Van, I—”
“Hush, my sweet,” Yovan cut him off. “You already did your part and so valorously at that. I can’t possibly ask more of you.”
Mered held him more tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what? Because you’re afraid to know such agony again? Such fright?” Yovan turned to face Mered fully and return his embrace. “Don’t apologize. In your shoes, I’d probably fare worse and turn craven too.”
He would not deny he was disappointed Rysander would be an only child. But if that was what Veres had willed for them, so be it.