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Ylandre, in the 3017th Year of the Common Age
Following the Interregnum and upon his ascension to the Ylandrin throne, Diorn Essendri abolished the Viarla, a rank below the Herune and above the barons or theina. The shire-lords who had supported the rebel Prince Rovar he stripped of high station and reduced them and their families to mere aristocrats. Those who proved their loyalty to the Crown, he rewarded with elevation to the highest noble rank of Herun.
Thereafter only the king and fief-lords could rule. Since the majority of the great fiefs came to be held by members of House Essendri and other close supporters, Diorn was able to concentrate power in the hands of a trusted few. Doing so allowed him to consolidate his control of Ylandre and prevent another attempt at usurpation or unrest to the destructive and divisive degree his brother had wrought on the kingdom.
Twelve hundred years later, Rohyr Essendri reversed that decree and reinstated the Viarla, conferring the ancient hereditary title on kith and kin he could trust with the order and defense of the kingdom. He also created two new barons and four herunic subsidiary titles which enabled the pertinent fief-lord’s heirs to be styled Viarla.
The restored shires were located nigh to the marches and shores of Ylandre close to border fiefs. In one stroke, by putting indisputably loyal Herune and marcher lords in defensive locations, Rohyr further secured Crown land against insurrection as in Tenerith, foreign incursion by the likes of Teraz and Cattania or invasion by hostile overseas nations.
The investiture ceremony took place at the start of summer, before the seasonal heat invaded Rikara.
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Yovan smiled in delight as Rohyr formally created Dylen Viarl of Lyndhon and decreed he be styled a Royal Highness which was the birthright of the eldest son of the Ardis Dyrael Essendri. Located on the northern border to the south of the Autonomous Province of Fenycia, Lyndhon was a vast tract of fertile plains and verdant hills rich with deposits of precious stones. It had never been incorporated into the neighboring fiefs but remained royal property directly administered by the Crown.
Surprising almost everyone save the few in his confidence, Rohyr restored Imcael’s princely title. As a conciliatory gesture, Rohyr made his uncle His Royal Highness Prince Imcael, Herun of Qimaras. And since Imcael’s subsidiary title was one of those newly created, his eldest son was now His Highness Lord Mahael, Viarl of Veslad. The defunct shire lay to the east of Qimaras near the well-fortified border between Ylandre and the principality of Cattania.
Loyal Ronuin was likewise created a Viarl though unlike Mahael his was a substantive title. He too was invested with a shire within Imcael’s sphere of influence in southeastern Ylandre. Carved out of northern Velarus, Gwinor lay just south of Anju. Thus the small fief now ruled by a Kardova loyal to the Crown was virtually sandwiched between two royal shires and all three would serve as a collective warning and bulwark against incursions into the kingdom by hostile Cattania.
When it was his turn to bend his knee to Rohyr, Yovan could scarcely believe it was happening. He’d never imagined he would bear a title. Not with Gilvreth’s proscription hanging over his family.
Unexpectedly, Rohyr created Yovan His Grace the Viarl of Camdon. It was an unusual departure from custom as the style was normally reserved for Herune. Historical precedent however confirmed it had been used in times past with Essendris of direct royal descent who were neither immediate nor first-degree kin to the reigning Ardan. Rohyr had never been above using loopholes to achieve his ends and he now put this particular one to good use stating that the high form of address befitted a great-grandson of the Ardan Varael.
The territory that comprised the ancient shire was near the northern marches east of Vireshe and encompassed several Vireshin towns and cities including Embrith and the land Woodmere occupied. Since the title had been non-existent for over a millennium, it enabled Rohyr to get around Gilvreth’s stipulation that disallowed Andrion’s descendants from being granted extant titles. It also rendered moot the proviso that none of Andrion’s family could be addressed as nobles for so long as they were untitled. As Yovan’s consort, Mered assumed the title of Vierl while Rysander received the courtesy title of Lord Rysander Seydon of Camdon.
Rohyr had also found the means by which to confer a title on his Great-Uncle Evran. It took much legal discourse by the most learned Crown lawyers, but they were able to establish that Evran could derive a courtesy title from his son’s noble rank and so would not fall under the proscription leveled on his disgraced sire and his descendants.
Yovan struggled with happy tears as he witnessed his aged father’s joy and pride when he was named Lord Evran Seydon thar Essendri. He rejoiced that Evran’s Essendri blood and the longevity that came with it had enabled his ama to see his line and himself restored to the titled nobility. Yovan briefly touched the waterstone-adorned gold earring on his left ear. The bright blue gem was the emblematic stone of the shire-lords and their spouses whereas an olive green verdantine gleamed in the center of Rysander’s silver earring.
If only Aba had lived to witness this, he wistfully thought.
One by one, the others genuflected before Rohyr as they were invested with their new titles, each Deir flanked by his closest family—spouses, parents and children. The volume of murmurs rose and fell with each proclamation.
“Keosqe, Thein Deilen... His lordship Keosqe, Viarl of Cardith.”
“Zykriel, Thein Calanthe... His lordship Zykriel, Viarl of Velare.”
“Aeldan, Thein Mithani... His lordship Aeldan, Viarl of Davaris.”
“Lord Keiran Arthanna... His lordship the Viarl of Santhe.”
“Lord Jareth Hadrana... His lordship the Viarl of Rothsey.”
“Lord Ashrian Mithani... His lordship the Viarl of Wydara.”
“Master Hedhral Viraz... His lordship the Viarl of Avarin.”
“General Gared Arval... Gared, Thein Arval.”
“First Elder Dael Idana... Dael, Thein Idana.”
There was nearly a shout of surprise when it was announced that the Desir barony close to the southern bounds of Edessa would be elevated to a shire upon the demise of the current Thein Desir. As his heir was none other than the middle son of the Herun of Edessa, Tribune Ranael Mesare ar Henaz of the Royal Army would inherit his uncle’s lands and assume the title Viarl of Wycomb.
The new Baron Arval murmured to Yovan, “I daren’t look at Endrin right now. He’s probably all red-jowled with pride and puffed up like a gobbler. It isn’t a good look on him, I promise you.”
Mered glanced at Yovan frowningly when he started coughing after stifling the explosive snort of laughter the officer’s comment about Ranael’s sire induced.
Not surprisingly, they had refused to invite any of the Cordonas lest they used the occasion to try and ingratiate themselves once more with members of House Essendri. As it was, they were struggling to rebuild their standing among the bluebloods of the land, a standing that swiftly eroded once word of their sordid dealings got out courtesy of a vengeful Rysander. Rather than be embroiled in the ensuing scandals, Yovan and Mered turned their backs on the lot of them and enjoyed the fruits of their reinvigorated love and marriage instead.
Yovan looked back on the struggle to get to this point in their lives. This deep-seated happiness that came of both good and bad.
It had been by no means smooth or easy. Their first night back together had only been a beginning. Anger, frustration and heartache had littered the terrain as they journeyed toward full forgiveness and reconciliation. There had been times when memory had almost overcome reason and he’d thought himself unable to get past the hurt and anger of betrayal. Mered would then wallow in self-hatred and the belief he did not deserve Yovan.
Rysander and even Rohyr had acted as liaisons between them a number of times when the remembered pain became too much for Yovan and he would distance himself from Mered for a space. But never more than a few days. He’d found he could not stay away from his mate too long as he had when they were estranged. And he would always come back to a distraught Mered who’d spent their days apart in tears and prayer.
His spouse would eagerly welcome him home, his relief and happiness palpable to even the mind-blind among the servants. Mered would then insist on secluding themselves in their quarters all day and shower all his love and longing on Yovan with abandon.
That had assured Yovan they were healing. When the need to be together, to love and be loved, defeated hurtful remembrance and crushing remorse.
The rewards had been more than he’d expected or hoped for. They’d learned not to dwell on the past, but rejoice in the present. That while it was not always possible to forget, they could choose what memories to savor and use them to further strengthen their union. They’d returned to knowing joy and contentment just being in the same room. And the passionate couplings of their bodies seemed more meaningful and shattering in intensity than when they were newlyweds.
Most gratifying of all in Yovan’s opinion were the gratitude and blatant adoration that shone in Mered’s eyes whenever his mate gazed at him whether they were alone in their bedchamber in the deeps of the night or amidst a crowd in the great reception hall of the Citadel. The latter was enough to reduce Yovan to blushes and the former oft spurred him into showing Mered just how deeply he loved and desired him.
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Mered gasped as he was relentlessly plowed. He clutched at the headboard to keep from scooting upward. Saints! Yovan was fucking him as if this would be their last time ever. He cried out softly as a particularly deep thrust set off virtually all the nerve endings in his sheath.
Since their reconciliation, Yovan preferred to start off their lovemaking with genital intercourse so he would not have to interrupt their bed-play with washing up as would be the case if they began with anal penetration. Mered did not mind the new pattern, but he had teased Yovan that it said much about his libidinousness. Because of course his sexually voracious mate was never satisfied with just two rounds or three of carnal union. Nor did Yovan like limiting them to just one method of copulation in the space of a night, morning or afternoon. Indeed, they’d been going at it since their return to Woodmere, taking turns tupping each other every which way every single day in celebration of Yovan’s investiture.
This eve Yovan had indicated a desire for them to couple in as many ways he could think of and as many times as was possible. Mered marvelled at his mate’s vigor and ability to come back from an orgasm with hardly any rest before embarking on the next bout.
It’s the Essendri blood in him, Mered deliriously concluded as Yovan’s thrusts quickened and deepened.
He reached for his shaft but Yovan batted his hand aside and wrapped his own fingers around the aching column instead. He stroked it almost in time with his thrusts which soon tipped Mered over the edge. Rapture abruptly erupted until he was virtually screaming the estate down so explosive was his climax.
Scarcely had the surging sensations started to fade when Yovan suddenly stiffened and with a loud groan followed by harsh gasps, spent himself in what seemed like an endless stream. Mered braced himself for a second climax as Yovan’s semen flowed into his womb and infiltrated his seedbed. He reared upward as his womb flared with heat and the spasms wrought by the invading seed set off another orgasm.
Mered sobbed helplessly as he was wracked anew by intense pleasure. He clutched at Yovan as the wonderful sensations seemed to never end. Neither did the heat. He caught his breath as a long abandoned hope penetrated his ecstasy-fogged mind. Was it his imagination or was the warmth in his belly lingering and intensifying?
He tried to corral his thoughts and tamp down on his body’s reaction to the pleasure still surging through him. He had to tell Yovan. But it appeared his mate had other plans and they did not include having a conversation mid coitus. Mered moaned as he felt Yovan’s erection inside him revive slowly but steadily, filling and stretching him from within and rubbing against the walls of his sheath to produce the delicious friction that always drove him wild.
Tonight was no exception and as soon as Yovan resumed thrusting into him, Mered forgot what he’d planned to tell him. Coupled with the increased libido a breeding Deir experienced almost from the the moment of conception, it was no wonder he could not gather his wits long enough to think with any coherence. Not to mention his need to be fucked had not diminished at all. In that one instant, reason overcame sensation as Mered realized his hope had come to fruition.
He was no Essendri. His lust should have flagged for the next several minutes or so. But, nay, he was eager to be speared again. Famished for it as if he and Yovan had not coupled in weeks. But before he could give voice to his discovery, sensation once more shunted reason to the recesses of his mind. Yovan was pounding him into the mattress and all Mered could do was surrender himself to the bliss of his connubial ravishment.
Much, much later, he moaned as Yovan pulled out of him. Veres almighty! Despite having been roundly buggered following another two rounds of genital coupling, he still yearned to feel his mate’s shaft inside him. Mered tried to recall if it had been like this when he conceived Rysander.
He turned to Yovan and hurried into his arms, partly shifting atop him to press his face into a shoulder. He took a few deep breaths, relishing their mingled scents on Yovan’s skin after a thorough rutting. At length, he dropped a kiss on Yovan’s shoulder then raised himself on one arm to gaze down at his mate. His beautiful, incomparable, unbelievably virile mate.
“Mer?” Yovan murmured, peering up at him curiously. “You have the oddest look on your face. What is it?”
Mered smiled. “I was only wondering how long it will take before you can tup me again. Preferably twice or even thrice more.”
Yovan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re quite the randy one tonight. Mayhap more so than I.” He chuckled. “The last time you were this insatiable was decades back when—” Yovan’s eyes suddenly narrowed then widened in clear shock. “Are you...”
Mered beamed joyously at him. “Yes, ariad. I believe I am.”