Page 165 of Shadows in Bloom

“Bath, please, Melas.”

“Dominus.” The boy rushed away.

Astor turned to Fabiano. “Of course not. Do you need anything else? Anyone?”

Anything. He’d give his brother anything.

Anyone. He’d bring his brother anyone. The thought left him feeling guilty that he hadn’t considered asking Fabiano if he had wanted to receive the Nomos Doulos. He would be his brother’s saviour, just like he would be his country’s. Wanted to be what was good in this world.

“I’m fine, Lyssipos.” Fabiano sounded tired. Astor watched him walk toward his own bedroom, then carefully shut the door.

“D’acc,” he whispered against the silence. “D’acc.”

For the second time today he found himself in the luxurious bathroom, only this time he had more time to enjoy the view. Aside from Melas, who was bent forward as he checked the temperature of the running tap, Astor enjoyed the way that they had added the mirrors during the summer break. Just as he had requested, they covered the four walls, making the bathing space look even more spacious. On each corner of the tub stood beautifully curved bottles with oil and flowers. A soft melody played from outside the rooms, most likely meant to bring some relaxing entertainment to all novitiates, a hum of strings that smoothly braided into the lingering silence. Dipping into the bath, Astor sat down, then leaned further backwards until his head hit the mirror at the wall, sank all the way into the hot bath until it was only his throat and face that was exposed to the cool bathroom air. His straining muscles started to relax as time passed. He closed his eyes drift and inhaled his favourite scent of mint, honey and citrus, the basic ingredients for his beloved eucalyptus. Let his mind drift off to today’s events. Of arriving at the Academy and being reunited with fellow Novarians. Of Gaetan’s presence. Of the games and its outcome.

Of the unexpected arrival of Damaryan.

His stomach fluttered.

Astor thought of their peculiar clothes that made them look like ancient warriors who appeared in tales that were written in books. Of those honey-curled locks and green, green eyes. They were an attractive people, there was no denying that. But that one boy stood out… Illias Mothvora. He felt his cock twitch at the thought of pride. Of anger. Of beauty.

“Melas.” The boy slid down to his knees and placed his head on the rim of the bath. Astor petted his hair, brushing the strands with his fingers as he let his mind roam. “Hide and seek, my beautiful slave. Can you do a background check for me?”

“Yes, Dominus,” the boy answered without hesitation.

“Good. Good. Now, help me get dressed. House Akotan will soon be here.”

He chose to wear traditional Novarian clothes for the meeting. Identical to what Comso had worn in the arena before, Astor dressed himself in short pants and a blood-red cape. His chest and abs got drenched in special oil that made his skin shimmer.

In their communal area, his brother’s two slaves were waiting, their backs plastered against the wall, in full position despite their Dominus being absent.

“Let my brother rest,” Astor ordered.

They tipped their heads in reply, and he left them there as he and Melas took off to Cosmo’s room.

The corridor was still quiet, with no sign of any visitors yet. His friend’s female slaves let him inside the dimly lit room in silence, where he was guided toward a comfortable chaise longue. The room smelled of lavender and rosemary—the remainders of a steaming bath.

He was served water and wine in the sweet, dim light.

“A gift from the Hortator family,” spoke his friend. Cosmo was sprawled onto his bed, wearing nothing but his short pants. In his right hand, he carried a similar cup to that of Astor, his right hand leaned onto a naked hip. When their eyes met, he tipped his cup and took a drink.

“There is no such thing as a gift,” Astor replied.

“True.” Cosmo squeezed the naked flesh he held in his grip and smiled when the boy let out a guttural, muffled moan.

“You gagged him?”

“I did.” Cosmo slowly caressed the boy’s flesh. “The Hortators want their daughter to graduate safely.”

Martha Hortator was the only fourth year student Novar had and the only child of the largest wine producing family in Oniarteto. Right now, wine in Oniarteto was exclusively made in Novar, because some of the parties of their vast county had the typical hot summers and cool waters the alcoholic refreshment needed. Therefore, the Hortator family was a powerful one, their daughter a pawn in the game of politics. She’d be granted a diplomatic position once she’d graduate from the Academy.

Astor sucked in his bottom lip as he considered those words. On the bed, Cosmo leaned in and dribbled some of his wine onto Basil’s hip, then bent forward and slurped the drink from his body. The Damaryan grunted, rocking his hips forcefully in an attempt to escape, revealing the silver cuffs that were tightly closed around his wrists. Cosmo chuckled as he came back up, dipping his finger through his spit. “That’s right. Fight me, little Tydon,” he murmured.

“Martha has made a few enemies last year,” Astor thought out loud. “And from what her guards told us, she already made a few the year before.”

“That’s right. She doesn’t have many friends, but we still need to get her to graduate in June.”

“How are we going to do that?” Astor held out his empty glass and watched as Cosmo toyed with the plug that was snugly viced between the Damaryan’s ass cheeks, circling it, pulling it, softly chuckling as the Damaryan mewled against the gag. Melas surged forward and refilled his drink.

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