Page 157 of Shadows in Bloom

“Oh, so are we,” Fabiano whispered, and he threw Astor a knowing grin. “How long do you think, brother? How long before you’ve got him crawling on a leash?”

CHAPTER 3

After the welcome ceremony, all groups were taken to their own, separate wings to get ready for the games. With little less than an hour to settle in before they were expected back onto the field, they had no time to lose.

House Staljord, who had sent twelve novitiates, was taken to the first floor, which they shared with House Gaeta, the barbarians, who had sent ten. Downstairs, House Novar was taken west, making them stay right below the northerners. House Akotan was taken east, and their eight novitiates didn’t hide their relief knowing that they were closest to Novar. After all, they had mostly fought together during the war, a given that had brought them closer together.

“Where is House Darmayar staying?” Astor asked the clerk who walked in front of them. The man, who seemed to be somewhere in his forties, wore a white toga with a broad golden border, making him look more like a priest of one of the temples they had built in Nethyr, than a university clerk. Perhaps he volunteered to aid the university at the beginning of the school year in welcoming its novitiates.

“Here we are,” the man replied instead, gesturing to a slave who was waiting to open the double doors for the Novarians. The woman pushed on the wooden panels that gave way with a tired sigh, revealing a sunny, open terrace. “Theós amores,” the clerk touched his temple with both fingertips, showing where his loyalty lied. “For our champions.”

Astor took in a few steps, then halted, taking in the space they’d occupied last year. “Home, sweet home.”

“Yup, frater, we’re back,” said Fabiano. They all followed him in, crowding the large, open terrace. Once everybody had made their entrance and the door was safely shut behind them, Astor clapped in his hands. All novitiates gathered around him. Slaves took that command to move back and stand against the wall, their shoulders heavy with suitcases and other travel gear that had been brought along the journey.

Astor tipped his chin to the place where they were standing. “Everybody. Here you are in House Novar. No one else comes in here but us. Blood-red and gold reigns here, do you all understand? This is a safe place,” Astor continued, ignoring how Cosmo rolled his eyes at that, and looked at the surrounding novitiates who all nodded their heads in agreement. “And there will come a moment this year that you will remember my words. Now…”

A loud bang on the door interrupted Astor’s speech and he frowned, annoyed, before he recognized the loud voice. “Novarians, the Nomos Doulos has been accepted. You have thirty minutes before the games begin!”

Astor chuckled inwardly. Their father really was everywhere. More importantly, he had managed to force the hand into their advantage, had granted Astor’s wish. That was…something heavy pounding in the pit of his stomach, making it clench with anxiety and excitement simultaneously. It was great news, but it also meant that he had to win today’s final game. Yet if he did…

How long before you’ve got him crawling on a leash?

Blood ran south with alarming speed, making his cock rouse. Medea, this was not the right moment. He’d first need to win. Vanity was a sin the goddess knew everything about.

Clearing his throat, he gestured with his hands. “Alright everyone, we’ve heard the man. Let’s get to it. Third and fourth years, find suitable accommodation to your right. First years, go with them and pick your room after your senior has chosen theirs. Second years, come with me.”

As the majority of novitiates turned to their designated side, Astor turned to Melas. The slave’s pale cheeks were flushed from exertion as he stood waiting with the pile of luggage Astor had brought for this year. “I’ll have the first room on the left. Get my room in order please, and fill the bath. I wish to have a quick splash before we start the games.”

He watched the slave bow, nearly toppling over the entire luggage, then stepped back to the main entrance to ensure himself that no one lingered with what little time they had.

Moving toward the cast iron balustrade, Astor took in a deep breath. He gazed over the entirety of the building, which was built in two wings that met each other right across from him where the athenaeum was situated, one of the few common grounds where all four nations would frequently spend time together. Five, he corrected himself, and he kept his unblinking eyes straight ahead as he looked at the study facilities that were situated right under the library. From their rooms, they had an excellent view of those shared spaces and they’d be able to keep an eye out for one another.

A valuable advantage.

“If there isn’t anything else you need from me, I shall leave you to yourselves.” The clerk stood left by the door, and Astor had forgotten that the man was still there.

“Sisto,” Astor said, when the clerk turned to leave. A few seconds passed as the man slowly turned back over his shoulder. “You never told me where the Damaryans are staying.”

The clerk shuffled on his feet, uncomfortable. Then he coughed politely, a hand in front of his mouth.

“Surely that can’t be a secret now, can it?” Astor’s voice softened. “After all, we are all going to be one, big, happy family at the academy, aren’t we?” When the clerk didn’t answer, simply stood there, gaze dropped to his own feet, Astor chuckled. “We are one, big, happy family here, right?” Their eyes met. “I’ll hide the blood very well.” He jutted his chin toward the door. “I won’t be needing your services right now. But stay around, will you? That might just change.”

His bath was ready.

Astor gave his bedroom an appreciative glance as he stalked over the threshold and onto the carpeted floors.

“Tell the slaves to check on the horses. Not you,” he added, brushing a hand over Melas’s arm as he passed him. “You simply give them my order, then come back here. You have exactly thirty seconds. I don’t have much time before I’m needed out there.”

Once he was alone, Astor took in a deep breath. It was good to be back here. His room was luscious, yet practical—a large bed with silken, golden sheets, a desk and chair for him to study in private. The ensuite bathroom was adorned with white and golden tiles, the large bath taking up most of its size. It was filled to the brim, vaporising with heat and incense that encompassed the unmistakable earthy, spicy and slightly sweet aroma of patchouli Astor loved so much.

It reminded him of home.

Behind him, the apparent footsteps of Melas as he came back from giving his orders, the apprehension in those soft thuds as he entered the bathroom. Astor turned around to face the boy, linking a hand through his unruly curls, enjoying how Melas flinched at the touch.

“They made quite the entrance, don’t you think? Those Damaryans.” He brought the boy’s fingers to his own back, where they started to unfurl the lace strings that kept the material of his shiny, black suit together. Melas didn’t answer, just focused on the job, lips tightly pressed together from the effort. And from their closeness. Because they stood so close their chests practically touched.

Astor grinned into the silence. “You know, I never wondered where you came from. How silly of me. But seeing that little display earlier…” Grabbing the slave’s chin between two thumbs, he forced him to look up. “All this time I had my own little Damaryan sitting on my lap.” He brushed a curl from Melas’s forehead. “Go and prepare my clothes for me, then come back here.” Digging his fingers a little deeper into the boy’s flesh, Astor’s eyes flared when he caught sight of the reddening skin. He pulled him closer, enjoying how Melas trembled in fear. “It’s been too long since you’ve had a bath.”

---