Page 31 of The King's Menagerie

Thankfully, Nadir did not seem to suffer from the inattentive sucking, spilling down his throat just moments before Shafiq spilled inside him. He was weak and trembling as they pulled out and arranged him on the bed, Nadir peppering him with kisses as Shafiq wrapped a large hand around him and stroked Berkant to his finish.

"Next time I will get my mouth on you," Shafiq murmured as he took some more kisses of his own as Nadir left and came almost immediately back with warm water and rags to clean them up. Then the lights were put out, leaving them in only moonlight as Shafiq settled on his right and Nadir on his left, and for the first time in a very long time, Berkant went to sleep feeling only happiness.

The Meerkat

Ender arrived barely ahead of a sandstorm and took shelter in the first building he saw that was still open, which proved to be a wine café. "My pardon, good sir."

"No bother, no bother," the man replied. "Help me finish with these shutters. Divine, this was the last thing I needed today."

Laughing in sympathy and agreement, Ender helped him get all the shutters closed up tight and barred the door.

Just in time, as everything started to bang and clatter, sand descending on them worse than any rain shower. Not that he'd ever seen a rain shower, not since he was a child. He'd heard they were more common here, by the coast, and was eager to learn if that was true.

For the present, though, he pulled a coin from his purse. "Could I get some wine to clear the road dust from my throat, good sir?"

"Of course, of course." The man caught the coin as Ender tossed it. "Any preferences?"

"I trust you entirely." He was a student on scholarship; he drank whatever he could afford. Normally he wouldn't have money for such a self-indulgent splurge, but after the heart attack-inducing letter he'd received, had gone all the way home to open, since it had been delivered there rather than to the university, his parents had been… strange.

Quiet, far more quiet than he'd expected. Generous, alarmingly so, with food, money, supplies… Like they were eager to help him on his way—or apologizing for something.

To Master Ender Marongoz,

Son of Master and Mistress Marongoz

House of Green, Street of Stars

City of Basharin, Province of Fenn-Bar

Master Ender Marongoz,

His Royal Majesty King Shafiq Tavashta requests you come immediately to the Royal Palace of Tavamara for a private audience. If you cannot come, please notify the messenger at once of your reasons. If you require assistance in your journey, it will be provided. Otherwise, send by messenger the estimated date of your arrival.

Do not discuss this private matter further than you must. Should you run into trouble along the way, contact us via the royal guards or an official messenger.

We eagerly await your arrival.

Sincerely,

Lady Latif Uzun

Royal Steward of Tavamara

To say he was scared to death was putting it mildly.

He was the son of carpenters; was in school to earn a degree in architecture; and in his free time he wrote poetry and daydreamed about a life more exciting than designing shops and homes, a life of glamor and music, of dancing and poetry.

Now he was being summoned to a private audience with the king. He must have done something wrong, but in the two weeks he'd been traveling across the kingdom, he could not think of a single thing he'd done that would provoke this sort of response.

Right now, exhausted and frayed at the edges, he no longer had energy to spare on it. Instead, he thanked the caféproprietor for the wine and snacks that were added in thanks for his assistance and enjoyed his moment of quiet.

The wine was a good one, though he wasn't experienced enough to know its name. Pale purple, on the bitter side, a perfect compliment for the sweet treats that accompanied it.

Wine was most often meant to be shared, but for the entirety of his adult life, Ender had always drunk alone. Too poor to go out with friends, too rural for all his polished city classmates.

He didn't mind though. It meant he could work on his poetry in peace, drink and eat what he wanted, didn't have to endure the noise and chaos of crowds…

Could be achingly lonely and miserable without witnesses.

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