Page 114 of Bloom
Aleric didn’t appear very thrilled. Jaime wished he could find words to fix everything and make him see he wasn’t being lured into another horrible situation.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aleric hadn’t been to the beach in a while. The last time he’d gone, it had been with Clementine the day after they’d married to enjoy a little peace and quiet before separating.
Part of him wished he’d been completely honest, never hidden his relationship with Gautier, and told her what had happened. Instead, he’d worked like an actor to appear completely normal, and he’d focused on her issues instead. It had been something he could help her with, and he hadn’t felt like anyone could help him. At the time, he hadn’t known his life would be in danger, and who could undo the past?
If she’d known, and he could tell her that he was afraid to let Jaime in and why, maybe she could give him advice.
But she’d be worried about him, and he’d rather she be happy with her wife.
He missed Mighty too since the spare horse he’d been using just wasn’t the same. Father had asked him at breakfast if he wanted to announce his coming marriage or if he wanted to wait until tomorrow morning. Aleric had said to wait. He needed another day. Father had announced, to the court’s displeasure, that they'd be leaving.
Soon, everyone would guess he was pregnant, although they wouldn’t spring that news right away. He could imagine the various cousins thinking he was a whore who’d ridden his aid’s cock for fun so soon. They’d mutter in private about the cold son and possibly feel sorry for Jaime while at the same time wondering if he’d intended to pull himself higher. Joy.
Father had said he should tell Zacharie in private that he was about to be an Uncle. Zacharie would probably be a nasty little shit about it and call him a whore right to his face.
With all of that, it was hard to relax, and he said so to Jaime.
“They might call you a whore too. And a title chaser who hoped to chain me to you by getting me up the stick.”
“So? They’ll be gone soon. You don’t seem close to any of them anymore, and they’re leeches for living at Lord Monet’s home. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason they’re around, right?”
“Yeah…He likes having a court, and it’s not the Royal Court, but it’s close enough for them. They get to do whatever they want. A couple of distant cousins don’t live here, but they own slaves, and they know how my Father feels about that even though he won’t directly insult the last King over it.”
“I never understood why King Jean thinks it lowers crime. I don’t think it does, and the concept is disgusting. Rowland thinks Soleil is disgusting, and Finkin refused to form an alliance with them before the war. You’d think something would have clicked in his head. I don’t mean to disrespect a dead King, but it’s not something I can ever agree with.”
“Me neither.” Aleric looked out over the ocean as his horse shifted on the sand. “Prince Sébastien might outlaw slavery. He doesn’t own one, and it’s said he doesn’t truly approve of it. I’m not sure if that’s true or a lie.”
“He won’t be on the throne for a few years.”
“As for the court, I’m sure they’re all complaining since Father told them to start making plans to leave. It’ll be a relief to have peace at home. Maybe we can see if Zacharie and Gautier can be sent to Narter.”
Jaime leaned over to brush back a strand of Aleric’s hair, and the gesture almost made him jump. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.”
“Pfft.”
“Let’s go to the tree line and get some shade.”
The horses were content to take a break too. A few boulders made a decent spot to sit so they didn’t have to worry about getting sand in their trousers. Jaime sat on a lower portion. Aleric was about to pick a spot a little higher and flat enough for a single bottom to sit on, so Jaime couldn’t get closer and do anything untoward.
He was supposed to be trying, and even Father thought he was ridiculous for being so suspicious. Then again, Father’s opinion on the matter as a whole didn’t count for much since he’d believed Zacharie instead.
Aleric forced himself to sit next to Jaime. His future husband could have already hurt him before and done many untoward things, and he hadn’t. After the incident with Aleric telling him he was pushy, there hadn’t been any grabbing or cock-sucking jokes. That had to count for something, right? He’d also never struck him, despite Aleric being a dick at times.
Maybe things would be all right for a while. Or maybe he’d truly meant it when he said he’d never abuse Aleric.
He wished he could see into the future and know. What if Jaime never physically hurt him, but they fought all of the time later because they ended up hating each other's guts?
Dear Elira, what if he had a disgusting kink that he expected Aleric to fulfill, and they constantly had to bitch and argue about it? Even without violence, Aleric didn’t want to be continuously asked or begged to do certain activities, and it’d be horrifying to find out in a month that Jaime wanted to pee on him. Or worse.
“Are we going to consummate this on our wedding night?” Aleric asked bluntly. They’d be married in about a week and a half, and polite people wouldn’t mention the baby being born over a month early.
Jaime glanced at him. “That’s up to you.”
Too open-ended. “What do you expect to happen on our wedding night?”
“I just said it’s up to you.”
