Page 98 of Bloom
By the fourth night, he hadn’t bothered to bandage the cuts on his back, and even if he did start bleeding, it would show since he’d chosen to wear a black shirt. The servants wouldn’t notice anything. Anytime he noticed a spot on his clothes, he soaked them in cold water to get rid of it.
Unfortunately, his ex-lover was still friends with his clueless Father, and he sat at dinner that night. Aleric almost wanted to turn around and leave the Hall when he entered to see Gautier at the High Table by Lord Monet.
He forced himself to sit. He might as well get used to it. Gautier yakked to Father all through dinner with the occasional distraction from Zacharie. Aleric was barely able to eat, and he was practically afraid to move, like prey terrified to draw the attention of a predator.
“So much for the kops he saved here and there with his ship at the bottom of the ocean now.” Lord Monet snorted.
“Some people have to learn the hard way.” Gautier chuckled and clapped Aleric on the back right where the metal had struck a couple of times. “Right?”
Aleric stiffened as Father laughed. “People like that never learn. They’d skin a flea for its hide.”
“What’s wrong with you, Aleric?” Gautier asked, like an old family friend who’d never beat anyone.
Aleric’s whole face prickled, and he was tempted to empty his barely touched wine in one go. Anything to distract him and numb the shame.
“Bad day?” asked Gautier.
“Don’t mind him,” said Lord Monet. “He’s barely talked to me in days. You’d think he was fifteen, not twenty.”
“Father, look,” Zacharie said, drawing their attention away.
“Get the spoon off your nose.”
Aleric forced in another bite of spinach and wished the floor would open and swallow him whole.
***
He never told Clementine as the time went by.
She also didn’t know how he couldn’t bring himself to go to bed with a courtier. He couldn’t let anyone into his bed. All he could think of was that they’d turn on him too, and he’d find himself bloody on his bedroom floor again. Or worse. When he went to the whorehouse to get relief that his hand couldn't quite match because he still craved touch, he couldn’t bring himself to pay and let a whore pound him.
It would put him in a vulnerable position. If Gautier could pretend for two years, shred it all to pieces, and beat him, how could he trust any man?
He topped the whores when he went. Of course, putting his dick in a tight hole felt good, and it got the job done so he wasn’t stuck with only his hand or a toy. He told himself he’d get used to it, and it was some form of contact even though he wouldn’t let himself kiss the whores either. Sex was fine if he was in full control and not the vulnerable one. He’d live if nobody ever tied him up or did any of the dirty things he loved so much.
He felt like a fraud. It wasn’t what he truly wanted and craved, and he didn’t know how to get what he desired anymore. The potential risks were too great.
Clementine had been gone for about a year when he noticed Gautier and Zacharie leaving the entrance hall together one morning. At first, he thought it was a coincidence. Several courtiers were going on a ride, so they happened to walk out at the same time.
A few nights later, Zacharie, who’d never been good at discretion, went to sit with Gautier at his table in the Hall, and judging by his face, it was obvious why. He’d only turned eighteen a couple of months ago.
“Are you going to do something about that?” Aleric asked Father with more of an attitude than he’d intended.
“Huh?”
“Your teenage son is sitting with Gautier and looking at him like the sun shines out of his ass.”
Father glanced over. “Okay?”
“Okay?”
“Zacharie admitted to me a couple of days ago that they’ve been seeing each other in secret. I’m not sure how serious it is.”
Aleric stared at him. “And?”
“And what?”
“You’re fine with that?”
