He opens one of the small boxes with a loud pop, and inside is a round, silver disc. He turns away from me, then kneels in front of the large black TV, similar to the one Everest enjoyed so much at Rathyn’s apartment.
I don’t know much about it other than it shows recorded images of humans doing random things like cooking, or kissing, or fighting. I didn’t understand the purpose then, but it brought Everest joy, so I assumed it was a very uniquely human thing.
He inserts the disc into another black square machine, and after a moment, music starts to play.
“Welcome to Introductory ASL,” a voice says, soft and soothing.
Luca holds up one finger, then pushes buttons on a thing that looks like a long phone before coming to sit beside me. ‘Watch,’ he signs, then hits a button.
A moment later, there are four children and one maternal-looking human female, and they’re signing rapidly. I can follow some words, but not all of them.
“Hello, friends,” the woman says and signs. “Today we’re all going to learn about our favorite colors. Are you excited?”
The kids all wave their hands in the air.
Luca hits a button again, then presses the device against my palm and points to a button. “Play,” he says, “to start the video. Pause,” he shows me another one, “if you want to stop. Dante will help with the rest when he gets home from work.”
I can tell Luca doesn’t use his voice much. It’s raspy and slow, and his tongue seems as sticky as mine when I try to use it.
I want to learn more of his language so he doesn’t have to put himself through the frustration.
‘Thank you,’ I sign, hesitate, then add, ‘Why?’
He huffs and shakes his head. “To learn. Gia can help, too.”
Gia. She smells a bit like them. Like family. She was kind to me last night, too. I keep expecting to be rejected and ridiculed. To suffer the pain my punishment was meant to cause. Loneliness was my sentence. I am meant to feel it for all of the time I have left, but Dante and his family seem determined not to let that happen.
‘Thank you,’ I sign again.
He pats my arm. “When I come back, we can chat-chat.”
I don’t know what that means, but I nod all the same. He stands and squeezes my shoulder, then walks off without another word. I think that is perhaps a human goodbye.
Or perhaps what humans do when the sight of us overwhelms them.
I can’t blame him. To them, we are monsters, and with the scars on my body, I suppose I can understand his fear.
Though the herbs and the cum have helped, I am still healing, and I have slept more than I ever have in my life. I wish to be in Dante’s bed again, but I don’t know how welcome I am, and he’s not here to ask.
So, I fill myself with the kirrashev Rathyn left for me, then rest against the sofa cushions, watching and following along with the ASL video until I hear a familiar song at the front door. It takes me a moment to register that it’s not normal for a Vyastil to be calling for me while I’m here.
I have been banished.
I jump to my feet, and panic floods through me because I recognize the accent of the song. It’s someone from the palace. I don’t know who, but it’s very likely a member of the enforcement to ensure that I have not broken any further laws.
Except, I have.
I have consumed cum without being given permission to drink what humans provide, outside of a reward for service. And I will not be receiving any of those. Not anymore. And never again.
Terror has my knees trembling, and when I open the door, I feel all the strength leave my body.
Quilliyn is standing there, his blue hair in two buns at the nape of his neck, his eyes narrowed and focused on me. I have met him several times, but the last time I heard his voice was the day I was being released.
He fought for me.
For Everest.
I’m certain it was a favor to my friend, but the consequences for him could have been severe, in spite of the fact that he’s a prince, so I still do not understand why he took the risk.
