Page 20 of A Taste for the Peculiar

He has to get her away from here. He has to ensure she’s safe, but his fist clenches, sending out a jolt of magic that makes the flowers burst all around them. Pollen covers the group, turning their giggles into coughing and wheezing as they scatter.

Pye takes Avirin’s hand and guides her swiftly in another direction. “I’m sorry.” He grits his teeth. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. These people are callous, and vapid, and —”

“It’s all right,” Avirin says softly.

“It certainly isn’t!”

“They mock you as much as me.”

He slows his pace once they are far from anyone else, once the only sound left is the croaking of frogs in the pond. Gradually, he releases a breath and turns to her. “What do you mean?”

She gestures defeatedly back toward the crowd. “Men in dresses, women in trousers…it’s a silly game to them. It’s the most ludicrous thing they can think of, as fanciful as pirates or ancient gods.”

He stares into the water. He noticed the costumes, of course, but he tried not to think about them. He simply bore the offense, ignoring the way his nerves grated until he could no longer stand to look at the ‘oddities’ on parade.

“Then they are right about both of us,” Pye says mildly.

He meets Avirin’s surprise with a gentle hand against her cheek, thumb brushing the moth wings. Her presence alone soothes the jagged rhythm of his heart, untying all the knots until it strums evenly in his chest.

“We are wondrous,” he says, calm and certain. “More than they could ever imagine.”

A wistfulness sparks in Avirin’s eyes. Pye wants to chase it, to lead her away from all of this, to give her a place where she has no need to hide…but she wants to be a part of this world.

Pye hates that he understands. He knows the benefits of doing business with these people. The necessity of their connections to provide for the people he cares for. Avirin doesn’t even have that.

Solemnly, Pye’s hand drops from her cheek. “But I know your reputation concerns you, and our lessons have put that in enough jeopardy as it is.” Despite his strongest urges, Pye takes a step back. “That is why I cannot complete our lessons myself. Why, in good conscience, I cannot consummate with you.”

TEN

Pye

“You won’t teach me?” Avirin’s features twist. “I thought we agreed —”

“I will teach you.” Pye’s hand settles over hers. “Just not in the way you’ve come to expect. We cannot lie together; it would pose greater risks to you than just your social standing.”

Her mouth pulls into a tight line, gaze hardening on the topiary over his shoulder. This sudden change of plans has thrown her, visible in the restrained swell of her pupils. When Pye reaches for her, she sidesteps his touch instinctively, her face shifting with remorse when she sees his hand. “I’m sorry, I — need a moment.”

“It’s all right,” Pye murmurs. “I’ll be here.”

She moves away, slipping behind a tree trunk like she wishes not to be seen. Pye sinks down on the stone wall around the pond. He knows this is the right decision, but that doesn’t mean it brings him any enjoyment. When these lessons began, he didn’t expect them to progress so far, or at all. He’d thought Avirin was a sheltered girl looking to raise some kind of breeze. She’d take one look at the reprobate Pye truly was before she’d go scurrying back to the safety of her life. He hadn’t realized Avirin was fighting “peculiarities” of her own.

He wishes he could make her understand, assure her that this decision is made out of care for her rather than any lack of desire — but why does he need her to know that so badly? Why do the words claw at the back of his lips in desperation to be heard?

None of it is pertinent to their lessons. It is a personal desire, and Pye has warned themself they would not start down that road. They are here to aid Avirin in pursuit of a husband and nothing more. There cannot be anything else.

Avirin appears before him. Her shoulders are still tense, but there is a certain awareness in her gaze when she exhales. “What are the risks?”

A smile alights on his mouth. Avirin is never without academic curiosity, and when Pye extends their hand, she does not hesitate to take it. The touch of her bare skin is electric, like the day in the park with the hole in her glove.

He caresses her there again. Her breathing quickens.

Pye could get hung up on that sound, but they remember their purpose, lacing their fingers with hers and ambling deeper into the greenery. There is no sign of anyone else, but Pye lowers their voice anyway. “What do you know of sex? Of what it can lead to?”

Avirin stumbles into him, like the word itself were a rock sneaking under her heel. Her voice is strained, a flush spreading over the tops of her breasts. “You mean — children?”

She is impossible not to look upon, but Pye tears their eyes away. “Children, yes, and infections as well.”

Her fingers tighten in his. “And is there no way to avoid those outcomes? No way to simply enjoy the act on its own?”