Page 57 of Forge the Blade

Alexi had announced that Sevastyan was returning within the quarter hour. Rei waited in a modified posture with his eyes down, restraining conflicting emotions. The last few days had been calm but not peaceful. His ankle hurt less, even though he still wasn’t allowed to put weight on it. His ribs ached, but deep breaths were less taxing. He could almost ignore the injury unless something bumped his torso or he lay wrong. The bruises looked worse as green mottling took over where the marks had first been purple. Lisa’s bruises were the same. He also looked shattered, wary, and anxious. Neither slave knew if Alexi would be taking Lisa back or leaving him with Sevastyan. And that, more than anything, was causing both of them to feel taut, stretched, and uncertain. Alexi’s own preoccupation with unvoiced thoughts had hung over Rei’s head.

Alexi came out of his room. “Your master is here, Rei.”

Rei lowered his head even more in Alexi’s direction, acknowledging that he had been spoken to. No question had been asked, though, so his voice was not required nor desired. The world was smaller when he was around Alexi. There was less he was required to do. And more he was required to not do. Even after just a couple days, he could feel it. Sevastyan leaned on him for his mind and his endurance. Alexi adored him for existing and being soft and pliant. One was harder than the other. He needed his routine, his morning discipline with Sevastyan, his work, his language studies, the small matters he looked after on Sevastyan’s behalf, and attending to Sevastyan’s needs.

He’d slept as much as he could. But even though he was still healing, one could only sleep so much. There were only so many times you could count the wood grain lines in the furniture, or zone out waiting to be ordered to move, or eat, or shower. Or perhaps he was just reaching the end of his limit of pretending that the world wasn’t turning, that Junseo wasn’t being hunted by the Merchari, that Sevastyan wasn’t in possible mortal danger, that Ellisandre wasn’t out there, a giant question and possibility hanging over the future.

There was rest in veracity. With Sevastyan, he hid nothing. With Alexi he hid almost all of himself and displayed a sliver that was honest, but only a facet. Sevastyan knew the best and the worst of Rei. All of it. No masks. No lies. Sevastyan was home and missing him felt like sickness in his stomach.

Beside Rei, Lisa knelt perfectly, without even a shiver of movement. He was there, but also not. Like he’d been for most of the last twenty-four hours or more, ever since he’d offered Alexi fellatio and Alexi had turned him down, citing his injuries. While Alexi had ordered Lisa’s attention on him at points and Lisa always found a way to give it, the vacancy and distance had firmly returned to his eyes as if that bid to serve had been his last effort to shape his future and now he had nothing left.

Lisa was only waiting for the hammer to fall.

And so was Rei. Their fates were tied together. What befell Lisa would etch itself on the scroll of Rei’s life.

A knock came on the door. Then it opened. Rei’s eyes stayed fixed on the floor. Alexi spoke a greeting and Sevastyan’s voice answered. The door closed. Rei forced his breathing to stay slow and steady. He moved nothing, not even the tips of his fingers against his thighs. He was Sevastyan’s perfect slave.

And Sevastyan was here. Rei’s head grew quiet. His muscles softened.

Sevastyan

Sevastyan shook Alexi’s hand and glanced towards their two slaves. Rei and Lisa were side by side, sitting on deep pillows, at attention but with their legs bent to the side to keep weight off their injuries. The bandage on Lisa’s thigh was smaller. And the pallor of Rei’s face from before had given way to a healthier shade.

“I hope you were not put out much,” Sevastyan said.

“No, no, not at all. The time away gave me space to think, actually. There’s something to be said for setting it all aside and staring at the inside of your own head.”

Sevastyan laughed because Alexi expected him to laugh. “I’m afraid I haven’t enjoyed such time often.”

Alexi clapped him on his back. “I suspect not. You should try it.”

Sevastyan shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Tell that to the Yadro, and my mother. And my clients.”

“Perhaps I will.” Alexi met Sevastyan with his eyes and there was something more in his gaze. Sevastyan let his smile fade, meeting Alexi’s look with the same seriousness that the older man was holding.

“Or perhaps you’ll tell them yourself, like you just did,” Alexi said.

Sevastyan blinked once, slowly. “News travels quickly.”

“Even in our circles, it’s not every day murder is performed in front of an audience.”

“It was an execution,” Sevastyan said.

Alexi’s lips twitched with appreciation. He wandered towards the kitchen, his intentions dragging Sevastyan with him. On the dining table was coffee—good coffee—and Bienenstich, a German sweet yeast cake filled with custard.

“How did you find this?” Sevastyan leaned down to smell both delights.

“Jonathan. He’s a resourceful devil. Shall we let our boys lie down? Even in modified poses, I worry.”

“Rei has been there long?” Sevastyan asked.

“About fifteen minutes.”

Too long. Sevastyan snapped his fingers and made the lie down gesture without looking over his shoulder. There was a small shift of movement. Alexi did the same a moment later and the sound of a second shifting body drifted across the room.

Sevastyan poured coffee for both himself and Alexi and sank into one of the seats. Alexi plated the Bienenstich and set one of the two small dishes in front of Sevastyan with a minuscule dessert fork. Sevastyan took his time with the coffee, holding it in his palms, breathing in the aroma.

“How do you feel, having made them listen for once?” Alexi said.