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“Yes.” She was essentially warning him not to engage in sexual activities with the other residents. He wondered why the rule was in place to begin with.
“There are exceptions, but rarely.” She sniffed and looked away. “For special connections or situations.”
He thought perhaps she meant the twins, and he bit his tongue because he would give himself away about what he’d observed last evening.
“What sort of exceptions?”
She fixed her skirt as she rose from the table. “Fate, of course.”
He’d heard of the notion, mostly from traveling minstrels who would have the children gather at their feet in the village square while telling them fables about kings and warriors and battles in the great beyond. In that context, he always imagined the word fate meant something different, something to do with merit, eminence, and men of honor. Never about a connection between two people, if that was what Madam Langley was implying.
All the way back to the dormitory, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The other men in the room grew silent upon his arrival, as if they’d been gossiping about him. Or perhaps they were only curious about his conversation with the madam.
Once he went to his bunk and sank down, Wren blurted out, “What did she say?”
“That I am to stay and work until week’s end to pay off my debt.”
“Sounds fair,” Bellamy said.
“You should be fully recovered by then,” Azriel added.
“I’m already—”
“No,” Azriel replied in a serious tone. “There might still be damage…on the inside.”
He was right. His ribs were still tender, and if he were being honest, his hole too, if he moved a certain way. But that medicine, whatever it was, had helped.
“You’re right, of course. I won’t argue.”
“Speaking of which, would you like me to check on anything for you?”
“No, I’m all right,” Galen replied, feeling heartened by his kindness. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“You’re welcome,” Azriel replied, then left the room.
“Azriel has been concerned about you,” Wren said as he watched him leave.
“He told you that?” Galen asked, his heart thumping wildly.
“Not exactly.”
“He is…private,” Galen said, trying to unwind the mystery that was Azriel. “Measures his words.”
“You will know more through his actions,” Wren replied.
“He’s learned to be quiet because of his—” Sparrow began, but Wren shushed him.
“That is his account to share, not ours,” he warned, and Sparrow pouted.
They have worried about their survival and safety.
When Wren reached for Sparrow’s hand and entangled their fingers, it cheered Sparrow immediately. Galen had never witnessed this kind of bond before, and it made his stomach feel warm and strange.
Chapter 6
Madam Langley was correct in her assertion that there was plenty to do at Moon Flower to keep everything running and in tip-top shape. Galen helped wherever was needed and was finally able to get a first glimpse into the rooms that were occupied by men two nights a week. All the bedchambers were similar in that they contained a bed, a small table, two chairs, and a wardrobe where clothing could be hung.
That was when Galen realized there was a maid who supplied fresh linens—the same maid who’d returned his clothing mended and clean and placed it in a neat pile on his bed.
The rooms were sparsely decorated; one painting each of a variety of still life—mainly fruit in a bowl—and a potted plant that resembled lily of the valley.
He also learned that a variety of supplies were used in the rooms and needed to be replenished, such as oils, washing cloths, and contraptions he’d never seen before, one which was an odd cylindrical shape, red on one end, the other with a handle attached to a wheel.
“What does this one do?” he asked Bellamy, who’d explained these were stimulators.
“This end fits in the bum.” Bellamy pointed to the red side, which Galen could now picture based on how it seemed to narrow. “And when you crank this wheel, the portion that fits inside the body vibrates.”
When he demonstrated by winding the device, Galen could feel his ears grow hot. He imagined how intimate a position two individuals would have to be in to engage in the activity.
“Is it useful?” Galen asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Quite,” Bellamy replied with a smirk. “It might feel like a foreign invader at first…unless the magic button inside the body is activated.”
Galen’s blush deepened. He may have been aware of the exact button Bellamy was referring to—he’d felt it on occasion while being fucked, which helped the enjoyment immensely—but he’d never had a blunt conversation about such things.
He found he enjoyed this open dialogue, even if it made his entire body warm—in more ways than one.
When he and Bellamy nearly collided with Azriel while exiting one of the rooms, Galen’s skin prickled, remembering what they’d just been discussing. And even more so when Bellamy informed Azriel that more oil would soon be needed.
