Page 21 of The Concubine King
His calmed nerves became exhaustion—no, not exhaustion, exactly, but a desperate need to close his eyes.He did so, leaning his head back against the cold wall and sucking in a deep breath.
“Look at him!”
The gasp snapped his head upright and his eyes open.He jumped out of his skin to see people sitting right beside him.
The cold, dim room had become luxurious, its walls draped in colorful veils of delicate gauze, the stone floor covered in an eclectic array of cushions and pillows.The candles had been replaced with lanterns hanging along the walls, filling the room with an ethereal sort of light, bright enough to illuminate everything, but still soft and forgiving.Pots and jars filled the outer edges of the room, some empty, some filled with various materials like jewels and gold, or dried herbs and oil, which is where the delicate floral scent infusing the air must have been coming from.
More seats were scattered through the room, not marble or attached to the wall like his, but beautifully carved wood that curled up at one end.Based on the three gods laying on them, they were made that way to accommodate lounging rather than sitting.
Another three gods were sitting on cushions at the table of food, and the last two were those to either side of him, leaning uncomfortably close.They looked nothing like the statues.Stone could not do the beauty of their faces justice.Most of them wore long draping fabric, its white color just opaque enough not to be see-through, and tied shut at the waist with colorful belts of various designs.The style left a long triangle of bare flesh down the center of their chests almost to their belly buttons, and the gathered fabric below the belt covered the front and back of their legs while leaving long slits up the sides.
The one to his right, who had made the exclamation, had a brilliant smile on his face as he looked Ethyr over.Ethyr had a strong suspicion that this one was Gallus, god of theater and festivity, with his chestnut-colored curls and golden skin near identical in color to Ethyr’s.But all of them were staring like he was putting on a fascinating performance, despite the fact that all he was doing was sitting there.
“He’s gorgeous!”Gallus sighed, stroking Ethyr’s chin.“Ithna, did you know he looked like this?”
Ithna, god of the harvest, provider of the common people.She was the deity his village worshipped above all others, though Gnaeus was more revered within individual households.
One of the gods seated on a floor cushion, her loosely-braided hair the color of ripe wheat, leaned her elbow onto the table with a smile.“He is quite something in person, isn’t he?”
“Oh, I can’t wait to play with him.”Gallus brushed his fingers like the softest touch of a breeze across Ethyr’s cheek.He sat stark still, back straight, not daring to move or say a word.
The god cupped his face, turning it towards him, and lips touched his.He closed his eyes on instinct alone, mouth softening into the kiss even as the rest of his body strung taut with nerves.
A palm on his other cheek broke him away from the first kiss to pull him into another with the god on his left.She kissed harder, sliding a hand up his jaw and into his hair.
“Be gentle with him,” a god laying on a nearby seat admonished.Gnaeus, by her long brown curls.“Remember he’s not trained like the others.”
“We’re being gentle!”the one kissing him broke away to complain.
Ithna clicked her tongue.“Look at him, he’s scared stiff, the poor thing.”
“Not stiff enough if you ask me,” the god said sultrily, sliding a hand up Ethyr’s thigh and leaning so close he could feel her breath against his skin.
“Varuut,” Gallus huffed to his right, exasperated.“Didn’t you hear what Gnaeus just said?”
Varuut.Goddess of love and affection.Her long, straight hair was loose over her shoulders, the color such a light copper it was nearly pink.It was no wonder he didn’t recognize her; Varuut changed so often between male and female forms in legends it was hard to know which she might have been.
One of the gods at the table stood and walked over, brushing Varuut’s hand from Ethyr’s leg.He leaned down to be face-level with Ethyr, tucking a finger under his chin and lifting it.
“Ethyr,” he said with a smile, and hearing his name from the perfectly curved lips of a god’s mouth had him close to fainting.Ainder, if he had to venture a guess, the god of pleasure and desire.“Come sit at the table.Enjoy this feast with us.”
He swallowed and nodded, though it was barely a shiver of his head.The god’s smile widened and he drew Ethyr up with the pressure under his chin, rubbing a thumb over it before letting go.He returned to the table and sat casually, a toned, olive-skinned arm resting over a propped up knee.Ethyr followed numbly and knelt—properly—at the table before risking a subtle glance around.Varuut and Gallus had followed him off the bench, returning to his side.They all sat with casual indifference, not appearing to care at all about the etiquette and ‘proper form’ Yorith had taken such pains to drill into him.They all watched him, but it was without expectation, seeming perfectly enamored with him just sitting there.
There was only one god not captivated by Ethyr’s presence.
He was lounging faced away from the rest of the room, one foot propped up on the seat while the other leg hung casually off the side.There was something different about him, not only his attitude, but his aura, like he was a completely different creature from the other gods.His legs and torso were clad in the deepest blue pants and tunic, more like the night sky than a human-made dye could possibly be.Ethyr couldn’t see his face, but his hands were pale and his long, braided hair an impossible pitch-black.Ethyr didn’t have to guess to know who he was.Kiaro, god of trickery and deception.He was fiddling with an object similar to a lump of coal, except it was made of a mass of what looked like roots all tangled together.
Varuut pressed into Ethyr, squeezing his thigh and pulling his attention back.Her nose nuzzled into the soft spot under his ear.
“Here.”
He looked down at the little square treat she was holding up.It was pliable in her fingers, dusted with a white powder.She raised it to Ethyr’s lips and he opened them without thought, letting her feed it to him.It was as soft as it looked, and intensely sweet even compared to the unending sweet dishes he’d had access to over the past days.
Varuut’s attention drifted up, her breath warm against Ethyr’s cheek.Behind him, Gallus draped his arms over his shoulders in a loose hug, pressing his face into the side that wasn’t taken up by Varuut.
“Let me feed him,” Gallus implored.
“Feed him this.”Ithna tossed a peach across the table.Ainder caught it and handed it to Gallus, who brought it eagerly to Ethyr’s mouth, hanging off his shoulder to see more clearly.
