Page 17 of The Laws of Nature (Heirs of the Empire #3)

Lymok frowns. “It does, but not exactly. You would also be considered kushwen.”

Before Tobi can say anything more there is a sharp rap on the door and Lymok says, “Ah,” and then calls, “Come in please.”

The door opens to reveal three Ambolk women. They are dressed like maids. One carries some linens, another a tray of small bottles, the third a knife. They bow to Lymok and speak to him in Ambolk.

Lymok turns to Tobi. “These women are to be your personal body servants.”

“Oh,” says Tobi, quite surprised. He is to have three body servants. “Why does one of them have a blade?”

Simply, Lymok says, “They are here to shave you.”

“Shave me?” Tobi rubs his chin. He is not the most hirsute of men. His chin barely has a hair upon it. “My face?”

Lymok fails to hide a small smile. “Not only your face.”

Tobi gasps. “Everything!”

“Not your head,” says Lymok.

And Tobi supposes he ought to be grateful for that. This is a strange place. But he still can’t hide the shock in his voice as he says, “Irgo Harok wants me shaved?”

Lymok’s voice sounds sweet. “It is tradition,” he says, “for kushirs.”

Tobi swallows hard. He needs to play this part, he thinks. He needs to become Irgo Harok’s devoted kushir while he waits for rescue. So he simply nods and stands up, naked in his bath and allows the three body servants to approach and shave him without complaint.

And they do shave everything. Chest, arms, legs and then his cock.

They even spread his ass and run the blade over his hole.

That part tickles, but he stays deathly still.

When it's done he feels strange. More naked than he has ever been. He didn’t have a lot of hair on his body before they began, but without even that he feels intensely vulnerable, so deeply reminded that he is Harok’s sexual property. A kushir.

A hole for a cock.

He reminds himself that this is simply a role he is playing. The reluctant, but enchanting kushir of Irgo Harok.

Tobi’s mother used to tell him that less than a day after his birth she had gone onto the stage to perform with the players in Fanost. And that when she had finished her last song she had brought her newborn babe out, cradled in her arms, to meet her audience.

He has been a performer all his life. From when he was a day old.

The servant holding the tray of bottles sets it down beside the bath. She says something in Ambolk and Lymok, who has discreetly turned his back, says, “She is asking if you want oil.”

“Oil?” Tobi says. “For my hole. Kush oil?”

Lymok laughs without turning around, “For your skin, kushir. To soothe it and make it soft, and so the hair does not grow back so fast.”

“Ah,” says Tobi, “I see.”

The servant with the linen holds it out. A huge piece. Thick and snowy white. Tobi climbs from the bath and the servant steps forward and pats his skin dry. The woman with the oil pours some of it into her hands, and briskly applies it to every part of Tobi’s freshly-shaved skin.

The servant who had used the knife, sets it down and walks over to a cupboard in the corner of the room and pulls out a black fur.

She brings it over, a great bundle in her arms, and offers it to Tobi.

She speaks some words in Ambolk, which Lymok translates.

“She says you should sit by the fire so you do not grow cold.”

Tobi nods to her, “Sho,” he says. Wishing he knew enough Ambolk to thank her as he allows her to wrap him in the fur. The servant takes Tobi by the arm and leads him over to the fire. He sits down. Another body servant brings over his glass of flower cup .

He thinks how sweet this life is. Being waited on.

The body servants bustle around the room, clearing away Tobi’s shed clothing and their own shaving tools, before leaving silently. Tobi watches them, bundled in fur, warm by the fire.

Lymok closes the door behind them and turns around as Tobi takes another sip of the flower cup.

It's so deliciously sweet and fresh tasting. It makes his belly feel warm all over again and his head a little soft. Does it truly make him ready to be covered? He isn’t sure.

He has been covered many times without such a drink.

Lymok walks over to the pile of linens the body servant set down and lifts a piece of pale fabric.

“Irgo Harok has asked that you wear this for the anointing.” He shakes out the fabric.

It’s a tiny lace garment. An alit. The usual garment worn by female pillow slaves in Azuria.

Tobi has only seen them in books and paintings at the Rose Palace.

Books and paintings he probably should not have been looking at.

It’s little more than a short shift. It will leave his arms and most of his legs bare.

He has never heard of a man wearing one.

He feels his face flush. Wearing such a garment seems more undignified than being shaved. His bare, oiled skin would at least be a secret between him and Harok. This would not. This tiny garment would display him before all. It will leave no doubt what he is. A plaything. A toy for Harok’s bed.

And he realises that he is naked under the fur and the clothes he shed to take his bath have been removed by the body servants. He has nothing else he can wear. But those that were taken were not his only clothes.

“I have…” Tobi begins, stopping when his voice comes out breathy.

He swallows and tries again. “I have my own clothing I brought with me. It was loaded onto a cart. I ha ve many fine things which I’m sure will delight His Majesty Irgo Harok.

Please, bring me my white leather breeches and one of my jewelled waistcoats.

” Tobi knows how he looks in those low-cut breeches.

He has no objections to dressing like a whore, but he would prefer it to be in his own whorish outfits than in an alit.

Lymok says, “I am sorry, kushir. Irgo Harok has made it clear you are to wear this. It is tradition.” He drapes it over the second chair beside the fire.

Tobi looks at it. So, he supposes, he is to have no say in anything. Including what he wears. “I will be practically naked. Is that what Harok likes?”

“What he likes is to have his desires respected and his commands obeyed.”

“I suppose a short shift like that will make it easy for him to fuck me before all.” Tobi says petulantly. “Is that what will happen at the anointing? Will it only be him, or will he share me? Tie me down and have me taken by any who wish it?”

Lymok purses his lips. “Is that what the Azurians think of us? That we are such savages? We are far more civilised than the Azurians. And yet you think you will be offered to all when you are kushir of our king. Would an Azurian Emperor offer his Empress for all to fuck at their wedding ceremony in the Temple of Zai?”

“Civilised?” Tobi says back in low tones.

He is still looking at the alit draped over the chair.

“I was snatched by your warriors from my home and forced to become the plaything of your sly king, then dragged through the forest on his horse and now I am to be dressed as a whore to be presented at your revels. In Azuria none of this would be considered civilised.”

“You were not forced . It was made clear that Harok only wanted you if you were willing. ”

“Was I willing? I made a choice, but it was not much of a choice. Your people were holding my friends at the points of their curved blades.”

Lymok puts his hands on his hips. “And I suppose your great Azurian Empire would never do such a thing?”

Tobi stops. But he is not the Imperial Army. He is not the Azurian Empire. He cannot be held responsible for the Dareks and their endless questing for more land and wealth and influence. Or can he? It is that same army he expects to come rescue him because of his Darek blood.

But before he can say a word, the door that joins the room to the Irgo’s chamber smacks open.

Harok stands in the doorway. So large he seems to fill it, his shoulders almost as wide.

He has changed too. The lines of paint on his face have been reapplied.

He wears all black. Short breeches and a black leather harness under his black cape with fur across the shoulders, which makes them look even wider.

On his head he wears a crown made of carved wood.

He is so tall the crown’s finely turned points almost touch the door’s lintel.

He says something in Ambolk that sounds like a question, his voice so low he seems to growl.

Lymok says, “Irgo Harok asks why you are not dressed ready for the anointing?”

Tobi shivers. He’s suddenly very aware that he’s naked, freshly bathed, wrapped in a fur and before him stands the giant angry man who he belongs to.

Lymok turns to Harok, he speaks in Ambolk then adds in Artemian “I explained to Harok that you would rather wear your own clothing than the alit he requested you wear for the anointing feast.”

In response, Harok says something that sounds like a curse in his rough Ambolk, as he steps out of the doorway and walks towards Tobi .

As Harok approaches him Tobi says quickly, “I have many fine clothes and I just thought…”

But his voice dries as Harok stops before him, towering over him.

He’s so close that Tobi can feel the warmth of his body.

Harok smells like summer forest, like earth and trees.

Tobi’s heart is beating so hard. He wants to jump from the chair and run, but he is sure he would never make it to the door.

Harok snarls something at Tobi in Ambolk. It sounds like a threat.

“You will wear what I tell you to wear,” Lymok says, interpreting in his smooth voice “You will obey me. I am your Irgo and your Irgorye. That means your king and your master. An Irgorye is the master of a kushir.”

Tobi’s breath comes out roughly, “ Sho ,” he says, “ Sho, Irgorye. ”

Harok makes a short, satisfied sound. “ Ga, Suskara ,” he says, lifting a hand to run a thumb over Tobi’s cheek, but then his voice grows harder as he says more in Ambolk.

“If you do not obey me, kushir,” Lymok translates, “I will take you back to your people and put every man there to the sword.”

Harok nods at Tobi, waiting for a response.

Tobi nods, “Very well,” he says, looking at Harok with a sour expression. “I will wear what you wish.”

Lymok translates this and Harok’s brief reply of Ga . “Good.”

Harok says something else to Lymok and he responds in Ambolk before saying to Tobi, “I will see you at the anointing, kushir.” And he strides for the door, leaving Tobi and Harok alone.

Harok says nothing. He simply stands staring at Tobi. “So, my beast,” Tobi says, “are you just going to watch me while I get dressed?”

Harok waves a hand to show he does not understand and says something in Ambolk, which ends with the word, “ Suskara. ”

Tobi is sure this is a demand to hurry up and do as he has been told, so he drops the fur and picks up the alit.

He stands naked in front of Harok as he pulls the tiny garment over his head.

Harok only stares at him, betraying nothing.

Tobi wonders if it pleases him to see that he is shaved.

As Tobi’s head emerges from the top of the tiny garment, he says, “Why do you call me that? Suskara ?”

“ Kushir Suskara ,” Harok says.

“I know I am. I am Suskara , but what does it mean?” he says, smoothing down the alit. It barely reaches the tops of his thighs.

Harok looks at Tobi.

Tobi points at Harok’s chest, “Irgo Harok,” he says. “Harok.” Then to himself, “Tobi. Kushir Tobi.”

Harok shakes his head. “ Ei ,” he says. Does that mean no? He steps closer to Tobi, closing the gap between them. “ Suskara, Kushir Suskara ,” he says softly. He touches the light hair on the left half of Tobi’s head and says, “ Sus ,” then the dark hair on the right, “ Kara .”

Tobi nods. So Suskara is a description of his hair.

Do ‘Sus ’ and ‘ Kara ’ mean light and dark hair?

Perhaps they just mean light and dark. He reaches up and puts a hand gently on Harok’s cheek.

It feels strange. Harok has already touched him possessively many times, but this is the first time Tobi has touched Harok.

His hand shakes a little and he finds his belly flips to make deliberate contact with Harok’s skin like this.

“ Sus? ” he says quietly, then moves his hand up and covers Harok’s painted eyes, “ Kara? ”

Tobi moves his hand back. His mouth is a little dry. Harok smiles at him. It is strange to see him smile. He looks quite different .

“ Sho ,” Harok says, nodding his head. “ Sus ,” he repeats, then he claps his own big hand over Tobi’s eyes. “ Kara .”

‘Sus’ and ‘ Kara ’. Light and dark. Two more Ambolk words. And the knowledge that the name Harok has been calling him means light and dark.

Tobi bites his lip. Harok’s hand is still over his eyes.

He reaches for Harok’s fingers and peels them away.

He is very sure he would not be able to do so if Harok was not allowing it.

He looks into Harok’s blue eyes. The dark paint below them makes them look even deeper and brighter.

Tobi feels like Harok is looking right into his soul.

Suddenly it feels like the fact they do not speak each other’s languages is not a barrier at all.

He feels like Harok sees him so purely and truly it takes his breath.

“Suskara,” Harok says again, low and soft.

“Harok,” Tobi says, thinking that perhaps Harok took him as kushir simply because he saw him and desired him. No more of a mystery than that.

Because Harok clearly desires him. Just the way he looks at Tobi contains enough desire that Tobi feels himself burning with it.