Page 8 of The Offering of Four

Amenzu triedto keep track of the passing of time, but it proved impossible with how they slept and woke again at random, and with how stupefied he felt by the fascinations of Mendas’s body. Two days went by, or possibly three, and Mendas did beg quite a lot by the end of it, as he had said, and Amenzu would be a liar if he claimed he didn’t enjoy it. Then he woke up to morning light filling the bedchamber and knew from Mendas’s scent that his heat was over.

Mendas’s eyes were open when Amenzu turned over in the bed. He shifted closer and tucked his face against Amenzu’s chest without speaking.

Amenzu’s heart swelled with pride and affection. He cupped the back of Mendas’s head and held him close. He was warm beneath the thin blanket, sweaty and somewhat hungry. Dried semen formed an itchy crust on his abdomen. His hips ached from the effort of fucking. All in all, he had never felt better.

Mendas stirred after a few minutes and rolled onto his back. “How do you feel?”

Amenzu laughed. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

“I go through heat every month, but it’s a new experience for you.” Mendas’s mouth curled into a smile. “And I’m sure Iput you through your paces, as one tries out a yearling before sending it to the racetrack.”

“Oh, well,” Amenzu said, flustered. “I suppose I feel fine.”

“That’s good.” Mendas sat up with a groan and rubbed at his face. “I need a bath.”

“I can—go look for a servant,” Amenzu said uncertainly, although he couldn’t begin to guess where he might find one. He could wander around the corridors of the palace until he found someone who didn’t look busy, he supposed.

Mendas shook his head. “There’s no need. Someone will be along soon enough.” He gazed down at Amenzu. His face bore no expression, but Amenzu thought he saw some trepidation in Mendas’s eyes.

“What happens next?” Amenzu asked, overcoming his own trepidation. He didn’t know any of the rules or rituals. No one had thought to tell him, as it had been expected he would be back in the temple by now, back to the work he had abandoned and would never complete. His half-finished illumination of the scriptures of Tafalkayt—well, it didn’t matter now. Someone else could finish it. He belonged with Mendas, and couldn’t bear to think of ever leaving him. Strange how quickly his heart had reshaped itself.

“Well…” Mendas turned his head to look toward the window, where the curtains had been drawn aside to give a view of the neighboring tower. “My selection will already have been announced, I imagine. You’ll be presented to the court. We’ll both spend a night in the tomb of Queen Herru, to ask her for a dream of the future. And then the wedding.”

“I don’t know how to conduct myself,” Amenzu said. “With the court—I won’t know what to say or do. I’m afraid I’ll offend someone.”

Mendas turned back to Amenzu and reached down to touch the small scar on his chin, where he had fallen off a wall oncewhile trying to impress a friend. “You’ll be taught. I’ll protect you as I can, which is quite a lot. And my father will like you, and no one will risk his ire.”

His father, the king. Amenzu didn’t know what to make of his changed circumstances. He decided the best thing to do was to think about it as little as possible and simply deal with each event as it came along.

Mendas continued, “More imminently, I’ll stay in my chambers for another day or two to recover. If you’d like to return to the temple in that time to make arrangements and collect your belongings, I can assign you an escort.”

“That can wait until you’ve recovered,” Amenzu said. He hesitated, then decided to say what he felt. “I don’t like the thought of leaving you so soon.”

Mendas regarded him. Then he lay down beside Amenzu and put his head on Amenzu’s shoulder. “You are not what I expected.”

“I don’t think anyone expected me,” Amenzu said.

Mendas laughed a little. “That’s true.” He was quiet for a few moments, then said, “I knew from childhood that I would take my husband in an offering. I wondered what he might look like, what kind of person he might be. As I grew older, I learned that the priests and my father’s advisors would do the choosing, and all the talk about receiving the wisdom of the dead was mainly talk. I guessed that they would offer Lounes to me, and I was content with that. He’s an agreeable man. But as soon as Jidji brought me into the room I knew what my choice would be, and I do feel that the dead reached backward into life to set us on this course.”

Amenzu shook his head. “I don’t know why they might have chosen me.”

Mendas said, “I do.”

“I wish you would eat something,”Mendas said. “Have some bread, at least.”

“I had tea,” Amenzu said.

Mendas turned from the mirror to frown at him. “That doesn’t count as food, but I’ll accept that you aren’t going to take my suggestion.”

Amenzu abandoned his fussing with his hair, which had developed a stubborn curl at his forehead that neither oil nor saliva could sufficiently mat down. He sat on the cushion beside Mendas’s at the dressing table. “I’m too nervous to eat.”

Mendas lowered the brush he was using to line his lower eyelids with kohl. “You’ll hardly have to do anything. Walk after me and kneel when I do. You won’t need to say anything.”

“But everyone will be looking at me,” Amenzu said, feeling childish even as he said it. He had been looked at quite extensively in the week since Mendas’s heat ended. He would be looked at every day from now on. He would simply have to get used to it.

Mendas didn’t scold or mock him. He set down his brush and rested his hand on Amenzu’s shoulder, his thumb stroking the side of Amenzu’s neck. “They will look at you in happiness, to know that Great Aghilas sent their prince someone so pleasing to him.”

Amenzu’s cheeks went hot. Mendas said things like that with no hesitation, and Amenzu never knew how to respond. That would come in time, he hoped, once they were married; or perhaps Mendas would learn not to fluster Amenzu so terribly.