Page 26 of The Second Marriage

On the last morning, when Taral’s heat was fading at last, Sejun woke in the first light of dawn with Taral still asleep beside him. He looked through the window for a while, letting his thoughts wander, then turned over in the bed to see if he should wake Taral.

There was no need; Taral was awake already, and he smiled at Sejun and reached up to touch his chin. “How did you dream?”

Sejun caught his hand to kiss his fingers. “I dreamed only of you, so my dreams were excellent.”

Taral laughed. “These are honeyed words. I like them, though.”

“You do?” Sejun blurted, then quickly recovered with, “Well, I’m very charming, as you see.”

“Yes.” Taral’s eyes were still laughing. “Will you see if Ehani is here to bring us tea? And some breakfast, as I hear the noises your stomach is making.”

“Surely that’s a mountain cat roaring in the hills.” Sejun sat up. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The house was empty; Ehani hadn’t yet come over from the main house. But Sejun wasn’t totally helpless, and he made tea and put together a simple breakfast of fruit and leftover rice. When he returned to the room, he found the bed empty and the balcony door open, and Taral sitting there in his inner robe watching golden sunlight drape over the tops of the mountains to the east.

Taral turned to him with a smile. The bond thrummed with his simple happiness. The morning was lovely, he had slept well, and he felt safe in Sejun’s presence. Sejun stood there in the doorway and felt his heart turn inside out. He had grown attached—of course he had grown attached. They were bonded, and Taral was easy to like. He was serious, yes, but also honorable and genteel. He had a delightful dry sense of humor and he never said or did anything to make Sejun feel like a foolish child, even though Sejun knew he was.

Taral’s smile faded. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Sejun proffered his tray. “I have tea.”

They sat side by side, drinking their tea and watching the sun rise. After a while, Taral sighed and leaned over to rest his head on Sejun’s shoulder. “I may go back to bed for a while.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Taral huffed quietly. “I suppose it is.”

They made slow love as the birds sang outside, Taral on top of Sejun and kissing him again and again as they lazily rubbed off on each other. Taral was quiet until the very end, then gave a single groan as he spilled over Sejun’s belly. Sejun’s knot only swelled halfway, but it throbbed as sweet as ever in Taral’s hand as Taral brought him over the edge.

“NowI’m going to sleep,” Taral announced, and rolled over to do exactly that.

When he woke again, Sejun could tell from his scent that his heat was over. He stirred in the bed but didn’t move to get up, only lay there with the blankets pulled up to his chin even though the room was growing warm as the sun moved toward noon.

Sejun finished the letter he was writing to his mother and crossed the room to sit on the bed. “Would you like a bath?” he asked, bracing himself for Taral to send him away as he had the last time.

“Later,” Taral said. His eyes looked almost gold in the bright sunlight. He extracted one hand from beneath the blankets to rub at his face, and let out a sigh.

“How do you feel?” Sejun asked.

“Tired. That’s normal.” Taral’s eyes searched Sejun’s face. “Would you lie down with me for a while?”

Sejun’s chest swelled with pride. He had never felt more like a man. If dragons were real, he could defeat one with his bare hands, never mind that he had never battled anything more dangerous than a large housefly.

“I would be glad to he,” he said. He lay down and took Taral into his arms.

CHAPTER12

Taral felt like himself again in the morning. In Tadasho, he would have risen from his bed and gone immediately to work, to catch up on what he’d neglected during his confinement. But here in Barun, there was nothing that required his attention. He lay in bed as Sejun breathed quietly beside him, trying to make sense of everything that had happened and of his own baffling emotions. He had become a stranger to himself: a stranger who encouraged Sejun’s overtures instead of turning them away, who took joy in Sejun’s happiness. Was this what it was like?

Ehani brought them breakfast and carried away the news that Taral’s heat had ended. Soon he heard the noises downstairs that meant Ram and Gurratan had returned from the main house. His private interlude with Sejun was over.

“Are you recovered enough to go out?” Sejun asked him with raised eyebrows as Taral dressed himself after bathing.

“I’m fine. It’s not so wearying as you seem to think,” Taral said, half hoping Sejun would insist on him spending another day resting in bed. He adjusted a lock of hair on Sejun’s forehead. “I’ll even dance with you tonight, if you can manage to arrange for dancing.”

“Oh, I do think I can manage.” Sejun smiled up at him, and Taral touched his cheek, one quick brush with his fingertips before he left the room.

He found Gurratan doing some mending in the main room of the house, sitting by an open window for the light. He had taken on most of the steading’s sewing as his pregnancy began to limit his usual activities, and a pile of linens sat on the table beside him, waiting for his attentions. Taral sat down beside him and said, “I’ll help if you have a spare needle.”