Lovers and Beloveds Read online

  Lovers and Beloveds

  An Intimate History of the Greater Kingdom Book One

  By MeiLin Miranda

  Smashwords Edition

  This work is copyright 2010 Lynn Siprelle writing as MeiLin Miranda, and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 171 Second Street, Suite 300, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.

  This book is available in print at http://www.meilinmiranda.com/.

  * * * * *

  An Intimate History of the Greater Kingdom

  Book One: Lovers and Beloveds

  Book Two: Son in Sorrow

  Prequel stories: “Accounts” and “The Gratification Engine” (ebook only)

  Aria Afton Presents

  The Mage's Toy

  The Amber Cross

  Other books by MeiLin Miranda

  Scryer’s Gulch

  The Machine God (The Drifting Isle Chronicles)

  All books available at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/MeiLinMiranda

  To the forty-eight people who funded the production of this book, expecting nothing but the finished story...But mostly, to the man whose love I work every day to justify.

  * * * * *

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Appendix I: Tremontine Calendar and Measurements

  Appendix II: Pronunciation

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER ONE

  Whithorse Estate, Whithorse Province

  Ammaday, the 5th Day of Spring's Beginning, 990 KY

  In the stable yards of Whithorse Estate, two lanterns burned. They shone up at their owners, who sat on a straw bale against a brick wall. The low light transformed the rangy, blue-eyed one's fair hair into a burnished bronze, and turned the shorter, stockier one's eyes near-black. Both wore battered old tweed caps, and coats just heavy enough for the early spring night. The shorter one held a flask of wuisc, full at the start of the evening, and as its level dropped, they listed into one another more and more.

  "Say, d'you plan on drinking that whole thing yourself?" said the tall one.

  The shorter one passed the flask over. "Be careful, Tem, you're not used to this stuff."

  "And you are?" said Temmin. "If I'm going to the Keep, I have to learn to drink." He took a choking swallow, and pulled a face. "Where did you get this stuff? Besides, it's our last night to do this sort of thing. Any sort of thing." Temmin sighed and bumped his head against the bricks. "Why do I have to go, Alvy? Why can't I stay here in Whithorse? Breed horses for the family or something?"

  "Don't gulp it, sip it," said Alvo. "The King needs just so many horses, and you're his only son."

  "Sedra should be the Heir. She's smarter, and she's the oldest."

  Alvo took the flask back, sipped, and snorted. "A woman will rule when Nerr gets the Heir. For that matter," he added, "this wuisc will be drinkable when Nerr gets the Heir. I told you I couldn't get the good stuff. Crokker would've given you some if you'd just asked."

  "And let Mama find out? I don't think so." Temmin sat up straighter. "Here's a thought. You go to the Keep and be the Heir and I'll take your job."

  "You could pass for a groom in that cap, but somehow I don't think His Majesty would mistake me for you."

  "And why won't he let me take you with me?" said Temmin. "You're my best friend, and the best groom I know. What will I do without you? What will Jebby do without you?"

  "They have grooms at the Keep who'll keep your horse in trim. You spoil him, y'know."

  "Jebby deserves all the sugar lumps in the world, if I could get them away from Elly. She shouldn't eat 'em all, anyway. T'ain't fair to the horses, and gives her the headache. Sisters--between her and Sedra..."

  They fell silent as the sky faded from deep indigo to black. "Turning eighteen is awful," Temmin resumed. "They make you do things you don't want to do, like study, and have tea with old baronesses that smell like heliotrope soap."

  Alvo took his friend's hand. "I don't want you to go, either, but you gotta." He looked down on their joined hands, both short-nailed and tan from the sun, his own rougher and the nails much dirtier. "I need to tell you something." He pressed his lips together and licked them. "I love you."

  Temmin gave his friend a bright, unsteady smile. "I love you too, Alvy." He resumed staring into a wobbly middle distance.

  "No, I mean I love you--"

  "Ssh!" Temmin blared. "I hear someone!" He rose to his feet, listening. Floating from the hedge alley came the sounds of a young woman's light laughter, ending in a soft groan.

  Alvo took up a lantern, rising more surefooted. "You don't know who's there!"

  "That's the point!" Temmin lurched on tiptoe toward the alley and barged through a gap in the hedge, Alvo on his heels.

  Two young lovers appeared in the lamplight. A footman pressed a maid up against the hedge, his arousal poking from his unbuttoned fly; her breast shone white and rose against the dark green of her open bodice. The footman jumped back, fumbling with his trousers. "Who would you two be--my Gran's, judging by the livery," said Temmin, tipping on his heels as he stared. The footman hid his face in his coat, and ran down the alley toward Meadow House, the smaller of the two great houses now barely visible against the night sky. "Hey! Did you see who that was?" he said to Alvo, who shook his head.

  Temmin turned toward the girl. She hid halfway in the hedge and tried to cover her breasts, but her fingers shook too much to do up the fastenings. "It's all right--no, let me see," said Temmin, staying her hand. "Alvy, hold the lantern. I haven't ever seen a woman undressed. You're very pretty. What's your name?"

  "Temmin, leave her alone," coaxed Alvo. "Let's go back, we haven't finished the flask." He tugged at the Prince's sleeve, but obediently held up the lantern.

  Temmin shook him off. "So you serve the Dowager Duchess at Meadow House?" he said to the girl. "What's your name?"

  "Mattisanis Dunley, Your Highness, but everyone calls me Mattie," said the girl. "Please, sir, I need my job. Please don't tell Mr Crokker!"

  "Why would I tell the butler one of the maids has pretty tits? Alvy, how come none of the maids at the Great House have pretty tits?"

  "Tem, come on!" said Alvo.

  "No, it's true! All the maids at the Great House are old women--at least 35 if they're a day--and they're as homely as ever a woman was." Temmin's hand still rested over hers, and his thoughtless thumb stroked the bare skin above her breast. "You really are very pretty. Mattie, is it? Was that your sweetheart? Not a very amiable fellow, if you ask me."

  "Please, sir! Don't tell Mr Crokker!" she said. Tears dampened her heart-shaped face, and Temmin fuzzily followed one off the point of her chin, past her collarbone, and down between her breasts.

  "Now, there, don't cry!" said Temmin, patting her cheek in drunken concern. "Pretty girls shouldn't cry. If he's really your sweetheart, he'll come back." He handed her a handkerchief. Mattie wiped her eyes, but when she moved to close her bodice, Temmin stopped her again. "I'm not done looking, and you obviously don't mind or you wouldn't have bee
n out here with that footman. In fact, I should really like to touch them. May I touch them? You seemed to like it."

  "Tem!" hissed Alvo. "You're drunk!"

  "Pagg's own balls! Why would I be drunk just to want to touch a pretty girl's tits! Don't you want to?"

  "No!"

  "Just don't tell Mr Crokker, sir, please don't tell, I need my job, you can touch all you like, just please don't!" Mattie pleaded. She opened her bodice further.

  "See?" said Temmin. "I told you she liked it! Now," he said to Mattie, "do stop crying, and stop asking me not to tell Crokker, I'm going to do no such thing!" He stumbled, steadying himself on her breasts. "Oh, that's so nice! I've always wanted to feel one. Alvy, you sure you don't want to have a go? She ha two of 'em, and she doesn't mind, do you?"

  "No, I don't want to have a go, I want to get out of here and leave her alone!" said Alvo.

  "Then go," said Temmin. "But leave the lantern." Alvo stomped away, leaving the lantern on the ground; it lit one side of Mattie's face and threw the rest into shadow.

  Temmin pressed closer; she turned her face away, but he brushed it back toward the light. "Does your sweetheart kiss you? D'you like that? Never kissed a girl a-tall--don't tell anyone. May I have a kiss? Just one." She nodded, tucking her chin into her neck.

  He kissed her, sloppy, inexpert and fumbling; she alternately squirmed and turned rigid, until Temmin broke it off. "Don't you like this?" he asked. "You said you did."

  His eyes grew wide, his stomach lurched, and he stumbled back. "Alvy?" he called. "Dammit! Not now! Alvy!" Alvo ran back, just in time for Temmin to drop to his knees and vomit.

  "I told you to sip it!" said Alvo. He turned to Mattie; she held her bodice closed with one hand, the other over her mouth. "He doesn't know much about girls except his sisters, and he's pretty drunk. I'm sorry about this whole thing. Nothing will happen to you, I swear. Just go and don't be stupid again--you were lucky it was us and not someone else!" Mattie nodded and ran down the dark hedge alley toward Meadow House.

  Temmin heaved a few times more before he sat back on his heels, gasping. "Are you done?" said Alvo.

  Temmin nodded. "I think so. Oh, gods." Alvo moved to help him up, but Temmin held up one hand and stood on his own. He swiveled a bleary gaze round the alley. "Where's the girl?"

  "She's gone. I sent her home."

  "What did you do that for? She might've let me kiss her some more!"

  "Go wash your face and rinse your mouth out. You stink." Alvo stalked back to the straw bale and plunked himself down again. "Tem, that was not right," said Alvo.

  Temmin stuck his head in the horse trough and came up dripping and spitting."She said yes, and she let that footman do a lot more to her than I did. Where's the flask gotten to?"

  "No. No, no, and no."

  Temmin sighed, sat down, and adjusted himself. "Pagg damn it, why'd you send that girl away?"

  "You wouldn't know what to do anyway."

  "I might've found out! And like you know anything about girls, either."

  "I'm not interested in knowing anything. Tem, what if that had been Elly or Seddy?"

  "That's disgusting!"

  "I don't mean one of your sisters literally! She's probably someone's sister, and I know how I'd feel if someone tried that with my sister. What if someone tried that with one of yours?"

  "Never happen," declared Temmin. "Can't see either of 'em hiding in the hedges with a footman."

  "Oh, gods, I give up."

  Temmin adjusted himself again. "Doesn't matter anyway. She's gone, and I'm left with this."

  Alvo looked at the ground. "Tem," he began. "I've been trying to tell you something tonight. Wasn't brave enough before now, but I'm out of time--listen," he said, taking his friend's arm. "Chances are we won't ever see each other again."

  "Don't be stupid, I'll come home at some point."

  "I don't think they'll let you. Not till you've forgotten me and your whole life here. We've been best friends 'most all our lives--"

  "We'll always be best friends, no one can stop that."

  "They're gonna try! I think that's why I can't come with you--I'm just a groom, and you're the Heir, we can't be friends forever, they won't let us. And I think that's why you won't be coming home any time soon. Maybe never. I think this is our last night."

  "Who's 'they?'" said Temmin.

  Alvo shook his head. "If this is the last time, I have to tell you--I love you."

  "Y'already said that, Alvy, I love you too."

  "Would you listen!" Alvo crouched down on the ground before Temmin and put his hands on his friend's knees. Tears streamed down his broad face. "I love you! I don't love anyone else in this world like I love you! You're all I've ever thought about, since we were ten! I feel like I'm gonna die when you go, you understand? I love you!"

  Temmin leaned forward in alarm. "What are you talking about?"

  Alvo put one calloused hand up to Temmin's face. "I just love you." He came up off his heels, and kissed Temmin on the mouth. "I love you."

  Temmin moved his friend's hand away from his cheek, but kept hold of it. "Alvo..."

  "I know you don't feel the same way, I know you like girls more than boys, I know all that! Can't you pretend, just for now? Can't you let me have this little bit? Please. Tomorrow you'll be gone, and you'll get a new best friend, and you'll get married, and become King some day, and forget about me." Alvo's voice broke. "Please, Tem. Please."

  Temmin stared down into his friend's pleading eyes, tears forming in his own. Alvo was his best friend; he'd never thought of anything else. When they were younger, they'd kissed a few times. It was fun, but he'd always thought of it as practice for girls. He loved Alvo, but this--he didn't have time to think, he was going away tomorrow morning, he was drunk, why now? Alvo sobbed, great, heartbreaking waves of tears.

  Frustration and grief rose in Temmin's throat. "Why didn't you--why now? Dammit!" he said aloud. He pulled Alvo close, and tried to comfort him, pulling him back onto the straw bale. When Alvo kissed him again, Temmin didn't pull away.

  They kissed until they gasped. Alvo fumbled with Temmin's clothes, finding the trouser buttons. "I know this isn't for me, but let me just touch you," Alvo whispered. He took Temmin's erection in his hand.

  Temmin groaned and slumped back against the bricks. He'd touched himself, many, many times. Nothing like this, nothing so emotional, or so pleasurable; the sensation left him as dizzy as if he'd been knocked over the head. Alvo slipped down from the bale to kneel between Temmin's legs, stroking him. "Just let me--" He licked at it, then took it in his mouth.

  No one had touched Temmin like this before. The heat, the wetness, the friction, the anticipation--all of it new, ecstatic, and terrifying. He held his breath as his orgasm built faster than he could control. He came without a sound, eyes wide and astonished, hands resting on Alvo's head. He gulped in air; his brain, already muzzy, refused to work at all, and he slumped against the wall in a stupor.

  Alvo jumped to his feet. "I have to go now."

  "Alvy, wait!" Temmin tried to get up, but his friend was faster.

  "I just have to go! I have to go!" Alvo ran, leaving his lantern behind.

  Temmin watched his friend disappear into the darkness. He leaned back against the bricks, the lamplight reflecting on his still-wet cheeks. He fastened himself up. Wiping his face on his coat sleeve, he picked up his lantern and wobbled up the alley toward the courtyard and the Great House beyond, leaving Alvo's lantern to burn itself out.

  The next day hurt. "It's called a 'hangover,'" said Jenks as he bustled around the room packing Temmin's last things. "The first one's the hardest. Come on, Your Highness, ass out of bed. Serves you out for drinking in the first place."

  "Go away, Jenks. I'm not going," said Temmin.

  "Balls to that, and up you go, young sir. I've only got two hours to get you into a state fit to be seen by your mother, let alone smelled. Drink this," he ordered, thrusting a glass filled with a visc
ous, malodorous liquid in Temmin's direction.

  Temmin took the glass. He gave the big man a dubious eye, the glass an even more dubious eye, and downed it. "My gods! That's foul!" he spat.

  "Aids the head and the stomach. Take it from one who knows. Into the tub. No sympathy from this corner. You did it to yourself. What did you two drink last night?"

  "Was supposed to be wuisc," mumbled Temmin through the washcloth over his mouth.

  "Horse piss, more like," said the valet, his solid bulk filling the doorway. "Tell Alvo next time to come see me. If you two are set on drunkenness, I don't want blindness following on its heels."

  Temmin dunked his head and blew water out his nose; if Alvo was right, there wouldn't be a next time. And what would he say if there were?

  Temmin found his mother already waiting in the grand entrance hall. Queen Ansella had given Temmin his blue eyes and golden blond hair, and this morning the smooth blond plaits framing her face shone in the light from the wide, round window over the great doors. How pretty she was in blue! Only her children would recognize the unhappy cast to her eyes, an unhappiness Temmin shared. They had both been born at Whithorse. Temmin had lived there his entire life. He wanted to be cheerful for her sake, and though the hangover remedy helped, it didn't help enough, and he glumly shook hands and said goodbye to his grandmother the Dowager Duchess and the Great House staff. Every last servant cried, even the fierce Crokker; the butler shook his hand with such emotion Temmin blushed for him.

  Temmin waved out the window until the Great House disappeared and they were well on the road to Reggiston. Once out of sight, he slumped into a groaning heap. "Pagg's own, my head."

  "Don't swear, Temmy," said his mother. "And if you're going to get drunk, you should expect a headache."

  Temmin sat up. "Who told you I got drunk last night?"

  "You did, this very second." Ansella smiled. "I was guessing, sweetheart."

  Temmin closed his eyes in queasiness and consternation, but opened them again. "Say, where's Sister Ibbit?"

  "She's leaving from the Healer's House. I suspect she wanted to give us this last moment to ourselves."