a Pleasure Rites, #1 by Ines Johnson (top ten books of all time TXT) 📗

hand. "There's not much I can make right in this world, being a man. But I can leave the people I care about in the comfort that was given to me."

"I don't understand what you mean, Dain."

"Khial's family wealth was claimed by the Sisterhood for his mother's crimes. My wealth cannot pass to Khial being that he's a man. When we are bonded, all of my wealth will pass to you, and both you and Khial will be cared for."

Chanyn looked to Khial for clarification, but he would not meet her eyes. She'd come into this room to break the engagement with Dain. The worst she expected when she crossed the threshold was losing a friend, losing a home. She'd never fathomed that her friend's life would be put in her hands. But as she was about to learn, it didn't end there.

"My uncle will contest the transfer of wealth when I'm gone. To ensure that he cannot, I'll need to leave an heir. A male heir would make things difficult, but not impossible for my uncle to win a case in a court of law. A female heir will leave no room for argument."

Chanyn trembled. Not in the way when Jian touched her. Not in the way when her mother raised her voice.

Dain reached for her other hand. "I'm sorry that I won't be here to walk the gardens with you, or teach you those board games." He tried for a smile but failed. "I know I should have told you from the beginning. It was wrong of me to mislead you. But I couldn't stand the thought of you alone in those ruins. And I didn't want you in a union with males who didn't care about you. I hope this doesn't change your mind?"

How could she do this? Have a child with another man? A dying man. Her dying friend whom she loved, but in a non-intimate way. Her friend who'd withheld information, but only because he thought he could give her the life he felt she deserved. Neither her heart nor her mind knew which way to turn.

"The monk, Brother Jian, has agreed to help."

Chanyn's mind went blank and her weary heart hit the floor.

"He has a few conditions, though," Dain continued.

So, Jian had agreed to this scheme with a head level enough to make stipulations. Chanyn's mind fogged. Ice ran through the chambers of her heart.

"He insists that we formalize the bond before we begin any conception rituals."

Meaning Jian wanted Chanyn to understand that he was beyond her reach before he touched her again. So, she had her answer on whether or not he felt anything for her.

12

Khial watched Chanyn take the news. The blood drained from her brown face. The light wept out of her eyes.

For days, he'd been concerned that she desired Dain's heart. It was clear that she cared for Dain. Care and desire were two different animals.

He’d watched Chanyn mope around the garden the past two mornings. The sadness of her solitary walks was not the same as the sadness of her silent vigil as she watched Dain fall asleep. Chanyn cared for Dain, but her heart belonged to another.

The thought should have eased Khial entirely. It didn't. Neither of them would be allowed to keep the men they desired. This world was cruel. In the face of the Goddesses' cruelty, Khial did what he always did. He picked up his bow and played.

Music had been Khial's outlet, likely from the time he was in the womb. His mother published a study on the effects of different genres of music on a growing fetus. Khial read the paper once he reached school age. Apparently, that study was his first failure at meeting his mother's expectations. In the study, his mother postulated that playing classical music would breed females. To her ire, Khial came into the world with one too many appendages, along with an affinity for classical music.

When Khial was older, his mother tested the theory of whether spanking a child had a better outcome than issuing time outs. Spanking a female child was outlawed. But no such law existed when it came to a difficult to handle, hard-headed, male child. The problem Khial's mother came across? Khial never misbehaved. Left alone, Khial stayed quietly in his room from sunup to sundown, practicing his instrument. His mother focused on that. If Khial made a mistake, he would be alternately beaten by one of his fathers or have his instrument taken away as a time out.

Khial's response? He stopped practicing at home. He feigned giving up the violin altogether, and in time, his mother forgot that experiment and moved on to worse. Khial did not give up music. It had settled in his very soul. He practiced at school instead.

One day, while practicing a particularly difficult piece, Dain materialized from the shadows. Khial shrank away, horrified that someone heard his repeated mistakes. He flinched when Dain came closer, expecting to be hit or ridiculed. Dain came up to him, glowing smile in place, and called Khial's music beautiful. Khial had never received praise for his playing. From that day forward his soul belonged to Dain. He played for Dain every day after.

Khial played that song now, that difficult piece from their first meeting. He found it as complex now as he had as a child. The pads of his fingers bruised as he vibrated the strings to affect the mourning sounds the notes demanded. His bow glided up and down on the low string as he approached the ending. Like always, his fingers tired, his arms ached, and he tripped on the last note. And like always, he flinched from the expectation of one of his fathers' strike.

"That was beautiful."

Khial startled. Chanyn's liquid eyes regarded him, her mouth parted. He saw unmasked joy on her face.

He stared for a second, committing it to memory before admitting, "I messed up."

Chanyn shrugged her slim shoulders. "I couldn't tell."

Khial watched her supple breasts