Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
But there is one word Ashara said, just one word, that stuck out to him instantly. A Hindi word he picked up from a book.
The word is bhai.
It means “brother”.
It must be an hour later before Kaleb finds the Velvet Row at long last. He starts to hurry, knowing his room is just around the corner, tucked away into the wall, his safe space. He will get to do the things he wanted—bathe, relax, read his book.
But how will he be able to enjoy any of those things with this ominous feeling hovering over him?
Maybe Markadian was mocking him the whole time.
He isn’t strong. He has no resolve. No fortitude.
He’s a tiny man. A tiny, broken man who stutters, who has the emotional aptitude of a child, whose special musical talent has been twisted into a sexual game of power and exploitation.
Kaleb opens his bedroom door, slips inside, shuts it.
Then: “Goodness, where have you been?”
Kaleb turns, startled. On the edge of the bed sits Raya in an oversized, flowing black gown. Both her arms are swallowed in lace and fabric.
Relief washes over Kaleb. She is exactly who he wanted to see. “Raya. I was with Mark—Sorry, with Lord Markadian. He keeps summoning me to his room. To, um …” Suddenly he’s ashamed. “To practice. My music.”
“Your lip,” she says, rising from the bed and crossing the room. Without pause, she grips him by the chin, turns his face left, right. “Did you injure it?”
“Um … yeah,” he decides to say. “I tripped on the carpet in the hall, fell and bit my lip. I’m okay, I think.”
“You’re lying.” Raya lets go of his face. “And are you aware you’re entirely naked?”
“Yes,” he answers. “I … seem to be naked a lot lately.”
“That’s because Lord Markadian finds you adorable. And I guess that comes with both rewards and …” Raya moves back to the bed, seeming distressed, then sits on the edge. “… and with consequences.”
A flicker of Markadian’s maddened, hungry eyes.
The gentle kiss. The sudden bite. The taste of blood.
The unwelcome hand stroking up and down his cock.
Kaleb doesn’t need elaboration on what she means with the word “consequences”. With his hands still covering himself, he quickly goes to his armoire and carefully pulls out some clothes. “I-I’m going to change really quick … if you don’t … um … if you don’t mind.”
“I would like you to be comfortable, yes,” she agrees.
Kaleb slips into the bright bathroom, presses the door shut with his back, then closes his eyes. He doesn’t get dressed. He doesn’t move. He just stays there with his back against the door and breathes in the silent air.
When Raya’s voice comes, it’s right by the door, soft and slightly muffled. “Are you okay, Kaleb?”
Kaleb puts a hand on his mouth suddenly, tries not to cry.
“It’s okay if you’re not okay.” Raya sighs.
Kaleb shuts his eyes tightly.
Tears let loose, but no sound.
“I … I want to tell you something. But I don’t know if I can just yet,” she murmurs quietly. “I just hope you see someday … someday very soon … I hope you see how this House is full of so many little deceptions, more than its décor. The people in it, too. The gods you may have once trusted with your life … and your future … our futures …” Her voice trails off. “Even I have to remember sometimes that no one is who they seem.”
Kaleb drops his hand and parts his lips, struggles to control his breathing, tries to not gasp for air between his silent sobs, to not sniffle or make a sound.
“Do you see me as a goddess?” she then asks.
He can’t answer. If he speaks, his voice will crack, the tears will spill, he’ll fall apart. He can’t let her know he’s crying.
“I’d … I’d prefer you not to,” she goes on. “Honestly. I just want to be … hmm …” She thinks about it. “I want to be a girl. Just a girl you know. Maybe like another tenant. A neighbor. I would like to be just your neighbor girl, a normal girl. It can be our own deception. But … But since we know about it, it isn’t a bad deception, is it? It’s a nice one. I’ll just be a girl you know.”
Kaleb would like that very much.
A girl who lives next door to him, whom he can visit, talk to about the weather, laugh over coffee, have lunch with.
“And you don’t have to be a Blood,” she goes on.
The words at once cause Kaleb’s tears to stop. He listens.
“You don’t even have to be a violinist if you don’t want.” He hears her weight shift on the other side of the door. Perhaps she’s leaning against it, too. “You can just be a boy. A boy who lives next to a girl. You can be the sweet, sensitive guy I’ve kept my eye on. Would you … Would you like that?”