Chapter 12 Part 10 | Lovers and Beloveds | IHGK Book 1
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Temmin withdrew from the book. He brimmed with desire, outrage, disgust and a deep need to see Emmae revenged, every hand on her, every one of Hildin's infuriating strokes imprinted on his body. That such a personal violation could bring on such ecstasy--it had to be the spell.
"You're shaking, Your Highness," said Teacher. "Take a moment."
Temmin closed his eyes, marshalling his emotions. "I want him dead, I so want to see him die," he muttered.
"You will."
Temmin concentrated on the velvet upholstery under his fingers, and the soft dry heat from the low fire. He closed his eyes; the insides of his eyelids shone coral in the sunlight falling across his face, until a shadow crossed him; Teacher blocked the light from the window. "Every time the book tells her part of the story, it takes me a bit to feel myself again--especially to feel fully male again. You think that's funny?" Temmin added in irritation.
"Oh, not exactly," said Teacher, lips twitching. "Go on."
"I just thank Farr I'm not a woman. I haven't even had sex yet, not really, and here my head's filled with her experiences. I'm just glad I was made for—ehm--doing...not...being done to?" he trailed off, wincing.
The twitch turned into a smile. "What do you think goes on between Mentors and Students, between lovers of men?"
"Isn't it like what Hildin and Gian...or what Gian does to Hildin...isn't it just mouths? And hands?" said Temmin, thinking of the men in the petitioning rooms, and of Alvo.
"It depends on the lovers involved," said Teacher. "Remember what Gian said to Emmae. Hildin took him in that way, too. More shall be revealed at the Temple, I am sure."
"I should hope not."
"I should bet on it, were I you, sir."
"Let's not talk about it," he said, waving his hand to dispel the thought. "Why didn't Emmae's father stop the marriage? He knew something was wrong, he had to have known."
"Think about it as her father would have. Whoever held her, probably had her--at least, everyone assumed so, including Fredrik. Royal women especially must come to the marriage bed virgins. Emmae's captivity damaged her, destroyed her reputation. The only way Fredrik could get her decently married was to swear his kingdom would pass to her husband. If she had had a brother, even another sister, Emmae would have been sent to a Temple and forgotten." Temmin couldn't read Teacher's face, shadowed from the sunlight, but the cool voice retained a pragmatic tone. "Hildin seemed genuinely pleased to have her, even though she was broken."
"But she wasn't broken," said Temmin.
"She was not a virgin."
"No..." Marriage required a girl's virginity; if the groom's family wouldn't look the other way at an unfortunate Sister's Temple evaluation, the wedding would be canceled, but Temmin had never heard of it happening. Though how would he know, he admitted.
He thought of the sentimental songs Nurse liked to sing sometimes in the evenings, especially if she'd had a bit too much barisha. Ellika would play the nursery spinet, Sedra would roll her eyes and retire to read in the furthest corner; his mother would tut-tut as Nurse crooned about naughty boys who didn't obey their mothers and fell down wells, sad young men dying on battlefields, a lost love's name on their lips, and ruined girls, ravished and abandoned by noblemen, throwing themselves over bridges, their drowned bodies floating past the battlements of their evil seducers. For such a cheerful, busy woman, Nurse loved her maudlin tragicals, reflected Temmin.
"Imagine were one of your sisters somehow compromised like this," said Teacher. "What would happen to her? What do you think your father would do?"
"You'd have a far better notion than I would."
"Even so, cast your mind on it. You are king. You have two daughters. One of them has been shamed, everyone knowing she is likely no longer a virgin, though no one would dare say anything."
Temmin thought of Ellika's bright, golden smile and Sedra's dark, amused eyes as they sat before the fire the night before. "I'd think anyone would marry either of 'em," he answered. "Sure, they're annoying, but they're both pretty, especially Elly, and Seddy is very good company when she cares to be. And they're the King's daughters. I can't see where virginity would make a difference."
"But it does. No man wants another man's leavings."
Temmin blanched. He'd called Allis his father's leavings, just two days ago. That was different, wasn't it? Going after one's own father had to be different than going after some random man. Allis was no virgin, far from it, and it didn't bother him, did it? Or was this an example of Percy's species in the species? "I don't think that's necessarily true."
"You are thinking of Allis. She is a Beloved. Beloveds are by definition experienced, as are mistresses, courtesans and prostitutes. One takes them to bed, not to wed."
"So tell me what Father would do."
"He would marry her off as quickly as possible," said Teacher. "She would be given to the first consenting noble."
Temmin put his feet up. "I don't see how that's all that different than what he has in mind for them now."
"Your father is trying to make good matches for your sisters both for the kingdom and for their own sakes. If he can possibly combine the two, he will."
"But the kingdom comes first," said Temmin.
"Yes, it does," admitted Teacher.
"Then kings should never be fathers," grumbled Temmin.
That night, Temmin decided to brave the dining room. If his father wanted enmity, he'd return it, Pagg be damned.
He got no chance to show his father unpious incivility; the King dined elsewhere, and so Temmin found himself staring at Fennows over the after-dinner port. "Well!" said the spotty young lord. "Bit of a time you're having with the old man! Damned unhappy about the whole Temple thing. Still doing it, eh? Well, I suppose you'll live it down at some point."
"Serving the Gods is not something to live down, Percy."
Fennows snorted. "Among the common people, no. You'll be celebrated in story and song as the Virgin Prince, I should think. It's not the peasants and merchants I'm thinking of, but our sort of people."
"Here's what I want to know," said Temmin, cracking a walnut between his fingers and tossing the shell in Percy's general direction. "Why is it so important that a man should be sexually experienced as soon as possible, when women must be virgins until they marry?"
"What?" said Fennows. "You can't be serious. Let me hand round the bottle, old thing, your gears are stuck and in need of lubrication."
"I'm quite serious!" said Temmin, automatically pouring himself another glass. "For instance, if you loved a girl, would you care if she wasn't a virgin? You'd marry her, wouldn't you? I mean, she's not supposed to even know about all the women you've had."
"That's because I'm a man," explained Fennows in a slow, singsong voice. He sat up straighter. "You're not implying anything about Elly, are you?"
"Elly? What? No! Of course not. Why d'you always talk about Elly as if she's practically-- I'm speaking in general," he ended impatiently.
"I wouldn't pay for a dinner where someone else had eaten the main course, would I? No man wants a slut for a wife."
"I'm not talking about a slut! I just mean--what if something had happened--she was tricked, or she was forced, or something?"
"Women are weak-willed, true. But damage is damage. She'd be lucky if anyone took her. End up at a Temple, I should think." Fennows cocked his head; his small eyes studied Temmin's face. "You can't marry Allis Obby, you know, Temmy."
Temmin gaped. "I'm not talking about Allis," he said.
"Then what are you talking about?"
"I'm not sure I know," Temmin murmured.
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