“Sing for me first, Ari’t.” His voice went husky, a little afraid of what she might be able to do. “It would be my honor, Prime Designate.” And out of her mouth flowed a swirling river of music, melodies and tones that needed no words or verses, only the colorful crystal of sound itself. Jora’h felt as if he had been hypnotized.

For decades now, since he had come of age, the Prime Designate’s staff had maintained lists of the women who applied to become his lovers. He had done his duty with diligence, choosing carefully and spreading his noble bloodline among the lesser kiths as well. He mated with swimmers and scalies. He honored women of the least-humanoid-looking breeds. All kiths had admirable qualities, and Jora’h found beauty and strength in each one, though other nobles might have seen only ugliness.

The Prime Designate showed kindness and deference to every one of his mates, though he was never expected to fall in love. Even with mates that he found unattractive, Jora’h took care never to allow them to feel belittled or inadequate.

He particularly remembered a tall, brutish-looking female of the warrior kith, whom he had impregnated the previous year. Mage-Imperator Cyroc’h had taken great pains to impress upon his oldest son that each breed of Ildiran had its unique role in the Empire, and it was Jora’h’s duty to honor them all. Besides, the Prime Designate had enough gorgeous and exotic lovers to make up for any unpleasantness he might briefly endure. In fact, he recalled with generous optimism, that warrior female had given him some of the most exhausting and athletic sex he’d ever enjoyed.

Now in his private chambers, Ari’t’s song carried him through his thoughts and memories until he was no longer aware of where he was. Slowly the singer’s melody changed and her tone grew richer, transforming into an incredibly erotic trilling. Jora’h found himself unbearably aroused, exactly as the singer had intended. Ari’t spoke to him with her music, seduced him with her voice. Breathless, Jora’h came to her. She continued to hum deep in her throat even as he ravenously kissed her, playing his lips down her face and her long, slender neck. His golden hair crackled and thrashed like a static storm around his head.

Oddly, despite the intensity when he and Ari’t were making love, Jora’h’s thoughts were once again diverted, his imagination drawn to the beautiful and unassuming Nira… who was so very different from any Ildiran woman.

83: BASIL WENCESLAS

83BASIL WENCESLAS