It’s fine that he left. It’s proper. We are not lovers. We are vessel and mage. Duke and duke consort. We do not share a bed or rooms.
The pillow is getting wet from my tears and I didn’t even realize that I was crying. I’m being ridiculous. My wedding night went far better than I had any right to hope for. He wasn’t cruel or disinterested, despite having every right to be. He gave me a blow job for heaven’s sake, I know enough to know that’s rare for a mage to do for his vessel. I’m very lucky and I should be grateful.
And sex is every bit as amazing as I suspected it was, and now I no longer have to go without. Harry will be coming to my bed regularly. I hope my cycle ends up being weekly. That will be a whole lot more fun than monthly. A strange giggle escapes from me. Oh dear, I sound hysterical. It’s a good thing there is no one here to hear.
I lie alone in my bed, watching the sky lighten and the sunrise, until it is time for breakfast. Then I shower and dress before heading with some trepidation to the breakfast room. Is Harry going to be there? What kind of greeting will I receive?
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and enter. Harry is sitting at the table reading a newspaper with a cup of black coffee in front of him. The winter morning light is streaming through the window and illuminating his golden hair. He looks gorgeous. I can sense his power and it is laced with magic that used to be my own. It makes me feel a little queasy.
Aquamarine eyes glance up from his paper to meet my gaze. He nods in greeting and turns his attention back to reading.
Okay, that wasn’t hostile at least. But it wasn’t exactly warm. I stumble over to the serving table and grab a croissant and an orange juice, mostly for something to do. Should I sit next to him? No, that is far too forward. I’ll take a seat across from him instead.
We sit in silence. Is it comfortable silence? I hope so. Should I say something? I’ll just pour myself a cup of tea for now.
I’m startled by a young man strolling into the breakfast room. The first thing I see is his legs that seem to stretch forever. He is wearing tiny tight pink shorts so there is plenty of perfect pale leg to see. He is also wearing a glittery sequin bestrewn crop top, so there is also a lot of perfect stomach and midriff to see. His long dark hair tumbles in gorgeous soft waves past his shoulders.
He strides up to the serving table, grabs a pastry and shoves it in his mouth. He is beautiful and exotic. Is he Harry’s lover? I swallow. Now I feel all kinds of inadequate.
“Jem, please tell me that you did not just get in,” says Harry, sounding awfully exasperated.
Jem shrugs. “Fine. I won’t tell you that. I’ll tell you that I spent the night curled up in my own bed with a mug of coco.”
He nonchalantly takes a seat and places his bare feet up on the table. His toenails are painted with rainbow glittery polish.
“Jem!” growls Harry.
Jem rolls his eyes and removes his feet from the table before taking another huge bite of the pastry. Harry continues to glare at him until eventually the young man surrenders.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t give anyone the goods. My magic is untouched. All nice and ready for the next mage who wants it.”
I thought he was a vessel! And if the tingling of my skin is anything to go by, he is a very powerful one too. This is awful. I can’t compete with him! He is a ten to my three, and that’s me being generous to myself. I need to sip my tea to cover my face and hide my expression.
“Good,” says Harry, sounding very relieved.
“I just sucked a lot of cocks instead.”
I splutter my tea everywhere, and Harry’s face darkens. Jem smirks at us both, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“What? What’s going to happen? I’m going to be shamed and ostracized from society?” He clutches at his heart in mock fear. “Oh… wait… that’s already happened.” He shoves the remainder of the pastry into his mouth rather aggressively.
Harry sighs wearily.
My gaze flicks between the two of them. I’m not sure what to do or say, or where to look.
“Colby, this is my brother, James Cambell. Jem, this is my husband and vessel, Colby,” Harry says drolly.
Jem leans back in his chair, snatches another pastry off the serving table and raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh, sorry. I assumed you were just his latest conquest.”
“Jem!” Harry yells and smashes his fist against the table but Jem doesn’t even flinch.
Instead, he puts on an innocent face. “Oh goodness, was the wedding yesterday? I guess I forgot, probably because I wasn’t invited.”
“Jem! Fuck off!” snarls Harry.
Jem huffs, rolls his eyes and flounces out of the breakfast room whilst still eating his second pastry.
Harry turns to me, and he looks rather deflated. “Sorry about him,” he mutters.
