The books that equated palteia with submissive had been written by someone with a flawed understanding of either human or Rownt nature. Perhaps others were not as nuanced in their understanding as he was. After all, he had an uncommon ability to grasp the nuances of at least two Earth languages, and various regional dialects of Rownt. He was grateful that Rownt and their languages changed more slowly. If Rownt had the same diversity of speech as humans did, he was not sure how they would ever cooperate as a planet. Perhaps that was why humans were so fractious.
Too many Rownt accepted human tendencies toward violence as normal. They saw only angry little aliens when they saw the paler humans and odd little aliens when looking at the darker ones. However, Takil knew humans were more likely to relinquish what they wanted in favor of helping another’s needs than any Rownt. He hoped to write a missive on the human concept of charity.
But that was a topic for another day.
Today, he was far more interested in a palteia. And he was not fool enough to confuse palteia and submissive. Those two concepts were as alike as a kawt and bulfa fruit.
A human separated from the mass of dancers. Given the amount of skin showing and the pattern of leather adornments, this was a submissive. The visible line of muscle in his limbs and the symmetrical nature of his features indicated attractiveness from a human perspective and his darker skin made him appear calmer to Rownt eyes. The submissive approached him and quickly slid to his knees.
This was a custom unique to human submissives. Other Rownt suffered serious damage to their reputations when they had assumed that such a gesture implied a palteia in need, begging for protection. Takil had learned that a submissive who did this was less likely to be begging than he was to be seeking to advance his own end. And that end was would include Takil’s tail. But today he had other concerns. He did not wish to play the part of the chilta for an hour or two because that was a child’s game, and he was no child. The silence grew annoying.
“What do you require?” Takil asked.
The submissive kept his gaze focused on Takil’s knees, or perhaps it was more accurate to say in the general direction of his tail. “I would serve you.”
“No.” This was no palteia, but Takil still felt that niggle of unhappiness at causing pain to one who was on his knees. Human submissives were very dangerous in their ability to gain the outcome they sought. He would not underestimate this one or allow the posture to distract him from his profit.
“If I am not pleasing...” The submissive allowed the words to trail off, and he sank a little lower. Either he was suffering the loss of status that failure inevitably led to or he sought to manipulate Takil’s emotions. Takil weighed his words. He had a child’s need to strike out at someone annoying him, but he gave his donation to the temple. He was ye-rank, and he would not disgrace his rank by reacting as a child.
Despite his own discomfort at complimenting another, Takil said, “You are remarkably pleasing, and I suspect enough men have said that to you that your ego has no need for my attention. And since I am here for business that does not involve you, seek other prey.” It was not phrased as a human might, but there was a limit to Takil’s maturity. He would not be more polite than that to another adult who interfered with his trade.
The submissive kept his head tilted to the side as he studied Takil’s face. After a second, he stood gracefully, his body angled away as he scanned the crowd. No doubt he would find someone else to play chilta for the evening. Takil had enjoyed that game himself many times, but play-acting was for children and ye-dalit. Takil was neither.
As the submissive abandoned his chase, Takil turned his attention to the server who provided alcoholic drinks to those gathered at his station. Amryi. Between serving those who sought refreshments, Amryi also watched Takil.
Amryi showed signs of age that even Takil’s human father did not after hundreds of years. Amryi’s hair was mottled with white and when he frowned, his skin lacked the elasticity to move freely, creating folds in the dark skin that reminded Takil of a Grandmother.
Amryi had seen Takil entertain submissives, but that had been years ago. Since Takil had returned to Earth, he had earned his first title. But Amryi was not Rownt. He had not seen how servers on theCaltiwould now bring him meat. He did not understand that Takil had moved out of the common rooms of those without titles and into a room of his own.
Takil wondered if Amryi formed theories to explain Takil’s change. He returned to serving those at his station, and Takil watched the dancing humans with very little interest . After reading stories that had speculated on the relations between his parents, Takil had experimented with a variety of pleasures.
Those had all resulted in human gratification, but Takil had ranged from bored to uncomfortable. Some of the acts were unpleasant enough that Takil could not imagine Ondry performing them, although he would if Liam enjoyed them. However, Liam would never enjoy something that displeased Ondry, and no chilta could keep a secret from his palteia.
Takil had decided that human speculation was incorrect if not anatomically impossible. He had also found that most human submissives were deaf and blind to the pleasure of the dominant. The few true palteia Takil had found already had chilta. Either they were curious about Takil’s ability to give pleasure and a chilta approached Takil, asking for assistance in helping provide pleasure or the palteia hoped to please his or her chilta by performing with Takil.
Those pairings were far more pleasurable. Making a true palteia happy gave Takil satisfaction, even if he did have to watch the palteia he pleased leave with another. But those encounters were rare, and Takil had stopped coming to this club for many years. A public announcement of the death of the owner had brought him back.
As time passed, the music grew softer. Many patrons took that as a signal to leave. The floor grew less populated, and the lights grew harsher. Few people at tables remained, and Amryi left his serving station to visit each table.
Amryi gave Takil an incomplete smile as he approached the table. Only the corners of his mouth moved. “We are closing soon.”
“I will wait until everyone else has left,” Takil said. He was not surprised that Amryi did not challenge him. He moved to the next table to ask those individuals to leave. The others wandered out and Amryi turned the lights on so they glared off the worn floor and showed the frayed edges of the seat fabric. Takil waited. No doubt Amryi had work to complete, and Takil would not disturb him.
It must have been an hour before Amryi appeared again. He took off the white fabric intended to protect his clothing and left it on the bar before he approached. He stopped at the table and studied Takil.
Silence.
Takil tilted his head. Since Amryi was higher ranked, it was polite to allow him to start, but he continued to stare until Takil was unable to ignore his own discomfort. “Qii has died,” Takil said.
Amryi sucked in a quick breath. “That was rather blunt.”
Blunt. Ironically, that was a synonym for harsh or hard or sharp. Takil warmed in embarrassment. He had not meant to cause distress. “The death was published,” he said. He could not pretend to not know about a public event.
“It’s called an obituary, and yes, Qii did pass. My brother would be very surprised to know you noticed him. Complimented, but surprised.”
Again, the silence grew uncomfortable. Takil had not imagined this awkwardness. Again, he tried to fill the awkward silence with simple fact. “He was chilta.”
“He... what? No. He wasn’t into sexual games.”
