TKATP: A Coronation of Blood

Chapter XI: Salvador & Gerard

WARNING: This chapter contains a brief, explicit sexual scene. It is, however, important to character development. Considering this book was marked as mature, I assume you understood what you were in for. In that case, I do suggest not skipping this chapter. If you're uncomfortable with that, then do as you please.

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Release swept through Salvador, starting from his waist and roaring through his head, his body convulsing with pleasure as he finished in Aznarra's mouth.

He had been close. Oh so very close to giving in.

He hated that weakness.

Aznarra Azynna wiped her mouth on a towel and stood up. She laid Salvador down on the bed and laid down next to him. Intimate. Even with a courtesan. The Sersalvonian way.

"Thank you, Azynna," he told her in between his panting, ragged breaths.

The courtesan smiled against his skin. "Why do you always thank me? I am little more than a whore. You pay me. I'm just doing my job."

"Don't sell yourself short. You're no street whore. And nonetheless... you help me. And for that, thank you." He felt more than a little uncomfortable saying that, but he could trust Aznarra. To a point.

She was lowborn like him. Lowest of the low, in fact. She was a child born out of wedlock―a bastard. Her parents had both been common whores, her mother an immigrant from Valyncia. The highborns didn't know that though. To them, she was the runaway daughter of a house that had fallen out of power in the Valyncian Islands. Oh how the highborns loved a story.

Salvador respected Aznarra; she didn't settle to follow the legacy of her parents and fought her way to the top. Courtesans were no common whores; they were not only skilled in the art of sex, but of music, art, and even literature. And they could be very wealthy. Many had even had servants.

She traced circles on his bare chest. "What's wrong with you?"

If only I knew the answer.

"I think I deserve an answer. I had to miss the bathing hour for this, you know."

Salvador sighed. "Well..."

"Is it the daughter of the duchess? Aurelianna?"

He looked at her.

Aznarra shrugged. "I've been servicing you for two years now." Was the only explanation she offered.

Salvador sighed again. "She offered herself to me again. And... I almost caved."

"Why don't you?"

"By the halls, Aznarra. She's highborn. The daughter of Lilliana Florjes no less. No, it will never happen," he snapped.

Aznarra did not press him. It came with the profession.

"Forgive me," Salvador said, feeling a little bad. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"It's okay." Was the only reply.

Amarantha's eyes. He was supposed to be better than that. Aznarra was like him; she understood loss and struggle. There were few people in his life who did. He had to cherish them. Even if they were courtesans.

"No," he insisted. "I'm sorry. I know better."

Aznarra sat up a little, brushing her dark hair out of her face. "Salvador, it's truly―"

He flipped her to where her legs were facing him. He climbed over her body and stared into her eyes. "It's not."

She seemed a little surprised. "Again already?"