“Leandros refused the deity. Time and time again. She was livid, so when she returned one day to discover Leandros’s love with him at his home, she fell into a rage. They were killed, both of them.”
I look over at Charlie, his face difficult to make out in the dark. His voice, however, is steeped in such strong melancholy that I bring his hand to my lips, kissing the back of it gently in hopes of soothing his distress.
He sucks in a small, shuddering breath. “Of all the battles he faced, all the adversaries and trials and monsters, not a single one could fell him. Not a one except for love.”
“Charlie. My dear.”
“I know it’s sad. Terribly sad. But that sword reminds me of how powerful love can be. It’s a weapon far greater than any steel. And no one, not even a vengeful god, can take it away.”
The pain in my chest at Charlie’s words is visceral, an ache that has me clutching his hand tight. “And what of our love, dear heart?”
Charlie’s head turns my way, his eyes specks of light in the dark. “It will outlast all the stars, Arthur. Every last one of them.”
When Charlie and I wake, we’re in the observatory still. The window is open, sun streaming into the room but the air around us cool. Charlie lets out a groan before tucking his face against my chest.
“Oh Lord, Arthur. What have we done?”
I laugh quietly, even as my back twinges. “You, my love, have youth on your side. I fear I may be stiff all day.”
Proving my point about his youthfulness, Charlie rolls swiftly to his knees and holds out his hands. His hair is disheveled, falling from its pins, but there’s a soft smile on his face that has my heart tripping over itself as I accept his aid in standing.
I only wince some. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”
Charlie rubs a hand over my lower back, trying to soothe the ache away. “Come. Let’s set ourselves to rights.”
After closing the window, Charlie and I make our way down to the second floor, taking our turns on both the toilet and at the sink. Charlie pins his hair in front of the vanity in our chamber as I re-dress, my clothes from yesterday wrinkled after their time on the floor.
“I wonder what Ella will have prepared for breakfast,” I say, tucking my shirt beneath my trousers. “I would happily clean the dishes again in exchange for some apple tart.”
Charlie remains quiet, not answering, so I turn his way.
“Charlie?”
“Arthur… What is this?”
The box I placed on the vanity yesterday is open now, the contents held in Charlie’s hand.Ah. I’d forgotten about it in Charlie’s excitement over his telescope arriving.
“That,” I say slowly, heading his way, “is a fake cock.”
His eyes swing to me, wide. The cock is made from ivory, surprisingly lifelike in its appearance yet smooth to the touch. At the base is a set of straps I had specially commissioned.
“These,” I explain to Charlie, running my fingers over the straps, “would go around your hips. You’d wear it, my dear, if that is something you’d have interest in trying.”
His chest rises and falls as he looks at the smooth ivory, his thumb close to the flared head. I can’t yet gauge his opinion, but he hasn’t tossed it away.
“It’s…erect. Would that not draw attention?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “It’s for intercourse, my love.”
His eyes widen further, an aborted sound leaving his lips. “I would use it with you?”
“If you’d like,” I tell him, running my finger along the ivory as Charlie swallows. “Do you wish to try it?”
His voice comes out at a whisper. “Will it not hurt?”
“I don’t quite know,” I tell him truthfully. “I have…oil…that was suggested for easing the way.”
“Arthur…”
