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The page who steps through the door seems completely unperturbed to see Perl and Kerik so intimate in their bed. Kerik is struck for a moment, with how impossible it would be to lie in bed like this with a man, in Azuria, both entwined and simply bid a page enter the room.

But the page simply leaves a piece of parchment and a familiar looking wooden box on the table and leaves without a word.

When she is gone Perl climbs from the bed and crosses the room to pick up the parchment. Kerik watches him. Perl had changed his leather outfit for a sleeping shirt the night before and he looks sweet in it, white linen against his delicate skin. Kerik looks at Perl’s pale thighs. He’s delicate as a fawn. “So soon?” Kerik says. “But I have only just completed the second test. What are they going to do to me next?” Kerik hopes that whatever it is there will be time for Perl to come back to bed. “Flay off all my skin and roll me in salt?”

Perl laughs. A true laugh, breaking his face. “Don’t give them ideas.” He walks back to the bed. “Actually it seems Exeinil really was pleased with your performance at the last test. She is being generous. Moving swiftly to the third test and this one will be easier. It is simply service.”

Kerik sits up. The silk and furs of the bed fall down, pooling at his waist and he enjoys the way the sight of his upper body lights Perl’s eyes. “What does that involve?”

“I suppose there will be salt. But no flaying. You will simply have to serve me at a formal banquet. A rare occasion that will involve mortal food. There will be some protocols in place, but you can learn them.”

“So no torture?” Kerik slips an arm around Perl’s waist, pulling him close.

“No torture.”

“In that case, I have an idea. It seems wrong that I must suffer everything for these tests of devotion, especially when you are the one with such a talent for suffering.”

Perl’s pale cheeks blush a sweet pink as he says, “Kerik, please.”

“It is the truth, Shame of the Ice Fae. We both know that. But let me tell you my idea. I suggest a trade. Whatever the Ice Court ask of me, you will do. For me. In this chamber.”

Kerik feels Perl go tense in his arms, but it is not all aversion. His breathing hitches in a very particular way. Kerik pulls him closer, onto his lap, and nuzzles at his scarred neck.

But after a moment Perl pulls back. “Are you suggesting you would enjoy making me spend half the night freezing to death in an ice cell?”

“I would enjoy a little suffering from you at my command, I don’t deny it. And so would you.” He grins. “But not that. That test is done.” Kerik pauses. “Although it would have been sweet to see you wearing that ball in your mouth, only able to make humiliating bird calls whenever you wanted to interrupt me.” He pauses, enjoying how that has made Perl shiver. “But, no, let us blend pleasure with what we must do now. You say this event involves some elaborate protocol. You should demonstrate these protocols for me. For my delight.” Kerik’s voice is heavy as he finishes, feeling his arousal grow at the thought of what he is asking for. This perfect creature, humbled before him.

“Oh,” Perl says, as if understanding is only now dawning. Kerik doubts it truly took Perl this long to realise what he was suggesting, unless his mind was deeply fogged with lust. But Perl shakes his head. “We can’t.”

“I’m not giving you a choice, Perlash-zeren-ai. If I am to kneel for you in public, I want you to kneel before me in private. Whatever I must take for them, pain, shame, you will take it for me.”

Perl looks at Kerik thoughtfully, “It might not be possible to replicate everything.”

Kerik smiles at Perl’s acquiescence. “I’m sure we can find a way, faerie.”

“So you wish me to do this now?”

“I wish you to do it with a more deferent attitude than that.”

“I apologise, Master,” Perl says in a tone that is no more deferent than before.

Clearly, Perl needs a firmer command, so Kerik grabs him hard by the jaw. Perl gasps and his hips jerk unmistakably, which sends an answering bolt of lust through Kerik’s body. “What,” Kerik says in a low growl, “does the next test involve, thrall?”

He doesn’t loosen his grip on Perl’s jaw, forcing him to answer through it. “Service is a test of obedience,” he manages. “You will need to be submissive and obedient to me. And there will be certain positions you will be required to adopt flawlessly on command.”

“Then hadn’t you better show them to me?" Kerik pulls his hand away and leans back.

“I suppose.” Perl stands from Kerik’s lap. He’s still acting as if this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but he has a cock so roused it is jutting out, displayed in the fall of the sleeping shirt.

He positions himself standing. “So, most simply and obviously there is kneeling. Which I am sure you think you do well, but your form could be better. Let me show you what I mean.”

Before he can lower himself to the floor, Kerik says, “A moment.”

Perl looks at him. “What else, Master?”

“I think you ought to wear the outfit.”

“The outfit?”