Nathaniel

Nerissa stormed out of the room and scrambled down the stairs, avoiding the bodies on the floor and the pungent smell of the dirty place. She ran into the dusky streets of Lowtown, away from the tavern where she had spent the last hour, and took a right turn. She almost tumbled down the steps leading to the docks – blinded by tears and rage, she screamed and cursed, but she went on. Only when she got to the docks, in front of the water, did she allow herself to stop and rest.

She tried to sit down, but the pain was unbearable. Her legs were trembling. Her whole body was pulsating, and for a while she felt that it did not belong to her anymore. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin. The place between her legs felt sticky. She looked around to see if there was someone coming, but the few people that were nearby did not seem to care. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to recover and calm down, and she managed to sit on one of the broad steps. Cautiously, she slipped a hand under her skirt and reached for whatever was trickling down her inner thighs. She winced and withdrew her hand. She looked at her fingers, now covered in a gooey bloody substance, and gagged. She got back on her feet, painfully, picked up her skirt and got in the water. The waves washed her gently, and when she felt composed, she got out of the water and looked for the way back to Hightown.

The stall vendors were collecting their wares, closing their shops till the following day. The silk trader recognized her and bowed, offering her something special he had just received from Tevinter: amethyst violet velvet. Would she take it? It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Nerissa made use of the time the trader took to fold the velvet to think of a way to account for her absence. What would Bryce say? The last thing she wanted was to make him worry about her again.

She paid for the velvet and went back to the estate where they were staying. The manservant opened the door for her and silently acknowledged the state of Nerissa's clothes. Nerissa walked on and reached her room. There, she cleaned herself and changed her clothes. After brushing her hair and putting a smile on her face, she went to Lord Friedrich's study room, where she knew Bryce would be. She knocked on the door and curtsied, her eyes fixed on the floor. Bryce excused himself and accompanied her to her room.

"I have something to tell you, and you won't like it, Dad." Her eyes were glistening, almost feverishly. Bryce sat down next to her, held her hand between his, and nodded encouragingly.

"Can I go with you?"

"To Kirkwall? It will be boring, pup. All trading and money."

"I don't mind, really. I can take Virgil," she kissed his snout and he licked her cheek, "and I could learn about life in the Free Marches. Aren't you intrigued by the political game there?"

"Have you been eavesdropping on my conversations with Fergus?"

"A little," she winked. "And I'm rather fascinated by it. Please?"

"I think you should stay with your mother," Bryce stroked her cheek.

"Why? Fergus and Oriana are staying here! Why must I spend all my time with her? I want to go with you, dad." She gave him a sad look. "Many years ago I asked you to let me stay with you, and you made me go to South Reach with her. It was a mistake. Now I'm asking you to let me go with you. Please."

"What do you mean 'a mistake'? I don't recall-"

"You can't remember what you never learnt."

"Nerissa…"

"Please." She sounded serious. "If you let me go with you, I'll tell you about it."

"That's not fair, pup. If this is serious, I must know."

"Please."

Bryce hesitated. Knowing Eleanor, she would probably insist on going with them. But of course, that was not what his daughter wanted. She needed to get away for some time, and she was letting him know that if he went to Kirkwall on his own, she would probably find a way to make Eleanor's life difficult while he was gone.

"Very well," he grunted. "I'll tell your mother you're coming with me."

Bryce thought about the best way to tell Eleanor the news. A few days later, little Oren caught a mysterious disease and both Oriana and Eleanor were so terribly worried about him that when Bryce told Eleanor that he would be taking Nerissa away to prevent her from falling sick as well, Eleanor quickly agreed.

On the way over to the Free Marches, Nerissa opened her heart and told Bryce what had happened five years before. Bryce listened, asking a few questions every time she deviated from the topic.

"You should have told us, Nerissa. It was nobody's fault, but you two put yourselves at unnecessary risk."

"I thought that the moment we said something, Gwyn would be taken away from us."

"And look what happened later on! It could have been more serious; thank the Maker for Fergus!" Bryce sighed heavily. "Believe me; I understand what you and Gwyn thought at the moment. It's exactly what I felt when Elissa first showed signs of magic. I felt that my father would never understand. But he did, and he showed me what could happen if we kept her at home. Magic is a real danger if there's nobody there to teach the mage how to use it properly. It's a wild thing. You know, I've always remembered my father's words before Elissa was taken away: he said that both of us deserved a chance to live our lives free from that fear, that uncertainty of knowing whether things were normal or right or…" Bryce spoke slowly, hoping that his daughter would understand his words and remember them once and for all. "I tried to be different from my father in many aspects, Nerissa, but he was right about that one. And you could have told me. That's what bothers me the most. How many times have we talked about doing what's right?"

"All the time," Nerissa looked away.

"And there's always a good reason for that. It forces us to think, to assess what our priorities are, to separate what's necessary from-"

"And what about what's good for us? Everybody does what's good for them."

"We are not 'everybody', my child. We are Couslands. You know our history. I'm sure that at the very least, brother Aldous taught you that." He held her hands in his and kissed them. "It's not an easy life, pup. But it's something to live by. And you can always learn to love your duties."

Young Max Friedrich was a minor nobleman who had engaged in business with Highever and Amaranthine frequently in the previous years. He was keen on receiving Bryce and his daughter; it was his chance to return the attentions he had received in Castle Cousland some years before. He had just got married and his wife was a very sweet little woman who was a few years older than Nerissa. At the moment, she was just recovering from a miscarriage, and was glad to have the company of another female in the house.

The first few days flew by. Lady Friedrich took the girl shopping for silks and trinkets, and they were invited over for refreshments to the De Launcets' and the Harimanns'. Nerissa played the lute for her hosts and danced with the girls of the other families. And then Lady Arenberg suggested she and Bryce should definitely go over for dinner in a few days' time.

Nerissa put on her green velvet dress, and decorated her hair with an embrium flower. Bryce offered her his arm and off they went to the Arenbergs'. Nerissa's gait was almost rushed, and Bryce smiled at his daughter's barely contained excitement. He congratulated himself for having listened to her. Every night they had had time to sit together and talk about many things, and he discovered that, in spite of her impetuousness, she was capable of reasoning much better than Fergus when it came to politics and social relations.

His daughter was becoming a woman. The thought of it saddened him a little.

"I am terribly sorry, Teyrn Cousland," Lady Arenberg apologized. "My husband and son were supposed to be back from their practice by now, but they seem to have been delayed."

"Oh, do not worry, Lady Arenberg. We men get distracted easily more often than not, and we keep you ladies waiting for us when you've made wonderful arrangements for our entertainment." Bryce kissed her hand. "I apologize on behalf of my fellow men."

"Oh, the things you say!" Lady Arenberg blushed. Bryce led their hostess into the hall where the other guests were waiting for the banquet to start and before he disappeared into the room, he turned around and winked at his daughter. She shook her head and laughed softly, and she remained behind, admiring the pictures.

She drifted into a side corridor, absorbed in the paintings, when she heard a click behind her, coming from a bookcase. She stepped back and hid around the corner. The bookcase opened like a door. Three men tiptoed into the house, an older man and two younger men behind him.

"Shush!" The older one said. "She'll kill us if she sees us coming in from here."

"Then shut your mouth, dad," the second man giggled. Nerissa thought he sounded a bit like Uncle Leonas when he had one too many. But it was the third man that caught her attention. Dark hair, a well-built body, and an overall roguish look.

The third man stood upright. "There's someone here," he said, and turned around.

Nerissa stuck her back to the wall, hoping that he would not see her.

But he did.

"Who…? Milady Cousland?" He was frowning, trying to put together the image of the girl he had seen some years before with the young woman that was standing in front of him.

"Nathaniel?" Nerissa beamed and her eyes lit up. "It is you!"

"Cousland?" The older man sounded horrified. "Shit, they're here already; your mother is going to kill us after all! My apologies, young lady." He took his son by the shirt and dragged him away.

"I guess I'll see you again at the table, then," Nathaniel smiled at her and dashed away.

"Yes…" Nerissa murmured. His shirt was dirty on the back, and the sleeves were rolled up over the shoulders, giving her a view of his muscled arms. She watched him until he was out of sight.Maker, she thought, he is an attractive fellow. Gwyn's voice sounded in her head.

"Too bad he's a Howe."

He washed his hair, changed his clothes, and went down for dinner. He entered the dining hall and his eyes wandered off, looking for the Couslands among the party of guests. If his father knew, he would probably object. But that was the good thing about being far from home – he had more freedom than he had ever imagined. He found Nerissa talking to Bryce, and walked over to where they were.

"Nathaniel Howe," Bryce said, shaking Nathaniel's hand warmly. "How's Kirkwall treating you?"

"No complaints, milord. The Arenbergs have been very gracious hosts."

"How's the archery going?"

"It's greatly improved. I've also acquired other skills that complement it."

"Oh? I'd like to know more about that," Bryce nodded. "Perhaps we can talk about it later, or maybe we can meet tomorrow?"

"That would please me, milord. Milady," He bowed and returned to his hosts.

"He's not bad," Bryce elbowed Nerissa.

"No. Not bad," she said blankly.

Lady Arenberg begged Nerissa to play the lute and sing for them, but Nerissa refused to play unless someone else sang. Lady Friedrich sang a ballad and Nerissa accompanied her. Nathaniel stood at the back by the fireplace, watching her. There was a certain joy in her face while she was playing, her left hand running up and down the neck of the instrument; her mouth half-opened in a smile, her head cocked towards the left, listening to the chords very closely. The body of the lute lay over her thighs, and the fingers of her right hand stroked the strings on its belly skillfully, swiftly, caressing and Maker what was he thinking. She was just a girl.

He rushed his drink, shook his head and realized that the song was finished. He clapped politely, and before the women left the room, he approached her.

"Well played, milady. I can see that your fingers have become quite dexterous."

"That they have," she chuckled.

"Er… I didn't mean…" Why was he blushing? His comment had not had a hidden intention, had it?

"Thank you, Nathaniel," she lowered her eyes and gave him a half-smile that made him quiver. She turned around and left him standing there, alone and confused.

His meeting with Bryce was brief. Bryce asked a couple of questions about his social life as well as his combat training.

"A rogue, eh? A chip off the old block," he said, laughing.

"I'm afraid my father will be disappointed. He's always wanted me to become a warrior like your son."

"We can't always decide for our children. We can only hope they know what's best for them. Fergus has always been one for managing men and coming up with strategies. Very much like my wife," Bryce said, wrinkling his nose.

"What about your other children?"

Bryce sighed and leaned back on his chair. He looked at Nathaniel, sizing him up. Nathaniel hid his face behind the goblet he had been nursing for some time now.

"Nerissa needs to know how to defend herself. This is what I've gathered from my time with her. We live in times of peace, but you never know what's waiting for you round the corner. We'll be staying in Kirkwall two more weeks. Do you think you could make her understand this?"

"I'm… sorry?"

"Unless I'm taking up too much of your time, I'd like you to teach her to defend herself."

"C-certainly," Nathaniel gulped the rest of the drink. "It's only two weeks, after all."

"My father's idea," Nerissa repeated.

"Yes. And I agreed, of course. I'd like to think that my sister will one day do the same." Nathaniel said.

"Very well," she nodded. "When shall we start?"

"We can do it right now," he replied. Had he sounded too eager? "Er… Whenever you are ready, milady."

Nerissa laughed. "I was going to walk my dog around Lowtown. Would you mind accompanying me?"

"Not at all," he said, trying to relax. Come on, she's just a girl. And she's not even beautiful. But she was a woman. No, she's just a girl. But her body had changed.

She was wearing one of those robes that women wore in Kirkwall, with a hood that gave a veiled look of the face of the wearer. He offered her his arm, but she refused it.

"It's impossible to do that when Virgil is around," she giggled.

The dog did not like him.

He had never been very lucky with animals. Cats despised him. Dogs barked at him and he had never been good at interpreting whether they wanted to play or were genuinely mad at him. As a consequence, he had some scars on the back of the leg and on his right forearm.

"He is a little territorial," Nerissa explained. "But he's a very nice dog. Isn't that right, Vee?" She knelt down and scratched the dog's belly. The dog was completely entranced by his mistress, who was now running her fingernails over his belly in circles. Nathaniel looked away, trying to suppress any feelings that the action might have aroused.

They spent the afternoon at the Lowtown bazaar. He discovered that she was not afraid of speaking her mind, and she obviously loved her older brother. She spoke warmly of her family, and she had a soft spot for her little nephew. He helped her choose some treats to take him, now that they had received news that the boy was slowly recovering.

"I'm glad to see that you're doing what you love," she said, as they walked down the steps that took them to the docks.

"I don't know if this is what I love. I like to keep my options open."

"At least you have options," she pointed out.

"Well, yes. I suppose it's different for women," he admitted.

When he walked her home, she thanked him and said, "It's been nice to have you around. It's like having Fergus. I miss him. Andraste's ass, if you ever meet him, don't tell him I said that. And don't mention the mild swearing either. My mother would kill me."

"I won't," he laughed. So she sees me like a big brother. Great, he thought bitterly.

Still, as he walked back to the Arenbergs', he felt better about it. Somehow, her words made him feel at ease, once again.

For the next ten days, he showed her how to defend herself against attacks from behind, and how to handle the dagger so that she would avoid cutting herself with it; how to stand and disarm an opponent, and how to fall properly, in case she was escaping from someone. She was a fast learner, but she lacked discipline, so he quickly overpowered her. Sometimes he found her proximity disturbing, the scent of embrium and honeysuckle emanating from the back of her neck whenever he stood behind her. Her fingers worked the string of the bow much better than before, but she said that she felt uncomfortable using that weapon, so they did not focus on that. They roamed around the city and talked and laughed. They were kindred spirits. He could feel that she craved freedom more than anything else. She thought that he was a sweet boy, in spite of the rugged appearance, and he smiled with his eyes.

"Your eyes!" Nerissa exclaimed one day that he had managed to pin her against a wall.

"What's wrong with them?" Nathaniel said, wishing she would look away.

"They look like a cloudy sky. It's a beautiful colour," she said gently.

"Th-Thank y-," he began to say, when he felt the dagger ready to sink between his ribs. She swiftly escaped under his arm, took the knife from his cinch, and laughed. She had outmaneuvered him.

"More flies with honey, eh?" Nathaniel grunted, feeling like a fool.

"Am I supposed to be sweet, sweet honey, then?" Her voice was somewhat teasing. Here we go again, he thought. He felt his insides melting.

"Yes… No. I mean," he cleared his throat, "because that would make me the fly."

She walked up to him and stood on the tip of her toes. "Not unless I was planning to catch you," she whispered in his ear.

Don't do it, said a voice in his head. She's a girl. She's a friend, and she trusts you. He felt her hot breath on his neck. He closed his eyes and felt a torrent of blood rushing through his body. In one swift, sudden movement, he held her face in his hands and kissed her.

He opened his eyes and saw that she was staring at him, very briefly, before closing her own eyes. He passed his right arm around her waist and drew her closer to him, his left hand on the back of her head. Their mouths moved in perfect synchrony, their lips locked together. His left hand moved slowly down her back, and Nerissa gasped against his mouth, breaking the spell.

Nathaniel pushed her away, walking in circles, rubbing his face. What had he done? She was just a girl.

That night, neither of them was able to get some decent sleep. Nerissa's restless dreams had his face in them; his eyes, his raspy voice, his strong hands...

Nathaniel did what he had never done before: he went to the tavern and drank until he passed out.

They had arranged to meet at the docks beforehand. Nerissa was not sure if he would show up, considering that the previous afternoon he had sent her home alone. Her body ached, as if it had been awakened. She found herself aroused by the mere act of getting dressed, still feeling Nathaniel's hands on her body. She promised herself that she would not do embarrassing things. That would get both of them in trouble.

She left the house and strode towards the docks. There was no sign of him. She walked about for a while, but tried to stay close to where the people were. She sat on the broad steps leading into the green sea and looked on. There was a building in a small island, not far from the shore. That had to be The Gallows. She had heard the people of the city talking about the Circle and she had learnt that they could visit their mage relatives. If only Gwyn was there, instead of Kinloch Hold.

A long time went by. He had not come. She felt disappointed and frustrated. But maybe that was what her father considered 'doing what must be done' – Nathaniel had obviously thought about it and decided that meeting her was not right. She got back on her feet and walked towards the main exit of the docks.

She heard a commotion to her left. Someone was fighting in the alley. Her feet carried her towards the noise without giving her time to consider if it was the wisest thing to do. Only when she saw the bodies on the floor did she think about how careless she was.

There was a small group of three men left. Nathaniel was trying to find an opening to raise his longbow, but the men were fast. And then he heard her. "Leave him alone!" Her voice was quivering, but her hands were not. She had drawn her shortbow and was now tensing up. One of the men sniggered.

"Oh? And what will you do, doll?"

"I'm not a doll," she muttered and fired. The streaking arrow hit him in the chest, staggering him backwards. Nathaniel took advantage of the confusion and killed off the wounded man. One of the others leapt over Nathaniel, slashing the outer side of his arm before Nerissa had time to shoot him on the back of the neck. The last one, clearly outnumbered, managed to escape.

Nathaniel was exhausted. He had killed seven other men before she had found him, and seeing her there was not what he had expected. He fell on his knees and she ran towards him, calling his name before he blacked out.

When he came to, there was a guard looming over him. "You were lucky, son," the man said. "One can't be too careful around these gangs."

"Where's the girl?" Nathaniel's mouth felt sticky.

"I'm here," she answered, visibly shaken. Nathaniel remembered that she had shot two of the men, and that had probably been her first time. "We have to clean up that wound, though," she said, pointing to the cut on his forearm.

He shook his head. "I'm fine," he said, and got back on his feet.

"Nonsense," she said. "Let's go back to the Arenbergs'."

"I'm… not staying with them at the moment," he said. "I'm at the Hanged Man."

"What's that?"

"A tavern in Lowtown."

"Well then," she said firmly, "that's where we're going."

Every time he opened his mouth to complain, she shushed him. He showed her how to clean the wound, and she tore up some frills from her dress in order to make bandages. He took a seat, his head spinning for some unknown reason.

"You'll need to find clean ones tomorrow," she said.

"I know," he grunted. "And thank you, but you shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you," she said, looking round the room he had rented.

"The Arenbergs' are going through a difficult time," he explained delicately. "It's happened before. I'll stay here for a couple of days, and when they're better, Lord Arenberg will send for me."

She finished wrapping the bandages around his arm and tied them tightly. Nathaniel grunted.

"Too tight?"

"No, it's fine. It's better that way," he said, and watched her. She was holding his forearm in her pretty hands. She kissed the area that had been cut, and turned the arm gently.

"Is this where the dog bit you?" Her voice was soft.

"Please, don't," he pleaded, a lump forming in his throat.

She passed her fingers over the scars, tracing them with a certain softness that was unfamiliar to him. Her lips kissed the scars tenderly, sending shivers up his spine. He felt his strength and his resistance ebbing off when she looked up at him, still kissing his arm. He drew his arm away from her and looked at her angrily.

She found his mouth instead, and she was not surprised when he parted his lips and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth. Her own tongue reacted naturally and played with the tip of his. His hands were drawing her towards him, and she found herself sitting on his lap, his fingers all over her, playing with her hair, running down her neck, briefly brushing against her breasts. She gasped and pulled her mouth away, but this time he did not let her go. He licked her lips and moved down towards a soft spot on her neck, softly sucking and kissing, feeling the reactions that his hips were having every time she squirmed, as if it was the first time he had felt them.

He was enjoying it. She knew he was. His abandonment was complete, and his face looked strong and vulnerable at the same time. Nerissa's body was vibrating – every time he caressed her breasts, her whole body shook. He smiled. He could feel her every move. She was rocking softly against his hips, and for a moment Nathaniel thought that he was going to lose his mind if she went on moving like that. He wanted to stop her, but his hands, instead of pushing her away gently, found the way between her legs. She was kissing him at the moment and he caught her by surprise. She moaned and put her own hand over the throbbing bulge in his pants, making him groan and bite her. He kissed her deeply one more time and pushed her back.

They were breathless. Her face looked unusually sensual, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. Nathaniel panted and stood up, walking away from her, keeping his distance. He opened the door of the room and looked away.

"Are you…?" Nerissa was confused.

"I'm asking you to leave."

"But I thought-"

"Please. Go. Now."

She had managed to contain her tears until she got to her room. Virgil was waiting for her, and she sat on the floor by his side. He licked her face and put a paw on her hand, cocking his head sideways. She hugged him and sobbed.

"We're leaving tomorrow," Bryce said after lunch. Nerissa nodded and felt relieved. One more day there and she would lose her mind.

She wondered why she was standing outside the Hanged Man once more. He had pushed her away twice. But he had been nice to her, and she had gone there to say goodbye. She took a deep breath and entered the tavern.

The music was cheerful, as usual. The air, however, felt stale and smelled of ale. Some people were gathered around a young dwarf, who seemed to be telling stories that made them laugh and shout in awe. Some others were musing, confiding their problems to the bartender, and even ogling the barmaids.

And there was Nathaniel, holding a glass, sitting alone at the back of the main room.

"We're leaving tomorrow," she said. He took a sip of his glass without looking at her.

"I just… I just wanted to say goodbye," she said more loudly. He rubbed his fingers against the rim of the glass, still looking down.

She frowned. He was being childish. She turned around to leave and he caught her by the hand. He muttered something.

"I can't hear you," she said impatiently. His grip tightened.

He had had to finish by himself what she had started. When he was done, he hated her for that. He felt dirty in more than one sense. He had never thought of himself as 'pure', but he had never thought much of his body and its needs. And she had come along, with her green eyes and her scent of flowers, her soft skin and her open mouth, her eager fingers and her small breasts, and she had not been out of his mind for a minute.

And that was terribly wrong. Her father had asked him to help her defend herself, and instead, he had actively thought of ways to defile her. She was much younger than he was. He did not want her to have any sort of expectations. He was not ready to settle down. In the eyes of his father, he was not even a man.

And what would his father say? Some years ago, after the Couslands had departed, his father had told him what kind of people they were – how they looked down on Amaranthine, and how they always thought themselves better than their peers, switching allegiances and consorting with Orlesians and Antivans. But Nathaniel was confused. Nerissa had actually shown him nothing but kindness. And now Bryce had taken the time to talk to him, and he had entrusted his daughter's safety to him. And he had failed. Surely they could not be that bad.

His father had asked two things of him; that he became a skilled warrior, and that he did not go whoring around, making bastards that would keep him back from his destiny. But Nerissa was not a whore. She was a sweet girl. A girl that was too young for him. But, in the eyes of his father, she was something worse than a whore. She was a Cousland.

For a moment, he thought of talking to Bryce about it. But then what? His father would deem him a traitor, and Bryce would not want a Howe near his daughter. More than one life would be ruined, just because of a stupid infatuation. She was not even beautiful. She was just a stupid Cousland.

The image of her appeared in front of him. "We're leaving tomorrow," she said. He took a sip of whiskey and tried to shut his ears to the sound of her voice, but he only managed to make her talk again. "I just… I just wanted to say goodbye." She had raised her voice, that sultry voice of hers. Damn her. His fingers grew restless, caressing the rim of the glass, imagining she was the glass. Damned girl.

He could not go on like that. Just as she was turning to leave, he grabbed her by the hand. Some words left his mouth and died soon after.

"I can't hear you," she said, sounding a little irritated. His fingers tightened around her wrist, slipping down towards her fingers.

"Do you want to go the whole way?" he growled.

They climbed the steps that led to the room he was renting – hand in hand, their hearts beating faster than ever before. As soon as the door was closed, he kissed her with unrestrained passion and heat, his fingers working to untie the strings of her dress. She kissed him repeatedly, a smile on her lips. The dress was quickly unfastened, and he moved it out of the way even faster, leaving her young body exposed. He rubbed his hands against her body, groping her buttocks and her breasts, sliding a hand between her legs and his tongue into her mouth, moving both rhythmically at the same time. When he felt she was ready, he took her by the waist, his strong arms lifting her up, and she parted her legs, pushing her hips instinctively against his. He pinned her against the door, holding her with his right arm, while the fingers in his left hand traced her lips.

She caught his thumb between her lips and licked the tip of it. The sight of the tongue turned him on, and he kissed her deeply, sliding his fingers down her side, then across her belly and up her chest, tracing along the inside of a breast, massaging her right nipple with his wet thumb. She gasped and dug her fingernails on his back. His teeth sank in the flesh of her neck – she was soft and warm, and she was fragile: everything he did made her tremble.

Her body felt hot and cold at the same time, and she did not know what was expected of her. She remembered that the last time she had touched him between his legs, and he had had a violent reaction. Would he turn her away again? Had she hurt him? She had so many questions and nobody to answer them, so she did what she felt like doing. Her dexterous fingers slipped into his pants, looking for whatever was moving in there. She only knew one thing: whatever it was, her body wanted to feel it inside.

Nathaniel groaned when she started stroking him. Why, he wondered, why are we doing this? This was not right. She was just a girl. The arching of her back and her moaning made him throw her onto the bed. He pulled down his pants and Nerissa saw for the first time what it was that had been pressing against her. She reached out to touch it, but Nathaniel moved her hand away and lay on his right arm by her side. She took his hand and kissed his palm, licking her way towards the fingertips. He kissed her shoulder and ran his left hand over her breasts, cupping the left one and kissing it before sliding his hand downwards, squeezing her thigh. Nerissa squirmed and moved her leg aside. He moved her undergarments out of the way and got between her legs.

Don't do it, a voice was saying. You can hurt her. She might be with child because of this. Think of your father. Think of her father. The voices did not leave him alone. He closed his eyes and for a moment, he hesitated. He was not sure whether he would be able to stop at this point.

Nerissa interpreted the look in his face only partially. She thought that he was afraid of hurting her. But she did not care. She caressed his cheek and wrapped her legs around him, raising her hips to meet his. She bent her knees and dug her heels on his lower back, causing him to move into her.

"No!" he shouted, but it was too late: he could feel her flesh around him, pulsating, drawing him in. He tried to pull away, but she pushed him back inside, and he closed his eyes, thinking of nothing but her body. He covered her moaning with kisses, and moved his hips faster and deeper, as she arched her back and bit her own lips. He leaned down to lick her neck and bite it. Their breathing got heavier. Their hips moved against and away, until her body trembled and his body found the release he had been looking for.

Nathaniel moved aside, still panting. Nerissa's chest was moving up and down, still convulsing after everything was over. There was a dreamy smile on her face, and Nathaniel hated himself for it. Now that he had regained his mind, a sudden realization clung onto him like a leech. What if…? No, it was not possible. But still, now that she was closer to being next in line, what if…? He refused to think about it. He stood up and pulled up his pants, turning his back on her.

"That… That was…" Her voice was almost cheerful. "I'd never imagined…"

"That was nothing," he said, closing his eyes.

"What?"

He took a deep breath and turned around to face her.

"I said that it was nothing. It didn't mean anything to me, and it shouldn't mean anything to you either."

Nerissa stared at him. "You don't mean that…" she whispered.

"I do. You're just a little girl. What did you think this was, love?" He snorted. "Love. What a ridiculous conception."

"No…" Nerissa shook her head. "No, you don't mean that."

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close to his face. "Oh, but I do mean that. Now get dressed and leave. After all, you'd only come to say your goodbyes, hadn't you?"

She started to feel sick. She picked up her dress and put it on quickly. He was looking away, his face turned to the wall. Her heart felt weary, but even if she was on the verge of tears, she managed to turn around and shout, "You're an ass, Nathaniel Howe!" and she slammed the door behind her.

He breathed out slowly, hoping that she had believed him. It was the best for the two of them.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered, and went down to pick up a bottle of whiskey. He needed something to forget what had just happened.

Nerissa talked, and Bryce listened patiently. The only thing he was sure of was that she blamed herself for seducing Nathaniel, and that she had actually carried out the seduction. She told him about the sticky substance she had found between her legs, and Bryce tried to explain to her what that was. He told her about the possible consequences of her actions and she cried. She had not thought about it.

Bryce waited until Nerissa fell asleep before he left the estate.

It was late when Nathaniel tottered back to his room. The moment he went in, he felt that something was off.

The punch hit him square in the jaw and he stumbled against the bed, falling down. He could barely see in the dark, but he would recognize that voice anywhere.

"I won't have you killed just because my daughter has assumed the responsibility of her actions. If you're half the man I thought you were, you will stay away from her. Is that clear?"

Nathaniel nodded. He heard the door closing and he sank into a dreamless sleep.

"My little girl!" Eleanor exclaimed as soon as they got off the ship. Nerissa ran towards her mother and hugged her. "Look at you! You've grown up so much in these few weeks! Oh, I missed you so much!"

Nerissa smiled at her mother sweetly, and Bryce embraced the two women, holding them close to him.

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Next Chapter: Anders