This chapter gets a PG-13 warning for kinda sorta sexual content.

Paladin108

Sophia pursed her lips, mustered her courage, and finally knocked on Citrine's door. She couldn't decide if she hoped for her summons to be heard or ignored. All she knew for certain was that she felt increasingly foolish and her arm and shoulder ached from the weight of a leather-bound book the size of Fidelio.

Impatiently she glanced back and noticed a light in Erik's bedroom window. She imagined him romantically jotting down notes and arranging the most brilliant piece of music the world had ever heard—and it had blossomed from their kiss.

Her fantasy promptly ended. Citrine opened the door and didn't look at all surprised to see Sophia standing before her, still dressed from the night before.

"Can't reach the buttons?"

"No. Well, yes, but that's not why I'm here."

Citrine had already settled her gaze upon the enormous tome. "A bedtime story?"

Sophia glowered. "No. May I come in before someone hears us?"

Without further questioning, Citrine motioned for Sophia to come inside. "You realize I had exactly one more hour to sleep before you paid a visit."

"No one has ever told you to start at four in the morning. It's your own doing," Sophia replied.

Citrine giggled and slid into a shabby chair. It looked like a piece of furniture overused, possibly removed from the main house and passed down to the servants. Over its back was an ivory lace throw, a purely decorative item that looked like a wedding gift.

"Well, to what do I owe the honor of your late night visit?"

Lips tightly pursed once more, Sophia opened the book on her lap to a page she'd marked with a scrap of cloth and pointed to a drawing.

"Is that what it really looks like?" she asked, her face turning a dozen shades of red.

"I beg your pardon?"

Sophia stared at her a moment. "This." She couldn't bring herself to say the name, merely to point.

"I can't read it. It's upside down."

She turned the book around for Citrine to view the opened pages.

"Ah, I don't have my glasses on. Read it for me."

"The glans…" This was truly impossible. She took a breath, unsure why it embarrassed her so much. "The glans penis." It was then that she blinked and frowned. "Citrine, you don't wear glasses."

"No, I don't," she answered, distracted by the black and white sketches. "Now I must ask where you obtained this book. Surely not from Philippe's collection."

"Yes, it was on the shelf. Father must have purchased it when Mother was ill. Or perhaps the family physician gave it to him. It's all very educational and informational and…medical."

For the first time Citrine seemed uneasy, yet she continued to study the image with unabashed interest. "You're right. This is…informative."

"Is this…a sin, do you think?"

"Hmm. Possibly. Why are you looking at these pictures?"

"Because I want to know what it looks like." She wanted to cover her face with her hands and hide. The thought passed through her mind that perhaps she was the only woman in the world who was completely unfamiliar with the male anatomy.

Citrine nodded but didn't say much for several minutes. When she did at last look at Sophia, she smiled. "For the strict purpose of education? No, I don't believe it's a sin."

Sophia sighed in relief. "Good, because otherwise I've been sinning for well over an hour."

Citrine threw back her head and laughed. "You are too much, Sophia. Truly."

"Coming from you, I don't know whether that's a compliment or not."

"Oh, it is." She looked away from the book and folded her hands. "Now, how much of it did you memorize?"

Again Sophia blushed. "I didn't—"

"I would have. Now be honest with me, Sophia. It's the least you can do after you woke me at this hour."

Sophia took a breath. "Well, I didn't want to memorize all of it because I wasn't sure if this sort of thing….oh, I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Now ask me."

"Does it vary from man to man?"

Now it was Citrine's turn to blush. "I haven't seen that many, Sophia."

It occurred to her that she may have insulted her closest female friend, which wasn't her intention. She put her hands out and promptly dropped the book on the floor. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended." She smiled. "I'm amused."

"Well…is that what they all look like? Or do you know?"

"The two that I have seen, yes. They both looked like that."

"Oh."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, no, I just expected…"

"Expected what?"

"Something more."

"Like what? A puzzle?"

Sophia covered her mouth and giggled. "Well, I do vaguely remembering bathing in a tub with Philippe when we were quite young."

Citrine wrinkled her nose. "I'd prefer not to bring your brother into this particular conversation." Her eyes narrowed, her visage filled with mischief. "Who would you rather bring into this conversation? A certain Monsieur Belmont?"

Sophia groaned. "What would he think if he knew we were awake in the middle of the night looking at these pictures?"

"He would probably want to turn the page and look at those pictures."

"You're right." Sophia thumbed through the book. "Citrine, I can tell you honestly that I never, ever would have thought it looked like that."

"What were you expecting?"

"More…decoration."

Again Citrine giggled. "Yes, it's sort of…I'm not sure. But you're right, it is lacking decoration—even though it has more decoration than you or I have."

"True." Now that she'd finally been able to ask her questions, she was becoming sleepy—but that didn't quell her curiosity. "But how does it…" She bit her lip and stared at the image. "Fit."

"Oh, well that's just a picture of maleness in its inactive state."

Sophia couldn't stop herself from giggling like a school girl. "Inactive state? What does that mean?"

"It looks a little different when a man is aroused."

She knew this, but she didn't want to admit to seeing a very obvious outline of active maleness, mostly because she didn't want to explain her evening with Erik. It wasn't that she feared Citrine would gossip, but she'd arrived in an unfamiliar and overwhelming place in her life, one filled with the unknown—and the tantalizing.

"It's harder, isn't it?" she asked innocently.

Citrine nodded.

Sophia squeezed her thighs together at the very thought of something hard pressing her there. "Oh, I think I might be sick now."

"Why?" Citrine asked, her brow furrowed.

"That sounds absolutely dreadful and terrifying and…yet still very interesting. I think I must be mad."

"Not at all. You're merely human."

"I'm not sure I want to be human."

"Sophia, if I haven't told you this before, I'll tell you now. I just adore you. There should be more people like you in the world." Citrine smiled and closed the book, her usual warm smile directed at Sophia. "I'll make some tea. Let's talk for a while."

"I'd like that." She stood and prepared to follow Citrine, but her host had already skittered into the kitchen. She padded across the room and took a quick peek out the front window. Erik was still awake. She wondered—and blushed—at the thought of his active maleness.