By Chance Met by Eresse Page B

encounters, including the patronage of prostitutes, were strictly forbidden until one reached thirty summers, the age of consent. The only exceptions to this rule were with regards to wedlock and lawful concubinage. As for gaming and backstreet sports, one had to wait until the thirty-fifth year and attain one’s majority first in order to be able to indulge in either.
    Of course, these laws were mostly observed among Deira of respectable families and unsullied names. Enforcing said laws among the slum dwellers was difficult to put it mildly. For the lowest class, engagement in illicit activity often started in childhood.
    Naeth did not stick his nose up at his peers’ notions of entertainment, but neither did he care to waste his time or precious allowance on such unproductive pastimes. And a further waste it would be if he had to keep company with the likes of Semrel.
    The Arthannas had been correct about the prejudice underlying the social structure of school life. That was not to say that all the True Bloods at the Academy behaved as execrably as Semrel any more than it was right to assert that every Half Blood was subjected to discrimination by their enyran counterparts. But the bigoted few—Naeth had quickly discovered they were the minority—tended to be outspoken and determined to let their displeasure and supposed superiority be known. And when they did, it was unpleasant all around.
    Running his hand through his nape-length hair, he grudgingly admitted not for the last time that his benefactors had been right. Looking like a True Blood had spared him quite a lot of bother. Being Reijir’s ward, on the other hand, was a mixed blessing.
    Most of his enyran schoolmates chose to be civil with him at the very least.
    However, there were a few who let envy of others’ improved fortunes or disdain for those of lower station get the better of good sense. As for himself, he could not deny how blessed he’d been to come under a Herun’s patronage, and he refused to let others spoil his enjoyment of his good fortune.

As soon as he arrived at the hall, he searched for Reijir. The place was full for a midweek afternoon, and numerous Deira were engaged in all manner of sparring, ranging from sword and knife play to wrestling and fisticuffs. The great chamber resounded with the crash and clang of metal against metal and the smack and thud of flesh against flesh or solid wooden floor.
    Nonetheless, Naeth quickly spotted Reijir for he occupied a space virtually in the middle of the huge chamber. The Herun was engaged in hand-to-hand fighting against a brawny aristocrat some years his junior. They had drawn a sizable audience whose lusty cheers echoed noisily in the cavernous space.
    Naeth appreciatively gawked at his guardian for several minutes, awed as always by Reijir’s martial grace and disciplined movements. But feelings other than mere fascination came into play as the Herun’s finely hewn body and sleekly muscled limbs were displayed to spectacular effect in a sleeveless shirt and snug long breeches. Naeth did his best to ignore the sensations Reijir aroused in him with nigh maddening regularity.
    He determinedly forced his attention elsewhere and scanned the hall for Keiran. He
    saw him a little distance away, pitting his sword against a taller Deir.
    How young he looked, Naeth thought. Indeed it was not unusual for new
    acquaintances to mistake Keiran for the younger Arthanna brother, a notion reinforced by the fact that it was Reijir who ruled Ilmaren. Perhaps the faint effeminacy of his features softened them such that he did not seem to age at all. Naeth watched Keiran deftly force his opponent to earnestly defend himself.
    With a flourish that was almost theatrical were it not blatantly lethal, Keiran disarmed his sparring partner, giving the lie to the notion that his smaller stature and appearance of dubious masculinity barred him from being a skilled warrior. He smirked at his erstwhile opponent, then