Author: Alessandra Hazard
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alessandra-hazard/page,5,561046-princes_master.html
He didn’t know why he felt so floored. Every initiate knew that Masters of the Order weren’t actually monks, as the rest of the planet thought of them. After all, pleasure servants existed in Hronthar for a reason. But Eridan still couldn’t wrap his mind around Master Idhron doing something as undignified and emotional as having sex. It just seemed… wrong.
“Why would you even want to be a pleasure servant?” Eridan said, and then flushed. “No offense.”
Javier shrugged. “None taken. But why wouldn’t I want to be one? It’s a good job, and mostly pleasant.” He rolled his silver-gray eyes. “Unless you’re stupid enough to fall in love with your employer. Then it obviously sucks when they cast you aside for a shiny new toy, which always happens eventually.”
Eridan listened to him talk about sex and love with a very surreal feeling. He wasn’t as innocent as Javier thought—everyone in the Initiates’ Hall had at least some idea about sex—but he still couldn’t imagine offering his body for a living. Even if the apprentice thing didn’t work out and he was transferred to the servicing department of the Order, Eridan would have never chosen being a pleasure servant as his profession. He could work in the security department, as a memory-wiping specialist—he was decent enough at erasing memories. Or maybe in the administrative department. There were always Masters in need of stewards to manage their off-world estates.
But a pleasure servant? Something about it turned Eridan’s stomach, the same something that always made him too proud, the same something that said I’m better than that.
Immediately, he was ashamed of his thoughts. Javier seemed like a nice guy. Eridan wasn’t better than him.
He still couldn’t imagine Master Idhron doing something as emotional as having sex.
“So, what is he like?” he said before he could stop himself.
Javier gave him an amused look. “You do realize that there’s a non-disclosure clause in my contract, right?”
Eridan chuckled. “Please. There are ways around it. You can still talk in vague terms.”
The other guy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I’m afraid I have nothing juicy to share. He doesn’t even use me often enough.” He looked vaguely affronted. “I think he finds sex a waste of his time, just a physical function he has to deal with. He always looks like he has a million things on his mind, more important than whatever I’m doing.”
Yeah, that sounds more like Castien Idhron, Eridan thought wryly, though he blushed, imagining his Master sitting with a bored, haughty look on his face as Javier sucked his—
Ugh. Why was he even thinking about it?
He really needed to work on his shields now.
***
Eridan looked in the mirror, eyeing himself critically. The clothes were a good fit. They were made in the traditional style for apprentices; except they were in white and brown colors instead of the shades of blue the apprentices wore.
Eridan looked at his shoulder-length hair and scrunched up his nose. He had never liked how wavy his hair became the longer it got, but initiates weren’t allowed to tie their hair back. When—if—he became Idhron’s apprentice officially, his Master would braid a thaal into his hair, which would mark him as a claimed apprentice.
But for now, Eridan couldn’t do anything about his hair.
Fuck, he detested this hairstyle. It made him look… effeminate. Not that there was anything wrong with looking effeminate, but it had always made his life harder at the Initiates’ Hall. Being a throwback, a male who produced natural lubrication when he was aroused, had always made him an easy target for crude jokes about his “boy-pussy”—seriously, if Eridan didn’t hear that word for another century, it would be too soon—but being pretty just added insult to the injury.
At least his classes with other initiates would be limited now, which was the only good thing about the situation.
Eridan went still as something at the back of his mind tugged.
Oh.
Idhron was finally back.
Wetting his lips nervously, Eridan headed downstairs.
In the past four days since he’d moved into Idhron’s mansion, he’d gotten used to it and could navigate it easily despite its size. Truth be told, he already felt more at home in this mansion than he had ever felt in his dormitory despite living there for most of his life. Something about living in such a huge house felt… right.
Shaking off the strange thought, Eridan left the house and stopped on the porch, choosing it as the middle ground between waiting for his Master inside the house or at the gates. Waiting inside the house would be considered too disrespectful, but he cringed at the thought of waiting for Idhron at the gates like a domesticated animal for its owner. So the porch it was. Eridan hoped Idhron wouldn’t get too offended. Idhron didn’t seem like a stickler for stupid traditions just for the sake of it, but who knew what kind of mood he was in after his trip.
But there was no reward without a risk. These first days of his probationary apprenticeship would set the entire tone of his relationship with his Master. He had no intention of being a pushover. He might make Idhron displeased, but Eridan wanted to test the boundaries, to test how far he could actually push them.
He kept his gaze down, but he didn’t need to see Idhron to feel him approach. It was the strangest feeling. The bond that tied them seemed to tighten and vibrate the closer his Master got. Eridan caught his bottom lip between his teeth, breathing evenly, in and out. In and out.
As Idhron’s shiny black boots came into view, Eridan dropped to his knees fluidly and said, “Master. Was your trip fruitful?”
A hand took his chin and tipped it up.
Blue eyes swept over his new clothes before focusing back on his face. “It was,” he said. “I see you worked on your shields in my absence.”
Eridan nodded and dropped his gaze, the tips of his ears burning. The desire to hide his conversation with Javier from Idhron had been a good incentive.
“Shall we test them, then?” Idhron said mildly, his thumb moving along Eridan’s jawline until it was pressed against Eridan’s telepathic point.
Eridan shuddered, the bond between them pulsing with need.
“Not good enough,” Idhron stated.
Was it his imagination or did Idhron really sound a little breathless?
“I’m sorry, Master,” Eridan said, glaring at the wooden floor of the porch. “I will try harder.”
Idhron released his chin. “You will,” he said. He headed inside the house, clearly expecting Eridan to follow him. He did, of course.
Idhron led him toward his study. Along the way, Eridan quietly instructed the house’s AI to have Idhron’s favorite meals delivered as soon as possible from the kitchens. Personally, Eridan always found himself in a better mood if his stomach was full, and he hoped that was true for his Master, too.
Idhron sat in the chair behind his desk and gestured for Eridan to take the seat to his right.
Eridan did as he was told and folded his hands in his lap, the picture of a perfect apprentice.
Judging by Idhron’s narrowed eyes, he only managed to make him suspicious.
“Have you done the assignment?” Idhron said.
Eridan pouted, thinking about the message he had received from Idhron a few days ago. “About that. I’ve never heard of Masters assigning their apprentices homework. I still have initiates’ classes I have to attend, you know.”
Idhron didn’t look sorry for him. “Have you?” he said, his tone colder.
Eridan sighed. So whining his way out of doing homework wasn’t a line Idhron would allow him to push. More was the pity, but good to know.
“I have, Master,” he said, smiling innocently when Idhron gave him a hard, assessing look. “Thanks, by the way. I had lots of fun doing those tasks.”
He had expected Idhron to be angry—or his unemotional version of it, anyway—for attempting to play him, but the older man’s gaze seemed almost… appreciative?
“Did you now
,” Idhron said without much inflection.
Eridan nodded, trying to squash down the urge to impress him. What was wrong with him? It wasn’t about impressing Idhron. Or rather, it wasn’t about impressing Idhron for the sake of impressing him. He wanted to be promoted to a real apprentice. That was the goal. Nothing else.
“I wasn’t sure what to do at first,” Eridan admitted. “You just told me to learn five other people’s secrets without getting caught, and I wasn’t sure what method you wanted me to use. And I’ve never been good at reading people’s minds, so I was a little bit frustrated.” That was putting it mildly. He had been fuming that Idhron had set him up to fail. It wasn’t as though Idhron didn’t have access to his academic records and couldn’t see his poor marks in mind reading. But when he calmed down, he had realized that Idhron wanted to see how he would handle such a task. It was another test. A test Eridan hoped he had passed.
“So I used your reputation,” Eridan said, watching his Master’s reaction carefully. “All the initiates are scared of you. All I had to do was imply that I wanted to enter their minds on your orders, and that if they resisted, you would not be pleased.” He nearly laughed, remembering the other initiates’ faces at that threat. Eridan had picked the most horrible initiates he had known, ones that always bullied throwbacks and younger children. He couldn’t deny that he’d taken pleasure in scaring those assholes shitless. “They let me enter their minds, obviously, and after I learned their most embarrassing secret, I erased their memories of our conversation—that I’m rather good at.” Focusing, he sent the memories of those conversations to his Master through their training bond.
Idhron’s expression remained impassive. Unimpressed.
Eridan’s heart sank. He had thought Idhron wouldn’t mind his solution…
“It is not your solution that is the problem, Eridan,” Idhron said, his voice mild. “Using all resources available to you was a smart thing to do. What I have an issue with is the fact that you picked five unpleasant boys you did not like. You let your emotions rule your actions.”
Eridan clenched his jaw. “Well, that’s me. I already told you not to expect me to turn into an emotionless robot. If you really expect it, you should stop wasting our time and ditch me right now.”
“I hardly expect you to turn into an ‘emotionless robot,’ Eridan,” Idhron said, giving him a steady look. “But I expect you not to be so squeamish. When you eventually become a mind adept of the High Hronthar, it will be part of your job to learn other people’s dirtiest secrets, and you will not be afforded the luxury of choosing only people you dislike.”
Eridan swallowed his annoyance, hating that Idhron’s point was valid and hating himself for being pleased by his wording. Idhron had said “when you eventually become a mind adept,” not if. It pleased him more than it should have.
“So I failed your test,” he stated, dejected.
“Yes and no,” his Master said. “I will give you an opportunity to redo your assignment, only this time you will choose five people you like. Your closest friends.”
A laugh left Eridan’s mouth. “Then you’re out of luck, Master. I don’t exactly have friends.” He said it in his most casual voice, but he probably shouldn’t have bothered, considering that Idhron had direct access to his emotions.
“Why not?” Castien said, looking faintly puzzled. “You are quite outgoing and physically appealing. Boys like you are usually popular among your peers.”
Eridan face warmed. “I’m a throwback,” he said, holding Idhron’s gaze unflinchingly. He refused to be embarrassed about it. “You do know that, right?”
When the other man just gave a nod, he relaxed slightly and continued. “It has always been something other boys teased me about, and I kind of developed a bit of a sharp tongue in response to all the teasing.” Bullying. “And it also didn’t help that everyone knew about your preliminary claim on me.” He smiled humorlessly. “It didn’t exactly make me friends.”
Idhron nodded, his expression difficult to read.
Curiously, Eridan peeked into his Master’s mind.
He hadn’t tried to do it before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect.
He found… immense mental shields. They weren’t walls, the mental defense most telepaths, Eridan included, tended to gravitate to. Idhron’s shields were like a fog, dense and elusive, ever-changing and confusing. When Eridan tried to enter the fog, he realized that he had no idea where to go, where the exit or entrance was. These kinds of mental defenses were designed to get the intruder hopelessly lost.
He would have been hopelessly lost, too, if he wasn’t able to sense a gap in those defenses, a faint path into Idhron’s mind. It was their bond, Eridan realized with some surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Although the Master had more control over the training bond, the apprentice could still use it, too. But “could” didn’t equal “allowed to.” Masters generally didn’t like giving their apprentices free access to their minds, and he doubted Castien Idhron was an exception. Eridan was still curious. So he focused and followed the bond until he finally slipped past Idhron’s mental defenses.
Behind them, there was order. It might be a strange way to describe someone’s mind, but Idhron’s mind really was incredibly orderly. Nothing was out of place. All of his memories were locked behind countless mental doors. No emotion leaked through.
He was suddenly pushed roughly out of Idhron’s mind, a headache splitting his skull.
“Curiosity is not a bad trait,” Idhron said as Eridan massaged his temples. “But one that could have gotten you killed if you were anyone else.”
Eridan couldn’t even manage a glare. His eyes were still squeezed shut as he fought nausea from his pounding headache.
He heard Idhron sigh and walk around the desk. “Let this be a small warning, Eridan,” he said, laying a hand on the side of Eridan’s head and pushing his thumb against his telepathic point. He pushed in, and Eridan moaned in relief as his Master’s cool mental presence soothed the throbbing pain in his head. “If you attempt to intrude into my mind again, I will not be as merciful.”
Eridan nodded dazedly, too lost in pleasure to argue with his Master about the unfairness of it.
He whined when Idhron started withdrawing. “No,” he said breathlessly. “Just a little more.”
He felt that Idhron was less than amused.
“Please, Master,” Eridan said through the bond, pulling him deeper into his mind. He needed—he needed—
Idhron pulled out abruptly, removing his hand. “Enough.”
Still feeling dazed, Eridan forced his eyes open. “But Master,” he said with a pout, grabbing Idhron’s hand unthinkingly.
He froze upon seeing the icy look Idhron was fixing him with.
“You will need to build tolerance to our mental contact,” Idhron bit out. “That was unacceptable. I cannot have an apprentice who gets high on our training bond.”
Eridan flushed. “It’s hardly my fault it feels good!”
“You foolish boy,” Idhron said. “Do you have any idea how vulnerable you make yourself when you invite me in as you did just now?”
Eridan frowned, rather confused. “You’re a Class 7 telepath who has direct access to my mind through our bond. It doesn’t get more vulnerable than that, Master.” Not to mention that I don’t believe that you really care about me making myself vulnerable to you.
He hadn’t expressed the latter thought aloud, but he was sure Idhron picked it up through their connection, since he wasn’t shielding.
Idhron said, “I might be a Class 7, but you are Class 5, strong enough to protect your mind from deep invasion if you really focus. By inviting me in, you give me unlimited power to do whatever I want to your mind.” He cocked his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curling. “You are correct that I do not really care that you are making yourself vulnerable to me. But such… sensitivity is a weakness that can be—and will be—exploited by other telepaths you might be mental
ly compatible with. I will never be able to trust you with sensitive information if you are reduced to an overstimulated, pleasure-drunk mess every time someone compatible touches your mind.”
Eridan gave him a skeptical look. Mental compatibility was rare enough. In all his years in Hronthar, he had never met anyone else he reacted to in such a way. “You really think I might meet someone else I’ll be this compatible with?”
Idhron pinched the bridge of his nose. “Our compatibility is strong, but it is not perfect. One day you might meet a telepath who will be able to reduce you to such a state simply by looking you in the eye. Perfect compatibility is rare, but it can happen, and I can’t have you being a liability if it does. So you will need to stop being so pathetic and build tolerance to mental pleasure.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Eridan said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Idhron’s lips thinned in displeasure. “Controlled exposure. I will have to spend a limited amount of time inside your mind every day until it stops being so intense to you.”
Eridan blinked a few times, unsure how he felt about it. “I don’t get a say in this, I guess?”
Idhron looked at him steadily. “You do get a say. But unless you get this problem under control, you cannot become my real apprentice. I will never be able to trust you, just like I will never be able to trust any substance addict.”
Eridan bristled. He wasn’t an addict. “How come you aren’t affected by this compatibility?”
He couldn’t read the expression on Idhron’s face at all. “Because unlike you, I do not let my emotions control me. As I already told you, my capacity for emotion is very limited.”
Eridan narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not sure he was buying it. Pleasure centers weren’t located anywhere close to emotional centers in the brains of Calluvians. If that were the case, Idhron wouldn’t even want to have sex anymore, which clearly wasn’t the case, according to Javier.
Eridan shoved the thought to the back of his mind, his face warming. He hoped Idhron hadn’t caught it.