[ There was only minute surprise at the term Amber Bedroom, a room that Essek rarely opened. There were times where he hosted house parties here, once in a blue moon but the Amber Bedroom had always been sacred and no one was ever given it, but of course Bren would not know that, could not know that. It was a room that got the best of the morning light, with the amber glow peeking through the curtains, but Essek had never seen why it had been given that name, never would

'what I would not give to see you with the dawn, ussta'chaithu' and the ensuing embrace, arms around his waist and the press of a face against his cool neck, the retort, 'I am yours by dawn, day, twilight and night, even if are not there to see it'

A clench rolled through him at that, deep and hot-- a surface memory so deep and that sliced through the ice, just a little bit, of his heart. He nodded then and then started up the curving stairs, the house was far warmer than the man who owned it. The butler behind them hurried away to rouse the kitchens while Essek would show the man to his rooms. ]

I understand matters of pride quite well, Bren; and I do not offer kindness to everyone. When people refer to me, the term 'kind' or 'altruistic' never come into the conversation; however I do have several tasks that I have left too long un-attended to and we may discuss if perhaps you are suitable to the endeavor.

[ A library of books in disarray, for a few hundred years because it had been his and Essek had not the wherewithal to touch them when ever spine held a memory. Of slipping in to wrap his arms around his lover's shoulders, soft moments in front of the fire as they cuddled and his lover read aloud to him or the press of body against shelf as his teeth buried in flesh and pleasure arched between them in between the panting gasping moans of his mate as he claimed him. ]