SHE WAS SITTING far at the back of the dark maqha, taking her slow turn with a shisha when she saw him standing in the doorway, the bright sunlight behind him emphasizing how tall and black and regal he was. He wore a tunic of purple silk trimmed in elaborately embroidered gold threads over voluminous white silk pajamas, his head wrapped in a swath of white silk.<\/p>\n
He was wealthy, that one.<\/p>\n
Smitty murmured, \u201cTalaat Khersis. The Moneylender o\u2019 Marrakech.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her head snapped right. \u201cA Jew?<\/em>\u201d Smitty nodded. \u201cEthiopian, then, I\u2019d assume.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAye.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s a long way from home.\u201d The man\u2019s eyes found hers, and she breathed, \u201cI want him.\u201d<\/p>\n Smitty snorted. \u201cHe\u2019s worthless as a man.\u201d<\/p>\n Celia scowled at her fellow officer. \u201cEven geldings know how the act is accomplished.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYet nothing to accomplish it with.\u201d<\/p>\n She snorted. \u201cYou know nothing of women, Smitty. We have ways. Eunuchs are not ignorant of those ways, either. \u2019Tis only to be seen if he prefers women.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe does, in fact. You have been with a eunuch before?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNay, but I have heard things. And he is \u2026 commanding. Powerful.\u201d<\/p>\n He smirked. \u201cAye, I know your tastes. But what makes you think\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMademoiselle.\u201d<\/p>\n She and Smitty looked up as one to see the ebony god standing over their low table, his gaze totally riveted on Celia. The corner of her mouth curled up and she patted the pillow next to her. He immediately skirted the low table, crossed his legs, and gracefully sank to the floor. He flashed her a sly smile when she made sure that her thigh rubbed along his, but refused the pipe when she offered.<\/p>\n \u201cTalaat Khersis,\u201d Smitty muttered after a draw. \u201cCalico Jack, Carnivale<\/em> ship\u2019s master.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCalico Jack?\u201d he drawled in a rich bass, staring at her speculatively. \u201cIsn\u2019t he\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCelia,\u201d she murmured, then continued in French, the lingua franca of the Barbary Coast. \u201cMy name is Celia. I prefer that when in the company of a gentleman.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you know I am gentle, Mademoiselle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you know I am unmarried, Monsieur?\u201d<\/p>\n His face flashed white with a wide grin. Khersis was not, Celia noted absently, terribly attractive. But she was ever drawn to a man with a commanding air, one who clearly knew what he wanted and meant to get it.<\/p>\n \u201cTalaat, if you please, Celia.\u201d Without ever breaking Celia\u2019s gaze, he said, \u201cThank you for the introduction, Mr. Smith. You may leave us now.\u201d<\/p>\n Smitty harrumphed, but did as he was bid, most likely to find his own piece of flesh for the afternoon. He pulled the gauzy curtain closed behind him.<\/p>\n Khersis leaned toward Celia and she met him halfway, their mouths touching, pressing, sinking together until their tongues met and Celia\u2019s eyes closed.<\/p>\n He tasted of cinnamon and figs.<\/p>\n A large, warm hand slid along her face and fingers furrowed through her hair.<\/p>\n \u201cYou are not a shy one,\u201d he whispered as he drew away only enough to nibble on her lips with his. \u201cAnd you waste no time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI run a ship\u2019s operations,\u201d she breathed. \u201cI cannot afford to be shy or inefficient.\u201d<\/p>\n He shifted slightly and brushed his mouth along her cheek to her jaw. She sighed and tilted her head to give him better access. \u201cYou sail with Skirrow.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui, though not for long. I am here to find a different berth.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd if you cannot?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI shall sail with him until I am forced to kill him.\u201d<\/p>\n She felt him smile against her jaw. \u201cI believe you are half serious.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWholly.\u201d<\/p>\n He drew away from her and they studied at each other for a moment. \u201c\u2018As soon as I had seen her, I was lost. For Beauty\u2019s wound is sharper than any weapon\u2019s, and it runs through the eyes down to the soul. It is through the eye that love\u2019s wound passes, and I now became a prey to a host of emotions \u2026 \u2019\u201d<\/p>\n Celia\u2019s breath hitched. \u201cClitophon,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cHow can I fail to love a woman who knows an obscure Greek work?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI would look forward to your brand of love, Talaat.\u201d<\/p>\n His eyebrow rose. \u201cEven though you know nothing of me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI doubt you are the type of man who would start a battle he could not then finish.\u201d<\/p>\n He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, rich laugh that momentarily stilled the chatter in the maqha. \u201cYou have great faith in my abilities, Mademoiselle. Too much, in fact.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCelia,\u201d she whispered, leaning toward him until their noses and foreheads met. She touched his thigh, covered in loose white silk trousers and slid her hand up until it was covered by the purple silk. All the while, he simply watched her, half amused, half curious.<\/p>\n As she expected, his sac was empty of stones, but his prick, flaccid though it was, was intact, and she stroked him through his trousers.<\/p>\n His nostrils flared, and she smiled slowly. \u201cYou have feeling at least.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, you knew.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did.\u201d<\/p>\n He chuckled wryly and shook his head. \u201cSmith has a big mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTouch me,\u201d she whispered, tugging on the ties of her shirt and opening it to reveal the depth of her cleavage.<\/p>\n He did and she looked down. Seeing that dark hand against her pale scar-riven skin was an aphrodisiac like none she had experienced. His fingers stroked her scars, then he shifted until his mouth was at her collarbone, his tongue paying homage to her deformities.<\/p>\n \u201cI should like to continue this in privacy, Monsieur Talaat,\u201d she whispered, her hand wrapped around the back of his head.<\/p>\n \u201cOui,\u201d he murmured, kissing his way up the short column of her throat to her jaw. \u201cI too prefer to worship in private.\u201d<\/p>\n After a bit of negotiation to set themselves to rights, he escorted her out of the maqha and handed her into a litter borne by six servants. \u201cMy home is but a few turns from here.\u201d<\/p>\n The homes in this area of the city were rich, indeed.<\/p>\n \u201cHow long are you in port?\u201d<\/p>\n Her eyebrow arched. \u201cI am the ship\u2019s master and navigator. We sail on my word. I misread Mother Nature\u2019s nature when it suits me to do so.\u201d<\/p>\n Yet again he laughed. \u201cYou reveal yourself more clever with each word you speak.\u201d<\/p>\n She relaxed back against his soft body, cradled between his long legs, her face turned to feel his silk-covered body against her cheek while his hands cupped, sometimes lightly kneaded, her breasts.<\/p>\n Neither of them spoke until he had drawn her into his home of white marble, ivory tusk, and ebony and mahogany woods, then silently gave her over to a gaggle of female servants who took her to the harem\u2014<\/p>\n \u2014which was empty.<\/p>\n She stopped cold and looked around.<\/p>\n \u201cHe has no women?\u201d<\/p>\n The servants would not answer, would not raise their eyes, would not stand straight in her presence.<\/p>\n The atrium, though well tended and beautiful, was silent and had not been used in years.<\/p>\n She began to smile, especially when they led her to a table crowded with foods sweet and savory.<\/p>\n Once she had eaten and drunk her fill, the women directed her to another room. There was no reaction to the sight of her scars when they divested her of her plain trousers and shirt, and led her to the bathing pool. Her hair was washed. Her body was massaged and oiled. All the hair on her body was removed.<\/p>\n She made no protest. She had plied the Mediterranean with Dunham since she was eight years old, and was no stranger to the customs of the various peoples of North Africa and Arabia. For her fifteenth birthday, Rafael himself had taken her to an Arabian enclave in Lisbon and introduced her to the richness of being personally tended. Likewise, he had taken her on her seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth birthdays. She was not fond of the Europeans\u2019 refusal to bathe often.<\/p>\n The women\u2019s ministrations changed as they silently bade her to dress, and she did so as was proper, as a concubine\u2014<\/p>\n Her mouth dropped open when they stayed her hand and re-dressed her.<\/p>\n \u201cLud,\u201d she breathed as she stared at the clothes they put upon her person. She did not know this man, and though she was willing to while away a succession of nights in his bed, she was now not certain what he expected of her.<\/p>\n By the time she was taken to his chambers, the sun had just set, leaving the sky a muted, beautiful orange fading into yellow fading into purple. He stood at a side table, dressed only in his pajamas, pouring wine into jewel-encrusted silver goblets. Gold hoop earrings hung from his earlobes below his bald head.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy am I dressed this way?\u201d she demanded of him. \u201cI am not your wife, nor do I intend to become so.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is a gesture of respect,\u201d he answered without hesitation. \u201cNo more, no less. You are familiar with our customs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui.\u201d<\/p>\n With a goblet-filled hand, he gestured toward his pillow-strewn sleeping dais. \u201cPlease.\u201d She eyed him suspiciously, but could not help but notice his body, which was as soft as she had suspected. He was a eunuch, and he had the body of one.<\/p>\n \u201cYou love women but your harem is empty.\u201d<\/p>\n His mouth quirked. \u201cPleasuring women eventually becomes a bit exhausting and I have not met a woman who intrigued me enough to expend that much effort on an ongoing basis.\u201d<\/p>\n That made her laugh. \u201cAh, so a sailor is perfect. In, out.\u201d<\/p>\n And he laughed with her. \u201cA sailor with hair the color of a Sahara sunrise and eyes like honey and a mouth made for pleasuring me \u2026 Yes. Perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n Her smile faded and she tilted her head. \u201cDo you mean to say a woman has not taken you in her mouth?\u201d<\/p>\n Talaat\u2019s focus shifted until he was looking through her to some point in his past. \u201cBriefly, but they grow impatient with my inability to \u2026 grow.\u201d<\/p>\n Celia sighed and went to him, dropping to her knees, pulling at his pajama ties, sliding her hands over the smooth, warm skin of his hips to his thick buttocks, slipping the cloth away from him.<\/p>\n Then stared at his ebony prick. Blinked.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m a Jew,\u201d he said caustically, apparently misunderstanding her hesitation. \u201cI\u2019m cut.\u201d<\/p>\n And beautiful. She dipped her head and took him in her mouth.<\/p>\n He sucked in a breath and released it on a low moan. The silver goblets crashed to the floor, spilling wine everywhere, dropped so that he could run his hands through her loose hair. \u201cCelia,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n She looked up to see that he had dropped his head back and his chest was heaving. It was enough to make tears sting her eyes.<\/p>\n He wanted a skilled and willing woman who also wanted him.<\/p>\n He remained flaccid in her hand, her mouth, but she pulled at him and licked that beautiful bare head. She cupped his empty sac in her hand and kneaded him gently. She knew she\u2019d done well when his breath hitched and he pressed her closer to him. She stayed that way for a while, paying homage to his pain the way she wished a man would pay homage to hers.<\/p>\n Twice he attempted to draw her to her feet, saying some nonsense about her turn, but she ignored him and shook him off to continue suckling.<\/p>\n Then, moving on, she drew a fingertip from the back of his sac, along the crease between his legs to his buttocks, dragging her thumb behind and lightly massaging that meager space.<\/p>\n \u201cCelia, don\u2019t,\u201d he warned.<\/p>\n But she did, slipping a finger inside him and finding that spot\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cMon Dieu!\u201d he cried, and his hips bucked against her mouth, once, twice. She pulled away quickly so that he would not catch his still flaccid and utterly dry prick upon her teeth while he thrust. \u201cDieu,\u201d he whispered over and over again, \u201cDieu,\u201d petting her hair and attempting to catch his breath.<\/p>\n She leaned against his strong body, her cheek in contact with his belly, and lazily licked at him, that dark, beautiful instrument someone had been so cruel as to destroy.<\/p>\n \u201cRise, ma c\u0153ur,\u201d he whispered, finally unwilling to allow her to remain on her knees. \u201cCome let me worship you.\u201d<\/p>\n She did obey him at last, taking his hand to be drawn up his body so he could wrap her up in his strength and kiss her until she could taste his pain and joy on her tongue.<\/p>\n Salt.<\/p>\n He was weeping.<\/p>\n Celia attempted to deepen the kiss, but he was too tall\u2014 He lifted her and she clung to him while they kissed as if they could exchange souls.<\/p>\n \u201cMerci,\u201d he whispered finally, though his tears had not abated, and his face glistened with moisture.<\/p>\n \u201cRien.\u201d<\/p>\n He carried her to his dais and laid her gently down. Some time during the last\u2014 She looked out to the darkness and spotted the stars. \u2014half hour while she had Talaat in her mouth, someone had entered the room to light oil lamps and braziers.<\/p>\n She found that oddly inconsequential.<\/p>\n Talaat turned and walked across the chamber to the sideboard where he poured them two more goblets of wine. She watched his rounded body move, the thickened waist and hips, admiring it for what it was, what it must have endured, and wondered\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cHow old were you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTwenty-eight,\u201d he replied immediately.<\/p>\n \u201cSo you remember what it was like with a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui. And what it was to look like a man.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI have forty-one winters. You?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTwenty-five.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMon Dieu. I could have fathered you.\u201d He returned with the wine and sank to the pillows. \u201cI should be setting about seducing you, but I fear I am rather befuddled at the moment.\u201d<\/p>\n She took the goblet and sipped. \u201cI would have thought \u2026 \u201d She gestured toward his room, toward the outdoors, toward the harem. \u201c \u2026 a rich man in this city would have known how to get his needs met.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, well, I have never been one to attempt to instruct and after I was castrated, my experience with women has been perfunctory at best, and usually only gained with the sight of a bit of coin. I have no wish to fund a household of women who cannot bear to look upon me, much less touch me.\u201d<\/p>\n Her eyes narrowed. \u201cDid you think I was a whore?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNon. I knew who you were.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, dear God. Smitty.\u201d<\/p>\n He smiled into his cup before he took a swallow. \u201cOui et non. Everyone in Casa Blanca knows of you by sight and position, if not by name; after all, a woman sailing as a ship\u2019s master is not insignificant. A white woman with a long pink braid, unveiled and dressed in sailor\u2019s garb and armed to the teeth is gossip-worthy. One who can sail with Skirrow unmolested is extraordinary. The second I saw you, I knew I had to meet you. Dooley is a good friend and he has known of my fascination with you. I did not believe him when he said you would find me pleasing, so I was shocked by the way you looked at me, and even more shocked when you returned my kiss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI am, apparently, far too predictable,\u201d she grumbled.<\/p>\n Talaat laughed. \u201cThat, my love, is the last thing you are. You are so young. How did you know how to please me? I didn\u2019t even know that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m a sailor,\u201d she purred.<\/p>\n \u201cOne in every port?\u201d<\/p>\n Celia looked down into her goblet. \u201cNon,\u201d she said solemnly. \u201cPleasuring myself is more efficient than either seeking new lovers to my taste or suffering through bad decisions. And I do not relish the idea of my face bearing the signs of the pox. Non,\u201d she repeated. \u201cI learned that particular skill\u2014and many others\u2014during the five years I spent in Rafael Covarrubias\u2019s bed.\u201d<\/p>\n He gaped at her, and then began to laugh. He dropped into the pillows on his back and continued to laugh.<\/p>\n \u201cWhile I am gratified to see you laugh so easily, Monsieur, you would tell me why that is so amusing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou are the girl who had Covarrubias wrapped around her finger for so long!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought it was the other way \u2019round,\u201d Celia grumbled.<\/p>\n \u201cAh, no wonder you know your classics. Educated at university, and no less than Professor Covarrubias\u2019s star pupil\u2014the girl who can calculate the stars almost as well as he!\u201d He roared with laughter, and Celia couldn\u2019t help but smile, but that turned into a yawn.<\/p>\n Talaat stirred immediately and began the process of making Celia comfortable for sleep. \u201cDid you drug my wine?\u201d she asked sleepily.<\/p>\n \u201cNon! I would never do such a thing. Consider the possibility that you are fatigued.\u201d<\/p>\n She sighed and muttered, \u201cAye, there is that.\u201d<\/p>\n SHE GASPED AND arched her back with the orgasm that was approaching. \u201cOh, God, Talaat!\u201d<\/p>\n A muted chuckle tickled her ears, and suddenly she realized that not only was she no longer dreaming, but that when she was, she had been dreaming of the man who was, at the moment, sucking on her button.<\/p>\n Her quim clenched, but she knew there would be nothing to fill it unless\u2014<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d she moaned when a warm, hard object slid inside her and then out again. She tightened her legs around Talaat\u2019s head, but he wedged himself higher to force them wide. \u201cTalaat,\u201d she whimpered.<\/p>\n She felt his big hand on her belly and press down while his other slipped the dildo in, then out with a precise rhythm that created in her an orgasm nothing like she\u2019d ever known or could duplicate on her own. It was as if she were climaxing from two different places simultaneously.<\/p>\n Talaat was stronger than he looked and kept her where he wanted her to receive the greatest pleasure he could give her.<\/p>\n Yet perhaps not.<\/p>\n He traced another warm, well-oiled object from her quim down to slip it in her back passage, and she wailed at how exquisite that was.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have done this,\u201d he murmured against her belly as he gently worked both dildos in an alternating rhythm.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, aye,\u201d she sighed, reaching for the next orgasm that teased her.<\/p>\n \u201cWith a man or with men?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMen,\u201d she choked out, really too bedazzled to speak, much less think. \u201cTwo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou like it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, aye,\u201d she groaned again.<\/p>\n Again he shifted to pull on her button with his lips and tongue.<\/p>\n She choked and cried, biting her knuckle to keep herself from coming completely apart.<\/p>\n Then she did and began to sob because she had no other way to release the coarse, beautiful tension he had created in her. She continued to weep even after she had caught her breath and curled in on herself, rolling to her side.<\/p>\n Talaat retreated, then she heard him speaking to a servant low enough that she could not discern his words. Water splashed, then he joined her, smelling once again of cinnamon.<\/p>\n \u201cHere,\u201d he murmured, pressing a fig to her lips, which she took and chewed with gratitude. \u201cHow can I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHold me,\u201d she hiccuped.<\/p>\n He lay down and pulled her into his arms. She clung to him. \u201cWhy do you weep?\u201d he asked softly. \u201cI thought\u2014 tried\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was beautiful, Talaat,\u201d she whispered harshly. \u201cI have never\u2014 I didn\u2019t know. Not even Rafael\u2014 Merci. Oh, merci beaucoup!\u201d<\/p>\n She felt him smile against her forehead. \u201cYou\u2019re quite welcome. Now. Let us speak of your breasts.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat of them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did not respond when I suckled you, and I did so for a long while, to wake you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNay. They have no feeling.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou must have sinned greatly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did. I shall tell you when I have some measure of strength.\u201d<\/p>\n He said nothing, and her eyes drifted closed.<\/p>\n \u201cI would have you stay with me for a time,\u201d he whispered, caressing her hair and tucking it behind her ear. \u201cI would know you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui,\u201d she sighed once again. \u201cAnd I you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI believe you would be an easy woman for me to love.\u201d<\/p>\n That made her laugh. \u201cNo one I know would agree with you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut they are not me.\u201d<\/p>\n She opened her eyes. \u201cHave you loved?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui. Twice. My first wife died, along with the child she was attempting to birth. My second \u2026 Well, after my captivity, she could not abide half a man whose shape turned somewhat womanly, and she wished to go back to her brother\u2019s village. I allowed it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou are yet married?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNon,\u201d he said, and tucked a finger under her chin. She opened her eyes after a moment of silence. \u201cShe left to return to her family as I could no longer sire. Her brother stoned her.\u201d<\/p>\n Celia gasped. \u201c Why?!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe did not bring enough of my riches to him. She underestimated the extent of his greed. I had hoped to marry again someday, a woman who would know of my defect from the beginning, and understand. I had not dared hope for one who would find a way to make me feel whole again.\u201d<\/p>\n She bit her lip because she felt something different from Talaat than she did for Rafael, and wondered at it. It was deeper, richer, and suddenly, her fantasies of marrying Rafael did not seem worth tending.<\/p>\n \u201cI am white,\u201d she whispered. \u201cAnd Catholic, should I happen to think of it. What of your synagogue?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy status as eunuch makes me somewhat of an outcast. I have not been to worship properly in years, though I observe our customs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI would bring you shame in other ways.\u201d<\/p>\n He chuckled and pointedly glanced around at his chambers. \u201cWe can abide in our own humble ghetto.\u201d<\/p>\n Celia\u2019s mouth tilted up on one side. \u201cI shall think on the matter.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou are not wholly opposed.\u201d<\/p>\n She gulped. This was rash, reckless, and she did not often act so recklessly. However, he had<\/em> dressed her as befit a wife.<\/p>\n \u201cNon.\u201d<\/p>\n ★<\/p>\n SHE WAS SITTING far at the back of the dark maqha, taking her slow turn with a shisha when she saw him standing in the doorway, the bright sunlight behind him emphasizing how tall and black and regal he was. He wore a tunic of purple silk trimmed in elaborately embroidered gold threads over voluminous […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":2749,"menu_order":4412,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8794","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8794"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8794"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8794\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25060,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8794\/revisions\/25060"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2749"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8794"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}