Setta possessed a slow-to-burn anger, but once that fire was lit, it was a difficult one to quench.
Only with the greatest control did she refrain from pushing the entire tray to the ground. And she only did that because her ladies maids would twitter about her and generally increase her irritation.
The most difficult aspect of the entire role, the hardest part of being Queen, was forever having to wear a serene mask.
When times were troubled, the people needed to see a Queen who was so sure and secure in her kingdom's rulings, that not even a worry line marred her brow.
When the heiress to the throne suddenly disappeared, the people needed to see a Queen who felt no fear or concern at the disappearance of her only and beloved daughter.
It did not matter that at times Setta felt sick with fear. For two decades, she'd been without two of the most important people in her life. Her sister and her daughter.
Without them, she'd lived a half-life. But the people had not seen that and for that, she congratulated herself on a job well done.
There had been times over the years, where her misery had been so profound that even rising from her divan had been difficult. Times where she had longed to sink into the delights of potions and licorices, concoctions that drugged the mind and body so as to con it into forgetting the true state of affairs.
Her husband had been a great support. Henrik was a loving husband and he was loved in return. But he was a busy man and his health was not good. She could not add her own concerns and unhappiness to the already-heavy burden on his shoulders. Her only release had come from the times she and Henrik coupled. There had been occasions, where she'd been like a jack-rabbit, seeking escape. In truth, the separation from her daughter had turned Setta into a woman she wasn't entirely sure she even recognized. Henrik still loved her, so she could not be too large a liability. . . . even so, there were many times, where she was not content with the woman she was.
These last twenty years had sunk Setta to the depths of a despair so treacherous, she had been like the waking dead.
Almost like the sun at dawn, she had started to awaken from this pit of misery, when her magik had informed her Fade was near the keys to Mearth. As soon as his fingers had brushed the enchanted parchment, Setta's senses had almost sizzled with power.
It was time.
And then had come contact with her daughter. For the first time in twenty years.
Even now, while she was angry, the thought of that first contact had tears brimming in her eyes.
Soon, Heather would be back home, where she belonged. And the kingdom would no longer fall solely on Henrik's shoulders. He would have Fade's aid. Henrik was an old man now. While Setta was merely middle aged at ninety-seven, Henrik was nearing his one hundred and fortieth year. He needed help and Fade was a warrior prince.
Times being as they were, Jender needed just that.
A warrior.
"Of course, she is, dearling. She will not understand the bond and as such, this entire situation must be a great shock for her and it will take time for her to grow accustomed to this new world and I don't mean Mearth.” Henrik's voice rumbled out of his barrel-like chest. He was a strong man, always had been and even to this day, there was little fat on his frame. His size was an indicator of the powerful warrior he'd once been. The years had not diminished his stature nor his handsome features, but they had weakened his desire for war. Setta could not blame him, she did not want Jender to be at war but the time was coming.
"I can't wait to see her, Henrik. The more she delays, the longer it will take for her to arrive here.”
"We must be patient, my love. We have waited this long, a few more days or even a week is nothing in comparison.” He'd been seated directly opposite her in a large throne-like armchair which took his weight, something which no other piece of furniture in this room could. After their wedding, almost immediately after she'd been sworn in as Queen, she'd had a chair commissioned for this room so that he could visit her without breaking every ounce of furniture she possessed. Over the many years of their marriage, a routine had developed between the pair of them. No matter how busy they were, no matter how much they had to attend to, they met for afternoon tea. Every day.
While he'd been comfortably seated, he stood and walked towards her. His hands reached for hers and he pressed his lips to each palm.
"It is difficult, my love. I know this, don't you think I suffer with you? Neither of us have been the same since those dark times, where shuffling Heather on to another plane of existence had been necessary simply to protect her life. However, we have weathered the years and she is returning to us. Let us be patient.”
Rather than squeeze his hands as she would ordinarily have done, in a burst of energy, she pushed him away only to grab him to her by wrapping her arms about his waist and burying her face in his belly. His fingers found their way to the back of her head and gently, he played with her hair and intermittently, rubbed her nape.
"I want her back now, Henrik. All of these changes are occurring in her life and all I can do is scribble a few words to her. She needs guidance. She needs to talk to me, we need to discuss the bond and the mating heat and then she would probably go through with it. She needs me.”
"Of course, she does, dearling. You're her mother.” His fingers stilled but he did not move away from her as he continued, "We have kept an eye on Fade, Setta. He is a good man. Worthy of our daughter. We must pray that he does right by her and eases her into this new existence of hers.”
"It's the fault of those bastard's. Oh, God, why did they have to ruin everything?"
"Some men are sick, Setta. Their perversions know no bounds. We protected Heather from them and now, we must wait. It is Jender's good fortune that our lands are plentiful. That the soil is rich with minerals and that under the ground, ore flourishes. Because of Mother Mearth's bounty, we are punished, but not for long. I'm too old to be King, dearling. We both know that. As soon as Fade and Heather are bound, I shall abdicate and let him deal with the factions out to split Jender into pieces. It is a young man's game. He will sort all of this out and Jender will once again be at peace. Who knows, if Merrick can keep that slimy bastard Calder at bay, Jender could be double its size. Undoubtedly, Fade will bind both kingdoms together.
"We are about to witness the dawn of a new age, my sweet.”
"I know. I should care about Jender and in many ways I do, but I just want my little girl back.”
"You will never receive that wish, Setta. She is a woman grown now. Not a child. Respect her as a woman, or you may lose what you so desire.”
Setta pulled away and looked up into the grizzled features of her husband's handsome face. "I never thought of it that way.”
"Well, you must. She is not the child we smuggled away. You must get to know her as she is now. Allow her to be what she has become and do not try to change her.”
"I never would.” she snapped and then glared at him, when he merely cocked a brow. "For God's sake, Henrik. I wouldn't try and change her. I'd teach her and allow her to learn about her new role, there's a difference, you know. Mearth only knows what Maylar and that plane have crafted her into, she will be in no fit state to act as a Queen.” Henrik's lips twitched. "If you say so. I shouldn't think Jender will mind, dearling. It will soon be at war.” He sighed and the sound was heavy. "A kingdom at war, I'd hoped not to have to live through another one.”
"Well, don't be getting any ideas of missing it, Henrik.” Setta warned. "I'm not finally having my husband free from his 'mistress' only to lose him to death.”
"I'm still use for something, then, am I?"
She smiled at the twinkle in his eye and slowly rose to her feet. "Oh yes, sweetling. You certainly are.” She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers in his. Gently, she tugged him away from the center of the salon and the fussy furniture that was deemed appropriate for a Queen and towards a room that was Setta's and Henrik's alone.
Her sl
eeping chamber.
He'd always been able to charm her from her moods.
****
"There is only the one doorknob left, Fade. Surely it can wait until the morning? We need to rest, don't we?" Heather's words were muffled, because they were entwined with a yawn.
They were in the downstairs hallway. Fade was crouched before the door to the utility room and Heather was slouched against the opposite wall, watching him.
She'd decided that the best way of getting to know the man working tirelessly before her was simply to sit with him in the vain hope that eventually, he would talk to her.
She'd been wrong.
He rarely talked at all.
She'd never been one for silence. Always preferring the noise of the city to anything else, but this year and the loss of her aunt had changed her in ways she would never have imagined. The tranquility in the hall didn't bore her and hadn't done for the remainder of the day and evening. It had left her with her thoughts, some of which didn't bear contemplating, and only now as the early hours of the morning neared, did she feel anything. And that emotion was fatigue.
She yawned again and when he still hadn't replied, she asked, "Are you always this rude?"
Fade's head spun around so quickly that his center of balance was overshot and he fell in slump of arms and legs. The still unattached doorknob chose that precise moment to jerk free of the mechanism Fade had started to screw it down to and plopped on his head.
The sound made Heather cringe, but she was grateful that the knob had had something soft to land on. Had it touched her tiled floor, then it would have undoubtedly shattered. The solid, oddly-colored marble ball was untouched however, but it was damned heavy and Heather jolted upright and rushed over to him to see if he'd weathered the hit well. "Are you all right?" she asked, her concern evident in her voice.
Fade glared up at her and rubbed the place the doorknob had hit. "I was perfectly fine until you maligned my character.”
"I wasn't exactly maligning your character, Fade. It's just you have a tendency of not replying to questions when I ask them.” she retorted quickly. She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from his head and studied the already red and swelling flesh of his scalp. Heather did not fail to notice that as soon as her fingers had brushed his, he'd already been pulling away from her.
Did she have cooties or something?
"Perhaps you shouldn't ask stupid questions, Heather. Then I would reply.” He brushed her off and moved his head back so that she couldn't look at the bump without actively bending over him.
"For God's sake, stop being so touchy. I have questions and I would like answers, otherwise I wouldn't bloody ask them. If you weren't so damned dour, then you could ask me anything you wanted too. Hell's bells, we're supposed to spend our lives together. Surely we have to start getting to know each other now. Or do you expect me to fuck you simply because my mother says that's the only way we can get home?"
"I don't expect you to do anything and if I recall correctly, your mother didn't phrase it that way. She said that was the only way you could get home.”
Heather stilled. "You wouldn't be that big a jerk.”
Fade's eyes flashed to hers and away again. "Unfortunately, no, I wouldn't. But you needn't talk as though coupling with me is something that could occur in your worst nightmares.”
"I didn't phrase it that way at all. Don't be so damned touchy.”
"I'm not touchy. Not in any way.”
"Yes, you are. Incredibly so. And it makes you a pain in the God damn ass.”
For a moment, Fade just stared at her. His eyes, those peculiar golden amber orbs, pierced her to the core. She could sense his fury. Sense his distaste at her words and behavior, something she could only assume were very Earth-like, instead of Mearthen, as she supposed he was accustomed to and the way she ought to behave, if her formative years hadn't been spent in so peculiar a plane as was Earth.
She felt scorched by his glance and raked with his scorn, but he surprised her. Rather than attack her with hot, angry words, he laughed.
It was a mixture of a chuckle and a chortle and amusement suited him. She'd seen him in varying states of annoyance, unhappiness, anger. She'd seen him laugh, but never so freely as he did now.
"You shall make quite a Queen.”
His words shocked her and she tilted her head to the side in almost subconscious query.
He replied with a shrug and the answer, "You have the calm, serenity of a Queen and yet, the tongue of a viper. A rather charming combination, I find.”
"It is peculiar that you talk of me as being Queen and yet, you're the one that can make me so. Have you resigned yourself to your fate?"
A faint huff escaped his chest, which was still covered with armor. How the hell he managed to be so damned limber with half a ton of metal covering him, she didn't know. "I resigned myself to it, when I read the words 'mating heat'. I know of this and have seen a few men suffering from it. It has yet to hit me, but I can sense it is near. Almost like my blood is on low simmer. It will eventually come to the boil and I will want you more than I want my next breath.”
His words did something peculiar to her. Her pussy began to ache. Ache was a strange choice of word, but it was the only way she could describe it.
"How much time do I have?"
"For freedom?" He shrugged again. "I can't say. Already my cock stiffens in your presence. Soon, I imagine. Perhaps you will now understand why I've been terse and why I'm hesitant to go to bed.”
"No, I'd imagine having a hard-on within that metal contraption is like torture.” At the twitch of his lips, she smiled as well. "Why don't you take it off? I'm sure I have some sleep-shirts that would fit you.”
"Sleep-shirts?"
"I go to sleep in them. They're men's shirts and they're far too big for me. Maybe you'd like to try. . . .” Heather broke off and bit her lip. "I just remembered. Your wings. I'm sorry. They probably wouldn't fit.”
From his awkwardly slumped position against the door, he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. His fingers swept over her chin and brushed against her lip, tugging it free from her teeth. "Don't be discomforted.”
"I'm not. I'm just sorry I forgot, that's all.”
"I have to say, you're handling all of this very well.” He grinned at her, but there was a puzzlement to it. "You talk of wings as though you come into contact with them on a daily basis.”
"I won't deny I'm a little lost, Fade. But at the same time, I feel. . . . complete. It sounds weird, because I expected little out of my life. Nothing as major as this. But I guess I've been waiting.” She shook her head, brow puckered as she explained, "It's strange, because throughout my life, I've had dreams. Just like anyone. I just figured they were odd dreams. I'm a pretty creative person and I just thought my imagination was running away with me. But the more I think about it, I wonder if they were scenes from my past. Maybe, subconsciously, I've been waiting for this to happen. I think that's the only thing that could make any sense.”
As he'd worked through the late afternoon and into early evening, the silence between them had encouraged her to think about things she'd always shoved to the back of her mind.
Dreams. Or what had at first been nightmares.
She could recall her auntie May rocking her to sleep at night, when she'd been nothing but a little girl. Heather tried to discuss the nightmares, but May wouldn't let her. Instead, she'd bought her a dream catcher. She'd explained the rules of the contraption to a bewildered but enchanted Heather, who had immediately placed all of her faith into the webbed and befeathered decoration. Time or the dream catcher had transformed her nightmares into dreams. And the dreams had gradually become a part of her sleep. So much so that it was rare for her not to have one and as such, not of any importance in her day to day routine. If she'd seldom had them, then Heather would probably have analyzed the occurrences. As it was, they'd become a part and parcel of her sleep. Something to ignore, rather than puzzle over.
>
"I wonder if you're as ready as you believe yourself to be,” he murmured.
"I don't know and I won't find out until we get to Mearth. I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I guess.”
"Are you ready for the consequences of the bond?"
"Now that, I can categorically answer. No. I'm not, but I'll press on with it regardless.”
"Why? You're willing to have sex with a stranger? You do realize that we will actually have to have sex to bind?" His frown had deepened at her dismissiveness.
"I wonder if I explained it to you, if you'd understand.”
"I doubt it, Heather. You have a peculiar way of thinking.”
"I've never had sex with a man before, Fade.” She wrinkled her nose. "I've had anal sex and oral, but never. . . . you know. . . . I'm a virgin.”
"So shy and so brazen and all at the same time. You are a contrast, Heather. In Mearth, I would expect a woman of your stature to be a virgin, but at the same time, from your reaction, I suppose it is a rarity in this plane?"
"Yeah, you could say that, Fade.”
"That you are willing to experiment bodes well for the future of our relationship.” There was a gleam in his eye that had her whacking his arm with the back of her hand.
"Don't tease.”
"What? I'm not.” He grinned again.
"You are. Mockery is not the best of ways to woo your future wife.” she warned, but laughed a little. "Anyway, I was explaining my situation to you. I've felt arousal before. Of course, I have. I've even been lucky enough to have an orgasm. But there's something about you. I get the feeling that when this mating heat hits you, you won't be alone. Plus, the fact I'm even talking to you about this, is insane. I never talk about sex. But with you, I'm safe. I don't understand it. It doesn't make sense, but then, a lot about today makes no sense. I'm just going to roll with the punches, Fade.”
Dark Throne, The Page 7
