by Tyler Chase
“Does Warbrenger have any idea of this?” she asked, tracing a finger over the metal nipples of his breastplate.
The corners of Comron’s mouth curled up a tad. “They’re about to. And also that their six trillion in richya has vanished.”
She stopped as the full impact hit her. “Frithes gates, Comron. We have to manage this disclosure carefully, otherwise, the fallout could precipitate a war. That is not how I hoped to begin my reign.”
Comron shook his head. “Warbrenger’s military might isn’t what it once was at the height of the rebellion. They’d require a very powerful ally to challenge Nostrom’s warhorses.”
Vaush cast a rather sly look with those dazzling hazel eyes. “So we offer the Novoxian Imperial Army as ally.”
“That would definitely level the playing field.”
Her brow furrowed as her hand slid down his abdomen. “But then we’re discussing war again. No, I won’t have our empire torn apart by civil war when we need to be preparing for the Murkudahl invasion. Yet, I wish to break the Hrollaugr-Nostrom Hegemony,” she said, placing a hand on her hip and raising her eyes to the ceiling. “We need Thalonius to kneel without shedding blood, the only way he will do that—”
“Is if he felt overwhelmed and vastly outgunned.”
Vaush’s eyes narrowed. “Which he would be if he were up against Warbrenger, Novoxos and,” her brow rose, “the Hinter Worlds.”
As Comron listened and realized the scope of what Vaush was proposing, he suddenly realized he’d underestimated his clever wife and that she would prove to be a formidable empress. How could one person house so many talents? He was awed, but apprehensive about the development.
His sharp tone conveyed his concern, “The sweeping scope of what you’re proposing is quite an undertaking involving several key players that we haven’t yet approached or determined their allegiances.”
Her hands found the clasps on either side of his body armor. “So you’ll expedite the process by using the Chronicle Archives, Comron. Find out what you need to know to lay the groundwork to make this happen.” A demure smile stretched across her full lips. “Look what you’ve already done for the Imperial Treasury with the knowledge you’ve gleaned from the Chronicle Archives. The treasury funds have nearly tripled; before long I will be the wealthiest monarch who ever sat on this throne.”
“Yet, if I don’t slow down, the Imperial Commerce Inquisitor will be knocking at our door on suspicion of securities fraud and violations.”
Vaush tossed her head back, laughing irreverently and Comron wondered if she were getting a little too drunk on her own burgeoning power.
“Let them launch an investigation into my financial affairs. What will they find?” She unclamped the four clasps on his breastplate, then pressed her hands against his chest, backing him up against the wall. “I can’t help it if my private Economics Strategist happens to be an ingenious visionary with uncanny instincts.” Her sultry, hazel-eyed gaze poured over him once more and suddenly he couldn’t remember his point. “You wear this uniform well, my lord husband. I couldn’t take my eyes off you at the coronation ceremony,” her tone grew husky as she helped him remove the heavy armor. “I’ve been waiting for this moment all morning.”
“Vaush ….” His blood quickened as desire shot through him like a blazing arrow. That she could reduce him to this with mere words was maddening and exhilarating all at once.
“I know I’m asking a great deal of you,” she murmured as her hands slid under his tunic, and she raked her nails down his rippled abdomen, “but, armed with the Chronicle Archives, you are my single greatest asset and you will accomplish this task for me.” Her hands slipped down to unfasten his belt and britches. “Yes?”
He nodded eagerly; to what, he didn’t care. He only knew he’d go out of his mind if he didn’t have satisfaction soon. She was so close, her natural scent laced with jasmine-scented soap and exotic spice filled him. He inhaled deeply and essence-enhanced pheromones heightened his arousal, blocking out all else, that is … until her hand slipped down into his underpants and gripped his shaft firmly. Already hard, she stroked him stiff as an iron rod as she continued their discussion.
“You will help me take down the Hegemony and establish my reign. And when it is done, we will announce to the world that you are my husband, Royal Consort to the Empress. No more hiding in this uniform … except maybe when we’re alone in the bedroom, and I want to ravish you.”
He drew Vaush to him, meeting her lips for a slow burn of a kiss. She tasted sweet as honey as his tongue danced with hers, but his need mounted quickly with the need to devour her. Enough of this slow torture! Abruptly, he reversed their positions, forcing her back against the shelf wall. A few items tumbled down in the process, and the bots scurried to pick them up. Indeed, he would do his empress’ bidding but, first, he’d have his reward.
He hoisted her up now breathless with need. Vaush wrapped her firm thighs around his waist and arched her slender neck back as he ran his hungry mouth down the length of it, biting passionately. He squeezed her breasts eliciting a sharp moan from her. His mouth slid down over her heated flesh, took in her nipples, his hot tongue slathered over them and then sucked them ravenously. She raked her nails over his muscular shoulders and down his back, her hips grinded against him, letting him know she was dying for him to be inside her.
He fisted a handful of her hair, pulling her head back. “Tell me what you want,” his tone was demanding and gruff.
“My lord’s hard cock. Please,” she moaned as her hand reached for it.
He twisted his hand into the waistband of her lace underpants and snapped them off with one firm tug. He slipped a hand down between her thighs where his fingers worked, caressing her masterfully. She gasped and rocked against his fingers.
“So wet, sweet wife.”
“At the sound of my husband’s voice ....”
Damn! She knew that talk drove him wild. He grabbed his throbbing cock, lowering it down into the slickness and drove it hard inside her. Her moan was loud and so rewarding. She was so hot inside, her walls tight as a virgin’s. He struggled for control and nearly lost his load when she moaned his name in that throaty sexy voice of hers. Not yet! Not yet! He repeated, forcing himself to calculate exchange rates to bring himself back to a manageable state as he vigorously impaled her against the wall with firm, steady thrusts.
Her hips kept pace with his, her hands gripping his broad shoulders as she gave as good as she got. He grabbed the shelves behind her, anchoring himself for more intense penetration. Her sharp groan racked him with feral gratification, arousing him even further, sending his engorged cock deeper, faster. As he pounded into her with wild, essence-tinged abandon, more items tumbled off the shelves. The bots scurried around them. But he didn’t give a damn if the whole wall fell down. All that mattered was stroking his way toward their ecstasy. Vaush was so close, he could feel her walls clamping tightly around his cock.
Oh … oh, Comron! Hearing her velvety voice projected directly into his mind telepathically at the very moment of her orgasm turned his knees into a gelatinous mass. He collapsed to the floor with Vaush still wrapped around him. His own orgasm crested and broke forth.
Vaush! He cried out as their minds intertwined telepathically and locked fiercely into a unified singularity, allowing them to experience each other’s climax, his powerful orgasm triggering another one in her, hers precipitating yet another one in him. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced, as he rode her savagely, the pleasure kept intensifying building off of each other’s, again and again until the two melded into one long, body-wrenching orgasm that shattered all awareness, plunging them into sweet oblivion.
A cold flash of white light nearly blinded their inner eye.
And now he was spinning through space and time with her, until they found themselves in the Murkudahl’s Chronicle Archives on the Kait home world without the use of the Bramech! They flew through the history he had p
erused and the tangential pages he had not. But there was no longer a time lag; they were viewing real-time history, unfolding before their very eyes. There were no more time restrictions! They could be anywhere, listen to any conversation as it took place in the present! The numerous connections he’d overlooked. He saw so much now—the knowledge, the perception, the cognizance. Now he could clearly see the path he needed to take to achieve their objectives. All had become crystal clear.
The loud knocking drew his attention. He discerned that it wasn’t coming from within. Vaush confirmed this and insisted that they leave the Chronicle Archives.
When he emerged from the state, he was still entangled with Vaush, and she too was rising from the psychic journey. The knocking continued. They exchanged bewildered looks and scramble apart to dress themselves.
“Just a moment!” Vaush said drenched in perspiration as she pulled on a robe and went to the door.
Comron’s head was still spinning as he endeavored to regain his balance and comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened.
“Willikers, Vaush!” came Laney’s exasperated voice. She was already dressed in a dark-blue evening gown. “You’re going to be late for the coronation ball. What were you—?” She caught sight of Comron reassembling his uniform. She rolled her dark brown eyes, “Kriten on a cracker, the ball begins in less than an hour. Do you think you two can keep your hands off each other until then?”
“One hour! You’ve got to be kidding,” Vaush said frantically. “All right. We’ll be ready. I promise.”
Comron stared back in silence. What in hell’s gates had they done? More importantly, could they duplicate the experience?
Chapter 6
The exquisite coronation ball took place that evening at the Lion Palace. Despite Spira’s petulant demands that Comron escort her to the gala event, he humbly attended alone in the ranks of the Praetorian Guard to spare Vaush the pain of seeing another woman on his arm, despite the fact that he’d have to stand in the shadows while dozens of adoring men flocked around Vaush. In truth, he was never more than a few meters away, as members of the nobility lined up for the opportunity to greet their new sovereign. Whether they loved her or hated her mattered not tonight, all were transfixed by the radiant beauty and splendor of the Empress.
Comron still reverberated from the other-worldly experience they’d shared in the dressing room. Could the experience be duplicated at will or was it an aberration? The vast swathes of critical knowledge that could be processed in real-time were simply mind boggling and too rich an opportunity for Comron to pass up. They would definitely attempt the feat again. Would it incur the wrath of the Kait? So far, they’d heard nothing from Chaiyse regarding their impromptu visit.
The orchestra struck up the opening waltz. As was the custom, Empress Vaush took the floor first escorted by Imperial Chancellor Trin Zhang, Arch Duke of Hirosaki. Courtesy of the Chronicle Archives, they now knew that Hirosaki was not Trin’s true place of origin, but rather Shinzhao of the Hinter Worlds. More importantly, that’s where his true loyalties lay. He would make an excellent ambassador to the Shinzhao. Comron had instructed Vaush to approach him about the matter very soon.
As the evening wore on, Comron was repeatedly forced to look the other way as the young men of the Great Houses each took turns leading the empress onto the ballroom floor, touching her hand and narrow waist as they twirled her gracefully across the ballroom floor. But, when an upbeat tempo cut through the air announcing the start of the more sultry Stalata, his eyes immediately fixed upon Vaush, wondering who dared ask for her hand for this dance number. To no one’s great surprise, Drefort’s fair-haired son, Prince Phineas, approached. Comron’s jaw clenched when Vaush accepted his arm. Why hadn’t she politely declined? No one would’ve faulted her for that!
Though the ballroom was soon filled with handsome couples brilliantly executing the moves of the fiery number, all eyes were upon the empress and Phineas as they moved fluidly around each other, ever so close, bodies moving in unison, but never touching. The movements were subtly reminiscent of the ones reserved for the intimacy of lovers … some of the ones she’d used earlier on him in the dressing room.
Incensed beyond comprehension, Comron’s hands clenched into fists, his legs tensed with the urge to storm out onto the floor and drag Vaush out of Phineas’ clutches.
It’s just a dance; they’re not even touching, for Frith’s sake! Comron tried to reason with himself but, as he continued to watch the two move like seasoned lovers, the rage mounted inexplicably in him to the point he thought he’d burst if he didn’t race over and rip Phin’s spine out through his skull. And finally, when Phin moved a breath too close to Vaush’s backside, hardly leaving any room between them, Comron was unable to restrain himself any longer. He sprang forward but Yaeger clapped a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“It’s not worth blowing your cover,” Yaeger said in a quiet controlled voice. “It’ll be over in a minute. Why don’t you go get some fresh air and cool off.”
At that moment, the dancing couples repelled from one another, the females forming a line on one side, their partners on the other. They continued the seductive dance at a less provocative distance. The dance was always a great crowd pleaser, and tonight proved to be no exception as the onlookers clapped to the rhythm, encouraging the dancers.
When it finally ended, Vaush excused herself and went out onto the terrace to cool off in the crisp night air. Comron was instantly upon her.
“What the hell was that?” he said, whipping his helmet off to look her dead in the eyes.
Vaush glanced back at the glass doors, hoping they hadn’t drawn unwanted attention. Yaeger stood guard. Laney, adorned as a lady-in-waiting, stood nearby as well.
“Calm down, Comron,” she replied tight-lipped. “It’s all part of the plan, remember? I’m just going through the motions.”
“Those motions,” he jabbed a finger back at the ballroom, “were completely unnecessary. You could have declined, if not for my sake then for your own dignity. I won’t tolerate this sort of thing, Vaush.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “We agreed to make it appear that House Dredfort had the lead with me, did we not? To have declined Phin, particularly on that dance, would have sent the wrong signal. If you’d think it through clearly, you’d see that.”
Taking a long deep breath, Comron recalibrated his emotions. “I do, but you crossed the lines of propriety. I mean, you were practically—”
“Comron!” she said in a stern voice.
“What? It’s true and you—”
“Phin moves like a man caught in the grips of a violent spasm attack. How could you possibly be jealous over that performance? Now if he moved with the same seductive confidence as you …,” she grinned naughtily, “that would be something to see red over.”
Her potent allure started to do its work on him, but he shook the nonsense from his head. “Listen, Vaush. No more dancing the Stalata, ever!”
She inclined her head and pouted. “Not even with my handsome husband, later tonight,” she whispered. “I thought we’d try the naked version.”
The mere thought of that nearly undid him, especially since naked Stalata could lead back to real-time Archive raids.
“Now, do try to behave yourself,” she said in a more serious tone. “We’ve far more pressing matters to discuss. I’ve noticed that the Hegemony’s favorite attack dog, General Grusonious Hrollaugr is prowling about.”
“Yes, I’ve glimpsed him scowling at you on a number of occasions. Considering all he stands to lose with you in power, he’ll be more dangerous than ever. Definitely someone to chronicle.”
“Meanwhile, I’ll attempt to make conversation with Lord Ahmed. We should invite him to the Lion Palace soon and see just how serious he is about opening the energy trade in non-richya-backed currencies.”
At that moment, the distinct call of a nightingale caught their attention.
“That’s
Laney’s signal,” Vaush said anxiously. “Put your helmet back on, someone’s coming!”
Vaush stepped back out into the light, smoothing her gown just as Prince Phineas Dredfort strode out onto the balcony. His face was still flush contrasting against his blond eyebrows and trimmed beard. “Your Highness, I’d hoped I’d find you here.”
“Prince Dredfort, I was just on my way back in,” Vaush said, giving Phin little opportunity to conjure any romantic overtures.
He grinned, his sparkling blue eyes narrowed. “Giving up on me so soon? I didn’t want to appear too eager.”
“No, I meant,” Vaush shook her head flustered and glanced at Comron in the shadows. “I meant that I don’t wish to be rude to my guests, so I should go back inside now.”
“Oh, a few minutes away is to be expected,” he said as he drew near to her. “You are a marvelous dancer. Your brand of Stalata was,” Phin lowered his eyes diffidently, “particularly stimulating.”
She looked away. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
He leaned in a little closer. “Please, call me Phin.”
“After your paternal grandfather, right?” Vaush said, endeavoring to keep the subject on a neutral topic.
His eyes lit up. “You’ve been studying me. I’m flattered.”
Vaush cut him a bleak smile. “Prince Khale Warbrenger is named after his maternal grandfather, Prince Bran Khobell after his paternal grandfather and Daubert Westfall after his great, great grandfather. Shall I go on?”
His expression fell.
“Forgive me, everyone is so new to me, my staff does their best to provide me with as much background detail as possible.” He still appeared crestfallen. “Though, I must admit, I did spend more time on some profiles than others,” she said, letting her gaze linger upon him.
“Ah, I see,” he said, his confidence restored. “I hope you were pleased with what you learned.”
