“Ah. So, you’re the bastard who ordered my daughter’s abduction, as well as those of my realm,” Diane spoke tartly, her eyes narrowing. “I hope you get kicked in the head by a horse and die.”
Ulvian blinked, then chuckled, grinning at her for a moment. He seemed amused as he spoke. “I see that you’re rather direct, Lady Diane. I can appreciate that. However, I intend to live a long, healthy life. At least for a human.”
Jaine was quivering under Diane’s arm, and Diane gave her a gentle hug again as she glared at him for a moment, then asked icily, “Good for you. Well, now what, since you’ve forced me to give myself up to you?”
“First, we’re going back to the palace, where you will be given a pair of lovely rooms in a nicer wing of the palace. You will each be fitted with a bracelet that tracks where you are to prevent your escape, but aside from that, you will be given a fair amount of freedom. Why, you’ll even be given an allowance and allowed to go on shopping trips in the city,” Ulvian told them, smiling as he gestured for them to follow him. “There are only three things you are required to do, aside from staying where you are instructed to, of course. Cooperate and things will go quite well for you.”
“I’m certain you think that. And what would these requirements be?” Diane asked, guiding Jaine forward as the soldiers closed in around them. “Or do you intend to keep them secret?”
“Oh, no! I wouldn’t do something that foolish. The requirements are fairly simple.” Ulvian’s reply was quick, and he chuckled again. “First, you’re required to attend all services at the new temple of Tyria. Second, you must attend dinner or state functions with me when requested… which will be every night, unless I change plans. Of course, you must also be on your best behavior. And last, you must permit a healer to check on you and attend to you weekly. Any of these can be given leeway if you are ill or such… though the last would be unlikely. I think they are relatively reasonable.”
“Of course you would think they were reasonable,” Diane shot back, frowning to herself. She fought internally for a moment before grudgingly admitting, “Though they don’t seem too egregious. I have not heard of Tyria, on the other hand.”
They stepped out of the teleportation hub and into the street, and Diane flinched at the sights and sounds of the city. The streets were paved in cobblestones and the buildings were largely masonry, stretching as far as she could see in any direction. The faint scent of seawater came from the east, and the skyline was crowded with buildings. Diane had seen human cities before, but this was among the largest she’d ever seen. In front of their group was a carriage and another platoon of soldiers, waiting with horses.
Ulvian politely opened the carriage and waited for the two of them to enter and take a seat on the plush cushions before entering himself, sitting across from them comfortably. As the carriage started to move, he spoke again. “Tyria only recently revealed herself to High Priestess Elissa. She is a goddess of fire, passion, and slaves… which I think appropriate in Kelvanis.”
“You…!” Diane’s anger spiked for a moment, but she took a breath, then let it out slowly. Finally she asked, “I assume that we don’t have to convert, at least.”
“Correct. Jaine? Are you well? You haven’t said a word since we met,” Ulvian asked, seeming honestly concerned.
“I… I’m scared of being here,” Jaine mumbled, leaning into Diane, staring at him in confusion. Diane realized that his easy manner was pushing her daughter off-balance, and frowned. It wasn’t like she could warn her in front of him. Worse yet, the man’s friendly personality seemed natural, which must make him even more effective at putting people at ease.
“Well, I hope you settle in soon. I have been looking forward to seeing you both as guests,” the Archon replied with an easy smile. “As long as you don’t violate my rules, you’ll be fine.”
“Why did you even want us, then?” Jaine asked before Diane could speak.
Ulvian blinked, then tilted his head and asked, slightly bemused, “Do you want the honest answer?”
“Of course I do!” Jaine replied, seeming startled as she gestured around them. “I don’t want to be here! I want to be back home with my mother and father! You took that away from me, why?”
“Hmm. As direct as your mother, I see. I approve!” Ulvian laughed, smiling as he shrugged and told her happily, “Quite honestly, you’re both trophies. Those inside Kelvanis will see what we’ve managed to do, and other neighboring nations will hesitate to act against us. I see no real downsides to capturing the pair of you.”
“That’s because you are an evil bastard,” Diane hissed, as Jaine’s eyes went huge.
“Think what you like,” Ulvian told her indulgently, smiling. “Ah, that’s the cathedral of Tyria to our right! It used to be a different temple, so it’s undergoing some renovations as the donations come in.”
Neither replied, though Diane did look at the building, with all of the scaffolding around it. It was a large temple, and the deity that it was supposedly dedicated to concerned her. But she shrugged, sitting back and giving Jaine a comforting hug. It was only a minute later that they entered the palace, and as they did so, Diane frowned.
The imposing edifice of stone looked almost impregnable, with most surfaces of its exterior covered in engraved spells to help reinforce the stonework. Guards patrolled the walls, and the palace itself was squat and gloomy looking. The building was nothing like her open, airy palace in Yisara, and a small part of Diane felt like it died at the thought of being trapped in such an enclosed, claustrophobic building.
Unfortunately, she had no other choice, and the carriage slowed as it came to a stop in the courtyard in front of the palace. Ulvian smiled as he exited, holding out a hand politely. “Let me help you down, and we can have lunch before you get a tour. Then we can find you your rooms and maids, hmm?”
Diane gritted her teeth, then took his hand.
“And here are your rooms, ladies. A full bathhouse and restroom is at your disposal at the end of the halls, and the other rooms are unoccupied at present,” Ulvian explained, hours later and after an excruciating dinner. Nodding to a pair of human women, he added, “These are Maria and Meredith. They’re sisters, and are your maids. They will help you with any request within reason.”
The wing they’d been brought into only had a single set of double doors for an exit, and a thick series of rugs covered the stone floor. Lanterns provided light in the late evening, and there were three doors on either side of the hallway, with a single one at the far end of the hall. Guards stood outside the exit to the hall, which gave Diane a quite clear idea that they were viewed as prisoners, even if the simple gold bracelet wrapped seamlessly around her left wrist didn’t.
Maria and Meredith were both typical women from Kelvanis, with similar facial features and body types. They had dark, curly hair to their shoulders, dark eyes, and stood a little taller than Diane or Jaine did, with the curvier figures of humans. Their skin was a bit paler, and both wore black blouses and long black skirts that left their midriffs exposed. Diane and Jaine had quickly realized that this was typical of slaves, as all the others they’d seen wore clothing that exposed their brands, from a number of male servers and footmen to other maids and servants. Maria and Meredith didn’t have the usual black brands, each instead branded with the pink, almost floral crests of courtesans.
“And what is within reason?” Diane asked, eying them warily. The different brand made her suspicious.
Ulvian chuckled again, smiling as he nodded at them. “So long as it doesn’t involve attempting to hurt yourselves, sabotaging Kelvanis, or escaping, they’re at your disposal. Please don’t make them hurt themselves, though. It took some time to find maids that I felt were up to serving royalty, or even former royalty.”
“Why in all the gods would we hurt them?” Jaine asked, looking horrified. “That’s just… just…”
“Some people enjoy that sort of thing, I’m afraid, Lady Jaine. Now, if you’ll e
xcuse me, I have my own bed calling for me,” the Archon replied, bowing his head slightly before turning to leave them in the hallway.
“So, what can we expect from you two?” Diane asked after a moment, studying the pair, frowning slightly.
“I am Maria, and was commanded to serve as your maid, Lady Diane,” one of them spoke softly, bowing her head slightly. “As to what I am to do? I am tasked with serving your every need. I have a small chamber attached to your bedroom that I may better serve you, and be available at every hour. I have no other tasks.”
Her sister, Meredith, nodded politely, her voice a bit stronger as she spoke. “And I am commanded to serve Lady Jaine as her maid.”
“I see. Well, I wish to go to bed. It has been an upsetting, exhausting day,” Diane told Maria, glancing over at Jaine.
“I think I want a bath. Do the baths need to be heated, or are they persistent?” Jaine asked, seeming a little nervous as she looked at Meredith, but less so than when the Archon had been present. Diane noticed her eyes darting down to the slave brand and back again, and suppressed a sigh. She honestly couldn’t blame her daughter for the morbid fascination with the brands, though.
“The baths are large enough for a dozen people to use at once, and are heated via magic,” Maria explained, smiling slightly before she gestured to the left. “Your room is this way, my lady.”
“Good night, Jaine. I’ll see you in the morning,” Diane told her daughter, then scowled at the maid as she followed her to the room. “And I am not your lady, Maria.”
“Good night, mother,” Jaine replied, and followed Meredith as the maid led her to her own room.
“What would you prefer that I call you, my lady?” Maria asked, opening the door for Diane.
“Diane. Simply Diane,” the former monarch replied, looking around the room. It wasn’t anything too impressive or too simple. There was good carpeting on the floor, decent rugs and pictures, and the solid furniture common to humans. The bed looked comfortable enough, a massive four-poster piece that was larger than she needed, but which wouldn’t be too much amiss. She didn’t bother looking in the wardrobe or closet, and frowned slightly as she asked, “Are there any nightgowns for me?”
“There are, but they will likely be a touch large, Diane,” Maria told her, closing the door and moving to the wardrobe. “I was instructed to have new clothing ordered on the morrow after the seamstress visits.”
“I suppose that will suffice for now,” Diane replied, then paused a moment before her voice softened. “My… apologies for my manners, Maria, but I find my situation quite upsetting. I do have one thing I wish you to make certain of. I do not wish to be taken unawares, so no one else is to be allowed into my rooms unless you have ensured that I am awake.”
“I can understand your feelings, Diane. I may not be in your exact position, but few choose to become slaves willingly either,” Maria acknowledged, folding her hands as she nodded to a door to the side of the entrance as she opened the wardrobe. “Those are my chambers, so you are aware. I will do as you ask, though.”
“Good. Now then, I need some sleep and a chance to recover.” Diane sighed, rubbing her temples to fight off her headache.
Pulling out a nightgown that was just a bit too long, Maria nodded and smiled. “As you wish.”
“We’ve received the soldiers who were in the dungeon, Ulvian,” Decira, one of the succubi of his lady reported in the midst of the massage. “What would you like us to do with them?”
“Hmm… that feels wonderful, Decira,” the Archon replied happily, a smile on his face. “Let me see… well, I would like the five of you to wring them dry of any information they can provide about the dungeon or its inhabitants.”
“Certainly.” Decira purred happily, her massage intensifying. “What about once they’ve been fully plumbed of information?”
“At that point, I have no need of them. Don’t worry about turning them, either,” Ulvian replied comfortably, groaning for a moment before adding, “And… make sure they can’t talk about what happened. Do what you want, otherwise.”
“We’d be delighted!” the succubus replied, happiness in her voice. “None of us have been able to feed properly since we got here.”
“I’ll try to fix that,” Ulvian murmured, closing his eyes. “Who’s dealing with the elves, anyway?”
“Wenris. She won the draw.” Decira’s voice was grumpy, but only slightly. “Still, she’s also the most experienced at a proper corruption, so I really shouldn’t complain.”
“Excellent. We’ll just leave it in her expert hands, and let the rest of you relax.” The Archon grinned, adding, “Now, I need to sleep, and you have soldiers to interrogate.”
“Indeed. Good night, Lord Archon.” The demoness chuckled, then got up to leave Ulvian to his sleep.
Diane fell asleep almost unnaturally quickly in the bed. In fact, there was very little natural about it, as the enchantments carved into the bed performed their work. Moments later, a soft glow surrounded Diane’s head as another set of enchantments activated as well.
Blinking as she overcame her disorientation, Diane looked around herself in confusion.
She was sitting in a chair under her favorite gazebo in the Royal Gardens of Yisara, a full set of tea on the table in front of her. The sun was bright, illuminating the gardens and making the afternoon scene seem positively idyllic. There were only two problems with it. First, she’d just barely gone to sleep, and second, the woman who was sitting across from her didn’t belong there.
The woman stood out like a sore thumb. She was wearing little more than a set of straps across her chest and a thong, and she had raven-black hair and crimson eyes that had slit pupils like a snake. Her body was ridiculously shaped, almost but not quite stepping across the line from lush to horrifying, and her face made Diane feel even more plain than normal. But what was truly disturbing about the woman were the pair of dark, bat-like wings on her back, the small, thumb-length black horns jutting up from her hairline, and the slowly lashing tail behind her. Well, that, and the look of boredom on the woman’s face. It was almost as an afterthought that Diane noticed the crimson brand, similar to a slave brand, on the demon’s stomach. It was starkly visible against the woman’s pale skin.
“Hello, Diane. It’s nice to meet you, and I can just tell that we’re going to be wonderful friends,” the demon purred in a sultry tone, but there was something half-hearted about it.
“I don’t think that we are. What are you doing in my dreams, succubus? Leave, now!” Diane retorted angrily, her eyes narrowing.
At her reply, the succubus sat upright abruptly, her eyebrows rising and the boredom vanishing without a trace. “What? You’re fully aware? How is that possible?”
The demon reached out and tried to grab Diane’s hand, only to have her fingers stop, as if pressing against a bubble that extended an inch from Diane’s skin. The demon smiled as she murmured. “Ah! You have powerful mental shields. I was told you had little magical talent. Interesting.”
“Get away from me!” Diane spat, yanking her hand away from the demon and glowering at her, though internally she was feeling triumphant. It was all but a state secret that her family line possessed a variety of unique magical talents. Beryl had her lightning speed and strength, Jaine had the ability to heal wounds with a touch, and Diane had mental shields that allowed her to shrug off almost any mental attack unless she allowed it in. Obviously, that would make this much easier for her to resist whatever the demon was trying to do.
“Hmm… I could, but that would hardly be to your benefit, Diane,” the demoness replied, sitting back in her chair and smiling indulgently. “I am called Wenris. The question I have for you is, how good are you at acting?”
“Why does that matter?” Diane asked, glowering at the demon as she stood and stepped away from the table. “And why won’t you leave me alone? You can’t do anything to me!”
“Ah, it matters immensely. The question is whether or
not you want to be branded rather than play along with me?” Wenris told Diane, smiling broadly. “Because if I just left, that’s what would happen to you.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Diane asked, frowning. “I can act, even if I don’t like to do it. But what does that have to do with any of this?”
“I’m here on the Archon’s behalf, Diane. I’ve been tasked with slowly brainwashing you to his desires, but if it turns out that I can’t do anything, well… I will have to tell him that I failed. And at that point he will simply resort to far more direct methods,” Wenris replied, smiling thinly. “That’s why I asked how well you could act. Because I’m not going to risk a bargain if you couldn’t hide it well enough.”
“He… oh, that lying, scheming, limp-dicked bastard!” Diane started slowly, but her exclamation ended in an irate yell. “I want to strangle him!”
“He’s hardly limp-dicked, but the rest I can agree with,” Wenris commented in amusement, smiling broadly as she watched the elf.
“You…!” Diane took a deep breath, then closed her eyes to count to ten. Any demon could hardly be trusted, but she sincerely doubted that the demoness was lying about this. So she took a few moments to collect herself before calming down and asking, gritting her teeth internally. “What is it that you wanted to offer?”
“My instructions are quite clear. I’m to try to brainwash you and your daughter. You are to become more… willing to allow your appearance to be permanently changed, sexually more permissive, and to become faithful followers of Tyria. More so, he wants you submissive and searching for a proper master, preferably being him,” Wenris told her with precision, looking at Diane critically. “He knows that such brainwashing is an imprecise art, normally performed over decades, so he doesn’t expect instant results. However, the nature of how I serve him means I must try, no matter how much I may dislike it.”
Diane was about to explode again, but the look in the demon’s eyes made her pause. She suspected that if she did so, she would lose any chance of a bargain, which might be bad. Very bad. So instead, she calmed herself and sat down, suppressing her anger as she put on the mask that she had worn as queen. “Unpleasant. And your offer?”
Spells of Old (Ancient Dreams Book 2) Page 24
