“Oh…” I made a sound somewhere between a moan of arousal and one of despair. All my emotions were crashing together these days, the barriers between lust and love, fear and loss, escape and duty—everything was tightening around me.
“Don’t tell me to stop,” Augustus grunted.
“Oh, I know better than to stop you when you’re making that face.”
He fucked me like it was the last time he’d ever have me. I suppose we were all feeling the walls closing in.
Soon I was making wrenching little sounds as my body pulsed and clenched around him. Axel walked closer to me, standing over us, his cock hard and his lower lip jutting out a little, making me imagine giving it a soft bite before kissing him. He had already taken off his shirt and jacket, folding them on one of the wooden chairs in our cottage, and my eyes raked over the faint scars on his skin before I had to shut them. I lost myself in the hot wet sensation of Augustus’ desire.
“Axel…” When it was over, I could think straight again and I clutched my head. “I’m getting scared that maybe it’s impossible for you both to take the spell. Magic is always like that, isn’t it? One spell. One terrible choice. It’s never just…easy.”
“We did defeat the Cobblestone Witch’s spell once,” Augustus said. “After all, you were supposed to fall under her curse years ago. This is just a precaution. We might never need to share a dream.”
I had already been very tired when we began and I was even more exhausted after the burst of arousal and intense climax. I could see in Axel’s eyes that he wanted to fuck me now, but I simply couldn’t keep my eyes open, and I ended up falling asleep, aware only of Augustus and Axel’s hands brushing tenderly over my hair and the curve of my hip.
The darkness swallowed me, and I was walking in a dream. It was the evening of a full moon. I walked through the halls of the Palace of the Sun, seeing many familiar faces, servants and courtiers, but I wondered where Augustus and Axel were.
In the Hall of Mirrors, Josef was watching some dancers, his hand waving, keeping time with the music. He turned to me and smiled.
“Josef, where is…”
Josef crumbled away, into dust.
“Josef?” I rushed toward him and now there was no trace of him as he seemed to melt away on the wind.
“Josef!” I had a terrible feeling.
Every servant and courtier seemed to fade now, dissolving at the edges of my vision, so when I looked one way and then the other, before long they were all gone.
“Augustus? Axel?” If I could just find them, then the rest of it didn’t matter. They were my world. I ran down the empty Hall of Mirrors, the candles burning, catching the tiny jewels sewn into my gown. I heard no response.
A hand suddenly clutched at my breast, lifting it, and suddenly I was naked. The real world slammed back into me as I woke with Axel behind me, his cock deep inside my already tender body as Augustus drew my nipple into his mouth, his tongue tracing circles around one and then the other. I was trapped between them now, and for a moment I was disoriented and frightened even as my body was even more aroused than it was the last time. I could hear my own wetness as Axel fucked me relentlessly.
This time we hadn’t planned it and my mouth opened to ask what was happening.
“I insisted,” Augustus said. “I told Axel to take the second dose. I thought maybe the trouble was that you knew it was coming. Maybe we needed to surprise you.”
“It didn’t work…” My heart fluttered with distress but once again, I was too overwhelmed with the moment at hand to fully care. Right now, the world was Axel. Axel’s hands crushing my breasts, holding me closely, loosing his passion onto me. I could feel that he and his love for me were real with every long, deep stroke of him, so deep that it hurt. But I craved that hurt. They saved me from that terrible dream. They would never turn to dust. Augustus and Axel were working in concert to bring me pleasure so overwhelming that I was helpless to resist.
Soon, I was coming again, in a pulsating rhythm that started with Axel’s cock inside me but rippled through my entire body. They caught me between them, Axel kissing me leisurely as he came, while I made a low keening sound.
“Shh.” Axel gently caressed my hair again. “Sorry to give you such an awakening, my lady…although not entirely sorry.”
“You should be sorry,” I said. “That’s twice now that the spell has failed. We only have one more chance.”
“I know,” Augustus said.
“You won’t try it again tonight, will you?”
“I don’t think we’ll tell you when we’ll try it again. Could be tonight. Could be tomorrow. But the next time—it will have to work. I don’t want you worrying over it when you fall asleep.”
As if I could help it.
The anticipation of their love making in the midst of my dreams was as torturous as anything. I was used to doing whatever Augustus asked of me, but I couldn’t control my own sleep.
The next day, they refused to touch me while I was awake. “Not until the last drop of the spell has been consumed,” Augustus said, and very quickly I grew hungry for them, especially since every night in the Wicked Revels I saw lovers being teased and tempted, half naked bodies dancing joyfully under the moonlight, and each one of them made me think of something I wanted done to me.
But I also knew this was our last chance to make the spell work. And whether it worked or it didn’t, I would have to go to the Cobblestone Witch, before she killed any more of my dearest friends.
Chapter Nineteen
Interlude
The Cobblestone Witch had been anticipating her moment for decades now. She had dreamed of destroying the royal family, seizing their power, and giving it back to the people.
The result was predictable to Merry and to anyone else who had read many books on the subject of power. He had long suspected the Witch was not quite a stable person to have in charge. Once she had snatched the power and the city was following her, she was not so quick to give it up.
The result was uglier by the day. Lord Merdon’s execution was only the beginning. A few fat faery nobles were dragged out of their hiding places and killed while the crowd jeered at them for what seemed a horrible greediness in this winter of famine. But skin and bones wouldn’t save you either, as some tiny faery women with jewels in their hair were torn apart before they even reached the execution grounds.
And then there was Madame Bertin. The dressmaker was obviously a target, being the one who created the queen’s magnificent gowns. She was a stubborn woman who kept her head down. All Madame Bertin had ever wanted was to work.
Allies of the queen urged her to leave.
“I have gowns to finish for the queen,” she said. “The orders are already in and I always fulfill my orders.”
It was only a matter of time before she was caught and questioned, and then brought to the courtyard for her execution. Her shop was raided, flowers and mushrooms and leaves scattered in the snow outside—all the ephemeral things that had adorned her gowns. When they heard that she had died, the flower garden that raised flowers for the royal dresses shut their doors for good and left that very day.
Anyone who was not blinded by their anger realized that the heart of Ellurine would stop beating forever if this went on much longer.
Still, it could have been much worse, because Merry saved a number of them with the magical tricks he had learned from his father, and Jeanne helped him. The Witch was particularly incensed when she thought she had caught the Queen’s best friend Louisa only to find that it was a straw doll when the carriage door was opened. The Witch was still searching for the queen’s friends.
Jeanne’s own magic was growing, bit by bit, and she felt ashamed of her own part in the ugly turn this had taken. She sensed what a thing of great power Merry had put in her care. The golden scarf was so potent with magic that Jeanne couldn’t help but take it out and run it through her fingers. If the Witch knew she had it, she would snatch it up for herself, an
d Merry had given it to Jeanne.
He must see something in me that is good, Jeanne thought. He’s risking his life to save these people. He is a much better person than I am.
To be trusted can have a powerful effect on the right person, and so perhaps Merry’s greatest skill was seeing that she was not evil at heart.
The Witch had not always been evil at heart either. There was a time when all she wanted was to save the lives of hungry and sick children. But less and less did she consider her original mission now.
Jeanne had never liked nor understood Countess Noria, even though Noria had helped her out of dislike for the little human queen, and when Noria was caught, the Witch danced around her, jeering.
“You did this yourself. That’s the beauty of it all! You were your own downfall, and do you know why? It was because you hated the little human queen so much that you would rather die than help her! And so you shall! You will make one final ride and it will be to your death. Jeanne, can you see that she is changed into the rags that will suit her spirit better?”
The old woman was bearing her fate as quietly as she could. She was from a great house, and seemed resolved to die with dignity.
The same words could have been said to Jeanne herself, and she felt nauseous at the sight. Where was Merry?
But maybe it was too late. She had learned that his magic worked best when no one was looking. Once caught, he couldn’t save them.
“Madame du Bariel…” Noria took the plain linen shift Jeanne offered her. “You are still helping this woman. I heard you have become a witch yourself.”
“We were both complicit, you and I,” Jeanne said, with pangs of guilt. “Who would’ve known it would end this way? I thought she was a friend of the people. Of the whores like me. Anyway, you never liked me at all, so I have no sympathy for you now.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Countess Noria said primly. “We do have some things in common. So perhaps this is a fitting fate.”
But it wasn’t quite true that Jeanne felt no sympathy at all. She was starting to realize that life had a way of twisting a person in a web from which it was hard to escape. Who was she to judge the countess? Watching the older woman shed her fine gown and replacing it with the linen, which wasn’t even all that clean, Jeanne knew she was watching someone’s dignity being shattered and it seemed cruel and unnecessary.
Countess Noria’s hands shook a little as she turned to Jeanne. “I suppose I should put my hair down. My hairstyle is in such disarray…”
A matron like Countess Noria would never wear her hair down in the palace.
“I’ll help you arrange it, if you like,” Jeanne said.
“That is a great kindness,” Noria said, with a small curtsey.
Both of them were restrained with each other and barely said a word as Jeanne took her hair out of the disheveled pins and rearranged it into an elegant twist, every hair in place.
“I will not be afraid,” Countess Noria said, as if to herself. “Death comes to us all. Maybe I deserve all of this. Gods, be kind to me…”
Merry didn’t save her. And I must, above all, make sure I save the queen.
But the queen hasn’t shown up. What if she decides to stay in the Wicked Revels forever?
Jeanne was shaking all over. How many more deaths could she bear to watch?
“I—I have something that might save you. If you take this scarf and hide it under your clothes, it has strong protective magic. It’ll whisk you away before you are killed.”
“You would help me?” Countess Noria’s head snapped back. “But…you know that I tried to get the king to send you away.”
“I know,” Jeanne said. “But I am finding all of this hard to stomach. You and your family have had a powerful influence on the court. I’ll give it to you if you promise me two things. One, that you will use your influence to help the people, and two, that you will return the scarf to me as quickly as possible. I have more people I must save.”
Noria looked shocked to be receiving this kindness from the woman she had always thought of as the king’s whore. “Yes. Yes, Madame, I will do both of these things!”
Jeanne gave over the scarf, and walked out to take her place beside the witch as Noria was led out to be executed. She still looked very frightened. The crowds tossed rotten food at her. She tried to hold her head high but once her skull was pushed down onto the block it no longer mattered.
What if this doesn’t work?
Before the executioner’s blade came down on her head, she disappeared.
“Where did she go?” the Witch cried. “Who is responsible for this?” The crowd erupted in fury for not getting to see Countess Noria die. The roaring seemed closer and closer and louder and louder. “Did you see anything strange, Jeanne? Do you know anything about this?”
“No,” Jeanne said, but the Witch gripped her arm so tight it hurt.
“Have you forgotten what we’re fighting for? Have you forgotten all the starving people who have asked us for help over the years? The indulgences of these royals?”
“You have forgotten!” Jeanne cried. “All I wanted was to better the lives of women like me, women who were used and sneered at. Yes, Noria was one of the women who sneered, but now you’re no better than her. You aren’t helping anyone, but only taking pleasure in punishment. No one is feeding on your victim’s corpses!” She turned to the crowd. “The Cobblestone Witch doesn’t really care if you live or die!”
“Guards! Seize Madame du Bariel under suspicion of abetting the escape of Countess Noria!”
Jeanne tried to run into the crowds, which was the only place she could go, but they were as dangerous as the guards themselves, shoving her and screaming in her face.
Jeanne tried to cast a spell, but her training had been mostly in crafting potions and tinctures, not the sort of magic that was any good now.
“Ain’t you a pretty one?” A dirty hand with nails like claws grabbed hers, and she tried to wrestle away, but the old man dragged her through the crowd. His cloak and hat were ragged, and the more she fought, the more his nails dug into her. He yanked her past the crowd, knocking them out of the way with a walking stick. He got her to a carriage that was waiting in an alley. Inside, a woman was huddling under a black cloak.
“Countess Noria!” Jeanne hissed. She looked back at the man who had saved her and the illusion fell away. “Merry…”
“You think I don’t know when you’re using the magic my own father spun?” he asked. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I didn’t want to watch this woman be killed in the square like a rabid dog.”
“You saved my life,” Countess Noria said.
“So…we have the scarf back,” Jeanne said hopefully, but Merry still looked furious.
“And now I have no way of getting close to the witch! We had one chance to trick her. Now you’ve opposed her publicly. Your kindness is admirable, but…Countess Noria? I didn’t think you would crumple before the nobles that never liked you anyway.” He tossed a cloak around her head and lifted her onto the rickety seat of the carriage beside him. “Do you realize that this is a complete disaster?” He snapped the reins, his half-goblin face especially hideous in its anger. The shabby-looking horses were surprisingly fast, and even though he was angry at her, Jeanne was just glad someone was taking her away from this place.
“I didn’t know if the queen would ever come,” Jeanne said. “I’ve stood at the witch’s side for days and days, watching her execute people who never saw it coming. I just couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“If you can’t stand it, you could speak out.”
She looked at him, rubbing her hands together. “Merry, every day I stood there, I felt like I was letting it happen, but…they won’t listen to me. Why didn’t you save Noria before it came to this?”
“You don’t think I would if I could?” he shouted. “I might be powerful, but I am only one person. She’s gotten the whole damn city caught up i
n it.”
“Mm…” Jeanne crossed her arms. The wind was cold, especially with the movement of the carriage down a larger street. “Why did you say I was a pretty one when you grabbed me?”
“That was part of the act so I didn’t look like I was saving you,” he said. “Of course. There are some things about you that aren’t very pretty at all.”
So, you’re not as smitten with me as I thought, Jeanne said.
She actually found she preferred it that way.
Chapter Twenty
Augustus
When she fell asleep, the mood changed. The air became charged.
This was our chance, and we both understood that. Axel would not take the potion, so we had already failed. This was the last dose.
“I’m at peace with my fate,” Axel said. “I know I might live the rest of my life without her. But to live any part of my life with her is more than most men would have. If she is put to sleep, I can’t let her century of dreams be spent alone. You will take the spell, and you will succeed. Just knowing that the two of you are still together will bring me some peace. Enough to go on.”
“No pressure, eh?” I gave him a grim smile.
I didn’t want to live without him either.
Once again, she slept naked, her body ready for me, her skin bearing the gentle scent of wildflowers, and the earthier musk between her legs, the ever-present desire. I took a moment to cherish her presence and Axel’s, to remember all the forbidden delights we shared in the Lady’s Treat. This, right here, was all I needed to be happy. Axel. Rose. The vision in the Waters of Truth danced in my mind as I trailed a finger down her sex.
I looked at him. “I don’t want to give this up without a fight. I was brought up a prince, not a mage. But part of magic comes from will, and if this is our last chance, then I am determined to make that dream we all saw come true. I’m not letting you go. You are of just as much value to us as we are to each other, and we don’t want to live without you.” And with that, I dropped the last dose in my mouth.
The Surrender of Sleeping Beauty Page 37
