The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI
Page 15
“Quite—, quite lovely,” Aesa stammered.
“Turn around.”
It was a command, and the Empress was not used to being commanded, but still, she turned, as if lacking any will of her own. She started to speak, trying to raise some indignation at the impropriety, but she was unable to, and Melusine stopped her short.
“You will not speak.”
The indignation should have flourished, but still Aesa obeyed, almost fearfully. This woman possessed some power over her that was alarming.
“In fact,” Melusine said, “you’re going to remain completely silent.”
And with that, the woman pushed her fully into the alcove and against the wall, her firm breasts so improperly pressed against her. And she bent down and captured Aesa’s mouth in a brutal, hungry kiss that was scandalous and terrifying and exactly what Aesa wanted her to do. And Aesa was helpless, lacking any will to resist and a growing desire for her to do more. And Melusine complied, bending slightly to hike the Empress’ skirt over her own knee while her hand dove under the tented folds to find the silk panties and what treasures were contained within. Aesa moaned as the hand stroked the softness there and Melusine smiled at the dampness she found.
“Shhh,” Melusine commanded, and muffled the moan with her kiss, and Aesa was desperate to comply for the guards were only a short distance away. But that monstrous, wonderful hand had taken control of her and her hips moved with an abandon that Aesa would have associated only with the town harlots. She pressed against the woman and those stroking fingers, and Melusine held her with a strength that was astounding. It was not long before her body released and the woman muffled her cry with another fierce kiss that Aesa never wanted to end.
And then Melusine released her, straightening and smoothing the Empress’ skirt in a manner that was both aloof and possessive. She examined the flushed features in front of her, reached some sort of conclusion that Aesa could not decipher, but one that resulted in a slight smile of triumph, then the woman simply disappeared.
The Empress stalked about her chambers. She had dismissed her handmaidens at once, certain her infidelity was written on her face. Her servants had noted her state of extreme agitation and wondered if her illness was worsening. But they left her to pace her chambers like a trapped animal.
What had that been? By the gods, what had gotten into her? She loved her husband. Granted, it was more the love one would feel for a kindly father figure than for a romantic partner, but she was the Empress and had duties, responsibilities, and loyalties that went back generations. She had an infant son, for divine’s sake, one that even now lie in his crib pining for his mother.
Aesa whirled about. She would have that woman banished, exiled. But no sooner had this thought entered her head then two more quickly followed. How in the world would she explain this sudden peculiarity? This unprompted eccentricity? And why did the thought fill her with such despair?
She went to the window, looked out at nothing, then grasped the curtains and yanked them closed. She felt exposed and claustrophobic all at the same time. She wrung her hands, clenched them together until her knuckles were white, then at last collapsed onto her settee in tears.
It was several days before the Empress emerged from her chambers, and the Emperor commented on his concern for his wife’s health to his staff. She had been so fragile he had feared losing her in childbirth, but now he felt he was losing her in ways he did not understand. There were no rumors about her, other than those regarding her strange, restless misery. He had even queried Melusine, whom he had grown to trust unreservedly in a very short time, and she had assured him of his wife’s fidelity and love.
Aesa sat upon the throne uneasily, her eyes flitting now and then to the robed woman who moved amongst the nobles with ease. She acted as if nothing had happened, and her manner was so casual and unaffected that Aesa began to wonder if the whole thing had been a dream. But every once in a while, with timing that was preternatural, for it was always concealed from her husband and all others, the woman would glance to the Empress with a smoldering, possessive gaze that indicated she found the situation entertaining. And Aesa’s heart would flutter, her mouth would go dry, and she would look elsewhere, anywhere but at the woman who moved amongst the most powerful figures in Arianthem as if they were sheep.
The young woman trembled when the advisor approached the throne, but she paid Aesa no mind, and engaged solely with the Emperor, leaving the Empress both relieved and fuming until the woman departed. She watched Melusine with a mixture of dread and jealous longing, scrutinizing her every interaction. Finally Aesa could take it no more and excused herself from her formal obligations, and her husband watched her depart, visibly saddened that his young wife was so distressed.
Aesa tossed and turned in her bed. Sleep was no longer any solace, for her dreams were stalked by a hauntingly beautiful woman who toyed with, then discarded her. So she lie staring up at the gilded ceiling as the shadows lengthened and the moon cast a cool blue light on her floor through the window.
“Your husband worries about you.”
The Empress sat up in bed. She did not think she had been sleeping, but she must have dosed off because the door did not open and yet Melusine was at the foot of her bed. She clasped the sheet to her breast, for she wore only a thin camisole, a defensive move the advisor observed with disdain.
“He sent me here hoping I could provide a tincture or tonic for you.”
The irony of having her husband send Melusine to her was almost too much for Aesa, and she felt a little hysterical. She fought the sensation and steadied her voice.
“And do you have one?”
Melusine observed this bit of pluck with more favor, and moved to the side of the bed, sending another whirlwind of discordant emotions through Aesa.
“I do,” Melusine said, removing a small bottle from her robe. She sat down on the edge of the bed and unscrewed the lid of the container. “Here, taste.”
Aesa hesitated, for Melusine dipped her own finger in the mixture and held it up to Aesa. Aesa paused only a moment, though, and leaned forward and placed her lips upon the finger and the ointment. Melusine was pleased with the boldness.
“It tastes like mint.”
“Yes,” Melusine said, pressing the Empress backward down into the bed. “It does. But for you to get its full effect, I’m going to have to consume it.”
“I don’t underst—.”
But Aesa did suddenly understand when Melusine took the ointment on her fingers and slipped her hand inside the camisole to massage the breast. The nipple sprang to life and Melusine pushed the camisole aside so her mouth could cover it, her tongue playfully toying with the flesh and licking the mint from the skin. She was as attentive to the other, massaging it, licking, suckling, even biting it as Aesa arched beneath her. And as she toyed with the breasts, her hand found more ointment, then found the throbbing between the Empress’ legs, and the two met in firm contact that made Aesa half moan and half sob with desire. But Melusine was relentless and her lips and tongue traveled downward to find the mint between her thighs and Aesa was lost to a carnal act she had only heard of in scandalous rumor. Melusine licked, caressed and suckled just as she had done with the breast, except when she bit, it was lightly on the inner thigh as the tiny nub that now seemed the center of Aesa’s being was so sensitive it could sustain only the feathering of lips. It was outrageous and indecent and felt better than anything she had felt in her entire life. And when the lips returned to what had become Aesa’s core, her breathing increased until she was panting, then stopped as her body shuddered and shook, then at last was still.
The Empress gazed down at the dark-eyed woman, who seemed engrossed in the bruise she had created on her inner thigh. Melusine kissed it gently, and came away with a small amount of blood which she licked from her lips. Those dark eyes flicked up to her, magnetic and terrifying.
“Almost as if you were a virgin,” she said, “and I just broke you.”
It was a bizarre sexual statement, one as intriguing, enigmatic, and petrifying as the woman herself. Then, as if nothing at all had transpired between them, Melusine stood up, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, then turned to leave.
“But—“
“Your ointment is on the nightstand,” Melusine said, interrupting her. “I must go.”
And Aesa was left staring at an empty room, so stunned by the events it barely registered that, once again, the door neither opened nor closed with the woman’s departure.
Aesa stalked the castle. She had again hidden in her chambers for several days, but upon emergence, exited with a vigor that had many talking. It seemed the young Empress was taking some kind of inventory, for she combed every room, every nook and every cranny of the structure, and many thought she must be planning a remodel in the infant prince’s honor. The Emperor vocally hoped this was true and he surely would support the endeavor with the imperial coffer. Aesa even deigned to spend time in his court, her eyes moving about the crowd with a lively interest that he observed with pleasure.
“And what happened to your advisor?” Aesa said in a bored tone. “You seemed quite bewitched by her.”
The Emperor turned to his young wife in surprise. Was that what this had been about?
“I assure you, my love, I am bewitched by no one but you.”
His tender protestation merely irritated Aesa as she waited for an answer.
“Melusine has been working on a project, buried in the bowels of the castle where she chooses to stay. I offered her the choicest of chambers, yet she prefers her solitude in the basement. She is quite an odd creature, but the court loves her, and I have found her invaluable.”
“The basement? How strange. But isn’t the basement a dungeon?”
“Most of it, yes. But the north quarter was once dedicated to housing troops and still is set up as chambers. They are crude, but from what I’ve seen, Melusine little values wealth and luxury. She insists she is quite content down there, and wishes only her privacy.”
“I see,” the Empress said.
Aesa grew silent, so the Emperor decided to press forward with a conversation he had desired to have for a fortnight. He put his hand on his wife’s knee and leaned toward her to whisper.
“Since you are feeling so much better, my love, do you think you might come to my bed tonight?”
The hand felt like an iron weight her leg, but not as heavy as the one on her heart. When she spoke, her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears.
“I fear I’m getting a headache, my dear. Perhaps tomorrow night? I’m sure I will feel much better then.”
The Emperor was disappointed, but he would not press the issue. Much longer, and he would invoke his husbandly right. But he did wish for his young wife to be healthy.
“Very well, my love. Tomorrow.”
Aesa retired to her room and the tedium of the day was endless. She could not pass through the castle unnoticed by day, and even at night she was likely to be seen. So she stole into her handmaiden’s room, the small chamber adjacent to her own, and took a dress, an apron, and a hooded cloak. They were rough garments, the clothes her servant wore outside the castle walls, but they would serve Aesa’s purposes perfectly.
She waited until late in the night, when she was certain even the libertines of the court were fast asleep, and crept from her room, clothed like her servant. She found her way to the basement without incident, passing guards who merely nodded, thinking her one of the array of minions who worked around the clock to keep the castle running. Once at the steps to the vast cellar, however, her nerve faltered. She had never been below the main level, and if she became lost, she could not explain why she was there. But she steeled herself, both anger and desire driving her on, and started downward.
It was simple to avoid the dungeons, less simple to find her way through the maze of passageways that threaded the troop quarters. The lantern she carried flickered, and she cried out, fearful of being trapped in the darkness. But the light steadied and so did she, and she carried on. Finally, she saw a room ahead with a light shining beneath the door, and it did not occur to her to wonder why this woman was awake, or why Aesa knew she would not find her sleeping.
She did not knock, but rather opened the door which was unlocked. Melusine looked up from a concoction she was mixing, neither surprised nor apparently pleased to see her. She glanced at the rough-hewn disguise with mild scorn.
“You should not be here.”
“And yet I am,” Aesa said defiantly.
Melusine stood upright from her vials and tubes, examining the Empress. Although she did not seem pleased to see Aesa, she did not seem displeased. Rather her look was impassive with an air of inevitability.
“And why are you here?”
“Because you draw me like some pathetic little moth to a flame. You burn my wings then send me away.”
“Would you rather I pulled them off?”
The threat took Aesa’s breath away; she was not used to being spoken to in such a manner.
“Perhaps it would be better.”
This brought a slight smile to those beautiful, haunting lips.
“You should be careful what you wish for.”
Melusine’s air changed to one of contemplation, one possessing even more of the sense of the inescapability of the events transpiring.
“Come here.”
It was a command, not a request, and as always, Aesa was compelled to obey. She stood before the woman, feeling frail and vulnerable next to that voluptuous frame. Melusine loosened the sash on her robe and it fell open, revealing that she was naked beneath. The Empress gasped, for although the skin was pale, it was darker than hers, and the breasts were large and topped with dark red aureoles, so different from her pale, small, pinkness. Her eyes went to the flat, firm stomach, then to the patch of dark hair so artfully groomed to a single strip, something Aesa had never seen before. It was beautiful.
“On your knees, Empress,” Melusine said in languorous command.
Aesa slowly kneeled before her, and Melusine guided her unresisting head between her legs. Aesa was timid at first, for she had no idea what she was doing, but contrary to her expectation, both the taste and smell were pleasant. She kissed that mysterious place first, then more boldly began to explore with her mouth.
Melusine looked up at the ceiling, for the girl was far better than she expected. Indeed, the Empress was approaching the act with an enthusiasm that was extraordinary. And even more astonishing, Melusine felt the stirrings of a response within her, and slowly began to move her hips in sync as her breathing increased to keep pace with that tongue.
“That’s right,” she said with slight encouragement.
And Aesa was encouraged, for she felt the stirrings of the response and felt empowered as well. So empowered that she wrapped her arms about Melusine and pressed her back until she was against the near wall. The act excited the woman, for her hips began to move more as her breathing quickened further. This was most unexpected and rare for her, and perhaps it was the thought that it was the Empress of the House of Farlein going down on her, but she realized she was actually going to come in that beautiful little rosebud of a mouth.
“Yes. Yes,” Melusine murmured, barely able to get the words out. The tongue worked, the lips feathered, and in an unscripted flash of inspiration, Aesa thrust her fingers up inside the woman, pushing her right into her climax. And Melusine gasped and grasped Aesa’s head, riding the mouth, the lips, and the fingers, completely uninhibited. And for Aesa, it was glorious as she wrung every ounce of orgasm from the woman she kneeled before.
Melusine was again staring up at the ceiling, her nipples still hard as her body relaxed. And as she stared up at the ceiling, she sighed, for the oth
er hunger stirred, always so interrelated with the first. Both so sexual. It was appropriate that orgasm was often referred to as “the small death.” She looked down into the Empress’ eyes.
“Well, that complicates things.”
And before Aesa could interpret the strange statement, Melusine lifted her bodily from the floor with a strength that was not human and shoved her against the wall. Aesa dangled from the grip, her toes brushing the floor as the woman held her seemingly without effort. And then she bit her on the neck, a violent but passionate act that was both painful and erotic. It hurt, but the pain felt good to Aesa and she wrapped her legs about Melusine who facilitated the position by holding her in place. And as Melusine drained the life from the Empress, Aesa no longer cared and moved her hips against that lean stomach so that she would climax one more time before she died. And she did, again and again as her blood flowed into the vampyr, and the only thing that stopped the waves of pleasure was that her body gave out for lack of blood to rush to that core of being between her legs.
Melusine held the Empress who now dangled in her grasp, still seated upon her like a sleeping child. And she pulled away from the wall, still carrying her with no more effort than one would carry a child. And she laid her down upon the cot, then stretched out on top of her until the eyes fluttered open. The Empress was very pale, and her voice was very weak.
“You are a vampyr.”
“I am,” the woman said. “My name is not Melusine. It is Pernilla.”
Aesa’s eyes drifted over the woman’s features, examining that haunting loveliness as if committing it to memory.
“I am the Head of the Shadow Guild,” Pernilla said, “the upper echelon of all assassins in Arianthem.”
“And why are you here?” Aesa asked softly, somehow not even caring. She was very near death and her lack of blood was making her lethargic. It was not an unpleasant feeling.