by Elle Cross
She leans over and kisses my cheeks, first one, then the other.
While nibbling my ear, she whispers hotly. "I wanted to fuck you right there in the middle of those vines." She leans back and tugs up the skirt of her dress. Her naked sex glistens with unspent desire. "See what you've done to me? I need your mouth on me. Now."
She doesn't wait for me to fight against her geas. She brings the full force of her will behind the compulsion.
I bury my face between her legs, licking and sucking her clit as she demands, piercing her sex with my tongue.
She tears her bodice apart, and leads my hands, aching and bloody, to cover her breasts.
I knead them in my palms as I lap up her slit.
"Faster!" she commands. "Faster!" The first of many lashes of her whip rains onto my back.
She thrusts her hips against me as she grinds out her release. My hands squeeze her breasts tight as she arches against me in a swoon.
For hours, she commands me to sate her lust repeatedly, demanding more from me each time. She refuses to let me come, tormenting my painful erection as she rides me. Her hands circle my throat as she nears her climax again and begins to squeeze.
My vision narrows into twin pinpoints of light, and the last thing I see is Acanthe's joyous face filled with pleasure as I slip away into blessed unconsciousness.
I wake in my chambers with my limbs restrained to the bed. I pull on them, but there’s no give.
My adjoining bathroom door opens and Acanthe strides out, the light behind her casting her in an elegant silhouette. “Oh good, you’re awake. Perfect timing.”
Panic tightens my chest. I don’t think I can survive another round of what she considers sex.
The bed dips as she perches at its edge. “I need to follow up on some pesky rituals. That high priest and his minions can be so demanding. I can’t wait until I can get rid of the lot of them. Anyway, it sounds like this will take most of the day, which is just as well. You can rest before the coronation ceremony and have plenty of time to get ready.”
My impotent rage can barely be contained by my neutral mask. “And what is the meaning of these restraints, Your Majesty?”
Acanthe stands and kisses my forehead. “Why, so you’ll be here for me at my disposal. Plus, it will ensure that your wandering will be...contained. Oh, and if you somehow do manage to free yourself, and you’re tempted to seek out the companionship of another queen, say, the Queen of Stars, I forbid it. You are not allowed in her presence.”
Glittering malice shines in her eyes. It confirms my suspicions that the chaos in her mind might have leaked some of the thoughts and memories that we shared when it offered me power. I need Acanthe to change her words, give me leeway.
Queen Sitara is the only one who can help me, and I cannot be banned from her. Not yet. Not until I can persuade her to help me. “She is invited to your coronation. I don’t see how I can avoid being in the same place that she is. Unless you want me to skip the ceremony, of course.”
Acanthe weighs my words, and though she is still suspicious, she relents. “Fine. You may only interact with the Queen of Stars with the full view of the court as witness.” She wags her finger at me as if scolding a misbehaving pet.
As soon as she leaves, I pull against the restraints. I am so weak, but I don’t want to close my eyes. Not yet. I can’t give in to rest until I’ve found a way to communicate with the Court of Stars.
Suddenly, the restraints loosen and then disappear altogether.
“Your lordship?” Ailis appears at the foot of the bet. “You should be free now.”
I stare dumbly at my unbound hands. “Ailis, I don’t know how to repay you.”
“You don’t. It is I who needed to repay you. Twice you’ve kept me from redcaps, and this is my second time to do a deed for you to balance the scales.”
“You’re getting the short end of the stick.”
She shrugs. “Not from where I’m standing.”
It makes me wonder what the redcaps have done to her. “Well, let me say this to make sure we are well and truly even, Ailis of the Plains. If you are able, leave this court as soon as you can. It’ll be hard with the sluagh gathered at the borders, but I would chance facing them before staying here with the Mad Queen. Be gone before the new sovereign is recognized.”
She tilts her head at me in acknowledgment. “Small folk know how to stay hidden. Be safe, your lordship.” She winks away.
I get up, body full of pain, but marshal my strength to push past it. I need to get to Sitara as soon as I can and persuade her to help me.
But first, I need to bathe the filth of Acanthe’s touch off of me. Preferably with fire.
I get around the geas that Acanthe placed on me to prevent me from seeing Sitara.
It was quite simple really. The geas says that I can only be in the same room with her in full view of the court as witness. It doesn't say which court.
I bang on her door.
Her chief advisor answers. I instantly want to punch him in the face.
"Yes?" he says in a pinched voice that matches his nose and eyes.
"I seek audience with your queen."
"Oh? And why would this honor be granted to the likes of you?"
I merely look at him and let the weight of my gaze be answer enough. "Because the likes of me eats the likes of you for breakfast. And after the day I’ve had, I've worked up quite an appetite." I don't wait for an invitation, but muscle my way through. If he thinks he can stand in my way while I do, well, that’s on him.
He gulps and scurries away, calling out in the general direction of the inner chambers that her majesty has company.
A minute later, Sitara comes out, her wild, galaxy-hair bound loosely at the nape of her neck. She wears a slip of a dress that leaves next-to-nothing to the imagination. I suspect it’s as much a tool as anything else.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"
She snorts. "That's a lie. You don't care if you interrupt anything at all.” She tosses her head and leans casually against her door frame. “You do strike me as a selfish bastard." She says this with a little smile on her face that makes me instantly hard.
Damn this bitch.
"Well, someone didn't get as thoroughly fucked as she needed to be. We'll circle back on that in a minute, but first, and you gotta be real with me: When are you planning on leaving?"
"You must be joking. One, I don't have to be real with you at all, especially given that you’re Acanthe's creature. Second, I leave when I want to leave and not a moment sooner or later. And third, I was fucked quite well, thank you. My dour mood has everything to do with you and nothing to do with the man who brought me pleasure for eight hours straight." She arches a brow at me and I have to fight the urge to laugh.
"Fair enough. What if I tell you that if you try to leave, you will die? And I mean true death, not that weird kind of sleep-death that we all can wake up from. "
She crosses her arms over her chest. It makes the neckline on one side of her gown drag down a little bit so that I can almost see her areola.
"If you were to tell me that, then I would respond, theoretically, of course, that we may be planning on leaving today, after the formal coronation ceremony."
"Don't you find it odd that of all the courts that managed to come here and pay their respects, the ones that stayed away were the oldest courts in the realm? Isn’t that interesting?"
She shoots a look at one of her courtiers. The electricity that arcs between them is a very palpable and not-so-subtle ‘I told you so.’ "Go on."
The geas doesn’t allow me to reveal anything that Acanthe told me directly, but I sure as hell can let Sitara know that there are other ways out of the court.
I stalk closer to her. Slowly enough that she can step back and get space between us if she wants it. Her guards move in, waiting for the smallest sign from her to stop my approach. For her part, she doesn’t call on them. She doesn’t move an inch or bother leaning back to look me in
the eye. All she does is lounge against the doorway and stare stubbornly forward.
"What if I tell you that there are other ways out of this court?"
"I would say I’m listening."
"Theoretically, I can show you the different passageways that this court hides, and perhaps one of them will be the one you need to get outside the barriers."
"And how exactly would I get this private tour?"
I smile then, a slow smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes, but causes the pulse on her neck to beat faster. "You will just need to pick up one little, tiny thing. Without it, we're all screwed."
I can almost hear the gears in her head turning. "What would I need to acquire?"
I lean down, way down, my lips so close to her ear that I’m surprised we weren't touching. "The stone that Acanthe carries on her scepter."
Chapter Twelve
Sitara
The moment Raze leaves, I gather my attendants. “Start packing. Now,” I order.
The man may speak in riddles, but one thing is clear enough. We have a single chance to get out of this mess alive. Whatever Acanthe is planning, it’s sure to be fatal. Which means I need a plan of my own. One that ensures Raze will both trust and help me.
I find Florizel and draw him next to the fountain in my antechamber, hoping the sound might drown out our conversation to anyone who might be observing.
“Go to the stables under the pretense of checking the carriage. I don’t care what you say you’re there to do—check the wheels, feed the stags, look for a missing cloak—just make it believable. While you’re there, find Flitter and tell her that our party leaves tonight, and not by conventional means. She may join us in the palace if she so chooses, or she may find her own way with the animals. The choice is hers. Tell her to set the stellerae free if she opts to come with us. I will not leave them trapped in this place. Perhaps she can communicate with them well enough to tell them to return home.”
He bows and sweeps out of the room.
I nod to Lyser and make my way to my personal chamber. I need to dress and arm myself.
“My queen,” Lyser whispers, once we’re sequestered.
“Lyser,” I say. “Do you know anything about stealing a scepter?”
He shrugs, his face bland. “I think it’s a smash-and-grab.”
“As do I. But I need to figure out exactly how and when to do it and still get us all out of here in one piece.”
“You trust that mage’s word?”
I snort. “Not in the slightest. But his plan is our best bet. Our options are slim, Lyser, and if it comes down to combat, we won’t stand a chance. She’s found a way around the hospitality laws. Cunning is our only hope now.”
I frown, drumming my nails. “It’s not the scepter that bothers me. It’s what’s on top of it.” Something I noticed when I first greeted the queen. “Did you see?”
He shakes his head. It’s not surprising. I might not have noticed myself, if I hadn’t been trained for it my entire life.
“Her scepter is topped with a star stone. And not just a decorative one. One that’s being used.”
He stares at me and I nod, confirming what I can read on his face.
“I know. She shouldn’t be able to wield it. She shouldn’t even have it. Star stones belong to my family alone. I have no idea how she got it, and I sure as hell don’t know why Raze needs me to steal it, but I do know it shouldn’t be here. We’ll be reclaiming what’s rightfully mine.”
“Do you intend to give it to the mage?”
I chew my lip. “I’m not sure. It depends on why he wants it. It’s not that I need it, because I have plenty of my own. It’s just...it feels so wrong to see it in this court. Like walking into an orphanage and finding one of your children living there. It belongs with me.”
Lyser nods and we let the subject drop, resuming our preparations. But the stone remains at the forefront of my thoughts.
When Florizel returns—with a slight nod in my direction, indicating mission success—I gather my entire entourage except Flitter. I explain to them that we will be leaving tonight with barely a moment’s notice and that they must be ready.
My attendants have already packed our belongings and gathered them in the main antechamber.
I speak in a low voice, hoping we won’t be overheard. I’m fairly certain that the presence I’ve felt watching me is Raze, but I can’t be certain. And even if I could, I don’t want him listening in. “We leave this court tonight. I doubt that we will exit as we arrived. Most of what has been brought here will be left behind.” I gesture to our packages. “Collect what is most valuable, what can be carried on your person. Bring it with you. Leave the rest. And be prepared for anything.”
I follow my own advice, gathering gems and weapons, making sure everyone does the same.
Unsurprisingly, King Bramb’s funeral is barely worth a pixie’s notice in this court. Not that there was any real doubt, but Acanthe proved to us all that the whole thing was merely a pretense to gather us for her coronation...and for whatever else she has up her black gauntlet sleeves. Two courts have already vanished completely, and a third made a hasty exit this last night, though I don’t think they managed to get far.
The entire castle has been engulfed by a thorn forest, and I have no doubt that it is patrolled by guards I have no interest in meeting. It’s obvious Acanthe doesn’t want anyone leaving before she claims her crown, and possibly not after that, either.
Well. To hell with that.
The funeral, such as it was, was held this morning, in what passes for a chapel in this nightmare court. Bramb’s body, already decaying, was splayed upon a bier like an offering to the darkest of gods. Acanthe was utterly unmoved, as still as one of the twisted sculptures in the courtyard as the palace high priest read from some ancient text, bidding farewell to Bramb’s eternal essence or some such thing.
To be honest, I didn’t pay much attention until Acanthe stood, cut off the priest, and declared the funeral over. No one protested.
It seems King Bramb is not missed by anyone at all.
Now my entourage and I are waiting, biding our time. I’m still wearing the crimson spider-silk gown I chose for the funeral; the star stone still hangs heavy at my breast. I summon my handmaids to help me shift my look—just slightly—to one more appropriate for a coronation.
“Kalina, Thistle, please help me with my hair.” I wore it in a simple, low bun for the funeral, but now I have them wind it up into something far more elaborate, all braids and twists and beads. I choose a crown that matches, though it isn’t one of my favorites. The base is burnished gold, with small filigreed peaks that rise up in neat intervals. It’s inlaid with rubies and garnets that glisten like blood with the light hits them. It’s a tad bulkier than I’d like, particularly when I’m about to be dashing through the palace in a mad bid for escape, but it creates an impression both regal and dangerous, which is precisely what I want.
Once I’m ready, I assemble my people in an antechamber. I’ve already briefed them on what will happen, but it doesn’t hurt to make certain they are equipped for what is to come. “Are you all prepared? Any questions about the plan?”
No one says anything, which makes me suspicious.
“I’ll go over it one more time, just in case. We will enter the throne room at the last possible moment and sit as close to Acanthe as possible. I suspect no other court will be eager to be near her, so I don’t anticipate a problem with that.
“At my signal—remember to shield your eyes—we will move as one. The Dark Mage Raze will clear a path for us and lead us to safety. It is imperative to move swiftly and follow his instructions. Otherwise, you will be left behind to fend for yourself. Is everyone clear on this?”
They all nod their heads, even Galog and his dour minions. They may not approve of my plan, but they’re not stupid enough to get trapped here. We’ve all heard the rumor that one of the missing courts was in fact murdered after some sort of gaping
pit appeared in their quarters. No one wants to face a similar fate.
“Good. We wait here until the chimes begin.”
I reach down and pick up a pebble from the corner. I had feared I might not find anything to suit my needs, but certain aspects of this castle are like a rotten garden; you never know when you might find a stone or a thorn or a flesh-eating flower.
I run my hand over the stone, whispering a quick enchantment. It’s a simple spell, one used for celebrations at home. A brief iridescent glow flashes over it and then fades, signaling that the spell is active.
When I release the pebble during coronation, it will unleash a flare of glittering stars that will rain over the court. It will appear festive—and also provide me with the cover I need to steal the stone.
I took another glance at the Thorn Scepter during the funeral. I don’t know what it looked like before, but Raze said it transformed to suit its new queen. In its current incarnation, it’s smooth black wood with sharp spines that jut out from the handle in a sort of ascending circle. The stone itself floats at the top, suspended in an orb of some kind.
It’s the sphere that has me worried. If I need magic to break through the barrier, we’ll be in trouble. For one, I won’t have time for anything more than the most basic incantation. For another, I’m still lacking in magical power. Sure, I can cast a glamour or enchant a rock, but breaking the protective barrier on another royal’s scepter?
Unlikely.
I pace, mentally going over my plan, until chimes toll throughout the castle.
This is it: We’re being summoned to the coronation.
I glance at my people, making sure they’re ready. For the most part, they seem trepidatious, which is understandable. But I trust that they will follow my lead.
The chime rings again, and then a third time. That’s our signal.
“Come on,” I say. “It’s time to go.”
I march into the throne room via a side entrance with as much stately grace as I can muster. As anticipated, the front row is empty, so I lead my procession to it and we take our seats.
