The Hunchback

by Regine Abel

  I swiftly donned my loose garments before stepping around the tree to join Esmeralda. The beaming smile she greeted me with had the most exquisite heat blossoming in the pit of my stomach and spreading throughout my body, but especially in my chest. Sitting on the blue picnic mat, her legs folded on the side, with her reddish-brown hair draped around her, she looked like a wood nymph waiting for her lover.

  How I wish…

  The most delectable-looking spread had been laid out on the mat in front of her, but in a way that only left room for me to sit right next to her. As if to confirm it had been intentional, she patted the mat next to her.

  “I don’t know what you like eating, so I brought a mix of everything,” Esmeralda said.

  “I am not picky,” I said truthfully, “and this is quite a feast.”

  My mouth watered at the sight of fancy cold cuts, cheeses, breads, jams, sautéed potatoes, and sliced hot meats. I didn’t know the name of half of the food in front of me, but it all looked divine. Frollo had not starved me in any way, but he’d never provided me with particularly fancy meals. I usually had a portion of the staff meals set aside for me—although I suspected the cook gave me the leftovers. You didn’t save the finest pieces for a faceless employee no one had ever seen. As I grew older, I’d begun fishing and hunting and now have my pick of the prime pieces instead.

  “Good! Dig in,” Esmeralda said.

  Picking up a warm loaf of multigrain bread, she broke it in half and extended one of them to me. I gratefully took it and imitated her as she slathered some dark blue jam on a piece before eating it. My taste buds nearly had an orgasm when the sweet flavors of blackberries, slightly spiced, invaded my mouth. I realized I’d probably moaned when Esmeralda giggled while staring at me, before tossing a piece of cheese in her mouth.

  Naturally, my two imps parked themselves at the edge of the mat, looking at us with their irresistible big, black, needy eyes. Between two bites, Esmeralda fed them each a little bit of food, further increasing the tender emotions I felt for her.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” I asked. “How did you end up a Vestal?”

  “The same boring way as everyone else, I’m afraid,” she said modestly. “I was born on the Fourth Circle, the only girl and youngest of four siblings. My parents were fairly poor farmers and had hoped for a daughter that would qualify as a Vestal. Did they ever get their wish.”

  I raised a questioning eyebrow, nonetheless relieved at the absence of bitterness or anger in her voice.

  “Every child is tested for ergokinesis at the age of five, both males and females, but we are the ones that really matter,” Esmeralda explained. “If a male shows great potential for power, he would be trained in administration and law to possibly become a Praetor—although energy manipulation isn’t a requirement for that role. But if a girl shows potential, her family receives a first dowry when she is taken to Obscura to begin her Vestal training. We have ten stages to complete in the twenty years of our training, the last one consisting of us being ordained. For each stage, another dowry is paid to our parents, the amount scaled according to our power level.”

  “So the more powerful you are, the more credits your parents receive?” I asked before taking a bite out of a juicy cube of some kind of red meat.

  “Correct,” Esmeralda said with a proud nod. “My dowries have taken my family out of poverty and into a comfortable life. With me being Anointed, my parents received a major bonus which has allowed them to buy additional lands and chattel. And that also enabled them to give each of my brothers a large enough plot of land to raise their own families.”

  “That’s great,” I said, although not quite comfortable with that system.

  “You seem troubled,” she said.

  I hesitated, not wanting to appear judgmental or to make her feel as if I was devaluing her accomplishments.

  “It’s just… Hmmm, how do you feel about that?”

  “I do not feel exploited, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she said in a gentle voice. “And do not feel embarrassed for the thought crossing your mind. It is in fact a topic that surfaced often at the temple on Obscura among us the trainees. Some of my ‘sisters’ felt the dowry should have been set aside for us to enjoy once we’d been ordained. After all, our work was being rewarded.”

  “That is indeed what I was thinking,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “Which is fair. However, we have no use for those credits. Growing up on Obscura, our food and board was provided for,” Esmeralda said, flicking her long hair over her bare shoulder. “And we only wore the uniforms given to us by the Matriarchs. Once we are ordained, the Circle whose invitation we accept pays us a large sign-on sum to spend on whatever we might see fit. But even then, as you can see here, food and lodging is free for us, so we have no real use for credits.”

  “I see what you mean,” I replied pensively.

  And I also could relate. Frollo didn’t pay me wages for my gardening or blacksmithing work. It didn’t bother me since he always provided me with any material things I might need upon request.

  A wistful smile stretched her lips, and her eyes temporarily lost focus as she reminisced about something.

  “It makes me happy knowing that doing what I love also gave my family a chance at the good life we otherwise never would have had,” Esmeralda continued, refocusing on me. “I love my family. We don’t see each other often, but those dowries allowed them to come visit me from time to time, which they couldn’t have afforded otherwise. However, I understand the frustration of some of my Vestal sisters whose parents wasted their dowries on an extravagant lifestyle, well beyond their means, and who today have nothing to show for it. Before we were even ordained, some such parents were hinting that their daughters should continue to support them once they would start receiving their Vestal wages.”

  “I certainly hope your sisters will not,” I said in a harsher tone than I’d intended.

  Esmeralda chuckled, amused to see me so outraged on behalf of women I didn’t know. “I hope not either,” she replied after taking a sip of mulled wine. “I’m just grateful my parents’ wise investment of my dowry has spared me having to face such unpleasantness. But enough about me, I’d love to hear about you.”

  My heart skipped a beat, suddenly feeling self-conscious all over again. Frollo wouldn’t want me to speak to anyone about my past. Then again, he didn’t want me to speak to anyone, which would include everyone but him.

  “There isn’t much to say about me,” I said, squirming slightly under her intense gaze. “I was born in the Godswood. My mother passed away shortly thereafter due to complications with my birth. Had I been a ‘normal’ child, modern medicine would have saved her life, but…” I shrugged, trying to make light of the situation to hide the extent of the guilt I always felt at having ‘killed’ my mother. “I don’t recall much of my youth, except for a cabin in the woods, near a river, and the constant smell of fresh breads and wild berries jam.” I looked down at the almost empty jar of blackberry jam Esmeralda had brought, feeling somewhat embarrassed to have devoured most of it. I pointed at the jar with my index finger. “This reminds me of home. Or at least, of what had felt like home, even though the woman who had raised me there hadn’t been my mother. But she had been kind.”

  “What was her name? And do you think you were related?” Esmeralda asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t know her name. Not her real name, at least. I called her Nan, as per her request. People would come to the house, and I would hide in my room while she traded with them. They called her Old Nan. I didn’t think she was old but... What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly noticing the troubled expression on her face.

  “It’s just… Such an incredible coincidence,” Esmeralda said hesitantly. “A few days ago, I met a merchant in town who told me about a woman named Althea—but commonly referred to as Old Nan—who lived in the woods and made beautiful costumes for the Festival, but mos
tly traded for jams and preserves. I had no idea it was the woman who had raised you! What happened? How did you end up here?”

  “I became sick,” I said glumly. “My condition started manifesting itself when I turned five; or rather, my hump did. Until then, I was a normal boy, running all over the place and being hyperactive. And then, the pain in my back grew more and more with the size of my hump. There were times I couldn’t walk or get up.”

  “How terrible! I’m so sorry,” Esmeralda said with a commiserating look on her beautiful face.

  “It got better with time, in a way,” I said with an ‘it’s okay’ smile. The ease with which I was sharing this with her stunned me. I’d expected to be more self-conscious and embarrassed. “Nan would force me to get up, stretch, and exercise. Although my hump grew bigger, I adapted to its burden and to the way it restricted my movements.”

  “I can only imagine how you might have been permanently crippled without her foresight,” Esmeralda said, a slight frown marring her forehead. “And I’m guessing she couldn’t call a doctor for you?”

  I shook my head. “It would have put both of our lives in jeopardy. For the next couple of years, things were somewhat manageable. However, a month before my eighth birthday, things worsened. I started…”

  The words died in my throat, and I cast a wary look in her direction. I was still ‘pretty’ for now, and would remain so for the next four to ten days to come. This was how I wanted her to see me, always. Should I tell her how ugly I became so early in whatever bond this was forming between us?

  “It’s okay, Kwazeem. You can tell me anything,” she said gently, as if reading my thoughts.

  I swallowed hard and nodded sharply. Delaying the inevitable would only make matters worse. If Esmeralda was going to turn her back on me because of my illness, as much as it would break me, I preferred she did it now than after a week of me misleading her.

  “When my condition acts up,” I said in a slightly shaky voice, “my face and my hands swell disproportionately, and purplish blotches appear on my skin, as if I’d been in a bad fight. The pain in my back becomes pure agony.”

  “Oh, Kwazeem,” Esmeralda said, her delicate palm settling on the back of my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  The same electric coils wrapped over our hands, swirling around our wrists before fading away. Still, Esmeralda’s energy seeped into me, stirring that odd power deep within me. It felt like the Light of the gods themselves had been lit inside my chest. Glorious and mighty, I wanted more of it. And yet, the moment it appeared, a familiar dull throbbing at the base of my hump manifested itself.

  “It’s okay,” I repeated, covering her hand with my other one, both to increase the feel of her and to make sure she wouldn’t pull away just yet. “It’s in the past now. But back then, Nan and I both thought my days were numbered. She didn’t say it, but I knew. For the next few weeks, she kept dosing me with poppy juice to keep me sedated so that I wouldn’t spend my days screaming in pain. And then Frollo came to the cabin.”

  Esmeralda perked up, her stunning green eyes staring intently at me with burning curiosity. I hated that Frollo should have been the cause, but swallowed my jealousy.

  “Most of that time is a blur to me. I was in too much pain and under too much sedation to truly understand what was going on,” I said, gently caressing the back of her hand with my thumb, more to soothe myself than her. “Nan told me a man was working on a solution to help me, but I was too ill to make sense of anything. And then, one day, the pain was gone. My hump was bigger than ever, but the pain was gone. When it started to come back a couple of weeks later, Frollo came back, and continued to do so for the next three months until it was clear my condition would forever be recurring. That’s when Nan said that I would be moving to the capital city to live with Frollo. I’ve been here ever since.”

  I said the last sentence with a shrug to hide the sadness constricting my throat. But that didn’t fool my Esmeralda, who tightened her grip on my hand.

  “Did you ever see Old Nan again?” she asked in a soft voice.

  Not trusting my voice just yet, I shook my head and took in a couple of deep breaths. “The Godswood is too far if you aren’t flying by shuttle. Going there would require me to cross Fallen territory on foot, and busy hunting grounds that would make it impossible for me not to be noticed, even if I traveled at night.” I gazed upon Esmeralda’s beautiful face, her coppery skin glowing under the soft rays of the sun piercing through the leaves of the tree. “Thank you for letting me know she’s still well.”

  “Of course, Kwazeem. I wish I could tell you more. I…” Esmeralda’s eyes suddenly widened as if she’d just remembered something. “Actually…”

  To my chagrin, she pulled her hand from my grasp and reached for the bag which contained the gift she’d brought me. The loveliest pink crept up on Esmeralda’s cheeks as she held the bag timidly in front of her almost like a shield.

  “I saw this in one of the stalls in the marketplace, and it made me think of you. The craftsmanship is so exquisite, I couldn’t help but buy it. Ellen—the merchant—told me Old Nan had made it. So, now it seems all the more predestined that I should have gotten it for you.”

  With a nervous laugh, Esmeralda extended the bag to me. Excitement and worry warred within me. I couldn’t wait to see the gift, but her nervousness made me wonder at its nature. My blood froze at the sight of the life-like face of a Fallen staring back at me. A million thoughts pushed and shoved each other in my mind as I tried to make sense of that present.

  “Is this how you see me?” I asked with tension in my voice. “As a Fallen?”

  As a monster?

  Esmeralda’s gaze lost all nervousness, and she held mine with conviction. “I see you as a stunningly handsome man who happens to be half-human and half-Fallen. I am incredibly drawn to you, and I would love for you to come see me dance and Chant at the Festival in two days. So, I thought this costume fitting because I like you just the way you are, which includes your Fallen genetics. I also happen to think that costume is beautiful. That’s all.”

  Each of her words felt like a balm on a wound I hadn’t known plagued me. And yet, they caused something to snap deep within me; something wild, primal, and famished. Esmeralda’s eyes widening with both shock and a sliver of fear made me realize I’d moved. With a speed that left me dizzy, I grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her off the ground. Next thing I knew, she was standing, her back pressed against the tree, and my lips were claiming hers with brutal possessiveness.

  Esmeralda stiffened, her hands fisting my shirt on my chest with a slight initial pushback. It quickly faded, and she relaxed against me, her arms wrapping around my neck. Too many sensations were crashing upon me to be able to compartmentalize them; the plush warmth of her lips against mine, her sweet and spicy taste laced with the mulled wine she’d drunk, the silkiness of her hair falling over my arms pinning her to the tree, the firm yet soft feel of her body and her full breasts pressing against my chest, and her hands… her divine hands touching me like no one ever has before.

  A deep moan rose from my throat as the searing heat of Esmeralda’s palms slipped under my flowy shirt to touch my skin directly. My abdominal muscles contracted almost painfully as her thumbs gently caressed the sides of my abs. But the exquisite torture didn’t end as her hands roamed up to my chest, until the pads of her thumbs made their way to my nipples. My cock jerked in reaction at the unexpected sensual feel of her fingers circling them.

  Esmeralda’s lips parted, and my tongue invaded her mouth, hungry and demanding despite its clumsiness. My woman’s own lack of experience only fueled my possessiveness and the need to brand her as mine. When my hands slipped under her chest bandeau, reciprocating her touch, Esmeralda moaned against my lips, reawakening that strange power within me.

  Lowering her bandeau, I broke the kiss, and my mouth latched voraciously onto one of her taut nipples. My tongue swirled around its dark brown button, reveling i
n its unusual texture and the salty-sweet taste of her skin. The throaty sound of her voice moaning my name had even more blood rushing to my groin.

  Too drunk with pleasure and desire, hungry for more of the divine power building in my chest—power I could feel myself sucking right out of my woman—I ignored the lancing pain steadily growing in my back.

  With a boldness I’d never believed myself capable of, I slipped my hand under the waist of her skirt, inside her slip, and straight to her burning core. Esmeralda cried out my name, her back arching off the tree, involuntarily pressing her chest to my face as my tongue continued to lave her nipple.

  Despite having never been with a female before, I wasn’t clueless about a woman’s anatomy or how to pleasure one. Perched at the top of the spire for two decades, I’d seen my fair share of naughty action in the streets of Paris, the woods surrounding the temple, and even in the temple gardens themselves, both days and nights.

  But never would I have imagined the silky wetness that greeted me when my fingers explored Esmeralda’s core. The sound of her labored breathing and sighs of pleasure, the way she shivered and gyrated her hips in response to my touch, her feverish hands on me, fisting my hair and clutching one of my horns, had me mad with lust.

  On instinct, I accelerated the movement on my hand massaging the little nub at the apex of her legs. I could feel her begin to crest as her body trembled against mine, and her moans came in louder, shorter bursts. I covered her neck and face with kisses, sucking at her tender flesh, willing her to climax for me.

  And then she did.

  Lightning literally struck between us, electric tendrils writhing all over her body as she cried out in rapture. A massive bolt of power emanating from Esmeralda slammed into me. The blissful sensation reverberated directly in my groin, tearing an orgasm from me. But as I spilled my seed, relieving some of the strain on my cock still confined within my pants, my roar of ecstasy quickly shifted into one of agony.