Two Thousand Years

by M. Dalto

  “I had to have them take the waist out for the obvious reasons. I do prefer a tighter corset, but I suppose this look will have to do.” He stood in the door of the wash room, amused.

  He was always lingering in doorways.

  She glanced back over to him. “Are you at least going to let me get dressed in peace?”

  “That’s not very fun now, is it?”

  “No.” She sighed. “Don’t you think it would make the dress’ big reveal all the more enjoyable?”

  He considered that for a moment. “Perhaps you’re right,” he shrugged. “Fine, Empress, I’ll give you your moment of privacy. I have my own preparations to attend to. The mage outside your door will let you know when the celebration shall commence.

  He began to walk towards the door but paused and turned to face her.

  “Oh, and Alexstrayna?”

  He made a detour to step in front of her, grabbing her chin and making her eyes meet his.

  “Don’t keep me waiting.”

  43

  The hardest part was finding somewhere to hide her knife. She didn’t wear any undergarments, nor did she have a garter to wear underneath her skirts. She could have stored it within her cleavage, but it just wouldn’t sit right, and having the hilt protruding from her bust would cause questions to be asked.

  She resigned herself to keep it within the room with the rest of her belongings—sometimes leaving a weapon in plain sight was the best place to hide it.

  The Key, however, remained with her. She did her best to pile her hair on the top of her head, and secured it tightly with the delicate hair comb. By her calculations and monitoring the moon when she could, she knew the time to act was now. Though it hadn’t yet been a day, she could not wait to go home.

  Giving the fireplace one final glance as she solidified her plan, she knocked on the door to let the mage know when she was ready, and he silently brought her down the hall to the castle’s grand ballroom. It amazed her that something so architecturally pleasing could reside in a castle so dark, and for a moment she wondered if Reylor had constructed it himself. It oddly resembled the ballroom of the palace, brightened by candelabras and lighted sconces, with high ceilings and arched windows. Within the center was an elaborate dining table lined with course after course of delectable foods.

  If the celebration was hosted by anyone else, she might have been impressed.

  Reylor was waiting for her by the door, dressed in garb finer than what suited him. If she didn’t hate him so much she might have given him a compliment. She hesitated when he offered his arm.

  “Are we going to have this battle every time I offer you chivalry?” He glared at her and she relented for the moment, taking his arm as he brought her to her seat at one end of the table.

  It appeared as though the celebration in question was no more than a dinner to be shared between the two of them. If nothing else, he believed he’d be able to wine and dine her to gain her affections and confidence. Lucky for her and her current state, she would not be participating in the wine portion of dinner, but she definitely dined. Reylor, on the other hand, seemed more than happy to consume what wine she didn’t drink.

  It was not until midway through their meal that either spoke. Alex was content with the silence while she ate. It felt as though it has been days since her last meal. Reylor, though, was eager to attempt conversation while she focused on the food before her.

  “That dress looks wonderful on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you enjoying your meal?”

  “Mmhmm…”

  “You really should have some wine.”

  “No, I shouldn’t, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Suit yourself, Empress.” He finished yet another glass before leaning back in his chair. “So, when are you going to tell me why you were sneaking around the Borderlands?”

  She looked up at him, rather startled. She painfully swallowed the morsel in her mouth, afraid of choking otherwise, and put down her fork.

  “I told you,” she began as she coughed slightly. “I was scouting, not sneaking.”

  He held his empty wine glass up as though he was examining it. “Yes, but I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want.” She shrugged as she wiped at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “It’s the truth. I was scouting, and you caught me.”

  “Why you though, I wonder,” he continued thoughtfully, still looking at his glass.

  The question was clearly more to him than to her, so Alex allowed him to ponder the scenarios while she sat quietly in her chair.

  “Of all the available resources the Empire has to call its own, why would Treyan allow his pregnant Empress anywhere out of his protective sight?”

  “Maybe he believed that I was the Empire’s best chance to get close enough to infiltrate the castle and report back any vital information I had discovered?” She tried her hardest to keep her eyes on him. Any wavering would give her away.

  He took the bait, and his eyes met hers with a grin on his face. “That would insinuate I had information worth reporting, or that you would be allowed to leave.”

  “You did make that mistake before.”

  “Indeed.” He sat pensively for a moment, maintaining eye contact as his grin fell into a smirk. “The question still remains. Why?”

  She continued to meet his gaze but did not say anything.

  “The way I understand it, this could culminate in one of two ways,” he surmised as he swung his legs around and stood from his chair. “Either you have truly come back of your own volition to spend the rest of your living days with me while we raise our children together or…”

  “Or?”

  “Or.” He walked around the table and stopped just before her chair, watching her with a fire in his red eyes. “I discover that you’ve deceived me, and I will never allow you to return to your Crown Prince again. A war will wage, and I will win by using you as collateral.”

  She matched his stare, trying with all of her might to remain unfazed. His threat struck deep, and she knew he would follow through with it if he figured out her true intentions. She needed to convince him, if only for the moment, and quickly decided his inebriation would work best in her favor.

  “My Lord, the hour grows late,” she stated calmly while standing from her chair. “Will you accompany me back to the bedroom?”

  She allowed herself to crack a slight smirk, and whether he believed it was meant to be suggestive in nature or otherwise, it worked. The fury that was so livid within his eyes a moment ago had tamed as he began to think with his privates rather than his brain.

  Taking his arm in hers, she gave him the smallest sliver of a smile as she led him out of the dining hall, and it was just enough to make him more than willing to guide them back to his rooms. While he walked in silence as though he was pondering his plan of attack within the bedroom, Alex quickly worked through the strategy that was mulling within her mind since she stepped foot in the Borderlands.

  The mage waiting outside of the door was instructed by Reylor not to interrupt them under any circumstance, regardless of what he might hear from within. The mage merely nodded in response, and Alex simply shrugged as she was pulled into the room by the very anxious former Lord Steward.

  The door shut and locked tight behind them, and Alex had a quick moment’s worth of hesitation before clearing her head to focus on the task before her. As Reylor struggled to simultaneously remove his shirt while unbuckling his pants, she walked to the nearby window, and as she pulled back the curtain, quickly noticed the full moon just shy of its apex. She swore to herself. They must have spent their time eating for longer than expected. She was almost out of time.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Reylor was further preoccupied with removing his boots than anything else. She slowly walked to the table beside the bed, out of sight from where Reylor sat, and removed the hidden knife from its drawer. Thinking quickly, she adjusted her bust where i
t met her swollen stomach, storing the knife within her dress underneath her breasts. It wouldn’t be able to remain there for long, but long enough should it be needed. With one more look to the moon, she let out a sigh and walked towards the bed.

  It was show time.

  “My Lord,” she purred as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Could we possibly light a fire? I’m feeling a chill…”

  His head shot up, a suggestive smirk on his lips. “I can warm you up without the need for a fire, Empress.”

  He stood, bringing his pants back to his hips as he walked towards her. The sight of his manhood caused her to blush, and the butterflies grew in her stomach, but not in any positive manner he would most likely suspect. She cast her glance aside, hoping he would mistake it as being coy, while she felt like vomiting up every bit of dinner she just ate.

  “No need to be shy, Empress,” he coaxed as he stood before her, bringing her face back around to face him.

  His eyes undressed her as his hands began to do the same, running along the dress’ low neck line, allowing his fingers to trail along underneath the material and against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat, and he accepted it as a sign to continue further. His hand grabbed her breast tight through the dress as his mouth went to her neck, and she closed her eyes tight as she fought back her scream.

  Reylor accepted her uneasiness as a sign to heighten his intensity, and he pushed her back against the rough masonry of the fireplace. She hesitated to touch him, but remembered her purpose, as well as her hidden knife, as the chill of the fireplace’s stones seeped through to her skin. If he discovered her weapon….

  “My Lord, a moment?”

  Her voice stopped his gnawing at her neck and he looked up at her with nothing but lust. “Shall it be a quick one?”

  “Of course,” she promised as she reached her hands up to take her hair down, keeping the comb in her hand.

  “Such a beautiful accessory,” he commented as he lifted her hand by the wrist, his fingers tight against her bone. “But what are you going to do with it now? Stab me?” he chuckled in a drunken stupor.

  “Never.” She smiled at him while she lied through her teeth.

  Leaning forward, she brought his face to hers with her free hand and brought his lips to hers, distracting him with a deep kiss. He accepted her ruse and devoured her mouth, distracted just enough to release his grip from her wrist. Once free from his grasp, she refused to delay another moment and tossed the hair comb into the fireplace behind her.

  Upon contact, the comb shattered and a portal of blue flame immediately erupted in its place, causing them both to stagger away in surprise.

  Reylor had been knocked off balance by the explosion, but Alex backed herself to the nearby bed which allowed her to remain steady on her feet. Taking advantage of his distraction, she grabbed the knife from within her dress and charged at him with all of her body strength. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she tackled him to the ground. It took him a moment to realize what she had done, but it was a moment too late as her momentum rolled them directly into the open conflagration of the Key.

  44

  Having been put asleep the only other time she traveled through a Key, Alex thought this was the most bizarre sensation she had ever felt. This wasn’t the same feeling of falling from a tree when she was eight or jumping from the quarries when she was a rebellious sixteen-years-old. Caught in a limbo between floating and falling, the air around her was both warm and cool, with a chill yet humid breeze, and though she could breathe, she felt as though the oxygen around her would soon dissipate and the next breath could be her last. It was only an instant, but felt like an eternity, and she held onto Reylor tight during their descent, not only to keep him close after all the effort it took to get to that point, but also to keep herself from feeling as though she was going to drift away into oblivion.

  She landed on her side with a hard thud while her arms remained gripped around Reylor’s waist. She had shut her eyes tight while falling through the portal, and only when it seemed as though the ground beneath her wasn’t going to disappear did she feel safe enough to open them.

  The room she was in was dully lit, and she could only see multiple pairs of feet from her current viewpoint. None moved, and she felt as though time itself stopped around her. It wasn’t until she released her captive and tried to push her body up and off of the ground did the bystanders move to her aid.

  The healer and Bria were immediately by her side, carefully bringing her to her feet. The mistress, it seemed, had been reinstated in her absence, but she wasn’t going to argue the comfort of seeing another friendly face. The healer immediately began checking her over, taking extra concern for the safety of the babies, which gave Alex a moment to assess her own well-being. She ached and felt slightly dizzy, but overall, the feeling of accomplishment she sensed sent endorphins through her body like a drug.

  She couldn’t believe it. Their plan actually worked.

  Brushing herself off while the healer finished with her exam, she looked over to Treyan. He and Jamison had detained Reylor once he was released, needing both of them to lift him off of the floor and into a standing position. Her husband looked over and his blue eyes met hers. With a furrow in his brow, he silently inquired as to the status of her welfare with his concerned look.

  She nodded in silent response. Now was not the time for a heart-felt reunion.

  The banished brother seemed slightly dazed, as though he was still working on piecing together the events that led him to his current situation. It all became clear the moment the Councillor stepped around to face him.

  “Reylor the Betrayer, you are hereby charged with the kidnapping and assault of the Queen Empress, the kidnapping and murder of a royal Mistress, as well as the complete and utter betrayal towards the Empire and the Annals of the Prophecy. What say you in your defense?”

  Reylor only smiled smugly while his hands were restrained behind his back. “It’s so nice to see you as well, Councillor.”

  Treyan stepped forward at that. “Have you nothing to say for yourself?” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  Reylor’s red eyes flared within the room’s candlelight as he gave his brother an evil sneer. “Everything I have done has been for the greater good of the Empire.”

  “Enough of this.” Treyan nodded to the Jamison. “Bring him to the cell.”

  “Wait.”

  Every head in the room turned to look at Alex.

  Ignoring their stares, she walked to where Treyan stood before his brother, and coming between them, stood to face Reylor.

  “Alex?” Treyan asked, sounding concerned while standing behind her, but Alex remained focused on their prisoner.

  Reylor’s lips curled into his disgusting grin yet again. “Why, Empress, have you reconsidered and decided to give me a par—”

  The sound of skin colliding with bone echoed throughout the room as his grin and two teeth were punched right off of his face.

  Alex never felt better.

  Once Reylor was led from the room, Alex was ushered to her own quarters. The healer insisted she rest, and her mistress was quick to oblige. Initially Alex refused. Her adrenaline was running too high for her to calm down enough to sleep, but once Bria sat her down and began removing her unconventional garments did the exhaustion begin to set in.

  The endorphins were also enough to allow her to ignore the damage she had done to her hand when she punch out Reylor's teeth, but the memory quickly resurfaced once the healer began bandaging the open wounds on her knuckles. She attempted to scold Alex for acting beneath her place as Empress, but the healer’s words drifted away as the fatigue settled upon her.

  Treyan returned to her room later that night, informing her Reylor was secured within his cell, using every bit of protection magic he, the Councillor, and any available magic user within the employ of the Empire could put in place. She was already lying down in bed by the time he arrived, and other than asking abou
t the strength and security of that holding cell, she didn't remember much beyond the sense of his presence. She was tired and ached all over and decided she could update her Prince about the journey once the suns rose in the morning.

  She did remember, however, the kiss he left on her forehead as the coolness of it lingered against the warmth of her Mark.

  And she remembered the last words he whispered to her before she drifted away into the sweetest of sleeps.

  "Warsuna huna."

  Welcome home.

  45

  Alex was still in bed when Bria brought the afternoon meal, and the suns had begun their descent when she finally felt rested enough to move. She didn't go very far, bringing the tray of food back to the bed with her, and there she remained until Treyan came to call.

  “And where have you been?” she inquired while biting off a piece of cheese.

  He looked about as worn out as she had earlier, with his dark hair hanging loose and disheveled at his shoulders while his blue eyes lacked the fire they normally possessed.

  “The dungeons,” he responded curtly as he sat himself on the opposite side of the bed.

  “Have you been down there all night?”

  “There and the Councillor's chambers, yes.” He nodded as he worked on removing his boots.

  She watched in silence, chewing on a slice of an apple while he swung his legs up, lying back on the bed.

  “Did he tell you anything?” she had to ask, this time nibbling on a piece of bread.

  He opened one eye and peered at her.

  “Shouldn't that be bandaged?” Treyan asked, nodding to her hand, sounding more repulsed at the sight than actually worried.

  She looked down to her injured hand, almost forgetting about it while she satiated her appetite. She had removed its wrappings while she ate for the thought of a soiled bandage against her fresh food made her stomach turn.

  “It looks worse than it really is,” she assured him as she winced while flexing the skin over the knuckles. “Sometimes these things just need to air out a bit.”