by Viola Rivard
Caleth waited a full minute before taking the pen from her.
‘You have never been intimate with a man?’
Because he’d phrased it as a question, Eloisa found it easier to respond.
‘Until last night, I had never kissed a man.’
Frowning, he took the pen back. ‘Had I known, I would not have brought you to my bed so soon. Why did you conceal it from me?’
Eloisa stared down at the question, and felt ashamed as she scribed her response. ‘I was afraid it would lead to more questions, ones that I would be obligated to answer truthfully. Philomen gave me the impression that if you found out what I was, you would kill me.’
After writing it out, Eloisa wished that she hadn’t written Philomen’s name. She saw Caleth’s eyes narrow and knew that it wasn’t her that he was angry with.
‘He was concerned, given that as far as is known, light readers were eradicated in the north. He was only trying to—’
Caleth took the pen and completed her sentence for her. ‘—ensure that he got his loan. Your brother does not care for your wellbeing, and if you believe that then you are lying to yourself.’
Taken aback, Eloisa folded her hands in her lap, refusing his offer for the pen. She knew deep down that he was right, but it hurt to see the words and it shamed her deeply to know that even someone who knew so little of her could see that she was burying a delusion.
To bury a delusion was perhaps the worst offense an acolyte could commit. When they entered the tower, they were taught to dispel their delusions—the beliefs they held about themselves and their lives. Eloisa's had been manifold. There were the large delusions, such as that she was a person of great importance and wealth, and that she would one day return to her family, and then there were the small delusions, such as that she couldn’t be happy without music, or that her little brother would not be well without her.
The purpose of dispelling these delusions was twofold. Without them, Eloisa would be one step closer to achieving the divine objectivity of a Maiden, able to look at any situation and see the truth of it without her vision colored by preconceptions. The second purpose was to help her detach from her previous life and ease into her new reality in the tower.
Burying a delusion meant not properly releasing it. It meant hiding it in a hidden corner of one's being, were it would inevitably take root and later emerge, stronger and more corrosive than ever.
Eloisa had buried many delusions, some of them so deeply that even the lash had not been enough to tear them from within her. Chief among those delusions and one she had never dared let go of, was that her mother and her siblings had loved her dearly.
When she finally took the pen, her temper wrote as much as her hand did.
‘And I suppose you are going to tell me that you are the only one who cares for my wellbeing?’
‘You do not need me to tell you who has your best interests at heart. I would be lying if I told you that I will always put your interests before my own, but I will endeavor to ensure that you need for little and want for nothing. And while on the topic, I will never lie to you.’
Eloisa pursed her lips as she wrote back, ‘You can’t lie to me. I would know.’
His response made her feel like a fool. ‘What good is knowing if you have no recourse?’
In not so many words, he’d underlined the vast imbalance of power in their relationship. He was the sovereign of the north and—if he had his way—soon enough most of the world. Eloisa was just the princess of a bankrupt kingdom that would soon be under his control. She had no power over Caleth.
‘It is not my intention to upset you,’ he wrote. ‘I only want to get ahead of your own misgivings. In time, I intend for us to have a partnership, both as husband and wife, and as rulers.’
Eloisa hesitated to believe him. She knew how easily promises and vows could be broken. At any point in their relationship, he could decide that she was no longer useful to him, or renege on his agreement to share power.
A week ago, holding power had been something so far beyond the scope of her desires that it had seemed laughable. Now, she desperately wished that she had even a scrap of it, because it was the only way she could ever feel secure in their relationship. And she wanted that relationship. She wanted him.
Caleth was a great man, but he was not a good one. He was everything the historical texts had led her to believe—cunning, devious, and vain. Yet none of these qualities seemed to detract from his appeal, and when coupled with his attentiveness and the fondness with which he regarded her, Eloisa found herself painfully enamored. She wondered what it said about her that she could hold affection for such a villainous man.
‘I would like for us to be partners,’ Eloisa finally wrote.
Though she had little agency in the matter, she did remember something that Lidia had told her before she’d ever set foot in Cal’en Fasha.
You are beautiful, virtuous, and pure. With the correct aim, these can be powerful assets. Make him fall in love with you, and you will no longer be his pawn. His power will become yours to wield, however you see fit.
Caleth already confessed to being drawn to her. Jedora had gone so far as to claim that Eloisa had him wrapped around her fingers. All of that, she’d been doing without trying. She wondered if, with gentle pressure, she could yet make a space for herself within his world. One in which his great power became an extension of her own.
To manipulate herself into so much power would be an unparalleled sin against her teachings. Even the thought of it was perhaps the most impure thing to ever pass through her mind. Knowing that made it easier for Eloisa to write her next words.
‘Will you take me to your bed?’
Chapter Fourteen
Why didn’t I say my bed?
Why did I mention a bed at all?
Eloisa pondered these questions and many more as Caleth led her into his room. She’d been right in that the narrow door in the corner of hers adjoined their two rooms. It stuck as Caleth turned the handle, but with a little pressure, it pushed open into his room. A burst of frigid air hit Eloisa in the face, as if to sober her.
She had been a Child when she’d grown into maturity, and together she and her fellow Children had grappled with burgeoning urges that they could do little about. As they passed into the echelons of daughterhood, everyone else seemed to shed their lust like an old beetle’s carapace, but Eloisa had never stopped struggling.
Rather than ousting her lust, she had buried it. Her delusion had been that one day, somehow, she would know what it was like to sate her desires with a man.
Her fantasies had been at first sweet and beautiful things, but over the years, as her teachings and her sense of shame became more ingrained, her imaginings had become perverse. Fantasizing about a man kissing her gently and making love to her had warped into dark visions of a man stealing into her room in the night, pinning her to her bed and taking his fill of her. It had been the only way she could imagine intercourse without feeling completely ashamed of herself. If it was against her will, then the blame could not be entirely with her.
She tried to reach for the sweet dreams of her youth, but found it difficult in the cold, dark setting. As the bed loomed closer with each step, she tried in vain to predict what he would do once they arrived.
Am I doing this for power, or because I want him?
And which is worse?
The walk to his bed was over far too soon. Eloisa was shivering by the time they reached it. Though she was quite nervous, she was also confident that this time her trembling was entirely due to the cold and her near-nakedness.
She considered finding a way to ask if they could go to her bed instead, but as she glanced up at him she noticed the moonlight reflecting off the sheen of sweat on his forehead. She'd seen him perspiring while they’d been in her room. Her room, which was rather chilly to Eloisa, must have felt stifling for the frost dragon. Caleth hadn’t once complained, and she decided that if he could suffer
her climate, she would do her best to endure his.
Caleth kept his hands on Eloisa’s hips as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. He pulled her close, but not quite off her feet.
“Wysrashta ka cues hanshta ka cre?”
Do you understand what—what was the rest of it?
Eloisa had forgotten about the vast language barrier between the two of them. It was something she would have to deal with, as they couldn’t very well bring pen and paper to bed. Rather than allowing it to unnerve her, she decided to view it as a blessing. If they couldn’t communicate, she wouldn’t be able to reveal how clueless she was about what they were going to do.
With a brazenness that surprised her, she reached up to wipe the sweat from Caleth’s brow. His skin was cold and smooth, and she didn’t want to stop touching it.
She couldn’t have imagined that an attraction could feel so intense. It was not merely that Caleth was handsome, although that was certainly the primary factor. However, it was also in the way that he walked and the way he held himself with calm, enviable confidence. It was in the way his presence seemed to fill any space that he was in. It was the exoticness of him—his cold touch, alabaster skin, and purring, whispering accent. It was in the way he regarded her, so gently and so fondly, while to everyone else he seemed to be a figure that inspired caution and fear.
Eloisa didn’t understand why all of that aroused her so deeply. Some of it made sense, while other things should have made her question her soundness of mind.
She certainly wasn’t in her right mind as she cupped the sides of his face and lowered her head to kiss him. As soon as their lips connected, she was startled by the sound of his growl. She might have pulled away, but his hand had gone to the back of her head, blocking her escape.
For an instant, his kiss was tender, as if to lure her into a sense of security. Then, it abruptly deepened. He pressed her closer, and she could feel the scrape of teeth against her bottom lip.
Caleth pulled her onto the bed, maneuvering her under the covers without breaking their kiss. Every so often, their lips would part for a fraction of a second, allowing them to breathe. His breath felt like ice and smelled like wine.
For a time, he only kissed her, and Eloisa had no thoughts beyond his mouth and the way it was making her feel. Even the cold couldn’t penetrate the atmosphere of heat created by her overstimulated body.
It wasn’t until his hand slipped under her blanket to rest on her bare hip that a candle was lit in another part of her mind.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
The chorus continued in her head as his hand drew a slow path up the curve of her waist and settled onto her breast. His touch felt like ice against her nipple and made her gasp.
His hand moved in a rhythmic, circular motion, squeezing and stroking her until the repetition became too familiar to feel alarming. Soon, she couldn’t help but relax under his gentle touch, and once she did, she began to crave it. She had always known that men derived pleasure from a woman’s breasts, but it had never occurred to her that she could share in that pleasure.
Eloisa had never believed the Sister’s warnings that women found no enjoyment in intercourse and that it was a painful, unpleasant experience meant to be endured, rather than reveled in. She had felt the stirrings of lust too strongly, felt the throbbing between her thighs when she entertained illicit fantasies, and knew that there was pleasure to be had in erotic stimulation.
Still, it took her by surprise just how strongly her body reacted to the knowledge that they would soon be joined. Every part of her felt more sensitive and the surface of her skin tingled with anticipation. Her sex ached and throbbed, growing damp and then wet with the warm fluids that would ease him into her passage.
As she grew more and more at ease with his touch, she began exploring him as well. At first her perusal was unintentional. Her hands, which had started their journey on his face, began a slow descent down his thick neck and across his broad shoulders. She was marveling in the way his corded muscles flexed when she realized how indulgent she was being. Her hands stilled, but only for a moment. His masculine body was so alien to her and she couldn’t resist discovering its secrets.
A point of particular fascination for her was his chest. She had always found the male chest, so broad and flat, to be strangely appealing. Caleth’s chest had far more definition than she expected. His pectorals were not entirely flat, but instead had a slight curve to them. However, they were not soft like a woman’s breasts. Pressing her thumbs into them, she found them to be hard, unyielding muscle.
Beneath his pectorals were rows of firm muscles, separated by hard lines that were perfect for drawing her fingers through. Caleth seemed to enjoy it when she touched him as such, because he would emit a purring growl that she now associated with pleasure and satisfaction.
As her hands explored ever lower, her fingers passed over the final ridge, and then down to the hard plane that led to the seam of his pants. She ran her fingers along the seam, until she found the solid edges of his hips. When her hands settled onto them, Caleth flexed his hips. They ground against hers, and she felt something hard rub against her pelvis. The sensation made her body light up with pleasure and exhilaration, and she had to break their kiss in order to suck in a breath.
While Eloisa was catching her breath, Caleth sat up and removed his shirt. She’d been so absorbed in feeling the shape of him that she’d barely registered the fact that he had been fully clothed. The sight of his bare chest, highlighted by the moonlight, was enough to make her heart shudder.
She would have been content to lay back and watch for hours, but Caleth took her by the arm and pulled her up so that she was sitting in his lap. Her blanket came off on one side and she hastily pulled it up. When she tried wrapping it around her chest, Caleth stayed her hand, making her leave it open in the front and giving him full view of her breasts with their stiffened nipples.
He brought her hand to his chest, gently encouraging her to touch him. Though she wanted to badly, she was too shy to do so while he was looking straight at her. After a moment’s debating, she placed her hand on his jaw, giving him a slight push so that his head would turn away. A smile tugged at his lips as he indulged her, going so far as to close his eyes.
Feeling at ease, Eloisa began another slow perusal of his chest, this time accentuated by the feel of his skin, which had a texture similar to her bed sheets. It was like running her fingers over cool silk that had been stretched across granite.
There was only one part of him that interested her more than his chest, and as her hands once again reached the seam of his pants, her breath caught. At the juncture of his legs, a large bulge strained against the fabric of his pants. As she stared down at it, even the nagging voice in her head went silent as if holding its breath for what she’d do next.
As her fingers began to creep downwards she alternated her gaze between her destination and Caleth’s head. His eyes remained closed and aside from a slight hitch in his breathing, he gave no bodily indication of what he was thinking. His aura, however, was drenched in a frenetic mix of excitement, passion, and anticipation.
Eloisa ran her hand along the length of his fabric-clad manhood, finding it to be quite similar to his chest. It felt rigid to the touch, but when she boldly applied pressure, she found that her fingers could make the barest indent in its firm surface.
Before she could examine it thoroughly, Caleth took her wrist in his large hand. His breathing was noticeably fast, his broad chest rising and falling in powerful breaths.
“Dajae, Eloisaja.”
She knew she’d heard the word before, but she couldn’t recall its meaning. Whatever he’d said, he’d made it clear that he didn’t want her to continue what she was doing. She felt a little apprehensive as she wondered if she’d done something he didn’t like. Caleth must have sensed this, because he immediately set to kissing her again, as if trying to reassure her with his mouth.
As he pushed her back onto
the bed, his tongue went inside of her, sweeping the inside of her mouth. She hadn’t known she’d wanted him to do that until she was curling her tongue with his and relishing the deepened intimacy of their kiss.
Caleth’s hands did not return to her breasts. He had settled his body between her legs and was now massaging the inside of her thigh with one hand. It was unnerving to be spread open beneath him, but excitement won out over her fears.
Just as she had slowly worked her way down his chest, Caleth’s hand traced a steady journey down the inside of her thighs. As his hand grew ever closer to her center, Eloisa’s anticipation climbed to new heights.
She had no idea what to expect when his hand settled over her to cup her sex. He stilled in his ministrations and broke their kiss to give her a meaningful look.
“Vayt?” The question came in a cold breath across her face.
Eloisa nodded, because she couldn’t get the word past her throat. She rationalized that because she didn’t know precisely what he was asking her permission for, then she wasn’t precisely asking for him to defile her. Her faulty logic sustained her through the next phase of their lovemaking, allowing her to indulged freely in the pleasure he bestowed on her.
She had anticipated that he’d wanted to feel her, as she had wanted to feel him. Her consent had been to satisfy his curiosity, though she’d recognized that it might feel good having him touch her. That notion was dispelled from the first graze of his finger across her slippery inner folds.
It did not feel good. It felt incredible.
Her body instinctively arched into his touch and a moan tore through her chest. She had to turn away from his kiss because she could scarcely catch her breath as his fingers stroked her. Caleth didn’t seem to mind that she’d broke their kiss. His mouth moved to her neck, where he began to trail sucking, nibbling kisses down towards the juncture of her shoulder.