by Suz deMello
I glanced behind me to see Maia, Rall, Parron, Frayn, Geoman, Mercourie and a host of others trailing in our wake. “Perhaps that can be arranged.”
“Is your life always so crowded?”
“Yes, since I became queen. It is apparently a consequence of my position, though I do not think our retainers were so protective of my parents. They mean me no harm, of course. I did assume the throne quite young.”
His angular face softened. “I understand their anxiety. If you become mine, I will concern myself with your safety every moment of every day.”
“There is no need. As you told your guard, this castle is safe, despite my warriors’ concern about our many foreign guests.”
He tilted his head. “That is a thought. Since we are inside the castle already, we could seize it with ease.”
I glared at him.
“But that would be poor repayment of your hospitality. Worry not, Queen Audryn.” He took my hand. “I plan to conquer you by gentler means.”
At my chambers, guards opened the double doors. We entered and I kept everyone else out with a gesture. When the doors closed behind us, I leaned against them with a sigh and closed my eyes.
His finger traced the curve of my cheek. “Long day?”
I nodded wordlessly and he said, “I won’t keep you late.” He caressed my lips with his and I hummed with pleasure. His hands settled at my waist and squeezed, then stroked up toward my bodice. He again reached into my gown and lifted my breasts free.
I eased my mouth away from his to inhale a quivery breath, gripping his doublet at the sides. He gently unclipped my left nipple and, bending his head, covered it with his tongue, laving the beaded, aching point with tender strokes.
Kissing my mouth, he eased me back against the door so his codpiece thrust at my pussy through the thin satin gown. I drew his hips into mine, spreading my legs so he lodged into my notch. He ground into me back and forth. His cod caressed my clit through my gown and chemise as we kissed, our lips and tongues tangling delightfully.
Moisture dampened my body as passion grew. Storne reached for my right breast and released it. The sudden rush of blood to the nipple flooded me with renewed craving for completion. He covered my breast with his hand, squeezing the globe, rotating it until I pressed it more fully into his palm and groaned with need.
“Until tomorrow, my queen.”
His whisper sounded in my ear throughout all my dreams.
Chapter Six
The next morning, I was awakened by the crash of boots on my chamber’s stone floor. Tense, I jerked upright in bed.
Storne was dusting himself off beneath the dark gap of a ventilation shaft.
“How did you get through there?” I demanded.
“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”
I ignored his courtesy. “Explain yourself.”
He grinned at me. “The tunnel was a tight fit, but these clothes helped.” He was clad entirely in gray leather, so smooth it appeared shiny and slippery.
“How did you know about the tunnels? They are a secret.”
He lifted his brows. “It’s a poor secret that’s revealed for all to see.”
“Most people do not notice them.”
“I’m not most people.” He sat on my bed. “I’m a warrior, and always watchful. When I saw that the ventilation shaft in my room was large enough for a slender person to wiggle through, I went exploring. I discovered a false back on my wardrobe and an entire warren of secret halls throughout this castle. As I said, Castle Remarck is an admirable stronghold, the most secure and complex on Janus.”
“Our legends say it is quite old, predating the Progenitors. Generations of rulers have added to its secrets.”
“May I presume you are familiar with those secrets?”
“You presume correctly.” I leaned back into my pillows and regarded him. “I shall either have to marry you or kill you. You already know too much.”
He hooted with laughter before giving me a quick but friendly buss on the lips. “Did you sleep well?”
I stretched my arms above my head, enjoying the way his eyes tracked my nipples as they poked the cream-colored silk sheet. “Yes, I did.” After I had brought myself off.
He looked disappointed. “I had hoped you thought about me all night.”
I smiled. “I dreamed of you instead.”
“Let me see your lovely breasts.” He twitched at the sheet, and I allowed it to fall.
“Rosy crests with bright red tips. Are you sore this morning?”
“A bit.”
“I can help.” He covered one breast then the other with gentle kisses.
I slid my fingers into his dark, soft hair, which this morning was tied at the nape with a gray leather strip. I pulled it out and tossed it aside. He stretched full length atop me, with the sheet saving my dubious chastity.
If I didn’t distract myself and Storne, the decision would be made based on lust, not policy. “Have you offspring?” I asked.
Another shout of laughter. “Offspring? I do love the way you talk. I have sons, yes.” He sat up.
“How many? Where are they?”
“Two, aged five and seven. They live with their mothers in our clan fortress, FireMountain Keep.”
“Your women, they will not mind if we marry?”
“No. They live together already, you see? Without jealousy. Continuing the clan is more important. And they expect me to marry for political advantage.”
I stroked the sigil worked in silver over the left breast of his gray leather tunic. “The oak and the mountain—they are clan symbols?”
“Symbols rather of Darksider nobility. FireMountain is one of the oldest Darksider clans. Tradition says that after the Progenitors left, maybe a century passed before disputes rose between the descendants of the Terrans who survived the rigors of Janus, so different from their homeworld. My ancestors chose a freer life on the near reaches of Janus’ darkside, and were later joined by other renegades and malcontents.” He poked me in the side. “You softer folk remained to enjoy the comforts of the Shadowlands.”
“Why the firemountain as your symbol?”
“Life on Darkside is hard.” His tone was somber. “The volcanoes give us life and warmth. Using their heat, we melt ice for water. We also mine jewels and minerals so we can trade for food. We could not survive without the firemountains, and our ancestors first settled near one. Thus our symbol.”
“What of your clan’s keep?”
“Its walls enclose a spring of water heated by a volcano, which is the reason the location was picked. It is simple, a turret where we live and stables for animals. The retaining wall encloses livestock and some meager crops.”
“Where does the King, your father, live?”
“Currently he abides at the Darksider capital.”
“Forde Castle, near the EastMarch.”
“Yes, and that is situated on the river that forms the main trade route between your land and mine.”
“So the King of Darkness always controls the route and the ford crossing it.”
“Exactly.” He leaned back on his elbows. “If we are not going to make love, how about breakfast?”
I tugged at the bellpull, and Maia entered. She stiffened when she saw Storne. Then her gaze went to the ventilation shaft.
“Yes,” he said to her. “It is a weakness in this castle’s defenses.”
“A hot infusion and pastries, please, Maia.” I slid out of bed and reached for my robe. I could not help noticing that Storne’s stare was planted on my bush. I wrapped the robe around my body and tied its sash securely. ’Twas of warm, soft wool combined with WestMarch silk in a pale but cheerful yellow. My parents had given it to me, and I loved it.
I shoved my feet into matching slippers and led Storne to a round glass table near a window overlooking the palace gardens. Only one of our moons had risen, and its soft, silvery glow edged the lawns and leaves.
While we ate, we continued to
talk. I told Storne that Kaldir wanted to negotiate new trade agreements, figuring that I was not breaching a confidence. The DesertDwellers’ intentions could not be kept secret, or they would never be fulfilled. For his part, Storne asked me, “What’s the real reason you’re going to Lightside?”
I stared at him but said, “As I indicated last night, I still consider Kaldir an aspirant for my hand. I wish to see his lands before making a commitment.”
He propped an elbow on the table and searched my face. “You Shadowlanders are always in the midst of an intrigue.”
I pressed my lips together.
“I could help you. Did you think of that?”
I remembered something that Geoman had said. Storne is a master of warfare. If the Children of Light conceal any military secrets, he will worry them forth. And ensuring Storne as a secret ally might keep him from covertly aligning with Kaldir. “We suspect that the Lightsiders have technology that they aren’t sharing. We are concerned that the technology could endanger us if used improperly.”
“Weapons.”
“Perhaps. We don’t know. But the situation is perfect for exploring their citadels.” I shrugged. “Kaldir was not in a position to deny me this request.”
“How did you persuade him to allow me to accompany you?”
“Persuade him? Ha. He wanted you to come.”
“Why? If he truly wants to marry you, he wouldn’t want me around.”
“He feared your anger if we left without you. He did not wish to provoke you.”
A slow smile, one that was not entirely pleasant, spread across Storne’s face. “He’s a very intelligent man.”
“Should I be afraid of you?”
“No.”
“What if I refuse your suit?”
He looked untroubled by the possibility. “Two reasonable people can always work something out.”
I wondered what he really wanted. “What something might that be?”
He shrugged. “Politically and economically, the usual. A mutually advantageous division of the EastMarch. Reasonable tolls on the trade routes between Dark and Light through Shadow. Fair prices for Shadowland goods that we need for our survival.”
“Were our lands married, these would cease to be issues,” I said with some wariness. The non-allocation of the Marches to either side was not negotiable.
“True. But our spies tell us that the Children of Light will go to tremendous lengths to prevent the union of Darkness and Shadow. I am sure you have already concluded that we would control two-thirds of Janus and all of its most useful lands. There is little in the desert of interest.”
“That remains to be discovered.” I frowned. “Kaldir has said nothing of this.”
“Did you think he would be obvious?”
“Of course not, but I pride myself on my reading of character.” Rising, I paced. “Perhaps that is why he wanted you to accompany us on our Royal Progress to his lands. You would be in his power.”
Storne rose to join me at the window. “As would you.”
I glanced at his face, still serene and untroubled. “Everyone has a plot,” I said.
He nodded. “Everyone has their separate plots and plans, separate intentions.” He took my shoulders. “Let’s ensure that our plots and plans don’t conflict. Agreed?”
I thought of Storne’s reputation, Kaldir’s fear and Geoman’s opinion, which I prized. “Agreed.”
* * * * *
Morning meeting with the Ten Ministers was dominated by discussion of the impending Royal Progress. I appointed Lady Mercourie to oversee the arrangements and travel with us. I also told her to work closely with Lord Parlous regarding security. I selected Geoman, Caducia and Kloutt as a triumvirate to manage matters in my absence, but told Mercourie to send word throughout my kingdom that I would be holding Open Court in my southern keep for several days while the Progress visited. I made sure that the Ten understood that I was queen and I ruled wherever I happened to be.
I told Frayn he would accompany us, believing in the old Terran proverb, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I knew he would not resist a direct command. Plus, I wagered that Frayn still cherished hopes that he would ascend the Throne by my side. I fueled his mistaken belief with subtle flirtatious glances, for I feared his reaction when I did, finally, choose. I did not trust him to calmly acquiesce to my marriage to another, for he had schemed to win my approval and the Throne for too long. Leaving his father behind split my rivals, and I trusted Geoman and Caducia to foil any plots Kloutt might hatch in my absence.
The discussion distracted the Ten from inquiring about my reaction to Storne, which was what I had planned. I did not know what to tell them. I was too deeply attracted to Storne to trust my judgment. My intuition told me that he was trustworthy, but I could be wrong. My instincts told me that he would rule wisely, but again I could be wrong.
Though proof of his seed’s potency was essential, what of his sons? Would he favor them over any progeny we might produce? If we were not fortunate enough to have children, would he attempt to insert one of his sons onto Shadow’s Golden Throne when that position rightfully should go to Kloutt or Frayn?
That evening, the object of my worries entered my chambers while Maia was still shaving me before dinner. Naked, I lay on the golden velvet settee, hips lifted by the bolster and my legs spread. She had set her shaving implements nearby—the soap and brush, a basin of water, cloths.
Damn him. Not only was I unable to learn all of Maia’s observations of that day, but Storne had caught me in an unclad, unprepared state while he was perfectly groomed and attired, tonight in forest-green. His smirk told me that he enjoyed my discomfiture.
“Leave us,” he told Maia, who dropped the razor and obeyed without question.
My mouth fell open. Not only was I staggered by his arrogance, but Maia’s conduct shocked me even though I knew she approved of him. This intrusion called for a stronger reaction from my guardian of many years. She was fierce in my defense, and I would not have been surprised if she had slashed him with the razor.
I raised myself on one elbow, trying not to show my discomfort. “She wasn’t done,” I said.
“I’ll finish for her.” He kneeled beside me and our faces were close enough for a kiss. But we didn’t. Instead we regarded each other. His gray eyes were unfathomable, his features calm. He picked up the shaving brush and stroked foam over my mound, covering it.
My heartbeat quickened. “I prefer only my labia shaved.” My voice was high and raw from tension.
“Why stop there?” He set down the brush.
I wetted my lips, wondering how far I could go with him. “Are naked pussies the norm in your land?”
He didn’t twitch so much as an eyelash but took the razor. “No,” he said. “Our women are far less conscious of their appearance.”
“Is that a criticism?”
“Oh, no. You are the Queen of Shadow. Your appearance is crucial.”
As he reached toward me, razor in hand, I asked, “Why should I allow you to do this?”
He looked me in the eyes. “Because it’s sexy.”
I sucked in a breath. Air hissed through my teeth.
“Because I want to touch your pussy.”
My heart pounded so fiercely that my left breast trembled with each beat.
“And you want me to.”
“Yes,” I said.
By that one word, I implied surrender, and Storne took it as such. He pressed his free palm to my belly above my mound, tightening the flesh, then carefully set the razor to my muff. He drew it down through the foam and hair, then rinsed it in the basin. Two more long strokes, and most of the blond curls were gone. Then he used short, quick scrapes to completely divest me of all hairs.
“I’m going to look like a little girl.”
He set down the razor. “No. You have a woman’s proud, beautiful flesh.” He wiped away the loose hairs, took my clitoris between two fingers and rubbed. Slick with soap,
it swelled, and I cried out. He did not stop and I didn’t want him to. He played with me, exploring every fold, running his strong fingers along my labia on each side of my clit.
Pleasure charged through me. Close to climax, I cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples, moaning. He backed off to massage my thighs, then returned to toy with my slit, parting the tender opening and probing my tight channel until I panted and writhed, my hips jerking.
He stopped short of my goal, and I whined, “Aren’t you going to finish?”
“Not yet. What about me?”
“What would you like?”
“I want you to turn over.”
So I did. Draped over the bolster with my buttocks raised, I was completely exposed to his gaze, completely controlled by him. But I wasn’t afraid. I was imbued with a heat like nothing I had ever felt before. I gripped the settee’s upper edge and opened my legs, wanting him to see me, to admire me.
I did not know why. Storne’s reputation was as a ruthless butcher of men, and yet I had allowed him to use a razor on my body. Perhaps it was Maia’s attitude. I had complete confidence in her judgment, for she had ways of acquiring information that were unlike any others and much better. She was my most faithful and accomplished servant.
And there were my own instincts. I wanted Storne and he wanted me. Reason also told me that hurting me would accomplish nothing for him.
Again using the razor, he shaved my crack with tiny cautious strokes, then washed my arse tenderly before setting his lips onto my most private entrance.
“Oh,” I breathed. This was new, as was his tongue flicking the sensitive circle. I blossomed open and he inserted his tongue. Like a tiny finger, it curled around the narrow tunnel. Moaning, I writhed on the soft settee and the velvet cuddled my breasts like a hand.
“Enough,” he said, “for now.”
I rolled over and looked at him. His lips were wet and he leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. I didn’t close my eyes but reached for him, tangling my hands in his hair, touching every plane of his face, trying to take in the entirety of him. An irrational desperation clawed inside me, but why? What was the hurry? We had all our long lives, and yet I wanted all of him immediately. Our tongues thrust and parried. I sucked, tasting soap, myself and his flavor overlaying all. Storne.