by Sarah Hawke
“What a charming people,” he muttered. “You have no idea how difficult it’s been to put up with them for an entire week…”
Larric turned and frowned. “My lord?”
“I’ve met Asgardians with better social graces, and I’m not even sure they know how to use silverware,” Cassandra added. “Then there’s the smell, of course. I swear, you can taste their stink for hours after they’ve left a room, especially the males. We’ll be cleaning the palace for a month…”
“I can’t believe you were ever willing to fight alongside one, even against warlocks,” Darkstone said. “You must be a very patient man indeed.”
Larric’s cheek twitched. “Pragmatism is a virtue among soldiers.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Darkstone eyed the other man for a moment and smiled. “You almost look surprised, my friend. Please tell me you don’t actually believe I’m about to sign an alliance with the bloody vaeyn.”
“I assumed you had another card up your sleeve,” Larric replied carefully. “And that we would make arrangements once the vaeyn were gone.”
Darkstone grinned. “I admit, I was worried when I received Kristoff’s missive. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to trust an intermediary with such a delicate situation. But when Lady Karethys explained your shared history to me, I knew everything would work out for the best. You were the perfect man to help earn her trust.”
Larric returned the smile. “Then I suppose the real question is what you intend to do with it.”
“Most of what I told her is true, as I’m sure you know,” the Duke explained. “Emperor Lucian and the Covenant must be opposed, and the vaeyn are the perfect tools for the job. The chaos they sow will present us with a grand opportunity to steer our Empire back on the proper course.”
“That vaeyn bitch is delusional is she believes we’re going to release their cousins,” Lord Varyl sneered. “What would elves even do with themselves, squat in the ghettos and shit themselves while—”
“That’s enough,” Darkstone interrupted, shooting his son a cool glare before glancing back to Larric. “I’m sure you understand what he’s trying to say. Without orcs to mine the mountains and faeyn to plow the fields, every province in the Empire would collapse almost overnight. The Covenant could disintegrate tomorrow and it wouldn’t change anything.”
“Karethys surely understands this,” Larric said. “The vaeyn may be savages, but they’re not fools.”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. Their hatred of the Covenant will make them our willing tools regardless. We’ll set them free in Sanctum and allow them to challenge the Hierophant and cripple Lucian, but once they’re no longer useful we’ll drive them back underground like the rats they are.”
Larric raised an eyebrow. “They will not relent easily. Lucian thought them easy prey, and now most of Glorfinel burns.”
“Lucian is a fool…but I understand your point. Thankfully, I have other means to ensure their destruction when the time is right.”
“Your Excellency?”
Darkstone chuckled and placed an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “A conversation for another time, I think. We’ve focused on business far too long, Captain. Tonight we celebrate!”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Duchess Cassandra said, her blue eyes sparkling. “I’ve prepared something special for you. I guarantee you will retire sated.”
Larric smiled again. It looked genuine enough on the surface, but I could tell it was forced. “I look forward to it.”
“I’m expecting a number of other visitors tonight from across the Vale, including Baron Ornosa and his wife.” Darkstone said. “They’ll be disappointed that Gabriel didn’t make the trip personally, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”
“Speaking of Kristoff, I know he intended this avenari as a gift,” Cassandra said. “I apologize for my husband’s rudeness. We’ll make proper use of her tonight, I promise.” She snapped her fingers and summoned one of the guards. “Make certain she’s prepped for the festivities tonight, but keep her separate from the other slaves. I don’t want her spoiling the fun.”
“Yes, my lady,” the man said. He walked behind me, and I resisted the urge to jump when his strong hands clamped around my arms.
“I doubt she even knows what to do with herself after holding her legs closed for two days,” Duchess Cassandra said, stepping forward and pinching my chin. “Don’t worry, my dear. Tonight you’ll have ample opportunity to demonstrate your skills.”
Chapter Four: Darkstone’s Ball
I was perfectly accustomed to the subtle humiliations of “gift-wrapping,” wherein local servants prepared me for the individualized tastes of their masters. The range of preferences was truly staggering, and not just in terms of the different ways they wanted me to dress or wear my hair. Some nobles, like Grand Duke Arland, were content to leave me unrestrained, and others went so far as to engage me in real conversation before we retired to their bedchambers. But there were plenty on the opposite extreme as well, and on more than one occasion I’d spent the entire evening tied up like a hog with a blindfold over my eyes and a cock buried in my ass.
The moment the Duchess’s handmaiden touched me, I knew tonight would be more like the latter than the former. The woman dragged me away from Larric and back into the palace before depositing me inside a dim, quiet room. I was left alone for the better of an hour, and I had just started to wonder if they’d forgotten me when she barged back through the door carrying a small case of supplies.
She was not gentle. After tearing me out of my old dress, she quickly took my measurements then pushed me face-first onto the bed. I remained as still as possible while she rubbed uncomfortably hot oil over my body, and she flipped me over and made certain my flesh glistened from my chin to my toes. I expected her to touch-up my makeup next, and technically she did…but apparently Duke Darkstone preferred a much heavier, more intense look than I was used to. My lips and cheeks practically glowed red by the time she’d finished, to the point my face was almost unrecognizable when I glanced into the mirror.
“The young lord Varyl likes to see smears,” the handmaiden answered my unspoken question. “He also likes ponytails so he has something to grab onto. Trust me, you’ll look like a weeping whore by the time he’s done with you.”
I started to respond, but she shoved a gag into my mouth and tied me to the bed before I could speak. She left the room again, but this time she returned just a few minutes later with my new outfit. The garment wasn’t actually a dress—it was essentially a leather thong attached to a transparent silken skirt. My breasts remained uncovered.
After adding a few final touches to my makeup, the handmaiden tied my wrists behind my back and fastened a collar around my neck. The accompanying leash was fairly long, and she tugged on it several times to make sure it was tight enough to cause me discomfort.
“You’ll wait here until they’re ready,” she told me. “If you don’t want to get lashed, make sure you keep your eyes down.”
She shut the door behind her, and I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. I couldn’t help but be nervous about Lord Varyl, but if I could convince him to take me back to his chambers I would probably be all right. The Aether would defend me…I just couldn’t risk channeling in public.
An hour or so later, a pair of royal guardsmen opened the door and escorted me into the main dining hall. I couldn’t believe how much the palace had changed just since this morning—the halls were now filled with faeyn slaves. Even the ones I recognized from before were wearing different clothing. All the males and nearly all the females were topless, and they didn’t lift their eyes from the floor.
The dining hall itself had also changed. The main table had been replaced by a rectangular arrangement of smaller tables, creating a rough “C” shape around the center of the room. The reason was immediately obvious—there were already dozens of nobles gathered in the room, and Darkstone had simply needed more seating.
La
rric was standing next to the Grand Duke’s throne at the head of the table along with the rest of the royal family. Other lesser nobles ranging from barons to minor lords were scattered about the room. I recognized a few of families by their coat of arms, but none were particularly relevant outside provincial politics besides than the Ornosas. Their patriarch, Baron Gaylen Ornosa, controlled several port cities along the eastern coast and exerted an enormous amount of influence over Imperial trade policy as a result. According to Master Kristoff, his family had long-standing ties to the Darkstones.
The guards escorted me towards the throne, and I did my best to keep my head bowed while still taking in as many of the sights as possible. Dozens of faeyn slaves were busy setting the tables and organizing the furniture before dinner. I appeared to be the only avenari, however, which made me more nervous than anything else.
“Ah, Kristoff’s pet cunt has finally returned,” Duchess Cassandra sneered as she sipped at a glass of wine. She was wrapped in a white, skin-tight gown that probably cost as much as ten of her slaves. “Is he trying to convince us to buy or is he just hoping to get on my husband’s good side?”
“Elara isn’t for sale,” Larric said, flashing a polite smile. “She’s merely a gesture of his good will.”
Cassandra grunted as she stepped in front of me and pinched my right breast. We were nearly the same height, but her gem-studded heels allowed her to tower over me. “Five thousand sovereigns says I can convince you to leave her here with us…”
“There’s no better way to motivate my wife than to tell her she cannot have something,” Duke Darkstone commented with a chuckle. “The same can be said for my son, actually.”
I could feel Lord Varyl’s breath on the back of my neck as he paced behind me. I half-expected him to grab me around the waist and throw me down on the table, but apparently he was slightly more reserved in public.
“Nothing easy is worth having,” Varyl said after a moment. “You’re the one who taught me that lesson.”
“True, though there are always exceptions,” Darkstone replied mildly. He sat down in his throne and beckoned me over. I crept forward until he placed his hand on my back and lowered me down onto his knee. “The mundane can be still beautiful at times, and you, my dear, are anything but mundane…”
“His Excellency is most kind,” I whispered.
Darkstone chuckled and gently lifted my chin with his fingers. “Don’t hide those gorgeous eyes of yours. I’d pay a thousand sovereigns just for them.” He curled his left arm around my waist and pulled me all the way into his lap. My legs hung over his, and he traced his fingers up and down my bare thighs. “You’ll dine with me this evening, my dear. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful, my lord,” I told him, smiling as warmly as I could. It wasn’t entirely disingenuous—I could feel Varyl’s heated glare on my back as his father pulled me away. I doubted that Darkstone was actually trying to protect me, but I was still thankful for the reprieve.
“I do wish that Gabriel had been able to attend himself,” Baron Ornosa added. The middle-aged, heavy-set man barely seemed to have noticed me at all. His eyes had been fixated upon Duchess Cassandra ever since I had first spotted him. “I know he would appreciate the reprieve from the Imperial Court. I can’t imagine living in Sanctum and dealing with those haughty shits every day.”
“You wouldn’t survive for ten minutes with that mouth of yours,” Darkstone jested. “Remember, the Veshari are so much cultured than us ‘provincials.’”
Everyone nearby shared a mirthful chuckle. I had sensed Darkstone’s animosity towards the Sanctum elite from the moment we’d arrived, but the aura of disdain was practically palpable here. Master had explained to me that the various provinces were always engaged in a simmering culture war. The closer a noble’s proximity to Sanctum, the more he believed in the superiority of his own tastes.
After another few minutes of idle chat, one of the servants rang a bell as the others brought out the first course. The guests quickly took their seats, and I had to consciously fight the impulse to lick my lips as the smell of stew wafted through the chamber. I suddenly regretted the fact I’d eaten so well these last few days off leash. I could normally ignore food when necessary, but now…
“Would you like a bite, my dear?” Darkstone asked. He chuckled when I blinked in confusion. “It’s all right. My chef is the best in the Vale, as I’ve sure you’ve noticed.”
“I-I am fine, my lord,” I stuttered. “You are very kind to offer.”
“A gentleman always acts with courtesy, even towards his possessions,” he said. “It’s a pity that so many of my contemporaries refuse to see this.” His fingers crawled up my thigh until they reached my waist. “This is something your dark elf cousins refuse to understand. Bondage does not necessitate mistreatment. In the Vale, our miners are given ample food and rest. Our field hands are endowed with great responsibility. Even our avenari enjoy plenty of luxuries unheard of in other provinces.”
Darkstone grunted. “Just because the Triad created your people serve does not mean they created you to be miserable. There is grace in subservience to your betters. I’m sure you agree.”
“Absolutely, my lord,” I replied carefully. “I take great joy in bringing my master pleasure.”
He chuckled again as he ran one of his fingers between my breasts. “My father warned me that I should never trust a woman while her tits were in my face. But with you I think I’ll make an exception.”
I smiled and leaned my chest closer to him. “Is there anything in particular I can offer you, Your Excellency?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet,” he told me. “Relax and enjoy the festivities. I’m sure you’ll find the performance…inspiring.”
I followed his eyes to the empty area between all the tables and wondered what he meant. But then, just as the guests began to feast, the doors on the opposite side of the chamber opened and revealed three naked faeyn males carrying a thick purple-brown cushion between them. My brow reflexively furrowed in confusion.
Before I could even guess at their intentions, they strode into the gap between the tables and set the cushion down, then abruptly turned and stood in front of Duchess Cassandra’s seat. Now that they were standing closer, I could see small branding marks on their necks that matched the coat of arms of three of the families in attendance this evening.
“Since this is the first gala of the year, my wife has been granted the choice of sire this evening,” Darkstone whispered into my ear. “They all seem impressive enough to me. Which would you choose, I wonder?”
“Um,” I stammered, my mind reeling at the strange ritual. The Duchess looked upon each of the men with thinly-veiled boredom as she sipped at her stew.
“You’ve never even been taken by one of your kind, have you?” Darkstone asked with a soft chuckle.
“N-no, my lord,” I managed. “Such couplings are forbidden without Covenant approval.”
“Ah yes, of course. Still…you must have a preference.”
I wondered if this was some kind of test, but if so I had no idea what he was hoping to learn. “The one on the right. He seems the most…sturdy.”
Darkstone nodded. “I imagine my wife will have a different preference…”
Duchess Cassandra was only a few feet away, but I doubted she could actually hear us whispering over the din of conversation and silverware. Eventually she pointed at the men in rapid succession—first the middle, then the left, then the right—before returning her eyes to Larric and whispering something into his ear. The faeyn men bowed, then quickly spun on the heels and knelt down in front of the cushion.
A few moments later the door opened again, but this time a naked faeyn woman stepped forward. A long mane of red hair draped down her shoulders nearly to her waist, and I didn’t see any markings on her body, including her stomach. It was only then I finally understood.
The males were here to attempt to impregnate her, and the Duches
s had chosen the order in which they would copulate. In Sanctum, such a choice would be handled in private…but Darkstone obviously enjoyed flaunting his lack of Covenant supervision whenever possible. This display was meant as both a show of power and as a visual feast for his guests.
I shook my head in wonder as the woman reclined on the cushion and slowly spread her legs. The male Duchess Cassandra had selected glanced back over his shoulder, nodded to the royal family, then crawled forward and placed his lips upon the woman’s quim. She rested her hand on his head as he feasted upon her, and I could see his cock swelling in anticipation.
Some of the guest chuckled or jeered, but most appeared downright enthralled. I certainly was. In Glorinfel and in Sanctum, breeding was private but still monitored. Any faeyn coupling needed to be approved by the Covenant, and the slaves’ owner or owners were supposed to monitor the act. Both parties wore masks or hoods to conceal their identities, and the males always mounted females from behind. Once he spilled his seed, the male was taken away and rarely exposed to the same female again.
According to Master Kristoff, the Covenant feared potential relationships or familiar bonds between slaves. Children were raised communally, typically by sterilized or crippled females, before they were taken to auction upon their fourteenth birthday. The process was so common, so regimented, that I had difficulty conceiving of any alternatives…which was probably the point.
“She’s ready,” Darkstone commented. He tapped the small bell at the edge of his throne, and the male immediately lifted his head and prepared to mount the female instead. He buried himself inside her with a single thrust, and several of the guests cheered him on as the servants cleared their plates and prepared the meal’s next course.
I watched, mesmerized, as the male settled into a comfortable rhythm. The female locked her ankles around his waist and placed her hands upon his back. The coupling was so passionate I wondered if they’d known each other beforehand. The more likely possibility was that they had instructed by their owners to give the Grand Duke’s guests a good show.