I ignored her lewd suggestion, swallowed and closed my eyes, counting to myself. “But why?” I asked, my eyes still closed, changing the subject before the empress and I wandered down the wrong path. “Why won’t you tell the emperor Oz didn’t do it?”
This wasn’t the first time the empress’s lover du jour was scheduled for execution. And it wouldn’t be the last time an innocent was caught in the bizarre game she played with her husband. All it took was a word from her to secure Lord Oswald’s freedom, yet she steadfastly refused. Why? She’d spoken up for at least two that I knew of in the past. The whole caught-with-Jewel-and-losing-his-head thing had become a joke throughout the empire over the last couple of years.
Only it didn’t seem so funny this time.
“Clear his name. Please.” I opened my eyes and offered my best pleading expression, but she was hardened against me somehow.
The empress shook her head. “I ... can’t. I’m sorry.” She tore away from my look and hid her face with one hand. Her ample chest heaved slightly and her head jerked slightly, as if she were crying.
“What did the prince ever do to you to deserve this?” I spat, angered at her pathetic plea for pity.
She turned back to me, a momentary look of panic reflected in her eyes.
As soon as I saw that look, I understood. It wasn’t Prince Oswald, it was Prince Vere. For a second she thought she’d been found out, that I’d meant the other prince. Her panic was automatic, as if her practically open affair with Vere was really a secret.
“Vere,” I said, sighing, and narrowed my eyes at her. “The emperor really doesn’t know his favorite heir is servicing his wife, does he?”
Incredible. Everybody knew what was going on between Jewel and Vere — or at least suspected it. How could the emperor blind himself to it when he was so willing to see phantom relationships everywhere he looked?
Jewel rushed to me and pressed a finger to my lips, then slowly shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
Obviously. How could she be so cold, that she could sacrifice a man for the sake of a relationship that seemed to be invisible to the one person who could end it with a single order? But her eyes betrayed a soft caring that contradicted her actions? Was there more to the story?
“Tell me, then,” I said, despite her finger brushing my lips. “I want to understand.”
The empress snatched her hand away and stepped back, shaking her head.
“Tell me,” I started to yell, frustrated. With an effort, I steadied my voice and brought the volume down a few notches. “Jewel,” I said, surprising myself with how smoothly her name came out. “I’m not going to say anything outside of this room, I promise. What would be the point? It would be your word against mine; I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
The empress sighed and leaned against the sofa again, half-sitting on its back. She put a hand to her lips, which rounded into a whispered, “Shh.” Glancing around conspiratorially, she crooked a finger at me and motioned for me to come closer.
I did, until she was nearly in my arms.
“Want to know a secret?” Jewel said.
I nodded, and she reached up to pull my head nearer. She stood on her toes and whispered in my ear. “Hunter shoots light.”
I recognized the euphemism for an infertile man, but I kept my face impassive.
“His ... burner won’t kill anything,” she tried again, a little impatiently. “Not even a rabbit, if you know what I mean.” She breathed heavily on my neck, evidently exasperated at my apparently thick head. “Let’s just say that poor Willow shouldn’t expect the pitter patter of tiny feet any time soon.”
I drew back immediately at Willow’s mention.
Jewel settled back down on her feet, smiling slyly, satisfied that she’d gotten her point across to me, finally.
“Does Willow — I mean, Lady Vere — know?”
Jewel grinned evilly and chewed on her knuckles while shaking her head. “Just you and me. And Hunter, of course.”
I noticed that Jewel hadn’t actually admitted why she was unwilling to free Prince Oswald, but I thought I understood from what she had told me. It was the perfect affair for someone in such a visible position.
Family planning was practically a science these days, but infertility wasn’t treatable unless you acknowledged it. So long as Willow didn’t know about her husband’s condition, if she was trying to conceive — and she would be trying, if she wanted to secure her position, especially if her husband did succeed as emperor — she’d do everything she could to maximize their opportunities for fertilization. And she’d probably ignore a little philandering on the side, not wanting to upset him so much that he’d divorce her. Maybe she even believed that old wives’ tale about a little spice on the side shaking up the little wigglers enough to set them on the right path.
I felt sorry for Prince Vere, actually. If Willow pursued him with the kind of passion I’d seen in her eyes, her husband probably felt downright hounded. No wonder he spent all of his time away from his wife, fawning over the emperor, organizing hunts....
I snickered at the image. Hunter, the hunted.
Jewel giggled lightly, too, though she couldn’t have known what I was thinking.
So here was the empress, involved in the perfect affair, both spouses looking the other way willfully. Then along comes Noir, making inferences about the prince. But, which prince was that? Rather than take the chance on Noir speaking the unspeakable, and losing her perfect arrangement, she let the blame fall on my prince.
Prince Oswald was headed for beheading simply because the empress’s sex drive was in high gear.
Looking down at her, chest swelling with each breath, I wondered what Hunter got out of the bargain. Was it just the obvious advantage of being romantically linked to the empress? Or was there something more? Was Jewel’s sexual performance so powerful that he couldn’t bear to give her up?
I felt myself acknowledging her charms. Jewel must have noticed, too; she cooed and leered at me.
“I have an idea, Euclid, dear,” she breathed, “since you’re so interested in discovering my secrets.” She slipped her arms around my waist and pressed her head against my chest. “Let’s play a little game. I call it ... secrets. We tell each other secrets in turns, and if the listener doesn’t know about it already, he loses a piece of clothing. If he already knows, well, then, the teller loses a piece — as a punishment for choosing a bad secret.”
Jewel suddenly looked surprised, but I could see in her eyes that it was an act. She put a hand to her mouth, which formed a small circle inside her full lips. “Oops,” she said, looking at my chest with an uncomfortable longing, “it looks like you didn’t know my secret, did you, dear?” She reached for my shirt buttons. “Off with the shirt.”
My hands automatically flew to her wrists, wrapping huge fingers around her tiny wrists, holding her hands at bay.
Jewel smiled coyly. “Naughty boy. Lady’s choice in this game, didn’t I mention that?”
Considering my options wasn’t hard, even with my heart beating madly. I’d come to bargain for my Lord’s life with a woman known for her nymphomania. What did I expect? Trading sexual favors for freedom was a time-honored tradition, far back into Old Earth’s own history. The Eternal Empire was no different. It’s just that in my experience it was usually the other way around, with men demanding something from women — or other men, in some cases. Yet, in the last week I’d found myself in this role-reversed intimate blackmail twice, with the same woman.
Did I really have a choice? Deep down, as soon as I picked up that scythe to make my own path, I knew it would come to this. So, why was I hesitating?
“Poor Oz,” the empress said, casually. She made no move to wriggle free of my grasp. “If only there was something you could do to help him....”
I let her loose and closed my eyes. She unbuttoned my shirt with expert fingers and slipped my shirt off, leaving me standing with my chest bare.
T
he empress stood back and stared admiringly.
A few years back, my Lord and I visited the Pink Velvet Lounge, a gambling institution that specialized in comely ladies from whom you could win some very special treatments — assuming you won, of course. The house was rigged, of course, but oppositely of normal gaming houses. It was almost guaranteed that the patron would win, eventually. What you lost along the way was the payment. Depending on the game, you could lose a little or a lot. How much you lost determined what kind of treatment you could ask for and get.
The house special was the Pair of Queens and a One-Eyed Jack, but Lord Oswald decided to start out small first. We engaged a couple of statuesque blondes in a friendly little game of strip poker, one of the easiest and quickest games on the menu, which meant our reward would be primarily visual, rather than tactile. We purchased a stack of chips — which we were expected to leave behind as payment — and the four of us retired to a private room and settled down to the game.
Generally, the ladies fold their hands a lot, or warn you of a good hand with obvious glee, and they’ll even make side bargains when they run out of chips. But, this time, one of the ladies, Rina, was new at the establishment, and she didn’t seem to realize she was supposed to let us win.
Worse, she was actually a good poker player.
The other girl, Soleste, kept giving her dirty looks when she didn’t think we were watching, but Rina ignored her and kept winning. Soleste, of course, lost nearly every hand, and it wasn’t long before she needed to purchase a large stack of chips from my Lord. Once she’d paid the agreed items of clothing, she was left with only her nearly-transparent panties and a faux-pearl necklace.
Rina was still mostly dressed, sitting behind a huge stack of chips, easily half of what we’d bought, maybe more.
Soleste lost the last of her clothes in short order and then bargained for more chips — with Rina’s clothes. Rina, surprised and flustered beyond the point of being able get words out of her mouth, tried to protest, but Soleste whispered in her ear for a few moments. Rina slowly nodded her agreement.
My Lord, who was not pleased with Rina until that point, accepted nothing less than all of Rina’s remaining clothes and jewelry, even the sticks holding her hair in place behind her head. Soleste accepted cheerfully and Rina stripped sulkily.
I found myself leering at Rina’s breasts, which had to be the most perfectly rounded and proportioned I’d ever seen, especially for breasts that heavy. I made no attempt to hide my admiration, but Rina stared daggers at me in return and I felt ashamed, as if I’d treated her disrespectfully, like a slab of meat waiting for me to devour her.
We played only one more round, until all their chips were gone, too, at which point we would be able to trade our chips for some more interesting entertainment. But, I lost my shirt on that round, too — literally — and Rina leered at my bare chest the same way I’d leered at her.
It made me uncomfortable, but I ignored her and suggested the Flag Raising, a more hands-on trade for our chips than was usually accepted. To my surprise, and Lord Oswald’s delight, Soleste quickly confirmed the bargain without consulting Rina.
Rina leered at me throughout the Raising, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my Lord and I had been manipulated from the beginning, in a weird variation of the Old Earth good cop, bad cop game. Maybe Rina played well on purpose, Soleste losing more than necessary, setting us up to ask for premium service, which satisfied Rina’s own desire for more intimate service with me than she should have expected.
The empress Jewel leered at me now in a haunting reminder of Rina’s gaze. She smiled and said, “Your turn, Euclid. Tell me a secret.”
If Jewel was playing Rina’s type of game, I was in for a hard fight. This time, though, there were no chips, just wits, and I seriously hoped she underestimated me. I decided to go on the attack quickly, hopefully disarming her before she had the opportunity to decide on the stakes. If I managed to disrobe her quickly, I might be able to win Prince Oswald’s freedom on Jewel’s own terms without compromising myself in the process.
Grasping at the first secret I was pretty sure she hadn’t heard yet, I blurted out, “Willow.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I’m listening.”
I told her about stealing the Raven with Willow, leaving out my attraction and, naturally, my snooping.
She looked extremely pleased at my effort. “That’s a good one. See, lover, my game’s not so hard, now is it?” She wriggled her hips suggestively out of her skirt, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. As expected, she wore red silk crotchless panties, which failed to contain her completely.
Ignoring my bulging anticipation, I bristled slightly at being called lover when we weren’t involved, yet I managed to still my tongue. There was no sense arguing semantics; I might destroy my only opportunity at my Lord’s freedom. Instead, I called for her next secret.
She lost that round, too, along with her frilly blouse. Pouting, she insisted on a fresh secret.
I continued on the attack, confessing my old crush on Lady Redwing, which took her by surprise. “Phoenix? Dear, dear Euclid, you can do so much better than that little pretender.”
Closing my eyes, I smiled pleasantly to hide my offense at Jewel’s slight. Who was she to judge Lady Phoenix that harshly? Just because she was the empress didn’t give her the right to insult the lady I’d come to think of almost as my sister to my face. My knee-jerk reaction was to grab my shirt and storm out, but I reminded myself of Prince Oswald and imagined his head rolling away from his body to get my mind back on track.
“I think you lose this round, too,” I pointed out coldly.
Jewel shrugged, her heavy breasts settling with a bounce. “So I do.” She took off her jewelry.
We played a few more rounds, and I felt my concentration scatter with my growing awareness of her nudity. Soon, I was left standing in only my pants and underwear, and Jewel had only her bra. On the last round she’d lost, she had to make a choice between her infamous panties and her bra, and she chose the panties, much to my surprise. Her pitch black hair looked soft and silky, and I found myself staring, which may have been the reason for choice. I certainly felt disoriented enough to mess up the next round, but I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and recalled my Lord’s plight. In a matter of seconds, I was focused again.
“My turn,” I said, anxiously, and moved in for the kill while I still had a chance. “Lady Redwing and Prince Oswald—”
“Oh, I know they’re engaged.” She smiled. “Lady’s choice, remember? You can keep your pants; I want your underwear.”
I puzzled for a moment how I would accomplish removing my underwear without removing my pants first, but pushed that out of my mind. “Not so fast, Jewel,” I said, quickly. “That’s not the secret. It’s about an aspect of their relationship.”
Jewel grinned. “Tell me.”
I hesitated. It occurred to me then that she could cheat in this game far too easily. Only her bra stood between me and, ostensibly, victory, whatever that was. But she needed to lose the round first, and that was decided by her not knowing my secret. And what prevented her from just claiming she knew it anyway? We were too far into this battle to make losing assumptions. I needed to hedge my bet somehow, to remove any way for weaseling out, to force her to admit she lost, no matter what.
“No, you tell me,” I said cautiously. “Why does Lady Phoenix summon the prince at three o’clock every Thursday?” I smiled with satisfaction, fairly sure that Lady Phoenix hadn’t told her.
My gamble paid off. “Why, it’s because ... she wants ... because Oz ... well, at three....”
She glared at me, exasperated. “This better be good,” she warned, “or I’ll declare it a bad secret.”
Which would mean I’d lose anyway. Maybe I was being naïve to expect her to play fairly, but I had to try. The truth was bizarre enough that she might actually accept it and concede defeat. At this point, it was the only chance I had.
>
I repeated what Lady Redwing told me.
“Damn,” Jewel muttered, “that is a good one.” She giggled. “Phoenix told you this?”
Nodding, I lied, “Asked me never to tell anyone else, too. So don’t pass it on, okay?”
The empress sighed and turned away from me to unhook her bra. She looked back at me, the bra straps hanging loosely off her shoulders, and her face reddened with embarrassment. She stepped over to her bedroom door and opened it, standing in the doorway. Slipping the bra off, she tossed it away somewhere in her bedroom and disappeared into the room after it.
There was a puzzling loud clunk, like something heavy hitting the floor.
I followed her into her bedroom, but Jewel was already in her bed with the covers pulled up to her neck. Only moments before, she had been standing before me unashamedly naked from the waist down, but now she felt the need for some modesty?
“I won that round,” I reminded her, intending to ask for my Lord’s freedom.
Before I could continue, she huffed. “I know,” she said irritably, and cinched the covers across her chest beneath her crossed arms. “But nobody has ever seen me like this.” She frowned. “Nobody. Understand?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t understand what she was doing. I looked around the room, trying to find some kind of clue to what she was talking about, but the only odd thing there was her discarded bra, a lump on the floor near her vanity. It seemed to make a larger lump than I expected, but that was probably due to the way it landed.
Or was it?
I stepped over to the fallen lingerie and stooped down to pick it up.
“Don’t,” Jewel said, sitting up suddenly, still clutching the covers as a shield for her breasts.
Noticing for the first time how close her arms pressed across her chest, I ignored her warning and picked up the bra, curious to see what she was so anxious for me to ignore.
Her bra was heavily padded, so much so that I expected only a teenager’s budding excuse for breasts would fit comfortably. Dangling the padded bra in one hand away from my body, I stood up, grinning.
Ninth Euclid's Prince Page 25