Highest Lord

by R. J. Price

  “We all speak the same language from birth until death,” the lord said.

  “Which means that you know what the word stop means.”

  “I do.”

  Aren turned to Av. “I gave him the benefit of the doubt, but it appears your first instincts were correct. I might have saved myself time, had I allowed you to act.”

  She had just told him to obey. His mind was still reeling in confusion. Her stern tone had been enough to dull the edge of his temper. Slowly he came back to himself. He bent slightly to the side and looked at the lord who was still standing there, frowning.

  Not in confusion, but in annoyance.

  Whatever was expected of him, Av was confused. He looked at Aren, then to the lord, then back to Aren.

  Swearing, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He was done with playing games, done with fighting with lords or trying to work around everyone else. The lord tried to stop him, but Av simply shoved the man out of the way and marched off the dais where the head table stood. No one else in the hall tried to stop him as he left, parting to make way.

  Out of the hall, he almost stopped at the first open door, but decided to continue on. He made his way through the palace to the queen’s rooms and walked in. Carefully, he set his cargo on her feet, then turned and locked the door. When he turned back, Aren was smiling.

  Then she giggled.

  He was close enough to her to feel the tingle of magic through his skin.

  “I got confused,” he said.

  Which only made her giggle more. Aren laughed until she ran out of breath. Wiping tears from her eyes, she moved to the nearest chair to sit and continued with a quiet laugh.

  “What did you do to me?” he asked.

  “It's called obedience,” she responded, drawing her feet up. Her skirts seemed to stop her from achieving the position she wanted.

  Aren stood and the dress loosened. She stripped it off and, in nothing more than a slip, sat in the chair, drawing her legs up to fit herself into the seat. No part of her touched the floor, the way she sat causing the slip to move up just slightly, exposing her upper thigh.

  “What is obedience?” he asked.

  “It is what it sounds like,” she said. “I read about it in one of the books. It's something a queen can do. It's like the commands we can give, which I don't fully understand how to use yet, only different. The main difference being that most of its strength comes from the bond between the queen and the one she is commanding to obey. Unlike a command, you are compelled to do as I say. It’s almost impossible to resist.”

  “But you just said obey,” he said.

  “Which startled you long enough to keep you from killing the high lord of the West,” Aren said.

  “That was...” Av trailed off, feeling a sick, sinking feeling. “He's no children to inherit. I thought my father said he was a good man.”

  “No, he said the high lord of the West would find it amusing that we sent a servant to him. Telm did deliver his thanks to me, but the man is shallow and serves only himself. Of them all, he is the most ridiculous. You did meet him before—did you not recognize him?”

  “I pushed him off the dais.”

  “But you didn't kill him, which was the point,” Aren said. “As much as it's supposed to be good luck, I'm not certain I can handle blood and gore. Let's recall what happened when I saw the messenger's wound.”

  “You didn't lose your last meal, as most ladies would have,” he responded.

  “I don't want to talk about that,” she said.

  “Fair enough, I didn't cart you in here for talk.”

  “I want you to strip for me,” she said, running a hand over her leg.

  He pulled off the tie and tossed it to her. She caught it and pulled the knot out of it. With the length of tie pulled between her hands, she looked at him, questioning silently.

  “Well, if you're willing to play, we can play,” he murmured with a slow smile as his fingers worked to get the shirt untucked from his pants.

  “Play?” she asked.

  Dragging the shirt over his head, Av tossed it to the side and approached the chair. He took the tie from her and then took her hands gently. He tied her hands together, tightening only enough to put a pressure on her wrists.

  He held up the length left over. “This isn't tight enough for you to not get out of.” She was interested, for a moment, but then panic set in. He saw the change in her face even though she said nothing in protest. He untied her hands and dropped the article of clothing to the side. “It's not about being uncomfortable.”

  “But you enjoy that?”

  He didn't enjoy the type of lifestyle his uncle and aunt led, but he had to admit there was something to seeing a powerful woman tied up and awaiting the pleasure he would give her. He could even see, though he wasn't certain why, enjoying being tied by Aren.

  “I must admit, seeing your hands tied is quite enticing,” he murmured. “Odd, though, as your hands don't need to move for you to do me a great deal of damage. We can play another day.”

  “I didn't mind it,” she said.

  “I think we can discuss that another night. Right now, I've got you alone, in your rooms, and I do believe there's a very old tradition of claiming things by having sex atop them. I see a great many things in this room which I have not had sex upon.”

  “I liked it...”

  “Another day,” he said quietly, reaching for her bracelet.

  He swore it was the same one she had been wearing when he had rescued her. He kissed the skin just above the bracelet and caught sight of his own hand.

  He still wore the ring made of queen's stone, just as he always carried the ring that had been made for Aren in his pocket. Reaching into the pocket, he pulled out the ring, surprised that it was still there after the activities of the day.

  “What's that?” Aren asked.

  “A ring the jeweller made for you. He made one for me as well. I was supposed to give this to you when I found you, but I seem to have forgotten.”

  “Is this a mating ring?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said while slipping it onto her left ring finger, then kissed her hand. “No man with a mind between his ears will try anything on you, nor a woman on me. Word will spread that the mate and the throne wear the same ring and that is how they shall know to part as you pass. You are mine, I am yours.”

  “And I am yours,” she murmured, looking at the ring. “Such a little, pretty thing to cause so much trouble as queen's stone can.”

  “I could say something very similar about the woman wearing the ring.”

  “That I'm trouble?” she asked.

  “But such a pretty little thing,” he murmured.

  Chapter Forty

  Url stood breathlessly to the side as Nae slipped through the crowd, moving back to him. The healer was stony-faced, stopping just short of him and looking at the glasses in his hand. There was a rage about the woman that spoke of personal experience.

  He was not allowed to kill people who belonged to palace lands.

  “Did you manage to get close enough?” he asked quietly, handing her the glass that he judged to have more liquid in it.

  She snatched the glass from him, downed the champagne and held out the empty in exchange for the other one. That received a similar treatment, but was replaced by a servant slipping up with a wine glass that clearly did not have wine in it. As wine and champagne was all that was to be served until the children went to bed, it wasn't something to question. Both the servant and Nae would be in trouble for having something stronger.

  Then Url recognized the servant. Wena, dressed in plain serving grey, slipping back into the crowd, unnoticed by anyone but him. He might have gone after the woman and questioned her, but Nae was there and she had to be seen to first.

  “Yes, I did, though he nearly saw me,” she said.

  “And?” he pressed.

  “I'm sorry, are you mate to the throne?” the healer demanded.
“I swore to him that I would do this for him, to allay his fears. Turns out I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  Url looked around for Cerlot, causing Nae to glare at him. “What? I'm not stupid.”

  “Nor am I. If we touch a hair on either of their heads, Av will take his rage out on us instead of them.” Nae sighed. “I might survive. You would not. Then the North would go to war with palace lands, and then where would we be?”

  “The North won't go to war and Av would not take me down, but I won't go looking for a fight either,” he said. “The question is, can you resist the temptation?”

  “Temptation?” Nae asked. “When he is ready to make his move, he will come to me and ask my help in the matter because as much as he will rage, he needs both alive, well, and breathing. She may have cut them off, but they are still the ones who birthed her. That means no death, no crippling, just instilling a fear that is everlasting.”

  “Healers shall not be used to the purpose of a warrior's rage,” Url said.

  “Sounds like you're quoting something,” Nae said.

  “I am. It's the agreement between healers and warriors. We protect you, we allow you to gather and pass on your knowledge even if our queens think you are a threat to us. You heal a warrior above a commoner in times of war, to put him back in the field. In return for these services you cannot be used to do what you just suggested. Av may not be aware of the agreement, but I will be certain he knows of it.”

  “He has not asked me to do any such service. I would offer it willingly.”

  Url felt a possessive chill wash over him. He wanted to pet her, hold her, care for her. All while wishing he knew who had put such a thought into her head so that he might bleed them dry.

  He didn't quite recall what happened after they had left the hall that night. His next full memory was Telm dumping a bucket of icy cold water on him and Nae being long gone. Her scent barely lingered in the room, not that there was much smell to the healer to start with.

  When he had gone to the healer hall to invite her, she had readily accepted his invitation but still made no comment on the time they had spent together. He had no idea if he would be crossing a line to even think such a thing.

  “Take this,” Nae said, thrusting her glass at Url.

  He took the glass and watched her rush off to the dance floor, lavender skirts swirling around her as she spun around and took hold of the first body she found.

  The musicians were not playing.

  Url watched as commoners all began drifting across the floor in a waltz. All belonging to palace lands. The two high lords who were also commoners stood to the side, watching with wide eyes. There were too many to fit the dance floor and the crowd began moving together, dancing to some song that he could not hear.

  Why could Nae hear it?

  She had rank just as much as he had.

  “The ones that touched her or partook in something stronger than wine,” Jer snarled into Url's ear, startling him into nearly dropping the glass. “I've never seen this before, have you?”

  “No, goodness no. We spread rumour of queens doing this, to protect them,” he hissed in response. “This is, I mean, I've heard myth of this, but they'd all have to be...”

  He looked down at the glass of drink Wena had thrust into Nae's hand. The commoners were reacting to something beyond themselves because they were nothing more than people. They had no defences against rank. There was no more to them than the shallow, brittle exteriors.

  Wena sat on the head table, not at it, but on it, right where Aren had sat before. In the seats behind her the children sat, eating sweets, giggling to one another and ignoring the adults below them. Ranked children were more capable at blocking out emotions they could not understand.

  There was something very, very dangerous about the way the handmaid watched the crowd and placed herself between them and the children.

  He turned to Jer. “Get Anue out of here, now. Take Mie as well—make an excuse.”

  “Why?” his cousin asked.

  “The children aren't feeling it because they don't understand adult emotions,” Url hissed out. “Anue's come to her time. She's blooming as a queen.”

  “She's also afraid of men,” Jer said as he slipped away from Url and through the commoners.

  They could do nothing without fear of inciting the commoners. Even removing Anue might cause a problem if a man amongst the dancers had his eye on the little queen. Url caught a man by the arm and spun him, away from the head table where he had been heading to. Without a question, he dealt the man a blow and walked off, not caring that he gave no control to the strike.

  There was a very good chance that the commoner was dead, but he'd be damned if he allowed harm come to a child simply because nature matured her body faster than her mind.

  Jer and Ervam were at the head table and speaking with Anue and Mie, who stared up at them. Ervam motioned to all the children, then to Anue and over his shoulder. Obviously telling her to gather the children and that it was her duty as the eldest amongst them all.

  Relief flooded him as the children gathered at Anue's bidding.

  “Url, come dance with me,” Nae said, stumbling into him.

  She frowned at him, then trailed her hands down his arm and lifted his hand, where blood flowed freely. He had struck the man with the hand that had held the glass. The healer removed a shard, dropping it to the side as she looked up into his eyes.

  “I feel funny,” she said. “In a laughable sort of way. What's going on?”

  He assumed she was back to her own mind for but only a moment. With gentle hands, he drew her away from the dancing commoners.

  “I'm not certain, but I believe you affected by it because of the drink.”

  “The servant gave me something?” Nae asked.

  “No, no, she simply gave you drink that was stronger than wine. There are a few ranks moving as well. They partook in stronger drink, just the same as you.”

  “It's not a bad feeling.”

  “What's it feel like?” he asked.

  “Like you've slid between my legs,” she purred out, reaching for his face.

  She caught her hand halfway there and frowned. Ever so slowly, Nae came back to herself. Her rank seemed to slip away as he watched. Hiding herself from something bigger than herself. She was of her own mind only once she was very nearly invisible to his very eyes.

  “You were here before,” she said.

  “They didn't have sex before,” he responded. “They did things, no doubt about that, but this is a different sort of relief. No one is going to question them. They're mated and now have a legal right to execute anyone who tries to get between them.”

  “Where's Danya?” Nae looked around, moving around Url to stand on a chair so that she had a better view. “Danya!”

  “Why are you calling Danya?” he asked.

  “Threesome?” Nae asked.

  He knew she was joking, but that didn't stop him from seeing black cloud his vision. Nae didn't know Danya's relation to him, not unless Danya had told the healers.

  “No,” Danya said, appearing at Url's side. “That's not nice to tease, dear. It seems I am related too close to him for that.”

  “We need to get you back to the healer hall,” Url said quickly.

  “The commoners are already pairing off,” Nae said.

  “Do none of you know how to guard?” Danya asked. “Close your minds.”

  “Close my mind?” Url asked.

  “Like when you used to do something foolish and your mother went looking for you,” Danya said. “You grew up around queens. That ought to make sense to you. Ah, there you go, almost gone even to my sight. Go poke your mother boy. Give your father some distraction.”

  “What?” Url squeaked out. “If I poke her, she'll lash out at me.”

  “But you are all but invisible to her magic,” Danya said.

  “Which means she and my father will have sex and it'll have been my doing,” he said, fe
eling a sinking feeling in his stomach. “I know they do that, but because of my actions?”

  “Go do as Danya said, without argument, before I get distracted and fall into bed with another lord.”

  Url stared at Nae. The healer simply looked back at him as his lips curled up and he snarled through gritted teeth.

  “If any man touches you, I will wipe out his entire bloodline!”

  The commoners around them went still, then drifted away from Url as they continued their dance.

  Danya gave him a pat on the arm, then made a shooing motion. Groaning, he turned on his heel and went in search of his mother.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The palace did not function for three days. Telm, to her credit, kept a tight-knit crew of servants working throughout that time. Though older, most were nearing retirement. The servants kept up on delivering water and bringing candles about to those who needed them.

  The court hardly noticed the change. They were as taken with one another as Av and Aren were. On the third day the lights had returned, the water shortly thereafter.

  Whatever the throne had been doing, it had taken all of Aren's magic, including the extra created by her coupling with Av. Her emotions had run high, that much Jer understood through Laeder, who had kept him all but distracted for the days in which the lights were out.

  That third day, he called court. Aren's pride be damned, someone had to break the days and days without the throne being sat before the lords rose up in protest.

  Lords to one side, ladies to the other. Barons and their mates present with the high lords waiting just outside the door. Jer stood on the floor just below the throne and announced the queen.

  It wasn't until that moment that he realized he had forgotten to wake Aren and Av to attend court. The thought took hold and remained just long enough for the trickle of embarrassment to start before the door behind the throne opened and every commoner present stiffened.

  Aren walked up the three steps and took her throne. Settled there, she waited as Av walked through the same door behind her and closed it. The man paused behind the throne, to glance down at Aren, before he walked around her and sat in the chair provided for the mate.