Amarice bit her lip, unsure what to say. The memory of crawling on the forest floor in pain and chewing the melaleuca leaves came flooding back. She would have let herself collapse in agony if not for the thought of returning to Quinn. She had not fought for her life to fulfill her duties as Sage, but instead to see Quinn again. Now that she no longer faced death, her fear of love and heartbreak had returned in earnest.
For the moment, at least, she needed to be the Sage. “Have you learned anything about the attackers? I know they were taking me to a man named Charles to ‘answer for my sins’ as they put it.”
The King shook his head. “The prisoner will not speak much. He prays to two gods and a goddess. We did not know about this Charles; I will inform the Chief Inquisitor that we have a name.” The King took a seat behind his desk. A look of fear passed over his face. “Amarice. These men that took you. What did they...How did they…?” He could not finish his sentence.
Amarice looked confused. Quinn clarified. “My lady,” he said with an odd formality to hide his emotion. “We have wondered whether they—took advantage of you. In the worst way.”
For the first time, Amarice sat on the sofa. Quinn remained standing. Rape was punishable by death in Elandria. But that was not why these two men looked concerned; they had feared greatly for her safety. Amarice sighed. “No.” She replayed the conversations of her kidnappers in her mind. “The one you have in the cells…he wanted to. He was rather obscene. But the others warned him my evil would rub off on him.” She laughed a dark laugh. “Good thing I am evil, I suppose.”
Anger flashed over Quinn’s face. She looked away, unable to bear the emotions he kept revealing despite his best efforts. She spoke again, matter-of-factly informing the King what else she had learned. Charles, whoever he was, was behind the other attacks. The men had said they would arrive in three days’ time if they had been able to get a new horse. Surely the Inquisitor could learn something from that.
“I want to see the prisoner.” For the first time since waking, Amarice slipped into her authority as the Sage. The King opened his mouth to protest, but she fixed him with a stony stare. He nodded.
“Raymond will return from Parliament soon. I will have him escort you down to the cells.”
Amarice thanked him and took her leave to rest until Raymond returned. Quinn followed her in silence. When they reached their rooms, she told Quinn to rest on his own bed and promised to wake him before visiting the prisoner. Then she disappeared into her room.
***
Quinn lay on his bed, unable to sleep. Tears of relief ran down his face. Though the Healers had assured him she would recover, a part of him feared he would never see her again. And the first word she had uttered in a week was his name. His heart ached. He wanted to take her in his arms, to kiss her soft lips. But she had just been through a terrible trauma. He would wait.
An hour passed before he heard a knock. He wiped his wet face and smoothed his hair before opening the door. Raymond and Amarice stood before him. “Let’s go see the bastard,” Raymond said. Amarice said nothing, her face expressionless.
“Just a moment,” Quinn said. He stepped further inside to the dresser and took something from the top. “My lady, I think you lost something.” He handed her the Sage’s diadem, freshly cleaned and polished by the King’s jeweler. No trace of blood remained on the silver; the gems sparkled.
Amarice gave him a smile and took the diadem from Quinn. She studied it, turning it over in her hands. She had not given a thought to it at all. There were times she hated being the Sage. It was lonely and came with a responsibility to millions of people that she did not always want. But in this moment, her power flooded through her veins with fury. One of the men targeting both sets of her people sat in a prison cell floors below them, a man with answers. A man who feared her for her power. Good, she thought. Let him be scared. She placed the diadem atop her head, and felt herself stand taller, stronger.
Quinn and Raymond stared at her. Her beauty was immense, her power more so. She straightened her diadem and rolled back her shoulders. She gave no sign that she had just woken from a poppy-sleep, no sign that a week ago, she had been found bleeding in the woods. And though in their presence, she usually put on no ceremony, in this moment, both men knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the most powerful person to ever live.
She gave them a terrifying grin and a wink. “Now we can go see the miscreant.” Raymond led the Sage and her apprentice down to the prison cells. Below the palace, the ancient catacombs were dark and lined with flaming torches. The stone walls dripped with moisture. Quinn had to duck through many of the walkways, though the Prince and the Sage had no issues.
A feeling of apprehension settled over Quinn. With the open flames on the wall, he worried his magic would fly out of control. The last time he had seen this man, he had knocked him into unconsciousness. But then he saw what they had done to Amarice. He felt a primitive urge to rip the man to shreds; indeed, he had imagined killing the bastard many times over the last week.
They turned a corner, and the prison guards greeted the Sage with awe. She gave only a curt nod in response. The image of Amarice’s destruction flooded Quinn’s mind. She doesn’t need anyone to kill him for her, he thought. But the protective urge did not go away.
Raymond grabbed a torch from the wall and stopped at the end of a dark tunnel. “Wake up, you piece of shit,” he said to the prisoner inside the cell. There was no princely decorum in his voice. “You’ve got a visitor.”
“I already said I won’t talk!” the man cried.
Amarice stepped to the front of the cell; Quinn followed. The prisoner screamed at the sight of her. “SORCERESS! DEMON!”
“Oh, stop that awful noise,” the Sage commanded with a sharp authority. To Quinn’s surprise, the man stopped screaming. “Tell me about Charles.” The man whimpered, but he shook his head no. Amarice fixed him in her gaze. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I think. You can tell me if I’m right.” She paused, waiting for a response. “Blake, I think you were a nice man, once. Nice, but weak. You had no power, no one took you seriously. And then you met a man named Charles. And Charles was kind and vibrant, and he understood you. You and all the other weak, powerless men. Charles convinced you that you were strong, and that the Scholars and the Deyoni had taken your rightful power as men.” She studied the man in front of her who quivered in fear. “How am I doing?”
“You’re evil, sinner,” he managed to say, though his voice shook.
“Oh, yes. You poisoned me, kidnapped me, and beat me. You planned to deliver me to be tortured and killed. But I'm the one with the questionable morals. Of course." Behind her, Quinn stifled a laugh. The prisoner ducked his head. “Where was I?” she asked. “Oh, yes. Charles convinced you that men had the rightful power over the earth, over women, over the Parliament in Teleah, over everything. And you believed him. Because he validated your insecurity. And for him, you would do anything.”
At this point, she knelt to the ground in front of the man to look him straight in the eyes. The man shook violently in fear. “Let me be clear, Blake. You are weak. You are powerless. And you always will be. You let some man make decisions for you, letting you believe you had some sort of power over the world. But really he had power over you.” She touched her hand to the ground, and the earth began to shake, rattling the metal bars of the cells. The man cried out in terror. “You have no power. No one has power over the earth. The earth has power over us. Yes, even me. Where do you think our magic comes from? You are nothing more than a speck of life that the earth allows to live.” She removed her hand from the ground, and the catacombs stopped shaking. “Remember that. And if you decide to tell the guards where to find Charles, you will regain some semblance of the decency you once had.”
Amarice stood, took the torch from Raymond, and walked away. Quinn took one last glance at the man, then turned to follow her. The guards looked at the Sage in wonder as she handed them the torch a
t the end of the tunnel. She said nothing the entire walk back to the rooms. As she reached the door, she said, “We return home tomorrow,” then disappeared into her room.
Raymond and Quinn stood in the hallway, looking at each other, unsure what to make of the situation. Quinn cleared his throat. “There’s a reason she’s the Sage, isn’t there?”
Raymond laughed. “I don’t know about you, my friend. But I have never been more terrified or aroused as I was in the catacombs just now.” He laughed again, shaking his head and walked away without a goodbye.
Quinn knew exactly what he meant.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The carriage left the city through the northern gates, and Amarice breathed a sigh of relief. Home was just a few hours away. She looked out the window, staring at the town and the countryside beyond. The day had dawned bright and cloudless. The summer sun shone high in the sky, and the trees and grasses were the greenest Quinn had ever seen. Soon, the air would grow crisper and the leaves would begin to change. But today, the sun matched his mood: he, too, was glad to be returning to the Villa. He was glad Amarice sat before him on the carriage seat, healthy and glowing.
He watched her as she stared out the window. She had swept her unpinned hair over her left shoulder, leaving her right shoulder bare. She wore a dress the color of the summer leaves, thin and gauzy, gathered behind her neck. She had placed the Sage’s diadem in her satchel the moment the carriage had left the palace. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she was just Amarice again.
The town gave way to the colorful Deyoni camps. Today, no crowds of Deyoni ran alongside the carriage. Amarice had requested an unmarked carriage to avoid the attention. “I just want to get home in peace,” she had told the King.
An hour passed before Amarice spoke. “The Healer said you never left my side.” Quinn shifted uncomfortably. He wanted Amarice, but he did not want to rush her after what she had been through. And she had previously rejected him. Twice. He opted to say nothing and waited for her to continue. “Why?” she asked after several moments.
He sighed. “Do you not know, Amarice?”
She turned her head from the window and met his eyes. “After everything these last few months, you still love me?”
“Oh, Amarice. I love you more with every passing day.” She dropped her eyes to her lap and fiddled her thumbs. “And I think you love me, as well.”
She kept her eyes turned downward. “Of course, I do. But…” Her voice trailed. He deserved an explanation of her inhibitions. After all he had done for her, after keeping vigil at her side. “Quinn, I love you too much to take you into my bed only to have you leave in a few months’ time.” She forced herself to look at his face, but it hurt too much. She dropped her gaze again.
Quinn looked confused for a moment, then a smile spread across his face. He laughed. Amarice’s jaw dropped at his response. “What?” she asked, taken aback.
“You are the most powerful Sage to ever walk the earth. You can have any lover you choose. And you are afraid I’m going to break your heart? Me?” He laughed again. The Sage was afraid this shy, inexperienced young man was going to hurt her.
“Well…yes.”
He stopped laughing and his face softened. He reached across the carriage and took her small hand in his strong one. “Amarice. I will not break your heart.” A tear ran down her cheek. “Look at me, my love.” She turned her wet eyes to meet his warm, brown gaze. “I will not break your heart.” And she believed him.
He leaned forward and wiped her tears with his thumb. She brought her face closer to him and tentatively set her lips on his. He parted his lips in response, and she kissed him with more confidence. He met her kiss with vigor, and ran his hand through her hair.
Quinn pulled her across the carriage, and she straddled his lap in the carriage seat. He breathed in her scent as they kissed, getting drunk off her intoxicating presence. She nibbled his lip, and he grew hard underneath her. She giggled seductively.
He moved his mouth to her neck, and she moaned in response. He ran his hands over her bare spine to the top of her neck, where he unfastened her dress. It fell over her, revealing her supple breasts. Quinn kissed her neck and worked his way lower. She cried out in pleasure.
Amarice rocked her hips back and forth over his erection. She had never wanted anyone more than she wanted him in this instant. She moved her hands under his shirt, rubbing his chest, before she decided he did not need to be wearing it a moment longer. She tugged the shirt over his head. Now beautifully bare-chested, he returned his attention again to kissing her.
When she could take it no longer, she shifted enough to unlace his pants and reveal his manhood. He groaned in her ear. She gathered the skirt of her dress in one hand, and he lifted her onto him, moaning loudly at her wet warmth that covered his hardness.
She rode him, seated, as the carriage continued to draw closer to the mountains. But neither gave any thought to where they were. The only thing that existed was the two of them, finally together as one. She placed one hand on his chest, over his heart, as he kissed her. She moved her hips up and down, relishing the feeling finally being one.
Quinn wound his fingers in her hair as she sped up her rhythm. Nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect as Amarice on top of him. His breathing quickened. She went faster, moaning, until her body quaked and she cried out in ecstasy. Quinn ran his hands down her spine and lifted her buttocks still faster, until he thought he would burst in pure euphoria. He, too, cried out in pleasure as he spilled himself inside of her, months of desire releasing into the woman he adored.
Amarice kissed him softly. She stayed in his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She laid her head against his chest, her breaths slowing. Quinn breathed in the flowery scent of her hair as he ran one hand over her back. He closed his eyes. This was how it was supposed to be.
After several minutes, Amarice pulled her head away and smiled at him, eyes glazed from pleasure. “I love you, Quinn Atwell.”
“I love you, Amarice Teyvana, Sage of Elandria.” He smiled as he caressed her cheek. “I love you, and I realized this week I cannot be without you.”
She pulled herself off him, then laid across the carriage seat, head in his lap. “In the woods, my biggest fear, my only fear, was that I would never see you again.” He stroked her hair, and she felt safe. She yawned.
He placed one hand on her stomach and touched the small scar where the first Healer had let out her hemorrhaging. He remembered how scared he had felt as he paced the Healer’s front room, and he hoped he would never feel that fear of losing her ever again. “Sleep, my love. You’re safe.”
She closed her eyes. Quinn watched her as she drifted into sleep, studying her perfect features. The horses trotted steadily toward the Villa, and the movement lulled Quinn into sleep. He leaned his head against the wall of the carriage and drifted into a peaceful slumber, the woman he loved under his arms.
***
The carriage stopped abruptly, jolting both Quinn and Amarice awake. Quinn glanced out the window as Amarice squinted, trying to regain her senses. “Amarice, we’re home,” Quinn said. Amarice shook herself to wake up, and retied her dress behind her neck. “Where’s my shirt?” he asked her.
She looked at him blankly for a moment then began to laugh hysterically. He grinned at the ridiculousness of the situation, as well, and fumbled for his shirt. The carriage driver opened the door as Quinn pulled the shirt over his head. Amarice lost it again at the expression on the driver’s face. “Sorry,” muttered Quinn, turning a light shade of pink.
The driver said nothing as he helped the Sage down the carriage steps. Quinn followed, carrying both of their bags. He turned around to look at the mountains that he called home, breathing in the fragrant summer air. Amarice had stopped laughing as she, too, turned to take in the beauty of the Sage’s Mountains and the glistening stone expanse of the Villa. Tears ran down her face. “I missed it so much,” she
whispered. Quinn placed a hand on her shoulder in comfort. She sighed, composing herself. “Come,” she said. “Let’s go see the family.”
As they entered the garden, Madge ran out of the Villa, shrieking and crying. She threw her arms around Amarice. The rest of the permanent residents and the visiting Scholars made their way into the garden to greet their mistress. Daisy’s red hair trailed behind her as she ran through the courtyard and out the main doors. She pushed Madge aside and pulled her dear friend into a strong embrace.
Madge then threw her arms around Quinn in the way only a motherlike figure could. “I’m glad you’re home safe, my boy,” she sobbed. Quinn returned the embrace with love. For the first time in his life, he felt he really belonged: here, with Amarice and the others who considered him family. He swallowed, determined not to cry.
Everyone greeted them with hugs and well-wishes. Finally, Madge yelled at everyone to make room so Amarice could come inside. “You must be exhausted, my dears. Are you hungry?” The head-of-house barked at two servants to take Quinn and Amarice’s satchels and fetch something to eat. Madge wrapped her arm through the Sage’s and took her to the salon. The regular residents followed, glad to once more be in her presence.
One of the maids brought in crusty bread and cheese. It occurred to Quinn that they had missed lunch, although the palace cook had sent them with a basket of food. He smiled to himself as he remembered the course their journey had taken, shoving a huge bite of bread into his mouth to distract his thoughts.
Amarice finished eating and stood. “Madge, I think I would like to go to bed. I hope you do not take offense at my abrupt departure.”
Madge hugged Amarice close one more time. “Of course not, my dear. I’m just glad you are home safely where you belong.” The older woman dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron.
“Me, too.” Amarice began to cross the room. Quinn sat, unsure what to do. He wanted to follow her, but she was heading to her private quarters. He watched her hips sway as she walked. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to meet Quinn’s eyes. “Are you coming, Quinn?”
The Sage's Consort (The Scholars of Elandria Book 1) Page 17