by Tristan Vick
35
Entering a lavishly prepared bedroom suite, reserved for royal dignitaries, I find it styled with all manner of whites and golds with the occasional dash of purple for added flourish. The bed, befitting a princess, has a lovely canopy made of sheer fabrics with matching curtains, and the linens and pillows are all white as snow. A series of arched windows, with golden diamond lattices stretching all the way to the ceiling, lead out to a balcony which overlooks the heart of the city.
Lingering in the doorway like a dark specter, Dragoron bows and bids me farewell without saying so much as a word. As he backs out of the room he pulls the double doors shut. Once he’s gone I can’t help but feel as though a huge weight is lifted from me, and it’s only then that I realize how much I’ve been on guard the entire time I’ve been within the palace walls. This is the first time I’ve been alone with my thoughts and haven’t been in imminent danger.
Standing in my room alone, I take in a deep breath and look around, taking it all in one more time. Everything is so lovely, just like it’s out of a fairytale book of old, that I don’t know what to do with myself. Me in my dirty rags and leather armor. I feel like a mess.
Not long after Dragoron’s departure there is a rapping at my door. Three handmaidens come rushing in. They all have similar brown hair wrapped up in bonnets and move with purpose as if they have pressing business to attend to. Lining up before me they all curtsey. “We are here to attend you, Mistress Arianna,” the first handmaiden informs me.
With that said, they all scurry off in different directions like busy bees. One of them begins unfastening my breastplate and starts undressing me. Another gathers my clothes, armor, and weapons. The third handmaiden pulls back a room divider made of foggy glass panes with gold trim, and reveals a bath built right into the marble floor of a raised alcove. I’ve never seen anything like it.
About the size of a small pond, the bath is an oval, and could fit ten people if the need arose. I can hardly believe that a single room would have a bath this size built right into it. Growing up I heard the tales of how impressive the palace of the capital city was, but to see it in person is something else.
The woman finishes with my armor and begins to peel off my undergarments. At first I wrap my arms around my chest to hold fast to my clothes, but she grabs my wrists and forces my arms to my sides, then finishes stripping me down until I’m left awkwardly covering my bare skin.
Unclothed, I feel completely vulnerable and let my hands cover my crotch. I can’t help but feel it’s a bit awkward standing naked in front of so many servants in nothing but the skin the Goddess gave me. I wonder if this is what royalty must put up with—a constant invasion of their privacy. Do they even like it? Or do they think the servants are so far below them that in their mind it’s little more than the buzzing of unimportant insects? Either way, to me, it’s a strange sensation.
“Please, this way, my lady,” one of the handmaidens says, beckoning me toward the bath.
Before I get in, all three maidens take damp cloths and scrub my body till its raw. Fetching a nearby pitcher, the first handmaiden douses my skin with lukewarm water while the other two put my hair up in a bun, so that it won’t get wet.
Finally, taking my hands, the two maids who dealt with my hair help me into the steaming hot bath. Once I settle in, I let out a relaxed sigh and let myself float. I close my eyes and try to calm my mind.
After a few minutes, I hear the door to the room open and shut. Several soft steps approach us, and although my back is to the entrance, I hear the first handmaiden say in a submissive tone, “We’ve just finished here, ma’am.”
“Very well,” a beautiful voice affirms. “I’ll take things from here.” She claps her hands twice, and the maids line up, curtsey to me, and then scurry off like startled field mice.
I begin to turn my head to see who this head handmaiden might be when, out of the corner of my eye, I see a fancy pearl colored dress fall onto the floor. Before I can look up and see who it is, two hands cover my eyes.
“Guess who?” a sensual sounding voice asks.
“I don’t think…” I begin to say, but before I can finish my sentence, the mysterious woman slips into the bath behind me and presses her body into my back. Her soft skin slides across mine as she sinks in and I tense up.
Naturally, there’s only one woman I know who’d be so uninhibited as to simply get into the bath with me without the healthy fear of me taking of her head. I crane my neck to see if my suspicions are correct. Looking over my shoulder, I find none other than Bethriel in the bath with me. She smiles at me as though she just pulled the world’s greatest heist.
“Surprise!” she says in a sing-song voice.
“Bethriel?” I say, shocked. I wasn’t expecting to see her. In the back of my mind I was thinking it was Zarine come to torment me some more. Zarine, who always creeps into my mind when I least expect it, like some unholy parasite. She burrows in and it’s impossible to get her out. But this, I wasn’t expecting, well, this.
“Oh, my poor Arianna, you’re so tense,” she says, noticing my every muscle in my entire body is tensed up tighter than a bowstring. She glides her fingers gently up the sides of my arms, over my shoulders, and to my neck. Wrapping her slender fingers around my neck, she begins massaging me. “Relax,” she says in a soothing voice that is delicate and soft.
She begins working the stress out of my muscles with a firm thumb that penetrates deep into my flesh. It feels so good that I inadvertently let out a rather sensual moan. Embarrassed, I feel my cheeks flush. Finding a knot just toward the inside of my shoulder blade, she digs in her thumb, sending a wave of ecstasy throughout my entire body, and I groan again.
“Oh, goddess,” I sigh. “Your hands are like magic.”
“I know,” she says confidently.
Bethriel leans into me, her naked body pressing into mine, her bare breasts caressing my back, her soft skin brushing up against mine. I gulp nervously.
“What’s the matter?” she asks. “Am I pressing too hard? I can do it more softly, if you like.”
My larynx tightens up and I barely muster a squeak. “Um…no…it’s fine. Just…you know…keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Are you sure?” she asks as she applies even more pressure, digging her thumb into my lower back so hard that it gives me equal amounts of pain and pleasure. I moan.
“Don’t you dare think of stopping,” I tell her, my head bobbing to the side as I finally start to loosen up.
Bethriel whispers into my right ear, “As you wish, my mistress.” Then, unexpectedly, Bethriel begins kissing my neck and nibbling on my ears. I don’t say anything. It all feels so good, and besides, tonight she’s my servant. I’m the one who issues the commands, and she must comply.
When I’ve all but given into her act of seduction, I feel her hand wrap around my stomach, slide down past my belly button, and suddenly reach down between my thighs…her fingers searching for…
“Whoa!” I gasp, springing up.
A torrent of waves ripple out in every direction as I shoot out of the water. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask heatedly, turning around to face Bethriel.
She looks up at me with her big, innocent blue eyes. She gazes at into my eyes as though she doesn’t know what I mean. But I’m not having it.
“I thought you wanted me to keep going. To make you feel good, remember? I was just trying my best to please you.”
“It was…very nice,” I reply in all sincerity. “And I thank you. But the back massage will suffice for tonight.” After another moment, I finally say, “That will be all.”
She simply stares at me, trying to probe my emotions with that special training which allows her to read anyone she wants. But seeing as I’m a bit flustered, she backs off and gives me my space.
Climbing out of the bath, Bethriel doesn’t try to conceal her body from me, and I can’t help but feel she wants me to see what I’ll be missing. Looking
over her shoulder at me, she answers with a professional and polite response. “As you wish, Mistress Arianna.”
“Don’t do that,” I say to her.
“Do what?” she asks, playing coy. She grabs a towel which the maids left stacked on a nearby chair and begins drying herself off.
“Don’t act passive aggressive with me,” I bark, pointing my finger at her. “You crossed a line and you know it.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, taking a graceful bow. “It won’t happen again.”
It agitates me that she’s suddenly treating me like a client rather than the intimate friend she wants me to be. I’m about to scold her some more for acting like a bitch when a towel hits me in the face.
“Dry yourself off,” she says. “We have important matters to discuss.”
Peeling the towel off my face, I ask, “What kind of matters?”
She slips back into her iridescent pearl-colored dress and tucks her breasts back into place. Once they’re snug and secure, she tugs up on the dress so that it pulls flat against her curvaceous body and hugs her form so perfectly it is almost like putting on a second skin.
“A matter of this,” she says, opening a small pocket purse. Rummaging inside, she finally pulls out a vial filled with a dark purple liquid.
“And what, exactly, is that, pray tell?”
“Poison. Or, to be more precise, the poison you’re going to slip into Lord Dathrium’s drink this evening at the royal banquet.”
Once again Bethriel knows exactly what will leave me speechless. Unable to form any response, I just nod in affirmation. Apparently, the mission is still on. But now I’m starting to have serious reservations as to the nature of this mission and can’t help but suspect something more is going on than any of us are aware of.
Bethriel picks up a dress lying on the bed. It’s a strapless dress in shimmering gold, with an open back. There is also a black lace choker with a golden pendant with a round black onyx gemstone the size of an imperial coin embedded in it. If that wasn’t all, it comes with matching earrings too.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say. The young woman in me can’t be more excited about getting all glammed up for the evening, but the warrior in me is telling the woman to, at the very least, keep a cool head about it. After all, it would be rather difficult to fight in such a get up.
“I had a feeling you’d like it. I picked it out myself.”
“So that was your mission? To find me a dress?” I point in the direction of Dathrium’s chambers and yell, “I could have died in there!”
“Hear me out,” Bethriel says, holding up her hands defensively. “My instructions were to poison both Dragoron and Dathrium. But I ran into a snag. You see, I didn’t expect him to dismiss your attempts on his life or, for that matter, invite you to his banquet. But now we have the perfect chance? Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t see,” I shoot back. “None of this makes sense anymore. Everything is upside down and backward. The bad guy seems good and it seems like what we’re doing is wrong.”
“Believe me, Dathrium is no saint. If you knew half the stuff he was guilty of you’d gladly kill him yourself.”
“Maybe so, but that still doesn’t mean what we’re doing is right.”
“I gave you a chance to back out. You opted to see it through to the end. I’m counting on you to do just that. Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter. As a knight of Bellera, you swore an oath to follow any order issued by your queen.”
I scowl at Bethriel. She’s not mistaken. Although, if we’re being completely honest, Queen Sabine didn’t tell me to assassinate anyone directly. She told me to listen to Bethriel.
While I finish drying myself, Bethriel holds out the dress for me and says, “Put this on.”
Accepting the dress, I inspect it one more time, admiring how extravagant it is. Never in my life did I ever dream of a time when I’d wear one of the most luxurious dresses I’d ever seen only to attend a palace banquet. It all seems rather surreal.
Slipping into the dress, I let Bethriel fasten the collar around my neck. She leans forward and, while she hooks the clasp, her cheek brushes against mine so softly that, without intending it to, my mind flashes back to her soft fingers sliding between my legs. I bite my lip and begin dream about what could have happened if only I’d let her continue. But I push it out of my mind. My heart is meant for Alegra. And not Bethriel, not Zarine, or anybody else will stand in the way of our relationship.
Spinning around, so as to better display the dress, I ask, “How do I look?”
“To die for,” Bethriel quips.
I smile at her. It’s a good joke, but I’m still uncertain about whether I should even be doing this. I really don’t want to make the wrong move. Not before getting all the facts straight.
Bethriel does her best to console me. “I’ll be close by the entire evening. If you need me, scream out my name and I’ll be by your side in the blink of an eye.” Taking my hand in hers, she locks eyes with me and says, “I promise.”
“I understand,” I say, gazing into her sparkling blue eyes. Then, reaching into her ample cleavage, she fishes out the vial and hands it to me. I take it from her and then tuck it into my dress just underneath my left breast, where it will remain comfortably concealed until needed.
Bethriel grabs my shoulders and turns me around so that I face the vanity mirror. “Now let’s get you made up and ready for the evening’s big event.”
36
Bethriel escorts me to the banquet hall. She takes my hand in hers, kisses it, curtseys politely, and then looks at me long and hard as though she’s mentally reassuring me that I can do this. She finally takes her leave of me. As she walks away, she jokes, “Don’t be staring at my ass now, you hear?”
I laugh, but then end up watching her all the same. I hear a voice call out my name. I turn to see Lord Dathrium approach me with a jovial expression on his face.
“My dear,” he says, rubbing his ginger beard as he examines me from head to toe. “You couldn’t be lovelier even if you were the Goddess El Lunaria herself.”
“I thank you, my liege,” I say, and curtsey deeply. As if his graciousness wasn’t enough to throw me off, to make matters worse I almost lose my footing while curtseying. I’m not accustomed to being so ladylike.
Luckily, I recover my composure, narrowly escaping a bad situation and making a fool of myself in front of everyone.
Brushing down the front of my dress to chase out all the wrinkles, I settle into a proper posture and look up at Dathrium. He extends his arm for me to take and I do so.
Linking elbows, we walk leisurely toward the head of the long, t-shaped banquet table which is brimming with more courses of food than I knew existed. I spy roasted pheasant, sides of lamb, and pork chops, along with salads and garnishes of all kinds to go with it all. And the bread, my Goddess, the bread smells good.
Admittedly, I feel a little unnerved holding hands with Dathrium. Perhaps worse than the fact that I am holding hands with the man I am supposed to kill is the fact that all the attendees’ eyes appear to be focused entirely on me. They’re all likely wondering, who is this random girl? Where did she come from? And why is she hanging off Dathrium’s arm like some kind of future bride?
“Don’t mind them, my dear. They’re just envious of your beauty.”
I pause momentarily, looking up at Dathrium, and wait for his green eyes to find mine. “Why are you being so kind to me?” I ask. “I tried to kill you.”
“I meant it when I said I wanted to root out whoever was responsible for this recent series of appalling events. I may be a pale reflection of my illustrious cousin, but I have sworn an oath to do my best to carry on his legacy. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
“With all due respect, sire, that doesn’t answer my question.”
Dathrium lets out a most amused laugh. “Indeed, I suppose it doesn’t.” Patting my hand, he leans in close. “I’ve looked directly into the eyes of some
of the most cold-blooded killers in all the land, my dear. And looking into your eyes now, I do not see the eyes of a killer. I see the eyes of a scared and confused young woman who’s trying to put on a brave face.”
“Aren’t you going to interrogate me and find out who ordered me to kill you?”
“I was hoping we might eat first,” Dathrium says with a spirited laugh. “In all truth, my dear, I figured you’ll tell me when the time is right. Until that time, however, all I ask is for you to be my guest and try to enjoy all the palace has to offer.”
As we approach the head of the table, I see Dragoron standing at the front. His back is to us, and he’s talking to someone who’s just out of sight. When he steps aside to reveal who it is, I let out a small gasp. As usual, she’s wearing all black.
“You!” I hiss accusingly.
Zarine just smiles politely and curtseys. I know it must be hard for her to act like a halfway decent person. Instead of curtseying back, I just glare at her and her stupid, amazing, beautiful face.
“You two know each other?” Dathrium inquires, and glances from one of us to the next.
Letting go of my arm, he allows me to face off with my rival. Speaking through clenched teeth, I say, “Your lordship, this woman is a treacherous, double crossing snake. And she’s dangerous.”
“Ah, yes. Well, there seems to be a lot of that going around,” Dathrium jokes. “Dangerous women, that is.”
Lord Dragoron and Dathrium share a hearty laugh, then Dragoron turns to me. “I can assure you, Mistress Arianna, my apprentice will be on her best behavior tonight. Isn’t that right, Zarine?”
Zarine gives me the falsest grin I’ve ever seen. I smile back, giving her an equally fake grin, and we hold each other’s gazes as though the other were a mad bull ready to charge at any moment. Acquiescing to her master’s wishes, she answers, “As you wish, master.”