Velvet

by Xavier Axelson

  “I am coming.” His eyes returned to my face. “Forgive my tone. You know me well and I do hope Sylvain will come to court. It is time he takes his place beside you.”

  I bowed and felt some relief when I rose and saw a smile on his face.

  Before he left for where Auberon and Cale waited, he leveled his eyes at us. “Go and create, both of you.”

  It wasn’t until we were away from court and in the hallways leading to the main gates that Seton and I both exhaled loudly. Upon hearing each other, we both laughed with relief.

  “He is a man contained only by stature. He would be an animal without the cage of royalty!” Seton exclaimed.

  Before I could reply, I stopped and held a cautionary hand up to Seton. We had passed from the close shadows of the hallways and come upon the courtyard. Briar arrived and was dismounting from his carriage with the Lady Tienne. I had met her many months ago and knew her at once. She was fair and willowy of figure but with an ample, creamy bosom carefully withheld with the most recent fashions of her homeland, a country known for its progressive ways. Her auburn hair was up and her long, graceful neck bare but for a single silver strand holding a large blue stone. Her face lit up as we approached, as did Briar’s.

  “How lucky am I to see you now!” She beamed, and ignoring custom, rushed over and threw her arms around me. She smelled of orange and clove. A smell I always associated with her being.

  Her familiar gaiety cheered me. “My Lady, it has been a long while.”

  Briar came up, his eyes traveled from Seton to Tienne and finally, me.

  “And who is this fellow?” Briar asked coarsely, his brusque tone a clear front for Tienne’s benefit.

  Tienne didn’t let me go, but twisted in my arms and smiled at Seton. “I am the Lady Tienne, soon to be the bride of Sir Auberon.” She offered her hand to Seton, who took it and bowed graciously.

  “I am the humble musician, Seton, and I am most honored to meet such a beautiful lady.” He kissed her hand and added, “And I welcome the chance to play for both Sir Auberon and yourself. Although he is newly familiar with my music, I’m sure it will sound all the sweeter when you are by his side.”

  Tienne made appreciative sounds and cast her eyes at Briar, who stood stiffly beside us. “Indeed you must! I love music, and perhaps you may play at our wedding feast! Yes?”

  “Indeed, My Lady, and you should know Lord Auberon has already made this exact same request,” I answered.

  Seton appeared as happy as Tienne. “It would be my pleasure. I hope to play for you as well, My Lord. I am most rude, forgive my manner. I am overwhelmed.” He bowed low before Briar. “I am Seton, and I am pleased to meet you, Sir.”

  Briar gave a slight nod. “There is no need of apology. I am Briar, advisor to our King, friend to Lady Tienne and the tailor, Virago. I welcome you to court and look forward to hearing your talents.” He offered his hand to Seton, who took it and shook heartily.

  “Virago, I must speak to you about the vests for Auberon and the men. I have word my fiancé has already inquired after your talents, but I must insist!”

  Before Tienne could say more, Briar came and offered his hand. “My Lady, we must see your cousin. You will bother Virago later about such things, but now Duir awaits, as does Auberon.”

  “Say you will, Virago, and I will rest easy,” Tienne entreated before she took Briar’s hand.

  “You must first secure your cousin’s blessing in the task.” I knew once Tienne saw Duir’s vest she would insist on vests of velvet for Auberon and the men, never mind a dress for herself.

  “Oh, Duir can be such a bore, consider it done,” she said lightly, and before we could say more, Briar led her away.

  “They are all spoiled children!” Seton cried once we were alone.

  At this, I laughed aloud. A true and joyous laugh. My joy not only shook the cage around my heart, but broke the remaining bars.

  “I do not think my hands could sew a stitch this day! Join me in a pint of ale instead.”

  A conspiratorial gleam twinkled in Seton’s eyes. “But what of your work?”

  “I will work feverishly until dawn breaks, but now I long to be away from here and in the company of those who are not so mad,” I replied gaily. Even the pack of velvet felt lighter than it had earlier. There is time, it seemed to say as we walked and the pack bumped my body. There is time…but not now…

  “A pint will be well drunk after this day,” Seton answered as he put his arm around my shoulder. “I will follow wherever you lead.”

  “You should watch your step, today I am blind, worse than my brother Sylvain, who is completely without sight.” We maneuvered through the outer courtyards and halted once we stood outside the gates. I looked back only once. How small it seemed with the wide-open streets before us.

  “Come, let us go before the gates close and we are swallowed.”

  Chapter 9

  We made our way through the streets to the alehouse, and with every step, our bodies were drawn closer together. When Seton’s hand touched mine, I jerked away.

  He laughed. “Come with me to Therese’s tonight.”

  “It is enough that I am not within the walls of the workroom now!” I answered. “I only hope Duir is distracted and finds me not absent.” The elation I’d felt when we left the castle thrilled my heart, now on the streets I found myself wanting to retreat behind the familiar safety of caution.

  Seton seemed disappointed in my denial of his request. He moved away, so I moved closer. Our bodies touched. He tried to move away once more, but this time I grabbed his arm. “Don’t begrudge me this trepidation. You are so free and I have only just found the key to my cage. I beg your patience now.” My words were so full of longing I felt my face flush with the naked want they expressed. “I will work into the witching hours this eve and all day and night tomorrow if I am to have Duir’s vest ready in time for his coronation, but know with each stitch, my fingers will be wishing it were you they touched.”

  “Come this night,” he insisted.

  I shook my head, sadly.

  “I am unable to do what I so long to, and if you ask me once more, I will be unable to deny you. I beg you to say no more and join me here for a pint.”

  Seton brazenly took my hand, and as I tried to pull away, I felt his grip tighten. “I will say no more and welcome any time we can be together. I will not stop wanting you. I will await your relent and savor the moment when you can no longer deny yourself.” He dropped my hand and walked past me towards the alehouse a few yards from where we stood.

  Alone, the velvet by my side, I felt trapped between my talent and the needs of my heart and body.

  Have mercy, I pleaded silently. The twilight dark sky stared down at me and under its mysterious shade I prayed for my plea to be heard. Have mercy on my soul.

  * * * *

  We left the alehouse later than I expected, but I stayed my hand from the ale with steel reserve, in anticipation of a night’s work.

  Seton stumbled drunkenly out onto the quiet streets. He had not taken the same course as I.

  “I am a musician in the court of an animal!” he shouted crazily.

  I rushed a hand to his mouth. “You are mad shouting such things. Be glad the streets are empty or you would be hung for treason with such talk.” Thankfully, a stray dog set up a howl, and Seton’s words were eclipsed.

  “No, listen,” he continued, lowering his voice dramatically. “Listen, we are both in the hands of a mad animal. True, we are all animals, but he, this king, he is a special kind of beast.” He pitched forward but I grabbed him to stop him from falling. “I have come so far to end up in such a court, but what am I to do?”

  “You could leave. But don’t leave. But do let us hasten our pace.” We were less than a mile from my home.

  “How could I leave now? I must see my role through and win your heart!” He broke free from me, and gathered his lute as if to play. “I am happy to make music and be paid to do
what I love most.”

  I rushed upon him and stayed his hands. “You mustn’t play now. Come, my home is here.”

  Seton abandoned his lute and fell against me. I savored the weight of his body pressed to mine. When we came to my door, we rested. The moon, bright and silver, cast its light across the trees in the yard, making lacy shadows creep along the house. The alluring smell of honeysuckle made the darkness sultry. I could make out the line of Seton’s face, the rough edges of his chin and the curve of his shoulders. How I longed to stand and stare at him eternally.

  “I must go.”

  Seton chuckled. “I am a free man and must go where my heart lies.” He reached a hand to my chest and attempted to trace a heart symbol there.

  I backed away. “You can sleep here if you wish, but in the shop on the couch, I cannot risk—” Before I could say more, Seton grabbed me and pressed his lips hungrily to mine. I wanted to resist, but with each thought of doing so found myself deeper in his kiss.

  If I was uncertain in his embrace, my lips and mouth were secure in their need, for I kissed him and parted his lips with my tongue. His tongue responded and returned the wet lashings mine delivered.

  If this is wrong, I will die for it! This declaration came not from my mind, but from my heart. This is not wrong, it cannot be! My heart pumped this message through my veins and in its hot, noisy rush, I drowned. Fear disappeared into silence, and the warnings hushed. This kiss, this moonlight and the smell of this man close to me, these were all I knew.

  “You’re mad,” I murmured as our lips parted. I longed for him to touch me. There wasn’t enough time to think of everything I wanted.

  “I want you,” he whispered into my ear, “without clothes.” He reached and grabbed my swollen cock. Seton slid his tongue across my ear, his words followed wet and insistent. “Without fear.”

  This taboo invitation of sex mixed with overwhelming male need saturated any sensible reactions left within my being. In a second, I would relent.

  Seton’s hands grew more fervent, his fingers searched for the laces holding the leather together. “Virago, let me have you, let me satisfy your needs.”

  I felt the laces of my breeches loosen and groaned at the release. I had never felt a man’s hand on my cock before and shuddered as his hands sought my naked flesh. I would let him seduce me. I would know true relief of my passionate burdens. My hands searched for the door handle. “Let us go inside.” As my hands found the door handle, desperate words formed inside me.

  Oh night! Go on forever and let dawn stay behind the clouds!

  The door opened behind me. I could welcome him inside. Even as I moved aside, I heard the sound of the cathedral bells. Distant and haunting, the sound of the bells tolling the hour, the last hour of the night, before the witching hours, heralded the day of Duir’s procession. From castle to cathedral, he would ride. It was the last day before he would wear the crown.

  I am no witch and the spell of my words died, the desirous hex woven by our bodies broke.

  “You must go, Seton.” When he didn’t move, I wasn’t sure he heard me.

  “No,” he answered as the last bell tolled. “Let me stay, let us love each other.”

  I shook my head and gathered the pack containing the velvet to my chest. “I have to make a start or I will be doomed to not finish the vest. You must go, and you mustn’t talk of love between us to anyone. It is an act certain to bring you death.”

  “There is no rewriting of the heart’s music. I am falling in love with you and you with me. You want me, I know it.” He reached for me.

  The velvet I clutched to my chest blocked his touch. This barrier built by duty and fear existed long before his arrival.

  His hand pushed against the velvet. “If there was anything stronger than new love, I did not know it until now.”

  My mouth burned from his kiss, my body ached for more of his touch, but the velvet also burned.

  Seton’s outstretched hand hung in the air a moment, hopeful, reaching for me.

  “Please.” The words scratched at my throat and mouth like thorns.

  He must have heard the pain in my voice, for his hand dropped to his side. He searched my face a second and in the cold, silver light, I saw ache in his eyes. He bowed low before me and departed.

  * * * *

  The next morning, I woke to find that I’d again slept in the shop, slumped over my table. My arms, back and legs ached with time spent in an unnatural sleeping position.

  “You should not make it a habit of sleeping in the shop.”

  Sylvain’s voice startled me. My brother appeared withdrawn, and his voice melancholy. He stood by the window opposite the table, the one looking out on the side yard and the small pond often used by passersby to water their horses and travelers seeking a short break from their journeys.

  I yawned, then stretched my arms over my head. “It was not my intention, I swear.”

  My eyes searched for some clue as to the progress of my work, but found none. “I thought I’d brought Duir’s patterns and father’s scissors. The velvet…” My voice faded away. The velvet, had it been lost? Had someone broke in and stolen the precious material while I slept? I stood and felt the frantic rush of blood fill my limbs with pins and needles. Memories of Seton, the kiss, his hands touching, stroking my body and the words he spoke, and the words I didn’t. My lips tingled as if they hungered for his lips.

  Shaking the memories away and massaging my cramped limbs, I began looking for the velvet. “Forgive me, Sylvain, I am overwhelmed. I’d hoped to have made some progress of the vest, and it appears I have lost my mind, for I see nothing of my night’s work.”

  Sylvain came away from the window. His unseeing eyes burned with something I couldn’t determine. “The peacocks are dead.”

  Confused and fumbling for my apparently lost materials, I repeated: “Peacocks?” I vaguely remembered Therese mentioning the birds when she’d visited the other day. “The birds she’d gotten as gifts?”

  “Yes, they are dead, dropped from where they were perched as though struck by some invisible hand.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Is there some divine meaning you wish me to gain from your words? I can tell you that I am in no mind to guess.” I got up, went to another smaller table, and continued my frantic search.

  “I believe the birds carried illness within them.”

  “Illness?” I mimicked, only partially listening. Finding nothing on the table, I resignedly sat down on a chair opposite my brother and began replaying the night in my head. Seton’s face emerged and I smiled. Had it happened? I brought a hand to my lips. He’d kissed me, embraced me and wanted me. These sweet memories blurred everything else.

  When I looked up, I found Sylvain standing before me. His grim expression cut short my daydreaming.

  “Virago, please listen to me.”

  “I am listening.”

  He crouched down beside me. “Last night, Therese hosted a feast. Two of the peacocks were slaughtered and served to her guests. Those who partook of the birds’ flesh are ill. The two remaining birds lie dead in her courtyard.”

  My brother’s dismal tone began to frighten me. In an attempt to alleviate this growing sense of doom, I stood and resumed my search. “So what of it? Therese’s feasts are always feats of gluttony! Overindulgence and nothing more plagues her house!”

  Sylvain remained crouched by the chair. “Funny, here I wondered how to mention the word for fear of sounding mad, and you say it casually, without concern.”

  “What word do you mean?” Frustration plain in my voice.

  “Plague.” He got up and crossed the room to the cabinet he used to store his work, and knowingly removed things from it.

  “There hasn’t been talk of plague since before Killian wore the crown. You cannot mean such a thing.”

  “Virago, you know I do not speak in vain. I believe those birds must have been sickened with something when they arrived and now those
who ate their flesh are carrying the same disease.”

  “It’s coincidence, nothing more! To make such a suggestion could incite chaos. Promise me you will not discuss this beyond these walls.”

  “I tell you now, there is something uneasy in the air, and I pray this illness on Therese’s house is coincidence and nothing more.” He moved aside from the cabinet. “Come, Virago, see the work you’ve done and some I have done in your stead.”

  I rushed to his side and found Sylvain had not only traced the vest patterns, but also cut and matched the velvet perfectly against them. “I don’t understand.”

  “I found you early this morning. I’d been uneasy in my bed. Nightmares forced me to seek comfort in a drink, but instead discovered the brilliant glow of the lanterns and candles you’d lit before you slept.”

  “I cannot believe I’d not extinguished the candles. I must have been possessed by some wild notion, or the muse had her way with me.”

  “Well, it is of no matter. I extinguished the candles and gathered your work and the velvet from under your arms, and set about doing what I could to help. The work soothed me and eased the visions from my mind.”

  I held the pieces of velvet before me. It shone even in the dim, overcast morning light, and it comforted me. “You have done fine work, and even so with this new pattern. How did you know it?”

  “I can feel the edges of the pattern and have traced patterns for as long as I can remember. Father insisted I learn. How many hours did I spend learning how to use a tailor’s tools? Don’t you remember Father putting my hands on top of his while he cut patterns? I think I knew how to use scissors before a fork!”

  “Sylvain, you are a marvel. You have saved me countless hours, I am indebted and awed.” On an impulse, I grabbed my brother and hugged him tightly. “I am always apologizing to you, Brother, but I am nothing without you by my side.”

  Sylvain, always uncomfortable with blatant emotion, struggled in my embrace, then relented and hugged me. “If you are always apologizing, I will always forgive you. We are brothers and although I am blind, I can see the splendor of your talents and maybe in some way, I hope my aid will make you that much greater. Now let me go or I will bloody your nose. There is breakfast and you must go and finish the vest at court.”