by Imogen Sera
She gasped and he savored the tight heat of her. He pumped his fingers into her, slowly at first and then faster. His thumb insistently caressed her clit, his breathing ragged against her ear, and he found he was thrusting against her round ass. She came quickly, clenching around his fingers, crying out and shaking all over. He continued pumping, rubbing, thrusting until her quick breathing slowed and her shuddering breaths became even again.
She turned around in his arms to face him, the soft skin of her belly pressed against his cock. “Your turn?” she asked, smiling impishly.
It was tempting. “You need sleep,” he said firmly. She rolled her eyes but settled against him comfortably, and before long she was peacefully asleep.
CHAPTER NINE
Ingrid woke while Helias was still asleep, sprawled gorgeously across a bed that was finally big enough for him. She watched him for awhile as golden sunlight streamed over him, illuminating him to look like some sort of mythical being. She giggled to herself at the thought. She was glad to be feeling better, but she couldn’t shake her disappointment at herself for falling so ill. Logically she knew she had no control over it, but she’d wanted to meet everyone and get her bearings.
She started at a loud knock on the door, and then again as Helias bolted upright.
“You’re alright?” he asked her looking confused.
She nodded slightly, her brow furrowed. The sitting room was private, there shouldn’t have been anyone there uninvited. “Just someone at the door.”
Helias rose quickly and pulled on his pants as Ingrid primly pulled her nightgown down to cover her ankles. He crossed the room, shirtless, and pulled the door open to reveal Ingrid’s four ladies.
He glowered down at them. “Yes?” he asked shortly, and Ingrid almost felt sorry for them.
The voluptuous redhead at the front of the group curtsied. “We’re here to help Her Majesty dress,” she said, and boldly strode past Helias into the room.
He looked at Ingrid and she returned his gaze, wide eyed. The other ladies were still hovering in the doorway, looking intensely uncomfortable, as the redhead was acquainting herself with the items laid out on the vanity.
“Come in, I suppose,” Ingrid called to the women to end their discomfort.
They did, and flocked to their seeming leader. With raised eyebrows and a faintly amused expression Helias moved back to where Ingrid was perched on the edge of the bed, grabbing his shirt on the way and pulling it over his head.
He stopped next to her, across the room from her ladies, and lowered his head to hers.
“I don’t like them,” he murmured quietly. “If you were better, I was going to fuck you.”
Her cheeks colored as she pushed his shoulder affectionately then got to her feet. “I should get prepared to be seen in public. I don’t know how you’ve been able to stomach the sight of me without this necessary ritual.”
“Disgusting,” he agreed quietly, brushing his fingers over her cheek and then leaning to kiss her thoroughly. She was keenly aware of the audience but it didn’t seem to bother him, and when he broke away a minute later her heart was racing and her face was flushed. “I’m going to find my brothers, I’ll see you at breakfast, love.”
Ingrid nodded breathlessly after him as he left the room. Her gaze moved to her ladies; three wide sets of eyes were on the door, but the fourth was fixed on her, critically.
Ingrid took a deep breath and stood up straighter. “Alright,” she smiled. “Where do we begin?”
An hour later Ingrid was surprised at how much better she felt. She’d bathed and had cream rubbed into her dry skin, and her hair had been washed, brushed and arranged neatly to fall down her back in soft waves. The tallest of her ladies had brought a servant with a huge armful of gowns for Ingrid to pick from, and as she looked through them she tried to ignore the knowledge that the gowns’ owners were long dead. Elsie, she’d learned, was the tall girl’s name. She had golden hair that was intricately plaited around her head, and Ingrid wasn’t sure she’d heard her speak at all. The woman smiled frequently, though, which made Ingrid feel more at ease.
The redhead, Vivian, swept over to Ingrid and eyed the gown that she was holding critically.
“Not brown,” she said thoughtfully. “You need something brighter.”
She picked through the gowns until she found a jade green one and exclaimed excitedly. “What do you think of this?”
“Sure,” Ingrid said, trying not to sigh with impatience.
Vivian chattered on about finding a dressmaker and having him come to live at the palace so they could have dresses on demand constantly. Ingrid tuned her out after a minute as she dressed, looking forward to seeing the rest of the palace. She wanted to meet everyone, especially those Helias had known, and she was eager to get started.
After her dress was arranged perfectly she was finally-finally!- declared ready. She smiled at her reflection, pleased, and then Ingrid and her ladies went to breakfast.
.....
The breakfast room was strange. A glossy wood table dominated the room, long, massive, and egg shaped; seeming to sprout up from the floor itself. The top was polished to a shine, but the edges were rough with raw wood. Thick, rope-like branches covered the walls like vines. Massive windows framed in gold dominated one wall, and the sky outside had clouded over. Thousands of tiny twinkling lights hung overhead, offering a warm glow. Ingrid felt as if she were in a forest. She loved it.
Helias was seated at the narrow end of the table; Tarquin and a handsome light haired man were seated to his left, with Caelian to his right. On the opposite end of the table were nearly a dozen men, all tall, all handsome. Apparently it didn’t just run in the family, it ran in the species. As she entered the room everyone stood as one, watching her. Her eyes widened and her face reddened.
“That’ll take some getting used to,” she muttered to herself, and she thought she heard a tiny giggle from Elsie beside her.
She crossed the room to Helias as her ladies found seats on the other side of the table. Caelian turned his chair to her, gesturing for her to sit there, so she did. He took the seat next to her, placing her between him and Helias.
“You look pretty,” Caelian said to her, sounding surprised.
“Thanks,” she said flatly, and turned her attention to Helias. “I feel silly. It’s nice to be clean, though,” she added thoughtfully.
“You do look pretty,” Helias said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. “How are you feeling?”
“Very tired,” she admitted. “But I can think straight, so that’s a nice improvement.”
“Good,” he replied, pressing her hand against his stubbly cheek briefly before releasing it. “Ingrid, this is Cassius,” he said, gesturing to the handsome man seated next to Tarquin. “He’s Reis’s son. We grew up together here.”
Ingrid smiled and murmured a greeting, as he inclined his head toward her.
Cassius and the brothers talked pleasantly, catching up on things they’d missed, and Ingrid tried to pay attention but was constantly distracted by her breakfast. She finally felt well enough to eat, and having something in her stomach seemed to help her exhaustion. She sat back in her seat comfortably, savoring the feeling as Helias draped his arm over her shoulders, and turned her attention down the table to her ladies.
Aside from Vivian and Elsie there were two more, Grace and Olive. Grace was pretty in a familiar sort of way, nothing was particularly striking about her but nothing was unpleasant, either. Her hair, some color between blonde and brown hung straight down her back, and she wore a delicate chain at the crown of her head. Olive was tiny, barely five feet tall, with short light hair and big black eyes. Her style of dress wasn’t anything Ingrid had seen before, with her breasts pushed high and her shoulders revealed but arms covered by sleeves. It suited her, Ingrid thought, although it was much more revealing than the other ladies’ conservative choices. The men at their end of the table seemed to appreciate it; she was earnin
g several hungry stares.
Something was bothering Ingrid about the human women, but she wasn’t sure what. It had surprised her, certainly, when they’d stormed her bedroom that morning, but they each seemed pleasant enough. Vivian was a bit bossy, but she’d been efficient and effective at helping Ingrid get ready. She couldn’t put her finger on the uneasiness they caused her. She pushed the thought aside, not trusting her feelings after being so ill.
Helias stroked her cheek gently to get her attention, and she blinked twice and turned to him.
“Shall I give you a tour?” he asked, smiling widely at her.
She nodded, eager to see more.
He helped her up from her chair, and as Vivian rose Ingrid caught her eye and shook her head. Vivian hesitated but sat again.
The palace was massive. After the first few rooms Ingrid stopped trying to keep track of where she was, reminding herself to ask if she could have access to a floor plan later. The rooms were all quite different, aside from each having huge gold framed windows. Julian and Tarquin had broken off from the group quickly, but Caelian remained with them, seeming to enjoy telling Ingrid stories from their youth. She smiled along with him, enjoying Helias’s quiet presence and arm around her waist. They were moving quite slowly from room to room, with lots of time for Ingrid to sit and rest; she was grateful for the thoughtfulness.
They paused in the throne room, a large room, opulently appointed, and Ingrid gazed thoughtfully at the throne that Caelian had pointed out as hers.
“That makes me nervous,” she murmured to Helias, not taking her gaze from the oversize chairs.
“I know,” he said, tightening his grip around her and leaning to kiss her forehead. “Me too.”
They continued into a smaller chamber off of the throne room, with a large square table in the middle. Reis was there, bent over a large map. As they entered he bowed.
“You know that’s unnecessary when we’re alone, old man,” Helias said playfully, and Reis rose with a warm smile.
Ingrid seated herself on a bench along the wall as Reis explained to Helias and Caelian what he was working on. She wasn’t listening, but was watching the obvious affection between the older man and the brothers. They laughed frequently, and he seemed sincere and genuinely warm. She resolved to make an effort to like the man, but then he turned to her and glanced over her, and she wanted to crawl out of her skin.
“You’re feeling better, I hope,” he said.
She nodded slightly, trying to ignore the goosebumps covering her flesh. “Yes, much.”
Helias came to her and helped her up, then linked her arm with his. “Should we continue the tour?” he asked, and she smiled and nodded up at him.
“I’ll stay here, I think,” said Caelian, glancing at Reis who nodded approvingly at him.
Ingrid and Helias strode back out into the throne room, arm in arm.
CHAPTER TEN
Ingrid was quiet as they continued through the palace. Helias had asked her several times if she wished to rest, but she maintained that she wanted to see everything. After he startled her when pointing out a particular painting, she leaned her head against his arm.
“What are you thinking about, love? You seem so distracted.”
She looked thoughtful. “Do you know much about the illness? About oversaturation?”
“I do,” he said, smiling widely. “I learned about it when I was researching the plague, before I came to Dragongrove.”
She paused a moment, biting her lip. “Does it affect every human?”
“Yes, it seems to.” He glanced down at her. “I hope you’re not feeling guilty for being ill.”
She shook her head but remained quiet. They continued along, from room to room, and he pointed out the servants’ quarters as they passed. She broke the silence suddenly.
“You’re very close with Reis.”
“Yes,” he said, studying her odd expression. “I suppose my brothers are closer to him than I am. I received the most of my father’s attention, but he was like a father to them.”
She nodded, not speaking, and glanced around the enormous study they’d entered.
He stopped and turned to her, cupping her face in his hands. “Please tell me what you’re thinking, Ing. You can tell me anything.”
Her eyes widened and he could see that she wanted to protest that it was nothing, but then she spoke. “He makes me uncomfortable.”
That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “Do you know why?” he asked carefully.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. He fetched ladies for me without anyone asking him to. Is that really his area of expertise?”
“We can send them home, love, if that’s what you want.”
Ingrid shook her head. “It’s not the ladies themselves, it’s that he took it upon himself to do it. It feels like he has his fingers in everything here.”
Helias pulled her close to him. He had never considered Reis’s position before, but he did now, and he saw the truth in Ingrid’s observation. He had grown up with the older man involved in nearly every aspect of palace life, and it had never seemed strange to him. He supposed he could understand, though, why Ingrid found it unusual for a general to be fetching ladies-in-waiting.
“And,” she added suddenly, “none of them are sick, Helias. How is that possible? He said he found them while I was ill, so why aren’t any of them suffering from what I did?”
“You’re right,” he said, his stomach dropping. “You’re absolutely right.”
“He’s lying. Why is he lying?” she asked, looking up at him.
He shook his head, and then his eyes widened as he remembered something. “Ingrid, he knew your name. He swore he didn’t receive any letters or notice of our coming, but he knew your name when he met you.”
He put his hand in hers and could feel her sweaty palms and slight shudder.
“He knew we were coming.”
.....
They continued their slow walk through the rooms, not paying attention to the palace, but taking advantage of their privacy to discuss Reis. Helias wanted to confront him and demand he explain himself, but Ingrid urged him to be more patient. They didn’t know who in the palace might be loyal to Reis, and their only certain allies were Helias’s brothers.
Helias became more quiet as they walked and Ingrid could tell that he was hurt. Her heart hurt for him, and she found herself becoming angry at Reis.
“I guess the real question is,” Ingrid began as they walked into the fourth floor parlor, “why? Is he lying for himself? Is he working with someone? How long has this been going on?”
“That’s a large part of what’s bothering me,” Helias admitted. “I’m wondering if anything he said about my father was the truth.”
Ingrid turned to face him. “Do you think he had anything to do with the assassination?”
“I don’t know. My father wasn’t a good-” he paused for a moment. “I don’t mourn him. But especially after my mother’s death, Reis was his only friend. It bothers me to think of his last days.”
Ingrid put her hand on his shoulder. “We’ll learn what happened. I promise.”
Soon after, Ingrid protested her exhaustion and they returned to the sitting room outside their bedchamber. She laid across a big couch, her head resting comfortably in Helias’s lap.
“Should I question my ladies?” she asked, her eyes shut as he stroked her hair. “To see how long they’ve been here?”
“I think it would be safer to say nothing to anyone, for now,” he said. “Especially them. One or all of them could be passing information to him.”
“Nothing to anyone? Does that include your brothers?”
He paused for a second. “I’ll tell Tarquin. He has a healthy dose of cynicism. I don’t think Caelian will take it well.”
Ingrid nodded her agreement. “Will you still go north?”
“Yes. I think it’s more important now than ever. Reis tried to talk me out of it initially. The onl
y information we have about what’s going on has been filtered through him, and I want to see for myself.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Ingrid said, luxuriating in his fingertips rubbing along her scalp. “But I agree. I think it’s best.”
“Reis will come with me.”
Ingrid’s eyes flew open. “No.”
Helias sighed. “I know, Ingrid. I don’t feel great about him coming along, but I feel even worse about leaving him here with you. We’ll have a full contingent of guards.”