by A. S. Etaski
*Turn around.*
He did, making it full circle, letting my eyes linger on his back and buttocks for several long ticks before continuing around again, likely to be certain he could see my hands. Confirmed, he had no marks, and I had a stupid grin on my face.
*I shall report the Nobles here aren’t abusing the Gift of the Valsharess,* I said, a thinly-veiled official note. *Unless there is anything you want to add?*
This was when Auslan reminded me again that he was twice my age. He shrugged with graceful indifference and walked nude over to a simple wash stand, pouring cool water into a basin. I checked that my mouth wasn’t hanging open.
“As it ever is, Red Sister,” he said aloud. He used a pleasant, liquid soap in the water and a soft, blue cloth to wipe himself down after the sex. “Report what you see, I have nothing to add.”
Nodding, I moved on. “When did the First Daughter come back? And from where?”
“Two cycles ago,” he answered, “and from the Palace and surrounding areas. She made attempts to get her foot in the door of higher Houses closer to the Palace.”
“Overall success versus anything specific?”
“Mostly unsuccessful, no particular deals she brayed about,” the Consort said. “She returned because of fallout with the Seventh House at Court, she didn’t want to be anywhere near. Her Matron and Aunt said she would return as soon as the ‘heat cooled.’”
“Oh?” I asked. “What happened with House Lospure?”
“What I heard, they stole Matron Shenpra’s nephew for their own.”
Huh. “Did she say why?”
Auslan paused and quirked a brow at me like I was being coy. “No, she did not. But there are few reasons the Valsharess would care to send the Elder General of the Sisterhood to retrieve one bua over whom two Houses begin fighting.”
He waited. Apparently, it was my turn. I smirked.
“You have a theory, Priestess son? How interesting. Do tell.”
The Royal Consort seemed confused at my response at first, then said, “The Noble must be a healer by touch. That is the one mage’s gift in a male which does not go to the Wizard’s Tower, but the Sanctuary. His Matron could only hide him so long, and Lospure has made a notable mistake.”
I nodded agreement. “So Itlaunadara came home during the chaos at Court. Washing her hands of it, grabbing distance.”
“Yes, Sister. I think something scared her. She may have heard whispers of the Shenpradalik and been tempted just before the discovery broke, but that is speculation.”
“Noted. Any action she confessed to you?”
“No, Red Sister. Itlaunadara was unnerved by Elder Rausery’s unexpected appearance at Court. She described it in great detail at her family dining this eve.” He paused. “She requested me to ‘soothe’ her after, and the Matron granted it.”
I was grinning despite everything. “’Unexpected appearance.’ The General doesn’t come to the Palace often?”
“You should know that, Red Sister.”
“I do, but so what? You’re older. You’ve probably seen her more than I have.”
Auslan’s eyes squinted briefly but he shook his head. “No. I have never seen the General in person. Reputation, only.”
Hmm. “What about the Elder Sorceress?”
The Consort nodded in clear recognition. “Yes, Red Sister. I have seen the Sorceress a few times when I’m not assigned out to a House.”
“Has she ever spoken to you?”
“Not directly, no.”
I watched his lovely face a few moments, deciding where to go next. “Tell me what the First Daughter described about the General. What caused her to panic.”
Auslan nodded. “A short tale. The General didn’t bother calling Nobles together or making a show. She walked in during a party with two Red Sisters, said nothing until she approached and grabbed Baedit Lospursareci by her neck and slammed her down against one of the decorative tables. The First Daughter said whatever Elder Rausery whispered in her ear caused the Noble to wet down her leg.”
I was grinning again, wishing I could have seen that. I’d never liked Baedit.
“Shortly, the Red Sisters left again with the Third Daughter bound and soon the Matron herself was being called to Court over the abduction of a Noble son. That was when several lower Houses left, including Itlaun, though all Eighth House and above were commanded to stay.”
A pause.
“Is that all?”
“All spoken at the table, Red Sister. I was not to speak as I helped her relax afterward.”
“A pity. And boring.”
“Oh?” He smiled a little. “You commanded the same, if I recall.”
I blinked. “A bit of spice on that mild prick, eh? I didn’t want to gag you, but excess noise was unwise then.”
His eyes brightened with humor. He bowed. “Of course, Red Sister.”
Saucy slut.
My wits required gathering. “Curgia.” The reason my Elder had sent me. “Tell me about her belly.”
“She has not aborted, though now the House knows, and she still refuses to name the sire,” Auslan said. “The Matron is not pressuring her in public. I must imagine she has been told and they are…hmm.”
“Planning?” I suggested.
“Yes.”
“Have there been any messages or contact from the Palace, Sanctuary, or Sisterhood that you know of?”
The Consort shook his head. “No, Red Sister.”
Neither good nor bad, I supposed. Still in a waiting period, if this was the reality, and I hadn’t missed anything during Jael’s initiation.
“Has she bedded you?” I asked. Pure curiosity.
“At the start of my residence, yes,” Auslan said, sounding a bit wary. “She was…on the edge of violent, but without true injury. But I knew why, she doesn’t want the baby she carries.” He paused. “She has not visited my rooms in the last half-turn when I would have seen the bump.”
“Tulia?” I asked.
A nod. “Regularly. The Matron, too. And the Aunt. But never all at once, they prefer privacy.”
Not unlike my former House.
I waited, watching as he dried himself and chose a different silk tunic to wear. “Anything else unusual occur since last you saw me?”
“It had been quiet until the First Daughter returned from Court, Red Sister.”
I thought over anything else my Elder might want to know. At least I could think a little clearer without him standing naked.
“What about your Priestess, Wilsira, and you? Have there been any messages exchanged? Observations you’ve provided her?”
The Consort nodded, seeming resigned. “Required once per span, if nothing is noteworthy.”
“And if it is?”
“Two.”
“Pfft,” I scoffed. “Not every cycle?”
“That is…too immediate, she has said. If it is urgent, she sends another to watch and report. I am not her favored spy, she doesn’t trust me.”
“You specifically,” I asked, “or all Royal Consorts?”
Auslan hesitated, glancing toward his vanity, of all things. “I believe it is me. Although I do not truly know how she treats the other Royal Consorts stationed at their Houses. We are dissuaded from comparing notes the few times we are gathered at the Sanctuary.”
Which was only once every five to ten turns, I knew. Not much opportunity to build strong bonds after a Consort reached breeding age.
“Hm,” I grunted, and Auslan watched my face for a few moments.
He dared to say, “Your questions seem less focused on the Noble sisters now, Red Sister.”
I could show my annoyance, discomfiture, or anger. Instead, I shrugged casually and winked. “I’m just learning more about how you live. Always consider the source of any information gathered.”
“Thus, says the Sisterhood?”
His smile paid for his forgiveness; I saw
admiration and respect in the testing.
“For millennia,” I agreed then paused. “Do you know if Wilsira has already sent another spy here following the First Daughter’s sudden return?”
Auslan shook his head. “I am sorry, I do not.”
“How likely is she to do so when you make your next report?”
“I already made it,” he told me. “When the First Daughter arrived.”
“How?”
He grimaced and spoke frankly. “I will die if she learns I leaked this.”
“Nix it, then,” I granted. D’Shea might already know and I only showed my own ignorance. “Answer the other. How likely is she to send a spy, now?”
“Likely,” he said, “as she has designs on the pregnant Daughters, and the First Daughter is not yet pregnant.”
“Is that likely to change, and involve you?”
“If Itlaunadara stays, then yes, and yes, Red Sister.”
“So, you’d be watched more carefully and not necessarily know who else was reporting to the Sanctuary.”
“Correct, Red Sister. Though all Davrin talk if a new Guardsvrin or servant unconnected to another shows up from somewhere else. The Matron would know, for certain. I would not, as I am an outsider.”
“Always good to recognize your limitations,” I said.
“Indeed.” Now he smiled. “It prevents me from overpromising and upsetting a powerful female.”
I chuckled. “I’d be looking for a new Davrin, either related to or vouched for by one already established, or a long-term Davrin on ’retainer’ who changes his or her behavior.”
The Consort nodded his agreement with a face so calm I couldn’t help but smile. “Or a Davrin who has already arrived from Court with the First Daughter.”
“Or that.”
Then something returned to me. I frowned at the thought which struck.
“You said Wilsira has designs on the pregnant Daughters. Tulia, certainly, but where did you think the Priestess has designs on Curgia and her unwanted one?”
I sensed his face warm. Had I caught him off guard?
He lowered his eyes. “The…unborn is touched by the Abyss, Red Sister. I wager you already knew that.”
“You can tell?” I asked, confirming without saying.
“Now, yes. Not earlier. But she conceived at the same time as Tulia, at the Palace, and I have heard that Curgia beseeched Wilsira herself for a Consort before the Worship Ball. I can guess who the sire is.”
I was fascinated by his deduction. “Tell me your guess, Auslan.”
He swallowed to hear my name aloud but obeyed. “Kerse, Wilsira’s Sathoet.”
My clever Consort. I grinned. “Mm. Good guess.”
He could read that he was correct; the lovely bua nodded modestly and didn’t ask how long the Sisterhood had known. Thus, he would understand more why I turned up here now and then, and it wasn’t only to torment him. I had long decided I would keep the details— that I’d fucked the same Sathoet and that he had seemed a little too interested in me at the Worship Ball—out of my conversations with the Royal Consort.
Conversation, hm? Yes, it feels like that.
A bad sign. A weakness should I grow lax, too comfortable with him.
“Does any cait or mata talk with you this long before they fuck you?” I asked, intentionally crass.
Auslan shook his head in the negative. “No, Red Sister.” He paused. “There was one once, but she is dead now.” He looked at my face, anticipated my next question. “My first Priestess in the Sanctuary. The one who trained me, before I was given to Wilsira.”
Such an intimate, voluntary confession. Hearing it sped my heart for a reason I didn’t grasp right then. “Her name?”
He paused, though grasped the pointlessness to keep that back. “Priestess Juliran.”
“When did she die? And why?”
He swallowed. “Five decades ago. For similar reason Red Sisters die, and Nobles are assassinated or meet with accidents.”
Oh, yes. I know about accidents.
“It’s possible no one of the Sanctuary remembers her anymore,” he said, “except me.”
I shifted in discomfort and cleared my throat, reining in my own eager curiosity. One other female had talked with him, had cared to know more of his thoughts, if he was being truthful. At first, I didn’t think it was possible, then reflected on my own upbringing.
It’s possible.
Why did I feel so strange now to know this?
Auslan sighed with care. “If you are finished with me, Red Sister, I am… very tired.”
Yes. I was dawdling, staring at him, enjoying his voice for the sake of it. Prodding. It was time to report to D’Shea, though I’d do one more sweep on the chance that some Davrin seemed new to the grounds. I had time; I only should not spend it all in this room.
As much as I want to.
“How about a kiss and I’ll be off?” I asked.
I saw the alarm on his face, caught in an unwary moment. I swallowed the impulse for insult though my voice still came off as a gripe. “Nothing more than that.”
“Red Sister, please,” he murmured. “Command me if you’ve changed your mind.”
If I had altered our agreement already, is what he meant.
“I cannot refuse you,” he continued, “but I remind you that my Priestess has ways of discovering if I am being promiscuous outside the Noble family in any regular way. It is part of the agreement between House and Sanctuary.”
Great. Now he was afraid of me, and I soured in jealous constriction.
He waited for me to speak. I sighed.
“No commands this time, Consort. Until next time.”
I returned to the Cloister with a few names and descriptions I wanted to transcribe from my shoddy field notes before reporting to my Elder, to make sure I had it straight. Gaelan’s room was the only one I knew to have writing tools, so I stopped there first. Luck was with me as I found her there. She released the ward, letting me in. She was brewing potions for the Sisterhood at her tiny workbench. Recent memories of my last foursome here rushed in, nearly flooding my nose although my Sister was bubbling something with less erotic scent in a vial under a small, open flame.
“Well met, Sister,” I said.
I knew my voice sounded light, and Gaelan smiled as she glanced over her shoulder.
“Hey, Sirana.”
“May I use your table and supplies to rewrite some notes?”
“As long as you don’t take my Feldeu again,” she looked back at the bench, “sure.”
I gathered a small square of parchment, the ink vial and quill, and sat at her one-cait study desk. It reminded me of where my tutors had me sit while I learned to write.
“Don’t tell me you’ve hidden your cock back in the same spot I took it?” I nudged with a smirk.
“Nope.” She shook her head, carefully measuring a powder. “It’s better secured now, must be, or D’Shea will whip my ass and have me brew standing up for a span.”
I snickered, admiring that ass a moment, sitting on its stool, then got to work. We didn’t speak again until we’d each made progress and found a breakpoint, then Gaelan spun on her seat, wiping down a metal stirrer.
“Hey, Sirana, I want to ask you something.”
I blew on my wet ink. “About?”
“About Reishel.”
I pursed my lips. “I don’t know why she woke up.”
Gaelan shrugged. “I believe you. But D’Shea might have called me to help heal her after she made it through the Prime’s courses. She didn’t, our Elder called you.”
“Says who?”
“Reishel.”
I frowned. “Who else knows about that?”
Gaelan shook her head. “Nobody. It was just me and her.”
“You want to hear about whipping asses if she knows you two gossiped within spans about that?”
My Sister smirked. �
��Reishel didn’t describe a thing. I didn’t ask. I could fill in the blanks when she talked about you being there when she woke up, twice. And you had been deliberately trained to wear the cock at the same time and instructed not to tell me. Or so you said at the time.”
“So, you just guessed?”
“Yep. And you confirmed.”
I scowled. “Stop looking so smug.”
Another shrug. “Why did D’Shea call you to be the conduit instead of me?”
“D’Shea said you were too used up after the Ornilleth battle,” I grumbled, feeling foolish.
“You’re not a mage, Sirana. What’s the Sorceress training you for?”
“I can’t tell you that,” I said, “or I would have by now. I didn’t ask why you were so fucked up from being a ’conduit.’”
“You mean unaware and unable to fight as you played with me?”
I dropped my forehead in my hand. “I apologized, I’ll never do it again. I’m still curious but figure you can’t say more than you have. Just like I can’t speak about some of the things I’m doing.”
Gaelan watched me for a few moments, and it was clear she had something else to say. Then, or perhaps instead, she asked, “Will you check on your Matron after she gives birth?”
I blurted a laugh, shook my head. “No. I have no reason to go back, and I wouldn’t ask. D’Shea would have to assign me, and I doubt she will. I don’t see how it benefits her.”
The young mage said dryly, “And it’s all about that, isn’t it?”
She sighed, turned back around on her stool. Worked on something, not a new potion. Taking notes. I glowered at her back, resting my head on my fist.
“What?” I growled.
Gaelan shrugged. “If you think everything the Elders ask of us pertains to something which happened in just the last few turns…”
“I don’t think that,” I said, insulted, “but I don’t know enough about my new present yet to nudge the past and avoid the poisonous pincers.”
“Fair,” she granted, slowly turning around again to face me. “Often we can only start with ourselves and trace the silk threads from there.”
“Qivni would think I do too much self-serving stuff already.”
“So does she.” Gaelan looked like she didn’t care. She also didn’t say anything more.