The Vestal's Steward

by Ailx Nichols

  Haysi pulled at Iyatt’s sleeve, tearing him from his memories. “Look here! They’re moving!”

  Behind a glass screen unfolded an animated history of the Empire War.

  “This must be Emperor Mastredeles.” She looked at a man in lavish clothing, giving orders to military commanders.

  “Yes, it’s him.”

  She pointed out a young man in another part of the display who was a resistance leader. “Who do you think that is?”

  “Could be Lord Raween Cummills.”

  Iyatt pressed his commlet to the data transfer conduit on the wall and then held it up to Haysi’s ear. “You can listen to the commentary.”

  She gasped, delighted. “Don’t you want to listen, too?”

  Iyatt leaned toward the commlet, his temple almost touching the top of Haysi’s head.

  The story, narrated by a pleasant female voice, had reached the 590s—the last decade of the last century and the last years of the Empire War.

  The Allied Realms had reclaimed most of the planet-colonies from Emperor Mastredeles with the help of his own nephew. Lord Raween Cummills, the Emperor’s departed sister’s son, had joined the resistance the day Mastredeles attacked Toholt’s nearest planet, Oiru, in the year 538 of the New Ra-Human Era.

  “Lord Cummills is no longer the governor of Toholt, but he’s still alive, isn’t he?” Haysi asked him.

  “Yes. He’s officially retired, but I doubt a man like him would be content to spend decades touring Xereill.”

  Haysi frowned. “Decades? Isn’t he already… well, ancient?”

  “He’s a rich-blood with a gift for regeneration, which means he’ll live a very long life. That gift is extremely rare, except in the Mastredeles family.”

  Not that there were many members of the Mastredeles family left. Aside from Lord Cummills and two unassuming descendants of the Emperor’s distant cousin who led quiet—and closely watched—lives away from everything, the clan had been wiped out.

  After the Emperor’s army had been defeated, an angry mob burned his palace down. They lynched the Emperor, his wife and his two grown sons. The Emperor’s third son, Zendelleu, was spared as he was only fourteen. At least that was what the mob later claimed.

  But the odds were Zendelleu had been killed with the rest of the family.

  The narrator in the commlet went on to talk about how after the war Lord Cummills helped set up the League of Realms. He refused to become its first superintendent because his priority was to rebuild his home planet, Toholt, of which he became governor…

  By the end of that passage Iyatt had tuned out. With his eyes closed, he was breathing in Haysi’s head-turning scent and doing his best not to delve his hand into her hair. He attempted not to stare at her. Not to let his eyes linger on her body or her face. Not to recall last night. Not to anticipate the second night they would spend on Norbal before flying back to Hente.

  There is nothing to anticipate, he reminded himself.

  Because nothing would happen. The moment he and Haysi retired after dinner tonight, he’d go straight to the bathroom, lock the door and sleep in the bathtub like last night.

  An hour later, Haysi and Iyatt left the museum and headed to the last attraction he wanted to show her before returning to Medyx and Tamma’s. The full name of the place was The Court Where All Your Wishes Come True. Locals called it Wishcourt.

  “You get three wishes,” a cheerful attendant explained to Haysi after Iyatt paid the fare. “Unless it’s something outlandish, we’ll be able to make them come true.”

  Haysi’s mouth fell open.

  “For twenty minutes each, or an hour in total,” the attendant added.

  He led them into a cubicle packed with simulated reality equipment.

  Iyatt turned to Haysi. “Go ahead. What would you like to experience?”

  “So many things!” she said. “I don’t know where to start.”

  The attendant raised his hand. “I suggest you start by picking something you aren’t likely to experience in real life.”

  “So many things,” Haysi said again, this time with a bittersweet smile on her face.

  “What about a job?” the attendant asked. “Something you wanted to become when you were a child?”

  “A judge,” she said. “I wanted to become a judge.”

  Iyatt’s eyebrows shot up.

  She shrugged. “I had an indulgent mother. She hadn’t told me it was an impossible dream until I was about ten.”

  The attendant tapped something on a screen to his left, and a few seconds later, an automaton rolled into their cubicle, carrying a judge’s black robes.

  “I recommend you put that on for a more immersive experience,” the attendant said before adding, “You can purchase the robes as a souvenir before you leave Wishcourt. Would you like that?”

  Haysi slipped on the gold-rimmed cape, heavy necklace and white sash. “No, thanks.”

  The attendant helped her into the sim-reality helmet and tapped on his screen.

  “All set.” He said to her. “You’ll be judging a simple case in court and delivering a verdict. Ready?”

  She gave him an uncertain nod.

  The attendant turned to Iyatt. “Come closer, sir. Can you prop your friend? Since this is her first time, she might get a bit of a shock when sim-reality kicks in.”

  Planting himself behind Haysi, Iyatt wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing a surprised look from the attendant.

  Isn’t this what he meant?

  Of course not, and Iyatt knew that.

  He loosened his embrace. But when Haysi leaned back against his chest, he tightened it again.

  “Lovely, lovely,” the attendant said. “Let the first wish be granted!”

  For the next twenty minutes, Iyatt held Haysi as she was plunged into simulated reality. Shifting slightly in his arms from time to time, she listened, spoke, turned to her left and right addressing her sim-colleagues, leaned forward to talk to the sim-barristers and shuffled the sim-papers in front of her.

  By the end of her twenty-minute slot, she picked up a virtual object, probably a gavel, and banged it on an invisible table. “I pronounce the accused not guilty!”

  She was grinning when she took off the helmet.

  For her second wish, Haysi didn’t hesitate. She wanted to fly.

  “I’ll never be a cyborg and never have wings,” she said to the attendant. “But I’d like to experience the sensation of flying.”

  “That’s our organic visitors’ most popular wish,” the attendant commented with a bright smile, tapping on his screen.

  Wide padded straps forming a hammock-like sling dropped from the cubicle’s ceiling. With Iyatt’s help, the attendant lifted and secured Haysi into it. She hovered, her body horizontal, about four feet above the floor. With her arms spread wide, she “flew” over Norbal’s mountains, forests, rivers and cities, venturing far beyond the terraformed area.

  “You can go anywhere you like,” the attendant encouraged her. “Ride the wind, go up and down, speed up or stop. There are no limits.”

  More than once, Haysi squealed with delight.

  At one point Iyatt realized he was grinning like an idiot. Haysi’s happiness must’ve rubbed off on him.

  For her third and final wish, she said she wanted to be a beautifully dressed noblewoman attending a grand ball.

  “On which planet?” the attendant asked.

  “My home world, Hente.”

  “In Eia or Teteum, my dame?”

  “In Eia.” She turned to Iyatt. “You look surprised.”

  He smiled. “I suppose I didn’t expect you’d have something like that on your wish list.”

  “I don’t,” Haysi said. “Not anymore. But when I was a little girl, my Ma told me bedtime stories in which I was a noblewoman and danced at a ball with a prince. It was her dream.”

  Talk about impossible wishes for a harlot!

  “Toward the end of the dance, the prince always proposed,�
� Haysi continued, “and I married him, and when he ascended the throne, I became Eia’s queen.”

  The attendant gave them a slightly impatient smile. “Lovely, lovely.”

  “I’m not sure Ma was aware the last Eckme king had abdicated,” Haysi said, “and that Eia had been a republic for decades. She wasn’t an educated person.”

  “And now you have a unique opportunity to fulfill your mother’s wish,” the attendant said brightly. “I recommend wearing an Eian noblewoman’s attire to make the experience more immersive.”

  His fingers danced on his screen, and an automaton fetched a shimmery dress and a pair of sexy high heels. Haysi took them from the machine. Then its front panel transformed into a mirror.

  “We’ll give you some privacy, my dame.” The attendant turned his back to Haysi and motioned to Iyatt to do the same.

  “I’m almost ready,” she said a couple of minutes later. “Just need help with the closure on the back.”

  “At your service, my dame!” the attendant said, circling her. “Those fastenings are tricky for unpracticed hands.”

  Iyatt turned around and gasped at how breathtaking she looked in the long, elegant gown with clean lines and a silvery color that made her look like a… princess.

  Haysi’s gaze shifted from the mirror to Iyatt. He saw wonder and disbelief in it as though she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “Can I purchase this attire?” Iyatt asked the attendant who had returned to his screen.

  The man inclined his head. “Absolutely, sir!”

  When Haysi and Iyatt left Wishcourt a half hour later, the sun had already set. She had kept her new dress and shoes on, sliding her old clothes into the gift bag she’d been given.

  He hailed a motor cab.

  “Thank you for this day, Iyatt!” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze when he climbed inside. “I will never forget it.”

  They were at Medyx and Tamma’s within ten minutes and spent the rest of the evening in his friends’ company, enjoying good food and conversation.

  After they’d helped the hosts clean up the table, Iyatt lingered in the kitchen and talked to Medyx while Haysi got ready for bed. When he entered the guest room, he expected her to be lying in bed.

  Instead, she was sitting on it. Her hair was down and her feet bare, but she still wore her new dress.

  Shooting him an apologetic look, she turned sideways and reached behind her back, pointing at the closure. “Help, please?”

  Thirteen

  He sat down next to her on the bed.

  Haysi angled her body a little more and tipped her head down. He stared at her graceful back… Shifted closer… Leaned forward… Inhaled her scent…

  The closure, Iyatt. Open it and leave.

  Gently, he gathered her hair and moved it to one side, over her shoulder, admittedly to prevent it from getting tangled up in the fastenings.

  He stared some more.

  She had the most exquisite neck. As if enthralled, he put his fingertips to it and traced the hairline at the nape, before moving down along the spinal column. Her skin was silky smooth.

  Suddenly, the fingertips weren’t enough. He needed to touch more of her with more of him. Shifting closer, he cradled the sides of her neck with his palms, his thumbs rubbing, his fingers stroking her jawline.

  For a few long moments, that was all he did.

  Haysi sat very still, offering up her graceful neck. His heart quickening, Iyatt caressed its sides, up and down, from her temples to the base where her neck curved into shoulders. Strands of her hair draped one of his hands, adding to his pleasure.

  By the time he finally undid the first clasp, after a good deal of fumbling to draw out the moment, he’d stopped fooling himself about what he was doing. What they were doing. And where it was headed.

  May the Goddess forgive me!

  One by one, he undid the fastenings then slipped his fingers inside the lapels and pushed them to the sides.

  Haysi looked at him over her shoulder. Her gaze caressed his upper body and his face. It lingered on his eyes. It was sultry, ravenous. By Aheya, her need matched his own!

  Emboldened, Iyatt unclasped her brassiere. All hesitation gone, he pushed the long sleeves of her dress, together with the straps of her undergarment, down. Her back was completely bare now.

  Contrary to what he expected, Haysi didn’t pull her arms out of the dress, didn’t free her hands. Instead, she threw him a fiery, naughty look and turned her head to face forward again.

  Her shoulders and upper arms were deliciously bared to him, inviting. Tangled in her sleeves, her hands seemed bound. Her breasts were still hidden from his gaze. He pictured them in his mind’s eye. Inhaling the scent of her hair and skin, he moved closer behind her until his chest touched her back.

  Sweet. Aheya. In heaven.

  Bending down, Iyatt buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, his hands gripping her upper arms.

  He gave a muted groan against her skin. “Haysi…”

  I’m dying to touch every part of you, to make love to you, to bury myself deep inside you.

  He didn’t say those words aloud. They were too raw, too crude to be spoken to a woman, even to a Lanterns woman. But the advantage of holding a Lanterns woman in his arms was that she wouldn’t mistake his intentions. She knew exactly what he wanted. And it looked like she wanted the same thing.

  His member strained in his trousers, throbbing.

  Was she as aroused as he was?

  Judging by the look she’d given him earlier, she might be.

  Was she aroused enough to be… wet? Did she long for their joining as much as he did?

  His heart thundered with the force of his desire.

  When he pressed his lips to her shoulder, she arched into him. Hungry for the taste of her skin, he began to kiss and tongue her neck. Each hot kiss, each lick sent a tremor into him, making him want her more, ache for her more.

  As if hearing his silent plea, she turned around.

  Their gazes met. Licking her lips, she hooked her thumbs into the neckline of her dress and pushed it down, freeing her breasts, her arms, her hands.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, eyeing her.

  She reached over and touched his lips.

  When he kissed her, it was hot and messy and rushed, as if they’d both exhausted all the restraint they were capable of.

  They tore at each other’s clothing as they kissed. Within minutes, they were both naked, ogling each other without shame.

  She stroked his chest. “You aren’t wearing your ouroboros.”

  “I don’t have it anymore.”

  “When did you lose it?”

  “It was stolen from me in the quarries.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” She pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone. “But it was many years ago, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you get a new one since then?”

  “It wouldn’t be my original Nine Blessings ouroboros, would it?” He glanced at Haysi’s ouroboros before his gaze shifted to her breasts. “Buying a new one would feel like cheating, and I’d feel like a fraud.”

  She chuckled. “That’s just so Iyatt Martenn! Still, wouldn’t a new one be better than no ouroboros at all, especially for such a devout man?”

  “It would.”

  “But?”

  He covered her hand on his chest with his. “Maybe I just haven’t gotten around to buying one.”

  “I very much doubt that’s the real reason.”

  “Or maybe I don’t deserve it,” he muttered, looking at her kiss-swollen lips.

  She shook her head as if dissatisfied with his answer but didn’t press the matter further. Instead, her gaze zoomed in on his rigid member. Reaching down, she wrapped her warm hand around it.

  His head fell back, and a muffled groan escaped his lips.

  She stroked his length. “Is this how you like it?”

  “By heavens, yes. Don’t stop!”

  Leaning in, she whispered against his t
hroat. “Is this more satisfying than your own hand?”

  He startled before it hit him. She was referring to his confession last night. The fox!

  “Much more,” he grunted. “The last time I had a woman palm me was thirteen years ago, before I met Unie.”

  She squeezed him a little tighter, drawing out a louder groan. “Who was she?”

  Haysi let go of him and drew back. He felt so bereft he nearly begged her to take him in her hand again.

  “A harlot?” she asked.

  “No! I’d never—” He shut his mouth, realizing he was about to say something that could offend her. “It was a young divorcee from Orogate with whom I had a relationship in my early twenties. It didn’t last long.”

  “Why?”

  “I wasn’t ready for matrimony at the time,” he said, “and I felt too guilty about having sex out of wedlock.”

  Her gaze traveled to his lap. “I see.”

  His jutting manhood twitched, eager for the feel of her hand.

  “Please,” he rasped.

  “How about… this?” She kneeled before him and bent down.

  Heavens, is she going to…?

  Indeed, she was. Haysi took the crown between her lips and circled it with her tongue.

  He shuddered at the erotic charge, at the transgressive, mind-blowing intimacy of her obscene caress. He’d heard about it, but had never imagined its sweetness, had never known what it would do to him.

  Another swirl of her tongue, and I might come.

  But she let go of him and sat back on her haunches. “Did you like that, Samurai?”

  His lids heavy, he stared at her mouth. For the life of him, he couldn’t form a single word in response as he fought the urge to grab her nape and pull her mouth back to where it had been a moment ago.

  All he managed was to growl low in this throat.

  Her eyes gleamed with mirth. “I’ll take it as a yes.”

  Fourteen

  Stifling a happy giggle, Haysi moved closer. She took his tip between her wet lips and put both hands to the base, working him hard.