“I cannot wait for the day to dawn when I meet the lovely Talia. I have always been fascinated by Lokian spirituality and yearn to learn more about it at last.”
Abraham defused Isaac’s tension in his usual inimitable way, his positivity and enthusiasm palpable. He clearly wasn’t entertaining the notion that his king’s happiness could be in peril. It was exactly what Isaac needed. He pulled his friend into a rough bear hug, grateful for the opportunity to stop talking. There was still much to resolve and for the first time ever Isaac didn’t know if he was capable of succeeding in his mission. He was a mess. Talia was his captive, a fragile, vulnerable woman, yet she was trusting and loving, emotionally strong. Talia was sure of herself, knew who she was. He was the problem here. He was the one with the issues. He was King of Cornicunia, ruling his palace and his people, a monarch who wielded absolute power. He was physically strong, a dominant, commanding man…
But inside he was quaking.
He was in love but afraid of it, afraid of needing anyone other than himself. He was afraid of the intensity of his feelings for Talia. And she knew that, but she didn’t exploit her power. The tenderness in her soft voice… Sweet Isaac… please don’t be afraid.
Talia wanted to reassure him. She wanted this to work. And so did he.
He could do this, he could make this work. He had begun this afternoon by being honest with his advisors. He would complete his mission, discover the truth about the Lokians and pray it was what he wanted it to be, pray it would free him to find happiness with Talia. And then he would learn to live with his fear and trust his love.
Trust Talia.
***********
She was disorientated and confused, her mind still sodden with sleep. She was lying in Isaac’s enormous four-poster bed, the red velvet curtains half pulled around her, cocooned, warm, rested – and alone. Bereft of Isaac. Their separation physically hurt, her body aching for his as if part of her had been ripped away, leaving an empty, gaping hole yearning to be filled. Isaac completed her, blessed her with fulfilment she had never known was missing, but now she had experienced it there was no going back. There was Talia pre-Isaac and Talia post-Isaac, and they were two very different women.
She sighed, irritated by her new dependence on a man. She should be using the time alone to regain equilibrium and nurture her spiritual gifts – but all she could do was pine for Isaac. He had said he would be gone all afternoon and it felt like an eternity, but the sun was still bright and high in the sky, the room bathed in warm golden light. It was mid-afternoon, no more. She tried to enjoy the comfort and warmth and avoid focusing on the many questions whirling around her befuddled mind. Punishment, rules – so much had happened, and the fear in Isaac’s eyes was haunting her. It was not fear for his reign or mistrust of her people, it was not about power and control. It was so much more than that. This was personal, an intense vulnerability and emotional insecurity she had never expected to see. She hated it, hated seeing Isaac suffer. She wanted only to help him in any way she could, but she wasn’t allowed to speak. She had so many questions with no categorical answers for only Isaac could answer them. She would give anything for an afternoon where she could talk freely with him without fear of punishment or disapproval. She stared blankly across the room at the silent spectre of the cage, her nemesis, her tormentor. Most of the time she could ignore it, but now it was mocking her love for Isaac, taunting her with his depraved, erotic past. There was so much about him she still didn’t understand, might never understand…
She sighed again as she pushed the blankets off and crawled out of the bottom of the bed. Activity would help. If she was preoccupied with something she would usually go riding or take a very long walk, focus on something physical and clear her mind so when she returned to the issue she could tackle it afresh. But here she was a prisoner, a slave with a very kind master, but still a slave with no will of her own.
She padded over to the long windows in her transparent gown, basking in the sunlit warmth of the room. What she saw made her catch her breath. Spread out before her were the wild, untamed grounds of Isaac’s palace, their savage beauty a perfect reflection of their king. She breathed in the scent of damp woodland and long, lush grass, and her heart clenched, yearning for her forest home. The grass was smothered in a colourful carpet of wild flowers, their beauty taunting, tempting her to venture closer when she could not. Those innocent-looking blooms were skilled in the twisted art of cruelty, mercilessly teasing her with all she could not have, a slave locked in her master’s bedroom. And there was a river! She ran to the windows near the bathing room, desperate for an unhindered view. Tears pricked her eyes as her gaze fell on the ducks and swans resting on the riverbank, the kin of her spirit animal so close to her heart. She yearned to hear the chattering of geese and the quacking of ducks, see the swans’ black eyes sparkle and their feathers gleam in the sunlight. She yearned to breathe the same air they were breathing; they were her bridge between the earth and the spirit realms, winging their way between two worlds like angels and Lokian visionaries.
But her demon masquerading as an angel would not allow her this pleasure…
She stared at the taunting beauty of the riverbank and realised why she was exhausted all the time. Unable to cope with the demands of her new life, struggling for spiritual strength and clarity. This frailty was most unlike her, but she understood it now.
She was starving, slowly dying from lack of sustenance. Her belly was full, but her soul was withering away, craving nourishment Isaac’s flask and food and royal seed could never bless her with. Her breath was strained, halting, fractured… she was unable to breathe deeply and freely, clinging tenuously to life. She was a drowning woman, gasping for air…
Fresh air.
Outside.
She needed outside as all Lokian visionaries did. Birds. Trees. Sunlight. Water. Life.
Everything in Isaac’s palace was an illusion, the luxury and beauty a construct of humankind. Material splendour could never fulfil a Lokian visionary. She needed the spirit realms incarnate on mortal earth, immersion in nature. She needed her spirit to be absorbed into the shared consciousness of the natural world. It was the only thing that could bring her peace. She craved the caress of the sun’s unfettered warmth and the whisper of a soft breeze playing through her hair. Would she ever enjoy those simple pleasures again? Or would she be kept in this bedroom like a precious doll, existing only for the amusement of her owner? The thought was devastating. She had never been removed from nature, had lived within it every single day of her twenty-nine summers on earth. She had never been locked away – until now.
This was her punishment. Not the morning of fellatio or the pleasure/pain of the most intense orgasm of her life. This.
The beauty of the riverbank was her punishment, the cause of the breath stealing pain in her soul. The branches of the trees were her rack, the birds her manacles and chains, the soft breeze the bite of a whip against her delicate, over-sensitised skin…
Her punishment tortured, tormented… the river tantalisingly close and yet forbidden, a paradise just out of reach…
Like Isaac.
She could worship the river from afar and dream of being close to it but could never immerse herself in its beauty. She could never dip her bare toes into its cool healing waters or feed the many birds who lived there. Such joy was forbidden to Isaac’s slave.
She was trapped in this luxurious room with her beautiful captor, a man she could touch, a man whose body would be physically joined with hers time and time again. A man who would never allow her to be truly intimate with him. Never give her freedom. Would he insist on playing his game until her soul withered away, starved of expression and fulfilment?
“Talia?”
She spun around, blinking her tear-sodden eyes. Isaac edged towards her, his anxious gaze tearing at her heart.
“What’s wrong, Wanwisa?”
Wanwisa. His goddess of the sea. He had a pet name for her –
but that was all it was. All she was. A pet, a toy, nothing more. Not a person with dreams and desires of her own. Tears streamed unchecked down her face as Isaac wrapped her in his strong arms and cradled her tightly against his warm chest. He smelt of grass and sunlight and freedom and Isaac. His skin was musky and hot, the skin of a man who had been out hunting all afternoon, a free man who had enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the forest, not been imprisoned in a bedroom like her. She threw her head back and howled, the sound piercing through the silence and shocking her with its violence as it erupted into the room. Everything came spilling out, a torrent of terror, confusion and sadness, anger and loss, everything she had felt over the last few life-changing days.
The agony and despair of a love that was thwarted…
“Don’t… please, my little Wanwisa, please, don’t. I can’t bear to see your tears.”
She clung to him and wailed louder, undone by his tenderness. Why couldn’t he bear it? He had said he enjoyed punishing her. And that would make her cry – wouldn’t it?
“No, Talia, please stop. Tell me what’s wrong, whatever it is you can tell me and I will put it right. I will make you happy again, I promise.”
His voice was husky, cracking with emotion. She moved her face from his sodden shirt and gazed up into his beautiful blurry eyes.
“I miss birds and rats and sun and horses and trees and my blue sky, the colour of your eyes,” she wailed, her breath catching as she tried to talk through her tears. She was losing control. Everything was spilling out in an incomprehensible, jumbled mess and poor Isaac had asked for it. He must be regretting that now. Her lips quivered as she stared into his widening eyes, the spectacular something soothing her a little. It burned so brightly! But there was pain in his eyes too and she couldn’t bear to see him suffer.
“You miss them so much, Talia? You’ve only been here two days. You really feel so deprived?”
She sniffled loudly. She didn’t want to cause that pain in Isaac’s eyes. Maybe he was right, maybe she was overreacting. She had been here such a short time but…
“I have always lived such a large part of my life outside, the natural world nourishes my spirit. It is the Lokian way. We feel the interconnectedness of humankind and nature and embrace it in a way that is hard for others to understand; we feel the sensitivities of the earth’s vibrations. And now – now I am not allowed out and I… I don’t know if that will ever change! I can’t walk or ride or sit on the grass and… I love birds and horses!” She wailed, her tears causing her to cough uncontrollably. She was so congested from crying she could barely breathe. She managed to croak, “Your Majesty,” in-between coughs as she realised she had forgotten those two vitally important words; she could not withstand any more punishment today.
“You need to calm down, Talia. Come with me.”
Pain had consumed Isaac’s eyes, eclipsing the spectacular something, and she sobbed even harder at the terrible sight. Too much pain, too big a burden, her pain and the far greater torment of the agony in Isaac’s exquisite eyes.
He took her hand and led her to the bed, helping her sit back against the pillows, his touch gentle and reverent. She closed her eyes, exhausted by extreme emotion, her sudden hysteria destroying all the good work of her afternoon nap. If she kept her eyes closed she would not have to gaze upon the suffering she had inflicted upon poor Isaac. He rested his hand on top of hers, stroking it reassuringly. She moaned pitifully.
“Good God, Talia, I wanted you to rest and feel better.”
Her eyes opened to stare guiltily at him.
“I did. I slept for a long time, I think. I had only been looking out of the window for a few minutes before you came in… Your Majesty.”
His eyes narrowed. She had almost forgotten to address him correctly again. She caused him nothing but irritation and pain. She snuffled loudly.
“Oh, Talia, what am I going to do with you?”
He stood and she gazed fearfully up at him.
“Where are you going?” He raised an eyebrow but she could see he was forcing his stern expression. “Master,” she whispered meekly.
“That is not your concern, Talia.”
She wailed in response to his curt words, huge droplets of water cascading down her cheeks.
“Fuck!”
And then she was in his arms again. If she was a manipulative, devious woman she could use her tears to great effect… they clearly disturbed him. But she would never do such a cruel thing.
“Wanwisa, stop it, please, your tears destroy me. You need to relax.”
He took his flask from his pocket and held it to her lips. She mouthed “no” petulantly a couple of times, but he looked so sad she took a drink to appease him. Her tears plopped onto the flask and Isaac sighed mournfully. Nothing but irritation and pain… The water soothed her tear-ravaged throat and she was grateful. Isaac knew what was best for her, was trying to help her as well as he could. She impulsively lunged forwards to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“That’s better, good little visionary.” He wiped the last of her tears away. “There is something I have to do but I won’t be gone for long. Please try to relax.”
She nodded, so weary she could hardly speak. “I… I love… your kindness, Your Majesty.”
He stared silently down at her as she bit her lip. “I know, Wanwisa, I know. Relax now, I’ll be back very soon.”
He strode away, her angel masquerading as a demon, her poor, frightened Isaac… her Isaac…
***********
“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, you always fall asleep.”
“Mmm.”
“Come on, Wanwisa, wake up, we need to get you dressed. We’re going to have some fun before dinner.”
Fun? But she was to be dressed? She blinked up at him. He was the most confusing man in Cornicunia. There was something he was going to do with her that didn’t involve sex? This was astounding. She was his sex slave… wasn’t she? Or was she more than that? Their shared spiritual energy was real, and Isaac’s moments of tenderness and warmth were ever increasing in frequency and intensity. So could she really allow herself to believe she was more than just a slave to him?
Could he really love her as she loved…
“Talia?”
She blinked as she stared into his concerned eyes. She adored them, they were proof she was Talia to him, a living, breathing person, not a sex doll. She smiled.
“I’m ready, Your Majesty.”
Whatever this was she was ready for it. This was the real Isaac, this was not part of the game.
There was a dress lying on the bed next to her, a simple cream column dress with a low neckline and elbow-length sleeves. It was elegant yet informal, a dress for… what? She was still without underwear but this dress was thicker, more substantial than the flimsy gowns she had worn to the blue room. This dress was respectable. Even without underwear, she would be confident wearing it in the company of other people. Would she see other people this afternoon? What was Isaac planning to do with her?
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she whispered shyly. Her king had helped her dress again. She had undressed at his command but this was real intimacy.
“Let’s go.”
He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her cheek.
“Your Majesty, may I please brush my hair first?”
A lot had happened since this morning when Katrina had brushed her hair until it shone.
Isaac smiled. “I will do it for you.”
She sat still as a statue on the edge of the bed as he gently brushed through the tangles in her long auburn hair. Her eyes began to close again… such a relaxing sensation, the stiff bristles caressing her befuddled head as her master cosseted her, attended to her needs.
Her master was taking care of her again. Who was the slave here? It was a shocking thought. Her mouth dropped open. She was the slave… wasn’t she?
“All done, Wanwisa, come and look.”
She stared into his playful eyes, dazed by the direction of her thoughts. Was Isaac a slave to her love as she was to his? Still stunned, she let him take her by the hand and lead her to the dressing table.
“See how beautiful you are, Talia.”
She had not looked at herself for days apart from fleeting glances as Katrina prepared her for Isaac’s pleasure. His assessment of her beauty must be an indication of his inherent kindness rather than the truth for she had shamefully neglected herself, sleeping all afternoon without a care for her appearance. Her eyes widened as she stared at the glowing face in the mirror, an otherworldly luminous sight so unexpected she could not accept it was real. Her turquoise eyes shone and sparkled with light, her complexion clear and radiant. She had never appeared more beautiful.
And then she realised what this was.
It was the face of a woman in love.
Love had transformed her as exquisitely as it transformed everything it touched.
She gasped, and Isaac smiled again, his hand tightening around hers.
“You see, Talia? You are so very beautiful. And now you are convinced of your respectability, we will go. Come on.”
Wordlessly she followed him to the door. Her love. Her Isaac.
She was a woman in love. She could not deny it or protect herself. She was exposing her soul, laying herself open to hurt and pain. She should not allow herself to risk loving this man but she had no choice.
Talia and Isaac Page 18