"Something is not right"
Rowena's voice wavered with confusion rather than anger. Her fingers lingered on the brittle page of the report, her eyes scanning the words once more, as if they might rearrange themselves into better clarity. Vyrnmont waited patiently, already knowing things didn't go right.
She finally gave it to him, and he read it silently as she walked away.
"What does he mean he didn't even try to" she muttered, more to herself than to Vyrnmont. "He could easily turn her to ashes, why didn't he?"
She closed her eyes and took in a slow breath.
"Are they not suppose to priotize the order no matter what?" Vyrnmont asked calmly,folding the paper.
Rowena couldn't decide which was more infuriating, the fact he knew to confirm that, or he seemed totally unbothered by the news.
"No" she finally replied him, turning away.
"And you are sure your worm worked on him?"
She turned again, considered him suspiciously.
"It did" she said, like she was insulted, stepping closer to him. "Unless there's a reason you think it wouldn't?"
He looked at her, unfazed.
"The king is no longer your concern" he said, walking away.
She watched him leave. Her discomfort with their arrangement grows by the day and is reaching its limits, but she has given so much to give up now. Not when the end is in sight.
She walked away to a table and filled a glass with wine. She took a long sip and wandered to the window, watching the ever misty hills.
She never trusted him, but now she can't afford to trust him.
Her cunt throbbed at the thought of paying the boy king a visit. She risked upsetting a near normalcy she suffered so much to regain, but there's much at stake. Also something tells her it won't be the same with him totally in her control.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
I woke up with the heavy smell of vomit, sharp and sickly. My cheek was pressed against it--warm and lumpy.
Groaning, I pushed myself up and wiped my face with the sleeve of my clothes. The lights were back on, and I was alone. I saw my vomit. I didn't know I had that much in me. There was a thin trail from it that ended in what seemed like something got squashed, but so flatly that they seemed painted on the floor. I didn't understand it and waved it off as having been hard pressed by a part of my body or something.
My head throbbed as I bent down to pick the cube beside the vomit, and that was when I noticed that I had even pissed myself. Fuck. Staggering to my feet, I shuffled toward the open door, where a stunned Ophelia was looking at me like she had seen a ghost.
"Get me new clothes and a bucket of water" I said to her, and she just stood there in her usual lazy disobedience. "Now" I drawled.
I was too tired and weak to be annoyed or patient, and I think she read that and went about it, though not in a hurry. I watched her for a moment then walked back in.
What was that all about? I asked myself, recalling the event that had dropped me to the ground. I had so much fear that moment, but now--it seems like they've all been drained from me.
I walked, looking around. Maybe it comes from the confidence of seeing that they didn't want me dead. Or couldn't. I was comfortable. I touched an attractive weapon rack covered in dust and cobwebs, and then walked on.
My eyes settled on the sculptures guarding the doors to the tomb. No doubt one of them did that, even though there was something smoky in the hand. Why? A warning? They both stand at least 15 feet tall and impossibly life-like for a rock sculpture. Dressed like knights, though no crest, they were imposing and intimidating now that I know they are more than mere sculptures. I walked on.
Ophelia returned soon after. I didn't want to approach her with my soiled clothes so I shed them before going to meet her, completely naked.
I collected the items and retreated back to where my vomit was. The bath was quick and refreshing, my headache already easing. I dressed up, used [Water Arts] to scrub my vomit into the bucket, scraping the stubborn part of it with my foot as best I could. I replaced the egg with the cube and left the vault.
I handed Ophelia the bucket and was thinking on how to close the doors, because they were heavy iron, when I saw it move on it's own gently. It closed and I heard locks snapping into place, at the end of which the crystal lost it's faint glow.
I flew up and plucked it out, and then we left.
I headed to Eowyn's chambers, clutching the egg. The knights simply opened the door when I got near and I walked in.
She was naked, and judging by the sudden shutting of the dressing room door, so was Isadora.
"Your Majesty," she smiled in greeting, unbothered by my eyes ravaging her body.
Her breasts were full and heavy, and her hips flared out.
I passed on the egg to Ophelia, who had already given the bucket to a maid on our way here.
"You offer the best gifts, Eowyn" I said, stepping closer, holding her arms. "You look beautiful as always"
"And you are like a child with a toy"
I laughed softly, my hands sliding to her waist. "Then let me be spoiled."
"Always reaching" she said, amused, but gently twisted out of the mild hold.
"What brings you here?" she asked, turning to a cluttered table.
I moved closer beside her. There were some fine sea stones, each with a different markings carved on them. Vases, roots, fresh twigs, and things I couldn't recognize.
"What are you doing?" I watched her crush a pink flower bud into a bowl of thick paste.
"Druid ritual because you are yet to claim yours"
I chuckled and turned, leaning back against the table. "I've been very busy."
"It would appear so" she replied simply.
It made me chuckle but I said nothing again. I just watched her work. Watch as her breasts move as she grind. Watch the well formed nature of what seem to be a soft ass.
"It's time" she called after a while, carrying the bowl away.
I followed her towards the bathhouse and she waited by the door. The door of the dressing room finally opened and a very shy and naked Isadora stepped out. Before I could properly appreciate the nudity of the most beautiful girl I've ever seen she ran, into the bathhouse, almost falling. It was cute.
"You are not allowed inside, Your majesty" Eowyn blocked me as I was following her in. "It will disturb the rituals"
I didn't argue and walked back, and she shut the door. I went to the bed and laid down, fingers locked behind my head and my shoes on.
If the egg gives me a dragon, that will take away some pressure from wanting to sleep with Eowyn and allow it develop into it on its own. It would yield more, and more importantly the process satisfying.
The doors opened and only Eowyn came out.
"Is she alright?" I asked, still lounging.
"It was nothing" Eowyn replied, moving to the table. "She's just a child"
She dropped the bowl and washed her hand in another, not because it was dirty it would seem.
She walked towards Ophelia with a graceful sway. "I would assume you've come to hatch the egg" she said, collecting it from an Ophelia that seems happy to get rid of it.
"Yes" I said, climbing down from the bed. "How do I do it?"
I walked to her as she was inspecting the egg. Ophelia was already by the side drinking.
"We will have to go outside" she said, handing me the egg.
She went into the dressing room and put on a plain green dress, and we left.
We went to the courtyard and she had me set it on the ground. A group of maids walked by, looking at us with curious interest as they passed.
"Here" she passed me a small dagger. "Draw blood from here--" she said, tapping her wrist. "and press it on the egg"
I did as she asked without hesitation. I watched my blood run down the lines of the patterns in a gentle rush to the bottom. The different colors of the egg pulsed faintly.
"That's enough" Eowyn said, and I stood back up.
No one thought to bring a bandage so I just used my other palm to press down on it as we waited.
For sometime it felt like nothing would happen, but it did.
The first crack coincided with deep, quick rumble of thunder and at the time I thought it was going to rain.
Had I looked at Eowyn, at her stunned, confused expression at the thunder, maybe I would have had an idea, but I was occupied by the egg.
It cracked, and cracked some more. A black goo started coming from ontop, through the first crack. It was very black, and now it was spread out ontop the egg and running down the surface of the egg to the ground.
We just stood there and watch, none knowing what was happening or how to react to it. Few moments in, they all gathered as one into a black lump, the size of my palm. We still waited but there was no more movement.
I looked at Eowyn with a ' surely that can't be it look' but she too was confused. I moved closer to the egg and peered in but the inside was just a black mess, nothing else.
"You owe me a gift, Eowyn" I said, walking towards her.
"I've never heard of something like this before" she seemed to agree.
"So when do I collect?"
She ignored me and walked past, towards the egg. She went to the ground and scooped up the goo.
"This thing is alive" she said after sometime staring at it.
"What do you mean?"
She turned gently. She was holding it with both palms like she was holding water, trying not to spill.
"This is a living creature" she repeated, her eyes not leaving it. "I have never seen anything like it"
I came closer because it didn't seen like Eowyn was capable of moving again. I watched it, and it did seem to move a bit, but that's probably because of Eowyn. She seems so taken by it.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Here" she said.
She had me prepare my hands and gently poured it in. It was like a silicone, and warm to the touch.
"It is yours, you should be able to feel it's life."
I gave it a moment. "I don't feel anything--"
"Focus!"
I relaxed. And listened. I was looking at it with so much intensity that I naturally leaned into it. Everything dulled out and there was just it in magnified focus. Time seemed to slow, and then I heard it. Soft, fast. The goo was truly alive.
┌─────── ♕ ───────┐
They made their camp beside a frozen stream, a little below a small waterfall. The night was clear and cold, and the stars were bright above the trees. Their fire had burned low, and its embers glowed faintly, casting long shadows that flickered against the trunks of the trees.
Mustapha sat silent, watching the darkness beyond the circle of firelight.
The young girl huddled close, knees pulled to her chest, fighting back sleep, as she watched the feline sleep. She would only sleep when Mustapha sleeps, but Mustapha had no intentions of sleeping as they were less than a day away from Drakoria. He couldn't convince himself why he was going back, and it bothered him. The excuse with the slave doesn't make sense. The king wouldn't care about the feline, and he knows that so why is he insistent on going back? Why did he travel days upon days to get back to a place where he was running from?
He had no answer. It was as if something was dragging him back, and normally he would be curious but this one scares him.
An owl hooted somewhere in the trees. The girl flinched awake—she had drifted off against his shoulder. She straightened herself, blinking, then turned her attention once more to the feline.
Mustapha didn't move. He was already thinking of turning back when they got close enough to see the capital's walls, but something in his chest refused. It wasn't about the girl. It wasn't about the slave.
He scratched an itch on his arm. The owl called again.
He just didn't know why.