Phantom of the Heart (6 page)

The blue eyes melted as they looked into hers and a short nod followed. Almost immediately, the large hand delved into the bag. Sterling watched tenderly as her betrothed rushed through the cakes. She pushed her hand through the short, dark hair and smiled. She would make sure that Orla would not want for anything ever again.

Chapter 6

The roads leading to
Kemble
were swarming with wagons, horses, and people as everyone made their way with determined purpose to the large castle overlooking the picturesque city in the largest kingdom in the realm. Music and merriment could be heard for miles, welcoming the weary travelers. Three weeks ago, ten messengers were sent to each and every corner of the realm to invite every noble to the wedding ceremony of the year. With only two more days until the big day, everyone was rushing toward the city to see for themselves the joining of the future queen of Karas and the legendary blacksmith.

For the subjects of this great kingdom, having one of their own taken up into the higher echelons of their great land was more than enough reason to invite themselves to the festivities. But to make the wedding of the year the best there was ever going to be, they worked hard at sweeping the city's streets, cleaning out the royal stables, and placing flower sellers on every corner of the city to spread the aroma throughout.

At the castle, it was even busier. Servant girls and pages were rushing up and down the long gleaming hallways of the castle. Rooms were double-checked, fresh linen was distributed to the eighty guestrooms, and piles of wood were carried to the rooms to stock the fireplaces, all in anticipation of the wedding guests. No one dared take a break as there was still so much to be done. As servants and chambermaids entered and exited the rooms, one bedroom, in actual fact, a whole wing of the castle was left undisturbed.

Cut off from the world and the wedding feast rush, a soft moan broke the silence followed by a teasing giggle. A warning was issued last night at dinner that the queen and her mate would be indisposed for the whole of the day, something to do with them discussing the finer details of the wedding pact. But had one of the maids the courage to peek through the keyhole, she would have found the Supreme Royal Couple using a more primitive way of communicating.

Naked and lying spread-eagled on the king-sized bed, cushioned with numerous fur blankets, was the regal Queen Mesmeria, her hands caught in the slightly graying, dark locks of her partner, as the latter was hungrily feasting on her musky, dewy center. In between the hungry grunts from her mate, the queen was lustfully encouraging her dark mate to do some of the most unthinkable deeds to her.

“I want you to…inside.” She pulled hard on the dark tresses and, with a soft moan, Cybralle lifted her head from between her mate's legs. Her silver eyes were almost transparent with lust as she looked up into her wife's eyes.

“If you dare to interrupt me again, sweeting, I will make sure that you never forget my reprisal.”

Mesmeria reached down, dipped her fingers between her swollen folds and offered it to her mate. She watched with hungry fascination as the large woman licked her hand clean.

“I want to feel you inside me, my love.”

The silver eyes narrowed. “I am not finished yet. Are you trying to test my patience, dearling?”

With a small pout, she swung her right leg over Cybralle's head and, with lightning speed, jumped off the bed. Standing on the other side of the bed, she watched with wry amusement as her mate stared at her in mute shock.

Mesmeria's eyes widened, as her mate lifted her large frame from the bed, muscles pulling taut and bulging as she stretched out her towering six-foot-three-inch frame. With a feral look in her eyes, she slowly began to stalk her, making the hair on Mesmeria's nape stand up straight. For all her size and strength, Cybralle was unbelievably gentle, maybe too energetic sometimes, but never cruel. Mesmeria looked around for an escape route, but the only way out was to jump over the bed and run through to their private lounge. She was not the young girl Cybralle used to chase around naked anymore. At forty-three summers, she was but two summers younger than Cybralle, but the warrior stayed in perfect shape with her daily sword training. She would be intercepted before she had even reached the bed. She took a small step back and, not able to look into the intense, glittering silver eyes anymore; she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

She jumped when she felt a soft breath on her cheek and opening her eyes she met Cybralle’s piercing gaze. Without a word, Cybralle swung her up in powerful arms and walked over to the small bench before the vanity mirror. The dainty little bench creaked under their mutual weight. With painstaking patience, Cybralle took each of her feet and placed them on the vanity chest, her legs spread widely apart so that she could see herself reflected in the large mirror. A soft whimper of anticipation escaped Mesmeria’s lips and she jumped slightly when Cybralle blew soft air into her ear.

“Hush, sweeting, you will enjoy this. Trust me.”

She threw her head back until it rested on Cybralle's broad shoulder, her green eyes tightly shut. She was in for a great adventure, because not once had Cybralle promised her a tremendous moment that she did not deliver.

***

The shed was blazingly hot, but even with sweat running down her back, Sterling would not want to be anywhere else. Standing before her, in a long apron and with sweat running down her body, lifting the heavy hammer over and over, was the most beautiful woman in the whole kingdom.

The dark head lifted and their eyes met. They shared an intimate smile before the sweat-slicked, dark head lowered. For the past two candle marks, she had tried to make out what the blacksmith was working on. Her query received only a vague answer followed by a mysterious smile. At the sight of the smile, she was at a loss for words and could only stare at the transformation it brought to the already beautiful face of her wife-to-be. The hammering suddenly stopped. She watched as Orla moved over to a container filled with water. A sharp hissing sound followed and the dark woman turned back to her.

“You should not see this before it is done. Please, turn around while I put it away.”

More than happy to soon have all of her betrothed's attention, Sterling quickly turned away. After a few moments had passed, she felt strong arms circling her waist. She turned and caught Orla's lips in a hungry kiss. She would keep her promise to wait until Orla was ready to come to their marital bed, but she could not hide the desire she felt for her. She broke the kiss and stared into Orla’s eyes, unaware of the yearning look in her own eyes.

“It will not be too long anymore.”

Confused, she shook her head. “What do you mean?”

A sudden, shy look crossed Orla's face and she quickly looked away. Sterling carefully lifted Orla's face again.

“Are you talking about our wedding night, my love?”

Orla nodded just as her tongue peeked out between her lips, making her look like a very naughty, shy girl.

“I love you, dearling. I love you so much, and I desire you just as much, but it does not mean that I cannot wait until you are ready.”

“But as your wife it is within your rights to demand it from me.”

Sterling chuckled softly. “It could be done, but not when you are completely in love with your wife, like I am.” She took the large hand in hers. “Come, it is almost time for the noon meal. I asked the cook to send something down for us.”

“Let me first get rid of the grime, Sterling.”

She watched as Orla walked over to a corner. With her back turned, Orla loosened the apron and placed it on a hook and then reached for her short-sleeved shirt. Her throat suddenly dry, Sterling looked around to see if anyone was around. Using only one hand, Orla pulled the shirt over her head, treating Sterling to a mouthwatering sight of a smooth, muscled back. Orla bent to pour water from a pitcher into a small basin and her large hands scooped the water to rinse her face and the rest of her upper body. Watching with an unblinking stare, Sterling's body was ablaze with desire. Her hungry gaze traveled down the half-naked frame of her betrothed, and she felt the dampness between her legs increase the longer she looked at Orla. She did not know how or when she had moved, but her hand was on the broad back, stroking the taut, smooth skin. There was a slight stiffening of muscles under her hand, but then it was gone.

“Sterling…”

At the soft sound of her name, she quickly withdrew her hand. She was scaring Orla. She was moving too fast.

“Forgive me, dearling. It was not my intention to scare you,” she said, through a very dry throat, as she watched Orla shrug into her shirt. Sterling had averted her eyes and only looked up again when Orla turned around.

“You did not scare me. It was…it was very nice…I mean…the feel of your hand on my naked skin. It was very pleasant.” Orla was blushing furiously and her eyes were dark as they flitted between Sterling's face and the floor.

Sterling just shook her head at the delightful woman and took her hand. “It was very nice for me too. Now come and let us eat before I have to be back at the training field.”

They ate lunch in companionable silence. Sterling was seated in Orla's lap; a habit she knew would be difficult to break one day, if she had to, that is. She loved the easy intimacy. She just loved being around this woman. She loved her clean, earthy scent and the shy smile that came over her face when she sneaked quick looks her way. She loved the way she kissed. Now that she knew how nice they were she could not imagine her life without any of Orla's kisses. She looked up from her sandwich. A deep warm glow started in the pit of her stomach when she found Orla’s eyes already resting at her. She leaned closer and pressed her lips against Orla's. They looked deep into each other's eyes and shared an intimate smile.

After their meal, one of the grooms came over to collect the basket and return it to the kitchen. Orla gave her a lingering kiss before pushing her out of the shed and in the direction of the training field. Sterling made sure to stay more on the side lines. With her brain still reeling from the kiss, she was in great danger of literally losing her head if she partook in the sparring exercises. She called her generals to her and, after a brief meeting, she returned to the castle and made straight for the wing which housed her parents' suite of rooms.

She knocked softly on the door. No answer. The second time around she knocked harder and was relieved when she heard a soft noise on the other side of the room. The door was opened by Cybralle, still dressed in her chamber robe. They looked at each other with identical raised eyebrows.

“Your mother and I thought that the only chance for us to be able to spend time together was before the wedding. Does that answer your question as to why I am still dressed in my chamber robe?”

Sterling shrugged. “May I enter or is it a bad time?”

Cybralle took a quick step back and Sterling pushed passed her. She came up short at the sight of her mother lying sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep.

“Is she not feeling well, Umah?”

Cybralle shrugged, but avoided eye contact. “She is just resting.”

“But it is…”

“For heaven's sake, Sterling, why all the questions?” Cybralle growled softly.

Sterling looked at her mother and then back to Cybralle before a slow smile lit up her features. The smile broadened when she saw a faint dusting of pink run up her mother's face. She turned away and walked through to her parents' private lounge. She calmly took a seat and waited for her mother to fold her tall frame into a chair.

“I am in need of your advice, Umah.”

A dark eyebrow lifted. “What can I do for you?”

Sterling inhaled deeply.

“Orla is inexperienced and I fear that my passion for her might…might scare her.” Cybralle nodded encouragingly. “I promised that I would not pressure her into yielding to me on our wedding night. I am scared of having her in my arms and breaking my promise.”

“You are aware of the difference between love and lust, daughter. I know you love her very much and that alone will be reason enough for you to wait for her to come to you freely.”

Sterling smiled tenderly. “I will wait for her, Umah, even if it means that I have to take ice water baths for as long as it takes.”

Cybralle chuckled softly at that. “Just pray she gets around to it before winter commences. You could freeze off vital parts.”

Sterling grinned faintly.

“I hope so too.” She rubbed her eyes and exhaled noisily. “I crave her, Umah. I crave her like I do air. She has this gentleness about her that robs me of my breath. I am so scared of leaving her when I have to return to the Wastelands in a few weeks.”

“It will just be for a short while, Sterling. Maybe even just a few weeks.”

Sterling shuddered at that and Cybralle chuckled.

“One night away from her could be the death of me, I swear.”

Cybralle lifted her head and looked toward the bed. Mesmeria was still very much asleep.

“It was the same with your mother. I found it very difficult to leave your mother behind when I had to leave for the battleground. Many great and loyal men never made it back from the Wastelands and I knew every time I left her arms that it could have been the last time. It became worse when she was expecting you. She would cry a lot and I feared for her sanity. I had to withdraw from the front. It was the best decision I ever made and the best gift I could have ever given her.”

Sterling cleared her throat softly.