The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI (17 page)

Aesa lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes brushing her cheek as stared at the floor. “You want to know why I’m here.”

“Yes, how does an Empress of the exalted House of Farlein wind up in a crypt?”

Aesa said nothing, clearly engaged in some internal struggle, so Raine prompted her further. “And perhaps you can explain to me why the Shadow Guild wants you?”

The Empress closed her eyes, knowing she must reveal all to this stranger.

“It’s not the Shadow Guild, but rather the Head of the Shadow Guild that wants me.”

“You speak of Pernilla.”

It was a gamble, but a gamble that paid off. The Empress’ gaze came up and was steady. “You know a name that is dangerous, a name that no one knows.”

“But you know it.”

“Yes. Because I know her.”

“How?”

“It’s a very long story, but one you must hear.”

Raine crossed a leg comfortably over the other. “You have my full attention.”

The young Empress made her way through the castle. She was greatly favored now, both by her husband and by the people, for she had just produced an heir for her aging husband at a time when he had nearly given up hope. Her life was a shower of gifts and glamorous events in her honor, and it should have been a glorious time.

But it was not. Life felt empty, hollow. Her matron nurse told her it was the after-effects of the pregnancy, that sometimes the strain of birth was so great that a woman could fall into despair, even to the extent that she failed to bond with the child. And that was indeed how Aesa felt, as if a dark gray veil were settling over her eyes, as if the world were slowly going dark. She tried to love her child, the infant that lie in the gilded crib, but he seemed a foreigner, as if someone had left a child on the doorstep of the castle. It was not necessary for her to bond with the boy, nor even truly desirable, for he already had a series of nurses to breastfeed him and take care of the duties that were beneath an Empress.

So she wandered the castle, a wraith-like creature, outwardly smiling and cheerful to all she met, but inwardly slowly dying with an invisible disease whose symptoms were the triumvirate of apathy, lethargy, and despondency. Only her closest handmaiden knew of her inner despair, and the older woman sought many ways to jar her from her mood, including gossip and rumor.

“The Emperor has a new advisor, I am told.”

“And?” Aesa replied languorously.

“She is quite beautiful, I hear.”

Aesa knew what her attendant was doing, attempting to inspire jealousy so that she would display any spark of life, but the thought of her husband having an affair barely moved her.

“That’s nice,” Aesa said, and her handmaiden left in frustration.

Still, the servant’s words inspired, if not ire, at least mild curiosity, and soon Aesa rose from her bed and dressed herself, paying more attention to her appearance than she had in some time. She floated down the hallways, only mildly aware of her waiflike beauty and the admiration it occasioned.

She entered the throne room and her husband looked to her with hope, pleased to see her up and about. She waved to him as she approached from across the room, then stopped at an urn containing a spray of flowers: orchids and autumnal blooms from the countryside. The flowers were lovely, but that was not her focus as she bent to smell them, allowing her to pause and examine those surrounding her husband. All were familiar to her but one, and her first thought was that her handmaiden had underestimated the gossip, for the woman was not only beautiful but stunning in a unique manner. Where most women of the court were frail, pale creatures that fluttered about, this one was earthy and voluptuous, possessing a sensuality that would have been considered uncouth or even vulgar were it not displayed with such utter confidence. Her eyes were dark, so dark it was difficult to discern their true color, and she glanced about the room coolly, those eyes settled on the Empress.

Aesa started, for she was openly staring, but she could not look away. She slowly stood upright, gazing out over the orchids, her eyes still locked with the magnetic gaze of the woman. Seemingly against her will, she found herself moving toward the throne.

“My darling, it is good to see you. I trust you are well?”

The Empress curtsied, glad that she had worn one of her finest gowns, and took her husband’s hand.

“I am very well today, my lord. Thank you.”

“I must introduce you to Melusine. She is an alchemist and practitioner of the arcane arts. She has offered her services to the court and has provided much guidance and advice. She has already settled a stubborn dispute and rooted out an intrigue before it blossomed into a threat.”

“That’s wonderful,” Aesa said, wondering why her voice trembled so, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I assure you,” the woman said in a low, smooth voice, “the pleasure is all mine. I am at your service.”

Aesa had no idea why such an innocuous statement, one she heard many times a day, caused her to flush. Or why the knowing, amused expression on the woman’s face made her insides coil and writhe about, bringing forth a warm wetness between her legs that not even her husband had been able to produce with his gentle advances. And why the words, “I am at your service” were not at all servile but somehow implied the opposite.

The Emperor was surprised that his usual glib wife seemed to be struggling in the conversation, but he attributed it to her latest bout of ill humours. He took her arm.

“Come, Aesa. Come sit with me.”

And so the Empress did, sat next to her husband while he sought to entertain her with the court chitchat. Aesa wanted to ask more of Melusine, but could not get the words to form in her head without them sounding transparent, although she didn’t know what that transparency would reveal. Instead, she let her eyes follow the woman about the room, responding to the Emperor’s chatter when the conversation warranted. And occasionally, the woman’s dark eyes would return to her, coolly assessing her with that knowing look that sent a thrill through the young sovereign.

The afternoon passed, and it was with enormous disappointment that Aesa watched Melusine depart from the throne room, a room which had seemed bright with promise and now seemed darker than it had all day.

Aesa slowly flowed down the passageway, as wraithlike as ever, for now she was deeply lost in thought. And where before she had displayed at least the pretense of attentiveness and courtesy, now she displayed none at all. The guards, servants, and nobles she passed did not garner even a glance.

She came to the wing of the palace that was usually deserted, one staffed by only a few guards at regular intervals. This had been one of her favorite places before her despondency, and she would come every day to sit among the statuary and read or sew. Today she was neither reading nor sewing, and stood before a statue that she had always admired without seeing it. The marble mermaid gazed coyly at Aegir, but neither the god of the sea nor the Empress of the House of Farlein saw her.

“She is lovely, is she not?”

The voice behind her startled Aesa, as did the warm air that tickled her ear. Heat flooded her body at that low tone and she feared to turn around, so closely was Melusine standing to her. She could feel the woman’s robes brush against her back. She had not heard or seen the woman approach; it was almost as if she had materialized behind her.

“Quite—, quite lovely,” Aesa stammered.

“Turn around.”

It was a command, and the Empress was not used to being commanded, but still, she turned, as if lacking any will of her own. She started to speak, trying to raise some indignation at the impropriety, but she was unable to, and Melusine stopped her short.

“You will not speak.”

The indignation should have flourished, but still Aesa obeyed, almost fearfully. This woman possessed some power over her that was alarming.

“In fact,” Melusine said, “you’re going to remain completely silent.”

And with that, the woman pushed her fully into the alcove and against the wall, her firm breasts so improperly pressed against her. And she bent down and captured Aesa’s mouth in a brutal, hungry kiss that was scandalous and terrifying and exactly what Aesa wanted her to do. And Aesa was helpless, lacking any will to resist and a growing desire for her to do more. And Melusine complied, bending slightly to hike the Empress’ skirt over her own knee while her hand dove under the tented folds to find the silk panties and what treasures were contained within. Aesa moaned as the hand stroked the softness there and Melusine smiled at the dampness she found.

“Shhh,” Melusine commanded, and muffled the moan with her kiss, and Aesa was desperate to comply for the guards were only a short distance away. But that monstrous, wonderful hand had taken control of her and her hips moved with an abandon that Aesa would have associated only with the town harlots. She pressed against the woman and those stroking fingers, and Melusine held her with a strength that was astounding. It was not long before her body released and the woman muffled her cry with another fierce kiss that Aesa never wanted to end.

And then Melusine released her, straightening and smoothing the Empress’ skirt in a manner that was both aloof and possessive. She examined the flushed features in front of her, reached some sort of conclusion that Aesa could not decipher, but one that resulted in a slight smile of triumph, then the woman simply disappeared.

The Empress stalked about her chambers. She had dismissed her handmaidens at once, certain her infidelity was written on her face. Her servants had noted her state of extreme agitation and wondered if her illness was worsening. But they left her to pace her chambers like a trapped animal.

What had that been? By the gods, what had gotten into her? She loved her husband. Granted, it was more the love one would feel for a kindly father figure than for a romantic partner, but she was the Empress and had duties, responsibilities, and loyalties that went back generations. She had an infant son, for divine’s sake, one that even now lie in his crib pining for his mother.

Aesa whirled about. She would have that woman banished, exiled. But no sooner had this thought entered her head then two more quickly followed. How in the world would she explain this sudden peculiarity? This unprompted eccentricity? And why did the thought fill her with such despair?

She went to the window, looked out at nothing, then grasped the curtains and yanked them closed. She felt exposed and claustrophobic all at the same time. She wrung her hands, clenched them together until her knuckles were white, then at last collapsed onto her settee in tears.

It was several days before the Empress emerged from her chambers, and the Emperor commented on his concern for his wife’s health to his staff. She had been so fragile he had feared losing her in childbirth, but now he felt he was losing her in ways he did not understand. There were no rumors about her, other than those regarding her strange, restless misery. He had even queried Melusine, whom he had grown to trust unreservedly in a very short time, and she had assured him of his wife’s fidelity and love.

Aesa sat upon the throne uneasily, her eyes flitting now and then to the robed woman who moved amongst the nobles with ease. She acted as if nothing had happened, and her manner was so casual and unaffected that Aesa began to wonder if the whole thing had been a dream. But every once in a while, with timing that was preternatural, for it was always concealed from her husband and all others, the woman would glance to the Empress with a smoldering, possessive gaze that indicated she found the situation entertaining. And Aesa’s heart would flutter, her mouth would go dry, and she would look elsewhere, anywhere but at the woman who moved amongst the most powerful figures in Arianthem as if they were sheep.

The young woman trembled when the advisor approached the throne, but she paid Aesa no mind, and engaged solely with the Emperor, leaving the Empress both relieved and fuming until the woman departed. She watched Melusine with a mixture of dread and jealous longing, scrutinizing her every interaction. Finally Aesa could take it no more and excused herself from her formal obligations, and her husband watched her depart, visibly saddened that his young wife was so distressed.

Aesa tossed and turned in her bed. Sleep was no longer any solace, for her dreams were stalked by a hauntingly beautiful woman who toyed with, then discarded her. So she lie staring up at the gilded ceiling as the shadows lengthened and the moon cast a cool blue light on her floor through the window.

“Your husband worries about you.”

The Empress sat up in bed. She did not think she had been sleeping, but she must have dosed off because the door did not open and yet Melusine was at the foot of her bed. She clasped the sheet to her breast, for she wore only a thin camisole, a defensive move the advisor observed with disdain.

“He sent me here hoping I could provide a tincture or tonic for you.”

The irony of having her husband send Melusine to her was almost too much for Aesa, and she felt a little hysterical. She fought the sensation and steadied her voice.

“And do you have one?”

Melusine observed this bit of pluck with more favor, and moved to the side of the bed, sending another whirlwind of discordant emotions through Aesa.

“I do,” Melusine said, removing a small bottle from her robe. She sat down on the edge of the bed and unscrewed the lid of the container. “Here, taste.”

Aesa hesitated, for Melusine dipped her own finger in the mixture and held it up to Aesa. Aesa paused only a moment, though, and leaned forward and placed her lips upon the finger and the ointment. Melusine was pleased with the boldness.

“It tastes like mint.”

“Yes,” Melusine said, pressing the Empress backward down into the bed. “It does. But for you to get its full effect, I’m going to have to consume it.”

“I don’t underst—.”

But Aesa did suddenly understand when Melusine took the ointment on her fingers and slipped her hand inside the camisole to massage the breast. The nipple sprang to life and Melusine pushed the camisole aside so her mouth could cover it, her tongue playfully toying with the flesh and licking the mint from the skin. She was as attentive to the other, massaging it, licking, suckling, even biting it as Aesa arched beneath her. And as she toyed with the breasts, her hand found more ointment, then found the throbbing between the Empress’ legs, and the two met in firm contact that made Aesa half moan and half sob with desire. But Melusine was relentless and her lips and tongue traveled downward to find the mint between her thighs and Aesa was lost to a carnal act she had only heard of in scandalous rumor. Melusine licked, caressed and suckled just as she had done with the breast, except when she bit, it was lightly on the inner thigh as the tiny nub that now seemed the center of Aesa’s being was so sensitive it could sustain only the feathering of lips. It was outrageous and indecent and felt better than anything she had felt in her entire life. And when the lips returned to what had become Aesa’s core, her breathing increased until she was panting, then stopped as her body shuddered and shook, then at last was still.