The hardest part of getting away after dinner was shaking Arthur. While he wasn’t glued to Maeve, he still didn’t seem to trust me and seemed determined to poke his nose in. Sephy, who’d normally distract him, was trying to covertly join us. The prince hovered about like a fly over a treat.
It wasn’t until Maeve swatted him away, bluntly asking if he was doubting both her judgement of character and her ability to protect herself, that he finally left. He glared at me over his shoulder as he departed, and I knew this was going to come back to bite me.
True to her word, Maeve found us a place with a positively amazing window. The Felix Lodge had a single tower, which I’d initially assumed was for housing flying beasts, but when she took us up to the top of it, I found it was instead an observatory, designed for observing the motions of stars. A dome with a wide opening that faced the Moon offered an escape and a wonderful view.
Surrounded by comfy chairs, big desks, and stacks of notes was the centrepiece of the room—a beautiful brass telescope as tall as I was. It was a surprising feature in a cultivator’s estate, as I’d heard telescopes spoken of as a creation of mortals who envied cultivators’ eyes. I circled it as our conversation stalled, Maeve fidgeting as we waited for Sephy, neither of us wanting to repeat ourselves. To fill the time, I approached the eyepiece and took a look.
My breath left me in a rush. It was beautiful.
The Moon filled my vision. There was detail I’d never quite noticed before. While my eyes could reveal the same elements, with my greater vision and the telescope’s help, there was so much more I could pick out. A vast, unchanging desert covered in great craters became a pockmarked and bumpy landscape.
I felt a shift and noticed the telescope move, some runic construction manoeuvring it to track the Moon across the sky. Taking a step back, I admired the clever construction, glad I’d not dismissed the simple tool as a ‘mortal’ fancy.
“Interesting, is it?” Maeve asked.
“Take a look.” I gestured to the eyepiece. Maeve came up and looked. She only stood there for a moment or two before nodding.
“Very pretty.” I almost laughed at her lack of reaction. The blade-gifted was truly a different soul compared to me.
“I need to get Lance up here. She would love it.”
“You have your former fiancée and current paramour in the room and are thinking of other women? You scoundrel!” Sephy’s silhouette appeared at the opening of the dome. The moonlight framed her and her impish grin wonderfully.
“I look forward to making it up to you.” I smiled back, offering her a hand to descend. She gracefully took it and gently descended to join us in the room proper. Maeve watched, her face calculating.
“Well, I’m even more certain of my current plans now.” She bowed to Sephy. “Lady Persephone, thank you for joining us. I have a bit of business which mostly concerns Taliesin first, and then I have something that concerns the three of us, but I’d like you to be here for all of it.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Lady Maeve. I see your chaperone is not about?”
“The reasons behind that will be clear soon.” Maeve then took a breath. “I would like if one of you could set up some privacy runes.”
“I will, of course.” Sephy nodded. She was better with runes than I was by a great margin. Still, we exchanged a look. This was getting stranger by the second. Why would she ask for our runes? She surely had her own.
We all grabbed some seats, sinking into the soft leather as we sat around a low table. The conversation started normally enough. Maeve thanked me for saving her and for my actions in delivering my secret reports to her. It felt formal, but I could sense the terrible sincerity in her words. Sephy stayed quiet, recognising that this part of the discussion was between just us.
“I have another thing to thank you for as well.” Maeve’s voice, which had held all the confidence and power of a scion of one of the most powerful families in Euross, faltered. She took a deep breath and pushed on. “I must thank you for aiding my cultivation. Your words helped me redefine what it was to succeed, how I should define victory.”
“I was stuck at the bottleneck for years. I reached it in near record time, but I could never seem to find an intent that resonated. Stuck there, as the months and years passed, I blamed myself. I saw it as a failure. That I’d lost.”
“Then I met you, heard your conviction. Your survival doesn’t lessen that commitment I sensed from you. How you chose the field upon which you battled and defined what it meant to win. It was like I could breathe again for the first time. My ‘loss’ was imagined. All these barriers and expectations were nonsense I’d invented or allowed others to force upon me. None of it mattered if I could, like you, find my way forward.”
“I thank you for that, and have prepared a small gift.” She pulled out a small box, opening it to offer me a short knife. It was a sturdy camping knife, small enough to be concealed, with a pale horn hilt wrapped in black leather. As I took it from the box, I could feel subtle runes engraved within.
“A knife. How fitting.” She looked worried for a second before I reassured her, “I mean it genuinely. I have need of a good tool such as this.”
“It’s a discreet blade. The hilt contains a chamber you should be able to fill with ash. The blade is enchanted to be exceptionally durable, and the tip can start fires.”
“A fine gift. I am pleased to have been of such help to you. I would say there are no debts between us, but I sense there’s something else you need to tell us about. Given that Rensleigh is absent and we’re using our privacy wards, which makes it unlikely she can listen in, I must admit I’m curious.”
“Yes. It unfortunately has to do with Mother Chox. Our matriarch, while thankful for your aid, has become a bit... greedy.”
“What do you mean by greedy?” Sephy chimed in, sensing the shift in the conversation. Maeve paused, a look of worry crossing her face.
A minute later, I had been given a note, asking if Sephy knew a particular secret of mine. With a sinking sensation, I let Maeve know that she did. I now had a much better sense of what the problem might be, and if I was right, I’d need every ally I could get.
Maeve took a deep breath and began to explain, starting from when she and Pel were first informed of my survival. The knight wanted to set the scene and provide context for the problem to come.
----------------------------------------
It was a few minutes later when Maeve finished, and we sat in awkward silence.
“So you want my babies?”
“By the Sidhe, no.” Maeve flushed.
“Wait, if this is the situation, why did you involve Sephy? Tell me you don’t want our babies?” I pressed on. In the corner of my eye, I caught Sephy suppress a smile.
“I don’t want any babies from anywhere!” Maeve slumped back in her seat. “It’s my grandmother.”
“SHE WANTS MY BABIES?”
“By the Sidhe. Stop saying babies!” At Maeve’s outburst, Sephy collapsed into a fit of laughter. I was pleased to make her laugh, but inside my stomach churned.
It had always been apparent to me that if the Harkleys knew about my bloodline, they would’ve treated me like a prime stud. A sire to be rented out to whoever could pay the right price. A horrid existence, made all the worse as it exposed the truth of my birth. I wouldn’t even warrant the scant protection their name offered me, leaving me as no more than a sex slave to debauched cultists.
I’d rather bed one of the Unseelie than live a life like that.
Avoiding that fate had lulled me into a false sense of security. With so few aware of my heritage and my trust in them absolute, it had been just another secret to keep.
How did she even know? I thought back and cursed. That fucking crow!
What I’d taken for over-eager carrion, waiting to munch on my eyeballs and tongue—the favoured delicacies of such creatures—was likely a spy. I’d taken the rumours of the creatures being able to spy for the family as just that, but it was the only thing to witness my resurrection.
While I puzzled that out, Sephy was gathering herself as Maeve glared at her.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Very funny. Here I am, trying to help.”
“I don’t think we need help in that department, thank you,” Sephy said, and I felt myself crack a smile despite the situation. Maeve was now glaring at both of us, the spiritual sensation of a blade rattling in its sheath making its return.
“We’re sorry—or at least I’m sorry. I do appreciate your warning, but how else am I going to stay sane if I don’t make a bit of fun out of this?” I asked, and she relented a little.
“Look, my grandmother wants to work your lineage into our house. Trying to explain that your interest is entirely focused elsewhere,” she shot a look at Sephy, who preened, “didn’t sway her. She’ll cool down on it soon, but right now the war is taxing her patience. She’s normally better at looking at things in the long term.”
“But in the short term, we have to deal with her trying to woo Taliesin. And since I’m here, and your governess reminded me to let my family know of my location, she considers me an obstacle to be removed?” Sephy leant over the small table, placing her chin in her hands.
I felt an aura rise up in response, the taste of iron filling my mouth like I was licking blood off an iron nail. Maeve’s rattling blade was quashed as Sephy’s aura made itself known.
Had this been going on all the time when I’d been Wood or Bronze? A whole extra dimension to our interactions I’d been unaware of?
“I would like to assume she wouldn’t take action against a house we have good relations with, but…”
“She’s an ancient monster. Who knows what she might do,” I supplied and got a nod in return.
“Do I need to explain how poorly my future relations with the Chox would be if that came to pass?” I growled.
“No. Look, I’m trying to help. I owe you my life. Your insights helped my cultivation. I’m not pleased about being put in this situation.” She groaned. “I’m still new to this skulduggery that you both seem so adept at, which is why I asked both of you to be here so we could work it out together.”
“You are being awfully quick to thwart your grandmother, though.”
“The Chox owe Taliesin a great debt. Ignoring that what she plans is just plain wrong, repaying that debt with betrayal is unacceptable. It would be an unacceptable stain on our honour,” Maeve’s voice was razor-sharp, her eyes boring into Sephy, who didn’t flinch. “I am following her directive—‘do what is best for the house’—even if she doesn’t see that right now.”
“And until she does?”
“I have an idea that I hope we could refine together.” Her sharp gaze dulled, the focus lost as Maeve fidgeted in place. “I suggest we fake a relationship.”
“And what, pretend I’ve just forgotten about Sephy?”
“Nobody would believe that.” Maeve brushed aside my question. Her faith in our relationship somewhat endeared her to me and quelled some of my anger. She was the messenger in this situation, and I shouldn’t forget it. Sephy, on the other hand, was, if anything, more agitated than before.
“So, which of us are you suggesting be relegated to mistress then?” Sephy asked, murder in her eyes.
“Not that either,” Maeve responded, struggling for words.
Sephy leant back, examining Maeve carefully. “Hmm. Those exotic arrangements don’t interest me. Besides, you’re not my type.”
There was a squawk from Maeve as her face flushed. “No, not that! I mean like a love triangle, like in fables and such. Two women who pine after the same man.”
“What interesting fables you read, Lady Maeve,” Sephy answered, but much of the venom was gone as the plan was finally laid out.
“Why are you being so difficult? I am trying to help!” Maeve’s voice had a whine to it—not one of petulance, but that of a blade being honed upon a whetstone. We seemed moments away from a fight.
“I feel this little exchange highlights a flaw in the plan. How do we explain how you haven’t murdered me or each other for this rakish behaviour?” I asked. Both women froze, nearly out of their seats, the air thick with tension and their auras clashing, a cacophony of sensation.
“We have a bit more control than that.” Sephy flapped her hand dismissively. Sitting back, the tension eased by a small margin, but I pressed on.
“Really? I know that look. It’s the same expression you had before you stabbed Richard Rhoddersly.”
“He kept insisting everyone call him Rod! Honestly, it’s overcompensating when your first name is already Dick! Besides, trying to get that girl to say it was out of line.” Sephy’s ire flickered over to me, her amber eyes pinning me in place.
“Oh! Is that why he stopped insisting on that stupid nickname?” Maeve’s genuine interest burst the bubble of tension that had been building. The auras spilling off the two of them went from clashing discord to a melodic hum.
“Pleased to be of service,” Sephy gave her a small bow.
Maeve found her voice again, now less strained but tired. “He has a point. Neither of us is some meek damsel pining over some distant love. I just don’t know how else to fix this.”
“I assume just asking her again to stay out of it, or involving Pel, is out of the question,” I offered.
She shook her head. “Unless you want to be stuck as a prisoner here for however long this takes to blow over? I know her enough to say if she feels like she’s being blocked, she’ll only get more stubborn. If she feels like there’s a chance of success, she’ll actually start thinking it over.”
“Well, that’s out. I’m not keen on being put back into a cage so soon.” I sighed. Even if the Artoss estate was incomparable to the Harkley Hall, it would still feel like a prison.
“I’m sure we can think of something. Look, it’s better than the alternative of having my grandmother throwing random women at you.”
“How is this my life?” I slumped in my seat, trying to work out where I’d gone wrong. I wasn’t so cocky as to believe I’d escaped the machinations of powers far beyond me. Yet, even in my wildest imaginings, I’d never pictured the threat being devious women looking to farm my wild oats.
We talked about it for a while, as it became increasingly clear we’d have to find some way to make this work. Other ideas were floated, but nothing quite worked. The challenge was that Maeve couldn’t lie to her grandmother and the solution also had be something that her Governess could at least play dumb about.
That left us with this contractual love triange. Something that could be reported on by others and allow Maeve to at least say she was making some sort of progress. In her own words, ‘ I need to be confident that this is the best chance we’ll get of achieving her objective.’
Maeve saw this as the truth. Even if there was no chance of it happening, it was better than causing a rift where I’d be actively working against the Chox plans.
I begrudgingly accepted the situation, with the intention of finding a new solution as soon as possible. Sephy took a while to come around, only signing on after she began to speak about all the ways to keep it secret. If there was one thing the future spymistress loved, it was a good secret.
An hour later, we had an agreement. It was utterly unromantic and structured far more like a contract than a relationship. The core tenets were that, publicly, I was to act in a way that allowed Maeve to be seen as a viable competitor for my heart. Mostly that required Sephy and me to tone things down, and for Maeve and I to spend at least a little time together.
There was quite a list of things Maeve was to not do. Male pride is a funny thing. Even though I lacked any interest, I still felt it take a slight blow as she merrily agreed to it. No matter my lack of interest, it wasn’t pleasant to see the absence of hers so bluntly stated. That was quickly forgotten as my chest swelled when Sephy didn’t bother with binding me to the same rules, her trust in me complete.
“Well then, I should go smooth things over with my governess and prepare for our ‘date’ tomorrow.” Maeve seemed about to ask something, but a look flashed between her and Sephy, and she just nodded. “See you both tomorrow.”
Maeve bowed, and then left us, walking swiftly and almost slamming the door behind her. I was about to call out about her rudeness when Sephy spun to stand before me. A dangerous glint was in her eye.
“Sephy?”
“This is not how I imagined any talk between us to go this evening.”
“I don’t like it either, and I’m…” Before I could apologise, she kissed me quickly on the lips, silencing me. She pulled back, admiring my flustered face.
“Don’t apologise. I fell for a man who was in a far worse situation, a situation I fully intended to drag him out of. This is less dire, and far more amusing.” She gave me a bittersweet smile.
“You were the only part of that life I ever intended to bring into this one. No flames could make me forget you, and even as I tried to keep my expectations low, to not let hope blossom in my chest as to what we could be. It was a vain hope, you are far too enchanting.” I held up a hand and stroked her cheek. She nuzzled into it, red hair falling in a cascade over her face.
From behind the curtain of hair, Sephy spoke quietly, “This little plot is nothing but a hedge to be vaulted, a small obstacle when others have seemed so insurmountable. I cannot promise I won’t be jealous or frustrated by it, but know I do not doubt you. That I have faith in us. There is no oath worth speaking, no contract’s ink has more value than how I feel in your company. How I feel when I do this.” She leant forward and kissed me passionately.
The awkward drudgery of the last hour was blasted away by her words and actions. I felt my hearth burn, my cultivation resonating with the chaotic beauty of the mad situation. That was nothing compared to how my heart pounded, a drumbeat that filled my chest and ears.
With one hand, I grabbed her waist, pulling her close, and the other hand ran up the back of her neck before I wove my fingers into her scarlet tresses. Kissing her full, red lips, our breath came quickly. I tried to find some words, a response to her testament, but I was both figuratively and physically tongue-tied.
As our lips parted, I found the words I needed. “I am yours.”
“I know.” She smiled and pushed me backwards. I stumbled and fell into a chair. There was the sound of fabric rustling and the feel of glamour when something was put in a storage ring. I had a split second to drink up the intoxicating vision that was the goddess before me. The curves and the muscles beneath, that had for so long been constrained by bodice or breastplate were better than I could've ever imagined. Then she leapt upon me.
----------------------------------------
“Percy, are you up here?” A polite, refined voice, muffled by a door, drew both of our attention. Quite the achievement given our current state.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Sephy growled between deep breaths. Our sweaty bodies pressed together, staying still as we both watched the door. I was thankful that, in an earlier moment of clarity, years of paranoia had driven me to use some ash to push the bolt across.
“Hello?” The prince’s voice continued. He then began knocking firmly on the door, as if we’d somehow missed him before now.
“Maybe he’ll leave?” I hissed, whispering despite our recent and vigorous testing of the limits of the privacy ward.
We held our breath. There was silence. Then he began to rattle the door knob like it owed him money.
“If Bors is to be believed, the door will spring open at the worst possible time, or he’ll find a key under a mat or something,” Sephy groaned, leaning into my shoulder. "I have never so swiftly regret binding myself to a secret."
“Is nowhere safe and discrete? I know! I spotted a nice glade in the forest yesterday.” I winced hearing how that sounded. “Sorry, that—”
“What are you apologising for?” She ran a finger down my chest, her voice husky, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on, take me away and ravish me in your forest glade! There’s an easy way down the side of the building.”
“Should I be worried about how into this you are?” I asked, picking her up in my arms, marvelling at the way things jiggled.
“Only if you plan to stop.” She replied, kissing me as I threw a cloak of ash up to hide our naked bodies from the pale gaze of the moon. Cultivator strength and pure, unbridled lust made me ignore the dizzying height as I stepped out the window onto the parapet and started on my way down.
I began to chuckle as I compared this moment to my last hasty exit through a window. I also decided that this time, I certainly wouldn’t be stopping to help any pursuers.