“Princess,” an unfamiliar voice pulled Azura for a deep slumber.
In fact, she was so submerged within it, that she began to convince herself that the sound was merely part of her dream, and decided that she would ignore it entirely. Resisting it as it attempted to tug her from the realm of sleep by shutting her eyes tighter, and releasing a defiant grunt in response that she was certain would send the unknown intruder away. She wanted to remain in that scape of scattered segments for just a few more minutes, but it was already fading from her mind as she began to – unfortunately – rouse to consciousness.
The voice appeared to belong to a woman, which was less cause for alarm, but still a woman she did not know.
Still a stranger in her room that had arrived as she slept.
It was then Azura realized that her chest was bare, and that her blanket rested halfway up her abdomen... So, she suddenly became very alert, and tried to pull it upward to cover herself, but its ascent and the sanctuary it would provide was swiftly stopped by an unexpected resistance.
The blanket was then tugged roughly and completely off of her body.
Nope.
She didn’t like that.
“What the fu-”
“You must be bathed and dressed, Queen Shatrina wishes to speak to you privately, and you must be made presentable by her standard.” Feminine, and perhaps lovely if it had not just disturbed the best sleep she'd had in months, the sound of the voice cut the once quiet space that was her room harshly. It had never really felt private, her room. It had never really felt like it was truly her own, nothing in the palace did. However, the fact that others had the capability to disturb her whenever they wished, was just an added layer that solidified those feelings.
It was awful.
Being without a true home.
Azura was finally coming to properly, and she was quickly realizing that it was not just one woman in her room, but three of them. As royalty, she was entitled to a household of her own. as well as guards who had sworn a vow to her. Although her true status demanded something greater and more extravagant than the trio before her, this would simply have to do for now. While the Romadis family wanted the benefit of being the one that aided her rise to her destiny as Domina, if it was indeed her destiny, they would not overdo it.
For if she failed?
They did not intend to look like fools.
“I can bathe mysel-”
“No, you can not,” the oldest of the three women stated rigidly. She was the one who had spoken before. In fact, she was the only one speaking, and what Azura believed to be the ‘leader’ of their triad. “Drink this,” she turned toward the younger woman at her right, and took the cup of tea she had been holding from her grip.
Slowly, Azura began pushing herself upward by her elbows, but her legs remained crossed in an attempt to shield what parts of herself that she was able to. There was a loud layer of awkwardness to her movements, but there always was. This time, however, it was due to the fact that she was completely exposed in front of three strangers.
Unfortunately, royalty had little to no privacy.
Nasira had remarked once that even private moments were not truly private, and Azura was beginning to truly understand her words. Often, their intimacy would be disrupted by an audience. Whether it was onlooking courtiers, or a few guards who were instructed never to leave the side of those they serve regardless of the circumstances.
To think that privacy would now be a rare commodity was a startling thought to consider.
The differences between Azura’s world and this one became progressively apparent with each passing day.
While she had always known that there were differences, she was beginning to feel as though she had been more blissfully ignorant than she could have previously comprehended. Now, it felt as though the gap between slummer and noble was so great, that this life was entirely a mystery to someone like Azura. There were movies about them that showed glimpses, and things that could be read that might minimally inform the curious, but the modern royal was an enigma to those who were not royal themselves.
And perhaps it was better that way.
“What is it?” Azura asked with a stiffened tone and a general air of suspicion. Her eyes were pinched into a slight narrow as her posture became stiff - guarded.
This was, undoubtedly, uncomfortable.
“It is meant to prevent pregnancy, your Grace,” she said pointedly. "If you do not believe it necessary, then do not drink iit... But if you do...," her words trailed off as she allowed Azura to finished the statement for herself. While there was no inflection that implied she was being judged, Azura certainly felt that way regardless. “I am Ayabel, the leader of your household,” her introduction was paired with a bold step forward. “Drink,” she commanded gently.
Azura was mortified.
Frozen in a staggering sense of embarrassment that she was desperately trying to conceal as it eased its way onto her expression. Regrettably, she was quite possibly the worst at hiding how she felt from her features. So, as she drowned in an overwhelming sea of chagrin, her eyes widened, her lips flattened into a tight line, and her face lost a shade of its natural pinks as it lingered closer to truly pale.
Gods help me.
This meant that at least Queen Shatrina knew she had spent the previous night with Cyrus. While Azura was clearly out of her depth in many respects, she wasn’t an idiot, and she had to wonder how this information could be used against her at a later date.
As she was sure it could be.
Still, Azura took the tea as it was offered to her, and hesitantly brought it to her lips for a healthy swig of the bitter liquid. Pregnancy prevention was not something that only the royals had access to. In the slums, you would venture to your local alchemist and were given a small vial for a hefty price that would ensure all your problems would soon go away. It tasted terrible, but it worked without fail. Given Azura had always been careful with her exploits, she had never required it, but she had gone with Sarai once years ago when she and her boyfriend had indulged in a bit too much Torpa.
There were some who thought it was barbaric. Who liked to remind others that even with alchemy and all of its advancements that there were still those who could not have children, and to take that privilege for granted made you unworthy of it.
However.
Azura did not believe she was fit to be a mother.
It was not because she did not like children, or that she did not respect the trial that was parenthood. She was just aware that she was far too broken for a tiny growing being to have to depend on her for anything – for anyone to depend on her for anything.
There was also the fact that, in her current circumstances, pregnancy would be a large hindrance.
There was also the fact that Cyrus was still largely a stranger to her, and sometimes it even seemed as though he wished to remain that way.
So, and despite the fact that some might condemn her for it, the unpleasant flavor of that tea brought a sense of relief as it washed over her tongue.
The night before she had lost herself, and while she did not regret it, she was also not quite ready to face the consequence of that recklessness. When her emotions were strong, she would be consumed by them, and often rued her impulsiveness the following day. While it was true that it could happen to anyone, it was far worse for a Xetu.
It was dangerous.
A fact that was written in the history of their great empire.
Regardless of how inhumane it may feel to rob oneself of their emotions, when one knew of all the miraculously horrible things a feral Xetu could accomplish, it was easier to understand halcynity.
It was easier to believe it was the only way.
When she was just a child, Azura had torn half the house to shreds with one of her tantrums.
It was the reason it was patched together as it was now.
It was the reason her mother had never fostered her ‘gifts’.
The women began to talk amongst themselves as Azura drank, speaking in voices so hushed she could not understand them even if she cared to try. Silently, she watched them, one wandering off to the closet, and the other disappearing into the bathing room simultaneously.
“When you are finished, bring yourself to the bathing room,” Ayabel commanded in that same gentle manner she had donned since her arrival. It was not rude, but it was clear that it was not a request either.
So, naked, increasingly embarrassed, and contemplating so many things about her life, Azura sipped the remainder of her tea slowly. She might have even been taking her time purposely as she feared what awaited her in the bathroom, but the inevitable could not be avoided for long.
Every step Azura took toward the chatter awaiting her was punctuated with a question mark. Of all that she had endured until now, even being paraded in front of the majority of Tarus nobility, this was probably on the top of the list of what had been most excruciating. While she was no stranger to a plunging neckline on occasion, or a short skirt here and there, this was not the same. There was a certain level of vulgarity about this that wasn’t really something she’d ever cared for.
Private things were meant to be private.
Unfortunately, as was previously mentioned, royalty and privacy did not go hand-and-hand.
“Come,” Ayabel greeted with a beckoning hand as she stood next to the bath. Although a slight heated vapor could be seen rising from its surface, the temperature had been tested. It was hot, but not so hot that it would burn Azura. There were also various flower petals and a mixture of oils within that smelled wonderful, and subtly began to soothe away her rising anxiety.
A nice touch, Ayabel.
With her big toe offered first, she tapped the top of the water to ensure it was not too hot, and then slipped her leg within it gently.
It felt wonderful.
The previous evening was still on her – not just the part she spent with Cyrus – and she suddenly realized how lovely it would be to wash it all away. What gave her pause, however, was the way one of the younger women approached with a sponge, and dipped it into the water she was now submerged in. Soon after, she began to glacially run it across Azura’s shoulders, and down her arm.
Well.
This was weird and maybe a little homoerotic.
“This will become routine now,” Ayabel began.
Oh, joy.
The other woman was still gone, gathering something from the closet to dress Azura in when she was properly cleaned. “Her Grace did not want to spring this life upon you all at once, but she believes it is best you should adjust to the way your life will be moving forward,” she continued as she held Azura’s gaze firmly. “Your are Dominess to the Xetus Dominion, one of the oldest in Anathema… While you were denied the privileges that come with that title for most of your life… That has changed.”
Ayabel was Xetu.
A noble that had fled as the war reached a boiling point. She was familiar with the customs of their court, and so Queen Shatrina thought there was no one better suited to teach Azura of her home. Of course, while Ayabel had arrived in search of asylum, and she had been given it, there had been several stipulations. She had been stripped of her noble titles, and she had been made to serve Queen Shatrina directly for many years.
This, serving Azura, was a reward of sorts for her display of loyalty.
Not only was she to teach her of her position, but she was meant to watch her as well.
She was the eyes of Queen Shatrina.
As she was always watching.
“So you are going to teach me?” Azura asked as she settled into the tub behind her, her arms resting on either side of its edges as she tried her best to relax. It was made a bit more difficult when the girl moved to wash her neck, but she was trying. At least she was being gentle, and seemingly mindful of Azura’s discomfort as she offered an understanding grimace of a smile.
“Yes,” Ayable replied with a stiff sigh through her nose as her posture went rigid. “And there is so much you must learn.”
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Azura was in a dress.
No, she did not hate dresses.
In the summer, a lovely sundress made her feel like an Elf of Ignisium skipping through the Lux Fields of the Spes Highlands. Their pearly flora tickling her legs as she frolicked about without a care in the whole wide world.
These dresses were very different, however.
While much had advanced throughout society, the style of nobility had maintained a splendor that was very much of an old world. It was magnificent to watch from afar, but to be subject to the hour-long process of being coated in layers of fine fabric…
Was a different story.
What if Azura had to flee?
Any potential of that would be thwarted by the bullshit wrapped around her legs and constricting her ribcage.
Regardless of its choking nature, she had to admit that it was beautiful. It was made of a deep amethyst fabric and decorated with silver embroidered details. Including a phoenix with its wings outstretched on her abdomen, curling around her to hug her waist.
A Ninki creation, she was certain.
Azura was led to a secluded courtyard by two guards after following the direction of Ayabel for some time. The palace was a lavish labyrinth, and while its walls had slowly become less foreign over the last month, it was still fairly easy to get lost. Eventually, the two younger maids were sent away, and only she and Ayabel were allowed to move further.
There were perks to being on the good side of Queen Shatrina.
Even if that side was a fickle one.
The outdoor space where she was waiting was absolutely breathtaking. It was filled with exotic flora Azura had never seen before, all of which had been imported from the tropical Athaca where Shatrina’s people came from. Amidst it all, in the center of the garden that sat behind where the Queen was perched, was an extravagant statue of the woman herself. Even carved into stone, her stare was imposing. While that might be a credit to the artist more than anything, it was in part due to Shatrina herself.
There was something that permeated her aura that was dangerous.
Something in her eyes that spoke of her soul.
And it was rotten.
Despite all her beauty and well wielded charisma, she made Azura’s skin crawl. While it was not unwarranted, and Shatrina had certainly done things in her life that could easily be deemed as morally questionable, some might argue they were necessary.
Some might argue that she was an obligatory evil.
That to be who she was, to be what she was, had been the cause of the rot inside.
That it would come for Azura too in time, as it did all those who donned a crown.
If she eventually donned one herself.
The silence grew tense as the space between the two women was closed with Azura’s approaching steps. As she met her gaze, and with difficulty, she went to open her mouth to speak. Only to remember, as Ayabel had just reminded her before they entered the area, that she could not address Queen Shatrina before she was addressed herself. Which meant that she instead sat with her mouth hanging open for an awkward moment before she closed it and cleared her throat.
Some part of Azura felt all this etiquette nonsense was only going to become increasingly annoying.
“Dominess,” Shatrina greeted with that subtle but certainly polite inauthenticity. A veil of pleasantness that projected a sense of civility that was so easily seen through. In fact, it was as if she had done it on purpose.
As if she didn’t really care if the person she spoke to was aware that she was full of shit.
Insufferable, but respectable.
“Queen Shatrina,” Azura bowed her head as she came to a stop with some distance still between them. While instinct told her to join her at the intricately sculpted golden table, the voice in her head that already sounded vaguely like Ayabel was telling her to wait once again.
Shatrina was almost impressed by her minor show of understanding of courtly manners.
It wasn’t as if she expected much from a slummer.
“Please, join me,” she gestured toward the empty seat across from her. The chair was of the same aureate make as the table, and the comfortable cushion was dressed in a vibrant orange silk.
It was quite possibly one of the most comfortable things Azura’s ass had ever sat upon.
She took a moment to adjust in her seat, and even went through the effort of crossing her legs. Which was not easy to do in that dress, and felt terribly unnatural given her typical stance was some open-legged manner that might just make Shatrina convulse in disgust.
“I would apologize for taking so long to ask you to speak to me privately… But if I am to be honest?” Shatrina’s eyes dropped to her tea as she gripped the impossibly small handle delicately, and even raised her pinky topped with a perfectly manicured nail as she brought it to her lips.
Now Azura wanted to convulse.
“Well I was not certain you would last very long here,” she said with a chuckle that bordered on mocking – or perhaps it had actually ventured there. “It is not meant to be an insult to you personally, Dominess… It is just, well… This court is not for the faint of heart, and I would know that more than most,” her sentence was punctuated with a sigh that rose from her chest arrogantly. Somehow, the blunt edges of her ego were smoothed away by the velveteen nature of her accent as it adhered to the surface. It was beautiful, rhythmic, and undeniably pleasant to the ear. When she spoke it was as if she might break out into song and lull you to sleep like a siren with all of her exotic rolling syllables.
“You see I was never meant to be Queen of Anagénn. I was meant to marry an Athacan noble, and rule over a substantial household… But not an entire kingdom,” her lips bloomed into a hardly contained smug smirk as she shared her once intended future. .
While it was admirable, Azura had never known that level of ambition. She had always wanted more, of course. To have just enough to move beyond the struggle her family had always known, but not that much. Castles, courts, and all that came with it was a daunting ideal to her, not an enticing one. Even as a girl, she could not recall a day she spent dreaming of a prince that would sweep her off of her feet, or a future in his great palace as his queen.
So what was she doing here?
What an excellent question.
“But… I have never allowed expectation to limit my ambition, and it seems perhaps you and I might just share that characteristic… If the last month is to be used as evidence,” Shatrina watched Azura thoughtfully for a moment as it appeared she was almost offering a compliment.
Oh how fucking wrong she was.
It was then that Azura noticed that er eyes were a similar amber shade to her son’s, but they lacked the softness hidden beneath all of his overbearing princely masculinity. There was a sharpness to them instead. As if they were a honeyed pool of poison that could perhaps lure someone into its depths despite knowing the swim might just be their end. A characteristic she had given to her daughter despite the difference in her iris’ shade, and who might just wield it with greater efficiency when she was her mother’s age.
A terrifying thought.
“Tell me, how have you enjoyed your time here?” Shatrina inquired with moderate interest. It seemed that she might have cared for what they answer would be, but she she was probably just being polited.
Admittedly, Azura couldn’t understand why everyone around her kept asking that damned question.
Could they not tell she was flopping around like a fish who had accidentally flipped too far from the embrace of the water?
“Well, I…,” Azura’s gaze dropped to her own tea as an attendant approached to fill her cup. She was a beautiful young woman with delicate bones who performed the simple gesture with the grace of a dancer. The ever observant Azura couldn’t help but notice the minor details of those occupying the palace. She admired the way they carried themselves as well as the way they spoke, and how it was so often a work of art in motion. “I-,” she began to stumble over her words again as she realized she was staring at the woman for a bit longer than she should have. Her gaze defocused as she thoughtlessly drifted into her head. A place that could often be terrifying but was certainly safer than the palace. .
“Be honest with me… It will not serve you well to lie to me, Dominess,” Shatrina stated as she reached for the intricately folded napkin in front of her, and began to unfurl it before it was placed on her lap.
There were layers to that statement.
It seemed to be a common theme for everyone she encountered in this damned palace.
Although this time, it served to be more of a warning than to conceal parts of who Shatrina was. From where Azura was sitting, it appeared the Queen of Anagénn saw no reason to hide her nature, even when it came to her unsavory parts.
Before replying, Azura took a moment to allow the attendant to finish pouring her tea, and offered a quiet thanks before she departed back to her station. She then raised the miniscule silver spoon resting to the right, gave the tea a gentle stir, and placed it on the saucer as she cleared her throat. All the while, Shatrina had reached forward to collect a golden grape from the bowl in front of her, popped it in her mother, and chewed it slowly as her scrutinous gaze remained firmly on the younger woman.
She was an infuriatingly imposing presence.
“It’s… A lot,” Azura declared bluntly as her eyes finally rose to meet Shatrina’s again. Their intensity was debilitating, but Azura wasn’t much of a fan of eye contact anyhow. So, it only added a layer of difficulty to something she hoped might become easier with time. “I’m out of my depth, and I… I honestly came here high on stress and feeling… Impulsive,” she grimaced as she continued candidly. “Even now, I’m not even sure if this isn’t a… dream,” her delivery slowed as she realized that she was perhaps being too honest. There was a constant worry of revealing too much about the fact that she was actually a mess, and that she would appear to be a housecat offering her belly to the dangerous stranger in the eyes of the royal family.
Then again?
Maybe that was exactly what she was.
Thankfully, it appeared that Shatrina did not mind the way she spoke. It seemed, as a hint of something amused tickled the corner of her heart-shaped lips, that she was far from bothered. While the way words seemed to trip and fall out of Azura’s mouth would certainly need some tuning and refinement, her tendency to be exactly who she was, and to do so unapologetically, was something that Shatrina could almost say that she admired – if she was prone to saying such things. In a place like the Tarian Court, there were far too many individuals around pretending to be something they were not – pretending to be what she wanted to see from them.
All that lack of authenticity.
It was boring after all these years.
Ironic, wasn’t it?
That she grew tired of the masks those around her wore and yet she chose a different one each day herself.
“Well,” Shatrina inhaled deeply as her gaze wandered to the garden for a moment. “Perhaps in the mind of a young girl this may seem to be a dream, but if you are to achieve obtaining your ancestral throne from your father?” Her features settled into something listless as she looked over Azura, a simmering doubt shimmering in her rusted honey iris. “This will begin to feel more like a nightmare in time,” she stated gravely, and overcast clouding over the sunset in her eyes.
It was honest, and appreciated, but it was foreboding.
To hear of the war and to be there as the blood was spilt on the battlefield were two different animals.
One of which was a monster that would linger in your shadow until you drew your last breath.
Azura had a friend who had fought at Latrenia, and when he returned, he had not reached out to anyone at all. Eventually, she’d run into him at the stalls at Central City, but there was something missing in his eyes.
It was as if she was speaking to a ghost.
Quietly, Azura fought to keep her expression level. To not allow the flutter of fear she felt in her chest to creep into her features. Which is why she turned her attention to her tea, and took a deep sip. It was much too hot, but the way it burned as it traveled its way down into her stomach was a welcome distraction as she tried to make sense of the rush of thoughts in her head.
“Why invest so much faith in me?”
The question and the earnest way it was presented surprised Shatrina, but she supposed it shouldn’t have, given the girl appeared to be forthright to a fault. For a moment, her eyes went out of focus as her lips slowly pulled into a pucker. It was a good question, but most would accept an offer to aid their rise to greatness without much thought.
Which was, in fact, what Azura had done.
Which was, in part, why Shatrina did not think much of her potential until the ball.
“It is not faith in you, Dominess… Not yet,” Shatrina replied brusquely. “What we have faith in, King Teris and I… Is that our reign will change the history of all of Anathema, and to do so? We must end these decades of fighting with Xetus and its people,” she explained as her hands came to clasp in her lap. “To conquer them? While I have faith in our armies and the commanding capabilities of my husband… To conquer an empire, a Dominion, as old as Xetus is a fool's errand… To unseat the ancient family that has been toppled once only to rise from the ashes of their own ruin reborn… We will not spill Anish blood just to see the reward for that hefty price be taken from the inside, as it inevitably would be,” her jaw had tightened as she spoke, and her conviction had grown to something magnetic.
While Azura did not yet truly grasp the depth of the politics of what she was diving headlong into, when she heard Shatrina speak…
She could not help but feel her power.
She could not help but crave it herself.
For a moment, she wondered what it might be like to sit beyond a fire and listen to the story of who she once was, and how she had become who she was now.
“You are not of Xetus. While your blood comes from those lands you have not been molded by them and their ideals… You, stand to be a chance at a future beyond the tyranny the Zulandri family had long forced its people to be subject to… You, if the gods deem it fit… Can write Anatheman history alongside the Romadis family… You can live on in glory and infamy just as we will,” Shatrina’s lips curled into a subtle smile as she beamed with pride.
It was a good sale’s pitch.
To the ambitious.
To the hero.
But Azura was none of those things.
Azura, for so long, had been content to survive.
Because at times, it had been so very hard.
“And what if I don’t want it?” Azura retorted impulsively. When the swells of anxiety began to wrap their fingers around that thumping organ in her chest she would lose that ever dwindling control on her loose lips. Despite her efforts to improve for as long as she could remember, she had only gotten worse. “What if I don’t want glory and infamy?”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Then you will fall…. And the Xetu along with you.”
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“You will train with Master Cyrus today… He is one of the few in the castle I see as a proper challenge to you,” Isana explained as she stood between them. They were out in the yard, with a fairly large court between them.
Azura had been expecting the typical arrangement where they would work alone in the secluded chamber, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t look forward to the chance to use her magic in real time.
Or to see what Cyrus was capable of.
They’d had a conversation before, but he neglected to truly use his magic around her. She did notice the way flora would perk up in his presence, but that seemed involuntary. He must be Zatrian, she had thought to herself more than once. She had heard that their leader made the earth bloom around her as she walked, and she had always wished to see it for herself.
Unfortunately, following the war with Vesshire, they had been quiet for many years. They had stopped allowing visitors, and they had already been strict. Since then, they had also neglected to summon anyone for visits to their court, or seek out potential allies. Most believed it had been to repair from the tragedies of their bloody conflict with the once great Vesshire Empire. They had hardly survived, there was a civil war as they combatted an attempted conquest, and it was scarcely left standing in the aftermath.
So, it made Azura wonder if Cyrus was a product of all of that blood. She’d never asked where he came from, even though she had wanted to. While he could be painfully honest, and he often was, he was also excruciatingly vague.
Whoever he was, he safeguarded it defensively.
“I will take it easy on you, Dominess,” Cyrus called from across the court as he wore one of those infuriating smirks that were his trademark.
Azura fought against the smile that tried to crawl across her lips, because she knew it might be too broad.
No, she didn’t like him.
The sex was just good.
“Likewise,” she replied as her grin became cocky. Azura was not arrogant, not usually. She had far too many doubts swimming in her head to allow her ego to become something obtuse. However, she still had her moments of overgrown confidence just as any fool would.
In this current moment, was it possibly unwarranted?
Oh gods, yes.
Azura was simply saving face, or trying some intimidation tactic that would bounce off of her opponent as if he were made of rubber.
Cyrus smirked back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Royalty first,” he taunted, and was silently amused by the irony of the statement that would be lost on her.
Quietly, among the rest of the observing crowd, Nasira and Oris were watching. Nasira had one of those ridiculous pairs of binoculars with the handle, and was holding them up to her face as she watched carefully. “They’re fucking,” she said bluntly, her tone bored despite the fact that she was marginally jealous.
What could the slummer offer him that she could not?
She supposed there were more repercussions to Cyrus taking her to bed than the slut parading around as if she were on a path to greatness.
A thought that would bring her the slightest measure of comfort.
“No, you don’t think?” Oris asked with an arched eyebrow. “Aside from the first night?” His gaze slipped back toward the court, and eventually landed on Azura. While Cyrus was perhaps developing feelings for her, Oris had other intentions in mind.
The intent to write history with her at his side if she proved to be capable enough.
There was an inflection of true interest in his delivery that forced Nasira to look away from her binoculars, and turn her probing gaze on her brother. “Do not tell me you’d like your shot at the Palace Bicycle?” She scoffed before she rolled her eyes at him.
“Do not be rude because you’re angry she got to Cyrus first,” he replied dismissively. “He does not want you, and he could not touch you even if he did,” Oris continued firmly. A subtle reminder of who she was, and how she needed to behave because of that fact. “If you would do more than judge people… You would be wed by now-”
“Excuse me,” Nasira’s eyebrows narrowed as she stepped toward her brother, and tightened her jaw. “How dare yo-”
“Nasira… Father’s health worsens each day… When I rule these lands, I will find you a husband, and you will marry him… You will attend to your obligation as a Princess of Anagénn-”
“What is your problem?” Nasira hissed, but took a step backward to put space between herself and Oris. It was then that she realized that someone else had eaten all of her brother’s patience already, and now he was just misplacing his aggravation.
He was a terrible little monster just as much as she was.
Oris sighed heavily, turning away from his sister. He watched Isana recite the rules of dueling, but he did not care, it was simply a means to fill the silence as he gathered his thoughts and what was left of his patience. “I cannot stand my own betrothed… She intends to remain here for a while following the ball, and I think I may just go mad… To think that she will be at my side for a lifetime? That we will have children together…,” Oris trailed off as something a true simmer of sadness lived under his tone. It was rare from him, he was often optimistic unlike Nasira, and so for a moment, she truly felt remorse for her brother.
They had been raised by two individuals who were deeply in love, and while he would not admit it aloud, or he was perhaps not even aware of it, Oris wanted the same for himself.
No one would expect, he least of all, that it had turned him into quite the romantic.
“In truth? I envy the freedom you have,” he admitted as he continued. “Why am I not free to choose? If I must be shackled to this woman for all of my life… I will lose my mind, she will, or she will die… Or perhaps a mixture of all three,” Oris scoffed, an attempt to cover up the true display of his emotions with a short laugh. “Our father married for love… Why must I pay for his freedoms? Now it is ever prevalent that we appease the highest bidder with the greatest army,” he grumbled as he shook his head.
Nasira had been watching her brother for some time now with a craned neck. There was a thought to be sensitive to what he was going through, and to perhaps even console him, but it was not the typical manner of their dynamic. It was their mother’s job to comfort him, and she was certainly not their mother. “That was terribly misandrist of you, brother,” she tittered. “Do you just want to fuck the slummer, or is it truly your betrothed?”
Oris creased his eyebrows as he considered his response - another rarity for him. Usually, he simply opened his mouth and released the first thought that crossed his mind. At times, it could be profound, but more often it was not. “Both,” he said honestly as he returned his attention to the duel. “A bit of both.”
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“The object is not to draw blood, but to draw it is not against the rules. The object, is to make your opponent submit… If they do not, manslaughter is not a disqualification… However… Do not kill one another,” Isana said bluntly.
In a real duel, that was not part of the rules.
Generally, due to the volatile nature of magic, death could happen in a simple session of practice.
There were so many instances that it had been implemented in the Anathema Combat Enactment that if a duel was declared, then no one could face criminal charges if it did in fact end in death.
Then people began simply challenging a duel and murdering others, so amendments have been made over the years.
“Now… You may begin,” Isana stepped backward now. Cyrus had taunted Azura to start, but she had been stopped just as she took one bold step forward.
She was calling upon all the things he’d done just to get under her skin, and she found herself wanting to explore the gateway she unlocked at the ball. So when Isana gave her the greenlight, she closed her eyes.
I call upon the Spirits of the Earth.
Again the ground cracked open, and as he remained calm Cyrus watched as a hand erupted from the floor.
It was certainly creative.
While his hands slid into his pockets, vine that bloomed with leaves began to ascend from the crack in the floor. As it moved forward like a snake venturing out from a hole it had chosen to slumber within, it blossomed into the formation of a hand, one that was positioned in a cutting motion…
“What?” Azura laughed to herself as she shook her head.
“Scissor beats paper, Dominess!” Cyrus hollered to her before he let out a laugh. The laugh was echoed by the growing crowd that had come to observe the rare display of magic.
The amusement turned into an excited rumble where the flora hand bled onto the one made from the earth, and slowly began to coat it entirely in lush greenery. It then began to plant roots within the ground, more and more of them manifesting until Azura could no longer move the hand at all.
Alright.
That wasn’t bad.
Then Azura pulled even harder from the Igi, she plunged into its waters and a stone forged being began to climb from that crack now in the center of the court. It burst through the vines crudely, and Cyrus’ lips settled into a firmer line.
Alright.
Not bad.
Gradually, and with a slight tremble manifested beneath the court, the golem pulled itself up, and stood several feet above even the tallest courtier in sight. The response was an eruption of cheers from onlookers. Behind the creature, Azura slammed her fist against her open palm, and it mimicked the gesture. While she had tried to remain solemn and threatening, she could not help but laugh at herself immediately afterward. As impressive as it was, she always had struggled with taking herself too seriously, and some part of her hoped it might never change.
Cyrus was quietly stunned as he looked up toward the empty eyes of Azura’s creation. Beyond her aesthetic display at the ball, and the way she defended herself against her father’s supporter, he had not seen much of her capabilities. In reality, he had almost forgotten it was the true reason she was here.
The potential of her power.
At one point or another, he had learned some things about himself from Isana, and he should have expected nothing short of brilliance if she was teaching Azura.
Still, he could not go down without a fight.
So, nonchalantly, he removed his hand from his pocket, and reached toward the Golem with his palm outward. In a few moments, it shattered in a miraculous explosion of dirt, forcing the audience to shield their faces as their excitement increased even further. Even Azura raised an arm to shield her eyes as she looked away from it, and a twinge of aggravation fluttered in her stomach.
Perhaps he was not Zatrian, she thought to herself. As far as she was aware, their power did not extend beyond flora and healing…
Still, as she pondered the notion, something far more prevalent was distracting her.
She would not go down without a fight.
This time there were no words recited in her head, or search for the call of the Corum or her ancestors in the Igi. There was only the pull on something deep within herself as that scattered rock began to float glacially. Then, in a sudden burst of energy, they were forced together as if by some magnetic pull. However this time, while the debris did reform into the singular Golem, two more crawled from within the earth, boasting eyes that matched the vibrant aureate hue of Azura’s. In the midst of it all, that resplendent shade had bled across her features as it always had, but the space it occupied had increased. Isana had noticed that the more she extended her power, the further it would crawl over her form.
The more she resembled Sthyle.
It wasn’t until the wind picked up did she step forward, as she had quietly decided that Azura was not yet in control enough for public display. While a subtle breeze wouldn’t have been hazardous, the speed was picking up rapidly, and those in the audience who wore them were left to hang onto their hats. Some had even begun to depart as they did not expect the change in weather was the result of Azura’s power, but a precursor to rain. Others, those who knew it was her, were left unsettled. While magic was a marvel when it was displayed poetically, due to all the suffering it had brought over the centuries when wielded by the wrong hands, it also brought a sense of fear.
Cyrus, was suspended in awe as he watched the world around them bend to Azura’s will, and was only pulled from his astonishment as Isana summoned an Oku. Oku, were the runes of the Pangoku people that were used to summon their magic. Isana, was a master of them, and it was displayed in the way it morphed into a dragon that dismantled the three towering Golems as it slithered through the air.
“That is enough for today,” Isana said calmly.
----------------------------------------
“Why are you magic?” Azura inquired.
Over the last month, she had seen tiny glimpse into what he was capable of, but none of it had compared to their earlier duel. She was admittedly impressed, and fascinated. While her mother was magic, and she had used it on occasion throughout the years, it did not compare to Cyrus masterful manipulation of flora. Nor did any of the halfblood Magi she had encountered around the city. Due to the nature of his power, she had some idea of what he might be, but she didn’t want to make assumptions, not unless she had to. Given his tendency to dodge questions about himself, and mask his dismissiveness with humor, there was some part of her that felt assumptions would be all that she would have.
Still, the optimist in her could not help but feel, even when he was dejected and secretive, that there was something in him that wanted to be open.
That he wanted to share.
Gods.
Here she was again.
Chasing the emotionally unavailable.
At least this time it wasn’t for love.
Expectedly, Cyrus did not immediately answer. As he contemplated if he would, he only smirked quietly to himself. There was this air about him as if he was in on some joke that no one else was, and that he had absolutely no intention of telling it to those around him either. In reality, it was anticipated that she might eventually ask questions about him if they kept spending time together, but he was a master in the art of being vague without being boring.
Generally, humans in all of the varying forms in Anathem, were led by curiosity – if it hadn’t been brainwashed into submission. Alas, Cyrus was forbidden to share the details of who he was. That was why, much like her, he did not get close to people. While it could be terribly lonely, it was the only sure way to prevent complexities — or prevent more of them.
“Why does anyone?” Cyrus replied cryptically, his delivery teasingly philosophical as he released a thoughtful sigh. .
Azura rolled her eyes and let out her own loud sigh in response. It was fine, in the beginning. When he was a tall, dark, and mysterious stranger at the party where they had met, A month later, after countless conversations that varied from steamy to esoteric, the growing list of unanswered questions were beginning to annoy her. While it could be blamed on her stubbornness, it was largely the fault of an insatiable thirst for knowledge. When something intrigued her, Azura became hungry for all the many details the source of her interest was comprised of.
For the moment, Cyrus was the source of her interest.
Not simply because she was attracted to him, but because she could see a story written in the depths of his emerald eyes, and she wanted to read it. While she had expected courtiers were shallow beings, she was discovering that many of them had a tale that they often would not – could not – share.
Which made Azura want to know it all the more.
“I will ask around… Someone will tell me, eventually,” she said as she turned away from him, and sighed once again. This one was much louder – much more dramatic.
She could be so theatrical when she wanted to be.
“Oh gods, she’s gone bratty so quickly,” he chuckled as he rolled his eyes.
“It is my natural state of being,” Azura retorted flagrantly. “Your mistake was believing I would ever stop,” she tittered at her own audaciousness.
Cyrus could not help but laugh again as he shook his head in an amused sort of disapproval. He appreciated when her tendency to deprecate herself laced with her own variation of shamelessness. It was uncommon that anyone would own the worst part of themselves so openly, and she screamed about them effortlessly.
Often he wondered if it was on purpose, or if she was entirely unaware. He firmly believed she was not unaware that she was a mess, that much was evident to the blind man. Then again so was he, and so were most people in some way or another.
“I am part Zatrian,” he explained after a long silence. It was vague, and only the tip of the iceberg of his true origins, but it would feed her enough to hold her over for a little while longer.
The unexpected revelation brought a perk to Azrua’s eyebrow and her posture, and while a million questions formulated in response, she took a moment to process them before she said another word. “Have-”
Cyrus raised a finger at her as soon as she began to speak, and then gently pressed it over his own lips prior to their parting. “I’ve never been there… I don’t know my family, or much at all about where I’ve come from… I have been here for as long as I can remember… I only know that I am Zatrian, before you begin asking a million questions about it all,” he continued with a lopsided grin to convey that he was not annoyed by her interest despite cutting it short.
While it did not answer all of her questions, she took note of the anticipated dismissiveness of his response and instead thought it best not to probe any further – not yet. This was at least a step in the right direction in terms of learning more about who he truly was, and she didn’t expect the road ahead would be an easy one to travel.
So, for the moment, she took the small victory as one point for Azura.
“I heard wonderful things about them at the academy. Their culture and their people are fascinating… I always wanted to visit one day… I heard it’s a paradise, but that their queen locked it all away for… decades,” Azura watched him carefully as she shared what she knew of his people. They all heard of the war due to the part Anagénn played in the aftermath, and she remembered during that time she had done a lot of her own research on Zatria. Unfortunately, public bibliotheca’s were limited in regards to tomes on the other civilizations of Anathema, and it had always saddened Azura. While she was not the most studious of students, she had a deep love for history and ancient cultures.
Cyrus stiffened slightly in response, but what it meant was a mystery to Azura. Something she would over analyze in her thoughts later that night before she drifted off into the subconscious. There was no real compulsion to share more with her, it would only complicate things.
Or, at least that was what he was telling himself to smother the part of him that had considered answering in a way she might prefer.
It was not simply the fact that she was attractive, or that they had slept together, it was the fact that for the first time in perhaps all of his life, he felt that he had finally encountered someone who might just understand all that he had felt for all these years.
Still, she did not need more on his her overflowing plate to digest.
Things were best as they were between them.
“I don’t blame her… If the rest of Anathema is anything like this? I’d lock myself away from it all in my own paradise if I had one,” he replied listlessly. The evaporation of his carefree cadence was noted by Azura, but just about everything was. She also observed the way his gaze turned toward the horizon, and the subsequent manner in which it defocused – drifting far away into his own thoughts.
Thoughts she found herself increasingly curious about.
Cyrus had come across Azura studying roughly one hour ago, as she typically was here at this time of day. While sometimes he did seek her out, this time it was a mere coincidence. That much was obvious given the book on the history of Teht that had once been in his grasp, but was now left to sit on a nearby stone bench. If he had been Oris, she might have assumed it was an attempt to cover up his true intentions, but Cyrus had a tendency to be forthright about what he wanted.
At least when it came to her, anyway.
“You don’t like it here, do you?” Azura asked thoughtfully as her eyebrows stitched together in focus. The answer was obvious, but she had been meaning to find out why for some time now. While nobility could certainly be insufferable for a long list of reasons, it seemed much deeper than that.
Why did she care?
Maybe because he was the only person in this place that she felt might understand her. The only one that felt anything like the people she had left back home. He felt real. It felt as if he wasn’t putting on some front for her when they spoke like this, and it was refreshing as she was drowning in a sea of those who felt as though their every word may just be a lie.
Initially, Cyrus wanted to say something along the lines of:
I enjoy it as much as a prisoner does a lavishly decorated cell.
However, he thought better of it. It was too close to the truth, and he feared Azura putting the pieces together. She was smarter than most in the palace would give her credit for, and he feared her learning what he truly was.
Even if he wasn’t sure why.
“You grow tired of it, after a time… If you are not meant for it,” he admitted – a half truth. “The court and the people in it… The things they do… The way they conduct themselves,” Cyrus’ eyebrows creased as he shook his head. “At times I envy you, and the simplicity you knew for most of your life… I wonder, do you understand all that you have given up to be here?” His interest was genuine as he focused on her, and ceased speaking as he awaited her answer.
Their gazes met for a long stretch of silence as something flickered across her expression. Several things, in fact. Doubt was not new to her. It had followed her and hung over her head like a raincloud threatening to deliver torrential downpour at any moment for as long as she could remember. So, it would be of no surprise to say that she had many doubts about where she found herself, not to anyone who knew her.
However.
There was something in her soul that was telling her, for once, that she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Maybe it was a delusion.
Maybe it was the fact that she had been given purpose after searching for it and requiring it for so many years.
Maybe she would go out in a blaze of glory and no one would ever remember her name.
Whatever it was?
It was better than her joke of existence before she had arrived here.
“It wasn’t anything to envy… What I gave up,” she finally responded, but her voice was weighted with emotion now.
In some respects, that might be true, but not all of them.
The unconditional love of her family who were hoping for her return each day was certainly something to envy. Especially in the mind of Cyrus, who had never known such a thing. Even if he was not sure of what the emotions were that had forced her voice to waver, he was indeed aware that they were there. Alas, he did not have the same instinct to pry open the minds of others that Azura did. So he simply noticed it, and moved on.
“The grass is always greener though… and all that,” Azura tried to smile, and she did, but it was weak.
Now there was some curiosity in Cyrus, but not enough to hold his tongue and will it to speak it aloud. Given he preferred others did not poke at him for information, he had a tendency to offer the same respect. Often, there was little care to pry as most were fairly uninteresting, which made it all very easy. Unfortunately, things were different with Azura – things were far from uninteresting.
Thankfully, unlike himself, she had a tendency to overshare the more comfortable she became with him.
So his questions would be answered if he simply listened.
“It’s not the grass, it’s the soil… Regrettably, they’ve used shit to fertilize it, and it shows,” Cyrus laughed after another pause. He was attempting to lighten the mood, but he had a point.
You could smell the shit on a fair amount of the nobility as soon as they opened their mouths despite all the perfumes they wore.
It was ingrained in their roots.
In their blood.
Azura laughed too, shook her head again, and fell silent as her mirth lingered on her lips. Then, idly, she began walking her fingers along the bannister as she lost herself in her thoughts – a place she often lived despite how dangerous it was.
“About last night…,” Cyrus began, cutting the quiet with an unexpected redirection of the conversation.
Fuck.
And they had been having such a pleasant conversation as they avoided the topic entirely…
It wasn’t that it was awkward, or that she regretted it.
It was just…
“If I was too forward, I wanted to apologize-”
“Hmm?” Azura’s head snapped toward Cryus’ direction as her eyebrows shot upward. Although he was meeting her eyes, there was something sheepish in his gaze that didn’t suit him - that he’d never worn around her before.
“I arrived at your room unannounced and came on fairly strong, Azura,” he laughed as his confidence quickly resurfaced. That was when it became evident that he was not embarrassed, but being considerate.
That he was being… respectful.
While it was not necessarily uncommon or unnatural for a man, it was surprising from this man. Given how they had met, and how he had brought her back to his apartment with relative ease, she had placed the label of ‘womanizer’ on him.
A label that was perhaps not entirely incorrect.
A label had begun to wear off over the last month whether she realized it or not.
“And at what point did it seem like I wanted you to stop?” Azura countered bluntly, a laugh breaking up her words as her features warped into increasing surprise. There was a slight nervousness beneath it given they were talking rather vulgarly in a public place, but she was concealing it well. “I just… I mean it’s just sex, yeah? I didn’t see the point in making a big deal about it, so I just…”
The nervousness was winning now because she was lying.
Because it had never been just sex to her.
She had never gone home with a stranger, and she had certainly never gone back for seconds with said stranger.
It felt good.
He made her feel good.
And she saw no reason that it needed to stop.
Cyrus’ eyes widened, but then his expression softened, and his lips furled into a smile that spoke of a quiet respect. He really was begging to enjoy her company and her presence at the palace, so it was his hope that it hadn’t complicated things between them. It seemed, from where he was standing, that neither of them were looking for anything deeper than the shallowness they were wading in.
Right?
“No… It’s fine,” he put a hand in a show of surrender. “I just wanted to clear the air,” Cyrus added, calling back to his choice of words following the last time it had happened.
She appreciated how straightforward he could be, even if it was selective.
Azura paused as she thought something over, and then she turned to face him properly. Even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she had been in a very good mood all day. So, if they both knew what they wanted, and where the boundaries were…
She saw no reason why it needed to end.
“It is fine… Even if it happened again,” she said candidly as she took a step toward him.
Cyrus’ eyes narrowed on her playfully as his chin raised, and he gradually curled his fingers around the railing to his right. He then allowed the quiet to become tense, leaving Azura to stew in it as she began to silently second guess herself just before his lips eased into a smirk. “Did you just proposition me… Dominess?”
The way Azura smiled in response should have been a warning.
It should have sent her running for the hills.
Unfortunately, she was submerged in the moment, and instead she laughed as she looked away from him.
The way he watched her should have been a warming.
The way he enjoyed the sight of a smile on her should have sent him running for the hills.
Unfortunately, Cyrus truly did not know any better.
Despite how cavalier he was with women, and how he could get them out of their skirts with relative ease.
Sex was not love.
It was only part of it.
However, it is far too early in this tale to call what these two were feeling love. Or to be certain if it was the seeds of what could become love.
Only time would tell.
“Princess,” one of the younger handmaidens arrived in the doorway and bowed to Azura. Yatere was her name, if she recalled correctly. “Master Cyrus,” Yatere added as her smile became overwhelmingly shy, and her cheeks burned pink.
It was then Azura passed a glance between the two of them, and took note of the tug at the corner of Cyrus’ lips. When he wished to, he could hide his thoughts from his features impeccably. Which meant he had made a point to allow his amusement to shine through, even if it had done so subtly.
What a little shit.
“Will you be eating in the hall, or in your rooms, Princess?”
“My room,” Azura replied as an exasperated exhale broke through her delivery. “I had a long day, and I’m still tired from last night….”
Poor choice of words, Z.
Woefully, they could not be taken back, and would not be forgotten.
Next to her, Cyrus’ smile bloomed audaciously, and he very pointedly cleared his throat.
Don’t smile. Don’t smile, Don’t smile.
Azura was fighting for her life against the curve that wanted to occupy her lips, but she could feel Cyrus’ eyes on her, and she would not give him the satisfaction of a smile.
Yatere, on the other hand, could not fight the tiny grin that surfaced before her mouth opened again. “Very well, your Grace… I will have a bath drawn for you once you return from your studies,” she said before she curtsied, and departed in a manner that was too quick to be graceful. The sparks in the air surrounding the two were palpable, and she did not wish to interrupt.
Admittedly, Azura also terrified her.
Anagénn was void of public displays of magic, and its presence dwindled every year. Which meant the magnitude of Azura’s power was unlike anything so many had seen before.
“Did you fuck my handmaiden?” Azura’s right hand rose to her hip just as it jutted outward as she hurled the question at Cyrus the moment Yatere was out of earshot.
“Why do you care?” Cyrus’ arms crossed over his chest as he donned a taunting simper. His head was cocked to one side, and he was undeniably in search of a means to push Azura’s buttons.
He always was.
Azura rolled her eyes and let out another deep sigh in response as she cast her gaze upward.
Mission accomplished.
“It was once,” he laughed with a broad grin. “She got rather attached afterward… And she was terribly jealous,” his words were broken by his own sigh as he continued. “So, I would be mindful that she doesn’t poison the dinner waiting for you.”
Without a word, Azura offered Cyrus a look that asked:
Are you serious?
Her eyebrows wrinkled into a unamused single line as her upper lip twisted in a grimace of displeasure.
Although Cyrus had briefly wondered if she might be jealous, it seemed that was not the case. There were parts of him that were both relieved and disappointed, both of which he would not be addressing.
“I’m joking,” he said with yet another laugh, and this one was much louder than those that had come before. “She did seem disappointed when I denied her advances later on, but… Girls like her… They are play things for the male populace of court… I am certain she moved on quickly from me, given I cannot give her much in the way of status,” Cyrus shrugged as he looked after where she once stood.
Azura could not fight the way her nose wrinkled in an unspoken response. It was not due to Yatere’s alleged promiscuity, but more so due to the way Cyrus had phrased it all. He had been bred within a center of misogyny, after all. She supposed he was merely a product of his environment.
How disappointing.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he rolled his eyes in return as he scoffed. “It’s the hierarchy here, Princess… I would bet she’s been fantasizing about being bedded by noblemen for ages, and with hope? She will give birth to their bastard, and be set for life… She enjoys what she does, Azura, believe me,” Cyrus stepped toward her as he spoke. He had a tendency to use his height advantage to drive his point, just like when he used her name instead of some title.
Or at least it felt that way to Azura.
Annoyingly, the warm rush of his breath as he said it conflicted with her desire to be aggravated with him, and so did the way he looked down at her. Not as if she were small and insignificant, but almost as if he was… hungry.
There was some deeply feminist part of herself that wanted to slap him in his smug face, but he was probably right about Yatere.
Which only made her more angry.
Then, a gentle hand perched on the small of her back and she was pulled closer to him by the smallest of measures. Simultaneously, his lips moved to linger just beyond her own, as his green eyes analyzed her features intimately. Crudely, his gaze wandered down to her chest, and dithered on her cleavage longingly before it rose to her gaze once again. “She was not like you,” he resumed, his voice eased into an amorous murmur that gave her a chill. “I will not lie to you, I have fucked a number of women, but you…,” he trailed off and punctuated his sentence with a primal hum of a sound.
And just like that.
Azura had forgotten what she was angry about.
That was aggravating.
While she wanted to be that strong and fierce heroine who could resist the charms of man and stalwartly defend women and their virtues….
She wasn’t.
Fortunately, she retained enough of her nerve and control not to throw herself at him,
Give her some credit.
So, she simply rubbed her nose against his, and breathed a slow sigh against his lips just to tease him in return. Thankfully, she was not completely out of her depth when it came to men, even if she felt as though she was drowning in every other aspect of her current circumstances.
In response, Cyrus wanted to lift her, carry her back into the bibliotheca, and take her on a table as books fell from its surface onto the floor. He wanted to feel the softness of her lips against his just as he had the night before, and the fact that the smallest movement could give him exactly that was tantalizing thought he struggled to leave in the realm of fantasy.
However, they were not living in some live-action portrayal of a romantic fairy tale.
The reality was that they would likely be caught and the punishment that would follow was not worth it for either of them. It was one thing to slip into the privacy of Azura’s room where few would know it was him, but in the midst of the bibliotheca in broad daylight was another animal entirely.
There was also the fact that he was suddenly acutely aware that he had never remained in the company of one woman for this long, and that meant something.
Or that it was beginning to mean something.
A terrifying thought.
People didn’t typically mean anything to Cyrus. It wasn’t due to some sociopathic nature, it was just easier. Which was made easier when those he was typically surrounded by looked down on him, or were those who held him hostage.
But she was different.
She walked into this life ignorantly, and sat down in the same cage he’d been placed in since he was just an infant.
At first, it was none of his business.
Now…
“Why aren't you in Zatria?” Azura asked as she stared up at him. Despite the intimacy of the moment they were sharing, the depth of her insatiable curiosity often won out over all else.
While the inquiry was seemingly meant to be innocent, it drew Cyrus away from his thoughts with a harsh tug. Pulling on parts of him he preferred to leave buried for fear of all the feelings they may dredge up.
Feeling he did not know how to face.
Feelings he did not know how to process.
Quietly, Azura could see the way it shifted something in his eyes. She could see that change as it flickered across his verdant gaze and brought with it a wall of ice that she had thought had been slowly melting away.
She could almost feel him take several steps back even as he remained close to her.
It was a sensitive topic, obviously.
But why?
Why did he feel the need to safeguard who he was so stubbornly?
“You should return to your room,” he mumbled as his fingers sprawled out, and his hand drifted downward, threatening to grope her. “Last night was very exciting for you… I’m sure you need your rest to recover,” Cyrus had moved his head just enough to brush her lips with his before he released her, and took a step backward. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, my Dominess,” he said politely as he bowed, retrieved his book, and disappeared into the bibliotheca.
Azura never could fight the way she melted under the heat of their ever increasing sexual tension. Similarly to Cyrus, she had fantasized about what it might be like to have a repeat of the night before within the bibliotheca.
Similarly, she had also considered that she was enjoying this all too much.
That she was enjoying him too much.
A terrifying thought.
So, when he pulled away from her, she almost wanted to thank him.
Instead, she watched his back as he walked away from her, and thanked the gods for the cool embrace of the late afternoon breeze as it brought her temperature back to level.
She needed to focus, she needed to train, she needed to prepare for the future…
And he was making it so very difficult.