Prince Rasgen watched while the banquet was laid out in the great hall. Sobella was on his arm as he did so. The room was massive, it was not only the dining hall, it was the ballroom, many had been the gatherings at the place over the years. The stone walls were littered with sconces holding countless candles that would bathe the room in orange light, up above was an open ceiling that let the stars shine their blessed light down on those within. Near the far end was a set of stone steps that led to a small reserved area where the most elite guests of the Prince could dine. It had only six tables, each small enough for only three guests and the one they accompanied.
It was up there that they stood, watching the layout take place. “You don’t have to watch this, my Prince.” His demon-elf paramour wrapped her arm around him a little more tightly in spite of herself. Her throaty voice was still cracked from her earlier private grief.
“I know, I just wanted to be distracted, the invitations were sent out to all the city’s nobles, and a special dispensation was sent out to every establishment promising an immunity from the levy for the owner for one season if they let their patrons raise a glass or mug to you at no cost tonight. I’ve had the criers go out and announce… announce…” He felt his lower lip shake and his powerful legs go weaker than a crippled beggar.
Sobella drew him back so that he flopped into a side facing chair, she came with him, crouching down in front of where he’d dropped. His arms went around her back, and pressed his forehead to hers. The horns that came from the side of her head to a tip near equal to her forehead had always been a thing of erotic beauty to him. So many times she’d whispered, “Take me by the horns…” it was a favorite phrase. As he was now, he couldn’t see them. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He whispered with a voice no less cracked than her own. His hands shook as they reached out from around his back and went close to her. She grasped them into her own tender, shaking fingers.
“No… no my Prince. I believe if you could do anything… you would. But you can’t throw your people’s lives away like that… and I die a hero. This will save five hundred citizens, and it will make your reputation burn all the brighter! You’ll be the prince who gave up his beloved for the sake of saving his people… they’ll sing songs about your love for this city for a thousand years.” She swallowed and kissed away a salty tear at his cheek. “I was never bound for a happy end, but at least this is a noble one. I was a no account performing slave before I came to you, no future, no hope… just an expensive prize. But you saw more, so much more in me… and these past few years have been the best, the very best in my life. I’ll treasure them right up until the last moment. I won’t be afraid, I promise… I’ll bear Pasenian pride, your pride, in every step.” His hands dug into her back so that each of their heads hooked over the other’s shoulder. They held tight enough that it was as if he was trying to become one with her, that she would not go alone into the heart of darkness.
The preparations for the banquet were all but forgotten, they each had all the distraction they needed, up there above it all, for hours until guests began to arrive.
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Priceless hung her head in utter defeat, she still sobbed with every question she answered, but she answered them. Her hand hurt, her wrist hurt, her fingers hurt. Her jaw hurt, her arms hurt. The dull throbbing ache of the broken bones seemed to pound in time to the echoing dripping noise of the drop that was falling into a puddle out of view. ‘At least I can’t smell the foul stuff on my face anymore.’ She managed the thought before nodding in answer to a question.
“Yes… master. She got Kaiji as an advisor… someone suitable to help rule a city.” Priceless spoke sorrowfully, but in her own mind, was a constantly uttered prayer, ‘Stars… kill me. Just kill me. Make this stop…’
She felt the orc’s hand tightly grip her hair, and let out a tiny yelp as he pulled up, forcing her to face in front of herself. In the unknown man’s hand was one of the platinum coins she’d seen her mistress use. The question hit her ear and she answered truthfully. “Yes… she has hundreds of them, at least, maybe thousands.”
She felt the hand that held her hair let go, and her head hung again. ‘Kill me. Just kill me. I’m tired of this…’ How many hours had it been? She’d lost track.
“How?! Is she backed by a foreign power?!” The question was harsh and Priceless hung her head without answering.
The orc’s slap snapped her head to one side. “Should I have him do that to your Kaiji? Remember, with your Mistress absent, there’s nobody to protect her, she’ll venture out, maybe to look for you, and when she does…” His finger snapped, and Priceless darted her head up. She still saw stars when he hit her.
“No! You promised!” You promised!” She cried out and kicked her legs desperately.
“Anything you don’t answer, she will.” The gentle monster said with the voice of a comforting priest.
Priceless felt the sting in her cheek, and shook her head in denial. “No, I don’t think so. She talks about being her alone, just her servant. The stories she’s told, I… I can only guess this part… master is that OK?” Her lip trembled but she managed to look up at her captor.
“Go ahead.” Taen said to her and crossed his arms, memorizing every word she said. ‘Stubborn gash. Well at least it’s easy enough to goad the answers out of her by threatening her other half.’ He rolled his eyes while Priceless answered him.
“I over-overheard her talking about her farms once, I think she made her money that way, owned most of the farmland in a distant kingdom, people need to eat and… well that’s just a guess. Probably some other things. But that mainly, I guess.” Priceless drooped. ‘I’m a traitor… I’m a traitor I’m a traitor I’m a traitor… I promised my mistress I’d be good… I promised my kind and scary mistress... and I’m betraying her… why can’t I just die…?’
Outside, she began to hear the roar thunder in the sky. ‘May lightning strike me, stars, stars above, my gods… give me the mercy of death so I don’t do worse… please… I can’t take much more…’ Her jaw sent sharp jabbing pains to her brain every time she spoke. It had cracked three strikes before the last one. Out of the corner of one eye she saw one of her teeth lying on the floor.
She waited, dull eyed and staring down at the blood in her lap for the next question, her body entirely limp, and the shouting from down the hall reached her ears.
She heard the voice of the goblin calling out a name. “Taen! Get out here, we’ve got a problem!”
The human cursed and looked up at the large orc. “Keep an eye on her. No touching.” The orc grunted and the human left them alone.
Once out in the hall, he followed the shrill voice of Grekin. The goblin was standing at the door, his hand still tight on the knob as though afraid it would be opened at any moment. Taen felt his brief flare of temper fall away, the normally calm eyes of the little criminal with the big weapon were wild with alarm.
“What is it?” Taen asked with a feeling of ice creeping up his spine.
“Hoadnam. His watch at the hotel… she’s back.” Grekin’s remark seemed far too chillingly said than for a simple return, Taen shrugged.
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“So what? We knew she’d come back eventually. Disruptive elements tend to do that.” He put his hands on his hips, “Out with it, that isn’t the real problem, right?”
Grekin swallowed and his shrill, high pitched goblin voice battered the walls. “N-No. Somehow she got a whole regiment of soldiers. Cavalry from the looks of em. They’re questioning everyone in the upper district, she really… really wants this one found. This idn an ordinary snatch’n chat. This’s a real probl’m boss!”
“Is the half elf still monitoring the hotel or not?” Taen pushed, his pulse began to race, driven by the goblin’s tensions.
“Yeah, says that the elf left in a carriage a little while ago, headin in the direction of the palace.” Grekin’s breathing was speeding up, he kept looking between Taen and the door he held, weighing his options.
Taen spread his hands open at his side and spoke rationally, smooth as milk pouring from a pitcher. “Calm down, Grekin, everything just leads to the dupe, right? There’s nothing to connect any of you to any of this, and with him dead and dumped, how are they going to find this place?”
“Right… right.” Grekin nodded urgently, his tight grip on the door slowly falling away.
Behind them, down the hall, he heard a long, deep, joyful woman’s laughter.
Within the dank room, Priceless was shouting with unbridled happiness in a loud, shrill voice. “I told you! I told you I’m not forgotten! I’m not! My mistress is coming for me! She’ll hunt you! She’ll find you! She’ll kill me for a traitor when she learns what I’ve done! But I’ll be lucky! What she’ll do to you for stealing her property, for damaging her property?! You’re all going to beg for death! All of you! The only mercy I’ll ask for is that I get to watch you beg to die, before she kills her traitor slave! She’ll kill you, and me, but my Kaiji will be safe! Safe forever and you’ll never get her! Never! Never!” The joyful laugh that seemed to be going half mad, was cut off with the sound of a heavy cracking blow, and only silence followed.
“Great… I had more questions for her… Fucking Borkul.” Taen swore and clenched his fist, pretending as best he could that there was not a chill running up his spine.
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Nua rubbed her jaw while she walked through the rain toward where her carriage waited. The ghost of the pain was still there even after the healing potion they’d split. ‘That right fist of his, it’s a real thing of beauty.’ She had a satisfied expression on her face after the brief two minutes of violence. A faint tracing smile and a warm and comfortable glow to her skin, despite the water striking her from the sky.
It felt ‘cathartic’ in a way, to feel a violent blow, there was an integrity to his anger, frustration, and bitterness, and letting it out, and if she were being honest...it was even more so to ‘give’ one and let out feelings of her own of the same sort. It was for that reason that she cast a wayward glance at his back as he got into the carriage behind Solution. She saw his hand come up and, she thought, rub his chin. ‘I guess he still feels the memory of the pain too. I think he won’t speak like that in front of Solution again, at least.’ It was a pleasant thought to the elven assassin.
She threw back the hood of her cloak as soon as she was within the carriage, wiggling her ears to cast off the few stray drops to have reached her. As soon as she did so, she reached up and touched them. She immediately felt the swelling pleasure to her womanly core, and drew away her hand. ‘Raymond… your mercy gave that pleasure back to me. No matter what happens, I won’t forget that.’ Even to wiggle them again, was a reminder of the past mutilation. The memory turned her briefly reflective expression cold again, reminding her of where she was going.
The carriage ride felt quick, in reality, she was fairly sure she had simply lost herself in her own thoughts for most of the journey. Outside of the window, a regiment of soldiers were stopping citizens left and right, asking questions. ‘I suppose I’ll have to explain that to the Prince… maybe do him a favor of some sort… other than my intent.’ She rested her chin in the palm of her right hand, with her arm upright on the smooth window frame beside the carriage door.
The smooth dark wood of the carriage was polished to a shine, the cushion beneath her stuffed with the fine down of birds rather than crude straw, there wasn’t even a hint of a leak in the roof of the carriage, and the rich maroon dye of the long cushion of the seat was befitting of a king. There was even a long cushion secured behind her back, by what seemed to be nails of gold. ‘Iron or steel would have been better.’ The practical slave of old said within her mind. ‘But it wouldn’t showcase decadence and wealth.’ The practical noble woman within her replied. “Showy people.” Nua muttered and looked down at herself, appraising her clothing. “Well I’m hardly dressed for a ball or a banquet… but given the circumstances and the late notice…” She brushed it off when they rolled through the open gate.
She heard it groan faintly behind her, and waited while the carriage rounded to the front. The footman leaped down from the front and went to the door. He stood perfectly rigid in his bright green and red clothing, looking to Nua’s eyes, rather garish, but he posed well. His eyes straight ahead and his feet together, left arm at his side and right arm holding the door open.
Nua placed her foot on the small step and felt the carriage rock faintly from the weight shift, there was a faint squeak from the springs, and the footman reddened. “I will have the springs oiled when I return ma’am!”
Nua lifted her chin slightly and looked down at the slender young man, “See that you do.” She replied. “Have it done and return to pick me up this evening, so that I ‘know’ you have kept your word.”
“Yes, my lady!” He said in the squeaky voice of a youth on the verge of manhood.
The imperfection haunted the young man’s mind all the way back to the hotel, but as Nua ascended the stone steps of the Prince’s palace, she had already put it from her mind. “I suppose I’m the first one to arrive.” She murmured. The long red carpet lined the center of the hall like a monster’s tongue, the bright crimson shade caught the low light of the candles that had already been lit in anticipation of the setting sun she could see descending through the windows she passed. Ahead of her, a young boy in bright blue clothing, with a pair of sharp yellow triangles starting from the shoulders and coming to a point at the base of his waist, stood waiting.
He bowed deeply when she was ten paces away and held that bow until she was within three. His body was stiff, the whole time she had approached, her sharp elven ears caught his faint whispering. ‘One… two… three… four… OK now straighten up…’ It almost made her giggle. “My lady, please allow me to escort you to the ballroom.” He had a high falsetto voice and the faintest beginnings of a golden beard on his face.
“Lead the way, young lord.” She said with a politely neutral expression, neither smiling nor frowning. She extended the black gloved right hand, and he took it with a faint tremble and a moment of hesitation. When he took it, it was a little too fast.
However he kept his pace matched to hers and guided her down the hall, “Am I the first to arrive?” Nua inquired, looking down at the young boy out of the corner of her eye.
“My Lady… yes, you are.” He hesitated in his words, and Nua fought back a distasteful frown and kept her peace.
In front of her loomed a large double door three times her height, stained a reddish purple and polished to a shine, it reflected the many candles behind her, the youthful and somewhat pimply face of the young attendant, and the stern face of Nua herself. A large bronze vertical handle ran up each half.
She took one last look at herself, dressed in the deep black and forest green, with her high boots and a sheathed knife, she was less a royal lady and more a commander coming off duty. “I-I’ll announce you.” The youth stammered. Nua took her hand from him and managed a gentle laugh, she placed that hand down on his shoulder. “It’s alright, young lord. If nobody is here yet, there is nobody to announce me to. Besides, I know almost no one truly well yet.” Nua cocked her head back the way they’d come. “Go wait for the next, I can open the door myself.”
The boy looked briefly flustered, his face flushed red, which stood out on his very pale face. “At-at least let me get the door, my lady…”
“Aiwenor. Duchessa Nua Calen Aiwenor.” She found a faint smile forming in spite of herself for the desperate awkward youth as she gave him her name. “How were you going to announce me, without knowing who I am?”
The blush got deeper, and Nua took his shoulder, against her usual general intuitive dislike for humans, she sympathized with his overeagerness to impress and his struggle to do well. He stared at the ground and she squeezed his shoulder lightly. “It’s alright, you’ll be fine, boy. Just practice a lot, and before you know it, you’ll be an expert.”
He nodded, raised his head, and drew himself up to his gangly manly posture, then took the handle of the door, and pulled, hard. He strained, gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. The flush of embarrassment became one of strain, and Nua waited for several seconds before she said gently, “I believe it is a ‘push’ door…”
The young man’s jaw dropped, then closed, his lips bent inward as he sucked in a sheepish breath. “Please… don’t tell anyone about this, Duchessa Aiwenor…?” He all but begged, and Nua managed a polite laugh.
“Don’t worry about it, your secret is safe with me.” She winked down at him as the door opened inward while he died inside of embarrassment.
She stepped through the doorway, and it closed behind her. The boy was right about that at least, for a moment it seemed it was completely empty, a polished smooth wooden floor for dancing, while off to one side there sat a heavy, long dark wooden table. The chairs were dark stained wood and carved with spiraling circles of wooden strips that would offer some natural ‘give’ to the back laid against them. Already on the table were many silver plates laid out with silver spoons, knives, and forks already emplaced, and many silver goblets laid out with them. Off to one side of the room opposite the table was a large double door, but what caught her attention was a faint sound.
Her eyes followed the noise to the stairs and up to the upper echelon of the dining area.
There, the Prince sat slumped forward, with Sobella on her knees and draping herself forward so that her head was in his lap. For a moment, she jumped to the obvious. Only for her to place the noise and her sharp eyes caught that his face was anything but blissful.