the Leathermines

Back to chapter 42 - The beginning of the Chronicles of the Midlands is in Chapter one of The Slave Warrior - Please consider Tribute for the Web Mistress

 

There were musicians behind a screen on the other side of the Gallery, the light flute and harp drifting down the stairs as the group walked up.  There were blue and grey clad servants scattered through the long hallway, many of them ducking behind the columns on either side to be less intrusive.  Voices could be heard punctuating the music, laughter blending with it.

There were soldiers.  Not just Midland soldiers.  Laun paused at the top of the stairs and signaled to those still behind her.  She heard peace bonds being loosened and at least one blade drawn.  Laun held tighter to Edgar’s hand and stepped forward again.

Rosemond and Midland soldiers saluted as Laun passed by, saluting again as her cousin passed a few paces behind her.  Dougal had insisted on having her enter first as she had been specifically invited.  She had offered her hand to him at the bottom of the stairs and he had bowed out, motioning Edgar to her side.

A laugh came to Laun that she recognized, perhaps.  And a voice she did not recognize at all talking to Falmir.  Laun hesitated a few steps before they would clear the column and see who was behind the privacy screens.  Edgar slowed and pulled her with him.

The men turned, tankards in hand, at the small cough of a servant.  Laun smiled, flashing her teeth for a moment and not feeling the pleasantness she showed.

Falmir was beaming.  “If I may present my Daughter, Lady Laun Dresden, Princess of the Realm of the Midlands.”

The taller of the two other men handed his tankard to his Admiral and stepped forward, his blue eyes on Laun’s hazel.  He did not glance away to the others behind her, all dressed in borrowed fancy tunics from the Palace.  He was dressed in mostly black with the red ribbon rosette on his shoulder, one piece of gold visible on him.  Laun kept her hand on Edgar and presented the crowned man with her off hand, making a deep curtsey.

“Your Majesty.”

Ifahyd took her hand and kissed the back next to the signet ring, keeping his eyes on her eyes.  “You are not as described, Highness.”

Laun used Edgar’s strength to raise up again.  “Do forgive Killian, I had just given birth and had not been in the fields.”

“Fu-”  Falmir coughed.  “You didn’t tell me you knew the Admiral, Laun.”

Laun stood, even though there were motions by the nobles and the servants to several possible chairs.  “There are still things about me that you do not know, sire.”  Laun motioned to those around her and then to the visitors.  “Most of you have met Admiral Killian Chandren.  This is our cousin, King Ifahyd Bedral of Rosemond.”

There were bows and Erin stepped forward, a hand extended.  “Your Majesty.”

Ifahyd took on a slightly sad air and took Erin’s hand.  “I am sorry about Ithian, Cousin.”

Erin looked appropriately bereaved and nodded.  “Thank you, Cousin.  I feel some consolation in being a companion to his betrothed.”

The visiting King turned back to Laun and allowed himself to look at more than just her eyes.  She was in a red and black dress, fitted and flowing in the right colors.  Her hair was up, the three pointed crown seemingly held in place by strands of pearls twisted among her brown hair.  She had been called pale by the Admiral, but her tan told of labour.  The riding boots he could see told of horsemanship.  The light touch she had given him as he held her hand had trembled, even as her eye had been steady.  Her figure was sturdy and told of her womanhood, but he would not have guessed that she had recently been a mother.  His eye was drawn to her neck, the pearl drop on the delicate chain moving as she did.

“I see you have accepted our present, Duchess.”  He motioned to her off hand as the title brought a tightness to Falmir’s jaw.

Laun brought the hand with the pearl jeweled signet ring to her chest, her fingers lightly tracing along the neckline down to her covered cleavage.  “I was not in a position to deny the gift, your Majesty.  Not that I would want to.”

She had caught his eye and it followed her hand as it dropped across her chest and down the lacings.  She saw his eye stop at the silver bell.  His eye went back up and she saw a small nod.

“Who else do you have with you?”  Ifahyd held out his hand to Edgar.

Laun turned and dropped her hand from Edgars, clasping the front of her skirt.  “This is Edgar, my head Wardsman.”

There was a warriors grip between them.  “Killian told me that your Lady did not have a Lord, but it looked like you were he when I saw you together.”

Edgar bowed slightly and said, “I would not seek to share her titles, your Majesty.”

There was a raised eyebrow.  Laun moved slightly and motioned to Dougal.  “My Cousin, Prince Dougal, heir to the Midlands.”

Another warriors grip and the visiting King smiled.  “I hear you spent the year in the country learning how a farm estate runs.”

Dougal glanced to Laun and said, “Yes, your Majesty.  It was an eye-opening experience.”

Laun moved and put her hand on Fount, but motioned to Hunter.  “Hunter.  One of the best horse trainers I know.”

The King looked up to Hunter’s face and smiled.  “From Kell’s Arena, then?”

Hunter took the warriors grip and shook his head.  “No, Sir.  Midlands Army.  Princesses’ Fourth.”

“So that’s what it is being called now.”  Laun smiled as General Alsen strode in.  He took Laun’s hand and kissed the last knuckles before her fingertips, the familiarity shown making the visiting King and Admiral both raise eyebrows.  The General saluted to Falmir and Ifahyd and held his hand to his Naval counterpart.

There was a slightly bemused look in the blue eyes of the visiting King, but he turned back to Laun and then to Fount.  He looked from Fount to Hunter and back again.  “I am assuming brothers.”

“Fount, the father of my children.”  There was a slight pause before Ifahyd took Fount’s hand.

“I have been told they are beautiful girls.”

Fount was trying not to blush and had trouble keeping his eyes up and on the royal’s face.  “As beautiful as their mother.”

He stepped back and looked at all the men around the Princess.  “You have quite an escort, Cousin.”

Laun bowed her head slightly and motioned to the last four standing behind her.  “I’m not done, sir.  All my people deserve recognition.”

Ifyhed turned to Killian and said, “You did tell me she was forthright about such things.”  He turned back after getting a raised tankard in response.

“Verat Longhorn,” Laun motioned to her apprentice, her tone proud.  He bowed, not approaching the monarch.

“Evan.”  He bowed.

“Gem.”  She curtsied, a look of awe and boredom mixed.

“And Prince Fallion Silar Khan, my trainer.”

Silar stepped forward and held out his hand to Ifahyd, “Sir, I don’t think you remember me-”

The grip was strong and King Ifahyd patted him on the shoulder.  “You made an impression when you came over, Fallion.  I was sorry that you went over the plains to the Midlands after that nasty thing with Count Enied.”

Silar’s jaw clenched slightly and he said, “I was not sure if I would be welcome.”

“Accidents happen.”

Laun stepped around the men and offered her hand to Killian.  “It is good to see you, sir.”

He bowed and kissed the back of her hand, keeping ahold of her as he stood back up.  “I made my way home and immediately was on a ship back escorting our Cousin.”

“I am sorry you have not had time to settle a little.  Traveling all the time is tiresome.”

“Just as long as I have some time to play some Sticks, I’m fine.”  He winked at her and kissed her hand again.

Six months prior, when Laun had her first meal with Falmir in the Gallery, it had been a small table overly loaded with glass and crystal and gold, an abundance of food that was carefully parsed out for them.  A servant came to Falmir, who was having fun observing the interactions around him, and whispered to his Master.  Falmir nodded and put his tankard down on the table between two of the chairs no one was sitting in.

“I just had word that my Father will be with us shortly.  His wife has been unwell and sends her regrets.  I suggest sitting before he gets here so he doesn’t tell a story about how a seating arrangement saved his life once.”  There was some polite laughter.

A screen was removed by several of the servants and a long table with just a few crystal candle holders down it’s length was revealed, the white linen of the cloths bright in the evening light.  There were little candies at each place on a small plate but nothing else.  Some sort of secret seating arrangement known only to the servants had a King at each end and the others mixed on each side once they were sat.

“Klemner told me that he had a surprise for us tonight.”

Laun was not used to the type of meal where she could not just get up to talk to someone at the other end of the table.  She felt somewhat pinned in beside Falmir and Dougal, though it could have been worse with being between Ifahyd and Killian.  They all ate a few of the sweets, Laun’s stomach telling her that she had ignored her body for far too long that day.  Dreng came in, polished and with a small coronet without points on his head.  A little conversation started up, Falmir dominating the conversation at the end Laun was at by talking about news from the South and of a storm surge that had washed several fishing fleets out to sea.

Laun was startled when she looked up from listening to her father and they were surrounded by Palace servants.  Each had several plates in their hands and waited, quietly, as the others were busy talking, not noticing them.  Falmir followed his daughter’s eye and smiled, nodding to one of the servants.

Each plate had a selection of fruits already cut, drizzled with honey.  A smaller second plate was set for each person, plain breads cut and already buttered.

Laun forgot to listen to her father as she started to eat the fruit.  The apples were slightly tart, the pears smooth and melted in her mouth.  The peach did not need the honey, and was almost too sweet as the juices came out, but Laun did not mind.

“You are supposed to wait for me to start, you know,” Falmir whispered.

Laun looked up and saw several smiles in her direction, most of them just companionable.  “I didn’t know we were waiting for mess call, sire.”  A few chuckles went around the table.

“I’ll forgive you this once.”  His hand went to hers on the table and held it.

Laun did not mind.  She could eat with one hand easily.  She glanced to Edgar across the table and down one seat and saw the question, the concern of the friendliness.  She squoose one of Falmir’s fingers and said, “Pardon me, sire.  This country girl needs both hands to eat.”

He laughed and moved his hand, stopping himself from putting it under the table, and onto her knee.  The conversations started and stopped, most on that end of the table around Falmir.  Laun just ate, drank the water and wine and sweetmilk that went with each plate given to them, commenting on things when Falmir turned to her.  There was no need to dominate the conversation as far as Laun was concerned.  She was still fighting fatigue and the emotional drain she had gone through.

She realized that people were looking at her.  She looked up and smiled, saying, “Distracted with what Klemner did with this chicken, gentles.  What did I miss?”

There were a few chuckles around the table.  “I wished to know, Cousin, your opinions on a few things.”

Laun leaned forward to look down the table at Ifahyd.  “Killian has told you that I do not rein in my opinions, hasn’t he?”

There was laughter.  “I have been warned, Highness.”

Laun tried sitting up a little more to be able to see him better around the bodies between them.  She put her knife down over her plate and stood, a small shock going through the servants, a few smiles going through her companions.  She walked a pace towards the other end of the table and saw a servant start to swoop in to remove the plate.  She pointed behind her and said, “Touch that and lose a hand.”  The blue and grey servant stopped, petrified.  There were more chuckles and laughter around the table as the servant slunk back to his position.

A chair was pulled up for Laun and she sat, just a little behind Ifahyd.  He turned and looked at her, saying, “Serious about your food, aren’t you?”

Her eye went to his own plate and said, “They will clean your place faster than carrion birds, Majesty.”

He turned around and the plate had almost been removed while he was turned, most of the chicken still untouched.  He waved impatiently at the servant, the plate being replaced.

“I see what you mean.”  He narrowed his eyes, Laun seeing that the pleasant conversation was now at an end.  She sat upright, folding her hands in her lap, calming her expression and waiting for whatever was to come.

He took his time.  A sip of the wine.  Leaning on the arm of the chair and looking at her.  Getting partly up and moving the chair so that he was looking at her a little more squarely.

“Cousin, I would like to talk about my Aunt.”  He looked for a reaction, saw only a blink in her calm face.

“What about her?”  Laun’s voice was quiet, but those around the table could hear the restraint in her tone.

“She has become a problem for both of us.  I have heard that there may be a way to find her and get her out in the open.”

“I have been told that too, your Majesty.”  Laun’s fingers tightened around each other, but that was all she would allow to show.

“Ifahyd, is this the time?”  Falmir called down the table.

His blue eyes looked down the table at his peer.  “You yourself said that she has an interesting perspective, Falmir.  This is not something to be discussed over brandy and a game of Sticks.”

Falmir waived his hand dismissively and started to talk low to Dreng on his left.  Ifahyd turned back to Laun and looked at her again.

“Do you miss him?”

It was an unexpected question.  She knew who he was talking about.  She looked to her hands for a moment, looking at the signet this King had sent her, symbolizing the connection she had made with the noble household of Pearl and Ruby.  “Sir, I still think of him almost every day.  I see his eyes in Erin’s, I hear his voice in the back of my head.”  She took in another breath as if she were to say something else, but the unbidden tear that fell on her clasped hands told more than her words could have.

He watched her.  He saw the appropriate grief.  The tear was a little much, but he accepted it.  She looked back up from her lap and he could see a slight change in her calm, a stiffness to her lower lip to keep it from showing true emotion.  Ifahyd reached for his wine again and took a sip from the cut crystal goblet.

“If you were to have her alone for five minutes, what would you do?”

Her jaw tightened slightly.  Her voice was still quiet as she said, “It would not be my place to do anything, Majesty.”

He leaned back, not the answer he was expecting.  She kept her eyes on him, barely blinking.  His eye went to the silver bell tied to her dress’ lacings and back up to her eyes.

“Nothing?  You would not seek revenge?”

“I would not need five minutes for that, Majesty.”  Laun felt the others around the table react, but kept still herself.

He glanced up and saw the dark Prince’s face.  He was smiling and looking at his food, his posture was of satisfaction, of confidence.  Ifahyd remembered the wrestling and fighting skills of the man.  If he had been training her, he would believe that this girl had skill, but Ifahyd could not believe such a young thing would have the resolve to take someones life.

“Cousin, would you wish to take revenge?”

“Yes,” was the immediate reply.  “But sir, my own wishes cannot go before those of the Kingdom when it comes to her.  She has wronged my people in your name and should be held accountable for that, first.”

Again, not the answer he was expecting.  “Even for Ithian?”

Laun could not stop the expression.  The bloodglint and slight flush under her tan could be seen easily by those on that end of the table.  “I have already taken enough from her to satisfy that need, your Majesty.”

He leaned on the arm of the chair and looked at her.  She was both easy to read and very difficult to read.  She was controlled and still, the blush he saw pure reaction.  Ifahyd knew the look in her eye, but had never seen it in one so young, and never a noble woman.

“Sir, if she is found and brought out, what will you do with her?”

His eyebrow went up.  “Who said I would do anything?”

Her head went to the side slightly and she had a softer expression as she looked at him.  “The sovereign of the Kingdom she claims as her homeland has traveled for weeks to only have dinner?  A gracious thought, Sir, but one such as yourself would know is easily seen through.”

He smiled.  “Perhaps I wished to meet the woman who seems to have captured so many hearts.”

Laun’s eye twitched slightly.  “You give me too much credit, if it is I of whom you speak of.  I am a simple girl and I am happy that so many people have decided I am worth their attentions.”  She looked down to her hands, partially to keep her embarrassment more to herself, partially to not see the amusement in the man’s face.

“I seem to have touched a nerve, Highness.  Forgive me.”  His tone was playful and he gestured with his wine goblet.

“Nothing to forgive, Majesty.  I am humbled to be allowed to talk to such as you.”  She kept her voice low and her head down.

He put the wine down and rubbed his chin.  “You are nothing as I expected.”  He reached over and paused before touching her, raising her face to his again.

Her hazel eyes had flecks of gold and green that caught the candle light.  She slowly blinked, keeping her eyes on his.  She smiled slightly, the corners of her pink mouth turning up and the corners of her eyes crinkling.  The nose really was a delicate version of her male relatives’, the story of her coming from nowhere dismissed from his mind.  He saw a flash of something across her eyes.  He wanted to speak more to her, but he saw servants waiting to place the next remove.

“I have kept you too long, Highness.”  He dropped his hand from her and was tempted to have her place changed to beside him.

Laun stood and made a small curtsey.  “Thank you for your time, Cousin.”  Her stride was slow and she knew that those who could follow her movements would until she was seated at her place again.

The untouched chicken was looked at, but Laun saw that there was pressure to put the next plates down.  She tore some of the meat off and leaned back to let the rest be removed.

The head of the kitchens in the heart of the Palace stepped up to Falmir’s side.  “Your Majesties, gentles.  Yesterday, a farm we deal with sent word that there was a migration.  I present to you the first venison of the season.”

Two presentation platters were brought out, one to either end of the table.  Tidbits from the deer were laid out for the Kings to sample before cuts of the venison were set before each of those at the table.

After her plate was set at her place, Klemner put a small bowl next to Laun.  She looked up and smiled.  He nodded to her and stepped away.  Laun looked around and saw that she was the only one with the extra bowl.  She looked at it, putting a pinky into the brown sauce and tasting it subtly.

It was a spicy apple butter that reminded Laun of Orgia and home.  She smiled more and tried to not make happy sounds as she cut small pieces of the red meat and dipped it into the sauce.  Falmir stared at her as she hummed to her self while eating.

Laun looked up and smiled while still chewing the tender meat.  She dipped her knife into the bowl and dragged the tip along part of the venison steak on his plate.  He cut part of the meat off and looked at it on his knife.  He put it into his mouth and the cautious look went away.

“This is fucking good.”  He looked up and saw people looking at him.  He spoke up and said, “It is.  Thorn, you are into sharing.”

Laun saw the look in his eye and nodded.  She considered letting a servant go around, but she pushed back and stood from the table herself.  The knife she was eating with stayed on her plate and she turned and gave a look to the servant behind her that made it clear that the plate was not to be touched.

Without thinking, she pulled one of the knives from her forearm and started around the table, offering and spreading a thin layer of the tasty stuff on most of the men’s meat.

Ifahyd had a soldier step forward protectively.  He waved the man away and leaned back so Laun could get to his plate.  Laun was just trying to be polite and get around the table fairly quickly so she could get back to eating.  The position she was in while leaning over the King’s side let him see enough down her cleavage that his studied boredom was replaced with a mix of confusion and interest.

Laun continued around, Gem the only one to taste the spiced apple butter before accepting, Verat declining without tasting.  Dreng almost grabbed the bowl from Laun’s hand but she evaded him, giving him a tap on the back of his hand with the pommel of her knife.

“That is one thing I miss from the place.  Your chatelaine can make some of the best compotes and preserves.”  Dreng held his hand and rubbed it, but was more interested in the food than the potential bruise on the back of his hand.

“You spent time at our Cousin’s estate?”  Ifahyd was enjoying the rustic taste of the apples cooked to such a smooth consistency, with sweetbark and cloves, on the game meat.

“All of us have, your Majesty.  Some more than others.”  Dreng had a bite of the meat and sauce and could not speak any more.

Most everyone was unwilling to speak for a few minutes.  The enjoyment of the meat and sauce was shared by those at the table.  The servants waited and let the nobles and others finish what they could and sit back before stepping in and taking the remainder.

Small talk started up between the dining companions, tankards of ale and wine clearing mouths and filling in the small parts of their stomaches that had not been overstuffed, yet.  The extraneous plates and utensils were taken away, crumbs deftly picked and removed.

Laun was feeling like she must have gained several pounds during the evening meal.  She thought she would not be able to eat another bite until later the next morning. Then she saw the trifles placed along the center of the table.

“For you, sweeting.  I know you caught a taste for them while you were here.”  Falmir’s hand was on her forearm, a gentle touch from the large hand.

Laun burped slightly and looked at her father.  “You do know I am not pregnant any more, right?  You don’t have to feed me like a prized cow.”

“Then don’t eat it.”  Falmir reached for one of the large clear glass containers with the layers of cream, fruit and cake, scooping out some into a bowl placed for him.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to eat.”  There were chortles.

Laun took just a few bites worth from the closest layered concoction, but it was still more than enough.  Sweet and delicious and it made Laun feel as though she were about to explode.  Most everyone around the table had a bite or two and could not continue.  They all ended on a sweet and filling note.

Laun put her hand on the servant that came in to remove the glass container on that end of the table. “Please send my thanks to the kitchens.”  He jumped slightly, but nodded as he cleared what had not been eaten.

“It is still early, but I know you had a tough day, Sweeting.  Are you up for a game of Sticks?”  Falmir’s hand was on her forearm again, checking in.

“I may watch a game, sire, but I do not believe I have the mind for it tonight.”  Laun felt the fullness from the food start to mix with the fatigue and tiredness, making her know that she would be too tired to focus on strategy.

Falmir nodded and raised his hand from her, pointing to the other end of the table.  “Your Majesty, are you a Sticks man?”

There was a broad smile, followed by a turning of his head as he burped.  Ifahyd laughed and his Admiral smiled.  “If the food does not catch up to me, your Majesty.”

Several sets of Sticks were produced by the servants, and a negotiation of where on the table the field would start.  The Kings chose to literally meet in the middle, one on either side, the crystal candle holders moved to clear the space between them.

It was a slow game at first.  Laun stood at her Father’s side, watching his strategy.  He was laying a good foundation, Ifahyd countering expertly, but leaving a hole several moves in.  Laun did not wish to disturb the game, but she kept seeing her father’s counterpart looking up from the pieces on the table and she finally realized he was looking at her.

There were several aggressive moves from both of them, spreading the field further on the table, blocking and taking and stacking.  There was still the hole.  Laun’s mind was fighting the food, but she thought about why neither of them had filled it, had used it.  She followed what they were doing, caught glimpses of Falmir’s pieces.  She mentally used his pieces and saw that it was a trap.  An obvious one that had been laid, and then left alone.

But Laun saw a way to use it.  She leaned on the back Falmir’s chair and looked to the field down his chest.  She murmured something low to his ear that made his head twitch to the side but not actually turn.  His eye caught on her thought and he tapped twice with one of the pieces in his hand.

Laun stood and moved away from him slightly.  She played with the silver bell on her lacings, watching the field grow, seeing the strategy slightly change on that side.

She had caught Ifahyd’s eye again.  She did not turn away, she did not fein interest.  She smiled.  She fiddled with her bell.  She looked down and leaned slightly to get a different angle.  On the field of play and her cleavage.

A piece was stacked from the other side, taking control of most of he field.  Falmir blew through his nose and leaned back.  Laun stood, arm across her stomach supporting her other arm which in turn supported her chin.  She saw three obvious moves Falmir could make, and the counters from Ifahyd.  She also knew he had a naught and naught that could change the entire game, if he wished to use it.

Laun saw Falmir’s hand drop over the arm of the chair as he moved in the chair.  She saw him sign something.  She had not caught all of it, but she thought she knew what he was planning.  She dropped her hands and leaned on the table, tapping lightly twice with a finger.

Laun turned and seemed to be looking for something.  “May I have some water?”  She turned slightly and took a tankard that was suddenly there at her hand.  She took a sip and walked behind Falmir’s chair, still looking at the game.  She saw Ifahyd’s eye follow her.  Edgar stood and offered her the chair next to Falmir, but she declined, leaning against her Love instead.  The hand not holding the tankard seemed to idylly go up Edgars chest to his smoothly shaved cheek as her back was supported against him.

It worked.  The visiting King was looking at her, not the field.  He placed his piece where he wanted but his eye was on her hand as it drew back down her man’s cheek and neck.  Falmir placed his naught and naught, seemingly grumbling at the move.  Ifahyd glanced and saw that the place he wanted to place a piece was still open and did so.

Laun smiled at the man across the table, her hand reaching down to Edgar’s hand and lightly directing it to her waist.  The King’s attention had broken from the game.  She could see the tip of his tongue behind his teeth, lightly running behind the white with the pink.  He was thinking of something he wanted, not what he should have been able to take.

“I believe the field is mine.”

Ifahyd blinked and looked to Falmir.  He saw the piece that had been placed and then the trap he had laid at the beginning of the game, used against him.  He thought back and then looked over to Laun.  He narrowed his eyes and nodded to her.

“I concede.”  The piece in his hand turned face down and was slapped onto the table.

Her hand went to Falmir’s shoulder and she said, “Well played, sire.  I never saw that opening.”

Ifahyd’s eyebrow went up.  “Perhaps a game between us, Highness?”

She lowered her head and looked at the hand at her waist.  “Perhaps another time, your Majesty.  It was good to see the game between you two, though.”

Falmir’s smile was wide as he stood and offered his hand to his opponent.  “Rematch?”

The Rosemond King stood and took the hand.  “Once your distraction has left.”  They both laughed, Falmir turning to his daughter.

“That may be a good idea.  It was an early day, and I did feel unwell earlier.”  She held onto Edgars hand as she made a small curtsey to the man across the table, and then one to her father.

“Thorn, get some sleep.”  Falmir smiled at her and glanced at the men who stood to accompany her.

“Mistress, if I may stay?”  Laun nodded to Verat.  He took a drink from his tankard, a measured sip, and looked at Ifahyd.

It did not take too long for Laun’s facade to crack and fall, staying in the Gallery as she walked down the stairs.  She was tired and she saw the games that were playing at dinner, not just the one after.  Too many people were around her, and yet, she felt still strangely alone.  She did not want to play the political games along with everything else.

In the corridor to the royal apartments, Dougal cleared his throat.  Laun slowed and stopped, turning to her cousin.  He stepped forward and looked just at her.

“Laun, I was wondering.  May I stay the night with you and yours?”

Laun blinked.  “Gem, I hope you have some energy.”  Laun glanced over to her blonde and saw the smile, and a rub on her arm where she had her wound.

The blue and grey servants were still outside the room.  Laun motioned and they went in, swirling around and cleaning as the large group came into the main room.  Laun stepped to the bathing room, the ever present need to use the privy annoying her.  She thought that it would be less once she was done with her pregnancy, but she found that polite society did not allow for one’s messy bodily needs.

She did not take her dress off while the blue and grey clad servants were there.  She did not care if they saw her on the ceramic seat, but she just did not want to have yet another set of eyes on her mangled body.  She cleaned herself, finished setting herself and stepped on the pedal.  It did catch her for a moment, the elegant way that it disposed of her waste.  If only everything seemed that simple.

She sat at the vanity and started to pull at the things in her hair.  Pins and pearls and silver were pulled out and randomly put on the table.  Laun did not care that the strand of pearls were worth more than a Sergeant’s year’s salary.  She did not care that the three pointed crown had been a generational heirloom, a symbol that had been in the Hawkwell family for over a hundred years.  She did not even care that her hair’s braid fell heavily, brushing her hips with it’s tip and bringing some attention to her figure.

She just wanted to be rid of the things that seemed to show others some sort of vainglory about herself.  She was not feeling proud of anything she had done.  Laun was feeling her nerves sharply as an energy keeping her moving made her hands shake slightly.  Or that was the nerves themselves.

Laun heard Gem’s giggle.  It was followed by a gasp that carried through to the bath chamber from the bedroom.  Laun leaned on the table and looked at the mess of noble accessories scattered there.  She wanted that pleasure, that attention.  There was no denying that from within herself.  But there was still something inside of her that did not want to let her have any attentions.

Laun just did not believe that she deserved it, even if she wanted it.

A gentle touch was at her shoulder.  Laun looked in the mirror, avoiding her own eyes, and saw Edgar.  He moved her braid to the side and knelt behind her, kissing her neck.

“Love, may I escort you to bed?”

Laun turned and leaned into him.  Her head was on his shoulder, face turned away from him.  She finally was able to voice her darkness.  “I don’t deserve you.”

His breath was warm on the back of her neck.  “I love you, no matter what, Laun.”

They embraced.  They kissed.  There were moments of tenderness before Edgar let his need for her really show.  He pressed her to him, ignoring the knees that were complaining about the hard tile.  He kissed her, wetly and hard.  He pulled on the back of her dress, wanting it to be off of her.  He tried to show her that her temper, her vagrancies, were nothing to his feelings for her.

Laun had tears, but they were not of sadness or frustration.  She leaned back when she felt him trying to take the dress from her, pulling on the thong that kept the loops together in front.  The concealing dress fell from her chest and his mouth went to her neck, working it’s way down to her cleavage.

She looked at the door into the main room.  Evan was standing by the door, his back to them.  The last of the blue and grey servants were leaving, Silar locking the door behind them.  Laun felt a relief and relaxed into Edgars hands and mouth.

Edgar pulled on Laun and she found that she was straddling him as he sat on the floor.  They kissed, her arms and legs going around him, holding onto him as if he were to disappear at any moment.

“Can I undress you?  This underthing you have on is getting in the way...”

They stood and she was down to her knives and boots in little time.  He helped with the boots and she took her socks off while he started to strip, too.  He was not used to the metallic trim on the borrowed tunic and ripped some of it from the sleeve as he pulled.  He looked at it but just dropped the garment as Laun stood from the vanity stool.

His need took him and he moved her to against one of the walls.  She was in his arms, legs around his hips as he leaned into her.  The tile was cold at first, it warmed with her skin pressed to it.  He looked into her eyes and she smiled, nodding.

It was not like under the tree, the bark scraping at her skin.  There was nothing to hold onto other than each other, Edgar’s hands under her ass and his teeth holding onto her shoulder.  His manhood was in her, thrusting and pounding her ass against the wall.

Laun found herself speaking, gasping out words as her lover took her.  “Fuck me!  uh- oh!  Shove yourself in me...  Make me- ah!”  She moaned, feeling his legs start to tremble, his hand digging into her flesh.  “Fuck me and make me scream.  I want you to tear me apart.  Ah!”

  His knees gave out and they slid down the wall.  He was still in her, trying to thrust up as his knees hit the floor.  She was still being held against the wall, her feet on the floor behind him.

“Soon...  I’m...  soon,” Edgar gasped into her neck.

She had broken so many of her own rules, so many taboos, that she held on tightly to him, wrapping her legs so that it was difficult for him to move away from her.  “Peak in me.  Make me yours.”

“But!  Ah!!!”  He could not pull out and did not want to as he felt the first of his seed go through him, his thrusts wild as they held onto each other.

Edgar breathed in, gasps that smelled and tasted like Laun.  He could feel his own seed flowing out of her and down his shaft, a pool forming under them.  He started to shake his head, kissing her to try to make up for what he had just done.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

She met his kisses and tightened her hold around him.  “I wanted it.  I wanted you.”

His bodies’ needs may have been met, but hearing that she wanted him made him start thrusting back up into her, the very sensitive parts of him making him groan, but responding before he slid out of her.  He watched her head go back and her eyes close, the pleasure she showed untainted with the darkness.

Edgar’s legs needed to be stretched, but he wanted to just continue to stroke into her, holding her and tasting her skin.  He kept moving until there was a cramp and he had to stop.  Laun stood, leaning against the wall as he lay on the tiled floor stretching his legs out.  He looked up at her and reached.

She took his hand and stood over him, a foot on either side of him.  She came down and slid easily over his manhood.  His hands went to her waist and then slid up her back, pulling her down to him.  Laun resisted slightly, but lay on his chest, Edgar’s arms around her as they moved together.

It was comfortable and loving.  They kissed and looked into each others eyes.  They took time to say little things to each other as they moved and slid and excited one another.  It felt good and Edgar was getting close to another peak as they were on the floor of the bathing chamber.

Edgar moved slightly and then rolled on top of Laun.  His arms were still behind her back, his palms on the floor as he sped up his thrusts.  Her legs were around his hips, feet touching as she met his movements.  They kissed and his breathing told her that he was close again.

“Anywhere you want, my Love.”  Laun looked into his slightly glazed eyes and saw him smile.

He leaned down and slowed his thrusts, saying, “Salam-Dir.”  He smiled before a pained expression went across his face and he became frantic with his thrusts.

He came again inside of her, still not wanting to pull out.  His body had other ideas as his manhood shrank and pointed towards the ground, not his Love.  She moved her leg and he lay on the tile next to her, holding her.

They kissed and then Edgar got an odd expression on his face.  “Pardon me, my Love, but I need the privy.”

There was a giggle from Laun, but she understood.  She sat on the tile and was suddenly cold without Edgar to warm her.  She stood, carefully, and took the robe that was hanging on the hook near the vanity.  She stepped out of the room to give him some privacy, and possibly find something to drink.

There were tankards and pitchers of water in the bedroom.  Laun leaned against one of the walls and watched as Gem was taking Erin and Hunter from either end, Fount looking like he had already had her once as he sat near, holding one of her breasts.  It was good to watch, and there was a pang of need in Laun, but she was tired, if not satiated.

Dougal came and leaned against the wall with her, watching the enthusiastic blonde.  “Was she always this way?”

Laun nodded.  “Though I taught her much more about her body before her maidenhood was taken than I knew even a month after.”  She tilted her head and looked at her cousin.  “Why aren’t you in there?”

He looked at the ground and then took one of her hands.  “Once you have had perfection...”

Laun accepted the hand kiss, and then lightly smacked him with the back of her hand.  “Get off your horse, Dougal.  I know you have had better.”

He shook his head and looked at Gem again.  “None with the sweetness of a forbidden act, cousin.”

“I thought you said never again.”

Smiling, Dougal said, “Not right now, but I hope the pleasure to be mine again, if you will permit it.”

She took another swig of water and handed the tankard to her cousin.  “Our family tree will be a vine if we aren’t careful.”  She turned and looked at Dougal straight on.  “I don’t like to tease, unless it is for a purpose.  I don’t like to promise unless I can deliver.  Keep yourself in your own saddle for now and we may revisit this later.  Right now, I am being...unstable, and I don’t want to bring down the house for a night’s pleasure.”

He nodded, taking a sip of water.  “I understand.  Which means Gem is going to be very sore tomorrow.”  He ventured a kiss from his cousin, met with closed lips but willing otherwise.

There was a scratch on the outer door and Silar spoke to the person through the closed door.  Laun looked, catching his eye as he looked slightly desperate.

“Mistress, Verat is back, but he has brought a visitor.”

Laun came through the door, Edgar coming from the bathing chamber at the same time.  “Who?”

“His Majesty Ifahyd.”

Laun had as much of a disbelieving look on her face as Edgar did.  “Fuck.”

Edgar sped into the bedroom, hushed voices and laughter following.  The door slightly closed and Laun rubbed her hand over her face.  She looked at the robe, knowing that it was not entirely decent.

“I’m going to clean up slightly, but please let my apprentice and his guest in while I am doing so.”  Laun went to the bath and mostly closed the door.

Voices came in and there were surprised sounds.  Laun washed with cool water, a dab of soap on a cloth to the places that she felt needed it.  She used the privy again, trying to make her inside muscles push out as much of Edgar as she could.  She still had the knives on and felt more comfortable, more secure with their straps holding them there.

The loincloth and other undergarment were back on, the robe over them and her hair down as she stepped back out of the bathing chamber.  Verat turned and slightly blushed, Ifahyd turning to see why the reaction.

“Verat, we were not expecting you to bring a guest.”  She brushed her hair as she moved to one end of a couch, the robe splitting slightly to show one of the thin knives strapped to her thigh.

The apprentice nodded slightly, making an apologetic hand sign.  “Your Grandfather was coming back to check on Bett and his Majesty wished to see more of the Palace.”

Laun looked at the end of a strand of her hair as if there were a knot in it.  “It is a huge building.  When I was first here, it took me a full hour to get from one end to the other.  Then again, I was pregnant at the time.”  She started to brush her hair again, looking directly at Ifahyd.

“Highness, I hope this isn’t an imposition.  I did not know you would be...so informal.”  The visiting King’s eyes tried to stay on hers, but flicked down to the visible blade several times.

“I find protocol and clothing impositions.  And people standing so that I get a crick in my neck.”  Laun motioned to one of the other low couches and Ifahyd sat.

“Mistress, shall I go?”

Laun smiled at Verat and shook her head.  “Silar, if you would take our apprentice to the other room and keep him occupied for a while?”  Laun looked over at Evan and motioned and soon Laun was alone in the room with the King of Rosemond.

His blue eyes went around the room and back to Laun.  “No escort?”

“Do I need one?”  Laun tilted her head and leaned back into the leather of the couch.  She started to do a rough braid of her hair as she looked at Ifahyd.

He took in a breath through his nose.  He could smell a light perfume, but he could also smell sex.  Many people, and he could not tell which one might be the curiously calm and subtle woman on the other couch.  The door into a bathing chamber was not closed and he could see a pile of red and black-her dress from earlier.  A sound of gasping came from the other door and he kept himself from turning to see.  His eye went to her tanned thigh, strap marks showing from the warriors harness down below the leather of the holster she wore.

“How many blades do you have on, even now, Highness?”

Laun stopped braiding and smiled.  “Enough, your Majesty.”  She continued braiding and deftly wound a thong around her hair and tied it, a small silver bell on the end.

“You do like the bell.  Because of Ithian’s gift?”

Laun smiled and looked at the solid silver charm.  “Your Majesty, you know that it is not just a charm.”  She looked back at him and let the braid fall to her cleavage.

“Yes, I do know.”  He leaned back and looked at her seemingly sleepy eyes.  “I have been told by several sources that you have talents most nobles do not.”

Laun scrunched up her eyes slightly and shook her head.  “I have talents that others know about.  I think that is the difference, Majesty.”

“Stop with the Majesty and Cousin.  Please call me Iffy.  It seems more appropriate, considering...”

Laun smiled and said, “Then it is more appropriate for you to call me Laun.”  She leaned on the couch’s arm and pulled her legs under her.  She kept her eyes on the man and waited.

He also waited.  He had much more practice in the game, but he wanted to talk to her.  He cleared his throat and said, “Killian told me that your household was the last of the loyalists against Falmir.”

She nodded.  She tilted her head slightly.  “Wondering strategy or logistics?”

He made a slight shrug and said, “Both.  I have been told that you have skills with the knives you carry.  The night of assassins at your families’ estate was told to me, and your role in taking them down.”

“Only two, and one killed herself, as is right for an assassin.”

He blinked.  “I was not expecting you to be so blunt, Laun.”  He moved slightly to face her a little better, finding his own ornamental dagger was digging into his hip.

“Why should I fein modesty at something that I did, even that poorly?”

“Poorly?  From what was described to me, I’m surprised any of them escaped.”

Laun looked down to the wood of the floor and sighed.  “People give me too much credit.  Again, I was pregnant and was recovering from a slash on my foot.”  Laun moved her leg around and showed the man the slightly ragged pink line in her callus.

He leaned forward to see.  It was well healed, but he could see where the skin had not quite met up, even with stitches.  His hand was almost touching when he stopped himself.

“Pardon, Cousin.”

“It is a real scar, if that is why you wish to touch.  All of my scars are real, only hidden to not shock the nobility around me.”  Laun pointed her toe and drew a hand up her leg, showing a little more thigh and a few more scars.

He paused, his eye going from her hand to her eyes.  “You must have had a hard childhood.”

She quietly laughed.  “No.  My childhood was easy and protected.  All of this is since the start of the coup.”

Forthright.  Calm.  Without pretensions.  He got up and moved to the couch with her.  “I have been told-”

She shook her head.  “Ask me.  People lie.  People exaggerate.  What do you want to know?”

He looked at his hands and put a hand on her one still on her exposed thigh.  She did not jump, she did not pull away.  She did not call out or slap him.  “I am wondering how such a young noblewoman such as yourself could run a household and keep it protected from the army of the Midlands for so long.”

She shrugged.  “Communication.  Resource management.  Respect.”

“You never seem to be quite what I expect, Laun.  You sound more like one of my Generals or Admirals than a young woman.”

She smiled.  “And that.  Even to myself, I am never quite what I seem.”  She turned her hand over under his, palm to palm.

He did jump slightly.  He started to pull his hand away but stopped.  “Laun, I...”

She blinked at him and tilted her head.  “We can talk about strategy and traps and agriculture projections if you wish, Iffy.”  She moved slightly and he saw the other thigh, the other knife.  “You are much more experienced in this than I, and even I know that a man half again my age does not talk strategy in the middle of the night to a half-clad woman.”

He looked at her and watched as she leaned back slightly, her other hand drawing her braid up along the split in the robe and her cleavage.  Another sound from the other room took his glance from her for a moment as he recognized the pleasure of orgasm for a woman.

Laun was smiling when he looked back.  “Please forgive my Gem, she is holding the men’s attentions while I am out here.”

He swallowed.  “I was told...  You are quite free with yourself.”

She smiled and shook her head slightly.  “There is always a price, Cousin.  Always.”

He leaned towards her and felt like a fool at his first red scarf house.  She was so calm and she did not push or pull him, letting him decide for himself.  He put his other hand on the arm of the couch, supporting himself as he leaned in.

She raised a hand and he stopped, his breathing already shallow without ever touching her lips.  “Iffy, you are not breaking vows to do this, are you?”

He pulled away and looked into her brown and gold and green eyes.  “I-No.  No, Laun.”

“You come to me of your own free will?”  Laun felt as though she was going through some sort of ceremony.

He nodded.  “I am not sent, I am not coerced.”

She put a finger along the bottom of his lip and asked, “Do you expect anything past tonight from me?”

He stopped and pulled back slightly.  “I-What do you mean?”

Laun leaned back just a little more and put her free hand along her stomach.  “Do you expect me to be at your hand if we do anything?”

He sat back down, the hand on the arm of the couch pulled back to his own lap.  “I usually am the one that needs to pry my...companions from me.”

Laun leaned forward, trying to keep her eyes level with his.  “A change always happens, Iffy.  But, do you expect me to be with you after this?”

“I would like to think so.”

Laun shook her head.  “I will not promise anything.  I have my own life, my own household.  I am honored that you would wish to-”

He was kissing her.  He felt a small sting and cold line on his neck.  Ifahyd moved back and her fist around the pommel was on his collarbone, the knife not so gently on his throat.

“I have been taken advantage of by those from Rosemond too often, your Majesty.”

The blade was moved and his hand went to where there had been a sting.  Blood was on his fingers, but he was still alive.

“If we do anything...  Do you have expectations...  By being together...”  She was getting frustrated with not having the right words.

“What are you trying to ask me, Laun.”

“Will your Queen know of this night, if it happens?”

“I have not found a consort for the Pearl and Ruby throne.”

Laun’s eyes closed and she put the knife back in the holster on her forearm before she asked, “Does your Kingdom have some fool law about being married if you have sex?”

He blinked.  “Some can be interpreted that way, but only if you look at it in a certain light.”

“Unlike giving and accepting stupid betrothal gifts?”

He sat back again and looked at Laun.  She was flustered, but he thought he saw where her problems were coming from.  “You miss Ithian.”

Laun nodded and said, “I do.  That is beside the point.  Our Kingdoms are different enough in several points of law that it caused some confusion and that is what led to Engrid sending her assassins.”  She saw a little hesitation in him and continued with, “I accepted the betrothal gifts before I knew that in Rosemond that meant you were married.  I cannot be married.”

King Ifahyd rubbed his chin slightly.  “Your man will not share your titles.”

Laun nodded.  “I loose my titles if I marry.  I cannot inherit.  I cannot even claim my own household for my own.  Or my Kingdom.”

That made him pause.  “That changes a few things, doesn’t it.”

Laun was up off the couch and went to the bathing chamber.  It only took a moment, but she was back, the signet ring in her hand.  “This is not mine.  I never married him, I never was going to marry him.”  She held it out and dropped it onto the couch next to Ifahyd.

He took it and held it, a finger going through the solid metal band.  The household symbol was on it, not the Kingdom rose.  The two pearls meant this was held by a Duchess.  Should be held by a Duchess.

He looked back at Laun.  She was standing against the wall, watching him, a tremor on her bottom lip.  “I am the King.  I can give Grants of Rank to anyone I choose.”  He came off the couch and went around, trying to keep her eyes on his.  He reached for her hand and paused.  Laun limply held out her hand and Ifahyd put the ring on one of the fingers.  “Duchess, welcome to the household of Pearl and Ruby.”

She pulled her hand back and looked at the ring and then Ifahyd.  “Thank you, your Majesty.  I hope I do not disgrace it as I have...”  She closed her eyes and a tear ran down her cheek.

His hand went to the tear, his thumb wiping it away.  She turned her head slightly away from his touch, but that just showed him the gentle curve of her neck.  He drew his hand down her face, down under her jaw.  Her head turned more and he stepped into her, his lips going to the sweet spot below her ear.  She sighed and he felt her put her arm around him, pulling him to her.

She was sweet and musky.  She sighed and gasped, reacted when she felt something good, not just at his touch.  His hand went under the robe and found the skin and underthings hiding beneath.  He followed her curves with his hands as he nuzzled her neck.  The cotton of the loincloth fell away as he pushed his hands beneath the cloth, a gasp coming from her as his hands went to her ass.

She turned her head and brushed her cheek against his.  There was a light breath on him and her hand went to his hair at the back of his neck.  They kissed, her sweetness making him want more.

He suddenly moved, his hand going to his head.  The seven pointed crown had started to slip.  He stepped away and took the crown off, putting it on the couch seat.  Her hands were loosely holding the robe together, but it was not covering much.

Laun pulled the ring off her hand.  She started to walk towards the bedroom door, putting the ring on one of the side tables.  She held a hand out to Ifahyd and he followed.

 

Through the door, Laun and Ifahyd start to have some fun as others around them are also occupied, in Chapter 44