QueensQuest (6 page)

When he entered, I said, “I think you understand why I
wanted you here tonight.”

I wore a pink nightgown of flimsy silk, no impediment to his
keen green gaze. A wry smile twisted his lips, which were finely carved and firm.
“You’re trying out the available studs.”

I smiled, twining my arms around his neck. We kissed. He
felt good, even though I was not truly needy due to my earlier romp in the
woods with Kaldir.

I believe Geoman sensed my mood, for he moved his lips from
my mouth to my cheek and then to my eyes, gently stroking each closed lid. His
tenderness drew my tears. I blinked and looked at his kind, humorous, smiling
face.

He kissed away the moisture and continued holding me,
caressing my back. “We would deal well together were I your choice.”

After a short silence, I prompted, “But…”

“But I should not be.”

“You’re reluctant to share the Golden Throne with me? Why?”

His hands tightened. “It’s not you. I have always cared for
you.”

“And I for you.” I looked into his green eyes and sighed,
sensing a rejection.

“More than the usual loyalty I owe Shadowland’s monarch.” We
smiled at each other, my heart happy. He continued, “But in council, I am
telling you the truth, Audryn. Consider Darkside’s prince.”

“I will, when I meet him.” Even more impressed by Geoman, I
went to the sideboard. I poured a glass of warmed red wine and offered it to
him.

“Darkside-carved crystal?” Geoman asked. The DarkDwellers
created wondrous glass in the fires of Darkside’s volcanoes. The process, a
closely guarded secret, gave the crystal a luminescent sheen, which their
artisans then cut through to create fantastic designs.

“Yes.” With a lifted brow, I served myself wine.

“There are many advantages to an alliance with Darkside, and
Lord Storne’s reputation precedes him.”

“Mighty in battle and all of that?”

Geoman tapped his goblet against mine. The crystal rang, a
merry chime. “Your good health, beloved Queen.”

“Thank you. And to yours.”

“Apparently Darkside’s king is elderly, and not only did his
son, Prince Storne, lead his clan’s battles but conducted the complex diplomacy
that pacified many DarkDweller clans. Most saw the advantages of peace.”

“After Storne had won a battle or two?”

“Yes. He was reportedly most savage. His clan left no
survivors. Storne butchered them all.”

My goblet clattered as I set it back onto the sideboard
despite my efforts to hold it firm. “P-personally?”

“Personally.”

I stared at Geoman. “And that’s…good?”

“I share your suspicions of the Lightsiders. Worse, I also believe
they have weapons that far outstrip anything we have. We need someone like
Storne.” His mouth tightened. “We have allied with the Children of Light in the
past, but it has advantaged us not. They elect a different prince-scientist and
give us little of their technology. The truth is that they need Shadow and
Darkness more than we need them.”

“Yes, they need minerals and ice from the Darkside, and
everything must pass through the Shadowlands.” I pressed my fingers to my lips,
thinking. I looked at Geoman. “But what if I cannot control Storne? And
marriage to him will not solve the issues that the Children of Light present.”

“They will, in part. Unless their weapons are far superior
to ours, Lightside will hesitate to attack Shadow with Storne on the Golden
Throne and two armies, his and ours, defending us.”

An idea struck me. “What if I were to tell Kaldir that I
wish to see his realm before joining Shadow with Light? He could scarcely
refuse.”

Geoman twirled the stem of his wineglass through his
fingers. “You’re right. But what of Storne?”

I shrugged. “I want to see Darkside, also. I’ll treat them
both equally, ask for a tour of his dominion as well. In exchange I’ll offer to
show them around the Shadowlands.”

“A Royal Progress. Yes, there has not been one for many a
long year.”

“Not since I was small. Beryla had planned…” I stopped and
bit my lip. My sister had wanted to make a Progress after her marriage. We were
all going to travel with her and her husband, who would have been the crown prince.
I wondered who she would have selected. Kaldir? Frayn? Geoman? Storne? What
would our parents have advised?

Geoman’s hand covered mine. “I know what the crown princess
intended to do after her marriage.”

I cleared my throat. Even so, my voice came out husky. “The
time is overdue. We shall make a Royal Progress through our lands, then
continue to Lightside.”

“Then to the DarkDwellers’ realm. Audryn, you’re brilliant.”

“That’s why I’m queen,” I said smugly, while destroying the
effect with a wink.

He winked back. “Once we’re inside the Lightsiders’
citadels, we can pierce their secrets.”

“Precisely. We’ll bring such a huge entourage that they
won’t be able to keep track of everyone.”

“And if the DarkDwellers come with us, so much the better.
Storne is a master of warfare. If the Children of Light conceal any military
secrets, he will worry them forth.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Let’s keep this plot to ourselves for
now, shall we?”

“Agreed. A Royal Progress, with no underlying motive.”

* * * * *

At our morning conference, I convinced the Ten Ministers of
the viability of a Royal Progress without revealing my true purpose, then
broached the subject to Kaldir at luncheon. He said, “What about the
DarkDwellers? Aren’t they sending a delegation with a candidate for your hand?”

I affected a careless mien. “I cannot wait indefinitely for
Darkness’ emissaries.”

“The temper of Darkness’ prince is said to
be…unpredictable.”

“I have not heard too much about him, but he is said to be a
fearsome warrior.” I picked at my sallet. It was sprinkled with dried toreed, a
briny-tasting water-grass alleged to have medicinal properties. “If we leave
for the desert before Storne arrives, it is possible that he may take offense.”

“You don’t sound concerned.”

“He needs me more than I need him.”

Kaldir stared at me. “Ruthless beneath the sweet façade.”

“I prefer…realistic.”

He chuckled. “If we leave before Storne arrives, I will have
you all to myself.”

I did not mention that Frayn and assorted other ministers
would accompany us, to say nothing of numerous servants, guards, ladies-in-waiting,
stable hands… Kaldir might be able to find a quiet moment to press his suit,
but I doubted it.

That afternoon, as usual, I held Open Court, an event at
which any citizen of Shadow could ask me for advice or judgment. Daily,
travelers arrived from all over the Shadowlands to speak, or most often to
argue.

My elaborate gown, swelled on each side by panniers, all but
obscured the Golden Throne on which I sat. The dress, in a rich crimson
brocade, was a vivid splotch of color against the gray slate hall. I gripped a
scepter—another ancient symbol of power—in my right hand. I leaned my chin on
my left, considering a boundary dispute between two farmers when I noticed a
flurry of activity near one side of the Great Hall.

Ignoring it, I straightened, conscious of the Throne framing
me, and announced my judgment. The litigants retired as metal-shod feet rang on
the slates. I had not noticed when the tall knight had entered, but at some
point he had decided to make his presence known. My attention seized, I rose,
seeking to pick out the interloper from the crowds.

He wasn’t hard to find, for he stood at least a head taller
than anyone else in the room, and I understood the mockery of the Darksiders
who called us “puny creatures of Shadow”. He wore a metal suit from head to
toe, and I could see nothing of his face, hidden as it was by a helmet crowned
with the double horns of the taqqa.

I knew the moment he espied my glance on him, for the speed
of his long strides increased. He bulled his way through the crowd, which
parted for him like the stormwind rushing around the turrets of my castle.

I consciously grounded myself, feeling the marble floor
beneath my high boots, straightening my back. Deep breaths pressed my breasts
against my corset, the lace trim scratching my flesh. My heart pounded.

Managing him would not be easy. If I chose him as my mate,
who would rule over Shadow?

“I, Storne, Lord of Darkness, have come to claim my queen.”
He approached and stepped onto the dais supporting my throne.

I was offended. “Bow,” I said.

Still standing, he reached up and removed his battered
helmet. Long dark hair, unkempt from his journey, fell around his armor’s
pewter shoulders. Cold gray eyes regarded me from a pale, set face, all planes
and angles of bone. Not a stripling, but not wizened and old. Darkness had sent
their finest champion, for Storne was a prince in the prime of life.

He inclined his head, giving me the briefest of bows.
“Audryn.”

I lifted my brows at his use of my given name. “The Queen of
Shadow greets Darkside’s emissary,” I said formally, extending a hand.

He stripped off a gauntlet, then dropped it and the helmet
to the stone floor with a startling crash. My body jerked. He took my fingers
in his, caressing my knuckles through the glove I wore. Instead of brushing his
lips on the satin, which would have been proper, he pulled at the glove,
thrusting his thumb between it and my wrist.

He tugged off the glove, turned my hand over and boldly
kissed my palm. I felt the softness of his lips, the barest scratch of stubble,
for he was clean-shaven, and then the slightest flicker of a tongue.

Desire flared through me. Memories flooded my mind… My
Exhibition Day, so exultant and perfect. Stolen kisses trailed along my body by
a horseman I’d met while riding, kisses that had ended when he’d reached my
quim and took me. Nibbles on my breasts…one of my cousins, a nobleman from a
rival house, had a fetish for my nipples that had lasted three pleasurable weeks,
weeks that ended with the death of my family.

I gasped and jerked away from Storne.

He laughed. There was a lascivious knowledge in that
laughter and an edge of meanness. I immediately decided that I’d go barren
rather than marry this pig.

I inhaled deeply, remembering who I was. My feelings were of
no moment. I had obligations. The Lord of Night was no fool to be fobbed off
lightly. But before the heavens, he had a crude lovemaking style. I was used to
better.

He eyed me again and I trow that I saw the moment he ceased
viewing me as a prize to be won and began to desire me for myself. His gaze
traveled to my lips, down to my breasts, barely concealed by the low-cut gown,
then up to my mouth again. True want heated his cold gray eyes, and his grip
clenched my hand in a jerky manner I would swear was not voluntary, not
intended or planned.

He wanted me, and I needed that. For in a sudden rush of
feeling, I realized that I wanted him, wanted to share his wildness, seize what
fierce pleasure I could from this warrior. I prayed he was my match, that we
would reign together all our days as equals on the Golden Throne. But ’twouldn’t
be easy.

I cautioned myself against haste. I could be wrong, and
being queen, my mistakes were consequently greater than the errors of others, further-reaching
and longer-lasting.

He dropped to his knees with a crunch of metal on slate.
“Darkness offers fealty to the Queen of Shadow.”

“Shadow acknowledges Darkness’…gift,” I said hesitantly,
mistrusting his quick change in attitude. “Rise.”

He did, and I was astonished by his grace and strength, for
his armor, dented and dark with use, must have weighed many pounds.

“Maia.” I gestured and my handmaiden advanced. I smiled at
Storne. “Maia will see to your comfort and that of your entourage. I must
complete the afternoon’s tasks.” I cocked my head toward my silent, waiting
subjects. When I glanced at them, I saw that they were as attentive as I, as
though they sensed this meeting’s significance.

* * * * *

I do not recall the rest of the day. While I listened,
advised and judged, a part of my mind was separate, remembering Storne. How he’d
looked. What he’d said. How he’d sounded and smelled… He’d had a male tang that
was part the wind and dust of his journey, part the earthy odor of his steed,
part the metallic scent of armor… Sweet heavens, had that been
blood
darkening
the metal joints?

I sent a message to Storne requesting that he attend me
toward the end of my toilette, and told Maia to prepare me with especial care
for that evening’s dinner. I sent out all other servants so I could speak with
her privately about him.

As I reclined on a golden velvet settee, she shaved me, a
bolster beneath my hips and my legs wide so my pussy was accessible. With
quick, deft strokes of the razor, she cleared the curls from both sides of my
delta, leaving the mound furred, then from my labia, so the area round my
clitoris was smooth. She then cleansed me with a damp cloth before massaging my
sex flesh with lotion scented with soothing lavender and chamomile.

I raised my arms above my head, lifting my breasts so they
crinkled in the cool air.
Storne,
I thought, tingling from head to toe.
“What did you think of him?”

She did not ask me the subject of my question but said, “I
like him. He is direct and honest in his ways, and has the respect of his men.”
She fluffed a powder puff between my thighs.

I sighed, my pussy throbbing. “How large is his…entourage?”

“Large enough, I trow. The DarkDwellers make dwarves of us
all.”

“I have a task for you.”

Maia set the shaving implements on the sideboard, then
turned to regard me with her fullest attention. I sat up and took a hairbrush,
handing it to her. As she brushed, I talked.

“I do not wish the leaders of Darkness and Light ever to be
alone together.”

She paused and the brush stilled. “I see your concern. If
they join against Shadow, we would have no chance against their combined
forces.”

“Yes. We would be squeezed like an orange in a press, the
life-giving juices extracted and the dry husk left to rot.” Fear twisted deep
in my belly.

The brushing resumed. “Kaldir strikes me as ignorant of
statecraft.”

“I agree. He may not have thought of such a strategy, but
Storne…” I pressed my lips together.

“Yes. I also believe it must have occurred to the Prince of
Darkness. He is far too canny a warrior to allow this opportunity to pass
unheeded.”

“Or at least considered the possibilities. He has a
reputation as a fine soldier.”

The brushing concluded, she tugged at a bellpull. “I will
make certain that Darkness and Light do not merge. But you must also do your
part.”

I smiled. “That will be my pleasure.”

Several of my ladies entered, opening wardrobes and bringing
out gowns for my inspection. Others braided my hair and pinned it to the top of
my head like a crown while others rimmed my eyes with charcoal and pinkened my
lips with a rose-colored tint. With unaccustomed nerves, I dithered over my
choices, wondering which dress or what color would most entice Storne. I
finally said, “The rose-pink, the one trimmed with gold lace.” I felt
overheated, and the gown was of thin, slick satin. Cooling, as in cooling my
lust. I did not want to indulge in hasty actions with the Prince of Darkness.

I continued, “And high shoes. I do not wish to look like a
dwarf.”

Maia emitted a sharp bark of laughter as she found pink
stockings, which were fastened above my knees with ruffled garters of golden
lace. She draped a pink chemise over my head, which was followed by a matching
corset, laced tightly to show my narrow waist and lift my breasts. I slid my
feet into heeled slippers, and as the satin gown was tossed over my head I
heard a door open, followed by the clatter of boots.

“Lord Storne.” Maia’s tone was respectful.

I shook my head free of the enveloping folds of lace and
satin as she tugged the gown into place. “Good evening,” I said.

“Queen Audryn.” Without being bidden, he approached. He
reached for me, then stopped. “May I?”

“Y-yes.” I did not know what he intended, but…

His smile transformed his angular face. He wrapped a big
hand behind my neck. His grasp was firm, warm, the skin of his palm a little
rough, from swordplay or riding, I imagined. I tried to breathe through a
tight, nervous throat.

He kissed me full on the lips, rather than a chaste buss on
my cheek, which would have been proper. Though he did not intrude his tongue,
the contact was warm, vital and vigorous, hinting at the pleasure we could
share.

As he withdrew, his gaze met mine, the gray eyes demanding,
gentle and amused. How he packed so many emotions into one glance was a mystery
to me. I told myself I was imagining more in his look than actually was there.

I had become infatuated by the Prince of Darkness swiftly—far
too swiftly. That was bad. I could not make decisions affecting the history and
welfare of my realm based on a passing fancy.

Maia bustled around me, fastening golden earbobs onto my
lobes, bracelets on my wrists. Another lady laced my gown up the back. I was
grateful for their presence and the respite that the mundane tasks afforded. I
could collect myself, regain my lost poise.

When I was dressed, Storne said, “Let’s walk before dinner.”

“Certainly.” I donned long pink satin gloves. Fingerless,
they wouldn’t impede me when eating or touching. Again anxiety cramped me to
the guts, but I laid a hand on his elbow.

He had bathed from top to toe. Most of his dark mane hung
loose, but the thick locks at each side of his face were braided, leaving his
features, angular but pleasing, exposed. Amber and musk from the EastMarch
scented his hair. He wore fine garments subdued in color—deep-blue shot and
trimmed with silver. The hue complemented his coloring. Hose of the same rich
tone limned brawny legs. He was aware of Shadowland fashion, for his codpiece
was large and embroidered with thick silver thread. His velvet doublet bore a
design with the sacred oak and fiery mountain, traditional symbols of Darkside
nobility, nature-worshippers all.

His gray eyes continued expressive, holding intelligence and
humor, and his mouth was unexpectedly sensual. A fantasy image of his lips
caressing my pussy drifted across my mind.

He led me through the palace with a sure step, showing no
uncertainty. Our respective retinues followed. Behind me, the train of my gown
swept the slates, but as it didn’t have panniers or hoops, our bodies occasionally
bumped as we walked. Each contact shot a scintillating trail of desire along my
skin.

“Where are we going? Do you know your way?” I asked.

He cast me an amused glance. “I had a free hour to explore
your castle. It is an admirable stronghold.”

He took me to the same terrace where I’d so joyously given
my virginity on my Exhibition Day. When our servants attempted to follow, I
said, “It’s all right. There are plenty of people below.”

True enough. Down on the lawns, tearing apart the sod, a
herd of magnificent taqqa milled and stamped, huge animals with shaggy
ochre-colored pelts, massive humped shoulders and curved horns, themselves
long, sharp weapons. Some of the beasts were mounted by armored warriors almost
as big as Storne, while the rest were laden. Servants, both Shadowlanders and
Darksiders, busily unloaded and stacked boxes, baskets, trunks, rugs and
portmanteaux. That our people worked together amicably was not lost on me.

“For you,” Storne said.

I stared at him.

“Tribute.”

My eyes widened. “You owe me no tribute, and you cannot buy
me.”

“No, but I see that I must woo you.” That smile again, so
unexpected from such a solemn mien. “I am but a rough warrior, but I wish to be
your
rough warrior.”

Pleasure robbed me of speech. I was touched by his
courtliness, so at odds with his earlier arrogance. And he was an astute judge
of character. He had taken my measure immediately and adjusted his approach. He
had also come prepared for any eventuality.

He took out a small pouch from a hidden pocket in his
doublet. “My first gift to you.”

My face felt too small for my smile. “Thank you.” Excited, I
reached for the red satin bag, hoping it contained jewelry. Darkside boasts a
wealth of minerals and gems and its artisans excel in the craft of jewelry design.