Viola Grace - Mask of the Overlord (2 page)

BOOK: Viola Grace - Mask of the Overlord
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“Why am I here?”

His lips quirked again. “Is that a philosophical question or geographical?”

“Situational.”

“Ah. As Overlord of Prinzik there is a need to select a consort. With a limited population, all women of the surrounding sector in the precise age range have been brought here, once a year for this date. Three nights, three balls and if you are not chosen, you may go home.”

He whirled her and she clutched at him for stability. She didn’t remember this kind of acrobatic movement with the other dancers.

When the song ended, he didn’t release her.

“What are you doing? Two dances and you are supposed to let me go.”

“I don’t want to. None of the others even dared speak to me, let alone question me. That makes you unique.” He smiled again, and it was not a good smile.

“Fine, why are some of the women terrified?”

“Ah, if they are in the area of influence, they had no choice but to come here for this day, as has been happening for over a decade. They come, they dance, they return home.”

She absorbed that information and shook her head, her mask hiding her expression. “You have 8

 

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been doing this for a decade and still no consort?” A grimness spilled into his tone. “I need a very particular kind of woman and only when I have found her will these events cease.” She didn’t know what else to say to that, she simply hung on and waited until they completed their turn and the music paused.

He took her by the arm and led her from the dance floor and out into the gardens. None of the other couples were near them. They entered the evening air and Hellara looked up to the stars that she called her home. “It’s a lovely night.” He looked down at her and she was struck by the familiarity in his movements. “Yes, it is.” She took a few steps away from him and looked at him in the starlight. She put together the identical bodies, the masks, the motion and suddenly she knew what she was facing.

“Proxies.”

He froze and the look he gave her was less than friendly. “I beg your pardon.” She backed away from him. “You heard what I said. You are perfect in every detail, each one of you exactly the same. You are projections of a singular controller. No wonder you all move the same way. For all intents and purposes, you are the same person.”

He stalked her as she backed toward the garden maze. “In ten years, not one woman has realized that. Hellara Neering, you are something 9

 

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extraordinary.”

She was gearing up to run when he stiffened and straightened. “The ball is over. The guards will take you to your chamber for the night. Return to the ballroom.”

His tone was blank with none of the banter that marked their earlier conversation and the quiet threat was gone as well.

Shaken to the core, she followed the projection into the ballroom and walked into the custody of the guards.

The guards led her to a door and ushered her inside. “The dressers will be here soon to help you out of your gown. Good evening, lady.” She was left alone in the room and her hands shook while she fought at the clasps holding the mask in place. They refused to give way no matter how much she tugged and her fingers were raw by the time the dressers came in.

“Oh, lady. Stop that. You will hurt yourself. The mask will come off after the third day. Not before.” The dresser rushed to her and pulled her hands away from her scalp.

Breathing quickly, Hellara fought the rush of panic at being trapped in the mask. Two of the dressers helped her out of her gown and slid a gauzy nightgown over her head, brushing her hair out beyond the confines of the mask.

“A meal will be brought to you in the morning, lady. Your gown for tomorrow will be brought to 10

 

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you in the evening. Try and relax, lady. It will all be over soon.”

Hellara thought of the Oracle’s prediction and nodded grimly. “That is what I am afraid of.” A panel in the wall opened and a tray came out to sit on the small table. She looked at it and stumbled blearily to eat her brunch. The chronometer showed her that it was very close to noon and Hellara knew that she had not gotten more than an hour of sleep across the span of the night. Her mask may feel weightless, but she knew it was there and the confinement kept her on edge.

Her breakfast was a charming mix of ground-pounder foods. Eggs, toast, some kind of rolled cured meat and fruit. Tea and caf made up the rest of the selection and she had to admire the change from her normal ship rations and water.

She explored and found the lav, enjoying a shower after her breakfast. When she emerged from the shower, her hair drying under the band of the mask, she blinked at the appearance of the dressers in her room.

“Lady, we have been asked to prepare you first and deliver you to the ballroom.” the first of six dressers bowed.

“Um, alright. What time is it?”

“Three hours until sundown. The guest rooms were arranged to avoid any external light. Please, sit.” At the touch of a button on the wall, a dressing 11

 

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table and chair emerged.

Hellara took her seat and the dressers sprang into action. One dried her hair, another curled and pinned it up. Her nails were coloured a peacock blue, her lips stained pink with a lavender tint. The eye makeup had to be applied carefully, but when the dresser backed away, the visible lids behind her mask were the same blue as her nails.

The only dresser who spoke to her mentioned,

“Now, we tint your mask to match your dress.” In a moment, the pattern of a blue-green peacock feather spread across each side of the mask.

“Now, for the dress.”

The dressers swarmed her and tugged her to her feet. Her towel was stripped from her and her feet shoved into heeled golden slippers. The peacock patterned gown was slipped up her legs, over her thighs and laced tightly around her torso.

Her breathing was lightly restricted, but her body was all heady curves when she looked in the mirror. The creature that looked back at her was fantastically feminine, and well deserving of the sweat on the brows of the dressers.

“Your guards are waiting, lady.”

“Thank you for your hard work.” She smiled at them and they grinned at her.

“Thank you for making it worth our while. It is gratifying to see our arts so gracefully displayed.” She blushed, the colour staining her cheeks, but hidden by her mask. The open expanse of her chest 12

 

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was the largest telltale marker of her embarrassment. “I… Thank you.” Hellara left her chamber ahead of the dressers and six guards were waiting to escort her to the ballroom.

They surrounded her and walked her from her chambers, past a number of unmarked doors, toward a well-lit atrium. “I thought we were going to the ballroom?”

“Not yet. The Overlord wished to speak with you privately first.”

She swallowed. “Ah.”

The atrium was filled with flowers on one side and a throne filled the other. The throne was occupied by a masked Overlord proxy. As she approached, the guards fell behind and left her alone with him.

“Hellara, thank you for coming. You look amazing.” He beckoned for her to approach.

She made a careful curtsey and walked toward him. “I don’t understand why I am here.”

“Because I wished you to be.” He got to his feet and met her halfway. “I wish to take you on a tour of the grounds.”

He extended his hand and she placed hers on the back of his knuckles.

She walked with him through endless wings of the house in silence. Finally she said, “this isn’t much of a tour.”

He laughed. “I apologize, but I have something 13

 

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to show you in the east wing.”

“Fair enough. Why is the city unoccupied?” His lips tightened. “My folk are afraid that I will take their daughters, so once a year, all who can, leave.”

She scowled. “What do you mean
take
?”

“That is a discussion for another time. All you need to know is that there are only twelve women left here in the palace. The others were returned from where they originated.”

A large metal door loomed at the end of the hallway. The Overlord walked up to it and placed a hand against it. “Behind this door is my body.

Once a year for the last ten years, it has unlocked to allow a special woman inside. That woman will be able to free me from my mask and in doing so, she will free my people from the knowledge that they are ruled by Proxies.”

Hellara nodded. Proxies were a limited range technology. A very strong signal needed to be sent to keep the mechanicals moving. If the Overlord was stuck, that meant he was ineffective as a representative for his people. They were crippled by his condition.

“Why is your body in there?”

“It began as a treatment for a genetically engineered virus, but it was later found to have been a ploy to lock me in stasis. The Proxies were offered by a nearby world and have been invaluable in my continuing to rule my people.

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Those here in the palace are my most loyal servants.”

She nodded. “So, I need only open the door and release you?”

“As far as I know. No one has felt this right before.” He was going to continue but a gong sounded. “We need to get to the ballroom. It is about to begin again.”

“Time moves funnily here.”

He quirked his lips. “Not really, there is a naturally occurring chemical in the air that skews the perceptions. When you leave, you won’t know where you have been. It has kept other governments from destroying me while I have been otherwise occupied.”

He led her back through the halls and into the ballroom. He separated from her and stood with the other proxies while the women filed in. True to his word, there were now only a dozen women.

Each woman was wearing an outfit reminiscent of a brilliantly plumed bird. The men were wearing the same clothing as the day before, vests over tight trousers and a bejewelled belt.

The dancing began again, this time Hellara did not manage to hide from the eyes that followed her every move. The proxy that she danced with held her far more closely than she had been held the day before. She widened her eyes in surprise at the erection that brushed against her with every shift in their balance and slide of their feet.

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Her shoes were causing an ache she couldn’t ignore, so she begged off the next dance and wandered over to the buffet table again.

Today a rich purple beverage was being served and the servants were most insistent that she take some. Each sip sent a hum through her veins in a most pleasurable manner. Warm, relaxed and enjoying a new pulse through her nerve endings, she returned to his arms and let him steer her around the dance floor once again. Her feet did not hurt, in fact her whole body felt wonderful.

She looked up into the proxy’s eyes as they danced. He was looking at her intently as he pressed her hips to him in a repetitive manner. Her hips twisted against him, seeking further contact.

Her lips parted and she slowly dragged her tongue over her lower lip. His eyes darkened and he pressed a kiss to her lips, right there on the dance floor.

She surrendered completely to his embrace, revelling in the sensations rippling through her.

She didn’t care about their audience, or the women who were whispering in shock, all she wanted was to wrap her fingers through the hair of the proxy in front of her and hold his lips to hers.

He lifted her off her feet and walked with her, her arms looped around his neck and her mouth firmly involved in the kiss.

He opened her chamber door and his hands worked at her ribbons and lacings until the gown 16

 

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slid free and left her wearing nothing but her mask and the high heels.

Nervous, she stood as he quickly stripped his body until he wore only his mask. The ripple of his abdomen drew her fingers and the jutting heat of his cock felt like an iron rod when she wrapped her hand around it.

She stroked it with several slow motions, causing his eyes to close behind the mask. Finally, he opened his eyes and pushed her back onto the bed. He lifted her knees and spread them wide, lowering his head between them.

He licked, bit, stroked and petted her until she was writhing on the bed with her hands fisted in the sheets. She bit her lip as she twisted to get more of his lapping tongue on her clit, but just as she was going to go over the edge, he stopped.

She whimpered in desperation, but he moved over her and slid his cock into her in one long slow deliberate stroke.

She sighed as he withdrew and surged back into her, setting a precedent that gained in speed and power until her knees were draped over his forearms and he was pounding into her.

When she screamed her release, he paused in place. His body was giving him feedback but on its own, she had just had sex with a talking doll.

Embarrassment claimed her and she covered her breasts, turning from his gaze.

“Why are you doing that?”

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