TITLE    : Emperor's Shadow Ch. 04
STORYID  : emperors-shadow-ch-04
SUMMARY  : The Emperor makes a proposition.
AUTHOR   : averagereptile@lit
DATE     : 2021-10-08
CATEGORY : science-fiction-fantasy
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |royalty|whore|oral|magic|bath|warrior|pagan|power play|sub|dom|


They reached the gates of Cirabas at evening. Gold banners hung down either side of the entryway, the fearsome imperial manticore emblazoned on each. The soldiers positioned by the iron doors seemed to just be for show. Nobody asked their business or gave them more than a cursory glance.

Kenna's senses could barely process the world she'd entered. A thousand scents drifted through the air: spiced street foods, human waste, butchers, flowers... together it made a perfume that was at turns noxious and inviting.

The noises were no easier to parse. She heard blacksmiths hammering, merchants yelling, women shouting at children, and street performers singing and drawing laughter from the crowds.

Kenna was overwhelmed, but Gowain seemed entirely unbothered and unimpressed. The masses of people parted around their horse. He kept his arm tight around her waist, and she clung to it.

A beggar grabbed at her skirts; a child ran alongside their horse and tried to sell Gowain a little yellow flower for his lady. When they turned off the broad central avenue, Kenna thought she saw a man point at them, whisper something to a companion, and vanish into the crowd.

"People were staring," Kenna tried to tell Gowain. They were on a smaller street now, nearly empty compared to the bustling district they'd passed through.

"You get used to it," Gowain said. He led them down another turn, to a street that was empty and overhung with gnarled trees. They entered the yard of an inn. Its resounding quiet felt like nothing short of sanctuary.

It was a nicer establishment than the inn they had lived at for nearly two weeks. The yard was paved in broad, flat stones, and swept clean. A row of manicured shrubs isolated the small stable from the tailor-shop next door. Gowain dropped down off the horse and helped Kenna dismount. A stable hand emerged immediately to bow and take the horse.

The inside of the inn was well-decorated, the wooden floors covered in plush rugs. Of the five tables in the common room, only two were occupied.

"Wait here a moment," Gowain murmured to her. The warrior went to speak to the innkeeper alone. After a moment of quiet conversation the innkeeper bowed and vanished, and Gowain beckoned Kenna to his side. He indicated a table, and they sat. She peered all around, admiring the paintings on the walls.

"You've been here before?" she asked.

"Yes, but just to eat. Not to spend the night."

"Heavens," she murmured. "You're sure we can pay for it?"

"Kenna, you needn't worry so much," he said. "Just trust me."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing. In any case, enjoy it. It'll be another week of travel until we reach the next city with such amenities. I've ordered a bath, after we've eaten--a real soaking tub, not a wash-bowl." He gazed dreamily off into the distance. "Luxuries like that, we don't get at home."

The drought, she remembered. He was talking about his people's drought.

The innkeeper returned with a bottle of wine and two cups. Gowain poured for them both. It was sweet and almost thick and made her head spin nearly immediately. Before long bread and oil was brought to the table, and a few minutes later, a plate of sheep's cheeses.

"This is good," she said, and took a gulp of the wine.

"Easy," Gowain said with a smile. "You aren't used to drink, are you?"

"It was forbidden," she informed him. "But we had it, sometimes, snuck from the village."

He put his hand on her wrist and gently steered her cup back down to the table.

"Eat," Gowain urged her. "Before you drink any more."

She followed his command. Nonetheless, by the time a roasted spice-rubbed fish, short grains studded with nuts, and a platter of oily, herbed vegetables appeared at their table, Kenna could barely think straight.

"Does everyone here eat this well?" she asked.

"Of course not," he admitted. "But I think we earned it. Wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," Kenna said. She took a deep breath and suddenly felt the overwhelming need to spill her heart. "Gowain. Thank you for taking me with you. When you ran."

He studied her levelly, his sharp jaw propped up on one large fist.

"I could hardly leave you there," he murmured, and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Never mind the fact you looked in need of rescuing--I already couldn't get you off my mind."

"You don't mean that," she whispered. Their faces were close together, their chairs side by side. She gazed into his golden brown eyes, and felt like she was drowning in him. Kenna moved her face closer to his, her lips hovering an inch from his mouth.

"I think I do," Gowain breathed. "Kenna. You're gorgeous, and generous, and shockingly sharp for a woman who spent her whole life in a place like that. The truth is, I..."

Just then the door to the inn swung open again, and two men stooped in under the doorframe. One was short, with a mess of brown hair, and dressed in elaborate finery. The other was tall, muscular, and bald; he wore coarse leather armor and a sword at his hip.

"It is him," the showy brunette exclaimed cheerfully. He approached the table while the bald man hung back, at the door.

Kenna watched Gowain's expression fall, then slide back into place. He moved away from Kenna and sighed as the man approached.

The stranger bowed, then straightened. He grinned and took one of the empty seats at the table.

"There was a bet you were dead," the stranger drawled. "When I heard you'd been seen, I thought for sure it was a false rumor. Oh, I am delighted to see you, but you've cost me a pretty bit of aurels all the same."

"Edgin," Gowain said in a steely, even tone. "I'm not in want of company."

"No, indeed," said Edgin with a sharp laugh. "You seem to have some already. I didn't know you had a taste for village girls."

Kenna flushed and glanced at Gowain. His expression was unwavering and cool, but she noticed a muscle in his jaw tighten.

"You overstep," Gowain warned. "It is none of your concern who I..."

"But I'm not here on my concern, am I?" continued the shorter man.

"If you could keep to yourself that you've seen me, I'd..."

"Far too late for that. He already knows," Edgin said.

"Of course he does," Gowain scowled. He slumped back in his chair, flatly glaring at Edgin.

"Who knows?" Kenna asked softly, tugging at Gowain's sleeve.

Gowain took a deep breath but said nothing. He glanced at her and then back at Edgin.

"He expects you first thing in the morning. Her, too. Enjoy your night, Gow."

The stranger knocked on the table with his knuckles, then stood in a swift motion. He ambled to the door, and the bald man followed him out.

"Gowain? Who were those people?" Kenna asked. "You didn't seem happy to see them. And who's 'he?'"

He shook his head and lifted his cup to his lips. The warrior drank deeply.

"'He' is the fucking Emperor, and 'they' are his dogs," he muttered at last. "It was a mistake to come here. We should have kept to the towns and avoided this hell-hole altogether." He brooded, glaring at an innocuous painting of a chestnut horse that hung over the unlit fireplace of the common room.

"I'm meeting the Emperor?" she said, eyes wide, and took another gulp of wine.

"Don't look so pleased," Gowain snapped.

He split the rest of the bottle between their cups and set it heavily down on the table. Kenna felt awkward and small, but she did not try to engage him in conversation. Gowain was clearly in a foul mood.

He did not say another word. They finished their drinks and retreated to their room for the night.

***

Their chamber had a washing-room with a colorful mosaic floor. A large tub, big enough for the both of them, had been filled with hot water while they ate. It still steamed lightly. A delicate metal cart stood beside it, with various soaps and bottles of washes.

Kenna dipped a finger in. The water was hot, but not scalding. She'd never had a heated bath before. She hoped it would calm Gowain's mood.

She didn't like to see him so upset. She wished she understood what was happening, so that she might soothe him or at least feel less confused.

Gowain approached her from behind and settled his hands on her waist. She didn't turn to meet him, just leaned back a little with her eyes closed. Kenna took a deep breath, breathing in steam and flowers and citrus.

"Are you still in a mood?" she whispered.

"I don't mean to be evasive," he murmured in her ear. "But my real life is complicated. The past few weeks with you have been... freeing. I'm not ready to return."

"Freeing?" she asked, with a smile. "Running for our lives, sleeping on the ground, getting shot--that's 'freeing'?"

"Yes," he said. He sighed and gripped her waist tighter. "Having only our lives to look after, and not every starving child and weeping mother and... yes, Kenna. It was freeing."

"We're a ways from Elios still, aren't we?" She hated the pain in his voice. She wished she could smooth it out of him.

"Yes, but tomorrow we face the Emperor, and that is trial enough for me. So tonight, for one last night--can I just be a warrior, and you just a woman?"

"Yes," she said, pressing her hand tenderly over his heart. "If that's what you want."

"You are what I want," he said, and dragged her dress up over her head in one smooth motion.

"Then show me," she said.

His hands explored her body, running down her arms, encircling her waist, slipping between her thighs to tease at her opening.

He picked her up in his arms then, cradling her against him, and stepped over the lip into the tub. As Gowain sat, the hot water enveloped Kenna. The wine had dulled her troubles, but as she sank into the water they seemed to disappear entirely.

She was weightless in Gowain's arms, curled up on his naked lap, utterly safe. He stroked her cheek with one wet hand and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She hoped he felt as safe as she did, though she knew there was nothing she could do to protect him.

She circled her arms around his neck as his hands began to explore her again. Gowain paused to reach for the cart, and one of the soaps sitting there. It was slick against her skin as he ran the bar over her, missing nothing. Kenna sighed in pleasure at the feeling of his hands working her body clean.

The soap slid under her breasts and over them. Down her side, around her arms, between her fingers. The back of her neck. Along her spine. He slowly spiraled his way down her legs, pausing to massage her feet before reaching out of the water to set the bar of soap back on the cart.

He moved her off his lap, so she sat against the back of the tub instead of on him. Gowain knelt in the water between her parted legs, his body hanging over hers as he pressed his lips against her mouth. Kenna bent her head back over the edge of the tub, the water lapping at her neck as his soft, full lips crushed against hers.

She could feel his rigid member prodding hungrily against her stomach.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her forward, off the back of the tub. Gowain cupped her neck and leaned her head back until her hair was wet. She sat up at his urging and watched as he reached for one of the bottles on the cart.

"I can do that myself, you know," she said. She pushed a wet strand of hair back from her face.

"That's not the point," he told her.

"When I said to show me you wanted me, I... sort of meant something different."

"What, fucking?" his voice was husky but amused.

"Well--yes."

"I intend to," he said with a chuckle. "Are you that impatient, my love?"

"I don't mean to be," Kenna admitted. But her hand found its way between his legs. She wrapped her hand around his fullness.

He groaned, his hips sliding forward to press his hard cock deeper into her grip. Her fingers formed a loose fist around his shaft, and he bobbed himself in and out of her hands, one arm wrapped around her waist.

Kenna brought her other hand to his head and tangled herself into his hair.

"I want all of you," she murmured to him.

"All of me?" he repeated, voice strained.

She tightened the hand around his shaft, sliding it up to rub her palm against his slick head.

"No one but you," she said. She couldn't miss the way his face softened, lips tilting up at the corners.

Gowain removed the wash-bottle's stopper with his teeth, spitting it on the floor.

"Don't stop," he growled when she began to pull her hands away. "Please, don't ever stop, Kenna."

Kenna obediently rubbed his length while Gowain drizzled the wash over her hair, then began to massage it into a lather against her scalp. His breath deepened, growing heavy with desire as his fingers slid slowly down her tresses.

At moments his hands paused, stilling in her hair as waves of pleasure took him. She watched as his face changed, how his eyes flickered in and out of focus as he struggled between the tightness of her grip and his desire to take care of her.

Then he leaned Kenna back and swirled the water around her hair to rinse it. She closed her eyes to keep the soap from them, but kept her hand around his cock.

Gowain's arms wrapped around her. She let go of his cock and pressed a kiss to his wet collarbone. The warrior started to lift her from the tub.

"What about you?" she said.

"No time," he growled. "I need you."

"Stop," Kenna said, and put her hand firmly on his broad, muscular chest. "We'll make time. We have all the time in the world, tonight."

He sighed and narrowed his eyes. The big warrior let Kenna push him back against the side of the tub. She straddled his legs, his ripe shaft pressing against her crotch.

She reached for the soap and began to trace it in sudsy lines across his chest. Gowain gripped her ass and ground her against him. With a hard exhale, he lifted her by the waist and then slid his finger along her entrance.

Kenna moaned, low and long. She fell forward an inch as he plunged his finger inside her, his honey-brown eyes locked on her face. She panted with each thrusting movement his arm made. Determinedly, she ran the soap over his arms as his fingers pumped in and out of her.

Then Kenna tried to pull him forward, so she could reach his back.

Gowain removed his finger and pressed his large cock against her opening instead.

"Gowain, not yet," Kenna gasped. She gripped the lip of the tub, dropping the soap on the ground as his head prodded against her lips. The bar skittered out of reach, sliding across the tiles as Kenna tilted her hips away from him.

"Please," he said.

"No."

He sat back with a groan.

"Then--then stop touching me," he said.

"But..." she drew back from him, slipping off his lap but keeping her hands on his chest. "I'm almost done. Just your hair..."

"Your damned hungry god," Gowain said. He leaned his head back, nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath.

"What?" Kenna stiffened and drew her hands away. "You mean, you feel..."

"I feel sick, with how bad I need you," Gowain said. "So if I can't have you, don't touch me. You're making it worse." He wrapped his own hands around his cock with a groan.

Kenna considered this for a moment, her heart thumping in her chest.

It was terrifying, the thought that a menacing force still lingered in Gowain. She refused to consider whether saving his life had been a bad thing: he was Gowain. He was hers and she was his.

He hadn't mentioned feeling the god since the first night that they'd talked. But then, she'd always swallowed his need eagerly; she hadn't ever pushed him off before.

Perhaps he was only feeling a natural desire, not the lingers of the god. Perhaps he was mistaking whatever bond they shared for something else, something outside of him. After all, he'd listened when she'd said no. The hungry god would never have listened. Gowain was just a man--had to be just a man. He could not possibly still be a vessel.

"You can have me," she told him. "I am yours to take, Gowain, just--can't you wait until we're out of the tub?"

"If you hurry," he rasped.

She reached for the cart and sifted through the wash bottles, looking for something for his hair. Gowain's hands reached out to find her hips and drag her back onto his lap; his cock pressed against her thigh.

His hand found her center and rubbed at her clit; her whole cunt tightened in response. Gowain started up a steady, punishing rhythm with his fingertip. She jerked involuntarily, tilting the bottle so wash oozed out of it onto the cart.

Kenna panted and drew the bottle in, pouring it shakily onto her hand.

"Forget about that," Gowain growled.

"No," Kenna said.

She pushed off him, sliding to sit beside him instead of on his lap. Gowain groaned, but she tugged at his large body until he obligingly slid forward and dipped his head back into the water. He resurfaced, and she combed her fingers through his tangles.

"Hurry," he told her as she worked the lather into his hair. "In about five seconds I'm going to pin you down and fuck you, whether there's soap left in my hair or not."

"Be patient," she urged.

"You don't make that easy," he said with a groan. "Fuck, Kenna, I feel like I'm on fire."

She tipped his head back. He closed his eyes, his dark brown hair floating through the water as Kenna ran her fingers through it.

She put her hands on his shoulders and gently pulled him back up. Water dripped down him. His long wet hair clung to his neck.

"Done?"

"Yes, done," said Kenna with a small smile.

"Good." He grabbed her around the waist and stood, lifting her out of the tub as a wave of water crashed onto the mosaic floor. Ignoring the towels that had been left for them, Gowain bore her down to the hard, wet tiles.

The mosaic was cold against her back, but Gowain's big hands were warm on her thighs. The warrior knelt between her legs and pushed them apart, his eyes wild with desire.

Kenna struggled up to her elbows as he lowered himself. He did not tease her but pressed his lips straight against her clit. Gowain groaned into her. His mouth moved against her body, kissing her and sucking lightly at her nub of pleasure.

She stared down at him, ignoring the way water beaded down her chest; the way her nipples stiffened in reaction to the cold floor, the way the hard tiles pricked against her skin. There was only Gowain, his mouth hot and hungry, as he licked her dripping slit and tightened his hands on her thighs.

If Kenna were honest, the sheer force of his desire was more arousing than his actions. His mouth felt good against her, but he was attacking her with such reckless desire that there was very little finesse to it. She had the feeling this was less about him trying to pleasure her and more about his need to devour her.

She didn't really mind. She liked the way he looked, muscular and dripping wet, eyes fixed on her cunt. She liked the way he sounded, too, choking back groans and panting between her legs. The way he moaned as his tongue dipped into her center; the way his head bent down as his lips fastened on top of her clit once again.

In that moment, Kenna had no doubt that she was the only thing in Gowain's world. The center of his entire focus. It was a good feeling.

It felt even better when he lifted himself over her body and lined his stiff cock up to her. Kenna took hold of his shaft and helped guide him inside her warmth.

They both cried out as he drove himself home. Gowain's face slackened in pleasure; he bowed his face over hers and kissed her slowly.

Then his hips began to thrust, ramming himself into her slick cunt. The floor was hard, like the stone cave where he'd first taken her. In the short time they'd traveled together, Kenna had learned to prefer the softness of beds, or even of dirt. The stiffness of the floor made each thrust inside her feel even harder.

"Slow," she begged.
<hr pg="2" />He groaned and tensed, inching out and sliding back in. With each restrained thrust the impact felt better. Kenna slid back down against the tiles. Her eyes fell shut as she moaned.

She tangled her hands into his hair and pulled his head back to hers. Their mouths connected; his breath was heavy through his nose as his lips moved against hers.

She stifled back a cry as he filled her again. Each time he did felt better; she needed him more now, needed him faster.

She ran her hands lower, nails gliding down his back until she reached his hips. Kenna pulled him roughly back into her, showing him how she wanted him.

He rammed himself in her swiftly, and Kenna arched her back with a whine. All she could think of was how good he felt. Then Gowain stopped and pushed himself up. She protested with a cry, but he lifted her legs and settled her ankles on his broad shoulders.

With his arms framing her waist, he groaned and pounded back into her.

Kenna's cries grew breathless, soundless. She bent her knees and opened for him, her body loose and pliant beneath his. The pleasure raked through her mind, leaving nothing behind.

It ended too soon. He drew out of her and spent himself on the tile floor. His seed swirled into the puddles of spilled bathwater as Kenna's legs lolled to the side. She drew a deep breath.

Her center ached with need; his absence was a bitter disappointment. Her back felt stiff from being pounded against the tiles. She sighed heavily, and looked up at her warrior.

Gowain dragged his hands through his hair and looked down at her. He was peaceful now, no longer hungry. His eyes skimmed over her naked body, lying on the cold hard ground in a puddle of cooled bathwater.

"Fuck," he murmured. "Sorry for... not getting you to the bed."

"S'okay," Kenna murmured. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes. And no. I feel satisfied, but..." He frowned and took hold of one of her knees, rubbing his thumb against her skin. "Kenna? Did I make you cum?"

"No," she admitted.

He made a disgruntled noise, halfway between a sigh and a groan. Then he stood, dragging her up with him. Gowain grabbed one of the towels and began to rub it against her. The plush fabric felt luxurious against her damp skin.

As he toweled her pert breasts dry, she bit back a moan. Her nipples felt far too sensitive. She found herself wishing he would linger, but his pace was businesslike. He finished with her and swiftly toweled himself, roughing over his hair and mopping the rest of his dripping wet body as dry as he could.

She squeezed her thighs together, desperate for friction.

Then Gowain swept her off the floor, into his naked arms, and strode out of the wash-room.

"Wait," she yelped when he moved to put her onto the room's large bed. "We'll get it wet. My hair..."

"So? I want you comfortable."

"The floor is fine, Gowain, really."

He hesitated, peering down at her. Then, with a sigh, he set her down. Her feet sunk into the soft plush rug: a pleasant change from the tile.

He couldn't help but lightly pinch her breast. She tried to catch his hand and hold it in place, but he pulled himself free. Gowain strode to the bed, grabbed one of the pillows from it, and tossed it onto the ground. There was a chest by the window; he found spare blankets in it and spread one out by the pillow.

"What are you doing?" she asked, fighting back a smile.

"Come lie down," he said. He stretched out on the blanket, arranged the pillow beside him, and gazed up at her.

Her breath caught as she looked down at him. His cock wasn't hard again yet, but the rest of his body was enticement enough. His honeyed eyes regarded her with open lust. His muscular body was an invitation.

She lowered herself and crawled to him; he pulled her up into his arms and lay her back with her head on the pillow.

"You know, I'm not some fine lady just because we're staying at a place like this," Kenna chuckled.

"So?" he asked, bending to kiss one breast, then the other.

"So, you're coddling me."

"If you think this is coddling, Kenna, you're in for a surprise."

"Well, whatever it is, I don't want you apologizing for having me on the floor, or insisting on pillows, or whatever madness you dream up next."

"Would you prefer to do this in the washroom, then?"

"Well, no, but that's not..." she trailed off.

He drew his head back from her with a smirk. His fingers skimmed down her body and nestled between her legs. Gowain stared openly at her as he played against her clit. Kenna leaned her head against his chest, her breath hitching as he dipped two fingers inside her.

His hands felt good, but too delicate after the raw power of him fucking her. The pleasure was distant, muffled. A nice feeling, but not something that was going to make her cum. Except...

It heightened as he kept going, and before long she was moaning and rocking herself against him. Kenna spread her legs wide and twisted her chest against Gowain, her head resting on the pillow but nestled against his chest.

Her hands searched for something to hold as pleasure coursed through her. One hand found the foot of the bed. Her other hand curled against his chest, butting against her chin and clawing at the big man.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. Gowain's own breath sounded ragged as he watched her every movement. Her toes curled and she panted heavily.

His fingers were slick with her. Kenna's arousal coated the inside of her thighs and dripped down to wet the rug.

"I need you," she moaned.

"I'm here," he rasped back. He arched over her, bending to suck on one of her stiff nipples as Kenna let her head loll back. She whimpered, then cried out as he pushed faster against her clit.

"Right there, don't stop," she begged. He kept the pace steady with his hand. His lips found her neck for a moment; then he stretched out beside her again, pulling her head against his chest once more.

The rhythm of his hand was insistent and fast, but his touch was carefully gentle as he brought her to cum. Her whole body tightened as a wave of bliss erased her mind and ebbed away.

When she was done, she pushed his hand wordlessly away and curled against him. He held her tight, listening to her rapid heartbeat and labored breathing.

"I think we made a mess in the washroom," she whispered at last.

"Was it alright? I could barely control myself."

"More'n alright," she murmured. Her whole body felt loose and relaxed; everywhere he touched her was a welcome warmth that made her chest ache in an unfamiliar, painful happiness. She smiled as his hand stroked down her back. "You don't feel--another presence now, do you?"

"No, Kenna. Just me."

"Good," she said, and yawned. "You'll let me know, if it happens again--?"

He agreed, but she did not hear. Kenna had drifted asleep, lulled by wine and her release. She woke briefly when Gowain lifted her and tucked her into the bed, and drifted back to sleep as he pulled her back against him.

***

They rode right up to the palace, through five separate gates. At each one the soldiers bowed to Gowain.

"Now will you tell me who you are?" Kenna whispered, as they dismounted. Her hands were beginning to shake.

She had a bad feeling, and too many oddities to piece together. The inn they'd stayed at without coin. The man who'd come to summon him to the Emperor. The deference the soldiers showed at the mere sight of Gowain's face.

He didn't answer her question.

"Thank you for letting me escape my life, for a little while. I promise we'll be back on the road as soon as we may," was all Gowain said. He steered her in through the great doors of the palace with his hand on her lower back. He pressed his lips for one fleeting moment against her forehead, and then he moved away from her.

"This way, mistress," said a soft voice. The woman in front of Kenna curtseyed and gestured down the hall. She looked over her shoulder; Gowain was walking away from her.

"Gowain? Where am I going?" Kenna asked nervously.

He didn't answer. The response came, instead, from the woman in front of her.

"To be prepared, mistress."

"For what?" Kenna asked.

"To meet his Imperial Majesty," said the woman softly. She was tall and slender, with a long dress that covered up to her neck and down to her wrists and ankles. Her blonde hair was braided tightly around her head. Kenna followed her with a feeling of growing unease.

There was so much to look at. Every inch of the palace was a work of art. Kenna tripped over her own feet before she got a grip on herself and remembered to watch where she was walking.

She was taken to a small chamber. Windows marched along one wall, spilling sunlight into it. Rows of closets lined the other walls, and a little table in the middle of the room held various brushes and powders for beauty. Another woman, similarly dressed, waited inside.

Both serving women gave Kenna a brief assessing look. Then one went to the furthest closet and opened it, revealing rows of gowns. She thumbed through them, glanced back at Kenna, and at last drew out a blue silk dress with little birds embroidered around the scooped neckline.

"Yes," said the other woman. "That will suit nicely."

Kenna raised her arms as they drew her stained dress off of her. She tried to cover her nakedness, but the women continued as if they had not noticed her awkwardness.

They dressed her in a thin shift, and then the elaborate silk gown. Kenna ran her fingers over her stomach; she'd never worn a fabric so fine. Swiftly it was cinched tight against her body, revealing every curve, swell, and dip of her small frame. One of the women pushed her gently down into a chair and began to paint her face, while the other brushed her hair and braided it back.

"Is this really necessary?" Kenna asked. She knew she didn't belong in clothes like this.

"Pardon my boldness," the woman fixing her hair responded, "but your dress was not... fit for his audience."

Kenna blushed. She supposed it made a sort of sense, if she was really to meet the golden Emperor, but she couldn't imagine what such a man would want with her in the first place. Even if Gowain was--someone important, a strange enough thought on its own--she certainly was not.

Then the women dabbed perfume on each of Kenna's wrists, and at the base of her neck. Kenna lifted a wrist to her nose and inhaled delicate rose and cedar.

Thin cloth slippers were tied over her calloused feet. They matched the golden color of the embroidered birds.

"This way, mistress," the first serving woman said. She curtseyed again, and Kenna followed her uncertainly out of the room. Kenna couldn't stop touching her arms and her stomach, feeling the luxurious fabric. She felt like a princess.

They went down one long hall, and into another. Up a staircase, and then another hall. Then up a curving stair that seemed to last forever, higher and higher, spiraling up into one of the many towers of the massive palace. Kenna's thighs ached as she climbed.

At last the serving woman pushed open a heavy oak door, whose surface was carved to depict a tangle of wolves and flowers. She curtseyed in the open doorway and stepped aside so that Kenna could enter.

Slowly, Kenna stepped into the room.

***

The curving walls of the tower chamber were studded with arched windows, inset with expensive colorful glass that made the room cheery. A bookshelf rose between each window. The floor had a woven rug as brightly colored as the panes of glass. The room seemed homely compared to the rest of the palace. Lived in and inviting, in a way that the gilded hallways had not.

There was a low table in the center of the room, with cushions around it for seats. There were two men in the room: Gowain, and a stranger.

Gowain sat on the near side of the table, his back to her. He glanced at Kenna as she entered, his face cold and purposefully expressionless. The blank look did not quite erase the worry in his eyes.

He'd been changed into new clothes, too. He wore a dark, high-necked tunic that hugged his muscular chest. Its flowing sleeves tapered back in at the wrist. His long dark hair was combed free of knots and gathered back at the base of his neck. His worn breeches and shoes had been traded for close-tailored cream trousers and high riding boots.

He was as handsome as ever, but the finery made Gowain look like a different man than the one she had run away with. Then again, Kenna thought, she looked like a different person too. Gowain was still Gowain--whoever that was.

The man on the other side of the low table put them both to shame.

He was as beautiful as he was handsome, with a strong jaw and full lips. His eyes were as clear blue as an icy lake, his cheeks high and prominent. His golden hair spilled in careless waves to his broad shoulders. He looked to be no older than his mid-twenties.

He was built along the same lines as Gowain, but not quite so densely muscled. He lounged in a relaxed pose, one knee up and one leg stretched out. He leaned on one hand. His other rested on the raised knee.

His tunic was cut the same was as Gowain's, but matched the peerless blue of his eyes.

A slow smile broke over the blonde man's face as he looked Kenna up and down.

"Curtsey, Kenna," Gowain murmured softly.

Kenna tried, and wobbled. She had never learned.

"Ah, cousin," said the blonde man with a sigh. "No wonder you dragged her along. Come here, woman."

Cousin. Was that a mere term of endearment, or a fact? Kenna's hands shook; her heart thumped wildly. The dress was uncomfortably tight on her chest, lending to the feeling that she could not breath.

She took a small step forward, then another. The gorgeous blonde beckoned, and she stepped closer still. She did not look at Gowain, though she could feel his eyes boring into her.

She had the uncomfortable feeling that Gowain was still a perfect stranger. That the reality of his life was an even greater shock than learning that he spoke her tongue had been.

At last she hovered at the edge of the table, a foot from where the blonde man lounged. He reached up and took her hand.

"Sit," he said.

Kenna lowered herself on the ground, gazing at her knees to avoid staring at his sculpted face.

The man held on to her hand and turned to Gowain.

"The whole story now, if you please," he said. "Your men crawled back here like they'd been through hell. Half said you were dead, and half swore captured."

Gowain sighed and crooked his neck back. He licked his lips.

"Captured. We were doing well enough in the isles, 'till we were outflanked by--well. What matters is, we lost, and they dragged me to some forsaken monastery in the woods," he said.

"Whatever for?"

"Some sort of ritual, in a cave."

Why was he telling this stranger about that? It was sacred, and beyond secret.

Panic jolted through Kenna. She jerked her hand away, but the blond man tightened his grip until his hand felt like a shackle.

"None of that," he told her in his low musical voice, his pleasant face betraying no cruelty.

"But these things are not to be spoken of," Kenna said. "Please, you don't understand. The hungry god..."

"Hungry god?" The blonde man straightened with a laugh, still holding tightly to her hand. "But that's pagan nonsense." He gave her another assessing look, his face tilted to one side. "Go on, Gowain. So pagans captured you? What were you, some sacrificial lamb?"

"...of a sort," Gowain said uncomfortably, averting his gaze.

"Of what sort, pray tell?"

"They gave me a drug. And there were women, chained in the cave...."

The blonde man blinked. He let go of Kenna's hand and pointed at her. Gowain nodded.

The blonde man chuckled. He clapped a hand over his mouth and threw his head back, then laughed and laced his fingers back in with Kenna's. She gave Gowain a worried look, but his palms were flat on his knees. He stared straight ahead at nothing, and said nothing, and did not meet her gaze.

"That's too good," said the blonde man. "A sex cult? Oh, Gowain. You got captured by a pagan sex cult. Tell me," his eyes lit on Kenna. "Did you capture men often, and make them play this game? How many have you had? Did you pretend to struggle?"

Kenna flinched. The idea that it was some sort of game was almost worse than revealing all the monastery's secrets. It was as deep an insult as anything she'd ever felt. It had been her life, her purpose. The ultimate sacrifice. Not a game.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "I never... we only performed the ritual once a year, and it wasn't a game. And we had to be virgins, so I... I'd never... I'm not..."

The blond man let go of her hand sat upright, settling his elbows on the table with his chin on his hands.

"Fascinating," he said, peering at Gowain. "And this drug, what did it do?"

Gowain hesitated. His eyes flicked to Kenna, then out one of the windows.

"It made it so I couldn't stop. I was mindless, but for..." he cleared his throat, his confidence fading as he glanced at the blonde man, then back away. "...but for my... ah... my cock."

"Couldn't stop? What, after you came? You just kept going?" Unlike Gowain, the blonde did not seem at all embarrassed by this turn of conversation.

Gowain scratched his neck, then folded his hands in his lap.

"...Well. Yes. I was hard for hours. All I could do was fuck."

"How is it made?" The blonde asked, turning to Kenna again.

"...But that's not what it does," Kenna insisted, indignant. "It made him mindless so the god could enter him. It lets gods or spirits in. It's not for, for sex. That's just what the god wanted."

"Oh, little pagan," said the blonde man. "There are no gods, there are only men. I ask you again, do you know how it's made?"

She flushed and looked down at the floor.

"Kenna." That was Gowain. "If you know, you must tell him."

"I won't," said Kenna stubbornly. "It's dangerous."

"He's the Emperor, Kenna," Gowain said again, softly. "You cannot refuse him."

Her eyes snapped up. She'd already guessed, but it was different to be told aloud than just to suspect it.

The Thronden Emperor, the most powerful man in the known world, regarded her evenly. His mouth curled up at one corner.

"I know the ingredients," she relented at last. "I'm not positive how to mix them."

"A simple matter, I'm sure," said the Emperor, rubbing his thumb along her hand.

"Well, good. I'd quite like to try this game you pagans played. Gowain, you'll have to give me Kenna."

Give me? Kenna's heart skipped a beat. She stared at Gowain, wide-eyed.

Gowain's hands curled into fists. He glared at the floor, then slowly dragged his hands up to meet the Emperor's lazy gaze. The Emperor smirked.

"She's mine," Gowain whispered. "Not her, Arthos. Please."

"Don't be childish," said the Emperor. "I'll pay, of course. All that you need. Far more than she's worth."

Kenna felt like she was falling away from her body. She wasn't anyone's possession, was she? How could she be bought and bartered? And why was the Emperor asking Gowain, rather than asking her? And why was Gowain saying please instead of just no?

Gowain sighed and turned away, staring out one of the windows. He shook his head, his jaw tight and teeth clenched.

"You can't pretend you don't need to the coin," said the Emperor. "Your little raid failed, and your people are still hungry. Are you telling me you'd rather have riots and starvation on your hands than part with this chit?"

"The drought..." Gowain started to say.

"Yes, the drought, the damned cursed drought," the Emperor said, rolling his eyes. "Do you want the money for grain, or not? You once told me you would do anything, Gowain. Well, I've picked my price. So prove it."

"Won't you take another?" Gowain asked, his voice hoarse. "Any woman in Elios."
<hr pg="3" />"Not when you so clearly want this one," said the Emperor. "Did you think it would escape my notice that my cousin spent two weeks in a town a day's ride from here, living out of a ratshit tavern like some poor bastard? It's obvious she means something to you. And you have nothing else left to bargain with. So do you want my help or not, Gowain?"

The Emperor pulled Kenna forward, and pressed his mouth against her hand. Her skin prickled where his full lips brushed her skin. She could not deny her physical attraction to him, but he made her skin crawl nonetheless.

The Emperor's glacial blue eyes were still fixed on his cousin, even as his lips trailed up Kenna's hand and onto her wrist. There was a long pause. Gowain raised a large hand to his mouth and pressed his fingers against his lips, eyes closed. His shoulders trembled slightly, the movement barely visible.

"They're your people too, Arthos," Gowain said at last. His voice was ragged now. "It would be so easy for you to help me. Meaningless, to you."

"Calm down," said the Emperor, lifting his mouth away from Kenna. "I just offered you salvation for the cost of an unmannered pagan bitch. You should be grateful."

Kenna gasped. The blue eyes flickered back to her, his expression no longer soft and pleasant.

"I won't," Gowain said hoarsely. "I won't trade her life. I'll find another way. Elios does not want your help, as it clearly does not have your friendship."

"Fine," said the Emperor. "Then watch your people starve, and know you could have saved them. Enjoy your pagan whore and your pathetic little province. You may both leave."

Gowain stood, his face flickering between fury and an expressionless mask. Kenna stared in shock between the two men, unable to make sense of what had just happened.

"Curtsey, Kenna," Gowain growled, as his own back bent in a bow. The Emperor watched coldly as Kenna bent her knees, her motion just as awkward and wobbly as the first attempt had been. Then Gowain's hand was on her lower back, steering her swiftly out of the room.

She could feel the Emperor's icy eyes boring into her back as Gowain herded her onto the stairs. She stumbled down, grabbing for the handrail, but Gowain kept his hand on her back and kept her moving.

Watch your people starve.

The words rang in her ears.

She had lived her entire life to save people from the hungry god. And Gowain had made no secret of his own duties. He'd crossed a continent to a battle he could not win to save his home.

What was one more sacrifice? Wasn't that love, after all?

She froze at the bottom of the steps, her hand tight on the railing, her heart beating fast.

"Wait," Kenna said, her voice trembling. She turned to Gowain, peering up at him. "Gowain. You said your people were dying. Why not accept?"

"You saved my life," he said, his voice low and rough. "I won't damn you to be his whore in exchange. Come on, let's go."

"You saved mine, too," Kenna said. "And you owe your people more than you owe me."

He shook his head and clenched his fists, staring at her.

"Come," he said. "Let's leave this wretched place. No more talk of it."

"Gowain." Kenna rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his lips. He kissed back with more passion than she'd given, his lips hard against hers.

Gowain--prince of some distant imperial province. The golden Emperor's cousin.

She could have no place in the life of a man like that. He would grow tired of her, surely, if they continued on as they had. She was not some fine lady.

She had only ever been an offering, to appease a great power.

It was all she knew how to be. So she would do this one thing for him, the one thing she knew how to do. And it would be a pleasure, to ease some of Gowain's burden.

Kenna turned and began to walk back up the stairs.

"Kenna!" he said, grabbing her wrist. "You can't go back up there."

"Don't try to stop me," Kenna whispered to him. "I've never chosen my own life. Now I am." She tenderly peeled his hand off her wrist as Gowain stared in horror, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

"Kenna, I... no."

"I just want to talk to him," she said.

"No. Don't..." his eyes were wide, his voice choked. He grabbed her wrist again, so tight it almost hurt.

"Let go," she said.

"Don't do this. I forbid it."

"Am I your belonging, then?" she said softly. "Let me help you, Gowain. This is my choice."

He stared as she walked back up the stairs. The elaborate wolf-and-flower door was shut firmly closed. Kenna knocked lightly. After a moment a serving woman opened it and stared blankly at her.

"I'd like to speak to the Emperor," Kenna said, her head high.

"Let her in," the Emperor said. The door opened wider and Kenna caught view of the handsome blonde, still lounging on the far side of the table. He had a book open in one hand. He looked at her with raised eyebrows and a faint smile.

"Sir," Kenna said, attempting another curtsey.

"It's Imperial Majesty, actually," he said, leaning forward. "How curious. Why are you back? Have you come to beg me on Gowain's behalf?" He closed the book, holding his place with a finger.

"No. Not quite." She paused, uncertain how to address a man like him. Kenna drew her shoulders in and buried her hands in her skirts.

"Be forthright. I haven't got the time to play with you," the Emperor instructed.

"You bargained with the wrong person," Kenna said at last.

"Did I?"

"You asked Gowain to give me to you. But I am my own to give. If you will help Gowain's people, all of them, you may have me."

He chuckled and stood, setting the book aside altogether. He was as tall as Gowain, and she found herself flinching back as he strolled to her. The Emperor took her chin in one large, cool hand, his icy eyes inspecting hers. She could smell his natural scent, which itself was like an aphrodisiac. The smell of man, layered with tangs of citrus and leather.

He was by far the prettiest man she'd ever seen. In sheer handsomeness Gowain gave his cousin competition, but Kenna had not known a man could be as pretty as the Emperor was. The family resemblance was there now that she looked for it. They had the same cheekbones, full lips, and sharp jawline. But while Gowain's face held rugged warmth, the Emperor's had only cold and perfect beauty.

"Bold little thing, aren't you? But you aren't from Elios." He turned her face from one side to the other, considering her. His grip on her chin was somehow firm but gentle at the same time; not tight, but unyielding.

"No, si--Imperial Majesty."

"Not from Thronden, at all. You're from the untamed north." He dropped his hand, releasing her chin.

"Yes," she agreed, her voice quivering. She lifted a hand to touch where his fingers had been.

"Why this, then? Why trade yourself for another's profit?"

"Because people are dying," Kenna said.

"People die every day," he said.

"Shame on you," Kenna said.

"Careful," the Emperor drawled, his voice like silk draped over a sword. There was a sharpness there. "You are not equipped to play the game you're playing, little pagan."

She fell silent; he was right. She could hardly win by threatening the most powerful man in the known world.

A moment paused. His eyes bore into hers. It was an overwhelming experience for Kenna. Her knees felt weak, and her heart thumped rapidly in her chest. She felt like a cornered deer, too frightened to flee the very trap she had walked into.

But then the Emperor spoke and turned all her expectations on her head.

"You are admirable indeed, but I'm not interested," he said, smiling and taking a step back.

"What? But you offered Gowain..."

"I only wanted to push him, to see if he would break," the Emperor said simply. "Frankly, you have no idea what you're offering."

She frowned. That seemed a heartless game for cousins to play.

"Don't I?" she asked.

"I sincerely doubt it," he said with a small smile. "Considering you said you were a virgin some scant weeks ago. I am a man with difficult desires to satisfy."

"I know a thing or two about that," Kenna said softly.

"You only think you do," he informed her. "I am not a gentle man, darling. I have even been called cruel. Now see yourself out, little pagan."

"I've been chained up before," Kenna said, her chin high even though her hands were trembling.

He laughed sharply.

"So you have. And you think it means you are ready for me?"

"If you ensure his people are fed, you can do what you like to me."

"Do you know how many people live in Elios, little pagan? You aren't worth a tenth the price," he said. "Gowain will need a king's ransom to feed them all."

"You offered it to Gowain," she said.

"Yes, and he is a Prince. He can command a sum like that. You are just a little pagan trying to play hero....But I'll admit, I do like hearing you beg."

"Then will you accept? Please?" she said, her throat dry. She blinked at him, trying to keep her eyes steady and firm even though her hands were trembling.

"And what if you change your mind?" he asked. "What if you find my demands too... difficult, for a delicate little thing like you to stomach?"

"I won't," she insisted.

"I think you will," he said. "So how about this: we will have a wager. If you win, Gowain gets his money all at once, and you can go free untouched. Chase after him if you like. Follow him all the way to that forsaken, barren hell-hole he calls a home. Maybe he'll even make you his princess." The Emperor chuckled at that thought.

"I suppose it'll be a game you're good at. One you're bound to win," Kenna said, folding her arms.

He smirked.

"Good at, naturally," he murmured. "But earned victory is sweeter than an inevitable win." Now his lips were but an inch from her own. He breath caught in her throat. Was he going to kiss her? But the Emperor only kept talking. "When I fuck you, I'd rather you know you had victory within reach, and yet you failed. Well?"

A shiver ran up her spine. She pressed her thighs together and closed her eyes.

What's wrong with me, that he threatens me, and I want to moan? Kenna thought.

But she felt a need in her, a need like a... A hunger. That was an unpleasant thought, and one she couldn't bring herself explore just then.

"And if I lose?" she asked at last. "You take me and Elios still starves?"

The Emperor reached out to her, dragging his finger down the swell of her chest and pausing at her cinched narrow waist.

"If you lose, you may still work to earn the money he needs."

"How?"

"You will submit to me and become my willing plaything, of course." His tone was gentle, almost musical.

"Plaything?" Kenna said under her breath. She blushed.

"Plaything," he agreed. He leaned forward, into her ear, to whisper: "and I do not play gently with my toys. I will not pay you if you cannot keep up with my demands."

"Forever?" she asked.

"No. Only for so long as you can hold my attention, and so long as you remain willing. My whore, little pagan, not my slave--you will be free to leave, but there will be no money to Elios if you will not spread your pretty legs."

"How long... would it take? To fix his drought?"

"Hm. Every time I bed you, your little Prince will have another thousand aurels... and the knowledge that I fucked his darling pagan."

"That's a fortune," Kenna whispered, her eyes wide. She did not need to know much about money to know how enormous of a sum it was. She'd found just less than one aurel in the soldier's saddlebags.

This would take no time at all, Kenna thought.

"Not for what he needs," the Emperor informed her. "He needs many, many times that. Perhaps a year of whoring, perhaps more."

The idea of being his plaything was frightening, but scarier still was her reaction to it.

She could not help but be curious what sorts of things Gowain's icy cousin might require of her.

That should not excite me, she thought desperately, sternly, biting the inside of her cheek. I should want to get as far away from this man as possible. Gowain hates him, and that should be enough for me. Even if he does make my knees weak.

She was glad that Gowain could not read her mind. She wouldn't like him to know she had thoughts like that. Kenna couldn't be sure whether she loved Gowain, but she felt something for him; something powerful. Powerful enough that she would do anything to help him, even sell herself to a cruel man who wanted to make her a plaything. Even if it made Gowain hate her, she wanted to help him.

She had no business wondering if the family resemblance applied to more than their faces--but there the thought was, nonetheless.

"Two thousand aurels, for each lay. Not one," she said.

"You don't get to bargain with me, little pagan. Accept my offer or walk away." His tone was flat and cold. It did not invite a retort.

"...And this game, that we are to play. What is it?" she said, averting her eyes from his captivating gaze.

"Huntsman."

"And how does it..."

"You run for your freedom, and I chase you until time runs out."

Kenna gulped. If she got away, she could return to Gowain and give his people everything they needed. That was a slim hope, but one worth gambling on.

"And if you catch me? If I lose?" she whispered. "Then I just become your whore?"

"Like any hunting trophy, you'll be mounted and stuffed." The corner of his lips curled up at this crude joke.

"I don't see I have a choice," she breathed. "I'll play your game."

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. Kenna's heart thumped erratically as her chest crushed against his torso. Thinner than Gowain, but still wrought with muscle. If Gowain was built like a warhorse, his imperial cousin was a racer. She could feel the hard iron bulge of his cock.

He was excited by this talk.

The golden Emperor pressed his lips against hers, then gently closed his teeth around her bottom lip.

Kenna whimpered. He pulled his teeth away and hovered his mouth next to her ear.

"Remember, Kenna. If you lose and you want the coin, you must be willing in every way. No matter what I ask of you, what I call you, how I treat you. If you cannot do that, I suggest you run very, very hard, or the people of Elios shall have no help from me at all."

He let go of her and stepped back. She stumbled forward. She had not realized she was leaning against him. He chuckled.

"We start tomorrow morning. You will stay in the blue chamber until then; someone will fetch you. I suggest you rest. Win or lose... you'll need your strength."

With that, the golden Emperor of Thronden gestured to the doorway. Her head spinning, Kenna wobbled through another curtsey and retreated. As the door closed, Kenna's eyes fluttered shut. She put a hand against the wall to stabilize herself and stumbled down, after the serving woman.

She had thought Gowain might wait for her at the bottom of the stairs, but he was nowhere to be found.

