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“These new rooms are so light and airy,” said Baroness Muriel, looking around. “You’re closer to the dome here, and you can really tell. I almost wish I could have this apartment myself.”
“Then you can have it,” said Rohesia. She turned and called out to some passing servants, “No, not in there. All the trunks of King Edwin and Princess Alice will go in my room.”
“There’s really no need for that,” said Muriel. “The guards will take care of any intruder if the assassin should return.”
“The guards did nothing the first time around,” said the queen. “If Elwyn hadn’t been there to raise the alarm, I don’t know what might have happened.”
To Elwyn’s intense discomfort, Rohesia then gave her a tearful hug. They had shared more hugs in the last two days than in all their life up to this point, and it was getting a little embarrassing.
“Would you like me to move up here, too?” Elwyn said. She didn’t really want to leave her rooms in the royal apartments, where she’d lived quite comfortably since coming home from school. But she felt it would have been disloyal not to make the offer.
“Oh, no,” said Muriel, gently separating Elwyn from Rohesia and guiding her down the hall. “You’ll get to stay where you are, Elwyn darling. We want to keep a very, very close eye on you.”
Already Elwyn had counted more than a dozen soldiers up here on the fifth floor, with a dozen more camped out in Rohesia’s old rooms and the nursery downstairs. She didn’t recognize any of them. They were all Severnshire or Haydonshire men, and they all wore the black eagle livery of the Gramiren family.
Allegedly this move was for the royal family’s “protection,” but Rohesia wasn’t fooled, and neither was Elwyn. It couldn’t have been a clearer threat if Muriel had literally been holding a knife to her throat.
The message was simple: “Keep quiet about what you know, unless you want them to get hurt.”
Elwyn was still allowed to come and go as she pleased, though Karlina and Kevin were even more blatant in their shadowing of her. They seemed in a foul mood, too, and she wondered if they had been punished for letting her slip away with Lily.
In spite of all the excitement that followed their discovery of the assassination attempt, Elwyn still had a hard time thinking of anything except what she and Lily had been doing before that. She was surprised she hadn’t rubbed herself numb in the bath, in fact. But it never quite felt right—it never felt as good as Lily touching her. So she would always have to give up, panting and frustrated, when Phoebe came and knocked at the door to say, “My lady, are you nearly finished in there?”
To distract herself from these all-too vivid thoughts, she rearranged the furniture in her apartment. She and Phoebe and Sir Robert Tynsdale moved bureaus and wardrobes and tables in front of every door that led to the servants’ corridors or into the other section of the royal apartments. She didn’t know if she could trust all those Gramiren soldiers quartered over there, and she didn’t feel like trying to find out.
When that was done, she went down to the Palm Court, intending to have some lunch, but the first sight that met her eyes was Senator Pellus being escorted into the throne room by four guardsmen.
“I have no idea what this is all about,” the senator grumbled. “I’m a friend of Emperor Tullius, you know, and he’s going to hear about this.”
Also witnessing the scene was a group of younger courtiers, including Anne Meriwether and Pedr Byrne. It looked as if Pedr had been in the middle of entertaining them, yet again, with his story of having seen the assassin’s knife.
Elwyn walked over to them and, nodding in the direction Pellus had been taken, asked, “What’s going on there? Does anyone know?”
Anne did, of course. “My darling Broderick has summoned that senator to answer some questions about the attempt on your brother’s life. If the Immani did it, then he and that courtesan of his are suspects.”
“The Immani didn’t do it,” said Elwyn.
“Then who did?” Pedr asked.
He looked like he honestly wanted to know, but Elwyn didn’t dare tell him. In the few seconds she had spoken to Lily at the end of that night, Lily had said she had made some sort of deal with William Aitken—some sort of pact that would keep Edwin safe. And really, that was the mirror image of the unspoken deal Muriel had made with Elwyn: keep quiet, don’t tell what you know, and everyone will stay safe.
“I’m not sure,” said Elwyn, “but I know it wasn’t Lily Serrana.”
“Oh, I forgot,” chuckled Anne. “You’re friends with that woman, aren’t you?”
Elwyn tried reminding the group that Lily had been present when the assassin was stopped, but incredibly, they all thought that made Lily look more suspicious, rather than completely innocent. Elwyn’s heart sank, as the horrible realization dawned on her that Cousin Broderick’s Immani assassin story might put Lily in danger.
“We’ll know soon enough,” said Anne, her smile turning a bit nastier. “My Broderick will be keeping the senator here until the Immani government agrees to take responsibility.”
So Pellus was a hostage now. Oh, Earstien, this was bad.
“And what about Miss Serrana?” asked Elwyn, trying not to let the dread and panic creep into her voice. “Is she being brought here, too?”
“Oh, yes, as it happens,” said Anne, pointing far, far up toward the dome. “They’re being put in some old servants’ rooms way up at the top. Not very comfortable, but they’ll have a lovely view.”
Elwyn put her hands on her hips. “Well, in that case, someone should go make Miss Serrana welcome.”
A porter and a kitchen maid gave her directions as she ran upstairs, and in minutes she arrived on the sixth floor, normally reserved, as Anne said, for servants and guests the king didn’t particularly like. There were soldiers here, too, but they were royal guardsmen, and they let her through with no question. She found Lily unpacking her trunk with the help of two housemaids.
“You’re alright,” Elwyn panted, holding the stitch in her side from all those steps.
“Yes, of course I am,” said Lily, with a slightly bemused smile.
Elwyn thanked the maids and told them she would help Lily from here. When the women were gone, and the door was shut, Elwyn ran and threw herself into Lily’s arms. “I heard you and Pellus are going to be confined here now, too. Please tell me they haven’t done anything awful to you.”
Lily kissed her and said, “They haven’t done anything to me, and they probably won’t. I mean, think about it; if they torture me, I’ll tell the truth, and then where will they be?” Another, longer kiss. “No, they’re going to make me and Pellus sit up here until we rot. Or until the emperor pays Broderick enough money to let us go.”
Elwyn pulled her closer and kissed all up and down her neck. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. Her fingers found the ties at the back of Lily’s bodice, and in spite of everything, she couldn’t help smiling. “Of course, you know this means we’re under the same roof now. It could make things a lot more...convenient.”
She started undoing the laces, careful not to get them tangled, but Lily took her hands away. “This is a bad idea. I lost control before, but this is really something we shouldn’t do.”
“But I...,” Elwyn’s voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t force the words, “I love you” out.
What she eventually managed to say was, “I haven’t properly thanked you for saving my brother’s life.” She put her head down and started nibbling at the tops of Lily’s breasts.
“You...you can thank me without.... Oh, Elwyn, if you keep doing that I’m not going to be able to....” Lily sighed, and Elwyn felt a sudden release of pressure as the ties at the back of her own bodice started coming undone. “Oh, fuck it.”
This time they went a little more slowly, and there was plenty of light in the room, so they got the dresses off in less than a minute. Their shifts took a bit longer, because they kept reaching up under them, or down the front of them, or grabbing at the fabric to pull each other over to the bed. Lily laid back, pulling Elwyn down on top of her, and Elwyn tugged the neck of Lily’s shift wide open, trying to free those big, soft breasts of hers. Just as she had the linen pulled down far enough, though, there was a ripping sound.
Elwyn sat up, straddling Lily, with one end of the torn collar in her hand, and said, “Oops. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lily said. “Keep going. Rip it off. Tear the whole damn thing off. I’ve got plenty of others.”
With hands and arms honed by years of archery practice, Elwyn took hold of both sides of the tear and forced it farther and farther apart, splitting it right down the middle.
“Keep going,” said Lily, and Elwyn did the same to her underclothes. Lily let out a little moan, and then it gave way, and she was free.
Elwyn moved to the side, so she could admire all those perfect, gentle curves, those long, shapely legs. She ran her hands over the smooth, silky skin, hardly daring to believe she was doing this.
“Wait a minute,” said Lily. “I’m naked and you’re still fully dressed.”
“You can rip mine off, too,” said Elwyn.
Lily sat up and kissed her. “I’d probably better not. These things look like they cost more than every stitch I own.” She slid the shift over Elwyn’s head and carefully undid the laces of her underclothes.
“I’d give you some of mine, but I don’t think the chest cloths would fit,” said Elwyn, blushing.
“You’re perfect as you are,” said Lily. She leaned down and ran her tongue slowly around one of Elwyn’s nipples. Then she pulled Elwyn down into the bed, and they lay there, side by side. “What shall we do now?” Lily asked.
Elwyn slipped a hand between Lily’s thighs. “I was thinking we might get back to what we were doing last time, before we were interrupted.”
Lily moved her head from side to side, eyes closed, making a low, purring noise in her throat. But then she stopped and, grinning broadly, pushed Elwyn’s hand away. “Not quite yet. We’ve got plenty of time now. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She sat up. “I’m feeling very selfish right now, and there’s something I’m dying to do. We can get back to your lessons later, but right now, will you indulge me?”
“Of course,” said Elwyn, feeling a trifle nervous.
“I’m in your debt,” said Lily, sliding down the bed.
Then she moved over and knelt between Elwyn’s legs, running her fingers around and then slowly in. Elwyn could feel herself stretching a bit, but there was no pain. Lady Bianca had told her there would probably be pain, and blood, too, on her wedding night. But maybe Lily’s fingers weren’t thick enough to hurt. Or maybe Lily was a lot more gentle than most men were.
“It’s almost like this is our wedding night,” Elwyn said happily to herself, though it was still broad daylight outside. That kind of thought would probably get her sent to the Void forever, but the idea pleased her a great deal, all the same.
Lily lowered her head, and Elwyn could feel her breath, and then her tongue, moving with quick, pulsing strokes. Over and over, without stopping. Elwyn’s hips started flexing and thrusting without a conscious thought on her part, all in the same sinuous rhythm. This was what she had seen Pedr doing to Baroness Muriel, all those weeks ago. And now Lily was doing it for her. Elwyn let out a little giggle of pure, selfish glee.
The sensation started to build—that feeling Elwyn had always suspected was there. But she’d never quite been able to find it. Or she had felt guilty for wanting it. Or she had been interrupted before she could reach it. Now she knew right where it was, and Lily—beautiful, perfect Lily—was guiding her there slowly but surely.
Elwyn looked down her body and watched the movement of Lily’s head, with her long dark hair spread out over Elwyn’s waist, and then her smooth, elegant shoulders, and the deep, double curve down her back, into her narrow waist, and then back out to those round, perfect hips. Everything was moving in time, all those muscles tensing and relaxing. More than Lily’s tongue and fingers—her whole body moving together, making love to Elwyn.
She closed her eyes as the climax hit her, letting her head fall back into the pillows, stuffing her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her screams.