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Her First Knight
Book 3
Rowan’s Hammer
Chapter 1
The inn they stayed at in Hargendon was called Hilvara’s Knickers, a cheeky nod to the goddess of coin and her local temple. With the blizzard raging over the town, many travelers had been stranded at the inn, and the downstairs tavern was overcrowded with laughing men and giggling women, bearded merchants, and even some bandits and ruffians. Many of the men were drunk and lustful and wouldn’t have hesitated to accost any young maiden their eye fell upon. For this reason, Liadan warned Ava that she and Lysa should never venture downstairs into the tavern alone.
Lysa agreed with Liadan’s warnings, but Ava was desperately tired of being a good girl, doing what she was told, and living in fear. She had been a good girl for her father for twenty-two years, and what had it gotten her? Loneliness, isolation, and now banishment and exile. She wanted to have fun for once in her life, she wanted to live!
And so, the next time Rowan took night watch, Ava waited until the other knights were sleeping, and when Rowan announced that she was slipping off yet again to gamble, Ava insisted that she go with the Black Lioness. The princess was annoyed when Lysa awoke and scolded her, and not wanting them to be caught by their respective lovers, Rowan closed her large hand over Lysa’s indignant mouth and dragged the little handmaiden downstairs with them.
Downstairs, the tavern was as rowdy as ever. There were so many people in the room, the crowds were almost a blur of different hair colors and tunics. Serving wenches with trays of tankards hurried back and forth, blushing angrily when their backsides were groped by drunken men. A band played on a small stage, and some of the people were hopping and dancing, as nearby, a fire roared on the great hearth.
Lysa wiggled free of Rowan’s big hand, prying it off her mouth and glaring. “Don’t you ever manhandle me like that again!” she shrilled.
Rowan only shrugged. “You were threatening to reveal my deeds!”
“You mean your misdeeds,” said Lysa reprovingly.
Rowan made a face. “As if I needed Saoirse to close her legs to me because of your loose tongue.”
Lysa huffed and folded her arms. “You would deserve to be caught! Gambling behind her back – it's horrid!”
“Tuh. You sound like Saoirse. I shall do as I wish with my coin,” said Rowan irritably, her eyes scanning the crowds.
“It is soon to be Saoirse’s coin as well,” Lysa pointed out.
“Soon to be,” Rowan pointedly repeated. “It isn’t her coin yet.”
Lysa rolled her eyes. “We shall have one drink and then return upstairs, my princess,” she said to Ava. “It is too dangerous here!”
Ava wasn’t listening but was blushing pink as she watched a pretty blonde peasant girl dancing on a table, the top of her dress pulled down and her big breasts standing bare and free. They were magnificent breasts, wonderfully plump and large, the pink nipples hard. Ava had never before quite seen a woman with breasts as large as her own. She felt her clitoris start to pump in her smallclothes.
“Would you like to dance naked on a table?” Rowan teased Ava, having noticed her staring.
Ava blushed brighter but answered with a smile, “Perhaps.”
“Then take heed of what shall happen to you if you dare,” said Rowan, nodding at the dancing peasant girl.
As Ava watched, the dancing peasant girl shook her shoulders so that her big breasts wobbled, and the men hooted and threw coins at her feet. But – to Ava’s amazement – so did some of the women!
A towering, burly female peasant—with ripping muscles, rolled up sleeves, and dirty blonde hair—stood up, grabbed the dancing girl by her narrow waist (the dancing girl giggled in delight), and lifted her down from the table and into her arms, so that she was hugging the girl’s waist. The peasant girl squealed when the burly woman buried her face in one of her great breasts and sucked with passion. The men cheered and threw more coins (“Disgusting,” Rowan muttered), and the burly peasant sucked on, frowning as the peasant woman’s great breast rose against her face. The peasant woman, meanwhile, was gasping with pleasure, her cheeks slowly turning brighter and brighter as she was suckled.
Ava heard Lysa’s gasp, felt Lysa tugging her arm, but could not look away from what was happening. To her amazement, the burly peasant set the peasant girl on her feet and yanked on her dress, ripping it, so that it tumbled away. The peasant girl shrieked and covered her breasts – She was now standing there in nothing but her smallclothes. The burly woman grabbed the peasant woman by the waist again, sat her hard on the table (her big breasts bounced), and crammed a hand down the front of her smallclothes, fingering her roughly. As the men cheered and tossed coins, the peasant girl’s expression softened, and her head fell back as she screamed softly in bafflement and delight. The burly woman stared at her with narrowed eyes as she continued fingering her in front of everyone, hard and deep.
“Why is it disgusting?” wondered Ava, finally turning her eyes away to look at Rowan.
Rowan was sneering as she watched the peasant girl get slammed to the table by the burly woman and her smallclothes ripped away. The peasant girl’s legs were then lifted in the air and spread, and the burly woman buried her face between her thighs. The peasant girl screamed breathlessly. The men roared approval.
Rowan looked around at Ava with mild surprise, almost as if she’d forgotten the princess was there. She waved a disgusted hand at the hooting men. “This inn used to be for women alone. The men have invaded here. They come to watch us make love, as if we were their entertainment. The lechers. They can never let us have our places.” She turned her bitter eyes away, her gaze alighting on a distant table, where a group of women in leather armor sat. “There are my card friends – or foes, I suppose,” Rowan said with a smile. “I shall join them. The two of you stay out of trouble – if I am not at all naïve in thinking that possible.” And with that, Rowan made her way to the table, pushing through the laughing crowds.
Rowan’s departure was so abrupt, Ava felt a jolt of shock to realize that she was now completely on her own – completely free to do as she pleased! What should she do first? Dance before the stage? Dance on a table? Perhaps get drunk? The first and last time she was drunk, her father had punished her, and she had never been allowed to drink so heavily again. It suddenly occurred to her that, for the first time in her life, she could do whatever she wished without being confined to a tower.
“Don’t do anything rash, my princess,” Lysa begged, as if she had read Ava’s mind.
Ava made an irritated noise and ignored Lysa, instead grabbing the handmaiden’s arm with a gleeful expression. “Oh, Lysa!” she squealed. “Stop scolding and let us make merry! Haven’t you ever wanted to make merry?”
“No,” Lysa said at once.
Ava looked around. Every last table in the place was occupied and so overcrowded that people were sitting in each other’s laps for lack of chairs. “Let’s get a drink at the bar,” she said, pulling a weary Lysa after her by the arm.
The middle-aged, dark-haired woman who owned the bar was called Grainne. She was a short, slender woman with dark eyes and a long, boney nose, and like Rowan, she didn’t seem too pleased with her male customers. She polished a tankard with her apron as she eyed the men bitterly, but when Ava and Lysa sat on stools at the bar, she smiled.
“What will it be, ladies?” Grainne asked.
“Two pints of ale!” Ava said happily.
“A whole pint?!” Lysa scolded. “You’ll be drunk for sure!”
“Oh, Lysa, calm down,” sighed Ava.
Grainne smiled and served up the pints, setting them on the counter. Ava fished in her cloak for Liadan’s coin purse, which she had been careful to slip from the knight’s saddle bags before coming down to the tavern. She felt a little guilty, but Liadan had already said many times that everything she owned now belonged to Ava. Ava felt rather as if they were married and enjoyed pretending as if they were.
“That’s a lot of gold for a commoner,” said a gruff voice.
Ava glanced around and noticed a man sitting at the bar beside her, peering at her from behind strings of dirty red hair. He was young and fit, handsome and unshaven. He looked quite rough, like a bandit, for he was wearing dark leathers that were tattered, and a dagger hilt poked from his boot. Ava didn’t like the way his blue eyes leered at her. She quickly tucked Liadan’s coin purse away and could feel his eyes raking her body. It disgusted her and she held down a shiver, trying not to look afraid.
“My lady is a noblewoman of a great house,” said Lysa at once, “so you had best leave her be, if you know what’s good for you—”
“Shut up, whore,” sneered the man, though his leering eyes were fixed on Ava. “I’m talking to your ‘lady,’ not you.”
Ava scowled. “Don’t you dare speak to Lysa that way!”
The red-haired man only smiled nastily. He was hunched over his tankard, his forearms on the counter either side of it. He said not a word.
Determined to appear unafraid and unbothered, Ava primly lifted her tankard to her lips and took a drink. But she could still feel the man watching her, leering at her body. She irritably slammed the tankard down. “What do you want?” she demanded.
“You on my dick,” the man said.
Lysa gasped.
“You shut your filthy mouth!” Ava cried, appalled.
The man’s face darkened. “You’ll sit on my dick and like it, bitch,” he said in a low voice, so that Grainne couldn’t hear as she stood nearby, “or I’ll slit your throat and take that gold. You ain’t some noblewoman. You’re a whore! Look at you, all dressed up fancy! Except your gown is torn, ain’t it? And you’ve got no proper escort. Was that big red bitch you came in with your pimp or a customer? Is that her coin yer spending?”
Ava felt her cheeks growing bright with anger. She opened her mouth to snap a retort and gasped when the man grabbed her wrist, pulling her around to face him. She struggled to get free and pried at his fingers, but his hand was like iron on her arm. His other hand reached for her front laces.
“Be still now,” snarled the man. “I just wanna see the goods before I pay – or are you too high-class a whore for the likes of me?”
“Let her go!” shouted Lysa, leaping from her stool. She grabbed her tankard of ale and tossed it in the man’s face. The man, instead of releasing Ava, lifted his other hand and backslapped Lysa to the floor. Lysa fell with a cry.
“You coward!” Ava yelled, tears in her eyes, still struggling to get free. “You coward that you would strike a woman!”
“I get it now,” said the man, reaching for Ava’s laces again. “You’re too good for me, that’s what it is! You only serve the knights! Well, you’ll serve me tonight, if you know what's good for you—”
“Let go!” Ava screamed. She was struggling hard now to get away, but the man was holding tight to her wrist, and now his other hand yanked on her laces, and one of her breasts popped free. His eyes went round with delight, and the other men in the tavern hooted and cheered. Ava sobbed: everyone was watching their struggle now. Her cheeks burned with humiliation.
Across the room, Rowan had risen grimly from her chair and was reaching back for her hammer, which was sheathed on her back. Relief washed over Ava: Rowan would come and bash the man’s brains from his skull, and then no one in the tavern would ever dare accost her like this again! She looked at the man and laughed through her tears when she saw the fear in his eyes as he realized Rowan was with Ava.
“Didn’t you see her come in with me?” Ava mocked.
The man sneered, but as if he was determined to get what he wanted before he died, he reached for Ava’s exposed breast and squeezed it. Ava gasped angrily and twisted to escape his hand, and her heart beat fast with anger when the man’s eyes laughed at her, as if to say he had succeeded in violating her regardless and there was nothing – nothing—she could do. It shocked Ava when the desire to cut the man’s head off suddenly overwhelmed her, so much that she shuddered with rage.
“Nice,” the man whispered as Rowan pushed her way through the crowded tables. “Nice and firm, and fat for a skinny whore. You would have been worth the—”
Ava flinched and screamed as blood splattered her face: a sword had blossomed in the man’s chest, dripping with his blood. The blade was glowing with golden fire. The man’s eyes went wide as blood slipped dark over his bottom lip, and fire licked from his eyes and nostrils, consuming him from the inside.
Ava looked past the man and saw Liadan standing there in full armor, her face cold of emotion, her red hair tousled from her haste to reach the tavern. There was a golden fire burning in her eyes. With tight lips, she ripped the blazing sword free (the man sputtered blood) and brought it whistling around in a swift arc. The man’s head sprang off and bounced away across the floor, filling the tavern with screams as it trailed blood. The man’s body sat on the stool a moment, squirting blood from the neck, tittering on the spot, then suddenly collapsing away to fully reveal Liadan.
There was silence, and the only sound in the room was the thump of the man’s severed head as it went rolling along. One serving wench scrambled to clear the head’s path and nearly dropped her tray. Then Liadan lifted her voice and said to the room at large, “Any man who remains in this place shall likewise lose his head!”
Another pause, silence, and then the sound of scraping chairs and thumping boots as several men launched to their feet, grabbed their drunken friends, and hurried from the inn. Some glanced back in terror at Liadan, others just ran out as fast as they could, shoving others aside to get away.
Rowan had reached them at last and she was grinning. “Nice work,” she said cheerfully to Liadan, who nodded without emotion. Then Rowan knelt beside Lysa and gently woke her. Lysa moaned and sat up with Rowan’s careful help. There was a purple bruise forming on Lysa’s face where she’d been struck and another on her elbow from her hard fall to the floor.
“Nice work indeed,” said Grainne with great approval. She slid a few coins across the counter toward Liadan. “Take your coin back. If you can keep the men from coming back, I’ll pay you double that, and all drinks are on the house.”
“Our thanks, my lady,” said Rowan cheerfully and winked. Her arm was around Lysa, who was moaning in pain. Rowan carefully gathered Lysa in her arms and stood. Lysa curled against Rowan like a child, and Ava thought it was a direct reversal of the way they had entered the tavern only minutes before, with Rowan basically holding Lysa hostage as she struggled, one big hand over Lysa’s mouth. Now Lysa was cradled almost lovingly in Rowan’s arms, and Ava was surprised when Rowan even kissed her hair.
Lysa had been hurt because of Ava, because she had wanted so desperately to have fun. Ava miserably turned her eyes away from Lysa and Rowan. She looked up at Liadan, hoping for comfort, and her heart skipped a beat to see the anger in the knight’s eyes.
Liadan sheathed her glowing sword, and the magick fire left her eyes and her blade, but she looked no less terrifying. She stood there, completely still, gazing down at Ava.
“L-Liadan . . .” Ava whispered uncertainly when Liadan continued glaring down at her.
Without a word, Liadan turned and marched away up the stairs.
***
AS THE DAYS WENT BY and the blizzard raged on, Liadan continued in silence, rarely speaking to Ava, let alone touching her or kissing her. Ava soon realized they were having their first fight, and not knowing what to do, she went to Ethne for advice.
Like Rowan, Ethne loved gambling at cards. She could often be found playing cards down in the tavern or sometimes in a room with the other guests. That evening, after glancing over the downstairs tavern from the landing above and failing to spot the familiar dark brown hair and silver armor, Ava eventually found Ethne in one of the inn rooms, playing cards with Rowan. After eavesdropping outside for a moment, she realized the two were practicing hand signals so that they could cheat during card games. Holding back a laugh, Ava smiled and entered.
“Your highness! What a pleasant surprise!” said Rowan jovially.
Ava paused in the doorway and went pink: Ethne and Rowan were seated at a small table under the window, and lying over on the large bed was a completely naked young woman. Ava recognized her as one of the serving wenches from the tavern. She was small, pretty, and blonde, with shapely legs and a plump backside. She was sleeping on her belly with her cheek on her arm as evening sunlight streamed weakly through the snowfall beyond the window and over her pale skin. Her blonde hair was in her face as she dozed peacefully.
Both knights were in their underarmor and their hair was loose and tousled, as if they had recently made love to the girl. A fire was roaring on the hearth, filling the room with warmth as Ethne and Rowan continued fussing over their card game, bickering back and forth as if the woman on the great bed wasn’t even there. Ava pulled up a chair and sat with them at the small table, watching their game.
“What tidings do you bring?” Ethne asked, staring at the spread of cards before her. There were pints of ale on the table and she grabbed the nearest one and took a gulp. “Did Lysa send you to scold me for cheating at cards?”
“Or for fucking the tavern wenches?” suggested Rowan without looking up.
“No,” said Ava with a laugh. She hesitated sadly. “It’s about Liadan.”
“Ah,” said Ethne. “I expected we would have this conversation sooner or later. Liadan is angry with you, and you don’t understand why, featherhead that you are.”
“I understand why!” said Ava crossly. “She warned me about the men in the tavern, and I did not heed, and because of that, I was nearly hurt—”
“Aye,” said Ethne darkly, “and it isn’t the first time you haven’t heeded us. Back on the road, you did stray into the wood, though I warned you not to, and were nearly accosted then as well—”
“Truly? By the gods,” said Rowan in amusement. “How many times hath you put yourself in danger, Ava? Shall I have to beat the men off with my hammer?”
“Most likely,” said Ethne with a snort.
Ava frowned irritably. “I didn’t come here to be scolded.”
“Though perhaps you should be,” said Ethne, laying down a card.
“No, no, use the trick the card, the double,” Rowan complained, brushing the card away. She pulled another card from her sleeve and passed it to Ethne. It was a complete copy of the one Ethne had used, though there was a small mark on its corner.
“Why did you come, then?” said Ethne irritably to Ava. She finally lifted her slanted gray eyes from the card game and looked at Ava. She waited, and Ava resisted the urge to squirm under the knight’s intent and disapproving gaze.
“I just want Liadan to talk to me!” Ava confessed. “How are we to move past this if she shall not speak?”
Ethne smiled. “So you don’t really understand why she is angry, as I thought.” She looked away and returned her attention to the practice card game. She and Rowan leaned forward, staring critically at the card spread.
Ava folded her arms, feeling more irritable by the minute. “Then why don’t you tell me?” she said as calmly and graciously as she could. She knew Ethne was deliberately holding back, taking her time for her own amusement, and had to resist the urge to let her anger fully show. Doing so would only amuse Ethne all the more. She supposed it was her punishment for angering Liadan.
“But isn’t it obvious?” said Ethne with an incredulous laugh. “You don’t respect Liadan! It is her job as your knight to protect you, and she hath gone to great lengths to do so, even giving up her life and reputation and fleeing with you in exile! And instead of honoring that by keeping yourself safe, you hath repeatedly put yourself in danger, risking everything she hath fought for – namely your freedom.”
Ava stared glumly at the table. Perhaps she hadn’t fully understood Liadan’s anger after all. She felt like a silly, self-centered child. Perhaps that’s exactly what she was.
“You know,” said Rowan, not looking up from the practice card game, “this matter could be remedied if the princess learned to wield a blade.”
Ethne snorted. “Don’t be absurd.”
Ava scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Ethne glanced over and laughed to see Ava blushing with anger. “Don’t be angry, your highness, but to gain real skill would take months, if not years, of dedicated training. We simply don’t have that sort of time nor the proper equipment to bother with—”
“Sure, we do,” said Rowan without looking up from the card spread. She reached out, hesitated, and thoughtfully moved a card. “I’ve been training Lysa since—”
Ethne’s head snapped up. “You’ve been what?”
Rowan finally looked up and laughed at Ethne’s anger. “Saoirse and I have been training Lysa to wield a blade,” she said, unabashed when Ethne scowled. She shrugged. “The wee lass begged to learn, and there was nothing else to do, trapped as we are in this limbo. So Saoirse lent Lysa her blade, and we have been teaching her. I wanted to buy her a blade of her own from the smithy ‘round the way, but Saoirse didn’t think she was ready—”
“Of course, she isn’t!” Ethne growled, incredulous. “Lysa is a peasant! A handmaiden! Not a knight! She hath spent her life emptying chamber pots. She knows nothing of battle! It’s probably because of your foolish encouragement that she tried fighting that man and was harmed!”
Rowan’s mouth twisted irritably. “What should she have done? Sat there and allowed a man to grope Ava? She tried to protect Ava, and she was quite brave for it. I applaud her.”
“Brave and foolish,” said Ethne at once. “You shall cease your ‘training,’ and I shant hear a word more on it.”
Rowan laughed dryly. “I have a feeling Lysa won’t take kindly to being told what to do, Ethne. Especially not by the likes of you.”
“At least she’ll be alive,” Ethne said flatly and returned her attention to the practice game on the table.
Rowan sat back now, legs spread, regarding Ethne and shaking her head. “Why should it frighten you so that Lysa reaches more and more for her independence? Do you think you shall always be there to protect her? I can guarantee you will not.”
Ethne sneered. “If Lysa is harmed, I shall hold you accountable, and that very day I shall draw your blood in payment.”
Ava had the feeling Ethne was completely serious about physically harming Rowan. While Ethne and Rowan enjoyed scheming together at cards and were indeed good friends, even like sisters, mostly they seemed more like enemies than anything else. Ava had to suppose it was what it was like to have a sibling rivalry, yet one more reason she was glad to be an only child.
“You’re being ridiculous as usual,” said Rowan dismissively. The Black Lioness picked up a pair of dice with runes on them and tossed them down on the table again, as if testing how they should fall. Ava watched and realized – after the dice fell on the same rune three times – that they were loaded dice.
“I shall continue to train Lysa if it pleases her,” Rowan declared. She jerked her head at Ava. “And I shall train this one as well, if she should wish it.”
“I do not wish to be trained, Rowan. I only wish for Liadan to speak to me again,” said Ava unhappily. “I wish for her to look upon me with love, as she did before, and without such blazing anger.” Her green eyes moved to Ethne. “And Ethne, you would rant at me about respect, but you do not respect Lysa!”
“Horse shite,” said Ethne at once, looking around in amazement.
“You don’t,” Ava repeated. “She isn’t a person to you. She’s a pretty thing to protect. You treat her like a child. And you lie to her! Look at you in here,” she waved at the bed, where the young woman slept on, obvious to their bickering, “bedding tavern wenches as if it were nothing!”
Ethne tensed. “I love Lysa!” she hurled, her gray eyes flying wide. Suddenly breathless, she turned back to the card game and muttered, “I love her. You wouldn’t understand. You and Liadan were swept away the moment you met each other. Liadan did not have to get on her knees and beg for your affection! I had to make Lysa give a damn, and even then, she didn’t hesitate to bed Liadan while I was off in a jailcell about to be executed!”
“So all of this is because you’re angry with her,” said Ava, waving a hand yet again at the naked young woman sleeping on the bed.
“Perhaps,” said Ethne shortly, not looking up from the card spread. “I cannot force Lysa to care for me, and I am done trying, I think. Let her whore around if it pleases her. And I shall do the same.” She grabbed her tankard again and tossed it back for another chug.
“But she does care for you,” Ava insisted. “She wouldn’t shut up about rescuing you from Eoldbed’s Cross. Half the reason Liadan bedded her was to calm her down.” She laughed weakly, remembering.
“Please, Ava. Cease making excuses for her and speak true. Lysa bedded Liadan because her pleasure was more important than my life,” said Ethne scathingly and didn’t look up from the card game. Opposite her, Rowan looked awkward and uncomfortable.
Ava guiltily wrung her hands. Her words had struck a nerve. She hadn’t meant to upset Ethne, but then again, she hadn’t expected Ethne to care.
“Say what you want of me,” Ethne said darkly, “and then leave us. We have things to do.”
Ava was stung by Ethne’s curt command, but she answered regardless, “I want Liadan to talk to me. You understand the Wildoras culture. What do I have to say? What do I have to do?”
“Say nothing,” answered Ethne, not looking up. “The women of Wildoras do not speak when they are angry for fear of speaking words they shall regret. It is how they treat their wives, anyway. If you are truly sorry, then you will get on your knees and make it known. And then you shall not repeat the behavior.”
“And make it known?” repeated Ava, perplexed. Her large green eyes blinked.
Rowan snorted with laughter, and her hazel eyes crinkled up with mirth when she glanced up at Ava. “You truly are an innocent, pure little doe. I see we shall have to spell it out for you: get on your knees and suck Liadan’s pussy until she comes.”
Ava blushed to her hairline. Ethne and Rowan laughed and returned to their card game.
***
AFTER LEAVING ETHNE and Rowan to laugh at her naivety, Ava returned to room she shared with the group to find the others asleep there. Saoirse was sleeping on her bedroll on the floor once again, the better to be near the fire, and – to Ava’s surprise—little Lysa was in Saoirse’s bedroll with her. The Knight of the Lion was in nothing but her underarmor, and the bulge of her muscular arm could be seen as it folded protectively over Lysa, holding the smaller woman close to her chest. One of her strong hands closed over Lysa’s breast and squeezed hard as she slept. Lysa blushed and squirmed in the knight’s grasp, delighted by the groping and moaning in her sleep.
Ava stood there staring in surprise, her pink lips parted. Were Saoirse and Rowan doing more than merely “training” Lysa? But thoughts of the three having sex left her mind when she heard a moan. Ava looked around and noticed Liadan at last. The Knight of the Wild was sitting in a chair at the small table under the window, and she was in nothing but her soft underarmor. She was so large and muscular, sitting there with her legs spread, that she made the wooden chair beneath her look comically small. Her red hair was wild and loose around her shoulders, still half-plaited and dancing with curls, and Ava looked upon on her as she slept, thinking she was utterly beautiful.
Ava was not surprised to have found Liadan slumbering in a chair: since their silent argument had begun, Liadan had avoided sleeping in the bed. It was as if she no longer wished to sleep near Ava, so deeply hurt and angry was she.
The guilt stinging her chest, Ava moved quietly across the room and knelt down between Liadan’s hard thighs. Liadan snorted in her sleep but otherwise didn’t stir. Ava smiled and reached for the bottom half of Liadan’s underarmor. She managed to loosen the hose with the side laces, and as she tugged it down, the inevitable happened: Liadan’s blue eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at Ava in surprise.
Ava froze, heart beating fast, half-expecting that Liadan would grow angry and push her away. But Liadan remained completely still, and there was no anger in her eyes, only softness . . . and sadness. Ava wanted to apologize, but remembering that Ethne had told her that she should “say nothing,” Ava dropped her eyes instead and continued tugging down Liadan’s hose, until she had pulled away the knight’s smallclothes, revealing the curly nest of red hair between Liadan’s thighs.
Ava paused, thinking Liadan’s sex was pretty to look at: soft pink lips swathed in curly red hair . . . and a fat clitoris peeping from the hair at the crown of the lips.
Kneeling there and gazing with longing at Liadan’s sex, Ava realized she had only ever pleased the knight once before, that Liadan had mostly pleased her, and that she didn’t really know how to please a woman. She suddenly felt nervous, and butterflies rose in her stomach.
As if to comfort Ava, Liadan’s strong hand cupped her cheek, and the Knight of the Wild stared down at her with soft eyes. There it was, Ava thought. There was the soft, loving gaze she had missed so desperately over the last few days. Her nervousness left her, and she leaned forward between Liadan’s thighs and sucked long and slow on the lips of her sex.
Ava immediately felt her clitoris pumping. It felt good to suck on Liadan’s sex. Liadan tasted salty with faint sweat, and yet, her fluids were sweet, and the brush of her soft red hair pleasant. Ava nuzzled her nose in the hair, happily inhaling the strong, musky scent, and plunging her eager tongue between the lips of Liadan’s sex. She was proud of herself when Liadan’s strong thighs tensed, when Liadan moaned softly in her arousal. When she glanced up, Liadan was looking down at her, her brows pinched and suffering, her cheeks slightly pink.
Holding back a smile, Ava closed her eyes and continued, and she felt herself growing moist as she did. Liadan’s hot sex crushed against her mouth as she slid her tongue in – gently, slowly. She took her time, as if she were eating something delicious and sweet, and hell, . . . she was.
Ava hesitated and sucked on Liadan’s clitoris next, and the knight’s hard thighs tensed around her again. She thought Liadan reached up as if to stop her, but the knight’s hand fell away again and clenched the chair instead, as if to control herself.
Feeling she had hit Liadan’s spot, Ava took this as a sign that she should keep going. She closed her eyes and sucked slowly on Liadan’s clitoris. She heard Liadan’s helpless moan, and when she opened her eyes again, the knight’s belly was tightening against trembles and Liadan was biting her lip, as if to silence herself. Ava was pleased, realizing she was better at this than she had assumed.
Liadan gently cupped the back of Ava’s hair, silently encouraging her, and Ava focused on Liadan’s clitoris completely now, sucking slowly but with passion.
Liadan couldn’t contain her deep cries of pleasure, and as she brought the knight to a climax, Ava gazed up at her from between her thighs with a hard, determined stare. Liadan stared back fondly, her thighs tensed again, and she released, her moisture rushing warm against Ava’s mouth. Ava nuzzled her nose into the red hair, inhaling its scent, tasting as much of the sudden moisture as she could, and in the silence that followed, Liadan slouched forward in the chair and panted.
“I suppose . . . I could forgive . . . anything . . . after that,” gasped Liadan.
Ava smiled, and her heart fluttered when Liadan smiled back.
Liadan reached down, easily lifted Ava into her lap, and held her, and Ava happily nuzzled her golden hair under Liadan’s chin.
“I thought you would never speak to me again,” Ava said in relief.
“Perhaps I wouldn’t have,” Liadan admitted with a breathless laugh. “I gave up everything for you, and it seems you would squander it again and again.”
“I don’t mean to,” said Ava apologetically. “It’s just . . . I’ve spent my whole life locked away, and now I have all this freedom, and it’s so tempting to just . . . dive in!”
Liadan smiled sadly as she held Ava close. “I keep forgetting how shut away you were. I suppose I’d be a little rebellious as well. How about this: we shall go out together for a night of fun—”
“Really, Liadan?” Ava cried in happy ecstasy.
“Yes,” Liadan answered. “And you may drink and dance as you please. Though I suppose it doesn’t matter now if you wander the tavern alone, does it? All the men have left, as it should be. This was always a woman’s place of pleasure and not meant for their prying eyes.”
“They fled in terror of you,” laughed Ava, gazing up at Liadan dotingly. She hesitated and added, “How did you know I was in trouble?”
“I didn’t,” Liadan admitted. “I awoke and you weren’t there. I supposed you had gone down to the tavern with Rowan and Lysa, so I donned my armor to join you. As I came on the landing, I heard your voice, and I came down the stairs as quickly as I could.”
“Thank the goddess you did,” Ava said, remembering with anger how the man at the bar had groped her. Even now, she trembled in disgust to think of it. She recalled how she had wanted to chop off his head, and as if she’d read Ava’s mind, Liadan had done it.
“Rowan would have crushed the man, I’m sure,” said Liadan. “That hammer of hers has cracked many skulls in Saoirse’s defense. But you are my lady. It was my duty to protect you, not hers. And protect you as I try, I see now that I shall not always be ever at your side.”
“You mean to say that I am a person with freewill who may roam and do as I please?” teased Ava.
Liadan smiled. “You know what I meant.” She gazed off thoughtfully. “Perhaps Lysa has the right idea. I never wanted to teach you the blade, but perhaps . . .”
“I never wanted to learn,” said Ava with a dismissive gesture. “Don’t fret so, my Liadan. I shall be careful next time, that’s all. I shall no longer wander alone in places with drunken men like the fool that I am. I just never thought . . . How can anyone be so evil? The way he groped me and called me a whore!” Her lip trembled. She just didn’t understand it. Attracted to women as she was, the thought had never crossed her mind to molest one!
Liadan stroked Ava’s hair to soothe her. “I’m afraid the longer you travel with me, the more you shall have to confront the violence of men. Your father did shelter you for a reason.”
Hearing mention of her father, Ava cast her eyes down and held back tears. She didn’t want to discuss her father ever again, never wanted to think of him. She would away to Wildoras and have ten children and name them after every woman in her bloodline, and pretend her father had never existed!
Sensing she had prodded a wound, Liadan said apologetically, “Are you hungry? I could ask Grainne to warm something for you.”
“No, I’m f-fine,” Ava lied. “I wonder if Grainne would teach me to cook. If we are to have children, I would need to know how.”
“But I know how to cook,” said Liadan.
Ava looked up in surprise. “Do you?”
“Mmhmm. And I can sew a little. Learning to hunt and cook our game was a part of our training at the academy, and of course, we had to darn our own socks,” the Knight of the Wild explained. “Also, a Wildoras woman starts training with a bow at five. I left for the academy when I was six.”
Ava sighed. “It seems like everyone else learns a skill so early in life, and not just one skill but many! Meanwhile, I refused my training as a princess and any other training I was offered. If I were made queen, I wouldn’t even know how to rule.”
“But you shant be queen of Realm Illa, so it doesn’t matter anymore,” Liadan gently reminded her. “I shall provide for you now. Don’t worry your head on it.” She kissed Ava’s head and closed the princess in her bulging arms, but Ava dropped her head against Liadan’s shoulder and couldn’t help but worry.