RE: Monarch
Chapter 261: Kholis VI

Tinted sunlight radiated through a canopy of indigo leaves above. The hidden compartment was small, not much bigger than an apprentices' room, allowing enough room for the large silver and black trunk of a considerable tree. The air carried a subtle fragrance of earth and something distinctly foreign—a whisper of Elven magic, perhaps. I'd spotted trees with similar trappings around Kholis, though to be honest, the village turned city had gone through such drastic changes that the addition of colorful flora didn't register high on my awareness.

I stepped forward and looked straight up, the metal of a carefully disguised drain clinking beneath my feet before craning my neck to look back at Lucius. "Did you put a tree in your house?"

Maya shook her head disapprovingly as the young noble choked. "Ignore him." She crouched down, examining the thick roots that led into the dirt beneath the grate. "I'm no expert, but this looks far too mature to have been planted recently."

"Yet it was." Lucius cleared his throat, composure settling back over him like a familiar cloak. "Nearly three years ago to the day."

"That's impossible." Maya gasped.

"In most circumstances it would be, if not for the trick the elves taught me. The walls of this place are made of living wood worked from the same sort of tree. See the graftings?" Lucius pointed above our heads, where a series of wooden rods formed a solid connection between the tree and the walls that housed it. "I've redone them three times already, though the frequency of that bit should be less common now that it's fully grown." He pointed to the pegs. "The connection to the rest of the house forms a sort of network. It sheds heat in the warmer months, and clings to it tightly when the snow piles. The wood lends itself to all sorts of enchantment, making it the perfect anchor for the ward that left such an impression earlier." He shrugged. "Supposedly they do more, but I have yet to see it."

With a wave, he beckoned us over to the tree's left side. Bare wood decorated with darker striations shone at the center of a ring of bark, indicating a limb that had been carefully pruned and excised. An uneven ruddy smudge crowned the center, as if a drop of wine had been splashed upon it and hastily wiped away.

Lucius pulled a glimmering sowing needle from a pouch, brandishing it jokingly as a weapon before handing it over carefully. "It cannot see as we do, but its senses are sharp. Grant some of your essence and it will remember, adding you both as an exception to any magic anchored to it?"

I did as he instructed, pricking my thumb until a bead of crimson welled up, which I pressed against the unshod wood. An odd sensation shot through to my palm, a tentative, curious buzzing that was reminiscent of mana but more intelligent, in a way that was difficult to describe.

As the feeling faded, I handed the pin to Maya, who did the same.

"Now." Lucius managed a wry smile. "After I track your uncle down and make sure he's found his accommodations, I think we could all use some rest."

"We should greet your lady wife," Maya started, only to be interrupted as Lucius threw up a stern hand.

"Absolutely not. She'll be entirely consumed with the duty of scolding the municipal lord for being away for too long, and it would be unwise to deny her." He looked between us and winked. "Feel free to come and go as you please. We'll chat again on the morrow."

The door clicked shut, and with that, he was gone. We stood there silently for a few moments, turning back to the house and taking it all in.

"Kind of him." I said.

"Uncommonly kind." Maya agreed. A little too quickly. On closer inspection, I noted the way she seemed to observe me out of the corner of her vigilant eye. With growing suspicion, I took a step forward.

There was an audible tremor as she matched it, keeping distance.

Frowning, I took another step. "What—I'm not some beast laying in wait, intending to pounce upon you the moment we are in private."

"Of course." Again, Maya shuffled away, stubbornly maintaining the same amount of distance.

"Nothing happened even when you visited me in the bath."

"That was in Whitefall. There were spies everywhere, and the gods know how many ears pressed to the door. You forget, I've seen your mind."

"Excuse me?!"

Maya didn't flinch. "Poor lady Petticoat didn't even have a chance to put her umbrella down—"

"—Which was her preference. It was not our first encounter, I knew her taste." I explained, feeling a flush crawl up my neck.

"Maya wrinkled her nose, probably at the unfortunate choice of words, then refocused. "You're saying it was her preference to be taken like a common harlot, bent over the bannister, small clothes dangling betwixt—"

"—Yes." I did my best to stay neutral, heat on my neck spreading upwards and overtaking my face. "She specifically wanted that sort of attention, which was established beforehand. I simply acknowledged those desires and facilitated them."

"To your own personal enjoyment."

"Well… yes." I admitted.

"Why would a noble woman crave such treatment?" Maya asked, blinking several times.

"Because—" I stopped, taking great effort to remove the exasperation from my voice. However uncomfortable I felt, Maya was likely more uncomfortable, having to sift through a jumble of memories with little context. Patience was crucial. It was only natural she'd have questions along these lines. Hearing it was jarring with how direct she was being, speaking plainly regarding topics we'd never broached, embarrassing because of the intimate perspective we shared, but natural, regardless.

I started again, more evenly. "Because, as with all things, we often most aspire towards that which we feel is most lacking."

Maya cocked her head, working through that. "Can you give me some examples?"

"Absolutely," I said, more than happy to move on to theoreticals. “A milkmaid or servant—someone who generally does a great deal of hard labor as their vocation at the behest of others—might come to their bed with an overwhelming desire to take the lead. Alternatively, if the work is hard enough, they might simply wish to lay back and be pampered.”

"I see," Maya replied, squinting slightly. "Which one was Lady Petticoat?"

I blew air between my lips. It was less embarrassing now that the shock of surprise was fading. Regardless, discussing the topic of old lovers was avoided as a rule, and reversing that was going to take some getting used to. "Neither. Lady Petticoat was a wealthy widow of high status. Every single person in her life, from servants to suitors, treated her softly and sympathetically, as if she'd break at the slightest bother. Beyond that, her fortune was substantial. She was constantly beset by the ambitious and would-be beneficiaries, many of whom were quite cunning, sometimes borderline criminal in their attempts to loosen her purse strings. This fostered an environment that forced her to be constantly vigilant and reserved, avoiding any appearance of weakness."

"And she aspired towards that which was most lacking." Understanding dawned in her expression, then confusion. "Is it strange that I'm not sure which I am?"

"Not at all."

"Truly? It feels like it should be obvious."

"It is not a spell to be studied. In this we have more in common with the mages of yore, rooting around in the dark—albeit cautiously, carefully—and whatever is discovered often deviates from the expected. But we are speaking on matters of sprinting when you have yet to walk."

"How condescending." Her mouth turned downward as she seemed to take my evaluation as a challenge and moved closer. Her scent washed over me, reviving the recent memory from the bath in a manner that was almost painful in its intoxication. "Most of your conquests lived pampered lives, their bodies soft and pliable, undisciplined. Perhaps it is you who has yet to sprint—"

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I grabbed her arm and drew her to me. Gently, but suddenly. Her stilted breath warmed my cheek.

After a moment of shock, a full tremble traveled through her, and her visage paled. Just as quickly I let go, and Maya took a step backward, her expression crestfallen and shaken. "It—that isn't fair. I wasn't ready."

"Exactly." I told her gently. "It's not an issue of can or can't. There's no doubt that if you set your mind to it and dragged me upstairs to whatever outlandish quarters Lucius prepared for us, you'd manage. But the pressure you're placing on yourself to rush ahead would almost certainly guarantee discomfort, even pain."

As she thought on that, her composure returned. "Perhaps it would be better. To see it done, even if it isn't perfect and vanquish these damn nerves." Her voice warbled as she spoke, betraying the uncertainty beneath her determined words.

"Why the hurry? We've only just arrived."

Maya looked at me long and hard, her expression screwing into something that would have almost been comical were it not for the frustration it betrayed. "Because we do not know how long this peace will last. Every moment of solace without misery only occurs because there is some foul darkness in the shadow plane, biding its time, waiting until we are most off guard to emerge. I want this. I've wanted this for so long that I can't even fully explain when it started." She looked around, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. "And now we're here, finally alone, behind closed doors, our privacy preserved by a bloody Elven ward—" Maya held up a shaking hand in disgust "—and my body betrays me."

I understood with a clarity that came from walking the same shadowed path. That creeping paranoia that whispered in the quietest moments—the sense that peace was merely the indrawn breath before a storm—had become as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

"Our habitual misfortune is not…" I struggled, the word hovering just beyond reach before finally crystallizing in my mind. "Fated. We are not cursed. Were we to flip the raven to the gods, plunder Whitefall's treasury, charter a ship and prance off to another continent with the express purposes of finding a quiet patch of land to live out the rest of our lives, we would likely do so happily until Ragnarok inevitably claimed us."

Maya breathed out audibly, and some of the tension left her shoulders. "Yet that is not the life we've chosen. We are in danger because we've repeatedly placed ourselves in places and situations where danger is present."

I nodded. "Beyond that, the only time I can think of when we weren't being pursued or actively chasing something was when your family boarded me during those first days in the Enclave. We can hazard a crisis better than most on this plane, and when things are truly dire, there is not a single person I'd rather have by my side. But the unfortunate part is, we've never had a chance to just… be. At no point have we been able to simply dwell in each other's presence and discover who we are when we're together, with no enemy or maneuvering to counter."

Maya nodded along, listening, tail swishing from side to side as she seemed to agree. Eventually, she bit her lip and looked away. "There's truth in your words. But at the end of this, if I looked back and realized the time was wasted, I couldn't forgive myself for it."

"Then let's not waste time. Take it off." When boggling eyes stared back at me, and Maya looked ready to go sprinting for the door, I quickly amended. "Uh—the glamour, of course." Her eyes narrowed as I backpedaled further. "Unless you'd rather leave it on. It's your choice. It just feels a little…"

"A little what?" Maya challenged, cocking her head in a manner that indicated my next words should be chosen very carefully.

I cleared my throat, buying time. "There are many walls that separate us in our day-to-day lives. Walls that serve a purpose, insulating us from both our enemies and those who constantly wring their hands over the fate of the crown. During this time we're away, if it's all the same to you, I'd like there to be as little separating us as possible."

The corner of her mouth pulled up. "Like the other day in the bath?"

A groan escaped me before I could suppress it. "As monastic as I might appear, much more of that and you're going to kill me."

"Very well." Maya withdrew the glamoured necklace from beneath her dress before she paused, dangling it between us. Her eyes traveled down my left sleeve. "I'll remove my glamour if you remove your glove."

That surprised me. It was only fair, of course. Asking her to be vulnerable while I maintained barriers of my own was pretty unreasonable now that I thought about it. Yet… there was a part of me that rebelled against the idea. The fact that the demonic chitin granted to me as a boon had not stopped at the transformed arm was not lost on me. Vanity was a luxury there was no longer time for, and yet, I'd never fully made peace with it, either. It was a part of me that, outside of combat, my mind shoved by the wayside and pretended didn't exist. Careful to hide my distaste, I removed the soft leather with my normal hand. The unnaturally dark fingers came to nail-like points, and my thumb caught on the groove-like texture. "It's… unsightly."

"I think it's charming." Maya disagreed, looking me up and down with a gaze that held no revulsion, only sincere appreciation.

"Even if it is reminiscent of someone we both find distasteful?"

Silently, she nodded, looking it over once more. "The other day, I couldn't help but notice that in a certain light, it looks statuesque. As if part of you is carved from stone."

"It doesn't remind you of the demons and their troublesome history with your people?"

Maya shook her head, a distant nostalgia in her eyes. "It reminds me of the price you paid. How willingly you paid it." She laughed a little. "And how determined I am to clear that debt before it comes due."

I frowned. "I'm not sure how to feel about that, given your recent discussions with Ozra. Fair warning. If you manage to swap our fates or fall upon a metaphorical sword for me, I'll use every resource at my disposal to vex you from the afterlife..."

The words died on my tongue as, true to her word, Maya pulled the necklace over her head and removed the glamour. A slight shimmer rippled through her, more obvious now that I knew what to look for, and the unnatural smoothness of her skin became textured, as numerous lightly colored scars that paid her warpath through the Sanctum rose to the surface. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she looked away. "When we go out on the town, or Lucius comes to visit, it will remain firmly in place. Only when we are alone."

"Well met and returned." I agreed easily. "Now, given the wide breadth of my experience—of which I'm constantly reminded—it's only reasonable that I take the lead. You were worried about wasting time, yes?"

"Yes…" Maya agreed reluctantly, some of the earlier skittishness returning as she regarded me with caution. Shortly after, her resolve firmed. "Yes."

With that tacit approval, I reached out, taking her hand in mine, fingers interlocking. "This is a legendary technique with which many lovers begin their early journey together. A method of intimacy couched in comfort that all but guarantees future prosperity."

She bit her lip gently, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I'm ready. What is it?"

"We're already doing it." Lifting my arm and hers along with it, I held up our joined hands.

There was a pregnant silence. Her cheeks distended slightly, as if she was holding something in. Then laughter racked out of her in waves. "Really? This is the extent of your ambition?"

I scoffed. "How dare you."

"Sorry, sorry." She wiped a mirthful tear from her eye. "You're being patient. Far better than the alternative. It's just… well, we've done this before. Many times."

"Whilst terrified, under threat of death or worse." I pointed out. "When every touch was laden with urgency and fear, never with true peace."

Something about the way I said it seemed to get through, and Maya considered it thoughtfully with a small smile. "I suppose it's a little different in the context. Gentle and comforting. Far less involved than what I'd imagined."

"That's the point." I agreed. "Starting small. Our time together should not be trying. On that note, given the difference in experience, I think it's best that you set the pace. If you're feeling daring, comfortable enough to take the next step, I'll be there to take it with you."

Tentatively, Maya withdrew her hand and looked at it, pressing her thumb into her palm. "And if the nerves get the better of me and I venture no further?"

"Then we will relax, and drink, and further less carnal ends. We've both clearly neglected Lucius, which should be rectified either way. The lithid's remnant needs further testing, and I've sidelined my own development for far too long."

"And… you'd be satisfied?" She asked, searching my face for any indication to the contrary, her eyes revealing more vulnerability than I'd ever seen in them before.

"I already have everything I need."

It was strange, to say such a thing and find it true. Desire no longer held dominion over me as it once had. My appetites, grand as they were, now seemed obvious in their designs. Various balms for loneliness as unquenchable as the desert itself. Palliatives that provided only fleeting relief for the coldness I felt come morning.

Maya had conquered that loneliness. Even in the darkest moments, she gave me a reason to push forward.

For her, I could wait. Forever if it came to that.

It shocked me a little when she rushed me with a sudden embrace, arms locked tightly around my back, face pressed into my chest. "It's okay. You can be a little more selfish."

Her scent enveloped me—juniper and lavender intertwining with something uniquely her own—a fragrance that bypassed rational thought and struck directly at something deep within me. It clung to my senses, intoxicating as fine wine, until I found my carefully constructed restraint crumbling beneath waves of burgeoning desire. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to let my thoughts wander to exactly what a-little-more selfish entailed, and let my hands wander along with them—

Take it easy. You just promised to let her take the lead.

An excuse came to me, and I seized it. "As much—" My voice faltered, and I cleared my throat. "Though the explanation you gave Lucius was cover to guarantee our privacy, that doesn't make it any less true. There are some things we need to talk about that we can't risk discussing in the capital. And it would be best to broach them before Vogrin has returned to overhear us."

The softness in Maya's expression evaporated, replaced by that stoic coldness that armored her in matters of strategy and survival. Her shoulders squared, chin lifting almost imperceptibly. "Right," she murmured, the single word falling between us like a drawn blade. "The Black Beast."

And now, we knew his name.

"Lycaon."

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