Milady’s Wiles             by: Brandy Dewinter, with the invaluable assistance of P.J. Wright

 

Chapter 15 - Winterfair Night

News travels fast in a small community and by the time I had descended from the high balcony to the hallway near my quarters it was not a question of whether Mother had heard of our very-public kiss, but how many times. My feet had barely been touching the flagstones as I descended the stairs. My cheeks were rosy with more than the cool air, my eyes alight with more than the bright sun. Then I saw Mother standing at the doorway to her chambers that I must pass on the way to my own. If I had been thinking of more than myself, I would have expected it. As it was, surprise died before I hardly had a chance to recognize it. At least, surprise at seeing her and the look of concern on her face. I was surprised though, to see Julia standing with her as they obviously waited for me to come by.

I could have done without seeing Julia right then. In all my life I had never met anyone more beautiful. She was warm and caring, but strong enough to use her lightning wit and razor tongue when her sense of right and wrong was violated.

And I had violated it. We had worded no promises between us, but our nights sleeping in each other’s arms had brought us close enough that no words should have been needed. Our kisses had stirred my heart and my blood to levels that made all previous intimacies fade into distant memory.

Yet, almost as soon as I was back in Stalwart Guard I had turned to another.

To a man.

What had my kisses for her meant? What had my caresses of her so vibrant hair meant? She knew what they had meant to her, but what meaning could they have had for me if I turned away so quickly when another was available? One with whom she could not compete, if my interest were in men.

In her eyes I could see only betrayal. I would have preferred to see fire in those green jewels, fire like I had seen so many times before.

Though I had just been kissing another my heart went out to Julia and I reached for her in a renewal of the embrace we had so often shared.

She turned away from me, turned back into Mother’s room, turned her back on me.

I moved to pursue Julia but Mother’s arm held me back. Her eyes al-lowed me to move into her room, but not to touch my fire-tressed girl-friend. Mother’s look also commanded me to silence. It was like a blow to me to realize how disappointed they each were in me. My own shoulders sagged, my own head drooped, my own eyes filled near to overflowing with shame and confusion.

Mother’s gestures motioned Julia and me to our accustomed stools as she took her own seat. Greyshadow provided a moment’s distraction and a focus for my eyes that couldn’t meet Mother’s or Julia’s. I expected a scolding that would be all the worse because it was delivered from pain and disappointment rather than anger. Bowing my head even lower, I readied myself for the attack from which I had no defense.

Mother’s words were for Julia, though. "Julia, are you familiar with the legends of our family?"

Julia looked up in surprise. I had been aware of how her own despair had pulled her head down though I couldn’t look at her directly. From the corner of my vision I saw her motion followed by a shake of negation in her flowing mane.

"I’m sure you’ve heard something," Mother pressed.

Julia’s eyes glanced at me for the merest heartbeat, then she re-plied, "Well, I never gave them much credit. Witches with strange powers to control men’s minds. It is not possible. I have watched you since Tamor first invited me to live here and I know you are not in league with the Evil One."

"No, we are not in league with the Evil One. Yet in a way the legends are correct. In my family we have the ability to influence people’s minds. It is not infallible, but when it works it can provide amazing results," claimed Mother.

"Let me show you," she said, capturing Julia’s green eyes with hers of brilliant blue.

"No, Mother!" I cried, stepping between them.

Julia started where she sat, and Mother sat back abruptly as well. She looked at me with a frown that showed surprise and confusion more than anger.

"Mother, this is not right. Do not cloud Julia’s mind, sharpen it!

Let her help us with her wisdom and judgment," I demanded.

"Cloud my mind?" murmured Julia, even more worry on her face.

"What Mother says is right. We have the ability to influence people’s minds. Sometimes. But it is wrong to use it on people you respect . . . and love . . . without their understanding and consent."

"Love?" Julia whispered, picking up on one word from my declaration.

"Yes, love," I whispered back as I knelt at her feet. I took her hand in mine and gently kissed it, then pressed it to my forehead as I knelt before her, my gown spreading wide around my legs.

Mother coughed delicately, causing Julia’s head to come up even as I held my submissive pose.

"Cherysse is right. We should explain without artificial enhancement to our words." Then she paused for a moment before continuing, "That honesty will make her a good Monarch when the time comes for her to take her rightful throne."

A compliment? My shameless display on the balcony warranted many things, but hardly a compliment!

"Cherysse, take your seat again and I will explain, this time without additional, um, persuasive effects."

I did as I was bid while she continued, "Julia, what I said was true. Under the right circumstances we can influence others with force beyond words alone."

"We?" Julia asked.

"Those in my family who have our distinctive blue eyes," Mother explained. This caused Julia’s eyes to flick to mine. Her green eyes widened even further than their shining norm as she reminded herself of the similarity between Mother’s eyes and my own.

I nodded to her in answer to her unasked question, then we both looked back at Queen Selay.

"Yes, Cherysse has the power as well. She has used it with greater discretion than I would have expected in one so young. But then, she among us all has had to grow up very quickly in this last half year."

"One of the things this power allows us to do, if the subject is willing, is to share a part of ourselves, to create a mirror personality within an existing mind. Deacon could never have been convincing as a woman. Cherysse was created when I put aspects of my mind into Deacon’s."

Finally Mother explained the strange feelings I had been experiencing. Explained them, though I wasn’t sure how to react to her words. "That is why she has been so attracted to Lyonidas. Those parts of her mind that allow Cherysse to be convincing, to move in a feminine way, to understand what it means to be a woman, exist even as those parts that are Deacon exist. Those parts that are Deacon are attracted to you."

Then Mother sighed and her tone became apologetic, " I was forced to rush when I imposed Cherysse on Deacon’s mind. There was no time for fine tuning. Subtleties are uncertain in any event. Since then any further modifications would be even more uncertain and we could not take the chance of arousing the suspicions of Lyonidas or Reynal. As a result it is as though the Princess is two persons. On the outside, especially when she is near a handsome man, her feminine persona is dominant. I had to make this so since it is at this time when she is most vulnerable if she behaves inappropriately. Yet when no man is around her true personality can emerge, at least partially."

"Cherysse cannot truly control which persona is dominant, but she is honest to the feelings of that person," Mother concluded. "In her heart of hearts, or perhaps I should say in ‘his’ heart of hearts, Deacon loves you, Julia."

"And you agreed to this mind control?" Julia asked me.

A good question, for which I had no really good answer. "I don’t know. I didn’t understand it at the time sufficiently to truly agree. But at the time we had no alternative."

After a moment’s further thought I realized, "We probably still don’t."

"No, perhaps now less than ever," Queen Selay agreed. "We are about to move into the most dangerous part of our plan. Once we remove Reynal, Kragdle is sure to return."

"Remove Reynal?" I asked.

"Yes, but I cannot afford to have either of you involved," she said, dismissing my obvious curiosity.

Queen Selay straightened in her seat and gave additional orders.

"Julia, you need to accept your defeat in obtaining Lyonidas’ affections. Since you were not yet married to Tamor you can officially end your mourning at the feast tonight. Be polite to Lyonidas, but flirt with anyone else who catches your fancy. Make it clear that there is no hope of coming between Lyonidas and Cherysse. If Lyonidas petitions his father to overrule our period of mourning, it will add to Kragdle’s reason for returning. Yet he cannot now come before the spring. Only the hardiest of messengers can make the passage to High Canyon at this time of year."

Her eyes showed soul-deep pain as she continued to me, "Cherysse, you will need to let things continue with Lyonidas. He has made a public claim to you and you must acknowledge it. Become more submissive to him but keep your strength with all others, particularly with Reynal."

"Both of you," she continued, "when you can do so without it being obvious to Lyonidas, taunt Reynal. Make it clear that he is not man enough to interest you."

She stood up in dismissal. "Now, we need to get ready for the feast. Cherysse, I have a gown that is identical to the black gown you once wore except that it is in a blue so deep it appears almost as dark. Julia, pick something distinct, perhaps something with more decoration to contrast with the simplicity of the gown that Cherysse will wear. We want everyone’s eyes on one of the two of you tonight."

And that’s certainly the effect we achieved. The deep blue gown was indeed a near-copy of the black gown I had worn the night that Lyoni-das had first kissed me. He was quite flattered by the obvious reminder. Men are so predictable! Julia’s gown, on the other hand, was delicate and intricate and did full duty to the many moods she was known to display. We actually received an ovation as we entered the dining hall that evening.

Lyonidas was easily polite, yet whenever I happened to look his way I saw his eyes on me. In part it was flattering, but in part it was also disconcerting. I’m afraid I drank a bit more wine than I normally did. Yet I could eat no more than normal with my forced-small stomach. As a result, when the time came to dance I was much more exuberant than usual.

Reynal leaned over during one of our breaks when Lyonidas had escor-ted me back to our seats and loudly stated, "It seems that our Princess is quite happy tonight. Perhaps she enjoys making a spectacle of herself before the castle courtyard crowd."

Lyonidas and I had both reached for our cups the moment we sat down, but perhaps I had taken a smaller sip so I was the first that could react.

"General Reynal," I smiled at him with even more heat than the first time we had met, "perhaps it is just that Lyonidas is man enough to awaken a woman’s ardor."

And perhaps it was just coincidental that Duchess Amity, seated next to Reynal as usual, had taken that moment to doze off. Lyonidas spluttered into his wine and those around tittered most satisfactorily. Reynal’s face grew brighter than Julia’s hair. He stood abruptly, poking at Amity.

"Madame, it appears it is time for you to go to bed. I will assist you," he growled.

Julia picked up her own wineglass and pretended to murmur into it. In fact, her voice was loud enough to carry clearly. "The man for me won’t need to assist me to bed. I’ll be there first, anxious and ready."

Reynal’s back, all that we could still see, got even stiffer than his normal martial posture. He said nothing, however, merely helping the groggy Amity out of the hall. After their departure the feast got merry. Julia danced with a dozen men but I accepted invitations only from Lyonidas. I don’t think Mother even needed to pull any strings to make sure that the musicians played at least a few slower, more intimate tunes whenever Lyonidas led me onto the dance floor.

Still, there were enough faster melodies that we often needed our wine when we returned to our seats. As the evening wore on, I realized I was getting even less inhibited. Finally, after an extended giggling session where everything anyone did seemed hilariously funny, Lyonidas stood and offered his arm to me.

"My Princess, I think you need some fresh air."

"My Prince, that is not all that I need."

I clung to his arm with more need that I had expected as he led me from the hall. Our path to my balcony, our balcony now, led by his chambers. At the doorway, I glanced inside.

"You haven’t changed things much from when Tamor was here."

"I suspect he and I could have been friends under other circumstances," Lyonidas mused as he followed me into his room.

The few steps away from Lyonidas had reminded me of how much I had had to drink. I staggered slightly, leaning on the corner post of Lyonidas’ bed. His arms were immediately around me to steady me.

"Do I really awaken a woman’s ardor?" he breathed into my ear.

My answer was my lips, given without words. He took them as his own. His hands explored the smooth sleek curves revealed by my so-seduc-tive gown. I leaned into his body, forming my own to his in a more ancient dance than any played by the musicians. I felt with a distant part of my mind as his hand began to undo the lacing that held my dress, but it was unimportant. Nothing was important but the warmth of his lips on mine, the hardness that had made it’s presence so obvious between us.

For all that the gown fit me like a shiny skin above the skirts, yet those skirts started low enough that my hips had expanded. When Lyonidas had released the laces my dress would have slipped to the floor unimpeded but for the petticoats that gave such elegant fullness. These Lyonidas also released, but it was the loss of their weight that finally intruded into my distracted passion.

I stepped back from Lyonidas in just my chemise, trying to get my drink-clumsied legs free of all those acres of fabric.

And fell sprawling, my chemise flying up to reveal what little it had concealed. Or perhaps the very great secret it had concealed for the gown itself left little to imagine about my form. Yet with my chemise up around my armpits Lyonidas could now see the maiden’s lover that had been hidden behind the fabric.

"What is that thing you wear?" he asked as he helped me to my feet.

I just tried to pull the thin material of my chemise down to conceal once again my hidden tormentor. My shock and dismay and embarrassment and whatever coupled with my drunkenness to give me the hiccups. If there were anything more that could be done to make me feel terrible, I couldn’t imagine what it would be.

So I did what seemed to be my only logical action. I started to cry. My sobs reinforced my hiccups and my embarrassment grew further. Lyonidas tried to comfort me but I was too distressed for his embrace and turned away, waving my arm behind me to make him keep his distance.

He didn’t. Instead, I felt his strong arms around my waist as I turned to the wall. To his credit he just held me, not using the opportunity to explore further the diabolical device that I had never hated so much in my life.

"What is this thing?" he asked again, though softly, uncritically.

"It’s called a ‘maiden’s lover’," I explained between sobs. And hiccups. "It’s purpose is to make sure that my virtue remains intact, even if my own heart is not strong enough."

"Who makes you wear such a thing?" he asked in amazement.

"Mother, but it is our custom. Julia has her own. In our tradition the mother of a bride gives the key to the groom’s mother, who then hides it somewhere in the groom’s belongings. The couple must find the key before they can consummate the marriage."

"Some custom! And I thought we in High Canyon were often cruel."

By this time my sobs were getting under control, though not my hiccups. There was so much horror in his voice that I had to giggle.

"Well, (hic) it’s supposed to give the bride an incentive (hic) to be nice to her new (hic) mother-in-law. So that she doesn’t (hic) hide the key too well (hic).

The humor was back in his eyes when he heard the humor in my voice. He turned me around and offered to solve another of my problems, "I have a cure for the hiccups, you know."

"Really (hic)?"

"Yes," he promised with a grin, "it involves controlled breathing exercises."

"Breathing (hic)?

"Like this," he said, lowering his lips to mine.

I highly recommend the High Canyon cure for hiccups.

Unfortunately, that was the only need for which he had an immediate cure, and it was not my most pressing need at that. Actually, with that thought I realized I did not have a ‘pressing’ need. My maiden’s lover was no more painful that normal. It seemed only Julia could excite passions beyond my mind. Well, and my breathing. Which was controlled rather wonderfully by Lyonidas. For a time that seemed very long, yet very short.

Somewhere in there his hands did wander enough to determine the ex-tent of my imprisonment. The touch of his fingers along the borders of my undesired armor sent shivers up my spine that defined the extent of his effect on me as well as they defined the limits of my guardian garment. It was a powerful effect, yet it was an unyielding guardian.

Somewhere in there also, my hiccups vanished. I’m not sure what controls there were on my breathing, but it was definitely affected. When he finished his cure I was breathless, but a lot more sober than I had been.

I put my head on his shoulder and sighed, "I’m sorry my Prince. I should not have drunk so much tonight. It made me forget my prison in favor of my desire."

I felt his head nod above me but he said nothing. He just held me quietly.

After a long moment I kicked at the pile of clothes that I had thought to escape. Clearly I needed to dress again. The thought of once again putting on that beautiful gown created within me a sense of con-flict as great as that from kissing Lyonidas after kissing Julia. Who-ever I was, I now wanted to wear beautiful clothes. Clothes like those scattered about the floor of Lyonidas’ room.

Lyonidas noticed my motion of course. He was so wonderfully attentive to me. Taking the innermost petticoat from the pile, he once again tied it about my waist. Just like a lady’s maid he helped me to dress, finally lacing the back of the gown until it fit as sleekly as when I first sortied forth from my chambers so long ago that evening.

"I think I could still use some air," I murmured.

"I think we could both use some air," he agreed. He grabbed a cloak from his room and we went to mine, though this time he carefully remained in the hallway when I went in. In just a moment I had a cloak and gloves of my own. We ascended to our balcony and watched the brilliance of the winter stars, glittering like chips of ice not too different from the sparkle of frost on windows in our courtyard.

"The stars shine like your eyes," he offered a different comparison.

I looked up to him, which was fast becoming a favorite pastime due to the predictable effect. In a heartbeat our lips were once again warming each other, though the heat that arose had more to do with rapid heartbeats than the temperature of our touching skin. I had surrendered to his control once again, letting his hands shape my posture to best advantage against his when lights and shouts interrupted us.

"Milord Regent! Your Highness! Come quickly!"

"What is the matter?" we asked in unpracticed unison, equally identical tones of petulance in our voices.

"General Reynal has attacked Duchess Amity! He has been caught in the act! The Regent must judge at his trial!"

 

(continued in Part 16)

 

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Milady's Wiles © 1998 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.