Chapter LVI Knee
LVI Knee
Raduna waits for me in the corridor. I shake my head when he raises his arms to hold me, his eyes brimming with worry. The kings file out behind me, talking in hushed voices, and I cannot be carried now, I cannot collapse. I whisper as quietly as I can.
“I must be strong. Walk a pace behind me.”
He falls into step without a word, and we make our way down the stairs. I hold on to the banister but don’t grip it as hard as I want to. My eyes play tricks, things growing small then large as the world sways around me like the sea. I almost stumble a few times, but always catch myself.
It’s the longest walk in my life.
When we reach our apartment, I collapse to the floor as soon as the door closes. Raduna is on me in seconds, picking me up, calling for Anke to be brought, for tea, for food, and water. I close my eyes and breathe, silent tears rolling down my cheeks.
I almost failed. I almost got Magnar killed. And it’s not over. This is all my fault.
“She should rest,” Anke says as soon as she sees me. “And avoid all strain, physical and emotional.”
At this point, I am well enough to sit up, and I snort weakly. “Oh, yes. Let me get right on that.”
“Magnar is held for possible trial,” Raduna murmurs. “Keep this to yourself. Caliane will get him out.”
Anke hums in understanding. “I see. Strain is unavoidable, then. You still need to give yourself some relief, or it will end badly for the baby. A bath, a massage, a few orgasms. Knights, take care of your queen.”
I shake my head. “No. I must think. I must get him out. It’s all my fault.”
But Anke isn’t moved by my pitiful confession. “My queen, you need to relax to think properly. Let them help you. You’ll gain nothing by torturing yourself. Dark environment soothe her. Soft and quiet. Let her body know it’s safe.”
Arvi and Khay jump into action, covering the windows, lighting candles and lanterns, calling for a bath to be brought to the sitting room. I ask Raduna to bring me my father’s journals, because I intend to read them again, but he shakes his head.
“You’ve read them enough. Breathe, my queen. Anke is right. You have to relax if you want to help Magnar. Do you understand me? You will fail if you push yourself like this. This isn’t a physical fight. You need a sharp mind.”
I sigh, but it’s so difficult to let go. As soon as my breathing deepens, panic sets in. If I stop pushing, if I let go for just a moment, Magnar will be lost.
It feels as though my unwavering attention is the only thing keeping him alive. But that’s wrong, isn’t it?
I let my knights strip me, and when they feed me luxurious chocolate truffles, I open my mouth obediently and chew, making myself enjoy their taste.
The bath is brought in, hot and fragrant, and they kneel on three sides of me, their hands washing, stroking, kneading my skin until my head falls back into Arvi’s waiting palm, and I relax.
Yet even though my body gives in, my mind doesn’t. Panicky, half-formed thoughts shoot through my head at high velocities. I am lost in my private world of terror, lost and absent. I don’t even hear what they say, and when skillful fingers part me under water, I jolt with a gasp.
“No! I don’t deserve it.”
Khay pauses, his hand on my thigh, brows arched. “It will help you relax.”
I shake my head frantically. “No. I can’t… He’s in the dungeons, bleeding, hurt, maybe starving. I can’t… I have to get out. I need to think.”
Raduna sighs, though his eyes are kind, his expression patient. “Caliane, he’ll be devastated if the baby gets hurt. Please. Let us help you.”
I shake my head again. “I deserve to be punished.”
Arvi laughs suddenly, leaning over my face. He sits behind me so he’s upside down, his sharp teeth bared in a grin right above my eyes.
“Yes, you should be punished,” he says with a soft laugh. “It will clear your head, won’t it, sweet? What if you can just get your punishment, let go of this guilt?”
It would be bliss. “Please,” I whisper. “Yes. That’s it. Punish me.”
“Arvi, do you know what you’re doing?” Raduna murmurs, holding my hand.
“Yes. I had it done to me a few times. It was very helpful. I won’t be too hard on her, but I’ll give her relief. You’ll watch. If you think I’m overdoing it, you’ll stop me.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask, sitting up, dread and hope mixing in my belly.
Arvi grins, cupping my cheek. “What I promised you long ago. I’m going to put you over my knee. Now, Caliane, you can tell me to stop at any time, and I will. Do you understand? I want you to say ‘stop’ if you can’t handle it. Don’t be a hero. Magnar was, and look where that got him.”
I nod slowly, though my mind is made up. I won’t stop him. I want whatever punishment he’ll dish out, because then maybe the guilt will finally settle, and I’ll be able to think.
Khay snorts. “Look at her. She won’t tell you to stop even if she’s dying from pain.”
Arvi hums. “Yes. Still, I want you to know you have this option, Caliane. Come out now. Let’s get you dry.”
No one speaks as they stroke my body with soft towels. Their movements are gentle and attentive, and I step from foot to foot, not really understanding what my punishment is supposed to be. They are being as kind as always.
When I’m dry, Arvi sits down on the couch, his legs comfortably spread. He points at his lap.
“I want you to lie down here with your ass up. Can you do that?”
I swallow with difficulty. “Do you truly mean to… spank me? Like a child?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever been spanked?”
I shake my head. “No, I was threatened with it a few times, but it never happened.” I lick my lips nervously and stare, unsure. My face feels hot, my body tingling with embarrassment. Oh, it will be humiliating. Inexplicably, I slicken with arousal.
Right. Because I like being humiliated.
Arvi adjusts himself, spreading his legs wider.
He’s hardening, I realize. This is a sexual thing.
I brace my shoulders and go to him, climbing on the couch.
He helps me get settled until my face is pressed into the cushions, my knees spread wide, my back arched and butt in the air.
I flinch when he strokes my butt cheek in a slow, reverent caress.
“We can stop at any time. I’ll watch you, as will the others. If we think you can’t handle it, we’ll stop. You can cry. You can be loud. This is a release.”
My breath quickens until it’s shallow and fluttering. Arvi hums his courting song, lightly caressing my skin. I tense, bracing as dark moths of fear and thrill take off in my belly. He lifts his hand and slaps my flesh with a harsh sound.
I yelp. It hurts.
“You’ve been bad, haven't you?” Arvi murmurs, caressing my inflamed skin until I shake, my mouth wide open in shock and awe. “You’re going to pay, sweet. You’ll pay for everything you’ve done, and it will be over, hm? There you go.”
He slaps me again on the same butt cheek, and I cry out from pain. Arvi strokes my hurting skin, then dips his fingers between my legs. I jolt, my flesh too sensitive, hot.
“Look at this cunt, so wet, so willing. But your husband isn’t here to plow it. Bad Caliane. Who are you getting wet for?”
My eyes almost pop out from shock, my mouth dry. Arvi’s hand descends again, hitting the same spot. Tears spring to my eyes, and I sob.
“That’s right,” he murmurs. “You did a bad thing. Cry. Let your tears wash off your guilt.”
He strikes again, and I howl from pain, tears and snot flowing down my face. Shivers run through me, hot and cold waves pouring down my spine, seeping into my tense muscles. I don’t relax, exactly. I—awaken.
“Naughty queen,” Arvi whispers.
He slaps my clit, much lighter than my ass, but it still stings. I almost leap out of my skin. Pleasure colors the pain red, and I cry harder, unable to make sense of what’s happening to me.
“I asked you a question. Who are you wet for?”
“I don’t know,” I sob out. “You.”
“But I need you wet somewhere else. Should I oil up this naughty ass of yours? Do you think you deserve to be fucked?”
I shake my head, my loose hair sticking to my wet temples. “No, I don’t!”
“Tell me. What’s this bad, horrible thing you did?”
He slaps my other butt cheek, and it’s so hard, I choke on my scream of pain. Raduna murmurs something, then gentle fingers coax my head to turn, and his brown eyes hover in front of me, assessing.
“I’m fine,” I choke out. “Please. I couldn’t save Magnar. I didn’t tell him I love him!”
“Mmm, that’s very bad,” Arvi muses softly, slapping me again with a meaty sound.
He smoothes out the burn, his fingers light, almost ticklish. I heave in deep breaths, so much deeper than I could take before. Things unlock in my body, ribs moving with ease, my head dizzy. It’s almost too much air after breathing so shallowly since last evening.
“Of course, one could argue you saved him when his own rash actions almost got him killed. Isn’t that true?”
He slaps me again. I whimper, shaking all over, and stutter through wild sobbing I can’t control.
“H-he should n-never be h-hurt! I should h-have saved him! I should always k-keep him safe. I love h-him. I’m the one w-who should know, I’m responsible!”
“Hmm.” Arvi slaps me again, lighter, though it stings, because my skin is so sensitive. “Right. You’re responsible. Is Magnar a child, Caliane? Can he not think for himself?”
He slaps me again, and I cry out, gripping the cushions as I writhe in his lap.
“No! But I should have found a way, done something!”
“Like what?” Arvi asks, slapping my clit. I jolt with a whimper, and he gives it a soft stroke that has me shaking before he spanks my ass a few times in a row, hitting lightly but burning.
“W-what?”
“Like what, sweet? What could you have done?”
I cry into the cushions, the couch wet under my face. I shake my head. “I d-don’t know! He didn’t listen. I should have… should have made him… Somehow.”
Arvi delivers another hit, then dives between my legs, teasing me with a light, careful touch.
“Are you able to make Magnar act against his will, Caliane? Are you actually capable of it?”
I can’t help wanting his touch and the relief it offers. I spread my legs wider, try to hump his palm, but Arvi pulls it away.
“Tell me. Are you capable of controlling Magnar?”
He slaps my flesh, and I cry out. “No! I can’t, I can’t!”
“Then why do you feel guilty, sweet?”
Another slap. I stop crying and just let the pain spread through me, wave after wave of heat, of relief.
“Because I love him. Because he’s mine. Because they can’t have him!”
“True,” Arvi murmurs, massaging my skin. “But none of what happened is your fault.”
“If I were smarter…” I sob, beating the couch with my fists. “If only I were better, and kinder, and prettier, and nicer, and more obedient, and… None of this would have happened!”
I cry, a different kind of pain flooding my chest, something old and wounded, something unbearable.
Gentle hands lift me, settling me against Arvi’s chest, and he slides onto the floor, where Raduna and Khay join us.
They hold me, murmuring softly, caressing my back, my hair, my arms. I cry so hard, I begin to hiccup.
It lasts for a long time until all the pain spends itself, and I grow numb and heavy. My sobs quiet. My heart slows down.
“Do you believe bad things happen because you aren’t enough?” Arvi whispers in a soft, loving murmur.
I nod with a shaky sigh. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
And it does in a strange, dreamy, magical sort of way.
If I had been different, better, if I had been the way everyone wanted me to be, my mother wouldn’t have died, my father wouldn’t have touched me, none of that would have happened.
There had to be a reason, I think bitterly. And the reason was me.
Only… It sounds so ridiculous when I put it into words.
“My mother fell off a horse when I was nine,” I say hoarsely after Raduna hands me a handkerchief, and I blow my nose. “She broke her neck. It… It had nothing to do with me. But ever since then… If I disobeyed, or made a mistake, or fidgeted too much… My governess would say… She would say…”
Tears flood my eyes, and the wound reopens, more pain coming out from deep nooks where it lay buried for years.
“That if… If only I was a good girl… Smarter… Nicer… My mother would be alive!”
I howl into Arvi’s chest, and they hold me, and stroke me, and keep me from falling apart. I feel like I’m made of agony and guilt, insubstantial, broken. Their arms hold the pieces of me together. Their compassion pulls me out of the deep well of hurting.
“That was a lie, Caliane,” Raduna murmurs softly. “They lied to you. It was a lie. Of course, you believed it. You were a child. But you don’t have to believe it anymore. You don’t have to.”
I shake my head. My mind is broken, and I cannot think anymore. All I can do is hold on, their bodies warm around me, their hands gentle. I fall asleep, spent and exhausted.
And time flies.
When I wake up, it’s to afternoon light flooding the room. I’m still in Arvi’s lap, and he holds me loosely, my naked body covered with a blanket.
I blink a few times, breathe, and wonder. My mind is clear, clearer than it’s been in ages. I sit up and look at my knight, who watches me with soft, curious eyes.
“EdB,” I whisper. “Egerd de Bloom. I think I need to serve some tea.”