32. THE ABYSS OF NOTHINGNESS.
Chapter thirty-two
THE ABYSS OF NOTHINGNESS.
Mistress Sinai strolled through the garden just beyond the fortress gates, enjoying the soft caress of the evening air. The sweet scent of blooming flowers drifted around her, calming her nerves.
"Ha-have you heard the rumors, mistress?" Nora asked hesitantly from behind.
Sinai glanced over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "Whatever makes you think I am interested in rumors, Nora? It is beneath a lady to involve herself in gossip."
"Of course, mistress. I apologize." Nora's eyes dropped to the cobblestones.
But Sinai's curiosity was piqued. She cleared her throat. "What's the rumor about?"
"They say Emeriel has been away from the fortress for days." Nora's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Really?" Sinai's heart quickened its pace.
Just the boy's name was enough to stir several emotions in her. She took a deep, calming breath, feigning nonchalance.
"Did he escape? Run away?" A thrill of excitement shot through her at the thought. Good riddance.
"Oh no, mistress. The rumors say he is... having intimate relations with a high lord. He's been spending an awful lot of time at the high lord's estate."
Sinai's steps faltered. Intimate relations? Not what she had expected to hear.
What was it about that boy that made these powerful men take notice? It baffled her to no end. He was handsome, sure—pretty, even—but so were many others.
Well, if it keeps him busy enough to stay away from my Daemon, I'm all for it. Sinai’s lips twisted into a wry smile.
Emerging from the garden, Sinai spotted a group of Greyrock soldiers in formation ahead of her. At their center, she caught sight of Grand Lord Zaiper.
She approached him, a demure smile gracing her features.
"Ah, our lovely mistress, Sinai." Zaiper greeted, his own smile slow and deliberate. "A pleasure to see you."
She curtseyed gracefully. "Welcome back, My Lord. How was your trip?"
"It went well enough. Refreshing, even. But I’m glad to be home. I have missed the fortress."
She fell into step beside him as they walked. "The fortress has missed you as well, My Lord."
"What have I missed in my absence?" Zaiper chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Though why do I ask? It’s not as if you know much about court matters."
Sinai gave a small snort. "No, they do not interest me much, Your Highness." She lowered her voice, leaning closer. "Although, I did hear that your immediate is... battling the feral madness."
Zaiper waved a dismissive hand. “That rumor has been circulating for months. It’s nothing more than idle talk."
"Not this time," Sinai said. "These past few days, he’s locked himself away in his domain. No one has seen him. And there are whispers that just before this isolation, he was roaming the woods... even disappearing into caves."
Zaiper stopped walking, a new glint of interest lighting his eyes.
"I think it’s more than just rumors this time, My Lord. It seems your immediate truly is going feral."
Emeriel slipped into the last of her clothes, catching sight of her reflection in the tall, elegant wooden frame mirror.
A sad, almost bittersweet smile tugged at her lips as she stared at the girl looking back at her. It wasn’t Princess Galilea in the reflection, but Emeriel.
"Thank you," she murmured, sincerely.
The household slaves bowed deeply before filing silently out of the bedchamber. Emeriel sighed.
The servants had drawn her a bath, helped her dress, and assisted with her ablutions. No matter how she hinted or outrightly stated her ability to take care of herself, Lord Herod either ignored her or deflected easily. They even tied her chest bindings.
Emeriel glanced at her chest. The binds were looser than normal, her breasts still tender and swollen from her recent heat. For that, she wore three layers of shirts.
Taking a breath, Emeriel let the moment sink in. Finally. It’s all over.
"Are you ready to go, little one?" Lord Herod’s voice broke the quietness. He stood by the open door, waiting patiently.
She nodded, turning to him. "Thank you for everything."
He leaned against the doorframe. "How does it feel to be going back to the real world?"
Emeriel stared at her reflection once more. She felt... different.
It was hard to put into words, but she didn’t feel like the girl she was before her heat. Usually, she was burdened by the weight of her secrets, by the deceit and guilt. Her every moment was filled with anxiety and fear of being discovered.
But this Emeriel, the one staring back at her in the mirror, simply looked… resigned. Sad and resigned. Guess the sadness never changes.
Perhaps it was because she had finally experienced a taste of what could have been, what she was missing. What was meant to be hers but would never truly belong to her.
It had felt like touching the clouds, reaching for the heavens, only to be reminded that it would never be hers.
It didn't hurt, not the way she expected. For once, pain wasn’t the defining emotion. Maybe because she had been in so much pain these past few days, she had gone numb.
There was this bone-deep sadness. And resignation.
"Emeriel?" Lord Herod’s voice softened as he moved closer. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I’m alright,” she forced herself to smile. “Let’s go, please. I’m sure they must have noticed my absence by now."
Lord Herod studied her a moment longer, then offered his arm, which she took gratefully. Together, they walked through the halls toward the main entrance of the estate. When they reached the gates, Emeriel turned to him.
"Thank you once again for everything," she said softly.
"There we go again. Considering how many times you’ve said that, you sound like a broken record."
"I’m sorry, My Lord," she said. "It’s just... no one has ever been this kind to me before. In the beginning, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It took me a while to realize there was no shoe, and after... everything , it still feels unbelievable. That you would be so kind. I guess it makes me feel better that you see my gratitude."
Lord Herod chuckled. "I see your gratitude, little Em."
"How can I ever repay you?"
He took her by the shoulders and, with a final, amused smile, guided her through the open gates, remaining on the other side. "Repay me when you become the grand queen."
Emeriel’s eyes widened. "You know that’s not possi—"
The heavy doors swung shut, his laughter, fading into the distance as he walked away.
Aekeira sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers entwined in Lord Vladya's hair. He sat on the floor, his head resting on her thighs… close to her core.
A position so crazily intimate it had made her uncomfortable. But as she stroked his black silken strands and he nestled closer, a rush of warmth spread through her chest. She liked.
It seemed now that Aekeira had finally put a name to the nagging feeling inside her, it began to blossom, making a home for itself deep in her heart.
Her love for him shone, forbidden and hidden, but alive nonetheless. Glowing like embers beneath the ashes.
The silence between them was a comfortable one. Lord Vladya still looked like he was struggling with sexlust, but there was no urgency in him now. Eyes closed, but she could tell he wasn't asleep.
"Merilyn was one of my oldest friends," his voice low, unexpected. "I watched her struggle with infertility for centuries."
Aekeira’s fingers stilled in his hair.
"She tried every herb known to man," Lord Vladya continued. "One time, out of desperation, she snuck out of Urai to visit the mages. It was a foolish thing to do, the journey was risky, and she had just one guard for protection. But she was willing to risk everything for the child she wanted so badly."
He was talking to her. Sharing something personal with her. Opening up to her. Aekeira's heart sang.
"The mages couldn't grant her a real pregnancy, they do not have such powers. But they could give a fake one. They performed a spell that made her feel pregnant.” He paused. “That was over a hundred years ago. She returned so happy, even the cost of the magic didn’t sway her joy. Henry was terrified, but Merry... she was glowing with happiness. The magic lasted only a few hours, but in that brief time, she was the happiest I’d ever seen her."
"What was the cost?" Aekeira asked, tone soft, her hand resuming its gentle strokes.
"Paralysis." Lord Vladya’s eyes remained closed. "Merilyn sacrificed the use of her legs for two weeks, just to experience four hours of carrying a child. Basking in the feeling. That was how desperately she wanted what Ukrae finally blessed her with."
No wonder Lady Merilyn radiated such joy, even confined to her bed. Aekeira had a sinking feeling she knew where this conversation was leading.
"She’s my bloodhost, my dear friend. I should be overjoyed for her. I saw everything she went through, I should be ecstatic. And I am happy for her, but..."
His eyes opened, fixed on the wall. “When I look at that child, all I feel is pain. An ugly jealousy, a sadness so deep it festers in me. I’ve never had that. I will never have that." He stated calmly, his tone aloof. "I almost hate that child. What sort of person am I that I would hate an innocent newborn? What sort of friend am I? Who have I become?”
Oh, my Vladya. Aekeira’s heart tightened in her chest. His words might have been detached, clinical even, but she was learning to read the subtle nuances of this male.
He was hurting. More than he was willing to admit.
"What sort of person can't feel true happiness for their friend without these ugly feelings tainting it?” He exhaled, the warm air caressing her thigh. “I've changed, so much. Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I don't recognize the male staring back at me.”
"You should cut yourself some slack." She patted his hair in a soothing manner, offering comfort. "You're suffering through the slow hands of a looming madness." It pained her to say the words, but she forced herself to continue. "I was reading about it the other day at the library. It helped me understand what you're going through. People lose everything they are, bit by bit. All the kindness, love, and memories are slowly stripped away, replaced by hate, cruelty, the need to hurt and destroy. The abyss of nothingness."
She paused, letting that sink in. "Not to mention your soullessness. How much goodness can a person feel when they have no soul?"
Lord Vladya shifted, turning his head to look up at her. His gaze moved slowly, taking her in.
Aekeira reddened as his eyes roamed her face, trailing down her neck and lingering on her breasts. Her nipples peaked under his stare. She made a small, shy sound, raising her hands to cover them.
But the grand lord’s hands were quicker, encircling her wrists and holding them gently but firmly in place.
His eyes dropped downwards, and he stared between her parted thighs.
Aekeira felt utterly exposed, unable to hide.
At last, his wandering eyes came back to her flushed face. "How are you real?”
Before her lust-filled brain could process those words, he rose and crushed his lips on hers.
Emeriel walked the familiar path on the well-trodden trail leading to the fortress. The late afternoon golden sunlight filtered through the trees, casting shadows on the ground. The melodic songs of birds flitting from tree to tree were supposed to fill her with calmness, but she felt... unease.
A prickling sensation crept up the back of her neck. Like the faint brush of unseen eyes watching her every move.
She spun around abruptly, her eyes scanning the woods. Nothing but trees.
"Being away from civilization has me jumping at ghosts that aren’t there," she.
A twig snapped behind her.
Her heart leaped into her throat. It was probably nothing. Yet, Emeriel quickened her pace, glancing behind her a few times, ears straining to catch any sound.
She heard it again. A faint rustling, just beyond the tree line.
Emeriel broke into a run.
She had barely taken more than a few steps when strong arms seized her from behind, lifting her off her feet. She thrashed wildly, catching a brief glimpse of figures clad in black masks. Before she could scream, a hand clamped a cloth over her face.
A sickly scent filled her nostrils, acrid and overpowering. She fought against the growing darkness.
"Got you at last, human," a male voice growled in her ear.