Chapter 5
CHAPTER
5
On the return home, with each stride Rain took, I felt a mixture of yearning and soreness between my thighs as my center rocked back and forth against the leather saddle. I longed for the feel of Gris between me and struggled to concentrate as I was overcome with flashbacks of what had just occurred.
I fixated on the thoughts of us riding each other as I urged my horse into a faster pace. I thought if I could get a serious distance between myself and his home, I might finally be able to calm myself. I felt as if I hadn’t taken a breath since I parted from him.
All of this was overwhelming. I knew that I had the biggest grin stitched across my face. I was undeniably blushing as I replayed the moment his fingertips pressed into me. I needed to concentrate or I was going to fall off my horse.
By now, the bright sun of day was beating down on me and my body was dripping in sweat under the heavy velvet gown. I wanted to tear the clothes from my skin and drown myself in the relief of a cool bath. I felt so accomplished, despite the tinge of guilt. I had checked the first item off my list.
Once I could see my home in the distance, my mind turned toward all the things I wanted to tell Versa, but also how I needed to contain myself once I arrived. I hoped that I did not have the same glow that Versa did when she returned home from the time she had lost her maidenhead.
As Rain trotted onward, I kept making up little lies and excuses I could say about where I had been or what I’d been up to. But lying was not my talent, and I’d rather just decompress in a nice cold bath before having to face anyone at all, even Versa.
When I arrived inside our gates, I dismounted from Rain and again felt the small twinge of pain, a reminder of Gris and what he had done to me.
The stable hand walked up to me and I tried my best to conceal my embarrassment. I handed over the reins and quickly turned to head inside without a word.
I took the long way around to the back, through one of the gardens, and figured I’d sneak in through the kitchen entry. Peeking my head in the door, I saw no one of consequence and sauntered through the kitchen. Before exiting, I grabbed a piece of fruit off the counter since my appetite had become ferocious on the ride home.
I scurried as quickly as possible up the winding stone staircase, trying not to trip over the length of my dress. I would be thrilled once my body was rid of this frock.
I entered my room and closed the door quietly to not alert anyone nearby who might hear my arrival. I practically ripped the dress off at the seams to free my overheated body from this cloth cage.
Once naked, I went to the tub with the canteen Gris had filled for me. I did not want to call any of my lady’s maids to fill it. I wanted to be utterly alone. I poured a small amount of water from the canteen into the large oval bath. I bent down on my knees and held my hand just above the tiny pool of water.
I knew I wasn’t supposed to do this, the voices of my professors lecturing me echoed in the back of my mind, but I didn’t care. It was one of the few things I was capable of. I closed my eyes and focused all my energy and thoughts. I imagined the water growing higher and higher, filling the walls of the copper tub.
I concentrated on how it would feel once it reached my fingertips and surrounded my entire hand. Within an instant, the magic manifested into reality and I could feel the chill of the water rising, expanding, enveloping my wrist, then farther up my arm till I opened my eyes, and before me the crisp bathwater brimmed to the edges. It was considered wasteful to use magic on frivolities such as filling one’s bath, but it’s not like I squandered my limited abilities regularly.
Unlike this morning’s lavender oil, this time I reached for orange as I wanted to drown myself in the scent of Gris. I set my piece of fruit on the small table next to the bath and dipped my feet in one by one.
A shiver ran up my spine and I rolled my shoulders, trying to let the tension slide away. I sat down, submerging myself, and felt brief arousal as the temperature of the water made my nipples peak. Gods, would it be like this from now on, where even the smallest things set me off?
I rested my head against the back of the tub and watched as the citrus oils swirled in the pool of water around me. I reached for the ripe plum, and when I took a bite, the sweet flavor made my mouth water and I felt like I might never taste something this delicious again. Everything felt heightened now, and I needed to come down.
While nibbling leisurely on the plum, I closed my eyes and once again found myself replaying the scene in my head. I’m certain that everything Gris found insignificant about the encounter were the things I could not stop obsessing over.
Like the way he tilted his head back and groaned as he lost himself in his pleasure. The veins straining along his neck and how his strong hands gripped the bedsheets beside me. Finally free of the lust-filled intoxication, I was able to recollect even more detail.
I blushed at the memory of his voice having the slightest tremble when he gazed up at me and said I looked stunning above him. All of these little memories would serve as inspiration for those private moments with just me.
When I was able to pull myself from the dreamlike state, I was left with the sore feeling. Part of me wanted to leave it as a reminder to myself, but for that same reason I knew I shouldn’t ignore it in case it became an unwanted distraction when I had much more to accomplish.
I dipped my hand below the chilled water and hovered it just between my thighs. I closed my eyes again and concentrated on eliminating the tiny, dull sting that lingered there. I felt a warmth right below the place my hand hovered and nowhere else, and quickly, the pain receded. The exertion made me tired and a bit dizzy. Expelling energy for small magic was proof that I did not have the endurance to pull off anything of consequence.
When I stepped out of the bath, I stood for a while naked in front of the mirror, glancing at myself from all angles. This morning where I might have felt insecure, I now felt fully rooted in my feminine body. I admired myself instead of passing judgment on every little flaw I could find. I looked at myself knowingly, that I had brought a male to his arousal. A handsome one that many desired.
I smirked at myself with a pride that I hoped would last. It was much more pleasant to finally look in the mirror with kindness. I could see out my window that the heat of the day was finally starting to let up as signs of early evening were upon us. My body was still taut, and for that reason, I did not wear my usual trousers and blouse but instead an extremely lightweight flowy dress that wouldn’t cling to a single part of my body. Something much more comfortable and relaxing.
When I exited my room, I found my way to Versa’s across the hall because I wanted to see her before supper. When I gently knocked on the door, I heard her sweet voice welcome me, “Come in!”
When I found her, she was sprawled out on the floor below a bay window, one that matched mine only facing the east instead of the west. It had been hours since I left her, yet she was still obsessing over sketches of gowns.
I plopped down beside her. “You still haven’t made a decision?” I asked, trying not to sound disinterested.
I grabbed some of the drawings and thumbed through them. They were all beautiful, and there wasn’t a single one that she wouldn’t look amazing in.
She turned to me with a frustrated sigh, “I just want to look perfect for him. But I’m pretty sure the dress he’d love is not my first choice.”
She reluctantly handed me two sheets of very different-looking dresses. The first had a large, round skirt with layer upon layer of fabric. It seemed heavy, with ornate beading and crystals covering almost every inch of it. I shuddered to think how difficult it would be to dance in, and that’s all there is to do at a wedding ball. Stuff your face, drink yourself silly on Fae wine, and dance.
The other dress was form-fitting and the skirt, while long, was simple, elegant, and flowy. It was off-the-shoulder and had only a sprinkling of crystals in all the right places. I didn’t want to tell my sister which one I preferred in case that wasn’t the one she favored, so I questioned, “They’re both lovely, but which one is your favorite?”
I prayed she wouldn’t ask me to guess.
She scoffed. “Of course this one,” she exclaimed, pointing at the simpler of the two.
I sighed in relief. “I completely agree, go with that one.”
She threw both pieces of paper up in the air exasperated. “It’s not…loud enough,” she proclaimed. “This is the joining of two prominent families, one of which will make the other’s son High Fae. Two families of new money. You know how we will be judged if we do not appear to honor tradition and if we don’t make a spectacle of ourselves. He, and likely his parents, are expecting it of me.”
I understood what she meant, and it finally dawned upon me why she was obsessed over every little detail. She was doing her best to bring honor to our house’s name.
As part of the merchants guild, my father did not inherit his wealth nor was he born of Royal blood. He built a fortune of his own making, as did the family my sister was betrothed into. Even though the Royal bloodlines would be invited, it would be a shock if they actually attended. But that didn’t mean the gossip wouldn’t spread and they’d hear if the wedding had respected the old ways or not.
I’m sure our dear mother had opinions on all of this, but she was likely doing her best to give Versa the illusion of choice while she made decisions behind the scenes that would be in keeping with trying to impress all the High Houses. One such example would be making sure that only the best dressmaker was hired. One who had several commissions from the Royals and would be loose-lipped during their many encounters with the High Ladies.
I put my hand on hers. “Why not choose both?” She looked at me with confusion. “What says wealth and regalness more than wearing not one, but two wedding dresses?”
She was starting to understand what I was alluding to and a sly smile began to form across her face, stretching ear to pointed ear as her eyes widened with excitement.
I continued, “Wear the heavy gown during the ceremony at the beginning of the evening, until your first dance. Slip away in secrecy and change into the other dress that you love. Wear that for your first dance.”
By now my suggestion had her glowing with delight. “Don’t tell your betrothed; only Mother and Father must know. It should be a complete surprise, and I assure you there won’t be a gossiper within a hundred miles that won’t have your name spouting from their tongue for weeks to come.”
She clutched the two sketches in her hand, now staring at them with admiration and wonder.
She whispered to herself, “I will be the most talked about bride in ages, and the little Fae girls will remember the bride who refused to choose, who was both traditional and modern.”
In her excitement, she turned to me with a giddy squeal. “Oh, Cress, do you think it will start a trend? Do you think someday they will all start wearing two dresses?”
What had started as a mere suggestion to help my sister get out of an indecisive slump had now become her mission to make her mark on the wedding scene of the High Fae. I rolled my eyes at her and she nudged my shoulder playfully.
Finally, she looked at me. Really looked at me, for the first time since I had entered the room. It did not surprise me since her wedding distractions were constant.
“Something about you is different,” she posed. She began squinting her eyes at me and tilting her head with assessment. “Why do you look so happy? You never smile this much. And you’re helping me with wedding stuff.”
Her accusations about my appearance made me want to hide and cover my face immediately. Before I could pull away, she clutched my arm tightly and gave me that accusatory use of my full name, “Cressida Blackthorn…”
“I’ve been with Gris.” I stated plainly.
A perplexed expression spread across her face, because she knew Gris was practically like a brother to us, a lifelong friend and nothing more.
“What do you mean you’ve ‘been with Gris,’ is that where you went earlier? Oh, did you go to say goodbye to him?”
Ugh, sometimes my sister could be so dense.
“No, Versa, I’ve been with Gris…” I elongated my words, trying to make a point.
My sister’s eyes widened like saucers as she realized what I meant. “You can’t be serious? You slept with Gris. Gris was your first?”
I didn’t know if she was saying it like it was a bad thing, or if she truly couldn’t believe that Gris was the one to secure my maidenhead after all this time.
“Yes, it’s true. I called in our bargain. You know, that silly one we made about being with one another after our one hundredth name day.”
I had told Versa about this in passing, and she always thought it humorous and pointless as she said neither of us would end up alone after that many years.
Puzzled, Versa pried further, “Don’t get me wrong, he is gorgeous and you certainly could have done worse. But why Gris, why now?”
The answer to that seemed obvious to me, and yet my sister was still oblivious to the reality of what was happening to me since she was engulfed with wedding planning. This distraction worked in my favor, and it was probably the only thing keeping her from noticing anything was off about me and our parents.
“Well, I’m going to be at sea for a long time and amongst strangers. I just wanted to get it over with,” I lied as best I could, weaving small truths into the narrative.
She remained silent and attentive. “Gris was the best option. I trusted him and he’ll keep it a secret.”
Versa folded her arms and gave me a smirk.
“What?” I threw my hands up in exasperation.
“Details, sister, I need details!”
Finally, I exhaled, worried that Versa was displeased with me. All I wanted to do was pore over each detail with her, like she had with me after all those nights she’d crawled in through my bedroom window.
Now we convened, laying on the floor of her room surrounded by crumpled wedding dress sketches. We stared at the pastel floral fresco paintings adorning the ceiling while I recalled to her, in explicit detail, each amazing memory of my first time with Gris.
She questioned me and we giggled for what seemed like hours until twilight filled her windows and I could hear Father yelling for her to come to dinner.
They hadn’t realized I was home and would be joining them after all. I gave a knowing look to Versa and said, “If anyone asks, I went riding all day.”
She winked at me and pulled me up from the floor to head downstairs for dinner.
My parents were pleasantly surprised to see me at dinner. Versa did a fantastic job of leading the conversation in her direction with talks of her soon-to-be infamous wedding dress swap. I was grateful that I didn’t have to spend too much time lying about being out riding all day. Well, I was out riding something… I snickered to myself. As the meal concluded, I witnessed my mother arguing with our chef in the corner of the dining room as staff cleared our plates. It was unlike her to have such a brash attitude, especially toward our cook. She bragged over his elaborate delicacies any chance she could; it was peculiar to see her terse dismissal of him.
Before retiring to my room for the evening, I found my father pacing the expansive hallways connecting mine and Versa’s rooms to the other wings of the household. His clothes looked crumpled and his hair a bit messy, which was far from his normal appearance. He began to approach me, but then quickly turned back around, heading in the direction opposite my room like he had changed his mind.
Before shutting my door, Versa poked her head into the hallway and gave me a questioning look that said, Will you be sneaking out a window this evening? I rolled my eyes at her and shut my door without addressing her taunt. I was too tired from the weight of this day to do anything but retire to my bed and seek comfort in the softness of my silk sheets.
My body was sore, tired, but also ached to fill the absence. The incredible absence of Gris. I kept telling myself he was a means to an end. Stop fixating on him. I rolled to my side and reached for the tiny book on my bedside table where I had hidden the small piece of paper with my list.
I was more than pleased with myself when I crossed off the very top item. My tired eyes began scanning over what remained. There was only one thing on the list that wasn’t entirely selfish of me; I figured it made sense to at least prioritize that. I lay in bed that night as the moonslight blanketed the pale marble floor, thinking about all the wealth contained in my room alone.
Wealth, after all, is what made our family Honored Fae, members of the High Court. At a certain point in history, the king of our land couldn’t ignore the benefits of having allies not just of royal blood, but also those who held fortunes of their own. There would always be a divide, though. Us and them, the Honored Fae and the Royal Fae. It was extremely political because in terms of land, treatment, and respect, all High Court families were equal. But beyond the eyes of the king, these two sides would always remain divided.
The Royals found it distasteful to allow their children to marry outside of Royal bloodlines. They scoffed at invitations to attend major parties or weddings hosted by the Honored Fae and, oftentimes, these invitations were only extended to maintain a facade of pleasantries.
This is why I didn’t know many of the Royal families of the High Court, because they didn’t mingle with our kind. Additionally, when our family was called to court, it was standard practice that only one generation at a time travel to Aeon’s castle or palaces in order to protect the lines of succession. My mother and father always traveled with heavy security in tow.
Sadly, a lot of the High Fae families had been intentionally killed off during the war, so the Royal and Honored families were especially keen to protect those that remained. Many High Fae families had to relocate when peacetime resumed to spread farther out and maintain governance over all the territories.
Despite the Royals being invited to attend Versa’s nuptials, it would be unlikely that they’d make any appearances. But boy did they love to gossip and one-up each other. The Honored Fae lived on the cusp, always trying to be acknowledged or buy their way into acceptance.
The Royals were secretive and conniving, often avoiding sending their children to the same academies, instead opting to provide private education. Years and years of deeply-held beliefs passed down from one generation to another, creating endless cycles of unwarranted division.
Regardless, at the end of the day, we were all the king’s pawns. This had never been more evident to me, now knowing I would be called to the Offering. It didn’t matter your bloodline or your fortune, all would be required to make a sacrifice.
I folded my list and placed it back inside my book. My eyelids were heavy, and as I rolled onto my side to pull my pillow into my chest, I thought of Gris and his formidable muscular frame and how nice it would be to feel his warmth cradled against me under the soft sheets. I drifted off to sleep, hoping if I kept his handsome features in my mind’s eye, I’d be lucky enough to dream of him.