26. Twenty-Six
twenty-six
Erqis had claimed her mirror.
It was the first thing Neira noticed when she entered the throne hall. It certainly didn't look like her mirror anymore, the black frame now gilded with gleaming gold to match the décor, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt it was hers.
The mirror held her attention – not Erqis, waiting for her on the dais, nor the court, with its many eyes on her. Something inside of her reached out for it. It woke, without the customary ripples across the surface as it had in the past, but Neira knew that silk-taloned caress like she knew herself.
Majesty .
Music swelled as she stepped onto the long carpet that lead down the centre of the throne hall. Syndra had proved herself to truly be a master at her craft, and had delivered a wedding dress to last the bards’ songs for an age. The skirts were full, a violaceous hue so deep they appeared nearly black, the bodice a fabric so fine and sheer it may as well have been her own skin tinted purple. Both were overlaid with stiffened gold ribbon, covering her breasts strategically and draping over her arms, dripping with tiny amethysts on golden chains. The same finery had been woven into her hair, pinned back and falling long down her back. She had forgone earrings, but a fine choker sat around her throat.
Neira reached the dais as the orchestra’s final chord lingered in the air. She raised her eyes to Erqis then, and saw him staring down the dais steps at her with an expression on his face she’d never before seen.
The hall was deathly silent. Erqis swallowed hard, then extended a hand to her. His fingers glittered with rings, and for once he was dressed well, in high-waisted trousers and a richly embroidered doublet that matched the deep red Neira’s lips were painted, his brass curls brushing against the high, stiff collar. Even his boots had been polished to a shine.
But in truth, what had caught her attention first were not his glittering eyes, not his expression of open awe – it was the crown on his head. Golden, inlaid with rubies.
She was marrying a king. Before the day was out, she would be queen.
Your wish has been granted, Majesty . The mirror’s amused hiss grasped the back of her neck with gold fingers as she reached out to take Erqis' hand. I look forward to your next desire .
Her fingertips slid against Erqis’ palm before she gripped his hand firmly and ascended the steps. She was still angry at him, there was no denying that. But a second throne had been placed beside the first, the same size although the carvings differed from his. These were more delicate, like Brightmere's mists, a contrast to his lions' manes and flames.
A priest stepped in front of the dais with his holy book and began his ceremonial sermon. Neira didn't now which temple he belonged to, nor did she care.
"I didn't think you'd come," Erqis murmured, trying not to move his lips. His words were almost beneath the priest’s droning.
"And waste this dress?" The way the corners of his lips quirked at her quip did something peculiar to her stomach. "Syndra worked so hard."
"You look beautiful."
"It's incredibly uncomfortable." They were whispering like bored children in a temple, and during such a momentous occasion. Neira felt almost giddy with how silly this was.
The priest paused when Erqis laughed, his face the very picture of reproach. Erqis quickly schooled his features into seriousness. "Thank you, anyway,” he continued, once the priest resumed his sermon. “For coming. And dressing like this."
"I made you a promise."
“You did.”
Other brides, perhaps, would have faced their wedding with happiness, excitement. Neira was facing hers with serene purpose. This wasn’t a love match. There wasn’t a single person in this room who believed it to be anything other than what it was: the logical conclusion of Erqis’ campaign, the best outcome for the princess of a defeated realm.
But the ring Erqis presented her with certainly looked like it belonged at the ending of a beautiful fairy tale, pale gold, flawless and shining, set with a large opal surrounded by clusters of smaller crystals.
A matching one, just as flashy and gem-crusted, sat on Erqis' finger a moment later.
"Kiss your wife, and crown your queen."
It had been so long since Erqis had kissed her last. That had been her own fault, truly, but now Neira found herself craving it, longing for the touch of his mouth. Her simmering anger with him was forgotten, just for a moment, when he stepped even closer and rested his forehead against hers.
From the corner of her eye, she could see some of the nobles smiling and nodding, others wiping tears from their eyes, as if they truly did believe this the fairy tale it was orchestrated to appear.
Neira was inclined to let them believe it, if just for today.
When Erqis finally did kiss her, it was tender, a long, soft cling of lips – certainly not the inferno his mouth had been the last time, not deep and warm enough to make Neira’s lashes flutter, to find herself lost in the moment far enough that she had to squeeze his hands to ground herself again.
He led her to the thrones and gallantly held her hand as she sat on the cushion.
The crown that the priest presented on a velvet cushion was one she recognised – one of her own, gleaming black obsidian spikes and dark sapphires inlaid in the back.
"King Erqis of Malvea."
Arrogant, to name himself king over the entire continent when half the realms hadn't even yielded to him yet. But then, arrogance suited him.
Reverently, Erqis lifted the crown from the cushion and placed it upon her head, the dark stone it had been hewn from cool on her brow. Her heart raced in her throat.
"Queen Neira of Malvea."
The hall erupted into cheers. She was inclined to believe them.
If just for today.
Erqis sat beside her, reaching over to take her hand again. He hid his grin behind her knuckles, lips brushing her new ring. “Remember my lesson,” he purred, just loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “Nice and relaxed.”
Heat rose sharp and dizzying. All Neira could do was give him a glare, however, as the first aristocrats approached to bend their knees to the new queen.
But the unbending line of her shoulders eased, just a little.
The ceremony had been followed by a lavish banquet – not that she could eat very much, laced into her form-fitting gown as she was. The fabric looked delicate but it held firm, especially with ribbons that felt about as flexible as steel. She wouldn't put it past Syndra to have actually used metal for them, deceptively making them look like fabric.
Afterwards, there was drinking and dancing, accepting wedding presents from the noble houses, more dancing. More drinking. It was nearing midnight by the time they departed from their noble guests, long after their faces and names and affiliations had blended into mist in her mind.
In the hall of the royal wing, Erqis wrapped an arm around Neira’s waist and tucked her into his side.
"I can't wait to spend the night with you again," he breathed against her ear.
Despite herself, Neira grinned; despite the fact she should be furious with him, despite her aching feet. "Don't forget my promise."
He laughed, his eyes bright. "If I don't tire you out enough in the next few hours to forget all about your murderous plot, you deserve the chance."
They stopped in front of her door. Erqis cupped her face and kissed her, hungrily, his tongue curling into her mouth.
"Don't keep me waiting." And then he prowled further down the corridor to enter his own rooms, glancing back only the once.
Susa and Aubri were awake, ready to prepare their mistress for her wedding night. The gown was peeled off of her with careful hands, the jewellery plucked from her hair and throat, and Aubri carefully detangled the crown from her hair. Neira took the offered damp cloth and wiped the cosmetics from her face. Cool as it was, it did nothing to take from her cheeks the heat the wine had put in them.
"We will be here in the morning for you, your Majesty," Susa promised, bringing over a silken robe for Neira to slide into. "Whenever you are ready."
Aubri escorted her to Erqis' door. "Enjoy your night, your Majesty."
Neira had no doubt that she would.
Erqis was already shirtless and barefoot, prowling towards her the moment she opened the door. "My wife."
"Don't push it." A gasp escaped her when he grasped her waist and buried his face in her neck.
"I've been dying to touch you again, Neira."
"Good." She wanted him malleable. Vulnerable. Desperate for her. Neira undid the knot that held the robe closed and shrugged it off. Her crown was gone, her stockings, the golden harness – all that was left was the sheer, corseted bodice. Erqis groaned as if she had punched him. "Touch me."
His gaze flickered over her, unsure where to look first. Her nipples, flushed and threatening to break free of the corset's upper hem with each of her breaths; the way the corset cinched her waist; or the generous swell of her bare hips and thighs, where his hands had migrated, greedily squeezing at her flesh.
He fell to his knees heavily instead, burying his face against her naked cunt, and Neira felt close to her peak at the mere act of his eager submission. She leaned back against the door, tipped her head back against it, groaned her pleasure when Erqis sank his teeth into the meat of her thigh. He turned her so quickly that she barely had the wherewithal to catch herself against the door.
Erqis forced her feet further apart with his knees, grasped the back of her thighs just under where her cheeks began, and laved his almost scalding tongue against her, clit to tailbone. And again. And again, before biting one of her cheeks, each tooth like the touch of hot iron. He chuckled when Neira jumped with a startled yelp, more vibration against her damp skin than sound.
"I should have gotten you naked before this," he murmured, his fingers tight against her thighs. His breath fanned against her like gusts of desert wind, dry and searing. "Gods, you're exquisite."
He hadn't touched her ever since she had demanded her own room in the inn at Breakshore, and Neira had been too proud, and too preoccupied, to ask for his attention since – but gods, her body was blooming like a long-neglected flower now. She could feel her core melting, providing an easy glide when Erqis pushed two fingers into her, dragged his roughened fingertips against her sensitive inner walls.
Neira pressed her forehead against the door with a deep groan. Whatever he was doing, something in the way he touched her made her body react, clenching around his fingers greedily, her position so vulnerable she would've clenched her thighs together – if his knees weren't keeping her feet apart like they were.
"Gods…"
Erqis hummed behind her, trailed his tongue along her seam again until he could kiss the small of her back, always touching, always finding the most sensitive spots. Each stroke brought her higher, closer, and when the deep muscles in her belly began tightening… Erqis stood, both his hands on her hips as he whirled her around.
The king tasted like fire when his lips crashed to hers, like heat, and she couldn't tell whether her own taste was mixed into that or if his flames had incinerated everything he had lapped up.
"I'm not going to make you say it," Erqis murmured against her mouth, between kisses that burned her to her core. "But I can tell how much you want this."
Neira scowled, but she wouldn't make herself a liar. Her hands ran against his arms, up his chest, until she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him in again, close enough that he couldn't antagonise her further.
Because he was right, and that was the worst part of it.
Erqis dragged her away from the door, their trek into his bedroom slow and ponderous. He refused to let go of her, wouldn't stop kissing her, and more than once they almost tripped over something that had been left in the way.
He loomed over her like a predator in the firelight when Neira found herself on her back in his bed, the flickering candles bathing him in gold as rich as the crown he had worn earlier. His fingers walked up her side, rasped over the stiff fabric, a phantom touch.
"We'll keep this on." Erqis caught an escaped nipple in his mouth, still so scalding that Neira arched up with a hiss, and that distracted her enough that when she opened her eyes next he was climbing onto the bed completely bare.
She had never seen his cock before, had only felt it between her thighs that one night. Neira got the barest glimpse of it now, nicely thick and perfectly hard, before Erqis tipped her chin up to kiss her again, ravenous. He made space for himself between her thighs and then dragged the thick head against her.
Need slammed into her so hard Neira gasped for air. Her nails dug into the back of Erqis' biceps and all it did was make him chuckle, half a growl thrumming through the sound.
"I've got you. Don't worry."
She wasn't worrying. She wasn't anything if he didn't spear her right the fuck now . "Please…"
"I don't think I've ever heard you say that," he said, his voice ragged as he strained for the words. Even as she raked her nails over his skin for the quip, he was grinning ear to ear. "Mark me all you want, my Queen."
Erqis shifted again, pulled her knee against his side, and then the tip of his cock was slotting against her, finding purchase… sliding home in one delicious stretch that made her keen.
Nothing had ever felt like this. Neira arched, and Erqis' dropped his head into the crook of her neck, moaning against her sweat-damp skin. He pulled back, just as slowly as he'd entered, and then set an almost tentative rhythm, nothing at all like the fiery passion he'd devoured her with at the door.
Gleaming light seemed to spark along her nerves, filling her with fire. There was an urgency that the slow pace didn't quite meet, and before she could devise a plan, her body had decided for her: she wrapped her legs around his hips as firmly as she could for leverage and rocked against him, aiming to roll them over so she could take what she needed from him.
Erqis placed a hand over her collarbones, pinning her to the mattress. "No."
So close to her throat that the side of his index finger brushed it, but low enough to allow her to breathe.
"Go faster, then."
"Are you really in a position to make demands, Neira?"
Gods, that grin was infuriating. She scowled, the severe look surely softened by the heat in her cheeks, a heat that flooded down her chest, the way one of her breasts had escaped the corset while the other hadn't, but Erqis relented. He sat up on his knees and curled his arms around her thighs, pressed the back of them firmly against his front.
And then he rutted into her so hard and fast she would have slid across the bed had he not had such a hold on her. Neira felt her eyes rolls back, her hands shooting out to grasp the sheets, the pillows, anything within reach.
Erqis proved relentless once provoked. Every muscle stood in hard relief, his eyes bright and fixed on her, and those little sparks fanned into an inferno that had her keening and shuddering.
Only when her muscles slackened, her head filled with a bright, pleasurable haze, did Erqis spread her legs again so he could watch how her cunt swallowed him, how flushed and open he had made her, how his cock glistened whenever he pulled back.
"Beautiful," he murmured, stroking one hand up her thigh to press his thumb against her clit.
It made her whimper, the sensitive nerves overly stimulated still, and he met her dark, liquid eyes with a smugness Neira couldn't even begrudge him. He kept stroking her until she seized around him again, and only then buried himself deep and hard three, four times again. Erqis all but bent in half over her, his curls falling into his face as he moaned his peak, his hips stuttering against hers, one of his hands pressed against her lower abdomen as if he could feel himself throbbing through her flesh.
Gods, he was gorgeous. His skin was gleaming with sweat in the candlelight, such bliss on his handsome face, the green-gold of his eyes darkened under his lowered lashes, his broad chest heaving.
Neira swallowed around the tightening in her throat. She waited for him to fall onto the bed at her side and for the trembling of her own limbs to ease before scooting towards the edge of the bed.
Better to nip this right in the bud, even if it meant wiping that boyish awe off his face.
"Where are you going?"
She sat on the edge of the mattress, grimacing at the slow, wet trickle between her thighs. "I fulfilled this part of our deal," she told him, in as unaffected a tone as she could manage. "I wear your crown and your ring, and our marriage is consummated. And now, I am going to bed."
There was a beat of silence behind her, one that stretched painfully.
"Are you sure?" Carefully measured, those words, without any of their usual humour.
Neira felt terrible then. "It's late."
The sheets rustled. She didn't move as his hand slid against her hip, and a soft kiss was pressed to the small of her back. "Good night."
She left without another word.