Chapter 25 Calluna #2
For her siblings, control exerted upon others would fade the moment they broke their concentration. Not so with Calluna. She didn’t know if it was a gift unique to her, or a talent born of hundreds of years of practice, but the commands she gave others would remain upon them, sometimes for years.
“Of course,” the man said, and he smiled at her. “Isabelle’s working herself ragged leading Leliel’s army. She deserves a reward for that effort.”
“Right,” Calluna said, and laughed as if he’d just said the funniest thing. “But no one can know, so could you please go distract your friend over there? I’d hate to ruin the surprise.”
“Yeah, of course, good thinking.”
The soldier waved at her and then trudged to the other nearby soldier watching the entrance, striking up a conversation. Calluna hurried past them through the open flaps of the enormous tent.
The furnishing was what a queen could expect of an army on the move. A simple bed with fine, sturdy sheets. A table containing multiple maps and leaflets of paper with notes and figures. A small dresser containing a handful of outfits. All of it could be quickly loaded onto a wagon come morning.
Calluna approached the bed, nervousness mixing with a perverse thrill in her mind. Sariel had been alone with her. Did that mean…?
She buried her face in the sheets and inhaled deeply.
No, no scent of sex. No sweat, no semen, just a bit of dust and a hint of lavender soap.
Calluna was shocked by the strength of her relief…
as well as a tiny hint of disappointment.
Whoever this Bastard Queen was, she didn’t deserve her immortal brother’s adoration.
But to have been so close, to lie upon the same bed they had lain upon, to smell the proof of their lust…
“What are you doing?”
Calluna spun about, clutching the blanket as if she had been caught nude. Isabelle stood in the tent entrance, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Not drawn, for now. Her golden eyes narrowed into a glare.
“My things are not to be rifled through, little thief.”
“I’m no thief,” Calluna said, better observing Isabelle now that they were so close.
Stars help her, she was beautiful. There was something almost unnatural about the perfect curve of her chin, the swell of her breasts, and the thick flow of her hair.
It unnerved Calluna. No. Worse. It frightened her, which was baffling.
“A trespasser, at the least,” Isabelle said. She stepped aside from the entrance. “I will show mercy and let you leave, so long as you let my guards search you thoroughly.”
Calluna slowly approached the queen. Her shoulders hunched, and she took little, uncertain steps.
She knew how to make herself seem young and small.
Her confidence steadily returned. What reason had she to be frightened of this woman?
It didn’t matter that she was a queen, or that she wielded a sword.
Everyone danced once Calluna lashed them with her radiant threads.
“Yes, yes, thank you, Your Grace,” she said, pretending to be demure.
Meanwhile, heat built in her abdomen. She stared at Isabelle’s figure, imagining her on her knees and stripped naked.
Calluna’s fingers twitched and curled. Surely Sariel desired her, but if Calluna had her body first, experienced what her brother had not…
there was power in that. A message beyond merely delaying the intended war against Eder.
“You are most kind,” Calluna continued. The weight of her hidden dagger felt heavy against her thigh. Not yet. Not until the end. She stepped closer. Closer. When but a few feet away, she dropped to her knees, bowed her head, and lifted her hands.
“Please, will you accept my penance?” she asked. Her voice trembled, and she added a flash of silver to each word. “I… I only sought to meet she whom the goddess has chosen.”
She stared at the dirt, waiting, trusting.
Isabelle’s hands closed about hers.
“Give me your name, child, and I will pray it tonight when I retire to my bed.”
Calluna looked up and locked eyes with the woman.
“I am no child,” she said. Threads of radiance, so thick and bright they were visible to the human eye, spiked through Isabelle’s palms. They swirled like cast spider silk, wrapping about her wrists and elbows, and then came even more, crawling like tentacles, working toward her face and neck.
Calluna let the stars shine full in her eyes as she issued her commands.
“You will make not a sound,” she said. “You will not run. You will obey.”
The threads swirled higher, Calluna’s will pulsing through them, reaching greedily for Isabelle’s heart and mind. Her pulse raced with excitement. Petr would be nothing compared to this woman. To see her kneel, to see her obedient, feeling the warmth of her breath and the softness of her tongue…
“I will not.”
Calluna’s entire mind tore in half. The threads recoiled. Golden light shone from Isabelle’s eyes, matching the silver from the stars within Calluna’s. The queen pulled her hands free, and she retreated a step while drawing her sword. The ringing of steel echoed in Calluna’s ears.
“I don’t know who you are,” she said, the sword unsteady in her grasp. She sounded shaken, and uncertain, but still very much in control. “But I obey only my goddess.”
Calluna sprinted past her, out the tent and past the two guards.
She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand.
No one could resist her, no one had ever resisted her, the only ones who could deny her threads were her own siblings, she knew because she had tried , just once, she had tried, and Sariel had been so furious…
Tears streamed down her face as she descended the hill. A nightmare awaited her at the bottom. Faron, climbing up, apparently to meet with the queen. He froze in place, shocked to see her as she stumbled mid-run.
“Calluna?” he asked.
“Apprehend her!” Isabelle shouted from up high. Faron glanced between her and the queen, and then he knew. He knew. Anger and disappointment formed a cruel mask over her kind brother’s face.
“You never should have come here, Calluna,” he said, reaching for his sword.
“ Stop! ” she screamed at him, all her power flooding into the cry to create a shock wave of confusion and hesitation that sent soldiers tumbling to their knees. Not her brother, of course. And somehow, not the queen.
But Calluna was faster than either of them, and she sprinted through the camp, weaving and ducking past baffled soldiers and scattered tents.
She ran, and ran, and ran. Failed. She had failed.
War would come, and now her brothers knew what she had tried.
They would be watching for her now. Ready for her.
Calluna fled to the wilds, hating Faron, hating Sariel, hating herself and her tears, flowing without end.