Bound and Broken

- 5 -

Aelon's P.O.V.

“Ari, Miri,” I said, standing up straight and looking down at the spent pair splayed back on my now crumpled bedding. “You two are excused,” I watched as Ari’s breasts heaved with every breath, staring with mad hunger as the ravenous beast in my loins threatened to rise to life once more. No matter the closeness or the ecstasy involved, I never left my sessions with the pleasure slave satisfied. 

What a shame. I sighed and looked them both over once more, my gaze falling back to Ari. She truly was beautiful, but something in me always craved more and she was a delicate plaything. I did so hate when I broke my toys beyond repair. I suppose that was why I kept using these two as a pair. Miri’s muscular form was sturdy enough to take some of my more primal desires without much fuss. A smile crept to my lips and my eyes met Ari’s for a brief moment. Unlike Miri, she hadn’t moved since I excused them and all I had to do was raise an eyebrow at her. 

When the woman eventually stood without complaint, I watched as she dressed again and turned to face me. “Thank you, Your Highness,” the pair said in unison with an obedient bow. My trousers sat loosely on my hips, and my bare chest was slick with sweat from the entanglement so recently completed. I dismissed the woman with a wave and waited until I heard the door of my chambers click shut before rising to pull on a loose undershirt and stepping through the connecting archway that led into my personal study. 

Blessed, blessed silence. 

That was the only thing that graced my ears now. The other morning when Mother left for the docks with her carriage and her personal servants in tow, it was like a blistering racquet chiming in my very head the whole while. Her entourage always did have the worst habit of making such the racket. It was especially irritating that my northern windows in my private study looked out over the main courtyard. Which just so happened to be the windows where my writing desk was sat to get a good arching view of the land.

But what truly set my blood to boil was the thought of that damned pleasure slave Devra. He was too smart for his own good, and I was certain that he was on to me. I needed to ensure his silence one way or another.

I had pulled several of the old texts from her private library after she’d gone, hoping that she wouldn’t notice their missing spines in the walls of books that she hoard all to herself. If I had to be honest with myself, it was likely that she wouldn’t notice them. Mother hardly ever read any of the books, she simply collected them so that others could not possess them in her place. But Devra noticed. He had approached me that same night after a new purchase was brought to the castle, daring to look me in the eyes with a defiant look of knowing on his tanned brow. 

Of course, he could prove nothing, and I made it as clear when he tried to speak on the subject again this morning. He didn’t know what I had taken, or why. And once I confirmed that I was confident that my extra-curricular studies would remain unnoticed by my family. And if they did find out, I knew who I could take it out on.

I stood staring at my pilfered prizes now. The black leather cover of one I had pored over the night before was still firm from a lack of use, the leather not worn or softened by hands over time. It was a pity, really. This knowledge could serve me well in my rule as King one day, if only she let it free. With a huff, I sat at my writing desk and carefully cracked open the next one in the pile. My eyes narrowed over the markings on the title page, old runes that I could not decipher. Just like the first one.

“Damn,” I whispered to myself, carefully flipping through the pages one by one to see more of the same. Diagrams and passages were all written in a language I could hardly begin to comprehend. Though the sight of it did stir a mild throbbing in the base of my skull. It was faint, but ever present as I closed the book and moved on to the next one. It had felt like centuries as I skimmed through the entire stack of books, nearing the end of my pilfered educational texts. A glance up through my open window let me see the knights beginning their training in the courtyard. If their training had already begun, then I was certainly going to be late for my daily appointments.

I stowed the ones already sifted through under my arm as I moved back through the archway into my main bed chamber. The books were carefully placed on the corner of a tall armoire there, out of sight of the chambermaids.

“One of these has to have more about magic in it that I can understand,” I said, looking down and to my left at the gray hunting dog that kept me company in my chambers. His old muzzle lifted and he let out a low grunt, clearly displeased that I’d disturbed his sleep. “Right,” I scoffed in reply. “Not like you could help.” How that had disturbed him when my morning dalliances had not, I will never understand. 

A knock rang at my chamber doors and I nearly toppled over the stacks of books I’d just moments ago placed. A scramble of hands caught the bound pages before they fell, and I pushed them further back away from the edge. I cleared my throat and smoothed over the collar of my undershirt before calling out in a deep and commanding voice. “Enter,” I barked, slicking back my light hair with my free hand, hiding my trembling one behind my back. 

When the door creaked open, the old face of Celvin peered through the opening with the same measured patience that he’d held since my childhood. The footman was a loyal one to my family, and was often one of the first people to see me to the feast hall in the morning. It was no wonder that he would be the one to seek me out for oversleeping. 

“Your Highness,” he stated with a bow, deep and somber as always. 

“Celvin,” I replied with a polite incline of my chin. “I believe I had given you the day off. Had I not?” A raise of my brow seemed to irk the old man, who merely huffed in aggravation.

“Sir,” he continued. He was one of few who could be excused for such casual language with me, seeing as how familiar with me he was. I allowed Clevin that leniency “Her Majesty the Queen bade me come and find you.”

“Is that so?” My tone bore a soft chuckle of amusement. Had Devra spoken up so soon? Or was this in reference to the whispers of a new prize living in the castle that I’d heard over dinner. 

“Yes, Sir.” My hound stood and stretched at the servant’s voice, moving to sniff at the man before he returned to my side like the obedient beast he was. I suppose that something in my tone had prompted him to take his seat at my side. Calvin paused, looking down to the creature only once before clearing his throat and continuing. “She wished to remind you of your meeting with the Chaplain.” Calvin’s lips barely twitched, but for a moment it looked as though he had smiled. “And to not neglect your session with Sir Vren.”

Of course I had to deal with Sir Vren. I heaved a sigh and looked around my room for my decanter of wine. By the time I had started to reach for the glass neck of it, I had only made a gesture before Celvin was already past me and pouring me a goblet full with another dutiful bow. He truly did a wonderful job.

I waited until I took a healthy swallow of wine before wiping the dregs from the corner of my mouth and looking back to the elder man with a somber expression. “Is that all?” I asked, already dreading the remainder of my day. 

“No, Sir,” Celvin replied. “When your meeting with Ser Vren is completed,” the servant looked down to a roll of parchment that I’m sure held a plethora of notes and lists for his managing duties for the day. “There is an important political matter that the two of you are to discuss with His Majesty the King.”

“Father?” I hummed in thought and took a sip of wine. That was odd. Father rarely requested my presence outside of official lessons and battle meetings. “Very well. If that is all, Calvin, then you are dismissed.” I waved my hand at the old man and watched as he quickly bowed and turned on his heel. I never liked keeping Celvin longer than needed, lest I be chastised for keeping him from his duties. 

With a quick shot back, I swallowed the last of my wine and set the glass back on the table. My hound moved with me, walking over to the closed chamber doors and standing there patiently, waiting for me to let him out and have his run of the grounds. When I rose back to my feet, I let the creature run loose and set about dressing for the day. 

I was due a fresh wash, but I would have to wait to see to that. Perhaps I could call Ari back later in the evening to scrub me down. A smirk played on my lips as I tightened the lacing of my doublet and smoothed my hair back with a dab of water from my washbasin. I lightly dipped my pinky into the container of perfumed oil kept on my nightstand and brushed the warm scent over my throat, grinning with self-satisfied pride at the striking figure that I cut in the mirror. 

There was hardly a social soul in sight as I strode with purpose down the long hallways of the castle. The halls were teeming with life, but it was only the servants. Maids bustled from room to room, cleaning and ensuring that every inch of the estate glistened. Pageboys ran notes to and from the lesser Lords and their family staying in this odd wing of the castle or another. And the faint clang of metal plate resonated in the halls as Knights changed their guard rotation regularly. 

I passed two such people in my family’s employ just outside the Chapel, and caught the tail end of a conversation they had been having in private before they noticed me rounding the corner. Before I rounded it, I paused, wanting to hear what they had to say.

“That new wench in Her Majesty’s batch,” one Knight said with a groan that I had heard many a man use before.

“Aye,” the other said with a laugh. “Once the dirt came off, she was a right sweet one wasn’t she.”

“Captain says she’s King Karsan’s eldest daughter.” Oh, now that was interesting. The Phantom King’s daughter? Here? A wicked grin split across my lips and I had to keep myself from making a noise of approval.

“I don’t care who her father is,” the second Knight said. “A b***h is made for two things. An’ with her t**s, I’m sure we know which one she’s made for.” Both men started to laugh, and I’ll admit I was increasingly curious about this new woman that I had apparently yet to meet. 

At that, I’d heard enough. When I came fully into view, both men straightened up and kept silent, exchanging a nervous glance with each other as they stepped aside to allow me entry into my family’s private chapel. “As you were, men,” I said, letting an amused laugh slip through my otherwise cocky demeanor.

Try as I might, I could not be bothered in the least to stay alert and attentive during my meeting with the Chaplain. The old man was rotund from a lack of hard labor, and reeked of sacramental wine. I recall him requesting alms for the surrounding villages, and had my doubts as to the validity of that claim. But beyond expanding what the crown normally supplied to him on his monthly stipend, I found nothing interesting in his conversation. Instead, my thoughts kept gravitating back towards the knights and their gossip. 

When at last I was released by the Chaplain, my mood darkened yet again. I had to make my way out to the war room, on the exact opposite side of the castle.  It was there that I came face to face with my least favorite person in the whole of the kingdom. Sir Vren Kellsmith. His soldiers took to calling him Ironhide on the battlefield, but to me, he was simply a bastard. 

The aging captain of the guard and Knight of the Realm was cocky in his day-to-day. But more importantly, he was an imbecile. In the war meetings, he was never the first to speak up with a strategy but was always very quick to agree with the highest-ranked individual in the room. Be that myself, my Father, or one of the other Noblemen involved in the armies. 

I had my suspicions on his rise to the rank of Captain, but was so far unable to prove anything negative against his character. A sneer pursed my lips as I paused outside the door composing myself. But before I could knock, the door creaked open into the open plan of the war room. At the table sat the old bastard, his armor off and replaced by a sleeveless doublet over a loose sleeved shirt. Suddenly, my gut sank. He was only dressed down so much when the Queen invited him to join the feasting.

“Your Highness,” Vren said without looking up. He was staring at a group of pawns on the pinned-down map of the realm. They were spread in an array over the known battlefield, with our most recent regiment riding further north in an attempt to outrun the Phantom King’s scouts. Granted, I doubted he knew any of that.

“Sir Vren,” I replied, offering him the same cold indifference that his tone held for me. “Have you any news from the battlefield?” With any luck, the delivery would be brief and then I could be left to my own liberty and curiosity. 

When Vren stood to address me properly, his face was hardened with the cold resilience of a soldier forged in the fires of hell itself. “Reports have come in from our southern fleet,” he started. “Karsan’s men have been seen circling back around the southern peninsula, leading out of his territory.”

“Likely an attempt to disrupt our tradelines,” I muttered, running my hand over my chin. 

“Exactly my thinking, Sir.” I was lucky that he didn’t catch my expression, or I might have caught a hand to my face for the sass. Vren continued on with a gesture to the map. “If his projected path remains on course,” he said. “Then King Karsan should be attempting an attack from our eastern borders.”

Nothing new. All of this information had come in from the couriers two days ago, when Mother returned from the docks. That just went to show how little Sir Vren actually knew about his post. But I stood there and accepted the days-old and irrelevant information regardless of my opinions. I had better things to attend to. 

But even those better things had to wait when the door to the war room opened in a hurry, my Father and two pages making their rushed ways into the room with a look of pure rapture on his old face. 

Oh, this was either amazing news or terrible luck. I just couldn’t decipher which yet.