Beneath the Armour: An Elven Desire

Chapter 11

Drake pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped into the dimly lit hallway of the manor. The rich, dark wood and ornate carvings of the walls spoke of old wealth and power, but tonight the grandiosity felt oppressive rather than impressive. He adjusted his cloak, shaking off the chill that clung to him from the evening air.

As he approached Chester's office, the muffled sounds of Chester’s voice grew louder. The man's frustration was palpable even through the thick wooden door. "Can you believe the king sent his men to deliver both his new recruitment orders and a parchment? Does he think I am incapable of handling my own affairs?" Chester ranted, his voice dripping with indignation.

Drake smirked at the vehemence in Chester’s voice. It was precisely this kind of brash, self-important attitude that had prompted King Riland to dispatch him. Alliances in times of war were as unpredictable as the shifting tides, and Chester, along with his wife Katrina, had a reputation for being opportunistic. Drake had observed their behavior closely during his stay and his instincts told him they were far from trustworthy.

He knocked firmly on the solid oak door, the sound echoing through the corridor. The din from within ceased abruptly. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a slight, elven woman standing in the threshold. She wore a revealing, silk robe that clung to her skeletal frame. Her skin was pallid, almost translucent, and her dark brown eyes held a sickly gleam that made Drake's stomach churn. He could hardly suppress his distaste; she was nothing like his Fay. His thoughts darkened momentarily before he pushed them away.

Chester's forced smile did little to hide his irritation. “Commander Drake! What an unexpected pleasure. I had assumed you would be spending your evening in the pleasure houses or the local taverns.” His laughter was hollow, an attempt to mask his unease.

Drake’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I’m here on urgent business. We’re departing for the eastern borders at dawn. I’ve also come to discuss the matter of the elf and his punishment with your wife.”

Chester’s pretence of warmth dissipated instantly. His face hardened, and he stared at Drake with a mixture of irritation and resignation. “Katrina has developed a peculiar fondness for the elf. But I won’t be involved in this matter. She’s in the west wing, but I must warn you, her temper is as fiery as ever.”

Drake’s gaze was unwavering. “Death is the penalty for attacking a royal soldier. Fondness aside, the law is the law.” He turned on his heel, leaving Chester’s office without another word.

A male servant, dressed in a simple yet elegant livery, guided Drake through the manor’s labyrinthine corridors. The grandeur of the manor's design seemed almost mocking against the backdrop of the tension in the air. As they approached the west wing, the sounds of groans and muffled cries grew louder and more disturbing. Each step Drake took felt heavier with the anticipation of what lay behind the golden door.

The servant bowed deeply and retreated, leaving Drake alone. He took a deep breath and approached the door, its gilded surface reflecting the dim light of the hallway. As he grasped the handle, he steeled himself for the confrontation ahead. Drake pushed the heavy door open, the creak echoing in the dimly lit chamber. His heart raced as he took in the scene before him—a tableau of temptation and defiance. Katrina reclined on a lavish bed, the rich fabric of her gown pooled around her, its delicate lace contrasting starkly with the raw energy in the air. Leaf, sprawled before her, was completely exposed, glistening with sweat, his breath heavy with the remnants of a passionate encounter.

Katrina's eyes shot open at the sound of the door, locking onto Drake’s with a mix of surprise and challenge. He stood at the threshold, a sentinel of the law, his jaw set and his gaze steely.

With a swift motion, Katrina yanked Leaf's hair, pulling him closer, her laughter ringing out like a siren's call. “Come to join in on the punishment, have we?” she teased, a seductive smirk curling her lips as she pushed Leaf back onto the bed, her power palpable.

Drake’s resolve hardened. “I’m here to see you abide by the law,” he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. He forced himself to look away from the scene that unfolded—one that stirred a bitter mix of disgust and annoyance. He recalled the first time he had encountered her, lost in the depths of the woods, engaging in acts that had shocked him to his core. The memory of that day haunted him, a shadow lurking in the recesses of his mind. Her engaging in s****l acts with a restrained make cenator.

When he returned to WoodPine to discover that Chester had chosen her as his bride, he felt a mix of disbelief and dread. Katrina had always been a force of nature, a tempest cloaked in beauty, and now, as she stood before him, that tempest was unleashed.

“Come on, Drake…” she purred, her voice silky, wrapping around him like smoke as she stroked Leaf's p***s. But he cut her off, his patience fraying. “The law is the law. He attacked a royal soldier. The penalty for that is death,” he bit out, each word a stone dropped into the still waters of their tense standoff.

"How about we forget the law and you show Leaf the punishment for what he's done" she purred, as she roughly rolled Leaf onto his stomach, his bare ass pointing at Drake. Drake heard Leafs shocked gasp and the fear in his eyes at what Katrina had ment.

Drake frown depend and he shook his head firmly. Katrina's playful demeanor evaporated, replaced by a fierce determination. She rose from the bed, hands on her hips, her posture radiating defiance. “I am the Lady of Weatherthorn,” she declared, her voice rising, echoing off the stone walls. “I rule these lands by the king’s decree. My rule will not be sacrificed based on accusations from those of lesser rank. You are merely a pawn in this endless war!”

Drake’s heart sank, knowing well the depths of her manipulation. “You are choosing to defy the law for a pet? You understand the consequences of this?” he replied, gritting his teeth against the rising tide of anger.

"I'm punishing him as he deserves for his betrayal" Katrina screams. "What punishment?" Drake growls. This woman was insane.

Katrina gives another seductive grin. "I've given him maca root. He will serve me and many other deserving patrons throughout the night". Drake couldn't hold in his disgust at her sickened mind. "That is not a punishment" he spat. Katrina continued to smile as her hand rubbed and squeezed Leafs ass. "Clearly you have never c*m more than once," the evil light in her eyes was enough to freeze his blood. She was truly mad. "No. He will die. Either by sword or hanging. As his master you can choose whichever, but he will die for his crime" Drake growled through clenched teeth.

Her response was a visceral scream, raw and unfiltered. At that moment, the doors burst open, and two guards entered, their imposing figures casting a long shadow over the room. They stood alert, ready to heed the call of their lady, the tension thick enough to slice through.

Drake felt an uncomfortable knot twist in his stomach. This was not the Weatherthorn he remembered from years past—a place once known for its peace and tranquility. The situation had become a volatile mix of emotions and political tension, and Drake knew that one wrong move could ignite an even greater conflict.

"Katrina," he urged, his voice calm but firm, "I suggest you put your feelings aside and consider the consequences. The king will not be merciful if you defy his decree."

Katrina's eyes flared with madness, her face flushed with a mix of anger and fear. She stood protectively in front of Leaf. "Leaf is mine!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion.

Drake's patience was wearing thin. He had witnessed enough of Katrina's erratic behavior to understand that reasoning with her was futile. As he turned to leave, the air shifted, and Chester appeared at the doorway, his presence commanding and authoritative. The look of disgust on his face was unmistakable, a rare display of emotion for a man known for his composure.

"Enough," Chester's voice boomed, silencing the room. Katrina's defiant cries faltered, and her expression shifted from rage to a pleading vulnerability as she rushed toward him.

"Chester, love, they’re trying to take away our Leaf," she whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clung to him. Chester held her close, his grip firm yet gentle as he restrained her trembling form.

"Cease the Elf and take him to the dungeon," Chester commanded, his voice cold as iron. Katrina stiffened in his arms, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"No, Chester, please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Leaf hasn't done anything wrong. It's the outsiders—they're the ones disturbing our peace."

Chester's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing with resolve. "Enough. I will not jeopardize my land and title for your obsession. If you continue, you'll join him in the cells."

The guards moved swiftly, seizing Leaf and dragging him from the room. Leaf's eyes, filled with a haunting mix of fear and resentment as they met Katrina's one last time before he was pulled away. Drake watched the scene unfold.

As the commotion subsided, Chester's gaze met Drake's. An unspoken understanding passed between them. Chester would do what needed to be done. Chester nodded slightly, a gesture of reluctant acknowledgment, and Drake returned the nod before making his exit.

Returning to the inn, Drake checked on Fay, who slept soundly in the small, dimly-lit room. He watched her for a moment, her peaceful expression a stark contrast to the tumultuous events of the evening. Alison was asleep on the chair. With a sigh, he retired to his own room, packing and preparing for tomorrow's early departure.