Vaid Empire: Conquest
Chapter 61
19th of Fonic, 13 AVE.
Kingdom of Harin, Great City of Visti.
The great azure city stood wearily silent as their new king addressed them in the central square. Packed shoulder to shoulder, they appeared to be a sea flooding the surrounding buildings.
“You may cease your whispering rumors, for I shall confirm them to be true! Spirexia has fallen!” King Siril announced, the second of House Harlin to hold the name. “King Rolir has knelt before his conqueror, placing his crown into the hands of The Empire!”
A cacophony of shouts erupted throughout the city square as Princess Witla turned her head to peer at her brother. Standing beside him upon the high steps of Visti Castle’s entrance, she watched his blue cloak fluttering in the wind. He had been decorated in the most lavish and ornate golden armor a man could purchase, yet it did little to conceal the reality of his slender frame. On his other side stood Minister Ovax, a man that continued to unsettle her each time she glanced over.
“We stand alone, yet not unprepared! Your fathers, your bondmates, your sons, many have taken up arms to defend our great kingdom!” Siril loudly explained, gesturing to the armored soldiers standing in formation before the stairs. As only a fraction of the men he had ordered to be trained, there was no reason to make mention of the fact that their conscription hadn’t entirely been voluntary, for all already knew. “From the moment I gained my father’s throne, I’ve worked to forge the greatest force the north has ever witnessed!”
Her twin’s words stirred a mixture of worry and annoyance within Witla. Spirexia should have held for FAR longer, granting them greater time to prepare. Though they had intended to join the defense of their less than friendly neighbor, Rolir had proven to be a fool. Her brother had managed to utilize experts to gather a worthy army, it was true, though war within their own borders was now unavoidable.
A cold breeze carried over the listening masses as Siril continued his speech, his words echoing off the surrounding buildings. As was tradition, the majority of the white stone structures had been painted in the deep blue shade mixed from the ariz flower. Rumored to be the source of human civilization, the great city stretched forth like an azure sea, larger than any in The Human Basin.
Witla studied the endless crowd, met with expressions of enthusiasm. They responded to his words eagerly, though she couldn’t help but notice the many worried faces interspersed throughout. Fear, concern, even anger could be found buried wherever she glanced.
Siril unsheathed his golden sword, raising it high above his crowned head. “We shall show these invaders the might of Harin, of House Harlin, of the civilized people of the north! Let them tremble at the sight of our armies, at the mention of our gods, and at the strength of the last great human kingdom!”
Lips tightening to a thin line, Witla watched cheers erupt before them. She could imagine their father in her brother’s place. He’d have known how best to proceed, while her brother hadn’t so much as bloodied his hands during a royal hunt. She had held the old Siril’s hand as he died, the news of Spirexia’s invasion proving too much for his old heart, and now they were left with little more than a boy in golden armor, playing with his new army.
21st of Fonic, 13 AVE
Domani, Capital of The Vaid Empire.
Every instinct begged him to turn around and flee this folly. His feet felt as though they carried weights, each step requiring effort as he approached his dread.
“Grand Imperial Architect Lalian,” one of the guards beside the heavy stone door greeted him. A male, it appeared that Vixin‘s protective orders had already begin to ease. “Her majesty didn’t warn us of your arrival.”
“Quite a lofty title. A simple Lord Lalian will do for now,” he replied with a smile he didn’t feel. “I’ve come of my own accord. Will that be an issue…gentlemen?”
The second guard laughed. “Course not. Our guest is hardly busy these days.”
Lalian nearly grimaced at the cruelty in his tone, remembering his own blade. Was he really so different? “In that case, if you’d please…”
Heaving open the door, the guards stood aside as Lalian peered into the darkness. Last time, candles had been lit in preparation for his arrival. This time, a guard pulled a torch from the damp walls and offered it.
Reluctantly he stepped inside, the flickering light caressing the cell bars as he passed. Where he had concealed the dagger during his last visit felt empty, for there was no reason to hide the object he carried now. Warm against his palm, the liquid in the shallow wooden bowl sloshed quietly.
Every step removed an opportunity to change his mind, feeling his heart quickening as he crept forwards. The screeching of hinges echoed as the heavy door was pulled shut, removing his last opportunity to flee.
Near the end of the corridor, exactly where he had left her, he reluctantly found his target. Her green Lanthian eyes flashed open at his approach, falling to a glare as she looked away.
Wordlessly he unlocked the cell, placing the torch into a holding slot welded onto a cell bar beside the door. Its position illuminated her form, struggling to rise from the floor. She slumped back against the wall, her bound legs preventing her from sitting comfortably.
“I’ve…well, I’ve come to apologize,” he announced, fighting to keep the trembling from his voice.
Granting no response, her angry gaze remained focused upon the floor. Her silence almost made him prefer the harsh words she had flung at him.
“You’re still a Lanthian.” The word tasted like poison in his mouth, though he sighed. “You remain complicit in your mistresses’ crimes, yet I…I acted with emotion rather than logic.”
“Then you come to beg for my forgiveness?” she finally spoke, never meeting his gaze. “If you want it, finish what you started.”
Gritting his teeth, he felt the bowl in his hands tremble. “I shall never require forgiveness from the likes of you. I needed to say the words…nothing more.”
“If that’s all, leave. Scamper back to your human masters.” Her damaged wing twitched with pain, causing her nude body to shift in her tight bindings.
A moment was required to calm his nervous fury. “We’re not quite finished. I’ve…come to forge a bargain. You see, I was sent to discover your purpose in crossing our border. I’ve yet to fail my master, and I don’t intend to now over…you.”
“Ah, then the pet seeks to serve?” Her chuckle sounded bitter, lacking the vicious tone of their previous encounter. “What a good boy, though I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
Remembering the dagger hurling through the air, he attempted to calm his anger. “Truthfully…I don’t believe I will be. They shall not execute you until my work is done, and we’ve both learned that you’re unable to take your own life.”
Finally meeting his gaze, her glare held every hatred a living being could conjure. “Torture, then?”
Momentarily stunned by her look, he slowly moved to crouch, placing himself closer to eye level. “Perhaps…I’d have once considered such a solution. Perhaps even recently, until we last spoke. Before I nearly…” His words hung in the air until he shook his head. “No. Instead, we’ll simply talk.”
“Why would I ever utter a useful word to you?”
Lalian looked around the damp cell, the torch light temporarily holding back the darkness. “Your companions knew they couldn’t risk enduring capture. Such was their training. Such was yours as well, though here you are. If…if I may provide ways for you to tolerate your imprisonment, I predict it’s likely you’ll talk. It’s a far gentler solution than one of your kind deserves…though the outcome holds a logical likelihood of success.”
The hatred in her eyes dampened at his explanation, focusing on the bowl in his hand.
“Ah, but first, I made mention of a bargain. Tell me, what are they feeding you? Priem stems, no doubt. They’ll provide enough nutrients to maintain your life, though…little else.” He held out the wooden bowl, allowing her to see its contents. “This, however…is something you’re more accustomed to.”
“Is that…Rinthian soup?” she asked, momentarily forgetting her resentment as its smell reached her green nose.
“I still recall our traditions.” He tapped the side of his head. “Call it a curse. In any case, this bowl shall be yours, if you’ll only grant me a single word. Your…name.”
Hardly able to pull her gaze from the source of the intoxicating odor, she allowed confusion to claim her expression. “To what purpose?”
Safe from her anger, albeit momentarily, Lalian was surprised to find himself more nervous than before. An exposed and bound female peered at him, hanging upon his explanation. He’d need to open his mouth now, to utter…something. “W…well, cooperation can hardly be viable when we’ve yet to be introduced.”
Falling into a scowl, she appeared to consider his words, her stomach begging for sustenance. Her resistance slowly faded, and she gritted her teeth in annoyance. “You want my name? Fine. It’ll do you no good, wingless worm. Anthara. May you choke on it before your death.”
“Anthara…” he repeated, tasting the name. It held the undeniable ring of a Lanthian name, allowing his own anger to slowly flare within his chest.
She shifted in her bindings. “Now, is your word worth more than I believe?”
Hesitating, he nodded before standing up. “I’ll…have to assist you.”
Glaring, she relented as she opened her mouth. Arms bound in several places behind her back, she remained kneeling as he gently pressed the small bowl to her green lips. He tilted it lightly, allowing the soup to slowly pour down her throat.
The sight stirred an odd sensation within him. He ensured she had time to savor the taste, allowing her to enjoy her reward while his hatred simmered. After her final swallow, he stepped back quickly, despising the thought of serving her.
She lowered her gaze as she returned to slump against the wall, the green of her cheeks deepening with a hint of embarrassed anger. “If that’s all…go.”
“Happily…though I’ll return,” Lalian vowed with a scowl of his own. He turned away, retrieving his torch. She lowered herself back to the floor, darkness reclaiming her as he left her behind.
With his heart hammering in his chest, he knocked upon the stone door. His plan had been a success, yet only a single word replayed in his mind as the hinges squeaked. “Anthara…”
25th of Fonic, 13 AVE
Kingdom of Spirexia, Spiri.
“Please, come in!” the Arkos man greeted her as she entered his quiet shop. A thin and wiry man, he folded his dark gray hands inside the sleeves of his orange robe. “I was overjoyed when your servant made today’s appointment. May I get you something to drink?”
With a white cloak concealing much of her form, the hooded woman shook her head. She glanced about the small shop, hidden eyes tracing over the shelves. They held paints of all colors, loosely organized to fit alongside the strange plants that formed their ingredients. Unsold paintings remained stacked atop a nearby countertop, while the most detailed works decorated the walls. “I take it business hasn’t been kind?”
The Arkos shrugged off embarrassment. “The…occupation hardly encourages spending. Still, you could find no other artist more eager to accept the project your servant proposed than I.”
“Occupation? What did you say your name was?”
Suddenly nervous as he peered at her white cloak, he granted her an exaggerated bow. “The Great Kareom, my lady. I’m at your service.”
“Very well, Kareom. The Empire’s ‘occupation’ here is permanent, yet if you handle my request well, I can promise a flood of customers when stability returns,” the young woman stated, slowly pacing through the small room. A cushion had been placed in the center, sitting across from a table where a massive canvas had already been prepared. “A day will come when everyone shall wish to meet the man that immortalized a princess.”
“Princess?” He straightened up, his orange eyes peering closer. “Then you’re…”
She pulled back her hood to reveal her face. “Imperial Princess Cendra of House Vaid, firstborn daughter of The God Emperor.” She smirked, basking in her titles.
Kareom immediately dropped to a bow, only to tilt his head curiously. “My lady…are you certain of your request? Your servant’s explanation was quite-“
“Of course, I would not waste my time without knowing exactly what I seek. Now rise and tell me if you’re capable of completing this task, or if I shall need to search for another.”
The horned man eagerly beckoned her closer with a smile. “No, no, please, I’d never refuse a patron as…how do you say…divine as one such as yourself. Come, allow me to show you what I’ve prepared.”
Approaching the table, she studied the massive canvas, noting that it’d stand nearly as tall as her when vertical. Her hand traced the odd texture of the white material.
Kareom pointed proudly. “The hide of a widrae, native to The Shai Domain. If stored properly, it shall preserve the paint I intend to use for more than a millennium. Your servant requested longevity, and so I grant it.” He grinned. “Acquiring a widrae canvas of this size was…well, it required some asking around. As you can see, I shall fulfill all of your requests.”
Pleased, Cendra turned to approach the cushion. “Shall I be placed here, then?”
Kareom scurried to her side, adjusting pillows that had already been carefully placed. “Of course, my lady. Requests such as this are…rare here, though I sought to make you as comfortable as my little shop can provide. Will this be…satisfactory?”
“Indeed, it’ll do. I’d like to begin, if you don’t mind,” Cendra said, already seeking the clasp of her cloak.
“Please, of course, princess. Shall I…look away?” His dark gray cheeks blushed.
“Don’t be a fool.” The clasp unlatched, allowing the cloak to slide from her bare skin. She straightened up as her naked body was revealed to the strange horned man.
For a moment he forgot himself, eyes bound to her exposed form. His body jerked as he forced himself from his stupor, gesturing to the cushion. “I…please, make yourself comfortable. When you’ve settled in, I shall begin.”
Elegantly mounting the cushion, she placed herself upon her back, allowing her legs to part. The intended focus of the painting rested between her soft thighs, a warm treasure that all desired an opportunity to look upon.
The Arkos studied his subject, unable to keep the blush from his features as he concentrated. He adjusted the canvas a final time. “Are you certain of this, princess? I could capture your entire form, if you’d like.”
“Another time, perhaps. For now, do as I’ve requested.” Her tone came firmly yet lacked any harshness. The man had been difficult to find, after all. Her slaves had required several days to select a candidate that matched her requirements. Oh, Spiri hadn’t lacked for highly skilled artists, yet this one’s fluency in her native tongue was passable.
“Of course, princess,” Kareom replied before beginning his work, rolling back the sleeves of his robe.
She remained still as she waited, vulnerable before his studying eyes. Once, she may have felt embarrassment, yet as she sensed the man’s steadily developing arousal, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. It was only natural for her royal body to be desired, and as he continued his work, she knew that the very pride of House Vaid would soon be permanently encapsulated. The proof of her bloodline’s superior beauty, the very source of her legacy in the form of her son, she wished to capture every detail of her womanhood. Such would be a fitting gift for Clin, and perhaps even an acceptable apology.
“Tell me, are Arkos truly so common here?” Cendra ventured after a long period, briefly breaking his intense concentration. “I’ve encountered several of your kind during my duties.”
“We are close to The Kingdom of Narok, my lady.” His accent flavored the name as it passed his lips. “Many of us come seeking trade, and some stay. Of course, that was before the occu-” He stopped his words, choosing instead to clear his throat before focusing on his work.
“That would explain the nature of your new Queen Regent, I suppose,” Cendra pondered, choosing to meet his studying gaze with one of her own. It came as no surprise that the man originated from Narok, rather than the so-called true desert of Wonakaros. He held the poise and slender frame of a creature of wealth, rather than the brutality of a desert Arkos. It intrigued her to imagine fighting against such warriors, knowing her own father had nearly fallen to Arkos assassins. That was a thought that brought an involuntary twitch of her lips.
Her mind fell back to the memories of her training as several hours slowly crept by, remembering Dominax’s teachings. She calmed her thoughts, retaining her patience as she explored her own mind. Her thoughts were only broken when Kareom slowly stood from his tiny stool.
“I believe…we’ve arrived as a satisfactory start. Please, princess, judge for yourself.” The Arkos politely smiled.
Gracefully rising to her feet, she strolled over to the table, ignoring the hints of the man’s manhood pressing against his robe. She sensed his throbbing desperation, her senses feeling sharper and more precise after the previous long hours of delving into her own being. She appraised the canvas. “A worthy start.”
“It’ll require several additional sessions, my lady. Possibly even a full moon before it may be completed.” He unrolled his sleeves, folding his hands. “Yet seeing as you are currently my sole patron, my entire focus shall be in your hands.”
Satisfied, Cendra retrieved her cloak, concealing herself. “You did well, Kareom. I shall return once per day until we’re finished, as I’m quite eager for its completion. This may be your masterpiece, mind you.”
Orange eyes widening, he nodded his head, his aroused blush remaining. “Oh, I agree, princess.”
30th of Fixuin, 13 AVE
Kingdom of Spirexia, Spiri.
Clin held his sword in both hands, his left near the tip, the right loosely grasping the hilt. He leaned against the railing of the barracks roof, peering at the white blade. The sunlight gleamed off its surface, newly polished, yet he frowned.
The men below continued their sparing exercises in the courtyard, their grunts mixing with the sounds of flowing water of a nearby aqueduct. Clin occasionally pulled himself from his thoughts to shout correcting commands, yet his primary focus remained the blade.
“My love,” Cendra’s voice came from behind, the tall heels of her white boots clicking against the stone. “Any progress?”
Turning his head as she came up beside him, he was surprised to see Cliax cradled in her arms. The blond prince peered at him with calm eyes, forcing a smile from his father’s weary features. “Not in the way I’d like.”
The princess glanced over the railing to assess the men. “They appear adequate. Have I missed something?”
Smile fading, he sheathed his sword. “Adequate for the legion, perhaps. Adequate for battle, yet how can men such as these be trusted to uphold the duties required of them?”
Cendra shrugged. “How long have you searched for recruits to form your Order of Knights? Perhaps your standards remain too high.”
“My standards are exactly as they should be, considering their purpose,” Clin replied with disappointment. “The management of the legion may have delayed my progress, though I’m closer than ever.”
Caressing her son’s hair with pride, Cendra focused upon the fighting men. Their sweat glistening in the sun, several noticed her observing presence. She noted the shift in their efforts, viciously attacking their dueling opponents as they attempted to impress her. She merely smirked. “They fight well, Clin. They’ll serve their purpose as guards.”
“Guards? Despite your father’s wishes, this new Order isn’t intended to simply guard the throne. The defense of your royal family shall be a portion of their responsibilities, of course, yet only a portion. Much like how the healers have been slowly integrated into The Order of Sages.”
Cendra’s brow raised. “The God Emperor has tasked you with forming an Order capable of protecting members of House Vaid. I know your aims, my love, yet that’ll be your primary concern.”
Knowing he risked reigniting their previous argument, a fight they hadn’t quite concluded, but instead simply allowed to fade, he touched Cliax’s cheek. “I shall never allow harm to come to our son, nor you, nor your siblings, nor even Irith. I’ll ensure you have guards trained to my highest standards, but this?” He gestured to the men below, referring to his plans. “This is a spark of something I can’t ignore. Call it an opportunity to serve our people, my love. I envision an Order of knights sworn to serve the citizens of The Empire, to roam the land and assist wherever they are needed. That’s been the purpose of all this bloodshed, to forge a realm that may grant them peace, and provide security and safety to every individual.”
“These honorable propositions are hardly new to my ears, Clin,” she chuckled. “I’d be curious to see your ambitions brought into reality, yet our position remains unsteady. At the moment, I see no need to discard capable men.”
Clin sighed, gripping the railing. “These men would no sooner execute a thief than steal from the citizens they’ll be bound to serve. I see killers in this group.”
“Some amount of bloodshed shall be required, Clin.”
“Yet bloodshed for whose benefit? I don’t see men ready to sacrifice themselves to stop a raid. I don’t see men willing to build fences around farms. I see men eager to fight without a care who they’re fighting against.” Clin rubbed his tired eyes. “We sought to lessen chaos, not spread it.”
Cendra pondered his words, watching as a combatant met her gaze. He moved against his dueling partner with fury, bringing the blunted edge of his training spear down with such force that she was able to hear the crack of his opponent’s arm, albeit with her advanced hearing. A pair of legionaries immediately sprinted into the courtyard to drag the screaming man to the healers. “Grant them into my care, then. Discard these…savages from your hopes, and search anew for individuals that better fit your ideals.”
Surprised, Clin turned to face her. “Are you certain? Of what use would they be to you?”
Thinking of the Sage that had died at her fingertips, she briefly wondered if she should tell him about Vixin’s vile rumors. She decided against it, looking down at their perfect son. Clin didn’t need to concern himself with such nonsense. “Perhaps I’ll have tasks for them in the future. Perhaps not. Perhaps they’ll simply serve as additional guards until I discard them myself. It matters little. They’re in your way, and I shall assist you in making room for proper candidates to join your Order.”
He understood his mate well enough to see the devious intentions in her silver eyes, yet he hardly needed to risk another argument. Instead, he simply nodded. “If that’s your command, princess.”
“Oh, don’t be so formal!” She smirked, moving to lean upon the railing. While holding Cliax with her left arm, she used her right to grip his hand, pulling him closer. “I’m only attempting to help.”
Doubting her words, he remained silent as she guided him closer. She slowly moved between his body and the railing, reaching back to move his hand to her waist. He felt her alluring feminine form beneath the skintight fabric of her outfit, pulling his mind from his thoughts. “Cendra?”
Leaning over, she pressed her rump firmly against his groin, teasing him as she studied the warriors, new assets to utilize however she saw fit. “I have a surprise for you, my love.”
Gritting his teeth as he felt her against him, disappointment came when she moved away. “Such as?”
She granted no answer, instead beckoning him to follow. They left the barracks behind, feeling a dampness in the air after a recent rainfall. Strolling through the streets, it was a short walk before they reached Spiri’s royal stronghold. She led him along, stopping only when they had arrived at the luxurious apartments that made up their temporary quarters.
Clin remained silent as she granted Cliax into the care of a slave, watching her whisper a warning into the young girl’s nervous ear. Curiously, he followed her inside, stopping as his eyes fell upon the massive painting hanging upon the wall.
“Well?” Cendra sealed the door before clasping her hands behind her back, moving like a huntress as she approached the painting.
“Is that…”
“Me? Of course. I would not permit you to stare at another’s loins all day.” Cendra smirked.
Clin studied the massive painting in a stupor. The vagina of his mate lay before him in exquisite detail, every bit as perfect as her real lower lips. “How did you…”
“I found an artist that was acceptable. I hope this gift is adequate to…well, I’d simply like to put the past behind us and move forward,” she said, knowing they had never finished their previous argument. If such a gift could serve as an apology without requiring words, all the better. “Thoughts, Clin?”
Releasing a stunned chuckle of his own, he turned towards her. “I’m surprised, that’s all. This must have required quite some time.”
“Indeed, which is why you’re going to sit back…” Taking his hand, she led him over to the nearest cushion, intentionally placed to grant him a view of the painting. “…and reward me for my efforts.”
Her playful grin quickened his pulse, watching as she began to rub his groin through his one-suit. Lacking his armor, nothing protected him from her assault, a fact he was more than pleased with.
Hunger claimed her gaze as she freed his cock, feeling its above average girth in her hand. She bit her lip, lowering herself between his legs until her lips brushed against the tip. “You’ll forgive my inexperience, won’t you?”
“It’d be impolite if I complained.” He grinned, only to catch his breath as she eased his cock into her mouth.
She moaned around his shaft at the taste, her tongue taking its time to become familiar with him. It caressed the bottom of his erection as she moved him in and out with deliberate slowness.
Her inexperience was indeed noticeable, yet the unnaturally stimulating texture of her tongue more than compensated. The bodies of Vaids never ceased to stroke his amazement, gritting his teeth at the feeling.
Moving with a slow seduction, the reality of her position clung to her mind. A Vaid should never kneel, her father had said, yet she was doing far worse. The thought nearly made her abandon her curiosity to stand, yet she forced herself to push aside such worries and focus upon her mate. Clin’s cock was hers, and she’d use it as she saw fit.
He brushed his fingers through her soft black hair, the sight of her pretty face between his thighs coaxing his lust. Her silver eyes moved to peer up at him in pure desire.
Her hand moved to caress his testicles, knowing they had granted her a worthy son. The time to sire another child to add to her legacy would come, yet for today, she simply wanted to enjoy his cock.
Leaning back against the rectangular cushion’s backrest, he couldn’t help but moan as she took him deeper, testing her own limits. She began to unfasten her belt, allowing it to fall to the floor.
Her hand found its way under her skirt, teasing herself as she closed her eyes. Already her clit throbbed with sensitivity, as if her body begged to have him inside. Slowly, she began the process of removing her outfit, allowing his shaft to leave her mouth briefly as she finished her work.
Saliva coated his manhood as she gripped its base, encircling the tip with her tongue. She knew it would soon touch her deepest reaches, her body quivering to feel him.
Unable to delay any longer, she moved to straddle his waist, pressing his cock against her flat midriff. He felt her tight form against him, his cock twitching as it prepared to please her.
Wordlessly she lifted her hips, positioning herself before sliding him inside. She moaned loudly, knowing her own saliva was lubricating his cock. Satisfaction crept into her as she watched his eyes briefly flutter at the pleasure of her divine body.
“Cendra…” he moaned, feeling her slowly rise and fall upon his lap. He sunk deeply into her tight royal pussy, feeling her efforts to milk him as she moved up and down.
For stability she placed her hands onto his shoulders, feeling his musculature as she rode him. “Gaze upon…ahh…what’s yours…”
The command was unnecessary, for merely peering at the painting coaxed his primal urges forth. Never had he encountered a more beautiful sight, nor a vagina as flawless. His eyes traced over the depiction of her sweet flower, pink folds that appeared crafted by The Creator himself.
“You’re inside that, my love,” she teased pridefully. “How does it feel?”
His response came as a groan, sliding deep before her hips rose once more. Grabbing her hips, he felt her ultra soft skin, every inch of her body alluring.
“The descendants of The God Emperor shall be flawless…Clin…” She paused as she slid down, moaning before continuing. A gamble awaited her, a risk she needed to test. “You granted me a worthy heir…but perhaps you’ll breed a daughter into me next. Think upon it…for you’d have a daughter with a body as flawless as the divine blood within her…”
His cock twitched with surprise at her words, briefly pulling his attention away from the painting.
She sensed his stirring emotions, testing the limits of his decency. She knew her father reveled in delight at knowing just how desirable his daughters were, yet what of ordinary men? Did Clin share her familial curiosities? And if so, could she reveal the identity of her lover?
Clin’s hands eased upon her hips, yet he made no move to stop her. Such was expected, she knew, from such an honorable man. He’d be proud to sire beautiful offspring, as all men desired, yet he clearly saw no need to delve further. So be it, for such truths could be eased into later.
A tingle from outside the room tickled her mind, allowing her to sense a familiar presence in the adjacent room. The God Emperor had returned to his new quarters, having granted The Bed of Clouds to Quinla. Cendra held no doubt that she’d be unable to conceal her pleasure from his senses.
As Clin’s cock slid in and out, she felt her father’s mind caress her own, granting her a sensation of loving approval. She attempted to return the sensation, the knowledge that he could sense her sexual encounter fueling a deep lust within her.
The overpowering presence of The God Emperor hung over her as she increased her speed, her body reacting naturally. Clin held onto her tighter as her instincts claimed her, riding him with a desperation she hadn’t known was inside her.
Slamming up and down hard, she heard the loud slapping of their intimacy, feeling the cushion rocking beneath them. Her body craved more, to feel him explore every inch of her loins before she’d be satisfied.
His gaze returned to the wall, desire coursing through him at the sight of the painting. He had craved her. He had bred her. He loved her, feeling the wetness of her divine embrace.
She moved without concern for elegance nor pride, only seeking pleasure from her mate. An imperial princess moved with a savage need, treating her lover as if he were merely a cock.
“Cendra…ahh…what’s overcome…ahh…” He abandoned the question, instead allowing his head to fall back in bliss as he endured her powerful thrusts. An intense ecstasy flowed through his loins with each movement, driving him wild.
The God Emperor mentally teased her, sending wordless thoughts bursting against her awareness. Her mind naturally understood the intentions behind his pulses of emotion, urging her to claim the pleasure she deserved.
Feeling Clin’s hands upon her asscheeks, she felt his fingers digging into her delicate skin. She bit her lip before groaning, never wanting to cease her riding movements.
An intense touch of Dominax’s mind caressed her own, souls communicating emotion from entirely different rooms. Cendra sensed a feeling of pure love prodding her mind.
She seized, her body shuddering as she climaxed, sinking down fully upon her mate’s cock. The God Emperor’s mind caressed her own throughout her orgasm, as if intentionally dragging it out. She gasped for breath as he pulled away, feeling his presence depart from his chambers to carry on with his duties.
The brief pause of her thrusts did little to dampen Clin’s enjoyment, feeling her slowly resume. She moved with a deep, passionate rocking of her hips. The intensity of their intimacy had nearly driven him over the edge, and it required little time before she sensed his peaking pleasure.
Carefully reaching down as she pulled him free, she stroked him as he began to climax. Leaning back, she moaned as his seed spurted across her flat belly, just outside her womb. It deserved to be inside, and someday soon it would be again, but for now she bit her lip as she watched him cum.
He breathed as he regained himself, slumping against the back of the cushion. Cock tingling in the aftermath, he observed her as she ran her fingers through the ropes of cum, massaging it across her skin with visible satisfaction.
“You appear…pleased with your gift,” she chuckled, painting her belly in his seed. It came in an ordinary quantity, incomparable to The God Emperor’s, yet it was more than enough.
“Whatever that was…” Clin attempted to catch his breath. “Do hold back any longer…”
She smirked before turning to peer behind her, assessing the artwork. Her son was her pride, her future descendants her legacy, and the beauty of their source would now be immortalized for generations.
38th of Fixuin, 13 AVE
Kingdom of Spirexia, Beside The Lake of Humans.
The sounds of the lake trickled in Rolir’s ear as he leaned back in his chair. Upon the shore, he reached over to the small table beside him, picking up his cup.
The taste was sweet upon his tongue, and he savored every drop. Such was his reward, allowing his eyes to close as he enjoyed the soft breeze. After kneeling before Dominax and proclaiming his surrender across Spirexia, his part was finished. Gone was the throne, a collar binding him to duty. Gone was Spiri’s royal stronghold, a tomb constricting his still living bones. No weight of a crown remained atop his head, a thought that forced a smile across his face.
A cough escaped him as his mind wandered, replacing his cup. He knew his cabin was just behind him, a modest gift from The God Emperor, as if brought forth directly from dreams forged while listening to endless Lords and citizens.
No longer did he need to concern himself with them, for such was now Quinla’s duty. He thought of his cousin sitting on his former throne as he coughed again, acting as regent until her son reached maturity. She’d do well, he knew, for such had always been her calling.
He opened his eyes as a harder cough escaped him, peering out across the water. Their deception of the population had been an utter success, yet a wide perimeter of guards had been stationed to protect their former king. Wide indeed, for Rolir had spread them as far as possible as to avoid spotting them. No hint of humanity would be permitted to disturb his peace.
Touching his chest, he attempted to clear whatever had begun to ail him, falling into a coughing fit. It passed, allowing him to breathe as he fell back into relaxation.
The respite lasted only a moment, for he was once more assaulted by his lungs. He stood from his chair, coughing before gasping for breath.
Standing still, he attempted to calm himself, only to burst into a ferocious series of hacking coughs.
Reaching up to touch his neck, it showed no sign of stopping, only seeming to worsen. He stepped closer towards the lake, feeling the water around his feet as he struggled to breathe.
Growing lightheaded, he peered around as he wondered if he should call for a guard to summon assistance. His coughing offered no opportunity to speak, however, and he doubted they’d hear him in any case.
Growing dizzy, he stumbled, beginning to feel as though he were floating. The sensation was unnatural, unsettling, and he slowly turned around to peer at his cabin. His eyes briefly rolled back, feeling little pain, yet fighting to remain conscious as his mind slowed. Such a sensation couldn’t merely stem from oxygen deprivation, for it felt as though he had begun to shut down from the inside out.
When he focused his gaze, his eyes widened in surprise as a woman stepped out through the doorway of his cabin. Dressed in a white robe that revealed much, she leaned against the outer wall, watching through a mask of pure white steel. A Truthseeker.
Rolir’s slowing memory fell back to his first encounter with The God Emperor, recalling his words. “We must proceed carefully, and when all has settled…” He heard the deep voice as if a fog had filled his mind, unable to feel much of his body.
“…there can be no loose ends.”
“N…no…” was all Rolir managed to utter. He felt water erupt around his body as he fell backwards.
Only then did darkness claim him.
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