Wailora and her maids found their way among the lush scents of flowers and fresh air. The day was remarkably warm, the sun shining brightly. They wore the gowns of the Queen's choosing, all of which dragged the ground in their pearl appearance. The slave girl had become the pet of dragons, pampered and highly favored by all under her guardian's rule. The King and Queen had been so kind to keep her despite her bloodline, and thus she had openly separated from the beliefs and ways of the Tyliquin race. She could hear the flow of a horse's gait traveling over the grounds; its movements sounding off like thunder.
"Do you hear that?" she asked coming to a halt, her ladies instantly turned to observe the land around them. "No, M'lady. I hear nothing," spoke the mousy-toned Lamti. "Westa, do you not hear the pounding of hooves?" "No, Lady Wailora. I do not." The sound grew louder, and finally, a mounted beast came into view. The horse came to rear before them bucking his rider off the saddle and onto the ground, before galloping back the way he came. The three young women watched on in shock, the woman heavy with child coming to collide with the ground in a bone-breaking thud. Her dark gown was tattered and torn, the skirt spotted heavily with blood.
Westa moved forward with caution unsure what the reaction of the trespasser would be. "No!" Wailora shrieked. "Do you not witness the tattoo upon her shoulder; she is a devil attempting to sneak inside the Queen's holy gates." "We should alert her Majesty." "This woman needs help. You should not turn her away, she bears the same marks as you," spoke Westa her voice bitter. Abigelle pressed up upon her palms, her arms weak her legs lifeless. "Please, I beg you to bring me to the attention of your guardian the Queen Hexonia Talon." The witch's eyes were full of tears and pain, exhaustion upon her face.
"I will do no such thing. How do I know you are not here under the orders of your hidden master? You like all of your kind have come to tarnish the kindness and honesty of the dragons. Come, ladies, allow her to die here if she must." "You speak such harsh words for a girl so young. Surely someone must have brought grave harm to you for you to be so heartless. I have the key your keepers seek growing within my womb. I beg of you, have mercy upon me as others have given you. I claim sanctuary under the name of the great Incendartou. I would not have come, but his grace Calira Draconvieh sent me here, the Queen's only brother. Please if my child dies, all will be lost."
Reddened fluid began to pour from between her thighs, the baby was coming. "M'lady, she speaks of the Dark King. Her Majesty must be informed of this. She will not be pleased if such secrets are kept from her knowledge." "Very well, Lamti. Take Wetsa and see word to her Grace, that a witch under her brother's command wishes sanctuary." The maids took their leave walking briskly, eyes downcast. Wailora kneeled down beside the woman.
"Who does your child belong to?" She questioned. "I am afraid I may only speak his name to the Queen. Such matters should not involve a child of your age." "You speak as if you are my elder. You look not a day older than me, I may be a child, but I possess gifts as well." She moved to take her hand, her grip sharp. "They saved my life, and I will not see their compassion returned by scandal." Her womb began to convulse, the waves of labor radiating into her back. She screamed. "I give you my honest words of promise. I seek not to harm any who inhabit these lands. I seek only protection for my unborn child nothing more."
"You do not ask protection for yourself, why is this?" The Vessel rolled onto her side the pain worsening.
"Because I was born to live long enough to bear a son. I have accepted my fate, but this boy I will bring forth must be placed in the hands of goodwill." "Who are you running from? Who chased you from the lands of Dread, for there is no monster greater than he resting within those dry and unforgiving hills." "How do you know of the lands I travel from? I had yet to speak their whereabouts to you?" The lines of questioning ended as King Talon made his way towards them. Wailora took a moment to admire his bare chest and muscular form, the weight of shame falling into her heart. Hexonia followed close behind. Her hair pinned tightly to her scalp, the hem of her silver dress lifted upward as she ran.
"Wailora step aside," spoke the king his voice commanding. Hexonia pushed past and fell to the witches side, her palm coming to rest on her forehead. "You shall be safe here. Be calm." Abigelle clung to her tightly, tears heavy and falling down her cheeks. "Oh divine Queen of mercy and peace, I plead sanctuary under the name of Incendartou." "You shall be granted your plea," answered Laxrindren. "Come, let us see you inside." He lifted her gently cradling her in his arms. For a second, jealousy filled the heart of Wailora. "That is how he carried me once." She thought, and within that moment her distrust for the woman grew into hatred. She followed them sadly back to the castle where the priestess stood awaiting them.
"Take her to the observation room, I will need plenty of sunlight," she said. Arriving, the King laid Abigelle inside and quickly left the room. "Wailora, see yourself to your chambers." "Yes, M'lady," she replied her voice cracking. The door shut violently as she turned away the tears threatening her finally coming to fall. She ran down the halls trying her best to hide the embarrassment of her feelings. She fell onto her bed weeping, the fear of being replaced in their hearts ripping into her own. A knock fell upon her door, Talon had followed her.
"Who goes there?" she murmured through gasps. "It is your King, see the door opened." She froze. He could not view her in this state. No, it would be far too humiliating. "I shall not," she wept. "Is that so? You do realize it is frowned upon and found disrespectful to deny your host his wishes."
"I am indisposed, your Majesty. Please come back later." The door swung open. "That is why I have come to tend you." The door shut, and he took a seat on her bed. He had found time to clothe himself but even still the gleam of his chest radiated from the seam left open upon him. "Why do you weep, child? Should you not feel joy that one of your own kind shall live here with you?" "She is not one of my kind, your Grace. She is a temptress, who will cost me the affection of you and Lady Hexonia." "Is that what you fear, my dear? That because we extend hands of care toward those in need that we will forget those we have already saved?" She did not care if she had no food to eat or such luxurious things to wear. All she needed was his touch.
"I saw the way you held her with such love as you did for me. Before I betrayed you, how soft you touched her." Talon chuckled realizing what had set the girl off. "You mean this way?" He took her in his arms and hugged her close placing a kiss on her cheek. She flushed red. "I...she." She couldn't speak. She was frozen in ecstasy. It felt so pleasing to be given the affection of the King again. "You have an unhealthy passion for me, dear Wailora, I would see it end to calm your feelings. We have spoken of this before have we not?" "Apologies, your Majesty. I did not mean to offend you."
He reached over, locking the door. His strong hands guiding her to straddle his lap. "You are not alone, I have an unholy passion that burns for you too. One that I had no hand in forming. The sight of you, the smell and mere presence of you next to me only throws kindling into the flames. You were made to grow up much too fast, and because of it, your emotions are tangled. Your mind may have you believe that you love me, but really you only admire me because I saved your life. You are simply thankful for what we have done, and in time you will see that for yourself." "Then why is it that I wish to please you in the ways I was forced to please other men." " I suppose that is just a part of growing into womanhood. We both must learn to control such urges." His voice was weak in its honesty. He knew what had to be done, deep down he wanted nothing more. But, he could not get her out of his mind. His hand moved to wrap around her neck, his lips crashing into hers as he growled. Wailora, taken by surprise, kissed him back. Her arms moved to wrap around his neck as her hands slithered through his soft strands. She pulled away for a moment, for once, her questions came to outweigh her lust for him.
"Why do you live to help others?" "Why should I not?" "Don't you ever become afraid of someone betraying you?" "I am cautious, yes, but frightened, no. In my many years, I have learned to read others. And like with you, I believe this woman to have good intentions. She is just led by the wrong guide." "But I am a child yet to be molded. She is a woman who will soon be a mother. Her intentions whatever they may come to be will be set in stone. She comes from the lands of Dread, and even openly stated it was Calira who sent her here. It is known even in the lands of the deserters that the Lord of those lands despises his sister. Why should we place our trust with anyone who would stand against the fairness of your wife? Such things seem foolish to me, M'lord. I would never forgive myself if I did not voice my concerns. I know of the ways of my old blood, the actions of the Tyliquin race are anything but pure."
"You should not judge a book's pages so rapidly because its cover represents some entries within it. She will be given a chance as you have been given and if what you say proves true, she will be dealt with. As for your future here, it has been secured. The Queen has already begun the process of legitimizing you. It will not only serve you for the duration of your life but your children's, allowing us to take a large step forward in restoring peace to Evernia once more." Her face came to hide in the cool confines of his neck.
"To bear my own children would be a disgrace and dishonor not only to your name but the world itself. But if I must, to please you, I would humbly ask that I bear the offspring of a dragon to redeem my worth as a living being upon your soils." He could feel her breath upon him, her love though if it were simply lust, confusion, or paternal, he could not come to decipher. "Why do you think so low of yourself and your people?" Her eyes did not rise to greet his. "Tyliquin witches are a race of violent, hateful women, grown by the hunger to strike revenge upon the past long gone. I did not witness the events that came to pass all those years ago. I did not draw breath , and neither did you, yet they expect me and those who remain to require you to pay for crimes you did not commit. It is not right. From the beginning, we have been nothing but hateful and envious even of our makers. That is why I view my lineage as that of a curse."
"You speak wise words beyond your years but remember you are a direct descendent of the gods no matter your crimes. You hold as much power as I do if not more, as for bearing the children of a dragon, I would not recommend it." The King's tone had been taken over by worry. "I understand it remains illegal, but I view it as a great honor," she spoke, her voice quivering. "There are tales of horror concerning that matter. Even still, you are young and should not worry your mind of such things. The trials of adulthood are not all they seem. Your childhood was stolen from you. Allow me to give it back."
While her mind had come to calm, her heart still burned like fire for him. He was the King who had blessed her with life, a dragon sitting a man beneath her. No matter his words of persuasion, the power of infatuation would not let her go. Wailora wanted Laxrindren in every way, and somehow one day she would have him. "Yes, your Majesty," she purred, her gaze downcast from his own. She felt his soft hands coming to raise her chin upward,as she looked into his eyes she came to smile. The King stood her up hugging her close and savoring the moment they both stood in. He moved to the door unlocking it. As it opened, he turned to face her.. "Get some rest. I will see you at first meal in the morrow."
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