Chapter 61 – Royal Prerogative

It was raining again. At least it was a little warmer now, which meant they were finally rid of the damn sleet that had plagued them all winter.

She hurried through the dusky streets of Bridgewater on her way to Violet Delights, her cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders. The narrow streets were almost deserted – in this weather, most people stayed indoors. Only a few late traders were hastily packing up their stalls.

She way still pondering the same questions she had already pondered for days – the gardener, the black cat, Vyxara’s persistent silence about them…

“You’re brooding again,” Vyxara remarked with amusement. “You’d better concentrate on your path. There’s an Emberwarden patrol just disappeared around the corner that you completely overlooked.”

Valentina nodded imperceptibly and, greeting Gretta, slipped through her store into the secret back entrance of Violet Delights. The familiar scent of violets and dark musk greeted her as she went straight to the dressing room to get ready.

“Lily!” Madame Dolorosa’s voice sounded unusually tense. “One moment, please.”

The elegantly dressed brothel owner beckoned her into her private dressing room. Valentina followed her, wondering what could be so urgent.

“Close the door,” Madame Dolorosa instructed her. Her narrow face looked serious. “We have a… delicate situation.”

“What happened?”

“Violet has got a fever. A high fever. She definitely won’t be able to work tonight.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Valentina said carefully. “I hope she gets better soon. But surely that’s not the reason for this secrecy?”

“No.” Madame Dolorosa sighed softly. “The problem is that she had a very important regular customer today. A client for whom discretion is absolutely essential.” She paused meaningfully. “The Illuminator asked for her.”

Valentina felt her blood freeze in her veins. This was exactly what she had been waiting for these last months. Even if the prospect was not necessarily pleasant.

“At last!” purred Vyxara.

“Illuminator Eastwald is coming here?” For Madame Dolorosa, of course, she had to act ignorant.

“Regularly,” confirmed Madame Dolorosa. “Violet usually takes care of him. She knows his preferences, his special wishes. But today…” She shook her head. “I need someone I can trust absolutely. Someone who understands how delicate this situation is.”

“And you were thinking of me?”

“You are discreet. Intelligent. And you understand the importance of secrets.” Madame Dolorosa leaned forward. “But let me make one thing absolutely clear: you must not talk to anyone – and I do mean anyone – about his visits here. Not even with the other girls. Understood?”

The harshness in her voice surprised Valentina. “Of course.”

“He comes in through the same entrance as you girls. His identity must be protected at all costs. He has… very specific preferences. Very detailed role-play requirements.”

“He probably wants to be punished,” giggled Vyxara. “We know that kind of customer well enough.”

“What kind of requirements?” asked Valentina.

“He’ll explain that to you himself.” Madame Dolorosa poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Valentina. “The important thing is to play along. No matter what he asks. He pays very well for his… extras. So you’ll make a lot more money tonight.”

Valentina sipped the heavy red wine. Her heart beat faster at the thought of the possibilities here. If she gave her best, really exhausted him… maybe, hopefully, she could coax some information out of him.

“Probe carefully,” warned Vyxara. “He may be a hypocrite, but he’s still dangerous.”

“He’ll be here in an hour,” said Madame Dolorosa and stood up. “Get yourself ready. And remember – absolute discretion.”

When Valentina prepared herself a little later, she felt equal parts fear and anticipation. She checked for the third time that her illusion artifact was sitting correctly, smoothed her dress and arranged her hair.

“Take it easy,” Vyxara muttered. “Whatever he wants, at his core, he’s just anotherhorndog. You have experience enough with that.“

A soft knock on the door announced Gretta. “He’s here,” she whispered through the crack in the door. “Madame Dolorosa has sent word for you to come to the Red Room.”

Valentina took a deep breath and checked her reflection one last time. The blonde, elegant Lily looked back at her – a perfect illusion.

Time to give the Illuminator a very special performance.

~

When Valentina entered the Red Room, she saw his gaunt figure against the heavy velvet curtains. He was not wearing his robe, but simple yet well-cut clothes made of expensive black fabric.

When he turned towards her, Valentina took a closer look at him. His ascetic face was deeply wrinkled, but his grey eyes were clear and intelligent. His greying hair was cut short, his body wiry and his posture straight. The burn scars on his face, which gave him such a fearsome appearance in daylight, were barely visible in the dim light of the Essence lamps.

What surprised her most was the change in his demeanor. His usual stern, imperious manner had given way to a nervous energy. He moved like a predator that had been on a chain for too long and had finally been set free.

“Ah,” he said with slight disappointment in his voice. “So you’re the replacement for the other one. How… unfortunate. I had hoped she wouldrecover.” He sighed theatrically. “Now I have to explain everything all over again.”

“I’m a quick learner,” Valentina assured him gently.

“We’ll see about that.” His voice sounded hoarse with suppressed excitement. “Has Madame Dolorosa explained to you that absolute discretion is required?”

“Of course, sir.” Valentina bowed her head humbly. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled a small, ornately decorated casket from the folds of his robe.

“I have something… special.” He opened the box with almost ceremonial care. Inside, nestled on red velvet, lay a single strand of black hair.

“This strand,” Eastwald whispered with awe and forbidden lust, “belongs to Queen Beatrice herself.”

“That’s fantastic,” Vyxara cackled. “I wonder if we’re dealing with one of the savviest perverts in the whole realm?”

Valentina could barely keep her brows from rising. How, by all the flames of the Martyr, had he gotten hold of a lock of the queen’s hair?

“I’ll put them in your artifact myself,” he continued, stepping closer. “No one is allowed to touch it but me.”

His fingers were surprisingly deft as he opened the illusion artifact and carefully placed the strand. The familiar shiver of transformation ran through Valentina’s body as she triggered the activation pattern.

“Perfect,” Eastwald breathed as he gazed at her with a feverish expression. “Youfit a little better than the other one in terms of height.”

He stepped closer. “The most important rules first. You will call me ‘my pious friend’. With exactly that humble undertone.” He made an impatient gesture with his hand. “The other one – Violet – had it down perfectly after some practice.”

“My pious friend,” Valentina repeated in her best imitation of courtly sophistication – if she was honest, she was trying to imitate Duchess Rosalind.

“Yes, just like that.” His eyes lit up. “And when I take you, you must ask forgiveness for your sins.”

“Of course.” Valentina bowed her head slightly and curtseyed.

Eastwald licked his lips. “We will commit the most nefarious sin against nature. You understand?The queen must not become pregnant, lest the king become aware of our affair.”

“I understand,” Valentina said, stretching. “You mean an-“

“Yes.” He interrupted her and stepped even closer to her, his breathing quickening. “Exactly.”

“I must warn you,” Valentina said cautiously. “I’ve never…”

“Perfect!” His voice almost cracked with excitement. “That makes it even more realistic.”

Valentina flinched involuntarily. Eastwald noticed and his face darkened.

“Pull yourself together, girl,” he said harshly. “I’ve done this many times before. It won’t hurt. Not very much, anyway.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Valentina hastened to assure him, forcing herself to smile seductively. “I’m sure you know exactly what you’re doing. I trust myself completely to your… guidance.”

“Very good,” Vyxara purred in her head. “Make him confident. The more relaxed he is, the more he’ll reveal later.”

“Perfect.” An almost feverish gleam came into his eyes. “It’s important that you understand how sacred this moment is. The forbidden union between the queen and a man of the church…” He shuddered. “Symbolismof the deepest significance.”

He explained further details at a rapid pace. “You must be shocked at first when I suggest it. Indignant. ‘But my pious friend,'” he imitated a female voice, “‘that’s against nature!’ That’s exactly how you have to say it.”

“And then?” Valentina asked gently.

“Then I’ll convince you. Explain to you that it’s the only way. That we can never be together otherwise.” His voice became hoarse. “You will reluctantly give in. Give up your virtue. For me.”

“He’s definitely played that out a lot,” commented Vyxara dryly.

“During the act itself…” He took a deep breath. “You have to keep asking for forgiveness. ‘Forgive me, Martyr’. With this… undertone of shame and lust.”

“I understand.” Valentina bowed her head humbly. “And after that?”

“Then you cry. Quietly. But with dignity! As befits a queen.” A strange smile flitted across his face. “I will comfort you. Reassure you that the Martyr understands we had no choice. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, my lord,” Valentina said and curtseyed again.

“Good, now stop curtsying you’re a queen.”

As he undressed, she noticed the scourge marks on his back. Fresh welts intersected with old scars. He stepped very close to her. His fingers stroked her face, probing, as if he wanted to test the illusion.

“Kneel down, my pious friend,” Valentina said in her best imitation of a courtly accent.

Eastwald moaned softly and sank to his knees. His hands trembled as he kissed the hem of her dress.

“My queen,” he whispered. “I am your unworthy servant.”

Valentina played her role perfectly, like a true queen. She bent down to him and gently stroked his scarred cheek. “My pious friend,” she said with the perfect mixture of authority and affection in her voice. “You should not kneel before me.”

“Yes, my queen,” he whispered in a harsh voice. “I must kneel before you. You are so pure, so sublime…”

His hands were shaking as he stood up and walked over to her. The feverish gleam in his eyes had intensified.

“My queen,” he breathed. “There is a way for us. A way for us to be together without the king ever knowing… the most nefarious sin. You can’t get pregnant this way.”

“But my pious friend!” Valentina took a startled step back, just as he had asked. “That’s against nature!”

“It’s the only way,” he urged. His voice sounded hoarse with excitement. “Trust me. I will guide you…”

As he came closer, Valentina lowered her eyes, as befitted a virtuous queen who was about to renounce her virtue.

“I’ll do it,” she whispered, “for you.”

He groaned and pulled her against him. Valentina felt Eastwald’s hands trembling as he gripped her hips, turned her around and pushed her gently onto the bed. She felt like she was in a trance, her movements becoming automatic as she went on all fours.

Her muscles tensed as he pulled her buttocks apart and her butthole puckered as his fingers pushed against it.

“Try to relax,” Vyxara whispered in her head. “It won’t be as bad as you think. He’s not very big, so that’s an advantage.”

Valentina felt a cold shiver as he reached for the oil that was ready next to the bed. She bit her lip as he spread the oil between her buttocks. It was warm and slick. Then he poured a generous amount onto his hand and began to rub it onto his manhood.

“Breathe deeply, my queen,” he murmured as his finger penetrated her. It burned a little, but not as much as she had expected – probably thanks to the oil.

Valentina concentrated on her breathing and tried to relax her body. She could feel Eastwald’s manhood bumping against her ass, hard and eager.

“My pious friend,” she gasped, “I don’t know…”

“Keep breathing,” he ordered gently but firmly. “Trust me.”

She felt the pressure increase as the tip of his length pressed against her butthole.

It felt strange and unnatural, but fortunately not overly painful. Slowly Eastwald penetrated her, inch by inch.

Valentina gritted her teeth and felt his hips push against her bottomand entered her to the hilt. She felt the pressure grow. With his manhood deep inside her, he leaned over her, pressed his face into her hair and moaned the Queen’s name lustfully in her ear.

He began to move in a slow rhythm and Valentina felt her muscles tense and relax to enclose him. He pulled out almost completely and then pushed into her again, a little deeper and harder each time. She could feel her body getting used to the sensation and adjusting to it.

It was strange – she had expected it to be disgusting and painful, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was just… different. She caught herself thinking that it might even be nice if Eastwald wasn’t so… enthusiastic.

“You’re doing well,” Vyxara whispered in her head.

“Forgive me, Martyr,” Valentina pleaded, remembering her role, her voice soft and submissive. “Forgive me my sins… Forgive me my weakness.”

“Concentrate on your role,” said Vyxara. “The more satisfied and exhausted we make him, the more talkative he’ll be afterwards.”

“Yes, my queen,” he gasped. “Say it again.”

“Forgive me, Martyr,” she repeated, “I am committing this terrible crime out of love.”

Eastwald moaned louder and moved faster. Valentina could feel how his arousal increased, how he became harder, pulsated and she knew that he would come soon.

“Forgive me, Martyr,” she whispered again as Eastwald climaxed.

She felt his hot seed shoot deep into her buttand bit her lip to stifle an indignant noise.

“A truly extraordinary hypocrite,” scoffed Vyxara. “At night he lives out his depraved fantasies here – while during the day he has others pilloried, flogged or sent to the stake for far less.”

For a moment, Eastwald remained buried inside her, their bodies united in a perverse intimacy. Then he carefully withdrew from her and Valentina felt his warm seedrunning out of her.

She didn’t quite know what to feel – disgust? Contempt?

“Just decide how you want to feel later and concentrate on eliciting information from him now,” Vyxara admonished impatiently.

As he had described it to her before the act, she now buried her face in her hands and imitated quiet sobs. How do you cry with dignity? She had no idea and just did her best.

“That’s enough. Turn around and let me see the artifact,” Eastwald ordered with a gasp, already reaching for her necklace. “I don’t want to leave the hair in there any longer than necessary.” Valentina turned back into her Lily guise and, with trembling fingers, he removed the royal lock of hair and tucked it back into the casket.

“Wine,” he demanded hoarsely. “And dried fruit, if you have any. I need to recover.”

Valentina smiled inwardly. He should have as much wine and sugar as he wanted.