Authors: D Jordan Redhawk
“Truer words,” Azrael agreed, pout fading. “Still, the fact remains. Ursula is peasant born, a slave; and I am of royal blood.” Shrugging almost helplessly, she said, “It’s just not done.”
Midia made a rude noise, dismissing the argument. “None of that, Milady. You’re a sapphist that’s set court on its ear by leading one of the best armies in the kingdom. Falling in love with a commoner is nothing in comparison to your legendary nefarious ways.”
Azrael laughed outright. “Nefarious, is it? When last I listened to gossip, my ways were simply evil.”
“Then it’s been some while, Milady,” Midia said. “You haven’t been ‘evil’ in more than six years.”
Enjoying the joke, both women let their eyes roam the dance floor. By now, many were footsore and pleasantly tired, including the other body slaves. The musicians were taking a much needed break and the dining peristyle was now filled with people conversing in small groups. Vincenza and Jastus were near to Midia’s table, waiting just out of hearing range for their mistress to acknowledge their presence.
Azrael squeezed the blonde’s hand, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Midia. Your level head has helped me once again. I’m in your debt.”
“You’re more than welcome, Milady.”
Rising, the dark woman waved Midia’s husband forward. Vincenza followed, slipping her hand through the crook of Azrael’s arm. “Thank you, Jastus, for attending to Vincenza’s entertainment.”
“You’re welcome, Milady. I was happy to.”
Azrael bid them to enjoy the evening before moving away toward her table.
”Would you like more wine, Milady?” Vincenza asked once her mistress was settled.
“Please.”
The body slave poured from an ewer, refreshing Azrael’s cup. “Shall I retrieve more food for you, Milady?”
”No. Thank you, Vincenza.” Azrael pulled her close and gently kissed her. “You and Felicia are relieved for the remainder of the evening. Please have Ursula attend me.”
Dark eyes flashed but Vincenza held her temper under the unyielding gaze of her mistress. “Yes, Milady,” she murmured.
As Vincenza left, Brahim appeared at Azrael’s elbow. “Milady, a courier has arrived from the capital.” The steward handed her a scroll case.
Leave it to Shonal to give her no peace. With a sigh, Azrael opened the case and extracted the message, cracking the wax seal. “Is he expecting a response?”
“I believe so, Milady. At any rate, the roads are dangerous for a speeding horse at night.”
Snorting, Azrael finished scanning the scroll and handed it to her steward to read. “My cousin wastes no time. He must be chomping at his bit to wrestle my oath from me.”
Brahim rolled up the scroll. “Shall I notify Captain Suma of your travel plans?”
“Yes.” Ursula was nearing and Azrael’s eyes saw only her. “Tell him we’ll leave in two days, standard retinue, and we’ll be stopping one night at my uncle’s villa.”
“Very good, Milady.”
“And have the courier fed and bedded down in a guest room. I’ll give him his response in the morning.”
“Yes, Milady.”
Smiling, Azrael let Brahim fade into the crowd as she welcomed Ursula with a hug and a kiss.
Chapter Sixteen
Azrael sat on a heavy chair in her public audience hall, a few steps up from the main floor. Brahim and two scribes were busily writing at a table nearby. Sitting on a pillow at her mistress’ feet, Ursula watched the proceedings with a curious eye.
The hall was almost as large as the dining peristyle they’d celebrated in the night before. Here, however, the mood was somber, a sensation of serious industry that seemed to permeate the very stone. Four guards were posted at the entrance and six more lined the walls. Ursula thought it a bit much, Azrael being so closely guarded in her own home, especially since anyone wishing to kill her would be foolish. Her mistress was more than capable of gutting an attacker with no more thought than who should be assigned to clean up the mess. Ursula banished her morbid thoughts with a shudder.
Standing before Azrael was the King’s courier. He was tall, though not as tall as the woman seated before him. His scabbard was worn, indicating experience despite his lack of armor. The sword itself wasn’t present, it having been taken along with his belt knife before being brought into Azrael’s presence.
One of the scribes finished his task, handing the parchment to Brahim who then transferred it to Azrael. Careful to not smear the drying ink, the dark woman scanned the document, finding it acceptable. Using a small table beside her, Azrael signed it and sprinkled sand on the wet ink.
Brahim brought a lit candle, dribbling melted wax on the document and watching Azrael affix her seal next to her signature. He then dusted the parchment off and rolled it into a tube, putting it into a scroll carrier.
“Go to the kitchens and get food for your journey,” Azrael said. “Sif’s blessings on you.”
The courier bowed deeply, accepting the scroll case from Brahim. “Thank you, Your Grace. By your leave, I’ll be on my way.”
Azrael raised an eyebrow at the formal address. It had been far too long since she’d heard it, preferring the simple Milady or Lord of her servants and army. She nodded, dismissing him.
Before she could think of escape, Suma strode in, nodding courteously at the King’s man in passing. “My Lord,” he said in greeting as he saluted.
Azrael leaned back in her chair with a rueful grin. “Your timing is atrocious, Suma. The least you could have done was await me out in the great hall.”
“It’s been so long since my Lord has sat in her audience chamber, I did not wish to deprive her of further opportunity.” The blond man bowed deeply.
Grin fading, Azrael glanced sharply over at Brahim who suddenly found his quills and parchments most intriguing. His shoulders shook, however, giving away his mirth. Azrael sighed, knowing anything she said or did on the issue would only serve to entertain them further.
“How are preparations?”
Suma rose from his bow, face bland. “Quite well, Lord. I’ve two squads of cavalry preparing now. What time do you wish to depart tomorrow?”
“Mid morning should be fine. I’ll send a courier this afternoon to my uncle so he will be expecting us.”
“Very good, Lord. And how many personal servants will be attending you? I wish to have their horses prepared tonight as well.”
Azrael thought a moment. Ursula was most definitely going. While it would be handy to have her steward along, she didn’t think Brahim would be pleased at leaving so close too harvest, however. There was no telling how long Shonal would insist she lounge at court before letting her go and either she or Brahim had to be here.
“Two, Suma. Ursula and Vincenza will be coming along. Be sure to have a wagon handy for our belongings. I doubt I’ll be able to get away without at least a dozen court functions to attend.”
“Aye, Lord.” Suma bowed. “Will there be anything else?”
“No, Suma. Dismissed.”
The captain saluted and left the audience hall.
Azrael turned to the scribes and began dictating a message to her uncle. At her feet, Ursula consoled herself over Vincenza’s addition with thoughts of wiping the smug woman’s face on the marble floor.
Finally free from official duties, Azrael arrived at her quarters with Ursula in tow. There was another conversation to be had and the dark woman was grim.
Midia was still spending time reacquainting herself with her family, so Felicia and Vincenza knelt in the entryway without her. Azrael watched them both for some time, not speaking. Finally she said, “Felicia, take Ursula visiting to the slave’s quarters.”
“Yes, Milady.” The strawberry blonde rose, smiling at Ursula as she offered her hand.
Ursula swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. Things had gone so well yesterday and now this. Resigned, she nevertheless attempted a weak smile in return and followed Felicia out of the room.
Leaving Vincenza where she was, Azrael stepped into her private hall and sat down. She regarded the slave’s back. If it had been any of her other personal slaves, Azrael would have taken her into her quarters. But Vincenza was another case. If Midia was correct, discussing this unpleasantness as a matter of business would ease Vincenza’s transition.
She sent a silent prayer to the gods to ease her slave’s heart. “Attend me.”
Rising, Vincenza’s face showed none of the satisfaction she held at Ursula’s dismissal. She poured a mug of water from an ewer on a nearby table. “Would you like something to eat, Milady? I can send to the kitchens for food.”
“No, Vincenza, I’m not hungry.” Azrael accepted the mug. “Pour some for yourself. We’ve something to discuss.”
A brief wrinkle marred Vincenza’s brow before she complied.
When the slave returned to her side, Azrael pulled the woman onto her lap. She inhaled deeply. “You’ve been with me for three years, Vincenza. In all that time, you’ve only personally served me for one.”
Realizing a response was needed, Vincenza smiled. “Yes, Milady. It was a wonderful year. I only wish it had been longer before you were called away.”
“As do I.” Azrael brushed fingers through shiny black hair. “I’ll be blunt, Vincenza. I don’t wish to see you waste your potential here.”
The slave blinked. “Milady?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.
“You’re young and vital. Your family name exceeds all expectation in courtesans and you’ve done a tremendous job here in my household,” Azrael explained. “I don’t wish to see you languish as a mere dressing maid here.”
“I... I don’t understand, Milady,” Vincenza finally stammered, her usual aplomb missing. “If I’ve displeased you in some manner...”
“You’ve not displeased me, Vincenza,” Azrael soothed, firmly rubbing between the woman’s shoulder blades. “Never that.” She sighed. “My need for your services, however, has diminished.”
Vincenza’s expression flickered from confusion to understanding. Dark eyes flashed as she understood what was being said. “Please, Milady, I apologize for any ill treatment of Ursula. I was only surprised when she arrived, having not expected another slave to share your attentions.”
Azrael nodded. “I’m aware of that, Vincenza, and I know that your professionalism would eventually override any negative feelings you have for Ursula. But that’s not what’s at issue here.” She saw the question in her slave’s eyes. “Again, I’ll be blunt as it’s the way of any soldier. I’ve fallen in love, Vincenza.”
Pulling away slightly, Vincenza stared at her mistress, eyes wide. After a moment, her eyes flickered away and her brow furrowed as she considered the implications in her life at this unfortunate circumstance.
“You see why I have concerns for you?” Azrael asked, still caressing the lithe back. “You’ve spent far too many years learning your trade. I cannot ask you to retire yourself to the level of a maid. Your family would no doubt be furious at the insult.” The dark woman quieted, leaving Vincenza to her thoughts.
Several moments passed before Vincenza refocused on Azrael. Her self-confidence returned, she was the epitome of a professional courtesan. “What will you do, Milady?”
Azrael gave an internal sigh of relief at Vincenza’s easy acceptance, deciding that Midia deserved a huge reward. “I have one or two ideas for your placement,” she said, slipping into the same matter-of-fact tone. “I realize that you’ve almost nowhere to go but down in the scheme of things, however... Perhaps you remember my cousin, Nils?”
“Yes, Milady, your uncle’s son. I remember him.”
“He’s a virile young man now, years from settling down,” Azrael continued. “I believe he’s nearly nineteen and no doubt very much in need of a personal slave who can give subtle instruction on how to please a woman.”
Vincenza considered a moment. “He’s also very handsome if I recall correctly,” she added, grudgingly coming to terms with the idea.
Smiling, Azrael agreed with her. “And closer to the throne until King Shonal marries and has an heir.” She watched as Vincenza worked her way through the suggestion. “I leave tomorrow to see Shonal and plan to stop at my uncle’s along the way. I’ve made arrangements for you to come along.” Vincenza looked startled and Azrael continued, “While I realize you’re a slave, I’d much rather have your agreement in this. It will make the transition much better for all of us.”
The body slave nodded slowly. “What of my sister’s wedding next summer?”
“I’ll make certain Nils honors my wishes. I’ve given you permission; he’ll be more than happy to allow it, as well.”
Despite an effort to remain the professional courtesan, Vincenza’s lip quivered and her eyes grew moist. “I’ll miss you, Milady,” she whispered.
Azrael pulled the woman to lean against her chest, holding her close. “I’ll miss you, as well, Vincenza. You’ve been a wonderful addition to my household and I’ll mourn the loss of your smile.” She gently caressed the weeping woman, feeling a combination of relief and sorrow.
“You’ve really no reason for this jealousy,” Midia insisted.
Startled, Ursula left off the glum studying of her hands. She blushed as she realized both Jastus and Petracal had left the room. Searching her memory, she knew they’d said farewell to her deaf ears. “I’m sorry, Midia. I can’t seem to help myself.”
“You’d best learn quickly then,” Felicia said, smiling to offset ill feelings. ”It’s no surprise to anyone, least of all Lady Azrael.”
“She knows?” Ursula blurted, amber colored eyes round.
Midia clucked at her dismay. “Neither you or Vincenza are secretive in your distaste, Ursula. Only someone as dense as stone couldn’t see it.”
The brunette frowned, brushing at nonexistent dirt in her lap. Despite Midia’s many assurances over the months, Ursula was still uncertain. Her rival for their mistress’ affections had been here far too long. These women were Vincenza’s friends.
Felicia, seated next to the brunette, touched the tense shoulder. She gently rubbed as she spoke. “I, of all people, can understand your circumstance, Ursula. When Vincenza first arrived she was insufferable.”
“That’s one word to use,” Midia agreed with a chuckle.
Meaning Vincenza wasn’t that way now? Ursula slightly shook her head.