Chapter 1 - Deliciously Sinful
Megan dropped the letters onto her desk with a very unladylike curse. Her pretty freckled face was scrunched up in irritation.
Nathaniel, who'd been idly leafing through a tome on the Nevarran style of sword-fighting, raised an amused eyebrow. "What is it, Meg? Another noble begging us to rescue his daughter?"
"Worse." Picking up the offending pieces of paper again, she handed them to him. "We are invited to court. King Alistair and Queen Anora request the presence of the Arlessa of Amaranthine at the proclamation of their heir, his Highness, Prince Dougal. There's one for you, too. Ser Nathaniel Howe, of Vigil's Keep." She laughed mirthlessly. "Really, if they want you there because of your noble blood they should have given you your titles back."
He shrugged, quickly scanning the missive, ignoring her remark. "It seems they found a suitable boy to adopt. Poor kid."
Megan nodded. "Alistair mentioned it to me last time we met. The sixth son of the Teyrn of Ostwick. He has King Calenhad's blood, through his great-grandmother. His mother died giving birth to him and the teyrn has since remarried. Apparently they won't miss him much."
Nathaniel's lips thinned. "A proper noble family then." He sighed. "Well, it will be good to have an official heir to the throne. I guess Anora's chances of conceiving are slim at best."
"She's not getting any younger." Megan was uncharacteristically serious. "And if we're quite honest, the plan to have her marry Alistair always had one big flaw."
They exchanged knowing glances. Right after the Blight, everyone had gone crazy about the Wardens, only too eager to glorify them and raise them to positions of power. Alistair, in particular, with his good looks and charm had seemed like a young god to the common people. Little did they know that their celebrated heroes were all too human; little did they know about the taint poisoning their blood. Now, several years later, it had become painfully obvious to everyone that there would be no heir born to the royal couple.
Nathaniel dropped into a chair with a heavy sigh, pulling Megan into his lap. "Well, maybe it's all for the best. At least this will free the king and queen from any obligation to keep up marital relations. Should be a relief for both of them."
Megan slapped his hand playfully. "Shush. Alistair told me they are getting on well nowadays. Mutual respect and all that."
"Not the same thing." Nathaniel ran his hand up her spine until he reached her unruly mop of hair, twisting several strands around his fingers to pull back her head, baring her throat to his kisses. "Respect is all well and good, but you and I both know we wouldn't be satisfied with it."
"True." She laughed, enjoying his attentions to the full. His lips were hot and greedy, and her body responded eagerly to his caresses. "Wait! We need to discuss this, and you keep distracting me."
He paused with another sigh, meeting her gaze for a moment. "What is there to discuss? You go and represent the Wardens; I stay here and make sure everything's going well."
"You're not serious, are you?" It was almost a whine. "I'm going to die of boredom if I go alone. You know what those noble gatherings are like, all chit-chat and false smiles. Please come with me." She looked up at him, her eyes big and round and pleading. "Please."
Nathaniel shrugged, not bothering to hide his amused chuckle. "If you insist. But who will you leave in charge here? Carver will be gone for at least another month, maybe more."
"I know. I miss him." Megan smiled fondly at the thought of their lover. Carver had left a week earlier to join his brother Revon on a mission to the Vimmark Mountains; some family affair or other. It had seemed important to him.
"Me too. I hope he has fun while he's away." Nathaniel's face was just as affectionate. "Anyway, what do you propose?"
"Anders can hold the fort for us, with a little help from Thorin and Sigrun. They'll be fine. It's just a few days" Megan was determined. "I'm not going without you."
"How do I look?" Megan inspected her reflection with a critical frown. "Okay?"
Nathaniel had been struggling with the fastenings of his blue Warden armour. When he looked up at her, he inhaled sharply. "Gorgeous."
Megan smiled, feeling a tad smug. She had been mad when Anora had insisted she wear a dress, as befit an Arlessa. In her own mind, she was Warden Commander first and foremost, and the ceremonial armour would have been far more appropriate. Yet she had to admit that dressing up like this had its charms. The gown she had chosen was lovely. The silken fabric was blue-green like the ocean on a sunny day; the tight little bodice just daring enough to annoy Anora. She was a bit worried she would stumble over the hem of the long, full skirt but, as she turned and walked toward Nathaniel, she was thrilled to realize how it changed the way she moved, making her hips swing seductively.
The effect wasn't lost on her lover. He moaned softly when his hands closed around her waist and he could feel her hot skin through the thin silk. Sliding them upwards he just barely grazed her breasts with his fingertips, then followed the line of her cleavage in a subtle caress.
"Sinfully gorgeous." His voice sounded rough and throaty.
Megan shivered with pleasure. Suddenly the evening ahead of them didn't look quite so boring any more. "Come on. We mustn't be late."
Nathaniel stepped back with a sigh. "A pity. I'd love to peel you out of this dress right now."
She grinned. "Well, half the fun is in the anticipation, isn't it?"
He threw her a dark look. I can't wait until he finds out about my little surprise. Megan shivered at the thought of how he would react to what she was wearing underneath. When she had tried on the dress, the Orlesian seamstress had tutted in disapproval at the sight of her linen smalls and told her assistant to fetch something more appropriate. Something more appropriate had turned out to be the merest nothing made of dark blue silk and lace. Megan had never seen the like before, and she was pretty sure her prim Fereldan mother would have fainted at the thought of her daughter wearing it. As she made her way toward the banquet hall, she felt wonderfully wicked, savouring the way the silk caressed her skin intimately. Oh yes. Definitely not boring.
A few minutes inside the hall had her suppressing the urge to yawn, though. Most of the Fereldan nobility was already present. Megan's low-cut dress immediately set tongues wagging among the respectable wives of the dignitaries from the Bannorn. In vain, she looked around for the few people who could be relied on to be a little more entertaining, like Bann Teagan, or Bann Alfstanna. They were both present, but already caught up in conversation. Fortunately, this was a relatively informal affair, for all the amount of blue blood assembled here. The official part, the proclaiming of the new heir, would only take a few minutes and afterwards everyone would settle down for a sumptuous dinner and the exchange of gossip.
The King and Queen were greeted with polite but restrained applause. There had to be a number of noblemen in the room who were less than happy with their choice of an heir. Maybe some of them had had hopes for the throne themselves. Megan silently congratulated Anora and Alistair on their decision; far better to bring in a relative outsider. The boy himself, Dougal, was standing between the two of them. He looked bright and pleasant, taller than his eight years, and he actually resembled Alistair a little, with his thick blond hair and his slightly goofy grin.
The Queen's voice was clear and firm as she introduced him to the assembled company. Everyone bowed and smiled. There wasn't even the smallest murmur of dissent, but Megan was certain that would change throughout the course of the evening as the wine flowed freely. Anora's spies would have a field day.
As soon as everyone was seated, the servants began to bring in the first course, much to the guests' vocal delight. Nathaniel had his place opposite her, between a matronly lady-in-waiting from Gwaren and a rather pompous court official whose name she'd already forgotten. She smiled radiantly at her lover, rolling her shoulders slightly as if to loosen stiff muscles, and enjoying the way his breath hitched at the movement of her breasts.
To her left, Arl Gallagher Wulff was fully engrossed in eating his soup, ignoring her completely. Since he was almost deaf and any conversation with him tended to involve lots of shouting and misunderstandings, that was rather a relief. While she mechanically replied to the bland observations of Bann Reginalda on her right, she kept throwing little glances at Nathaniel.
Maker, but he looked good in the blue armour! And he was obviously beginning to catch on to the game she was playing. As she watched him, he ran his tongue slowly over his lips, allowing his hooded eyes to rove all over her naked shoulders and down to her pert little breasts. Her nipples grew tight and hard against the thin fabric. When his lips curved up in a smile, she realized he could actually see what he was doing to her. And I bet he just loves to know it.
The soup plates were carried off, and the next course carried in: small pancakes, filled with assorted vegetables and rolled into fat cigars. Megan wasn't all that hungry, but she wasn't about to waste a perfectly good opportunity. Reaching for one of the tubes, she began to nibble daintily on its tip, while throwing Nathaniel a sultry look from under her golden lashes. He bit back a laugh but at the same time his eyes darkened and the line of his shoulders grew decidedly more tense. Got you! She revelled in his reaction as she chewed slowly, licking her lips when she was finished.
Nathaniel got his revenge with the next course, though, when the servants came in with a huge plate of oysters, fresh from the fishing villages north of the city. She struggled to stifle a moan as he slowly sipped an oyster from its shell, closing his eyes in pleasure as the taste hit his palate. When he opened his eyes again and caught her gaze, she had to hold on to the edge of the table to keep her composure.
The roast was served and Bann Reginalda started questioning her about her family history. Megan had to focus on the conversation to avoid saying something blatantly stupid. It was just as well, really. She was more than horny enough as it was. Crossing her legs, she felt the damp silk slide against her core with a delicious gentle friction, the constant low throbbing in her lower belly making her impatient for the meal to be over.
When dessert arrived, a small puff pastry filled with creamy blancmange, sweet and delicious, Reginalda fell silent. Megan ate daintily, enjoying every bite, fully aware of Nathaniel's eyes on her. When she'd finished, she slowly licked her fingertips clean. She didn't even have to look at him. His gasp was audible and she smiled in triumph.
As soon as the King and Queen had risen, he was behind her with a few quick steps, pulling back her chair and helping her rise. His hand rested on the small of her back, a tad longer than was strictly proper, and she pushed back against it, just a little, because his touch felt so good.
The fabric of the dress was thin enough for Nathaniel to feel the outline of her smalls, to realize that there was something else in place of the usual plain linen. His eyes widened a little as his fingers traced the lacy edge of her panties. "Meg..." His voice was thick with arousal. He had to be grateful for the long mail tunic that effectively hid his plight.
Megan was thrilled to feel the power she had over him. For a moment, she was tempted to tease him further, to see how far she could go before he lost control, but then he pulled her hand up to his lips and the soft brush of his mouth across her knuckles sent such a flash of heat through her belly that she almost swayed on her feet.
Without another word, she turned and made for the nearest door, sure he would follow her.
Big, big hugs and thanks to suilven for betaing this!
