Chapter One

Cythera Island Nine months after Imriel and Sidonie's Wedding

Melisande Shahrizai stood on her upper patio, looking off at the whirling seascape below. She held a message in her hand, it came on the wings of a bird. She was always amused when this method worked. Sunjata sent the message from La Serenissima...well technically from a relay of ships, then to Cythera. It was relayed on fishing vessels that she helps to maintain in the off seasons. It took her seven years to work it out so she could get short messages faster than the ocean will allow at times. All information...yet this just perplexed her. She knew Phedre was traveling again. The last she heard from Terre d'Ange in the form of written correspondence was from House Courcel, their condolences on the passing of Solon with a personal note from Imriel on the bottom. She heard from her contacts in the city that Phedre left with a small guard and Verreil...some weeks after the note was sent.

Now she had this missive...and the words that have fundamentally changed her world. "After a few days with her friends here in the city, PD and JV have booked a birth on the next ship to Cythera, the Abbos under captain Oscri." His script was even and the message succinct. He did not know why and would not attempt to speculate. He was trained to only relay what he knows. So she was left to wander….and worry. Melisande figured that Phedre would be there in six days...perhaps eight if the wind is not with them. It wasn't long enough. She immediately tried to identify the twisting feeling in her stomach. Solon had been so logical with her, he taught her to identify the feelings by what happened to her body. The love she felt when she held Imriel for the first time helped her to understand that she could feel more than a passion for power...more than amusement and pride at her ability to play the game. Yet, through Solon's teachings she realized what she felt for Phedre was love that she didn't recognize at the time. It deepened inside of her bone deep level when that wonderful anguissette walked into certain death and walked out with her son alive. She then lovingly raised him to become the best man Melisande knew.

The boy Christo carefully approached the table beside her, checking to see if she needed more wine. She nodded to him absently and he poured the wine with careful grace. She noted it absently then made herself smile at him. "You do that with increasing grace, Christo...as skilled as an adept of Cereus House." She complimented him as he would have been Terre d'Ange. She missed her home and he had never even seen the land of his parent's birth.

He beamed and held the wine jug in his hands with renewed vigor, "Like Comtesse Phedre no Delaunay?" His voice was high still, he was almost ten and the youngest of the Maignard clan...looking at him she often thought that Imriel was his age when the two Carthaginian slavers took him from the mountains of Siovale. She smiled realizing he was probably told details about Phedre from his older brother Leander. He had returned to the island just four days prior. He spent a good amount of time in Terre D'Ange and then to Amilicar and Euskerria. He procured two mountain manor homes in the area of the highlands that Terre d'Ange ceded to the new country. She traded aid for the families of the Battle of Amilicar and a good portion of the wine profits she had saved from Cythera. It was enough to fund moving her household there if the need should arise.

"Yes...she used to serve there and at her factor's home as a child. I didn't meet her until she was a bit older than you," she offered softly. His eyes were wide as she never really spoke to him unless it was to instruct him in the games they played and the lessons she taught them when the tutor was unable to come in from the village. Melisande could read his expression and though she didn't really feel anything for him. Imriel had noted how she treated the staff and since he left year past now, she tried to be more aware. She was just now remembering to do that again. Solon's death took her by surprise and she didn't like surprises. The change in the government here and the pressure from the new governor to engage in some sort of sexual arrangement wasn't something she was prepared for either. She sent Christo back to the kitchen and sipped her wine.

"You didn't tell me about the changes to the slave laws, miLady," Leander said with little preamble as he walked around the corner of the garden, reading one of the notices Governor Ahken sent all over the Island nation. Leander was sure of himself now and walked with a sense of ease he didn't have before he left..having travelled and spent time with Imriel. His letters from Terre d'Ange were packed in a small wooden chest in her bedroom. He sent a series of sketches of Phedre to her from the City of Elua. Melisande didn't like to think about how many times she ended the evening looking at them via lamplight in her room. He had delivered her message and the only letters he sent were sketches of Phedre and her reply to the message. She knew their correspondence would be read before it left the capital city. Since it was probably Phedre that would inspect them, they had agreed he'd only send sketches and Phedre's reply to her message Leander gave her as soon as he met her. She had included the Cassieline in her reply. He was the only father Imriel would ever know and as in all things, Phedre picked the one best suited to prepare Imriel for the life of a House Courcel heir...for the life as her son and the love of Sidonie de la Courcel.

Her grandchildren will rule the nation of her birth. House Sharahzai ascended to the throne she herself will never sit. The regret faded away some time ago when she realized her penance for causing true pain to the Chosen of Kushiel would be to never get what she sought and to lose everything she ever loved. She realized it when she foolishly kissed Phedre goodbye in La Serrenisima after she brought Imriel to see her. The electric shock that melted her core..then visions she saw of all the 'might have beens' where in each and every one, they had crossed paths had changed her paradigm of thinking.

She had just given Phedre permission to raise her son...a son that loved her already like a boy loves his mother. It was written all over her face. Melisande knew they would love one another...she knew Phedre would heal him and understand him in a way no one else could. It was the only gift she could give him and it meant she would be alone. Pulling away from her and watching them leave was gut wrenching and life altering for her.

All she thought about was Phedre and Joscelin...as she had for months before she got the letter from the Pharaoh. Phedre had written her to tell her that her son was alive and returning to Terre d'Ange.

After they had left and she was bereft again with the knowledge her son would be lost to her forever she was wracked with the strange feeling of regret.

She couldn't leave well enough alone and sought details of what happened in Darsanja. The Caederdici seamstress that came to create a new wardrobe for her was with them in Darsanja. She had set up her own salon and was making a name for herself for a mix of fashions from around the world, yet also styled in away that fit her city.

She spoke of Phedre with ease and as she measured Melisande, she used her voice and gentle command to pull details out. It...had cost the woman to share. She was not one that was cruel to Imriel but she understood D'Jangeline and could share what she overheard them speaking. She knew at one glance that Melisande was his mother. She knew how Melisande took the veil of Asherat. She wasn't a devout believer but was willing to tell the story as long as Melisande could bare it. She would do it for the honor of creating her wardrobe. She didn't overcharge her and she did a fair job of describing the terrible place.

Twice she had to ask her to stop speaking. Only twice...once when she told about the Tartar warlord that wanted Imriel and how he branded her son. Melisande broke a vase and then left to get sick in a closet off to the side of the room. She returned and Annette Diaggo, the seamstress, told her how Joscelin Verreuil kept Imriel safe after that and cut down that warlord with his sword.

The second time she had to ask her to stop speaking was when Annette brought the clothing for a last fitting and told her in detail about the Mahrkagir's bedroom and flagglery if that is what one would call such a horror. The seamstress had to drink some wine before spoke about the steel rod and what he did to Phedre, nightly. She described his room...she had visited there herself when she first came to the zenana and some of the sick games he liked to play. The night of her rape, he had killed a small Chowtani boy by strangling him as he sodomized him in front of her before he used the rod on her. He had used it on her just once and she thought she would die. She explained how it had to have been worse for Phedre because he insisted she stay with him each night unless she was unconscious which had happened about a half a dozen times in the time she was there. She described how Phedre returned after the first night and passed out before her couch. They all had hated her because she liked what he did but they didn't understand then that she had come to free them all. She stopped speaking then and said it had to be a testimony to the power of the god Kushiel that Phedre survived at all.

Melisande had asked her to stop then...the memory vivid in her mind. These incidents Solon had asked her to revisit when she would try and understand empathy. She could identify the rage she felt for the ones that hurt them but the underlying emotions scared her. Phedre told her she didn't want to know and she should have listened.

"MiLady?" Leander asked with concern in his usually cool voice.

"Phedre may be here in a few days according to a note brought down from the ewes by Fecile. You were the last of us to actually see her, do you have any idea why she would book a passage here?" Melisande asked him, looking at him with a piercing stare.

He blinked. " Here? Alone?"

Melisande glared at him, "No of course not, she goes nowhere without her Consort, Messire Verreil." Leander smiled at the mention of him and nodded his head.

He cleared his throat, "You know the parts of Imriel I once laughed at...the sense of honor and urgency….well they all come from the Cassieline. I don't know why they are headed this way but I can say that she was troubled to hear...how did she call Ptolemy Solon...oh "your Patron"...had died. She can school her features she didn't then and immediately asked Imriel if he was going to write you. He said he would and then the Queen informed her that she would send official condolences as well. Perhaps she is ….checking on you?" He ventured.

Melisande had to stop herself from smiling at the word "Patron" and from rolling her eyes at his words," One month in Ysandre's court and you think only of Love as a reason for action. More as like she is here to negotiate some agreement for the Queen and the new Governor to oust us all," she quipped. It wouldn't be the first time she had to adjust her idea of home but it would be out of character for Phedre to attack her here. She knew that Imriel had told her in detail about the life she created for herself here. What Phedre thought about it was something she spent too long contemplating if she was honest with herself.

"I find nothing surprises me when it comes to her. I...wasn't prepared for what it was like to be in her presence," he admitted. "Imriel laughed at me. We had conversations about what it is like to be her son...and he sent me to the Night Court with his cousin Mavros." Leander got that look on his face that made her smile a little bit. She thought maybe he loved Mavros a little bit and it really made her remember growing up in Kusheth.

She nodded smiling some at his words, "Yes, I always see red when I first look at her. Did you?" She asked quietly. She had never told anyone that before...she didn't discuss how Kushiel presents himself to her.

"Yes...well...for a moment, I blinked and it went away," he said quietly. "Is it something that only Scions of Kushiel can see?"

Melisande nodded slowly, "Our blood...allows His presence to fill us. Some more than others. His touch on her makes her appeal strong." She said it in a silken voice. "See that the house is ready to engage in Kushiel's Wing. I didn't tell you about the slave laws because I knew you'd find out soon enough. We need to be proactive and ready. He is insistent that I come to him and enter an agreement like I had with Solon. I've begged off due to grieving but he is growing tired of that excuse," her voice was even as she tore her mind from Phedre to her current predicament.

Khebbel-im-Akkad must want more from the small vassal nation. They allowed Solon to govern but they must all pay the Master Nation. The new Governer Ahken was a warrior and merchant. He made his fortune enslaving the people he conquered. He dabbled in other investments but he was the man that set the slave market in countries around the world. He used the idea of a health scare to insist on the barbaric registration and branding policies of slaves brought into or bought on Cythera. He seized the property of any slave owner that did not comply with the new rules. Two plantation owners had been ousted and their property given to his Vizier and cousin in the past two weeks. She didn't want to leave but she also didn't want to be the sexual plaything of a brute. He wanted to have what his cousin Solon, the ugly Wise Ape of Cythera had..but his way only. Ahken was an Arkadian slaver with a reputation of being brutal to win trade wars. It showed that Nineveh felt that Cythera should produce more of an income as a Vassal nation and slavery was the industry of choice. She had entertained him one evening after he arrived. He was blunt and after dinner he told her he wanted to show her the proper place for a woman and wouldn't take no for an answer. Her retainer and half brother stepped up beside her and informed him that the Princess Melisande de la Courcel was in mourning for her lost Consort Ptolemy Solon and offered to get his horse. The next day the laws were changed and she lost the ability to free any slave she bought abroad..ever while they were on Cythera. She would be forced to send them through a state sponsored slave house to be inspected, marked and collared within one week of purchase. If the slave was bought on Cythera, you could wait for four weeks to send them for inspection but couldn't only free after they've served as a slave for seven years. It was a parody of the reformation Solon instigated that allowed slaves to purchase their freedom. Slave owners has to pay them a wage that would allow them to buy their freedom within seven years. All such transactions were now outlawed.

"He acted quickly and obviously had planned it already. Yes it makes what I do with purchasing and freeing slaves from Carthage impossible...and it gives him access to any people sent to his supposed inspection house. The fees are making him a fortune, not to mention what people are paying to insure their property is returned," her stomach flipped and she clenched her jaw. He returned from Amilicar with two young slave boys he rescued from the slave market. He was told to do so if he saw any children and had the cash. He had arrived via Illyrian ship at the private dock in the cove beyond the villa.

No one knew about the two boys and she had Carelia forging freedom papers for them both currently in her study. "I'm glad you chose to dock where you did. I know you prefer the short climb up the cliff to the ride in from the town, it bought me some time to get papers made...it cost me very little to get one copy filed in the scribe tower. The locals are not happy with the change in laws," she explained. He told her that the Captain argued it because it is a precarious landing, especially at night but he managed it well.

"I sent Captain Icilia to La Serenissima to empty the North storehouse," she informed him. "He never docked here and will be gone for weeks. The goods will…"

"To be taken to Amilcar and up to...what will you call it?" he asked her as he folded up the notice, placing it on the low table. He had purchased both estates and cut the deals himself to secure this move. The trip to Terre d'Ange and to conduct her business had kept him away almost a year. He had followed her instructions to the letter and now she had her own estate, close...very close to home.

"What was the lodge called before?"

"Highland Rock Manor," he said with a voice that expressed how he felt about the dull descriptive name.

"Well it does set atop Highland Rock ridge, in what is now Euskerria. You said you can see down into the valley of Terre d'Ange, yes?" she had a map of the area but his descriptions always helped her to see the area. He complained about the cold and it was only Fall when he left. She knew she had a window if she wished to get her household moved before the harsh winter snow kept them snowbound. He told her of the view though, the room count and architecture of the house. It was similar to her family home, he admitted. She knew he had visited Kusheth with Imriel once before he left. They had stayed a night with the Duc d Morbhan and one night at her family home.

"Same builder and designer, a Siovales scholar, grandfather to Anifiel actually," she said quietly. He seemed impressed. She had asked him to tell her about Montreve twice. He had stayed there a few nights with Imriel and Sidonie after they returned from their marriage trip. He had spent that time at the Castle under the careful eye of Sidonie's personal guard.

"I will call it the same, the lower manor house, it is half way down the ridge in a valley. It was called, Oakwood. I like that and I am giving it to you," she said matter of factly. "I wish your family to establish it as your manor home...it is only a few hours ride from Highland Rock and will be a vassal estate to my House. It is not an island paradise but it will come with lands, crofters and enough space to spread out, raise good horse flesh and crops. I think maybe this will be a good time for you to go tell your father." He just looked at her with eyes full of some shimmering emotion she wasn't used to seeing on her cynical protege.

"I will do that and tell him to start preparations for a quick withdrawal if needed. Thank you, milady Melisande, I will bring my father the plans to both houses so we can make our new home our focus. I will also inform the household we have a guests that might possibly arrive soon. I hope we will not just retire to the mountains to never be heard from again," he ventured having recovered his emotion over her gift of an estate.

"No, Leander, I make too much money from the sale of information to stop using what you've been trained to do," she said with a smile. "We just have to make sure our base is secure." So much of what she learned was routed through this island and she could still leave operatives here, but only a few. She had the natives as a last resort, they still worshipped her as the living embodiment of Aphrodite. She had enough weapons stored to arm a small contingent. It wouldn't work for a long while as Khebbel-im-Akkad is too violet a nation to allow any one insurrection to stand. But it could be used to exact a strike to remove someone from power and to leave the port without worry of being followed.

People would die but she could care less as long as it wasn't her people that did the dying.

Days passed and she grew restless. She didn't show it really, just a few could notice her unease. Melia, cousin to Leander on his mother's side worked in her household. She had been trained like Leander but more to work as a domestic in someone's home and to gleen information that would be needed. She had used the girl around the island as she worked for parties that entertained the Lord Governor. She was good at serving and was innocent enough to come across as helpless. She wasn't though and could defend herself with a dagger if need be...she was however, hopelessly infatuated with Melisande.

Usually the fascination wains as they age to maturity and start to work in the field of covercy or as an estate worker. Melia has stayed steadfast in lust with her Patroness for years now, since she was fourteen. Her eyes were dark and her hair brown. She usually avoided anyone with Phedre's coloring but it tonight pricked her fancy. She knew her cruelty would be too much for the girl, she had submissive tendencies...but to kneel and submit to Kushiel's scion was a different matter. Melisande knew it would upset Missier Maignard as well. He had taken her in as a family member. Her mother was born in Camlach to a Sharizhai cousin and a small minor lordling-Leander's uncle . They both died in the Skaldi invasion and he had fetched the young child when Melisande was first ensconced in La Serenissima. It was a complication she didn't need in her own household...yet she yearned to see fear and pain in someone's eyes.

Melia filled her bath with hot water, Christo carrying many buckets and a hot huge kettle on the fire to keep the warming pot ready. "You will stay and attend me Melia. Shut and bar my door...what is your signale?" She said the words in her honeyed tone as Melia nearly dropped the fragrant oil she was pouring into the water.

"Oh...oh miLady Melisande..um it is the word Lotus," she breathed excitedly as she placed the oil down before her shaking hands dropped it. " Yes, I will bar the door." She turned to do it and Melisande dropped her robe, sliding into the water as her back was turned. She enjoyed the look on her face when she realized she missed seeing her naked form out of the water.

"You've played a bit with some of the Maignard clan, yes? Not Leander, you aren't his type but the assistant vintner and stable apprentice, yes? Do you like it when they hurt you, little bath servant?" Melisande pointed at the sponge and looked at her with distaste that she stood frozen there in place. Melia blushed deeply at the words and she felt the quickening in her breasts as the girl stammered and moved with alacrity to start bathing her Mistress.

"Yes...yes. miLady, I'm not an adept of Valerian house but they've all enjoyed playing their games with me...and yes Rodrigo would like more. He enjoys.."

"Bondage. He is an expert at it really...must be all the time with harnesses and rope," her voice purred and Melia shivered all over. She was washing her shoulder licking her lips when Melisande ordered her to strip.

"Get undressed quickly, naked with your thighs far apart kneel abeyante beside the tub," Melisande watched her obey immediately, her small red tongue darting out to lick her lips in a nervous gesture. She saw all of her faults and three ways to exploit each one but in the end the girl had nothing of value to her but her virgin innocence to the taste of Melisande's pain. The best was to just completely dominate her and take pleasure from her pain then leave her wanting. Melisande was honest enough to recognize she needed to do this to distract her from the fact Phedre would be there soon. She was vulnerable and she didn't like it at all. Reaching under the towel she placed earlier, she withdrew two wonderfully harsh pincers. Each had a metal set of teeth that cut into the flesh causing true pain from the moment it clamped down. They were connected with a heavy chain that she planned on holding and yanking as instructed Melia on how to please her orally.

"Put these on….you can make a sound, I like to hear how they hurt," she told the girl in a velvet tone. It was the voice she used to try and get her lovers to please her. Melia blanched when she saw them. She knew that they would hurt immensely.

"Please miLady...there are wooden…"

"I didn't offer those did I, Melia? Are you going to please me or not?" Her tone lost amusement and warmth. She watched as the girl squared her shoulders and reached for the painful pincers.

"Yes my Lady Melisande, I want to please you," she whispered. The girl didn't waiver as she placed first one then the other on her nipple. She didn't pinch up more flesh to take the sting from the tender sensitive flesh either. The tears were immediate and she held her breath trying to release it through the pain and she made the most delicious grunting pain noise. Melisande leaned up and over the other side of the tub, offering her back to the sponged. She smiled and felt the warmth flow through her body as the girl had to kneel up and press the chain to the tub to wash her thus.

Her whimpering from the pain was like a warm oil poured all over her body. She could hear the wings of Blessed Kushiel in her ears and the edge of her vision starting to taint red. "Very good Melia..see you can stand the pain...now. You know I will make it worse soon….you know I will demand so much from you until I finally let you taste me." She looked over her shoulder as she spoke the last to watch the flash of need in the girls shining eyes. The resolve to try and take all the pain that was given for such a sweet reward.

"You've wanted to taste me for a long time haven't you girl?" Melisande used her honey toned voice again, like a caress to urge her plaything to reach further and cause herself even more pain. She cried out as the chain tugged on the edge of the tub, pulling at her left nipple hard. "My lower back too, don't do a poor job because pain has distracted you."

"Yes, miLady...yes I have wanted that," her voice was harsh to keep from crying and it was musical to her ears. She made her bathe her all over..reaching now and again to yank at the chain which totally undid the girl. She started to beg then, begging to have them removed before they damaged her nipples. She ignored her and just instructed her to wash someplace else or to rinse her hair. Once her bath was over she moved to the edge of the tub and spread her thighs, dripping water onto the tile. The young girl knelt, hunched over as if to help the weight of the chain.

"Take that chain in your mouth and crawl to me...kneel up and offer it like a dog with a leash. If you do a good job, I'll hold that leash while you try and please me," she told her in a husky voice, showing her own desire at the girl's painful abasement. She cried quietly for a while, thinking Melisande knew of giving her signale. She would honor it if the girl gave it. It was heresy not to honor it. She hoped she wouldn't though because using the pincers to make her sob in pain as she tried to suck her clit was how Melisande wanted to come to ecstasy. Slowly the girl pulled the chain up, forcing the pincers to yank her nipples up and she put the chain in her mouth, looking up at Melisande as she crawled the five feet to the tub's edge. She made her hold it until she whimpered and begged enough with the chain in her mouth, sobbing and forcing the pincers to pull even worse.

She took it and let her hand drop low, the weight of her breasts pulling down and giving some relief before the bounce brought another wave of pain. She knew her nipples were numb with pain now and the flesh around the nipple is what burned so intensely now. She'd feel her nipples ache for days after this...Melisande bit her lip and imagined the girl riding a strong male cock while she sucked each bruised nipple until it bled in her mouth. She shivered in delight and Melia's face brightened some to see proof her suffering was pleasing.

Pulling the chain now she put the girl between her legs, her hissing to try and keep the pressure off the chain was for naught. Melisande knew how to use the pincers for her own pleasure. She reached under her own thigh, and pushed the servant's head down to rest on her mound. "One yank means keep doing what you're doing….two means stop and do better. Think you can remember that simple servant?" She yanked once for emphasis.

"Ahh please no Mistress, please don't yank," she begged again.

"Mouth on my clit, tongue licking it quickly with short dabs...you're going to be there a long while, so I'd learn how I like it if you want to keep your nipples," she said with such glee in her voice. Melia lowered her head as she cried and did as instructed. Melisande was pleased and smiled as her tongue started the quick flicks. "Yes slut...good….now you get to taste me, I hope it is everything you dreamt about...is it?" Melia didn't answer, just kept sucking and flicking as instructed. Melisande yanked twice on the chain, she screamed on her clit, head darting up to show how her lower face was already wet from her service.

"I asked you if it was everything you've dreamt about. Are you so rude you can't answer a question? You can talk with your mouth pressed into my sex...you're a slut servant, nothing more...get used to trying to answer questions when your mouth is in use," she intoned in an amused voice. The girl's eyes were desperate to please and to do anything to keep Her from yanking the chain.

"Yyyess Mistress, your taste is wonderful, please please don't," she started to beg and Melisande yanked the chain again, pushing her face back where it belonged.

With a chuckle she instructed her to do other things with her tongue, yanking twice when she did it wrong, making the girl cry so hard she could barely catch her breath. She eventually ground out her intense orgasm as the slave screamed when one of the pincers finally popped off. There was blood she knew, nothing that wouldn't heal clean but it was enough to give her such a release she moaned it into the night air, letting the pleasure sound mingle with the sweet cries of the servant and her signale, uttered at last.

After a moment of enjoying her pleasure, Melisande reached down and took off the other pincer. The screams of pain as the blood rushed back to her abused flesh was enough to make her shudder again. She petted her softly as she knelt askew on the cold tile at Her feet.

"There...there...you did well. No more though, stay naked and clean up the bath, then you can put on your camisk and go back to your quarters. There will be some ointment you can put on them tomorrow," Melisande stood and waited on the girl to place a towel around her. It took Melia a few moment to realize she was dismissed and ordered about her chores. It took her a few heartbeats to realize that the entire scene had halted at her signale and she would get no care or relief of her own needs. Standing she placed the towel around her Mistress and did as she was told with a quiet tone, " Yes, Mistress."

Melisande walked into her bed chamber, the girl already forgotten as the traces of her own pleasure faded away. She sat and brushed out her wet hair, looking at herself in the mirror. She couldn't help but wonder what Phedre would think of her legendary beauty now. She had lines about her face, smile lines and her hair was starting to grey at the temples. She didn't cover up her aging but rather embraced it as the natural progression. Melisande knew the effect her beauty had on others but did not preen or act at all vain. It was just a tool in her arsenal. She did wonder at Phedre's mind on the subject though and hoped that she felt as comfortable in her own skin as Melisande does now. She was seven years her senior.

She reached for the wooden casket, opening it she let the smell of cedarwood wash over her. Her hands went immediately to the wonderful sketches of Phedre. She lifted one, her favorite because she was looking to the side with such love in her eyes. On the back Leander had written that she was talking to Imriel at the wedding.

"What do you want from me Phedre?" she asked to the night air...only a soft ocean breeze replied.