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Ingrid sat perched on the windowsill, her profile beautiful and her golden hair falling in curls down her back. He burned the image to his mind—the image of her lost mind and bright green eyes forlorn as they looked upon the sea of trees that comprised of the Hult Province. She appeared youthful and at peace, the ghost of the woman that enchanted him once upon a time.
She was ill.
As far as the stories went, there was truth in the origins of when it all began. They were married for a few years and struggled to conceive. They lost one child when Ingrid was only three months pregnant with it and for a short while, it disillusioned them. He focused his attention on his work with the Ionian House and she recovered from the loss for both of them.
She possessed more strength in her small, frail-looking body than he could ever dream of having. She was a pillar. His.
The day that their princess was born was one of both joyous and damning occasion. He wasn't upset by her gender. No. Women were born to rule the warrior people of Ione. That was never the issue. It wasn't that he saw her and that his heart did not respond accordingly, either.
The day the midwife presented her the child and he held the bundled, squalling child in his arms, he was eager and trembling with excitement. He rocked her gently, so small in his hands, and looked at Ingrid in her bloodied bed with tears forming in his eyes. He took Ingrid's hand and squeezed it tight, thanking her. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it repeatedly as he professed his love to her. To match that joy by any other occasion would be impossible because nothing in the world existed that could possibly make him that happy.
He sat at Ingrid's side, returning the child to her. Together they admired her round pink face and trembling mouth. Her eyelashes were pale, she didn't appear to have a trace of eyebrows, and there were only a few wisps of blond hair atop her round head. He rubbed her furrowed brow gently and she shuddered. The infant finally calmed in the warmth of her mother's chest, her small ear pressed over Ingrid's slow beating heart going thump, thump, thump, like a rhythmic lullaby.
Around them, the midwife and servants gathered the dirty sheets and towels, slowly cleaning and rearranging the room, returning it back to its former state.
"What should we name her?" asked Ingrid, looking at him with bright, sparkling green eyes.
"Serra?" proposed Hákon.
Ingrid puffed her cheeks out in a frown and shook her head.
"No? What about Elaine?"
"Maybe we should think about it for some time?" asked Ingrid. She was distracted by the midwife leaving and called out to her. "Maeve. Please, come here. Tell us what you see."
Hákon watched the squat woman with the wild hair move to Ingrid's side. The woman was a midwife, not among the popular women in her profession because there was a rumor that she was a seer. Ingrid believed this. He was a little more skeptical about it.
It was in that instant, where Maeve covered the infant's forehead with her weathered hand and closed her eyes to predict the end that everything slowly descended a spiral of darkness. The end. He was the key. She was the lock.
She tried to drown her.
That was when it happened. That was when he knew that she was ill. She was giving her a bath, scrubbing their giggling child behind the ears one minute and the next, she pushed her head under the water and held her there, her eyes were black and void of emotion. He had to push her hard, away from the girl because she wouldn't let go. The young servant that saw would never speak a word of it. He could not allow her to do so and in a split decision, pushed her out of the window to a chorus of his daughter's coughing and wailing.
Ingrid started to scream, lucid again.
That seemed like so long ago now. Sixteen years to be exact.
Ingrid noticed him and dropped her feet down on the carpeted floor, moving towards him. As she approached, he knelt before his queen, feeling her hands fall atop his head, fingers ghosting across his short hair.
"Asta?"
"She is with Johan," he answered, reaching for her hands to kiss them. There was a code between them. One that they established long before the sickness corroded her insides until she became a foreign sight, bone thin and withering like a flower without water. He waited for her to speak the code to know whether she was lucid or not. It would make the difference between talking around in circles or directly.
"I saw a crane bathing in the lake," she told him.
He rose to his feet, releasing her hands.
"I secured the Kou Empire," he said, dropping all airs. "They will send an envoy to settle a contract. It is likely that they will want the entire Byzen Cluster as a dowry."
"One day, they will understand why they must sacrifice their kingdoms and crowns to the empire. If she falls into the wrong hands, it would be disastrous. So, she cannot stay here and she cannot go out there. How do we win in this situation? Do you know?"
"No."
"I don't have much time left. My body is weak. It grows weaker every day. I won't survive much longer."
"She will have me. I promise you. For as long as she needs me, even if I have to guide her in death."
Asta opened her eyes and saw the wooden canopy materialize above her. Along with it were specks of shining gold floating around her face slowly vanishing. She opened her mouth to speak Egil Vång's name to end him, but from her lips a strange croaking sound came out and her throat contracted painfully, dry. All of her limbs were heavy and her skin was prickled, thousands upon thousands of bumps surfaced from the sudden cold.
"Princess!"
Hua's worry-stricken face appeared above her, pale with her dark eyes wide with emotional tears.
"You're awake! Oh, good, you're awake!" She sounded so relieved before she scrambled away to fill a glass of water for her to drink. Hua helped her drink a bit, but Asta felt little of it go down her throat and started to choke, coughing it all back up with a little else that tasted of copper. Hua wiped up the water and blood from her mouth and neck. "I'll call Lord Baron and inform his majesty immediately."
She tried to grab Hua's wrist before she went, but she couldn't raise her hand to do so. Hua ran out of the room. She tried to call out to her, but the bedroom door slammed shut with her hurried exit. They needed to know that Egil was to blame before it was too late. He almost killed her. He killed her father. He killed Nikias.
Baron and Kouen entered the room several minutes after Hua left it.
"You were saying that there was blood?" asked Baron.
"Yes, a little," said Hua.
"I see. I have a few other concoctions I haven't tried, but they're a little stronger. One of the previous mixtures must have done the trick since the fever broke." Baron covered Asta's forehead with his hand. He smiled down at her. "You have a little color in your cheeks. It'll be a bit before we get the poison out of your system, but you'll get better every day. So, please, Asta, don't cry."
She closed her eyes as tears slid down the side of her face. She didn't realize she was crying until he said it.
"Can you speak?" asked Kouen, looking down at her from where he stood behind Baron's seated form.
She tried, but it hurt. She spoke illegibly, trying to sound out Egil's name because she needed to tell them. All of them to be wary of him. Imprison him. Execute him. He couldn't get away with what he had done. He couldn't. How dare he?
They were frustrated tears.
How could he?
"There was a lot of swelling in your throat because of the poison. You'll talk little by little. Day by day. Just practice."
Baron fed her a mixture of an antidote and promised a different dose on his next visit to her room. He asked her to rest as much as possible and took Hua aside to talk about what she would be feeding her later that afternoon.
It was morning. There was no light filtering into the room. It was dark, lit only with a cluster of candles she saw in her periphery sitting on the table next to her bow.
Kouen waited for Baron and Hua to depart. He sat down beside her and she felt his fingers ghost across her knuckles. The skin underneath his touch burned. His red eyes were lowered as he felt the palm of her right hand. Her numb fingers reacted to his touch, twitching reflexively.
She parted her lips.
"Don't force yourself to speak," he told her, holding her hand in his with a strange gentleness. The cold of his touch seeped into her flesh. "Sleep, eat, and grow stronger until you can leave this bed."
She nodded slowly, closing her eyes as more tears spilled from them. She felt his thumb sweep across her left eye, removing the tears. She startled, her eyes fluttering open. He was closer to her and reaching to wipe the tears from her other eye.
Kouen leaned forward and kissed her lips. "You're my queen, Asta, and you're not allowed to die."
He said it because he needed her. That was all. Maybe there was some concern. They knew each other long enough to have become familiar and more comfortable, but not for her to allow a few words to make her heart swell so much it would burst. However, it was nice to feel that way. It calmed her down.
She exhaled deeply.
Kouen pulled away, but she tightened her hold on his hand. She couldn't let him go. He returned to his seat. She tried to sound out Egil's name remembering how after she had taken that sip of water, he had revealed that he killed her father and Nikias, but she could only croak out a few sounds.
"What is it?"
Her bow at the table caught her attention and she raised her heavy hand, her fingers trembling as she tried to curl them in her palm to point at it with her forefinger. He followed the direction that she pointed towards.
"The bow?" he asked, turning back to her.
She nodded.
With a lot of difficulty, she brought her pointing hand to her lips. It felt like a stranger's hand, heavy and foreign because of the numbness.
Egil poisoned me.
He arched an eyebrow.
He poisoned me.
She tapped her lips.
Egil poisoned me.
Tiny gold birds fluttered around him. He narrowed his eyes.
"Say it again," he said. He heard her.
He poisoned me.
He poisoned me. He killed my father. He poisoned Nikias.
"Who?"
Egil.
Egil.
Egil.
Egil.
Egil.
She repeated it to the point that she shouted it in her head. She would have screamed it at the top of her lungs, but as she repeated it, she noticed a change in his expression. His eyebrows drew together.
"Egil Vång?" he asked. "He did this."
She nodded.
Kouen left the room quickly and she saw him approach one of the guards posted at the entrance before the door slammed shut. Her whole body shook and she closed her eyes, the frustration in her ebbing. It was done.
He wouldn't hurt anyone.
Not again.
Ever.
She should have felt satisfied with that because she was furious after having learned that he was to blame for those deaths along with the attempt he made against her. She needed to remind herself that an attempt against her life simply could not be forgiven. The same went for any life. It wasn't right. Hers wasn't any more special than others.
Asta wished she could have continued to sleep, but she was incredibly restless because she didn't know what was happening out there. Would he be caught? Of course, he would. Kouen would take care of that. He was probably the most efficient person in the castle. After the things that he told her as his fingers caused goosebumps over her skin, she would never doubt him.
"You are my queen, Asta, and you are not allowed to die."
She exhaled deeply again.
Baron returned hours later to give her another dose of a new antidote and he brought her up to speed on the outside situation.
"The bastard and his son were gone when we went out there. All of the blacksmiths were imprisoned, a few of them confessed to knowing after a little torture." Baron looked at a couple of his vials. "Nobody knew what poison he used. We're looking all over Corrin to find him. He won't get away, Asta. Know that you are safe here and sleep. You need it."
Asta cried in frustration.
Hua returned and rarely left her side. She helped her eat, bathed her, and dressed her. She did this diligently. She wanted to make sure that she got better as soon as possible so that she could return to her husband's side. Kouen wasn't sharing her room either, but he visited on occasion when he wasn't busy hunting down Egil and his son. He didn't speak to her much as he tended to arrive while she was asleep and when she would wake, she would hear the soft noise of a page turning like a whisper in her ear.
Baron took care of her, nursing her back to health. Agnes dropped in occasionally, sometimes accompanied by Christin. The shorthaired magician once took it upon herself to beautify her, so that she could appeal to her husband even while she was in bed recovering from near death. For several hours, Asta truly believed that she was going to look beautiful until Kouen walked in, took one look at her face, and told Christin to scrub the paint from her face. Asta almost cried. Christin laughed so hard she actually did cry.
Aghi and Carina worked outside in shifts with the other guards. They told her all of the gossip concerning the capital, which had settled after Kouen had taken control of it, and the little information they possessed about Egil. They told her that he bribed the people with stores of food and money, as well as the promise of a better future. She imagined he was a much more articulated speaker, capable of inspiring anyone, because everything seemed to have fallen into place. Some people were simply natural born leaders, she supposed, but she wasn't going to be jealous of her husband for how much he accomplished in so little time. She was learning her way around those things.
In actuality, it made her happy to learn that he had not used force as he so often promised. It appeared to her that as skilled as Kouen was at war, he was very good at settling things diplomatically.
She learned Egil made it off with two of Agnes' magicians, which explained why Christin and the Kou Empire's magic users were having trouble pinpointing his location. Nothing about them was known. It was as if they had turned to smoke.
It took time. She stopped counting the days since she woke up because they all blurred together into a single never-ending day. Little by little, she was doing more and with less pain, but there were times when she was forced to go back down until the fever broke. She talked more and more every day, the swelling in the inside of her throat diminishing until there was nothing left hindering her speech.
Asta was taking care of all of her basic needs in a week and by two, she was back on her feet, moving around restlessly in an almost transparent shift waiting for Kouen to return to sleep. Earlier that day, he reminded her that they had a few conversations pending. She was dreading them and hoped that by some miracle, Egil was found instead.
She didn't know enough about the Tzap Incident or Torran language or any of those other interesting things that he wanted to talk about because she never paid attention to those bits when she attended lessons. She hated that reality as well.
She thought that she could distract him somehow. She didn't know what she was going to do yet.
Asta startled as soon as the door opened, but relaxed after seeing Christin, who sauntered in with an awed look.
"You have no sense of danger, letting whoever wants to barge in," she commented, her bright green hair bouncing around her jaw line. She didn't say the words in a condescending way, rather it sounded more like an observation that she was making. "I suppose that's why you are so well liked. Your king, however, is a different story, security everywhere, nobody passes without his approval, some people don't even get to look at him cause they're beneath him. It's amazing really. You really want to mess with those types—hey, what's with the getup? Are you going to sleep? Or are you taking a bath? Am I asking too much? Agnes says I talk too much and ask too many questions, in fact, she told me to limit my questions to you to one and to your husband to zero. I'm just naturally curious, you see. Nothing wrong with that right?"
"No," said Asta, unsure of whether or not she expected an answer to all of those questions. "Curiosity is good to have. My mother always said so."
Christin brightened. "Was it true? That thing about your mother?"
"What?"
"At the expense of sounding rude and all, but you know"—and Christin leaned close to her and whispered the word—"crazy."
"She was ill," said Asta. She couldn't hold other's curiosities against them or act offended because the rumors were all they knew. The youthful magician didn't mean to be mean about it either so she had no qualms about answering her questions. "She wasn't crazy."
"Oh, sorry, that must have sounded bad, right?" asked Christin. "My mother was ill, too. She used to hallucinate and boom there were flesh eating fish in the sink. She was a magician like me. Both of my parents were actually. My dad died though. In a war too. My mom, she started losing it when I was still little, but I had my older sister to help, so it really wasn't that bad. Although, flesh-eating fish aren't something you want in the water around the house. One bit a bit off my leg, I've still got a scar on my thigh, wanna see?"
Without her giving her and answer, Christin raised her skirt up to her thigh to show her a small scar a few feet above her knee.
"It hurt like Satan."
"I'm sorry to hear about your mother and father," said Asta.
"Thanks." Christin casually leaned back on the foot of the bed. "So are you trying to seduce the king or something?"
"Seduce him? No," she answered. "Why would I?"
She shrugged. "To keep things interesting, I guess. For someone that's bad in bed I didn't think he'd be hard to please, so you can probably get away with being lazy, which is great."
She lost her. "What?"
"You just don't have to try so hard. I mean, excuse my frankness, but I have dealt with some weirdos that really make you pull out all the stops. It's good exercise, but it isn't that much fun. Sometimes you have an itch and you have to scratch it. I generally don't enjoy it. Not really and the less I have to do the better, but everyone is different."
"Oh." Asta couldn't believe that she was thinking about everything that Christin finished blurting out. She didn't have much experience so it amazed her to know someone that did have it. "So is that normal? Not to enjoy it."
"It feels normal to me. Why shouldn't it be?"
"I had trouble...adjusting to it," she said, embarrassed. "It feels good now…w-well recently, but before it was terrible."
"Oh right, well, you're a princess and it must have been your first time with him, huh? It's normal not to enjoy it at first. It gets better. I don't like the act at all, but sometimes I just feel like doing it. Again, everyone is different. You should do well here. Distracting him in that scant shift. You're a pretty girl, princess. I'm sure the men just line up for you all automatic and whatnot."
She laughed. They didn't, of course. She was small and her body wasn't as well-developed as other women. Then again, women came in different shapes and sizes. She assumed that Kouen likely preferred someone with a bigger chest and taller, leaned body—like Agnes, who was all curves and sex appeal.
"Well, I think I took too much of your time," said Christin headed for the door.
Asta had a thought. The magician said it herself when she pointed out Asta's appearance but she didn't know what she would do to actually detract from having that conversation he wanted.
"How does one go about seducing someone?" she asked aloud.
Christin stopped by the door. "All you have to do is get naked and you're already halfway to conquest."
That didn't help.
Kouen showed up after Asta had grown tired of waiting. As he walked to the bed briskly, she realized that she couldn't just take off her clothes. She was too shy. It wasn't like he had never seen her naked. He had on various occasions and at the end of the day that was just the sort of distraction that she believed might be a good idea to use against him to avoid talking about her embarrassing past.
However, she caught herself watching him undress as if he was doing it in slow motion. His body was taut, skin tight across his chest and abdominal muscles, and his back was broad, smooth, and perfect. He had the body of a warrior, thoroughly toiled with until reaching perfection. Running her hands down his hard muscles was something she enjoyed taking advantage of during sexual relations.
Kouen joined her, sliding into her bed from her side, which made her move to make room for him. Her red-tinted cheeks amused him because he smiled and brushed his fingers across her warm face.
"I've given you plenty of time to recover to have this conversation," he started. "Tell me about the Sacred Pillars and the Torran language on them."
"Well, you know what the pillars are because of what Ilya said," she said nervously. "There isn't much research committed to them in Ione, so I don't quite know about them. As for the language on the pillar in Ione, I think it's just...a story."
She stole a glance at his face and grew anxious knowing that he was staring at her blankly. Oh god. Her face heated up, turning an agitated red shade.
"...You don't know anything about the Torran language," he deducted.
"I can barely read it, but the scholars in Baryon would be a good source of information if you want to know more."
"You were learning it for a reason and you will finish the teachings even if I have to teach you the language myself. No more distractions."
"You would be a distraction."
"I would?"
"Yes, you would. I'll learn what you want me to, but don't teach me, I'll never pay attention to anything you say," she blurted.
She'd probably grow bored and stare at his mouth until he let her kiss him into distraction. She'd never learn with him. At least not something like that where normally the strictest instructors were necessary in hammering new information into her brain. She learned better with harsh teachers that made sure she was learning and not daydreaming. Sure, they yelled at her a lot and chased her down until they found her, but she learned because of them.
He laughed.
"I'm sorry!"
He didn't stop laughing. She didn't understand why that was and grabbed him by the top of his robe, the soft material slippery in her hold.
"Why is that funny? I was being honest!" Despite the protest, she felt giddy about having made him laugh...even if it was at her.
He stopped, taking her small hands in his and removing them. "You aren't telling me something."
No.
"No?"
He shook his head. He couldn't be that perceptive; then again, it wasn't as if she wasn't being obvious about her crush on him. Everyone knew about it. She wouldn't be shocked if he knew. Oh. If he did. She assumed that her father might have told him to take advantage of it. That disappointed her. Would he was another question? She didn't ask it.
Then again, he didn't say anything after. He took her chin between his forefinger and thumb to draw her into a kiss. It was all she wanted after feeling the press of his mouth on hers two weeks ago. He definitely understood her. He was very perceptive catching all of the signs.
One of his hands fell over her thigh and the resulting heat spread from across where he left it. The other hand was moving from her chin to wrap around her waist, closing the gap between them. She opened her mouth against his with a bit of nudging on his part and her stomach jumped when his tongue slid across her lower lip. She wrapped her arms around him to deepen the kiss and slid closer to his body.
They separated for breath. His red eyes locked on hers and she was breathing shallowly, a swell of excitement went through her like a shock of electricity.
She understood what came next. She nodded before leaning in to lock lips with him again. He hoisted her small body onto his lap and slid his hands underneath her shift, moving them up from her backside to the bend of her back to her shoulder blades.
He kissed her with considerably more difference than he ever had before. There was an attractive urgency to his advances. He wanted her. He wanted her bad enough that his control was slipping, but he didn't lose it. Not completely. He would always be in control. One way or another.
"If in any instant you feel weak, stop me," he told her, his breath warm on her mouth and his eyes smoldering red.
"Yeah," she agreed, nodding and accepting the fervent kiss he gave her. Her lips were tingling when he left them to kiss her neck and collarbone.
He pulled back to remove her shift and cast it aside. He pushed her down on the bed, his large hard body above hers. He parted her knees to settle between them and caressed the sides her body with his rough hands. She trembled, from the inside quivering right under the surface of her skin. She couldn't stop. As he left kisses on her chest, turning his attention to her small breasts. Teasing her nipples with his mouth and fingers, licking the erect points with his tongue flicking them, sucking them, nipping at them softly in turns. He left them aching and sensitive, moving down to kiss her navel, making her giggle when he made it to her bellybutton.
She covered her mouth when he looked at her, but he grinned. She wondered if that meant he liked doing all of those things to her. He was certainly deft at it, and he had no reason to try to prove himself skillful to her, or even to make her feel as good as he did recently. Doing these things, or rather engaging in sex specifically was an act to procreate. She assumed that as long as the deed was done, it didn't matter if one felt good or not, but others told her that it felt good, so she was curious.
Would it feel good if he didn't kiss her lips, touch her breasts, or teased the entrance between her legs until she was ready to take his shaft inside? If it was him inserting his penis into her vagina and moving it around, would that be good or simply committing to the job description?
As soon as she felt his mouth against her mons, all thought abandoned her. He buried his face between her legs and kissed her so slow and intimately that she bit down so hard on her lips they bruised. She gripped the sheets, arched her back, squirmed, and panted his name. He focused his attention on the areas that made her cry out louder and performed beautifully until all the knots in her lower abdomen unwound, her inner walls contracting, and the resulting pleasure that washed over her left her limp.
He returned to lie beside her and turned her on her side, kissing her cheek and shoulder. He asked before positioning her on all fours and hovered over her small, naked body with his hair disheveled and his robe falling off his shoulder revealing the tight musculature he gained through years of hard training. He trained her on his fingers, pushing one, then two, and finally three in and out of her smoothly until she was dripping wet and ready for him. He held her by the hips and pressed into her. She wasn't used to it yet, not completely, but her legs weakened, trembled beyond her control. He moved the head of his shaft inside of her shallowly, his own breathing becoming strained as her insides wound tight around him. She wasn't sure if that hurt him, but it was a pleasant feeling for her.
The wet sounds of their joined bodies made her feel embarrassed. Her shoulders reddened alongside her ears. His hand slid up her back, moving up to her head to bunch up her hair to the other side and leaned forward, thrusting more of his shaft inside her the closer his mouth was to her ear. His hot breath tickled down her neck and he wrapped one arm around her upper chest, his hand covered her shoulder. His other hand moved underneath her body sliding further down her navel to her sit just above her clit. She felt so small under him, his weight pressed down above her made her want to melt into the mattress. His body was hot, covered in sweat that she felt falling on her like cold water droplets.
"How do you feel?" he whispered.
"Good. I feel...ahn...sogood."
He thrust into her completely and she moaned too loud. She worried the guards would hear and pressed her mouth into the pillow to muffle the sound. Kouen reached down to snatch the pillow from her, tossing it aside as his thrusts grew stronger and her voice louder. She made a sound in protest, but he only told her that he wanted to hear her voice. He was in too deep. She felt so strange. Incredibly good, but strange and then he started to tease her clit, timing it with his thrusts, and her mind went white, her shaking body numb with pleasure.
It was a combination of all of those things that made her come faster than normal, but he wasn't done yet. He was still hard and pulsing inside of her after her inner walls stopped contracting. He turned her over when she told him that she wanted to kiss him, her voice thin and breathy, and plunged into her. He took her by surprise, robbed her temporarily of breath, but his movements slowed. He created more friction between their bodies as he kissed her softly, their tongues sliding across one another and searching their mouths. She tightened up before her next orgasm. She knew he was close when he groaned into her mouth. It was such a satisfying sound to her ears that she wanted to hear it again and again. She raised her hips to meet his thrust and he moaned again, cursing beneath his breath. She did it again, adjusting to each of his movements until he was bent over her body, pumping into her, with his forehead against her shoulder. His grip on her hands tightened the more she undulated her hips to satisfy him.
His hips jerked, pushing deep inside of her as he released. He remained inside of her for a few minutes before he left her. She folded her legs and brought her knees closed. She laid in bed with her arms outstretched, staring up at the canopy as she tried to regulate her breathing.
Kouen left the bed to clean himself off and replaced his wrinkled robe with another. He returned to sit down at her feet with the damp cloth. Her thighs were all sticky and she wanted to clean up that as well as the coat of sweat on her body.
"Here," he said, handing the cloth to her, but pulled it back, "or would you prefer I do it?"
Asta sat up before standing with his help and, feeling incredibly powerful, went to stand between his legs, feeding off his energy. He stared at her with the same hungry look as he slid the damp cloth up her leg until he reached the end. He kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, something carnal sparkling in them. He threw the towel into the basin of water sitting on the nightstand and dropped her back onto the bed, hovering over her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, inviting him wordlessly to ravish her again.
She slept in his arms pleasantly, feeling a little bit of the pinprick of soreness.
In the morning, with sunlight brightening the room, Asta woke seconds after Kouen sat up in bed, seeming a tad dazed and disheveled. It would be about half an hour before Hua arrived to get her through her morning routine.
Asta woke up refreshed and stretched her tight muscles. She leaned over the pillow sitting by Kouen's feet, draping her arms over his legs. She wondered when she had become so comfortable with him that doing something like this wasn't a huge decision that upon execution would appear suspiciously awkward.
Kouen touched the top of her head and she smiled up at him, resting her cheek on her arm. "Good morning."
"Morning."
Her body remembered the things he did to her last night and her pale, freckled cheeks took on a little bit of coloring. He brushed the back of his fingers over one, pushing away the loose strands of hair that were in the way. She was drawn to his touch, following it to keep his warm palm on her much longer.
"Might I ask you a question?" she asked curiously, recalling the stray thoughts that had filled her head while he was kissing her body until she was panting and so sensitive that the lightest touch took her over the edge.
Kouen took a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingertips. "Is there something you need?"
She swore she saw him murmur the word "soft" before releasing her hair and raised herself up onto a seat, holding the sheets to her chest. She tried to think up a way to say it. There was no way she could phrase it without it being considered vulgar...she supposed.
"We, uhm, what we do—did—yesterday, I know that it is our duty because we need to have an heir, but I don't understand why if it can be done so easily, we do other things." She couldn't look at him after finishing.
"Do you hate doing those other things?" he asked, his finger underneath her chin to guide her attention back to his face.
"No," she assured. "I don't hate them at all! I'm not complaining at all, it's just what I know has been one note really and a lot of people lie to me in order to tease me. Lady Bo just told me I had to have a baby, so I thought it would be more to the point...no in between."
He stared intently at her face for a long silence that made her feel a little awkward about having proposed the conversation.
"The act fulfills more than one purpose—procreation, desire, love," he told her, caressing her face. His finger moved against her bottom lip and she felt her body respond accordingly, all the heat from her face sank down to the pit of her stomach. "I want to make you feel good. It is only fair that you should feel as satisfied as I do."
She swallowed hard, visibly she presumed for his eyes seemed a lot more focused on her mouth. She felt the air thin.
"Do you feel satisfied...with me?" she asked, her breathing gone shallow.
Kouen advanced towards her, taking her gently by the wrists. He moved closer until she was lying flat on her back with his body hovering over hers. His grip on her wrists loosened as he moved his hands into hers, their fingers linking.
"Yes. Very. More and more as your body adapts to mine and I to yours."
She flushed, feeling he was quite responsive. Oh. "Can I do more for you? It feels like you do more and I—"
He shook his head. "Not now. I'm satisfied with what we do."
Asta smiled and raised her upper body to kiss him.
He drew away after a slow, heated lip lock. She chased his lips, his hot breath tickling across her sensitive mouth, and giggled.
"Is the door locked?" she asked softly.
Kouen looked. "No, it doesn't appear so."
"I'll get it."
He released her and she slipped out of bed to lock it. She quietly pattered to the bed to join him again and he met her halfway, pulling her up into his arms. His mouth was quick to cover hers, his hands moving up her back to slide into her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head to deepen the kiss.
The morning was long and eventful, but Asta ended up sick in bed by evening.
"You should know your limits," Kouen said critically.
Asta wept into her hands, curled up under the covers. "I don't want to hear that from you."
{ ii }
Hákon waited idly for Bengt to pack up the maps and plans for Baryon. It would be the easiest kingdom to take. Baryon was Ione's closest neighbor and were firm believers in the evolution of the mind through knowledge—a kingdom of scholars and educators, a hodgepodge of learning. Their army was small, fit enough to serve its purpose, but not strong enough to put up too much of a fight.
A knock made the thoughts in his mind turn to smoke and leave him. He raised his eyes to the entrance, watching Werner peek into the office as Bengt exited with a bow.
"Do you have a moment?" asked Werner, ever polite.
Hákon barely moved from his position, keeping both hands behind him. "A moment? Yes, come in, Werner."
A moment, he thought as he watched his cousin enter the office donned in a relaxed outfit suited for a peasant. Werner was an oddity among the Tjäder family—a black sheep, one would say for he lacked in their trademark ambition. Nepotism bought the family positions for generations, but their own motivations kept power within the family.
Werner entered the army because it was expected of him, but he climbed the ranks on talent and skill alone. Senior Commander of the Ionian army was a bought title, but he earned it. For that, Hákon would admit to some disdain for he never earned his positions save Head of House Tjäder out of merit. What was the point if there was a shortcut? Werner simply did the honorable thing.
"Have you come to see, Asta?" asked Hákon. "She would appreciate some time away from Lady Bo."
"No, I didn't, but I do plan to greet her on my way from here."
"Well, what did you want to speak of so urgently that it could not wait?"
"I come to ask you to relieve Asta of this new burden you've given her."
Hákon laughed. "Again, Werner? Were you not satisfied with my first five answers? Did I not reveal Commander Ek as one of Freja's dogs? I justified my ruling of him, you approved the execution."
Werner's hands curled into fists at his side. "What was I to do? His intentions were cruel, same as yours, but at the very least, he made her happy. You, you've caused her nothing but misery. You took her from her mother—"
"She tried to kill her. Not just once. Twice. She was old enough to realize it the second time." Hákon placed his hands on his desk, leaning forward. "You can ask me to relieve Asta and hand her over to you as much as you want, but she's my child and I do what I see fit for her. She gains absolutely nothing from being babied by the likes of you."
Werner's pale eyebrows knitted. He took offense. He would. If there was a father figure in Asta's life, it was Werner. He taught her everything that she wanted to know. Perhaps, for that reason he was especially difficult with his cousin.
Bengt disturbed them with a knock that cut off whatever remark Werner was about to unleash and at Hákon's beckoning, the balding man entered with a tired look on his face, behind him a squat woman with stringy hair—the midwife.
"Your majesty, I have brought the midwife as you asked."
Werner huffed. "You continue to take advice from this fraud?"
"If you want to continue barking at me, wait outside while I speak with Maeve."
The small woman stepped forward with her hand held up as Bengt excused himself and departed. "There's no need for you to dismiss your cousin so easily. You should keep him at your side, so keep him pleased."
Werner glared at her as she laughed.
"What fortunes do you bring?"
She raised two bony fingers. "I brought two."
"Let's hear them."
With an exasperated huff, Werner stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him, further amusing Maeve.
"Quite the hot temper that one," she commented, but proceeded. "Your campaign against Baryon will go accordingly. As you know, they possess many weaknesses. Exploit them, and you will have no worries. Send Werner alone to Corrin, for the kingdom will need a firm hand."
"Werner alone to Corrin? Do you fear for my life, Maeve?"
"No, I do not fear for it," she said simply. "If you go to Corrin, you will die."
"I will die?" he questioned, the words were of a foreign taste on his tongue.
"Indeed, you will die."
Hákon felt his lips curl at the ends. "So be it."
"It will be a painfully useless death, my prince."
That only made him laugh.
The state of Corrin improved in her absence and Asta felt defeated by her own inexperience. The Kou Empire was not all around welcomed, but the protests against it weren't as loud as the people were aware that without it, they would not have enough to survive. Kouen demilitarized Corrin temporarily to avoid a large-scale rebellion.
More Kou Empire soldiers and builders were helping in the reconstruction. Corrin was officially a part of the Kou Empire's territory and it pained her to recognize how many people had to be lost in order to gain it.
Asta stood outside the palace at the top of the staircase and stared out into the courtyard hedged in by trees.
"It is good to see you up, princess," said Aghi behind her. Carina beside him nodded, smiling.
She smiled at the sound of his voice. "It feels good to be outside."
The sound of quick footsteps reached her and when she turned, she caught a flash of green hair bobbing around Christin's small face. Agnes and Baron followed close behind her.
Christin stopped in front of her, smiling gleefully with her staff behind her.
Baron halted at Asta's side. "Do you have any idea why we were called out here?"
She blinked up at him confused. "Did Kouen call you here?" She looked at the others. "All of you?"
"Yup," said Christin. "We received word from the princes too. Something about meeting with The Conqueror."
"Oh. Does that mean we're moving on?" asked Asta.
"It would seem," said Agnes.
Asta furrowed her brow, displeased. "What about Egil? He's still out there somewhere!"
"That's what I would like to know," said Baron, arms folded over his chest.
Carina peered out from Aghi's shoulder. "Looks like he's coming and he's brought company. Aren't those the soldiers that arrived this morning?"
Aghi looked over his shoulder. "Seems that way. I heard they're his household vessels."
"All of them?" asked Asta.
"I shouldn't be surprised that you don't know how many household vessels he has, but I am. I honestly am," said Carina, disappointed. "Given that by this point you would normally have twenty journals full of notes."
"Twenty journals is an exaggeration!" complained Asta.
"A journal of notes?" questioned Agnes.
"You still keep those?" asked Baron with humor.
"I don't!"
"Yeah, she likes taking notes about the men she likes," Aghi responded, and proceeded to list things off as if he were going through a checklist. "Likes, dislikes, reactions, experiences, etc."
"Stop it!"
"That sounds like an interesting hobby," said Christin, grinning from ear to ear. "I'd like to see just want kind of content such journals possess."
"Stop teasing me!"
"Okay, enough, you all get one last shot before you're all in earshot," stated Baron, serious. "After that, you need to act polite."
Asta grabbed him by the sleeve and whined. "Baron, no."
Carina and Aghi started to whisper to one another, considering their options on what last to say to her before Kouen and his household members reached them, and Christin joined them shortly, adding to Asta's dismay.
"Is that any way to treat your princess?" demanded Agnes, arms folded over her ample chest and frowned at all of them.
Asta felt her heart melt. "Agnes."
"And you, you need to stop being a pushover," she shouted critically. "Start acting like an authority figure!"
"And you're in earshot," announced Baron.
Asta noticed that every person standing around her was quick to relax, seemingly nonchalant by the time Kouen joined them with his company. She counted six men at her husband's back and each one had more distinctive features than the last. She was quiet, blending in with her friends and the magicians, as she stared, stunned, at the two men with inhuman appearances with a hint of wariness. Those two were the tallest among a group of tall men, one shared features with a dragon, he was covered in scales and possessed sharp teeth with light colored eyes and the other had horns and wild hair.
Kouen introduced four of them as his retainers—the two giant ones with monster-like features, the small one with fluffy hair, and the other big one with the round face and blackened teeth. She realized immediately that all four of them did not look at her upon being introduced, they mistook Agnes for Kouen's wife, and she was too embarrassed to step forward when he called for her to do so. Baron had to shove her forward to get her to move and she scowled at him before she composed herself enough to greet them, embarrassed. She could see Christin, Carina, and Aghi shaking trying to hold in the laughter.
She wanted to shout at them all.
The other two men accompanying Kouen were aged military men with stern faces and intimidating presences. The two were titled Left General and Right General.
"Shuu Kokuhyou and Ri Seiryuu"—referring to the generals—"will remain in Corrin for the remainder of my campaign. En Shou and Shuu Kokuton will accompany me to Nohr. Ri Seishuu and Gaku Kin will return with you to Ione."
There was a collective word of agreement from all of them as the words he spoke sank in wondering if she heard him correctly when he said that she would be returning to Ione instead of continuing to Nohr with him. No mention of Egil either.
"Take whomever else you deem appropriate for the journey back, you leave tonight," he continued. "Kin, Seishuu, protect her as you would me."
The short, youthful one and the round-face man brought their hands together, speaking in unison, "Yes, my king."
Asta didn't chase him down, though she wanted to very much. She held all of that impulsive energy and stayed standing, her chest tightening. She understood that she messed everything up. There was nothing that she could've done to succeed (or maybe there was and she was too young to see the solution), but to warrant having to be sent back when she didn't want to leave his side until she knew that nothing bad would befall the people of Nohr and Lorah, that there would be no complications.
Instead, Asta waited for the perfect opportunity to speak with him alone. She followed his orders and chose the people she wanted to accompany her, afraid to ask Baron before he offered to accompany her but finding courage deep in the center of her belly to invite Agnes and her magicians. Agnes surprised her by agreeing before Asta could give her reason to do so.
"Why?" asked Asta, curious.
"Even if I found you disagreeable, it would not stop me from finding you interesting," said Agnes. "Not to mention, you have made me a promise and I swore I would not let you out of my sight until you brought home the princesses and avenged Nikias."
She smiled. "I see."
Hua was ordered to pack her things and she worked diligently with Carina's help, the guard believed it was too much work for one person to do alone. Asta tried to help them because she agreed from the start, but she was turned away. The women used her slow recovery as an excuse, leaving her to sit on the bed with her back against the headboard watching them arrange her things back into her trunk. She tried to read to pass the time, but she was distracted by Carina and Hua's camaraderie. Hua was laughing, which was surprising to Asta, who was used to seeing her more serious.
Kouen dropped in the check up on the progress, dismissing Hua and Carina. By then, the ship was ready to depart at any moment, all of her things were carried on board, Baron's items were carted off along with hers, and food and supplies were restocked. Werner assigned one of his commanders to join her, taking with her the small unit that she commanded, and they were all on board alongside Christin. Agnes and Baron were packing and the household members were outside waiting with Aghi and Carina, who joined them shortly.
Asta got out of bed upon seeing him enter. "I told you before that I don't want to go back."
"Your duty here is done," he told her.
"But I feel like I've failed. Egil wasn't even caught. He's out there somewhere."
"Remember that feeling well," he said, "so that you will never make the same mistakes again."
"But—"
"My men will handle it."
She reached out to touch his arm, but retracted. She lowered her face, looking to the ground between them, the space seeming larger than it truly was. "Then I want to go with you."
"Hurry to Ione and end the rebellion as quickly as you are able," he began, "and once you are done, and your people are happy, come back to my side. I will wait for you."
Asta imagined leaving Corrin under different circumstances seemingly long ago. The guilt slowly spreading from across her chest with each pump of her heart made her aware that she had plenty to learn in order to avoid making the same mistakes.
Worst of all, she became aware that she was afraid about returning to Ione. She felt safer at Kouen's side. Ione was where all of her enemies were and one nearly got away with killing her. He hadn't even been caught.
Asta sucked in a shuddering breath. She hated the feeling rushing through her bloodstream.
Failure. She hated it.
Kouen kissed her so deeply her knees weakened and left her to finish getting dressed.
"I will see you off," he said as he left.
Alone with her failure, she felt it start to bubble painfully inside of her. She didn't want to feel it again, so she tried to commit it to memory.
As Asta walked down the white halls of the castle atop the hill, she saw servants moving through the hallway, passing through the soldiers at her back, in a large opened hall where a pair of thrones sat, she watched as the Kyros and Theodora rose from the while marble to slip into a crowd of twirling strangers, and when she crossed the threshold of the entrance, she turned back in time to see Nikias bow low with a sparking crown atop his silver head before he faded into the air.
"Bring them home."
I will.