A big thank you to Batty Dings, EvaLark, lindaweng, SloaneDestler, Child of Dreams, Aphaea21, Phantomgirl21, Teen543, Mominator124, FleshofMidnight, and peanutpup for the lovely reviews! I really appreciate them :)
Also, thanks to Mominator124 for pointing out the copper vs iron - I changed the tree from copper to iron.
Enjoy!
OH!...forgot content warning-
CW: Sexual content :) This is a fluffy, filthy chapter for you all.
Christine
Chapter 54
The Birthday
It was an attempt to make her appear mad, he told me. To ensure that if her shrewd eyes suspected him of anything, of Nadir or Ibrahim, that no one would put true stock in her words. She's a madwoman. The Shah was suspicious enough of everyone that, if she did make accusations, it might not divert him, but it was something. To date, she hadn't suspected a thing - but insurance was insurance.
He apologized for what I saw, for what I now knew.
I told him it was fine, that it didn't bother me.
I asked him if that bothered him - that I felt a sort of satisfaction at watching the Khanum suffer.
He told me no.
He told me he felt the same way.
I decided that night that, perhaps, cruelty isn't something that is learned. Perhaps cruelty is innate in all of us - it simply demands the presence of others' cruelty to emerge. Maybe, then, the only way to end suffering is to squash those who might cause suffering. The idea of ending cruelty through love and peace is a beautiful idea, but fit merely for stories at bedtime.
And that's the great paradox.
To end cruelty, one must be cruel.
Then how does one ensure that the cruelty stops? If you destroy a cruelty, then you yourself are cruel, and so someone else must destroy you.
And so on, forever.
So how does it stop?
The only solution I could think of, before drifting off to sleep, was that to truly end cruelty...
The cruel must destroy themselves.
A week later, Erik awoke me with a kiss.
I hummed happily against the touch, eyes still closed.
He moved his lips to my cheek, kissing it gently, before whispering, "Happy birthday, my darling."
I opened my eyes. "Oh!-"
"I got you a gift." He pulled away and smiled at me. "Would you like it?"
"A real gift?"
"Mhmm."
"You haven't left the palace - I think, at least-"
"I haven't." He leaned up his elbow, gazing with love at me. "Nadir retrieved it for me. He says happy birthday."
I sat up fully. "Nadir did?"
"Yes." He smirked. "Shocking, I know. I thought for sure he'd refuse. But it seems it's me he's cross with, not you. He actually does like you - me, on the other hand-"
"He doesn't act like he likes me."
"Think of how he treated you before he caught on to my feelings for you." He sat as well. "So fatherly. Don't you remember?"
"I do." I paused. "But I am nervous around him."
"Don't be."
But I couldn't help it - I couldn't help feel that Erik was wrong. That Nadir saw me as a thing in the way, as a barrier between him and what he wanted. That, perhaps, he might do something to make me go away, but whatever means necessary.
I shook the thought away.
"Well, then?" I smiled at him. "Let's see this gift."
Erik leaned in to kiss me, pulled the covers back, and went to his dresser. From the top shelf, he rummaged underneath his clothes and pulled out a silver box. He went to me, moving swiftly, and say. He handed the box to me.
"Open it." He nodded to the container. "Go on."
But I didn't right away. Smiling, I moved my thumb, extremely slowly, toward the small latch that kept it closed. I took as much time as I could unlatching it, so much time that Erik's patience grew too thin. He unlatched the box himself and opened it.
I let out a laugh initially, and then it caught in my throat as I saw what was inside. A necklace, made of shining silver like the box that contained it, and the pendant held a beautiful sky-blue stone, shining in the sunlight that streamed in softly through the crack in the curtains.
"Erik..." I breathed.
"It's topaz," he explained, looking at it. "Like your eyes."
"It's lovely." I looked at him. "You didn't have to do this."
He regarded me gently. "Do you like it?"
"I love it." I kissed him on the cheek, and I swear I felt his entire being soften, relax, melt. "Can you put it on me?"
His eyes sparkled, pleased. "Of course."
I handed him the necklace and turned away from him. He placed the pendant at the front of my throat, and I moved my hair over my right shoulder to give him space to connect the small, fragile chain of the necklace. When I felt his hands finish their work, I turned toward him.
"How does it look? I asked.
He stared at the topaz at my sternum, turned his gaze to me, and kissed me. He pulled away a single centimeter and said, "You look absolutely ravishing. Like a queen."
"A queen?" I leaned back, smiling. "Really, now?"
"Oh, yes." He placed his thumb on the pendant, his other fingers resting on my collarbone. "Queen Christine."
"And what am I queen of?"
"The world." He moved his hand from my collar to my cheek, cupping it. I leaned into it. "Since that is what I desire to give you."
My heart hammered, and I flushed. "What does that make you?"
"Hm." He considered this. "I wish I could say something good, but... Unfortunately, I am still in the services of the Shah. A high-ranking servant, of sorts. You understand."
"You said I am the Queen of the World. Don't I override him?"
"Yes, I suppose so." He grinned. "Well then, great and powerful Queen, I would request that my services be transferred from the Shah to you."
"Certainly."
"Then, Your Highness," he said, bowing his head, "this life is yours. Do with it what you see fit. What, pray tell, is your first command, on this most important day, your day of birth?"
I moved my hand to his chin and lifted it, making him look at me - and in them I saw all the adoration in the world. I think my eyes held the same. "I want you to kiss me again."
Erik studied me, placing his hand over mine where it rested beneath his chin. "Is that all you desire? No breakfast in bed? No bath drawn for you? Just a kiss?"
I nodded.
"All right."
His lips were on mine again, hard and insistent. His hands went to my hair, and he pulled me down to the bed. The atmosphere became warm - too warm - and that persistent desire exploded inside me again. I wanted to touch him, so badly, but I knew he didn't want that. The last time, though, that we'd gone further than a kiss, he hadn't been opposed to-
I pulled away. "Can you touch me again?" I asked in a single breath, closing my eyes.
He didn't respond.
I opened my eyes, expecting him to be staring at me, but he was looking at my clothes instead.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You're in a dress," he explained. "It would require you to take the entire thing off - unless you'd like me to rip it in half, of course."
A beat. I reddened. "I can take it all off. I don't mind." Now he stared at me. "Do you mind?"
"I will still be clothed."
"I know."
A lengthy silence. I told myself not to be embarrassed, that he didn't think me loose. He'd already made it clear he did desire me, wanted me, but that he wasn't ready yet.
"If you're comfortable being without clothes," he said, very softly, "I will not be opposed."
I nodded. I stood and removed my nightdress.
I slept without underthings.
He breathed in deeply, and didn't seem to exhale.
I felt my knees go wobbly. I had to remind myself that my Flower clothes barely covered anything as it was, so really, being completely naked was a mere few pieces of cloth away from what he'd already seen. But his silence was, honestly, quite maddening.
"Is this all right?" I whispered.
He nodded very slowly, and with a shaky hand, patted the bed beside him.
Relieved, if only a bit, I laid next to him.
He didn't look at my body. He had when I'd gotten undressed, but now he focused on my face. He brought his lips again to my lips, and brought his hand to my breast.
A part of me had thought that being naked next to him would satiate that burning desire, but it didn't. Actually, it only made it worse.
"Erik?" I breathed against him.
"Hm?"
My voice was too small; I barely got the words out. I heard my heart in my eyes. "You can touch wherever you'd like."
He stilled, only momentarily. "Wherever?"
"Yes."
"All right." He paused again. "If there is anywhere you do not want to be touched, tell me before I do."
"I do want to be-"
"I know. But still. Tell me."
I nodded. "I will," I whispered.
His lips found mine again. He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding mine. I melted into the bed, into him, into darkness. Into pure happiness.
And then his hand began to move.
Down from my chest. Over my stomach. And then rested between my legs, just over the lips there.
I whimpered, feeling myself tingle, turn wet.
He broke the kiss. "Bad?"
"No." I barely had air. "Good."
His hand, as it rested on me, trembled slightly. "Good." And then, as he continued his kiss, he slipped a cool finger between my legs. I gasped as it passed over a particularly sensitive area. "Good?" he said again.
I nodded quickly, now unable to speak.
But now he didn't kiss me anymore. He watched me, my face, my eyes, as he navigated with his finger the area of my body he'd now started to explore. Watching for my reaction when he moved to particular places. I think he decided, based on my gasps and whimpers, that that little area he'd passed over was the most sensitive. The most pleasurable. And after a small while, he made the choice to only focus there.
It wasn't long before a feeling of intense physical warmth erupted from my core and spread throughout my entire body.
I turned to water. I moaned and gasped against the absolute euphoria, clenching and loosening seemingly against my will. He kissed my temple as I fell apart and came back together.
He made that happen two more times before breakfast.
