Chapter Six
After the previous day's battle, Princess Serenity was confined to her rooms for her protection, forbidden from stepping foot outside the palace even when accompanied by one of her guardians. She was quiet during her morning lessons with Hermione, for once diligent and focused on her studies. Hermione suspected Serenity was trying her best to keep her mind off Endymion, who was expected to sign the treaty that would make Earth an official member of Silver Millennium later that afternoon, thus ending whatever small hope they had of being together.
When Zenobia came to relieve her at the end of the lessons, Hermione gave Serenity a long hug. She didn't know what else to do or say, every sympathetic word that came to mind seeming trite and patronizing. After all, what did she know of heartbreak? Serenity wiped a tear from her cheek when they finally parted, but forced herself to smile when Hermione announced there would be no homework for the night.
As usual after Serenity's lessons, Hermione had a couple of hours of free time. She ate a quick lunch of soup and bread, then headed to the secluded royal gardens, sitting underneath her favorite wisteria tree to read more of the book Zoisite had lent her. In an attempt to keep her mind off of the Earthian general after her conversation with Ishtar, she had stayed up almost half the night reading it, unable to put it down. She was enjoying it quite a bit, although some scenes were rather...explicit in nature.
Mariana firmly pushed Alexander down on the bed and climbed atop of him, his desire for her evident through his trousers. They needed to be quick about it. The king was due back at any moment. If his wife was caught in the arms of another man – an enemy soldier, no less! – she would face certain death at the guillotine, yet allreason abandoned her as Alexander kissed her again, long and hard, his clever fingers loosening the combs in her hair to let her scarlet tresses flow free down her back. Her own fingers reached downward to release his cock from its prison.
"My beautiful Mimi," he murmured as he trailed wet kisses down her neck and chest, her heart thrilling at the sound of the name only he had the right to use. "Every night we are apart, my soul dies a little more. It kills me, to think of you in his bed, letting him touch you...letting him fuck you..."
"I imagine he is you, every time." Mariana gasped as Alexander slipped inside her. "It's the only way I could bear it, I sw–"
"Ah, so you've already reached that part of the story," a masculine voice said, causing her to jump. "You are quite the speedy reader, Princess Hermione."
Hermione pressed the book to her chest and glanced around for the source of the voice. She thought she was alone in the gardens, but Zoisite had snuck up behind her, leaning against the trunk of the tree and looking over her shoulder.
"Lord Zoisite, you startled me," she said.
He straightened his posture. "Forgive me, that was not my intention."
"No, it's...it's fine." Hermione pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling...after everything? Are you in any pain?"
Zoisite placed a hand on his arm, over the area where he had been injured during the battle. "It's a little sore, but nothing I can't handle. The ointment seems to be working well. No signs of infection," he said. "Anyway, mind if I joined you?" With his injured arm, Zoisite held up the botany book she had checked out for him from the palace library. "It seems we had the same idea."
"Oh. Um, I don't mind."
To her surprise, Zoisite laid down on the grass, resting his head in her lap as he held his book up to read. Hermione's cheeks warmed at his over-familiarity with her, but she didn't object, turning her attention back to her novel as she absent-mindedly played with a strand of his loose hair.
They read in silent companionship until Zoisite closed his book and placed it on his stomach. Looking up at her, he asked, "Are you enjoying the story so far?"
"Yes, it's quite riveting. Mariana is a fascinating character, proud and determined to win back her family's crown, willing to do anything to achieve her goals even if it means ultimately destroying her soul…" She paused, thinking back on the scene she had been reading before Zoisite interrupted her. "It's, um, racier than I thought it would be, though"
He chuckled. "That's one of the author's tamer works, if you can believe it. In some more conservative areas of the Golden Kingdom, his books have been banned for indecency by local religious leaders."
"Banning books?" Hermione had never heard of such a concept before. It was contrary to the very core of Mercurian values. "How could they do such a thing?"
"I don't like the idea of censorship either," he said with a shrug, "but the king has more important issues on which to focus his attention."
"I see."
She would have to further investigate the matter. If what Zoisite said was true, then it would be prudent for the palace library to find copies of those banned books in order to protect them from being destroyed.
"What about the book I recommended? Do you like it?" Hermione asked, blushing when she realized how she sounded. "Not that I'm fishing for compliments…"
"Yes, it's an excellent read," he said. "I'm learning a lot about botanical life on the other planets." Reaching for her hand, Zoisite kissed the inside of her wrist. "I must confess I'm more interested in the author than I am the subject, however."
She sucked in a sharp breath. "You are?"
Putting his book aside, Zoisite moved back to a sitting position and caressed the side of her face. "Very much so," he said in a low, soft voice before bringing his lips down to hers.
Hermione found herself melting into the kiss, her own book falling on her lap, forgotten, as she gave into the desire that had been building since that moment in his bedchambers. At the back of her mind, however, she heard Ishtar's concerned voice, advising caution: Well, I don't think he's necessarily a bad person, but he's not someone a girl like you should fall in love with.
"Wait, we shouldn't do this," she said breathlessly, pulling back. "Um, I mean, isn't Lord Kunzite your current lover?"
"I sleep with him, yes, on occasion, but our relationship is nothing more than that. At least...not anymore. I am not one for romantic commitments." His eyes darkened, and he turned his face away from Hermione, drawing a knee to his chest. "I do not wish to leave anyone to cry for me when I die on the battlefield.
"The battlefield? But I thought an alliance with Silver Millennium was meant to discourage future uprisings against the Golden Kingdom."
"Wars will always exist, Princess Hermione. To think otherwise is a fantasy best left to fiction."
Hermione frowned. She wasn't sure she believed that. Her home planet Mercury had not engaged in warfare in well over two hundred years. Disagreements between opposing factions were settled by knowledge and diplomacy, and their military was mainly for show, more accustomed to playing strategy games than engaging in actual battle.
"That's a cynical point of view from somebody who seems to live such a hedonistic lifestyle." Her words came out sounding more judgmental than she intended, but Zoisite didn't take offense, chuckling.
"I've learned to enjoy the beauty of life while I can. I know better than most how it can end in an instant."
"Because of that scar on your shoulder?" she asked, regretting the question as soon as the words left her mouth.
"So, you noticed…" As if in a daze, Zoisite brought a hand to the shoulder in question, rubbing the area where the scar was located.
Hermione stared down at her lap, fingers curling around the spine of her book. "Forgive me, it's not my place to pry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, I don't mind," he said softly, bringing his hand back down. "That scar is from a wound I received in battle a couple of years ago. We were attacking the stronghold of a rebel faction in retaliation for raiding one of our bases, but our intel had been compromised. The enemy's forces were larger than we had been led to believe. My troops fought hard until Khalil could arrive with reinforcements, but..."
Zoisite closed his eyes, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed.
"You don't have to tell me what happened," Hermione said, reaching over to place one of her hands over his, but he shook his head, continuing on with the story after he composed himself.
"I was shot in the shoulder by an arrow. The tip was laced with poison. I'm sure you know that it is generally best not to dislodge a weapon until proper medical attention can be given, but there was no time. If it wasn't removed quickly, I would have died from the poison, so Khalil pulled it out, right there in the middle of the battlefield. It's a miracle I didn't bleed out before I could be taken to a healer. Sometimes, I wish I had."
He said the last sentence in a voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darting to the side as he clenched his free hand into a fist.
"I never wanted to be a soldier," he admitted. "As a child, I enjoyed books, music, and art, but I was born into a family that prided themselves on their military service. It was expected that I would follow in my father's and grandfather's footsteps. I was never given a choice."
Hermione inhaled. She had never been given a choice either. Born possessing the Mercury Crystal, her destiny as a Sailor Guardian had been set from the start. She never resented her fate, proud to serve as one of the protectors of Silver Millennium, but there were moments when she wondered what it would be like to be a normal girl. To be able to devote her life to her studies and marry whomever she chose...
"My father and I... We had a complicated relationship."
She took note of the use of the past tense. "Had?"
"He died a few days after my sixteenth birthday. Killed in yet another senseless battle. People called him a hero, said I should be proud that he died protecting the kingdom. And I was, at first." He leaned back against the tree. "No matter our differences, he was still my father, and I loved him. I wanted him to be proud of me, too."
"You didn't think he was?"
Zoisite scoffed. "I was not the son he wanted. I wasn't particularly strong or brave –"
"Not brave?" Hermione interrupted. "You would say that about yourself after yesterday's battle? I dare say there are few humans who would have done what you did, attacking a supernatural demon in close-range with nothing more than a couple of daggers at hand."
"And didn't you scold me for doing so?" he reminded her, Hermione having the decency to blush. Zoisite lightly chuckled before turning serious once again. "No, what I did wasn't brave. You were right the first time. It was stupid and reckless, yet I didn't care."
"I don't understand."
"No, I imagine you wouldn't. I hope that you never do."
She lightly squeezed his hand. "Lord Zoisite..."
"Zach, there you are."
The two of them looked up at the new arrival, another one of Prince Endymion's guard.
"What is it, Nico?" Zoisite asked, sounding annoyed as he discretely pulled his hand away from hers. "This is my free time."
"Not anymore," Nephrite said, arms crossed over his chest. "Lord Kunzite has called for an emergency meeting. Attendance is mandatory."
"It sounds important. You should go," Hermione urged Zoisite. She didn't want to distract him from his responsibilities. "It's almost time for me to report back to duty anyway."
"Right." Leaning over, his mouth next to her ear, he whispered, "Come to my room tonight. Ten o'clock." Zoisite then rose to his feet, sweeping the grass off the back of his uniform before picking up his book from the ground. He gave a respectful nod. "Until we meet again, Princess Hermione."
He never intended to tell Hermione so much about his past.
As he followed Nephrite back into the palace, down the halls he knew led to the wing where their bedchambers were located, Zoisite pulled his hair back into a ponytail and wondered what had gotten into him. He'd followed Hermione to the royal gardens with every intention of asking for her help in translating a passage in her book that looked promising, having come to the conclusion that trying to translate Curian on his own was an exercise in futility, but that task had fallen to the wayside, his goal forgotten the moment he pressed his lips against hers.
He silently berated himself. He needed to control his emotions when it came to Hermione. Love was not an option, no matter how attractive he found her or how much he enjoyed her company. She was merely a tool for his investigation, that was all.
Zoisite pushed all thoughts of Hermione out of his mind, focusing back at the matter at hand. "Any idea why Kunzite wants to see us?" he asked, as Nephrite had yet to inform him what the meeting concerned.
"No, but I doubt it's good news." Nephrite frowned. "The stars have been silent ever since we stepped foot on the Moon. I cannot foretell what is to come. It makes me uneasy."
Zoisite clenched his hands at his side. Nephrite's talent as a star reader was unparalleled among Earth's psychics, his skill to predict the future almost infallible. If something was interfering with his ability... Zoisite was no psychic himself, yet a sense of foreboding washed over him.
They arrived at Kunzite's bedchambers a couple of minutes later, entering to the sight of Kunzite leaning against the mantle, staring down at the small fire burning below. The glow of the flame's oranges and yellows reflected off his pale eyes. It wasn't until Zoisite closed the door behind them that he glanced up, acknowledging their presence.
"Where's Jadeite?" Zoisite asked, noticing that they were one short. "I thought this meeting was mandatory."
"Guarding the prince while he is in conclave with Queen Serenity. I will brief him later." Kunzite waved toward the plush velvet couch in the middle of the sitting room. "Take a seat."
Zoisite and Nephrite exchanged a look before sitting down at opposite sides of the sofa.
Over by the fireplace, Kunzite reached for a small bell sitting on the mantle and rang it, its tone clear and beautiful. Zoisite was at first confused, wondering why he was calling for a servant, but then the room suddenly filled with a bright, blinding light. He shielded his eyes with his hand, only lowering it when the light faded away to reveal the figure of a young boy in white kneeling on one knee in the center of the room.
He was translucent, like a ghost.
"Helios, I apologize for calling upon you once again," Kunzite said to the boy, whom Zoisite recognized as Elysion's high priest, "but I thought it best that they hear it from you firsthand."
"Khalil, what the hell is going on? What kind of sorcery is this?" Zoisite asked, unable to comprehend how Helios had made it to the Moon without the use of the teleportation pad.
Beside him, Nephrite appeared equally as shocked, staring at Helios with wide eyes. "Is he some sort of ghost? Apparition?"
"No, I am no ghost." Helios's soft, pre-pubescent voice echoed as if he was speaking from far away instead of only a few feet away from them. Rising to his feet, he continued, "I am performing what could be called 'astral projection'. My body is physically in Elysion, but I am able to send my soul to other planes of existence through the aid of a beacon." He nodded toward the bell in Kunzite's hand, which Zoisite assumed was said 'beacon'. "It is a power I have only recently acquired, and it takes a great deal of energy and focus to control, so I ask that you please leave any further questions until later."
"Yes, there is no time to waste on unnecessary explanations at the moment," Kunzite said, placing the bell back on the mantle before walking over to stand behind the sofa. "Helios, tell them what you told me the last time we spoke."
The young priest closed his golden eyes and inhaled a deep breath to compose himself before announcing, "King Oberon's health has taken a turn for the worst. He's...dying. His doctor doesn't believe he will make it through the night. It is only a matter of time."
The news, though not entirely unexpected based on what he suspected, still managed to catch Zoisite off-guard. He clutched at the front of his jacket, his blood running cold.
"No..." Nephrite looked around the room. "This is some kind of sick joke, right?" he asked. "Dr. Caduceus said it was just exhaustion. When we left Elysion, his condition had stabilized. Otherwise, Prince Endymion never would have agreed to come to the Moon, alliance be damned!"
"Dr. Caduceus lied, Nephrite," Kunzite said. "He was following the king's orders. Zoisite overheard them talking about it right before we left. There was some suspicion that the king had been poisoned."
Zoisite appreciated his use of "overheard" instead of the more accurate "deliberately eavesdropped". If Nephrite found out the truth, Zoisite did not have the same trust in him that he had in Kunzite not to report his crime to the proper authorities.
"Poisoned?" Nephrite jumped up from the sofa. "And you didn't think it was important to inform the rest of us?"
He had addressed the question to Zoisite, but Kunzite was the one who answered.
"I was the one who made the decision not to tell you and Jadeite. At the time, Zoisite believed the Lunarians might have been behind it, but we had no proof that His Majesty was even poisoned. If word got out that we suspected our soon-to-be-allies of trying to assassinate our king, the alliance would be put in jeopardy. I believed it best to keep things on a 'need to know' basis."
"Jadeite and I 'needed to know', Kunzite. We deserved to know, damn it!" Nephrite yelled, swiping a small Venusian vase off the side table. The vase shattered as it made contact with the marble floor, Kunzite's jaw tensing but otherwise not visibly reacting. "What about Prince Endymion? Does he know?"
"No," Kunzite said after a short pause. "And we're not going to tell him – at least not until the alliance has been finalized."
Nephrite shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell? Kunzite, have you gone mad? You can't possibly intend to keep this a secret from him. The king is dy–"
"There may still be a way to save the king," Zoisite said, speaking up for the first time since Helios delivered the news.
"Did you find something during your investigation? Some kind of antidote?" Kunzite asked.
"No, but Princess Hermione has one of the greatest medical minds in the known universe. If anyone can cure King Oberon's illness, then –"
"Weren't you the one who suspected the Lunarians of poisoning the king in the first place?" Nephrite interrupted. "Now you want to run to one of them for help?"
"We can trust the princess."
"On what basis? That you want to take her to bed?" Arms folded over his chest, Nephrite scoffed. "Forgive me if I don't quite trust your judgement when you're thinking with your dick."
Zoisite surprised himself with his declaration. When had his relationship with Hermione grown to become one of trust when he had only been using her as a source of intel for his investigation? Yet he knew it in his heart to be true. She was a Sailor Guardian, a chosen soldier and protector, and if they asked, he knew Hermione would be more than willing to help save King Oberon's life.
"Well, do you have any better ideas, Nephrite?" he shot back. "Or have you already given the king up for dead?"
Riled up by the accusation, Nephrite grabbed the front of Zoisite's jacket and yanked him to his feet. Before any punches could be thrown, however, Kunzite reached for their shoulders and pulled them apart. "This is no time for one of your petty squabbles," he said, his voice deep and booming. "Nicomedes, sit back down. You, too, Zacharias. Helios has not finished his report."
Though tempted to argue, Zoisite knew better than to fight back when Kunzite was angry. There was a reason why Kunzite was the most feared of Endymion's guard. While Nephrite was the most prone to losing his temper, even the bravest of soldiers would quiver in the wake of General Khalil Kunzite on the rare occasions he uncapped his rage. Zoisite did as he was told, plopping back down on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. A few seconds later, Nephrite followed suit, and Kunzite tersely nodded, signaling Helios to continue where he had left off.
"The Lunarians were not the ones behind the king's poisoning," Helios said. "An anti-Silver Millennium group calling themselves the Dark Kingdom claimed responsibility about an hour ago. They're currently protesting outside the castle walls."
"The Dark Kingdom? The first I've heard of it," Nephrite said.
Zoisite hadn't heard of it either, although there were always new rebel factions popping up, rising from the ashes of the old ones they managed to quell in a seemingly never-ending cycle.
"They are a new group, but they have already amassed a large number of followers in a short period of time – mostly citizens who disagree with the Golden Kingdom joining Silver Millennium. Their leader is the former Lady Beryl Morganite, the self-styled queen of this so-called 'kingdom'," Helios said.
"Lady Beryl?" Zoisite rubbed at his chin, the name familiar to him. "Wasn't there talk a couple of years ago of a possible engagement between her and Prince Endymion until her family's ties with one of the rebel factions was exposed and they were stripped of their lands and title?"
"Yes, there was." Nephrite frowned. "What's more, her family has been rumored for years to dabble in the occult."
"Well, if the newest rumors are to be believed, this Queen Beryl"– Kunzite said her name like a sneer – "has aligned herself with a fearsome demon, one said to be a master of mind control, amongst other things."
"It is likely that the king's illness was caused by supernatural means," Helios said. "That would explain why there was no trace of poison in either the wine or the king's blood. It is doubtful that there is any medical cure."
Which meant there was no point in asking Hermione for help.
"Then we return to Elysion with Endymion," Zoisite said. "His Golden Crystal has healing pow–"
Kunzite placed a hand upon Zoisite's shoulder. "Zacharias, Endymion already tried using the crystal to heal his father once before, remember? Right after His Majesty collapsed?"
Of course he hadn't forgotten, but… "He can try again. Maybe if he…"
The sentence died away in his mouth, Zoisite knowing it was pointless. If the Golden Crystal's healing power hadn't worked before, the odds were low that it would suddenly have the ability to cure King Oberon now.
There was truly nothing more they could do to save him.
In front of them, the projection of Helios began flickering like the flame of a candle. "I am nearing my limit, Lord Kunzite," he said, his voice sounding fainter than before. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No, that will be all for now. Thank you, Helios. I will call upon you again if necessary," Kunzite said, the priest bowing before his image completely faded away.
Nephrite sighed. "So, what's the plan? You don't honestly expect us to remain here on the Moon, twiddling our thumbs, while our king is dying? If this Dark Kingdom is as big a threat as –"
"There is no change of plans," Kunzite declared, cutting him off. "We will remain here until the alliance is formalized."
Zoisite whipped his head back around. For once, he agreed with Nephrite. "You can't be serious, Khalil! Prince Endymion's father is dying –"
"I'm well aware of that!" Kunzite growled. At his side, his hands were clenched so tightly into fists, they were shaking. "I know Endymion would want to be there..."
"Then why?"
"Why do you think King Oberon ordered Dr. Caduceus to lie to Endymion?"
"Because of the importance of the alliance," Zoisite said, "but that was only a theory –"
"No, that wasn't the reason. At least, not the only reason," Kunzite said. "The king sent Endymion to the Moon to protect him. To make certain the Golden Crystal remained out of the enemy's reach."
Hermione sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. A glance at the clock on the wall showed that it was nine fifty-three. She was supposed to meet Zoisite at his suite at ten o'clock, but she still hadn't decided if she was going to take him up on his invitation.
She wasn't naïve. Hermione knew exactly what he expected to happen if she came to his room so late in the evening, and it would be a lie to say she didn't want it, too, her cheeks flushing in the reflection of the vanity mirror as she imagined what it would be like to be with Zoisite like that, to experience for real what she had only read about in the erotic novel he had lent her.
Yet the mystery behind the ice monster who had attacked them at the lake was still unsolved, no clue to be found as to how it had bypassed Queen Serenity's shield or who might have sent it after them in the first place. Bellona's fire reading still refused to provide any answers. Hermione's intuition told her that Endymion and his guard were not behind the attack, but she was not one to rely on something as illogical as "gut feelings". Just because she wanted to believe Zoisite was innocent didn't make it true.
Besides, maybe Ishtar had been right to warn her not to get too involved with Zoisite. He had admitted himself that he had no desire for a romantic relationship, not wanting to leave behind a grieving lover when he died.
Hermione set her brush down on her vanity, letting out a sigh. It was a sad way to live, denying himself the chance to fall in love out of a fear of some inevitable death. She didn't understand. The previous Lord Zoisite's death during battle had obviously affected him deeply, but that didn't mean he was doomed to follow in his father's footsteps.
Then again, Zoisite seemed to hold little regard for his own life, Hermione recalling what he said in the infirmary after last night's fight...
Making her decision, Hermione pulled a matching robe over her pale blue negligee and headed to the guest bedroom where Zoisite was staying. After looking around to make certain no one else was in the vicinity, she inhaled a deep breath and knocked on the door.
A disheveled Zoisite opened the door. He was partially undressed, his jacket off and his white shirt unbuttoned, and his hair flowed loose over his shoulders in untamed curls. Unfocused bloodshot eyes blinked until he recognized who she was. "Oh, Princess Hermione… It's you."
"Um, is everything okay, Lord Zoisite?" she asked, finding his appearance and behavior alarming. "Did I get the time wrong?" He hadn't been entertaining somebody else before she arrived, had he?
"No, it's fine. You're right on time. And, please, call me Zach. I think we are beyond such formalities at this point." With a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he opened the door wider. "Please, come in."
Hermione entered the room, and after closing the door behind her, he greeted her with a kiss on her temple. "Would you like something to drink? I was about to pour myself a glass of wine before you knocked."
"Wine sounds lovely. Thank you, Lo—I mean, Zach."
Zoisite unstopped the decanter on top of a dresser and poured the red wine into two crystal goblets, handing one to Hermione. "This wine is considered one of Earth's finest, made from grapes that can only be grown in the vineyards of Elysion. Ridiculously expensive, of course, but well worth the price."
She took a sip, her eyes widening as the flavor coated her tongue. "Incredible! I've never tasted a wine so rich and complex."
"I'm glad you like it," he said, his smile looking more genuine than it had before. "I must confess I'm surprised you came, though."
She furrowed her brow. "You invited me."
"Yes, but I get the impression you are not the type of woman who usually jumps into bed with a man she just met."
He certainly got straight to the point, no beating around the bush.
"I'm not. This is my first time," she admitted, taking a larger drink from her glass before adding, "Ever."
The revelation that she was still a virgin rattled him, Zoisite almost choking on his wine. "Oh, I didn't realize."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, of course not," he said. "But are you certain you want me to take your virginity?"
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. "Unlike you Earthians, Mercurians place very little importance on the concept of virginity. Sex is simply a biological function intended for the main purpose of reproduction."
"Ah, so it is a child you want."
There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but Hermione shook her head. "I keep an accurate record of my cycles," she said. "According to my calculations, I am not due to ovulate for another eight days. There is only a small chance that conception would occur should we have sex tonight, accounting for random fluctuations in my fertile window."
He chuckled. "That is good to know, although I must admit, you and I would create a beautiful and intelligent child together." Taking her glass from her hands, Zoisite set it, along with his, on the nightstand before sitting down beside her on the bed. He cupped her head in between his hands, staring into her eyes. "You do understand that nothing will come of tonight?" he said in a soft voice, tracing his thumb across her bottom lip. "If you are holding out hope for some kind of relationship…"
No, a relationship was out of the question. Hermione had made her peace with that when she decided to accept his invitation to spend the night. "You were perfectly clear on that matter. I do not expect anything beyond one incredible night in your bed."
"Then I will do my best to meet your expectations."
Zoisite's hands moved down her neck to her shoulders. Slowly, he pulled down the sleeves of her silk robe until her arms were bare. Hermione shivered, unsure if it was due to nerves, a draft in the room, or a combination of both. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, a sigh escaping from her mouth. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the sensation of Zoisite's kisses against her skin as he made his way up to her ear, every nerve in her body on alert.
Hermione placed her own palm against his chest, slipping her hand underneath his unbuttoned shirt until she felt a heartbeat. To her surprise, his heart was pounding almost as much as hers. She continued to push the fabric off his shoulders, Zoisite kissing her as he pulled his arms the rest of the way out of the sleeves and tossed the shirt aside.
His mouth tasted strongly of alcohol. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but at the back of her mind, Hermione wondered how much he had imbibed, remembering his odd behavior when she first arrived. She pulled back, Zoisite giving her a confused look.
"Hermione, is something wrong? Do you want to stop?"
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"I may have had a glass or two before you arrived," he admitted with a shrug, Hermione reaching for her robe and standing back up. "Where are you going?"
"I'm sorry. I-I think it would be best if I left."
Zoisite rose back to his feet as well, reaching for her hand. "Wait. Don't go," he said. "Please."
She paused, turning her head back around. Her eyes met his, Hermione sensing a vulnerability in him that she had never seen before. "Lord Zoisite – Zach – did something happen?"
He released his grasp on her hand, glancing away. "No, it's nothing. Forgive me."
It wasn't nothing. Something was obviously bothering him.
"You should go," he said when Hermione made no move to leave. "I shouldn't have asked you to come in the first place. You deserve better than to be just another notch on my bedpost."
"Is... Is that all you've thought of me this whole time?" she asked, holding her robe against her chest. "As merely a sexual conquest?"
"Yes." He sat back down on the bed and reached for one of the glasses on the nightstand, taking a large sip. "From the very start, I've been deceiving you," he said, staring into the dark red liquid.
"I don't believe you." She didn't say it in an accusatory way. It was merely a statement of fact.
Zoisite darkly chuckled, taking another drink. "For one so intelligent, you are quite naive to the ways of the world, Your Highness." Hermione frowned at his switch back to formal address, but before she could refute his claim, he let out a weary sigh, setting the goblet back on the table and hanging his head. "I envy you that innocence."
He sounded so...defeated.
Hermione set her robe back down on the bed beside him, then hesitantly reached out a hand before pulling back at the last moment, bringing the hand to her chest instead. Maybe it would be best to return back to her room, as had been her original intention.
Yet, something compelled her to stay.
Hermione moved to stand in front of him, Zoisite's head still hanging low. She started to say his name, to encourage him to look up, but perhaps it was better that he didn't. Already her heart was pounding against her ribcage, her hands trembling against the silky fabric of her negligee. She clenched them into fists at her side, closing her eyes as she breathed in and out. Once her heartbeat had slowed to a slightly more normal rhythm, Hermione brought her hands to her shoulders, slipping her fingers underneath the straps of her nightgown and pulling them downwards.
She let out a soft gasp as the fabric fell away from her breasts. The chill in the air meant her nipples were already hard, her skin covered in gooseflesh. Ignoring the temptation to cover back up, she instead finished pulling her arms through the straps and pushed the negligee down past her hips, the gown dropping into a puddle at her feet.
It was only then that Zoisite raised up his head, his eyes widening in surprise as they roamed up her nude body. "Princess Hermione?" he breathed when he reached her face.
She smoothed down her hair with her hands, uncertain of what else she should be doing. The urge to cross her arms over her breasts, to shield his view of the patch of curly blue hair between her legs, was strong, yet Hermione resisted, licking her suddenly dry lips as she stepped forward and kicked the negligee aside.
She brought her hand to the side of Zoisite's face, lightly caressing his cheek. "I don't know what happened," she said, "but I don't think you should be alone tonight. If I can bring you some comfort –"
He turned his face away. "I deserve no comfort."
"Maybe not." After all, she knew nothing of the weight on his shoulders. "I'm offering it, anyway. I don't care if you initially approached me with impure motives. I know it wasn't all a lie."
"Hermione, stop –"
"It wasn't," she insisted. "I care about you, Zach. I know it is illogical, and I know I probably shouldn't feel this way about you, but I do." Smiling, Hermione reached for a loose curl, pushing it off his forehead as Zoisite once again looked up at her. "And I have a feeling you may feel the same way about me. Am I right?"
For a long moment, he didn't say or do anything, simply continued staring up at her face. It unnerved her, Hermione acutely aware of her nudity. Was her body not to his liking? She was perhaps not as curvaceous as Zenobia or as beautiful as Ishtar, yet she never had cause to believe she wasn't at least moderately attractive. She finally crossed her arms over her chest – as much to ward off the chill as to regain some sense of modesty – and turned her head to the side.
"Zach, please. If I truly have misjudged you, if you care nothing more for me than as a warm body to lie with, then –"
"No." His voice was strangely hoarse. Zoisite slowly rose back to his feet and cupped his hand underneath Hermione's chin, encouraging her to turn her face back toward him. When she did, the barest hint of a smile crossed his lips. "No," he repeated in a slightly louder voice. "You're not wrong. It wasn't all a lie."
And then he kissed her.
Softly, at first. His lips barely touched hers, brushing against her mouth in hesitant pecks. His hands wrapped around the sides of her neck as his kisses gradually became bolder, Hermione's mouth opening to allow him entrance. She involuntarily moaned as he slipped his tongue inside, a warmth beginning to spread through her body, chasing away the chill of the room.
Hermione's arms relaxed, her palms instead pressing against his pectoral muscles. He didn't have much chest hair, what little hair he did have light and fine in texture. She lightly circled one of his nipples with the pad of her thumb, then let her fingers roam further downward, tracing the outline of his well-defined abdomen. Zoisite's breath hitched at the back of his throat when she reached the waistline of his pants.
"Are you certain you still want to do this?" he asked.
Hermione didn't answer with words, unbuckling his belt and dropping it on the floor. There was already a noticeable bulge in the front of his pants, Zoisite letting out a shaky breath as she rubbed him through the woolen fabric.
"Lay down," he said after several firm strokes, gently pulling her hand away. "You must be cold. I'll rekindle the fire."
Hermione, following his request, took a seat on the neatly-made bed and scooted back until she was lying length-wise upon the mattress, her head resting against the goose down pillows. Feeling her heartbeat begin to race again as the realization of what she was about to do hit her, she drew in a couple of deep calming breaths and watched as Zoisite poked at the logs in the fireplace with the stoker. The scar on his shoulder once again caught her eye, Hermione's heart aching now that she knew the painful story behind it.
When he finished bringing the fire back to life, he returned the stoker to its proper place and turned to face the bed. "God, you are beautiful," he said, his eyes lingering over her nude body.
Hermione felt her skin go flush. "I want to see you, too."
The corner of Zoisite's mouth quirked into something of a smile. "As you wish, my lady."
He moved to the side of the bed, Hermione turning her head to watch him as he stripped off his pants. She had seen him naked before, but not in an aroused state. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, shamelessly staring.
Zoisite, once he had allowed her a good, long look, took a seat on the bed beside Hermione, placing his hands on either side of her head as he leaned over to kiss her once again. However, before he could, he let out a curse, sitting back up and gripping the bandage wrapped around his right arm.
Hermione gasped, sitting back up as well. "Are you okay?"
He hissed out a breath. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "I just put too much weight on this arm. That salve you gave me works so well that I almost forgot it was injured."
"Let me see." She reached for his arm, unwrapping the bandage against his protests.
"I said I was fi–"
"One of the stiches might have broken. I need to check."
But the stitches were fine, not a single one out of place. The cut appeared to be healing nicely. "Where are your supplies?" she asked, Zoisite jerking his head toward the nightstand. There was nothing on top besides the two glasses and a lamp, so she checked the drawer, locating the jar of ointment and some clean bandages. She dabbed some more of the salve around the wound, then rewrapped it, impulsively kissing the inside of his wrist when she finished.
Zoisite inhaled softly. "Do you do that with all your patients?" he asked.
She smiled. "Only the ones I really, really like."
After scooting over to the other side of the bed, Hermione patted the empty spot beside her. "Here, lay down on your back," she said. "It's probably best if you don't try to support yourself with that arm."
"I can manage," he said, though he still did as he was told, unprotesting when Hermione straddled his hips, leaning forward on her hands to kiss him.
"I said I was going to comfort you," she said, pressing her forehead against his, "so let me take care of you tonight."
DISCLAIMER: "Sailor Moon" doesn't belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hope you enjoyed! The final chapter will be posted tomorrow.
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