Her blue eyes fixated onto the stone griffon across the yard, Sybil took a deep breath, raising her hand. She felt the muscles of her body strain as the statue began to move, slowly levitating up in the air. She grit her teeth, her brow furrowing, and the muscles of her arm trembled. Then, the object fell onto the ground, the stone shattering into pieces.
"Damn!" Sybil cursed, frustrated. Her magic was strong enough to knock off a full grown man, but trying to lift an object heavier than that was far more difficult.
"So, how does the new fit feel like?" Petrus asked, stepping closer. He was a legate of Thélème, working for the Tee Fradee Congregation— But to Lady Sybil, he was her magic mentor, and a close family friend.
"It's not too bad," Sybil replied, looking down at the set of rings on her fingers. "A bit stiff, though."
"Hmm, I see," Petrus mused, a thoughtful look on his face. "Try not to exert yourself too much— Your magic is strong, but your body is still adapting to it. Try to avoid lifting things much heavier than your weight, if possible."
"Fine, fine." Sybil sighed, rolling her shoulder. "But, it's fine. I'll get used to it."
"Yes, I have no doubt in my mind about that. Just, be careful." He cautioned, a worried look on his face.
"But I've made good progress, don't you think?"
"Yes, your skills have improved greatly, and your magical energy is stronger than ever." Petrus replied, a proud smile on his lips.
"It's good that I got the new rings before we depart," Sybil smirked, lifting her hand. "I'll be able to defend myself, should the need arise."
"Indeed. But, that aside, I'm a bit worried about this little project of yours," He frowned, scratching his chin. "The situation with the natives is still very delicate, and the land is wild and dangerous."
"Yeah, Kurt said the same thing," She replied, crossing her arms. "But, the natives have been fairly friendly. I don't think we have anything to worry about."
"That is good, but there's more to it than that," Petrus' tone became solemn, a sad look on his face.
"A great tragedy plagued these lands, and it affected the natives and the colonists alike. I fear the wounds have not fully healed."
"You used to travel with Kurt, right? Accompanying De Sardet." She inquired, her brow raised.
"Yes, I did. I had the privilege to serve the Prince d'Orsay, and accompany his Highness De Sardet during his first assignment. It was a very... eye-opening experience." He explained, a wistful expression on his face. "Kurt is a very loyal man, and his fighting skills are unparalleled. I'm sure he'll keep you safe."
Sybil's gaze shifted to the other side of the yard, searching for a familiar figure. Kurt stood by the fence, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture stiff and formal. His expression was stern as always— Sybil had known him for a few years now, but his personality and demeanor had always baffled her. He was a serious and dutiful man, and it was hard to know what was going on in his head. Still, sometimes, when his guard was down, a gentle, genuine smile would form on his lips. A smile so tender, so beautiful, that Sybil couldn't help but be enamored by it.
She smiled to herself, recalling the events of the previous night. It had been the most fun she'd had in a while, and Kurt's company had made the evening even more enjoyable. She had seen a different side of him, and it had only intrigued her even more. In spite of their differences, she couldn't deny that they had developed a mutual fondness for one another, and, in fact, Sybil was quite attracted to him. Afterall, he was a handsome man, possessing a sharp mind, a sense of humor, and an unwavering sense of honor. Not that any of it mattered— They were worlds apart, and their relationship was strictly professional.
"Yes, he's very dedicated," Sybil murmured, her gaze lingering on the stoic soldier. Trying to shake off her thoughts, she turned to face Petrus again, a wry smile forming on her lips. "So, shall we continue the training? I still have some time left."
"Ah, of course." Petrus nodded. "Let us continue."
The rest of the morning was spent practicing Sybil's magic skills. She tried her best, but she wasn't accustomed to the new rings yet, and controlling her magic was more difficult than usual.
"Perhaps, we should stop here," Petrus suggested, glancing at her. "You should rest, and try to save your energy for the journey."
"No, just a little bit more..!" Sybil gritted her teeth, focusing on another stone statuette. She lifted her hand, but then a sharp pain shot through her arm, causing her to drop the object. She winced, dropping onto her knees.
"Are you alright?" Petrus kneeled next to her, a worried look on his face.
"Ah shit..!" Sybil groaned, bringing her hand up to her face. Seeing the redness on her fingertips, her suspicions were confirmed.
"What happened?" Kurt rushed to her side, his eyes widening as he saw the young woman clutching her bleeding nose.
"It's nothing," She mumbled, her voice muffled. "I got careless. It happens sometimes."
"Oh, Lady Sybil, you've overexerted yourself again." Petrus sighed, shaking his head. "You really should be more careful."
"I know, I know." Sybil grumbled, her brow knitting together. She pulled her hand away, wiping the blood with the back of her hand.
"Ugh," Kurt grimaced, his lips twisting into a scowl. "Why are you so reckless? You should know better than to push yourself like this."
"Hey, you can't blame me. These new rings are just too much." Sybil argued, her cheeks puffed out in indignation.
"That's no excuse," Kurt frowned, his expression stern. "You have to be careful, and know when to draw the line."
"Well, I'll be more careful from now on." Sybil rolled her eyes, sighing. "You worry too much."
"Maybe you're not worried enough." Kurt retorted. "Here," He reached out his hand, helping her up. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"Fine." Sybil muttered, averting her gaze. She was annoyed at him, but also slightly embarrassed. "Thanks for today, Petrus."
"Of course, m'lady." Petrus smiled, nodding his head. "We'll continue once you return."
"Good." Sybil gave him a thumbs-up, and started walking towards the main house.
Kurt led her into the house and towards her room. As they approached the door, the two servants that had been chatting outside hurriedly dispersed.
"What a pair of busybodies," Sybil huffed, shaking her head.
"Indeed," Kurt murmured, opening the door. "They seem to like talking about you."
"Yeah, it's kind of annoying," She sighed as she stepped into the room. Once inside, she glanced over her shoulder, giving a sidelong look at the man in the doorway. "So? Please, come in."
"Huh?" Kurt blinked, confused.
"What are you waiting for?" Sybil tilted her head, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Come in."
"Uh, I..." He stammered, taken aback. This was Lady Sybil's private room, and it was the first time he'd been allowed inside. The idea made him somewhat nervous, but he couldn't help but to be curious to see what the inside looked like.
"Oh, please," She snorted, rolling her eyes. "What are you so afraid of? I'm not going to eat you."
"It's not proper, m'lady." Kurt hesitated, his eyes darting between her and the hallway. It would be improper for a man like him to step foot in the young lady's room. "I should-"
"It's not like we're going to do anything bad— Don't be such a prude, Kurt." Sybil teased, chuckling.
"You really shouldn't speak like that, m'lady," Kurt reprimanded her, his brow creasing. "Your father would scold you for that."
"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, are you coming in or not?"
"Alright, fine." He conceded, a sheepish look on his face as he reluctantly stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "But, I'll have you know, I'm doing this against my better judgment."
Her room was very large and spacious, and the furnishings were luxurious. The curtains were drawn, and the sunbeams that shone through the windows illuminated the room. It was a bright, welcoming space, and the atmosphere was warm and cozy.
"Oh, please," She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We're alone. It's not like anyone's gonna see us."
Her words only made him feel more awkward. It was true, no one was going to see them, but the mere thought of being alone with her, in her room— improper as it was—, made his stomach flutter. But, then again, his orders had been clear: to ensure the safety and comfort of Lady Sybil. And, right now, she was injured.
"Just, give me a moment." Sybil murmured as she sat down in front of a vanity table, her gaze focused on her reflection. Her eyes narrowed, and she scrunched her nose in distaste, staring at her bloodied face. She took a small towel, wet it in a washbasin and brought it to her face, pressing it to her nose.
"You should be more careful," Kurt chided, taking a step closer. "You've been overdoing it again, haven't you?"
"Oh, come on," She huffed, rolling her eyes. "It's just a bloody nose."
"Still, you shouldn't push yourself like this."
"It's not as if I did it on purpose," Sybil grumbled, her brows furrowing. "It just happened."
"Yeah, but, it keeps happening," Kurt sighed, a tired expression on his face. "If this keeps up, it'll cause trouble later."
"I know, I know. You're right." She relented, a sheepish look on her face. "So, is everything prepared for our departure?" She asked, trying to change the subject, her tone nonchalant.
"Yes, and we'll depart tomorrow, early in the morning," Kurt replied. "You should get plenty of rest tonight, m'lady."
"Yeah, sure," She shrugged, taking a closer look in the mirror to see if the bleeding had stopped. "It's been a while since I've been on the road, but I'm looking forward to it."
"Indeed. But, this is no pleasure trip. It's a business trip, a diplomatic mission," Kurt cautioned. "Don't forget that."
"Oh, I know. But, still," Sybil sighed as she put the cloth away. Glancing down, she saw droplets of red on the front of her white shirt. "It's an opportunity. I'm excited to see more of the island." She said, standing up.
"It's a very dangerous place. You should be wary, and always alert for any..." His words trailed off when he watched Sybil take off her coat, throwing it onto the back rest of the chair. "For any trouble." He cleared his throat.
"Yes, yes. I get it." Sybil groaned, her fingers already working on the buttons of her shirt as she made her way to the other side of the room.
"I-" Kurt's eyes widened when he realized what she was doing, his heart leaping into his throat. "M'lady, you shouldn't..." His words were barely audible, and Sybil couldn't hear his protest.
"But I have you there with me, so everything is going to be fine," The shirt fell from Sybil's shoulders just a mere second before she disappeared behind a changing screen, and Kurt caught a glimpse of the smooth skin of her back. "You've traveled all across Teer Fradee in the past, meaning you have plenty of experience of a journey such as this one." She said, her voice coming from the other side.
"Y-yes," Kurt stammered, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat. "But, you're..." When Sybil threw her bloodied shirt on top of the screen, the fact that she was undressing behind it was becoming more and more apparent. This wasn't the place for him, he knew that. He shouldn't be here.
"I'll have you watching my back, and I'll watch yours, so we'll be just fine," Sybil's cheerful tone made him even more embarrassed. "Besides, I've heard the natives are fairly friendly. We don't have anything to worry about." She stated, the sound of rustling fabric filling the air.
"I... I guess." Kurt swallowed, his face heating up.
"And Petrus told me- Ugh, damn it... Could you hand me the blue dress from the wardrobe, please?" Sybil asked, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Oh, um..." Kurt hesitated, his eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just... get one of the servants, or-"
"Come on, don't be shy. Just take it out and bring it to me."
"Uh... Alright." Kurt's heart thundered in his chest as he approached the wardrobe, his palms sweaty. He felt like an intruder, an unwelcome guest. He was her bodyguard, not a personal valet. Still, he found it strange that she was asking him for help with something so trivial. It was unusual, but he didn't question it.
The inside of the wardrobe was filled with clothes, shoes and accessories, and the wide variety of choices made Kurt realize just how many different outfits Lady Sybil possessed. Thankfully, it didn't take long to find the requested garment— The blue dress was hanging right in front, and Kurt quickly grabbed it, turning around to hand it over to her. As Kurt reached over the screen to give her the dress, he could see a quick glimpse of the top half of her naked body through the gap between the screen. Her fingers brushed against his, and in that brief moment, a rush of heat coursed through his veins, his stomach doing a flip. He quickly pulled away, his face flushing as he immediately averted his gaze.
"Thanks!" Sybil chirped, pulling her arm back.
"No problem." Kurt mumbled, straightening his back. He was glad that Sybil seemed to trust him enough to have him in the same room with her while she was in such a state of undress, but it was improper. Not that he would do anything untoward, of course, but others might have misinterpreted the situation. He was here to protect her, not to ogle at her body.
"So, what was I saying… Ah, I've heard you accompanied De Sardet a few times in the past." Sybil pointed out.
"I have, m'lady," Kurt agreed, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat. "He is quite a capable young man. He is a very skilled fighter, and a quick thinker."
As he turned to close the wardrobe, his eyes lingered on the dozens of dresses, shirts, coats and trousers that filled the inside of the piece of furniture. Some of the dresses looked so delicate, and he couldn't prevent himself from touching the soft, silky fabric. He could easily imagine Lady Sybil wearing them, her figure perfectly accentuated by the fine fabrics. She had a beautiful body, with curves in all the right places. It was the type of body that made his hands twitch with the desire to touch. He had often found himself staring at her, but had tried to resist the temptation. After all, it was a foolish thing to do. But now, the temptation was becoming increasingly harder to ignore.
"Yeah, I heard that, too," Sybil replied, the sound of rustling fabric coming from the other side. "He's a good diplomat, and the natives seem to respect him."
"Y-yes, that is true. He has a natural gift, a talent for speaking and negotiating." Kurt agreed, nodding his head. Letting the soft fabric slip from his fingers, he finally closed the wardrobe, turning around just in time to see Lady Sybil step out from behind the changing screen.
The sight of her left him breathless. The blue dress hugged her body perfectly, the neckline showing just enough to tease him, and the hem grazing the floor. Her skin was as pale as ivory, her curves supple. Kurt gulped, his pulse racing, his stomach in knots. His mind went blank, and his blood rushed south, his body reacting to the tantalizing sight. His hands curled into fists, and his jaw clenched. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, his skin prickling, his cheeks reddening.
"I heard he had a bit of a rebellious streak when he was younger, as well." Sybil stated, unaware of the fact that she was being ogled.
"I..." Kurt stammered, his eyes glued to her. "I guess so, yeah." His mouth had gone dry, and his breathing had become ragged. His thoughts were clouded, his mind a jumbled mess. It was as if a haze had fallen over his senses, muffling all sound and blurring his vision.
"Kurt?" Sybil called out, a worried look on her face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm..." Kurt gulped, swallowing thickly. He was trying to collect his thoughts, to regain his composure. But, he was finding it hard to do so. "Yes. I'm fine." He managed to say, his voice strained.
"Alright, if you say so." Sybil murmured, not fully convinced. Grabbing a dressing gown, she covered herself with it, much to Kurt's disappointment. "Uhm... Kurt?"
"Hm?" Kurt blinked, trying to regain his composure.
"I just want you to know that I appreciate your work. I know that I've been a bit hard on you, and I can be a bit headstrong… but you've always been fair and treated me well," Sybil explained, a warm expression on her face. "You're a good man, Kurt."
"Ah, uhm..." Kurt muttered, not sure what to say. He wasn't used to hearing praise, and he certainly wasn't used to receiving such a heartfelt compliment. It was quite the pleasant surprise. "Thank you, m'lady." He murmured, his eyes cast downward.
"I'm sure that I haven't made things easy for you. I know that I'm not the easiest person to work with," Sybil sighed, her brow creasing. "I'm sorry for causing you trouble."
"No, no. It's not like that." Kurt shook his head, taken aback by her words. "I've worked with you for a long time, m'lady. I've seen how hard you've worked. You're not a child anymore, and you're certainly not the same spoiled brat that you used to be. And, despite the occasional hiccup, I have always respected you."
"Really?" Sybil gasped, her eyes widening, her brows shooting up. "But, I-"
"Yes, really." Kurt nodded, his eyes locking with hers.
Sybil stared at him for a moment, her gaze lingering on his. Her cheeks turned rosy, her lips parting, her breath hitching. The atmosphere had changed, and the air seemed to crackle with energy. There was electricity in the air, a palpable tension. The two stood there, silent, their eyes locked, their hearts racing.
"Well, I should go." Kurt said, breaking the silence. "You should get some rest. You need to get plenty of sleep tonight."
"Oh, yeah." Sybil murmured, nodding her head, a somewhat dazed look on her face.
"And, if you don't mind, I'd like to check the preparations one more time, to make sure everything is ready." Kurt suggested, eager to leave.
"Sure. Do as you please." Sybil acquiesced.
"Good. Goodnight, m'lady." With that, he gave a slight bow and left the room, his heart thumping in his chest.
As Kurt left the room, he found himself thinking of the way Sybil had looked in that blue dress. The thought made him shiver, his body tingling with anticipation. It was a dangerous train of thought, one that he had been fighting for the past year. He was supposed to keep her safe, to protect her, not to lust after her. He was a fool for thinking such things. And, yet, he couldn't stop.
His feet carried himself straight to his quarters. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, his back pressed against the wood. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about Sybil, about her body, her curves. Her smooth, pale skin, her delicate fingers, her slender legs. She was so beautiful, and the mere thought of her was enough to set his blood aflame. It was wrong for him to have such lewd thoughts, but he couldn't help it.
His breathing heavy and his chest heaving, Kurt began unbuckling his belt, his fingers fumbling with the leather straps. A soft moan escaped his lips as he freed his throbbing erection, the sensation of the cool air brushing against the heated flesh making his head spin. Grabbing the base of his shaft, he wrapped his fingers around it, slowly stroking it.
A groan slipped past his lips as his thumb swiped across the sensitive tip, smearing precum all over the flushed, swollen flesh. The pressure in his lower abdomen was building, his hips jerking and bucking, his cock twitching in his palm. His breathing grew ragged and labored, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he tightened his grip, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate.
He wanted her, needed her. He wanted to be inside her, to feel her body pressed against his. He wanted to feel her soft, warm lips on his, her tongue teasing his. He wanted to taste her, to run his tongue across her smooth, velvety skin, to bury his face in the crook of her neck, to inhale her scent. But, he couldn't. No, he couldn't. He shouldn't. She was his mistress, and he was her guard. She was his responsibility, his charge, and it was his duty to protect her, to keep her safe.
And yet, here he was, fantasizing about her, masturbating to the mere thought of her. He was a disgusting old pervert, a filthy, pathetic degenerate. He was sick, twisted, depraved. He wanted to fuck her, to claim her, to fill her, to mark her as his. He wanted to ravish her, to defile her, to ruin her. He wanted her, wanted to taste her, to pleasure her. He wanted to feel her soft skin, her plump, juicy breasts, her smooth thighs. He wanted to feel her quiver and shudder beneath him, to watch her writhe and moan and whimper. He wanted to make her scream his name, wanted to make her cum over and over again. He wanted her, wanted her so badly it hurt.
He couldn't have her, he knew that. And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop wanting her. It was driving him mad. He was obsessed, addicted, and he knew he had to do something about it. He had to stop thinking about her, to stop lusting after her. But, he couldn't.
"Lady Sybil..." He breathed, his mind filling with images of her. His movements growing frantic, he pumped his cock, his grip tightening as he stroked himself, the pressure building. "Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He cursed, his voice low and husky. His knees grew weak, his legs trembling, his body shivering. His cock twitched in his palm, his balls tightening, his breathing labored. His whole body was burning, his blood boiling, his muscles tensing. His hips jerked and bucked, his head thrown back, his teeth gritting.
"Sybil, oh, fuck..." His eyes squeezed shut, his lips parted, a soft, breathless moan escaping him. His hips jerked, his body tensing. With a gasp, he came, his seed spilling over his fingers, his body shaking.
Exhaling heavily, he slumped against the door, his breathing ragged, his chest heaving. The heat was quickly replaced by shame and guilt. How could he think of her in such a way? How could he be so disgusting, so perverted?
"Shit..." He cursed, running a hand through his hair. What was wrong with him? They were to depart early tomorrow morning, and he had to focus. It was going to be a long journey, and he would have to be at his best. He would have to be focused, alert, prepared. He had to put aside his own feelings, his own desires. He had to be a professional. He couldn't afford any distractions, any mistakes. He couldn't let his guard down. Not even for a second.
Sighing, he pushed himself off the door and walked towards the washbasin. Cleaning himself, he put his clothes back on, trying to forget what had just transpired. Trying to forget about Sybil, about the desire he felt for her, about the longing that burned inside him. He would have to fight the urge, the temptation. He would have to resist, to remain disciplined, controlled.
"Damn it..." He muttered, cursing himself for his weakness. For his lust, his shameful fantasies. He couldn't afford to let his thoughts wander in such a direction— But, then again, it's not like he had ever been known for his self-control.
Now all he could do was to do his best to keep her safe, and keep his dangerous thoughts at bay.