Chapter 10
The first day came to its quiet end, and yet I had not found the man.
What I did find most unwillingly and to my utter horror was something else entirely. Beneath the pale hush of moonlight, whilst searching near the treeline, I stumbled upon Sister Juliara and Sister Mirelle in… in a state most improper. I froze as my face burned with dreadful heat.
Never had I imagined that other servants of Ombrithar might fall as I have. Sister Juliara… perhaps, I could understand. But sweet Sister Mirelle? Oh Ombrithar, how far we have strayed.
Sister Mirelle stood pressed against a tree, her habit disgracefully lifted, while Sister Juliara moved her hand in a steady rhythm between her thighs. They were some distance away, and I could not quite see… but it seemed more than fingers. Perhaps even her entire hand, perhaps further still.
I slapped my palms to my cheeks, praying for the heat to subside. This is all Princess Yseldra's doing. Her wicked scrolls have corrupted my thoughts entirely.
And why, in every one of her tales, must the male part always be so impossibly large?
"Sister Naevia," Sister Alethea brushed my hands away from my face. "Whatever is the matter?" She held the lone candle close, its flame flickering as she examined me. "You said you were only stepping out to make rounds, and now you return looking like this."
This poor, innocent soul could not possibly grasp my struggles. I laid down and pulled the blanket over me.
Though, upon thinking it through, she was not entirely innocent. She was the first to corrupt me with that sinful illustration. That led to further ruin with Her Highness.
"First you forgo your bath, and now you truly mean to sleep in your habit? At the very least remove your coif and veil," she said, settling beside me. She had already bathed and changed into her nightgown.
"You are right… I shall go," I murmured. We had set aside one bathing place for women and girls, and another for men and boys.
And so I went.
Afterward I made my way back through the dark.
"Ngn… Brother Cassiel… faster…" came a woman's breathless voice.
I stopped.
"Your hole… being inside it feels so good… haa… Take off your habit," a man whispered in reply.
I covered my face in horror and walked quickly past.
I no longer believe the sacred temple of Lunovara was ever sacred at all. It seems sin blooms in every shadow.
I went to sleep with my hair still wet, too weary to lift a cloth to it. Sister Alethea was already asleep.
When morning came, I awoke with new resolve. I must find that man. The ring was not mine to keep, and I could not, in good conscience, withhold what rightfully belonged to him.
By midday, I was utterly spent. The sun was crueler than the day before, and I had wandered far too much beneath its weight.
At last, I found a shaded place beside a wide river. There, hidden by tall trees, I removed my coif and veil and ruffled my damp hair, letting the breeze pass through. I pulled a length of it over my shoulder and studied the strands. It reached all the way to my lower back now. Perhaps I ought to cut it. No one ever sees it, after all.
I let the hair slip from my hand and sighed, settling down upon a log not far from the water's edge. I remained there for a while, watching the river move gently before me, until-
"Ohhhh…"
My head turned at once.
Her Highness was approaching. She seated herself beside me most casually. I hastened to lift my coif, intending to set it right upon my head, but she snatched it from my hands in an instant, along with my veil resting in my lap.
"What a sight to behold… mmm," she purred, letting her gaze wander slowly over every inch of me as she bit her lower lip.
"You look as though I have already had my cock in every hole you own."
"Y-Your Highness… might I ask for my veil and coif… back?"
"Absolutely not," she said with a low chuckle. She carelessly dropped the cloths into her lap then leaned back with one hand braced behind her. Her other hand toyed idly with my hair.
"And tell me, why are you in such a heated state?"
"I had only walked a great deal…"
She slid her fingers deeper into my sweat-soaked hair then gave a pull. Her lips were upon mine and I melted against her. Our breaths mingled, my chest rose and fell with rapid urgency. Just as I thought she might release me, she kissed me again. And again. Her lips returned with mounting hunger, each time sending ripples of sinful delight through my body. My sex pulsed beneath my garments, shameful warmth gathering there, the moisture growing. Her skillful kisses drew forth whimpers I could no longer contain.
When at last she pulled away, a thin thread of our shared saliva still joined our lips. She leaned forward once more, and with maddening tenderness, she licked my lips clean.
"Have you fallen in love with me yet, Naevia?" she asked, smiling.
My heart fluttered terribly. "I… I am not certain. Truly, I do not know."
"Oh? Then tell me… do you dislike when I touch you?"
"N-no."
"Do our kisses please you?"
"Y-yes…"
"Is your little cunt wet right now because of me?"
"Your Highness!" I cried, tearing myself from her grasp. I stumbled a few paces back, my fingers twisting together in frantic shame. I could feel it… the warmth sliding slowly down my thighs. I wanted to weep.
In my panic, I stepped too far behind. My left foot met nothing but air. My heart lurched.
Her Highness lunged toward me and caught hold of my arm, pulling me forth with sudden force. Yet in that very instant, her foot slipped, and she tumbled headfirst into the river.
"Your Highness!" I shrieked, collapsing to my knees. I reached out in terror as her arms flailed upon the surface, thrashing wildly.
I forgot how to breathe. She did not know how to swim. She was sinking quickly, drawn beneath the current. And I could not swim either.
I leapt to my feet and turned away in terror. "Help! Help, please, someone help!" I cried with all the strength I could summon, praying her guards were close.
The royal guards rushed forward at once. Upon seeing her in the water, they did not hesitate. One of them cast me a most dreadful glare before plunging in with the others.
I collapsed to the ground, frightened by him. My vision blurred as a dreadful thought crept over me. What if… what if she were to loathe me? What if she looked at me with the same contempt as her guard?
Praise be to Ombrithar, they reached her. I watched from afar as she was pulled from the water and laid upon the ground. She coughed with such violence that my heart seized. Then to my astonishment, she made her way toward me, laughing. She dropped beside me and grinned as though it had all been a delightful mischief.
"Well, that was a most thrilling adventure," she said, entirely unbothered. "Do stop that dreadful expression. I am perfectly well."
Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned into her. My face pressed into the damp hollow of her neck. My arms found their way about her, drawing her close. Some unnameable feeling swelled within me. I held her tighter.
"Hm," she murmured against my ear, "perhaps I ought to reward that branch with a coin or two for such gallant timing." Her arms slipped around my waist. "Because you made the first move this time."
My cheeks warmed with shame and confusion. How could she speak so lightly? She had nearly died. And yet here she was, smiling and laughing.
"Your Highness."
We both turned. At once, I withdrew from her embrace and shrank back slightly with my shoulders folding inward. My body trembled without meaning to, and I brushed away the remnants of my tears. It was the guard who had looked upon me so harshly.
"Shall we escort you back, Your Highness? You may take ill in such wet clothes," he asked with a courteous tone.
Princess Yseldra's arms were still suspended mid-air from where she had held me. She slowly lowered them, her expression now filled with displeasure. "Could you not see a lovely creature embracing me?" she snapped. "You frightened her off, Sir Brenric."
Sir Brenric hesitated, then stood upright. "I beg your pardon. I did not mean to alarm her."
Her eyes shifted from him to me, then back again, and repeated it several times. "What did you do to her?"
"Nothing, Your Highness."
She turned fully to me. "Naevia, what did he do?"
I pressed my lips together.
"Speak. And do not lie to me."
What should I say? To remain silent would be discourteous, yet accusing a man of her household felt cruel.
"Naevia!" Her voice rose, and I flinched.
"H-he only glared at me," I stammered. "It startled me, that is all. He meant no harm. He was only concerned for you."
She turned sharply. "And what gives you the right to glare at my love interest?"
My face burned.
"Y-your Highness, she is mistaken."
She stepped forward. "Are you calling my love interest a liar?"
"Your Highness," I interjected, rising to my feet and taking hold of her arm with urgency. "If I may… might you allow the matter to rest?"
The matter was settled. She agreed to let it rest. Yet when a new day arrived and she returned, Sir Brenric was gone. In his place stood a different guard.
A heaviness pressed upon my heart.
I felt truly wretched. I had no knowledge of what befell him, and I was far too timid to ask. I whispered a quiet apology in my thoughts and prayed he had not been summoned to meet Ombrithar.
It was unkind of me, I know, but I could not suppress the small smile that touched my lips. She had been genuinely angry upon hearing what he had done. Angry on my behalf.
Perhaps… perhaps I might allow myself to try. This strange, bewildering bond between us.
---
"The witch drank the potion, and scarcely a minute passed before her clitoris swelled into a monstrous beast. It was fifteen inches long and thick as a butcher's forearm, hard and veined like a dragon's cock, fit to split a maiden in two.
Before her lay a bare and eager woman, legs thrown wide in filthy invitation, her sopping quim weeping with need.
'Yes, you foul sorceress,' the woman moaned, rutting her hips. 'Stuff that blazing rod in me! I want to feel it tear my cunt wide! Hurry, you wicked bitch! My hole is crying for cock!'
She twisted her nipples with both hands, pinching them cruelly as her greedy cunny edged closer to that obscenely thick prick."
"Y-Your Highness!" I cried, burying my burning face in the crook of her neck. Her laughter hummed against my cheek.
Laughter echoed faintly from outside, but within the hush of my tent, Princess Yseldra held an ancient scroll in her hands, her eyes sparkling as she read every vile word with such unholy delight.