Chapter 16
"Pardon?" Princess Yseldra's hands trembled faintly as she held her teacup.
We sat upon the porch of her town residence, the noonday sun casting soft light across the yard. I had spent the entire morning mustering the courage to bring an end to what we shared. But now, seated across from her, my words faltered.
There was sorrow in her eyes. A wounded softness. It hurt to witness.
I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to rise.
"I believe… I was mistaken," I said quietly. "I was led by desire, not true affection."
My father's words echoed in my mind, followed by Sister Alethea's reasoning.
"I think it is best that we part. What we shared was… fleeting. It is time I return my full devotion to Ombrithar. I beg your pardon for having led you on, and I ask humbly for your forgiveness."
"Fleeting?" she repeated, her voice cracking. My heart clenched in agony.
"Your Highness," I rose from my seat, for if I remained a moment longer, I feared the tears would fall beyond my control. "I ought not to have done any of this. I am a servant of Ombrithar. I have sinned deeply and must now seek sincere repentance. Thank you for receiving me so kindly today. And for all you did for Fun Camp… I shall carry your generosity in my heart always."
I tilted my head back and glanced at the sky, pretending to admire the weather. In truth, I simply could not bear to look at her.
"The day is fair," I murmured. "I hope you enjoy the breeze. Summer is nearing its end."
I inclined my head with all the decorum I could summon and turned to take my leave, but she rose abruptly and seized my wrist.
"F-fleeting?" Her voice quivered behind me.
My lips pressed together in anguish. I did not turn to face her.
"N-Naevia… you cannot mean this," she said, her breath unsteady. "You know it is false. You know there is love between us. It is mutual. You are lying."
I drew in a breath to steady my voice. "You know I do not speak falsehoods lightly."
"But you do lie. You have said it yourself. That sometimes a lie is kinder."
"This is not one of those times…"
"You are hurting me." The quiet sob that followed fractured something deep within my chest.
"Please… do not do this. I was gone but a week. What happened? What changed? Tell me what it is and I shall mend it."
I tried to step away, but her arms encircled me from behind. The desperation in her hold made my heart ache beyond reason.
"I am sorry if I caused you displeasure." Her voice was splintered by desperation. "But you cannot end it this way. I have something for you. Look-"
One of her arms released me with haste. When her hand returned, it trembled violently as she held out a ring. The band was an exquisite white, crowned with a diamond of the purest sheen. The design was delicate, lovely beyond words.
"I had this crafted for you," she said hurriedly. "I know full well we cannot be wed in any manner deemed official, but still, I had this ring made as a solemn promise of my love to you."
My heart cried out for her. How I longed to reach for that hand, to steady it with both of mine. How I desired for her to slip that ring upon my finger and bind me to her.
She reached for my left hand with her other, trembling just as fiercely, and guided the ring toward my ring finger.
But I struck the ring away and fled.
The moment I stepped into the carriage waiting beyond the gates, I collapsed into Sister Alethea's arms. My tears came in great waves, and I covered my mouth to stifle the sound. She held me close, saying nothing, and I was grateful for her silence.
---
Summer has passed. The air had grown colder, and soon all would be cloaked in black wool to guard against the chill. I had not seen Princess Yselddra since that day. I could only smile bitterly to myself when whispers in the temple claimed she had grown tired of me. That I had fallen from her favor.
I miss her, our kisses, her touch. I missed the way she would speak such shocking vulgarities, only to whisper words of love to me as I prepared to return to the temple, or as she readied herself to depart.
Foolishly, I still prayed she might visit. I harbored the childish hope that if she came to me rather than I to her, then perhaps my father would not be angry. For I would not be the one seeking her out.
The most pitiful part of all was this: I had grown accustomed to the largest dilator. I wore it for at least an hour each day. Because what if she came?
Noon today, my body craved Princess Yselddra with such ferocity I could scarce contain it. I wandered to the secluded lake and sat upon the bench, then stood, then sat again, repeating the motion like a soul in torment. My hands trembled in my lap, my heart a wild, unruly creature.
But nothing quelled the chaos within.
At last, I lifted my habit to my waist and removed my drawers, soaked through with the shameful wetness of desire. With trembling limbs, I sat down once more and opened my legs wide to the air, the lake before me a silent witness. My breath came in ragged little hitches as I beheld the sight of my own arousal. My sex glistened, wickedly drenched, my fluid trailing down to where the great instrument lay nestled deep within me.
I rose quickly, turning the bench to face the walkway. I sat again, spreading myself shamelessly to the open air. If any passerby happened upon me, they would see everything. The thought sent a wave of fear through me, and with it… more want. The thrill of possibly being seen only deepened the ache.
I reached behind me, gripped the base of the instrument, and pulled it partway out. Then, with a desperate thrust, I plunged it back inside.
My whole body shuddered at the sensation. A soft moan escaped my lips before I could catch it. In my mind, it was not the device, but Princess Yselddra herself, her thick length violating me, in and out, without mercy. Her golden eyes watching as I whimpered.
My hands trembled as I began to move the instrument faster. In, out. In, out. Each thrust sent a shiver through my thighs. My chest rose and fell, heavy and fast. I bit my lower lip to muffle the moans threatening to spill forth.
With my other hand, I pressed and circled that throbbing little bud that had become maddeningly sensitive. The sensation was exquisite. I rubbed, I traced, I flicked, and the pleasure bloomed ever higher.
Oh heavens... oh Ombrithar…
I slipped two fingers into my slit and thrust them quickly within, the motion turning my light blonde hair below into a mess. I thrust a few more times then quickly withdrew and turned my focus to my rear. The pleasure there had begun to rise above all else. I wished to reach my peak from that place behind. It was the part Princess Yseldra cherished most.
I could see it. My core, twitching. The walls of my body clenched around the instrument as if trying to keep it inside. My legs quivered in the air, my toes curled. I was so very close. Just a moment more.
Then I heard footsteps and a voice somewhere beyond the path.
The danger only heightened the need. I thrust faster, harder, trembling from the effort.
And then I came.
My entire form seized in pleasure. A violent release rippled through me, and I gasped as I behold streams upon streams of my desire bursting forth from me, spilling into the air, onto the earth.
The instrument slipped from me and fell silently into the grass, my whole body humming with what could only be described as divine ruin.
Though my release still pulsed forth beneath me, there was no time to linger. I snatched the fallen instrument and my discarded drawers, stumbling behind the shelter of a great oak.
"Let us sit here and rehearse a prayer," came a man's voice, soft and perilously near.
Terror and desire clashed in my chest like dueling winds. I swiftly raised my habit again and brushed away the blades of grass that clung to the tool. My cheeks burned, my pulse thundered. Pressing one trembling hand to the bark of the tree, I bent forward. In a motion fueled more by hunger than reason, I pushed the instrument back into my rear and began to thrust it rapidly, roughly.
My body spasmed once more. The shameful slick of my arousal continued to spill freely, trailing down my thighs onto my stockings.
At last, when nothing more could be spilled from me, I lodged the device firmly in place and tugged my drawers back up. I let the hem of my habit fall, covering the scene of my utter ruination.
"I believe I have sat upon a damp spot," he said.
I walked away, a bitter smile upon my lips. My body longed for her most wretchedly. My heart called for her with every passing breath. My vision grew blurred, and the ache within my chest stirred afresh.
I lingered outside a moment longer, allowing the breeze to dry my tears before making my way toward the dining hall. Luncheon was being served, and though my appetite was absent, I knew I must eat. My head had begun to feel light from both sorrow and hunger.
I stood in line, scarcely aware of my surroundings.
"Naevia, where were you?" Sister Alethea came beside me and took my left hand in hers.
I startled. That was the hand I had used to pleasure myself not long ago. My heart gave a sharp beat of guilt, and I swiftly withdrew it from her grasp.
"I had not washed yet," I said. "I was… cleaning." The lie sounded false even to my own ears.
To my relief, she asked nothing further.
"I am glad you have come to eat," she said gently. "You have missed breakfast more than once. And oftentimes luncheon as well. It worries me."
I offered her a small smile. "I am all right."
She leaned closer and whispered, "It will pass. If ever you need to cry, I shall be here."
At that, my throat tightened. My lips began to quiver. I felt the sting of fresh tears rising once more. It is always the kindness that undoes me. Especially when I am already broken within.