Marcus lay on his back, sinking into velvet pillows.
A blissful smile stretched his lips taut like a bowstring a little more, and it would tear the skin from ear to ear. The sensation inside was a dichotomy, tearing him apart.
On one hand exhaustion, deep and all-consuming, as if he, a single man, had been forced to plough a hundred thousand hectares of stony virgin soil with an old, rusty shovel. Every muscle ached; every tendon screamed from overexertion.
On the other a strange, almost weightless lightness in his soul. As if an invisible thread was about to lift his essence and carry it upward, leaving this tired body to burn out on the sheets.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on his companion. "Just think," flashed through his foggy mind, "I'm only now getting a proper look at her face."
And there was plenty to see. Large, blue eyes like lakes on a clear day. Porcelain skin, smooth and cool, with the faintest blush, as if someone had lightly touched a peach with a brush. The general elegance of her feature's fine eyebrows, a straight nose, full lips the color of ripe cherries. And her body... Ho-ho! Marcus mentally whistled. Such a bizarre, seductive "guitar-shaped composition" curves, convexities, flowing lines he hadn't encountered in the most expensive brothels or his wildest fantasies.
The girl was lazily tracing her fingertips over his sweaty torso, leaving goosebumps and light scratches on his skin. Her gaze, languid and appraising, slid over his face.
"So, did you like it?" she asked, a mischievous spark dancing in the corners of her lips.
"Are you kidding?" Marcus laughed hoarsely, feeling the smile threatening to split his cheeks again. "Of course, yes. It's just..." He hesitated, playing with a strand of her hair.
"What?" Wariness instantly replaced the languor in her voice. Her eyebrows rose slightly.
"What's your secret?" he exhaled. "Techniques? Special potions? Magical incense?"
"Hehe," she just laughed in response, the sound like the tinkling of tiny crystal bells. "You could say, a little of everything. But you missed the most important thing."
"What?"
"A shared love for the process itself," she said simply, smiling widely.
"Ha-ha! Listen to you!" Marcus shook his head. "Bet you wrung a ton of gold from Katarina for your... services?"
The girl just elegantly shrugged her bare shoulders. "Actually, no. She's just been a bit withdrawn lately, and I owed her a favor... so I decided to settle the debt this way."
"Did you offer yourself to her too?" Marcus couldn't resist, winking.
"Yes!" she replied with sudden offense in her voice, clenching her small fists. "But she refused! Went on about how she's looking for her true love... What a fool!" burst out of her with genuine indignation.
"Hehe..." Marcus snorted understandingly.
"Listen," she rolled closer, her breath touching his cheek. The smell of expensive perfume mixed with the scent of their bodies. "What about your new Impe..?"
"Ah, you mean, that one? Saigo? Him!" Marcus frowned. "He's at the palace now, probably."
"No, not that," she waved a hand. "Tell me, what's he like? In person?"
Marcus sighed. He certainly wasn't supposed to divulge details about members of the Cotto clan. But under the influence of this strange mix of absolute fatigue, residual bliss, and her hypnotic presence, he simply couldn't refuse.
His will had melted away like incense smoke.
"Well... how to put it," Marcus scratched his chin, feeling the stubble. "Externally... quite ordinary. A bit more handsome than average, maybe even somewhat pretty. Distinctive features his hair, white, ash-colored, as if dusted with frost. And his eyes... green. But not just green glowing. Like a cat's in the dark, only... more intense. His character..."
Marcus thought, choosing his words. "Aggressive. Lively, like a hound that's caught a scent, and damn loyal to the clan, to the marrow of his bones."
"Have you met?" the girl asked, propping her head on her hand, her blue eyes burning with curiosity.
She shook her head, and golden hair spilled over the pillow. "And I wouldn't really want a repeat performance."
"I heard he's the best blade of the Cotto clan. And... the husband of their leader's daughter?" Her voice held an unspoken question; she wanted details.
"Yep," Marcus whistled slightly, thinking about the kid's motivation. "He clearly... feels his own strength, and judging by her words, not without reason." He looked at her. "Are you acquainted with their leader?"
"A... little bit," she answered mysteriously, playing with the tip of his hair. "And not in the way you're thinking." Her lips formed a slight grimace. "He's... too rigid. And frightening."
Marcus whistled again, but to himself. "What kind of steel nerves do you need," he thought with genuine amazement, looking at her unearthly beauty, "to turn down something like this?"
BOOM!
A powerful vibration, low and thick, rolled through the very structure of the building. The walls shuddered; crystal trinkets on a shelf chimed a thin chorus. The smoke from the smoldering incense in a heavy censer suddenly swirled into a light vortex.
"What was that?!" Marcus instantly sat up, alertness in his eyes.
"Let me check..." The girl reached for the bedside table. From a drawer, she retrieved a small crystal orb, glowing dimly from within.
Concentrating, she ran a finger over its smooth surface. The murky smoke inside the orb began to swirl, dissipate, forming an image.
A couple of seconds later, the picture cleared, and the mouths of both lovers fell open in silent horror and amazement.
The Imperial Palace. Or rather, what was left of it.
It was burning. Not just ablaze it was a giant, raging torch tearing into the night sky. Towers collapsed like houses of cards, walls glowed white-hot, tongues of hellish flame burst from windows and breaches, staining the smoke clouds in blood-crimson tones.
"HOLY SHIT!" Marcus shook off the stupor like a blanket. In an instant, he leaped from the bed. Shirt, trousers everything was pulled on as he moved, his movements sharp, almost panicked.
No word of farewell, no backward glance he shot out of the room like a cannonball, slamming the door.
The girl, unhurriedly, sank back onto the pillows. She made herself comfortable, pulling the silk coverlet closer. Her eyes, full of languor just a second ago, now shone with a cold, calculating interest, fixed on the image in the crystal orb where the flame raged.
"Hmm..." sounded quietly in the room's silence. "Interesting... this Saigo guy." The corners of her lips touched by a light, predatory smile. "I should... meet him."
The prospect of poaching the best blade of the Cotto clan spread through her body in a pleasant wave, warming her more than any wine, intoxicating her more than any potion. The thought of acquiring such power, such untamed talent... it was an aphrodisiac for her ambitions.
"But that's for later..." she whispered, not taking her eyes off the burning palace in the orb. "For now... I'll watch." Her fingers gently stroked the edge of the crystal sphere. "To see if he's worthy... of my special attention." The flames of the distant fire reflected in her blue eyes, playing in them with cold, greedy sparks.