Chapter 34
As Nerissea was famished, I could not in good conscience prepare anything that required long hours to stew. I settled on a simple beef soup, hearty and filled with fresh vegetables, most suited to a cold day. I placed the steaming bowl upon a silver tray beside a glass of cool water.
I was no master in the culinary arts, but I was decent. The royal cooks had most graciously offered their help, yet I declined. I wished for this meal to be mine in every regard, made solely by my hands and heart. Mercifully, they did not insist.
When I returned to her chamber, the three maids standing outside lowered themselves into respectful bows. I had instructed them to remain there while I attended to the kitchen.
One of them knocked upon the door.
"Lady Naevia?" came Nerissea's voice from within.
"Yes, it is I. I have brought your food. May I enter?"
"Of course."
I turned to the maids and said kindly, "Always remember, one must never enter a chamber unless the owner has first given consent."
They each inclined their heads in solemn understanding.
Satisfied, I stepped inside. Nerissea was slowly pushing herself upright against the headboard.
"Sister Alethea has always loved this dish. I believe you shall enjoy it just as dearly," I said, setting the tray upon her lap. "Are you able to eat on your own?"
"My hands are quite well," she replied, smiling.
"Do call for me should you need anything at all."
"Thank you, Naevia."
"You are most welcome. We are friends, after all."
I walked to the round table and took a seat. "Please come here, all of you," I called to the maids waiting near the door. They hurried toward me as I took my seat.
"If you would, turn toward the window and kneel. Clasp your hands and hold them to your chest. You must close your eyes as well."
They exchanged brief glances with one another but soon obeyed without protest. My own prayers seldom reached the heavens, but theirs will. Ombrithar would hear them. They were in need of forgiveness, and their hearts required softening. What they lacked was the blessing of our beloved Mother.
"Now, repeat after me," I said. "Oh Beloved Mother, I pray to You, please cleanse my wicked ways and light my path."
They repeated the words with dutiful care.
"Please, I pray You," I continued, "rain down holy water directly upon my person. And should any remain… please splash it upon Naevia Ashcroft."
One choked back a sound. Another cracked one eye open and glanced at me, visibly confused. The third repeated the prayer all the way through, but her voice faltered near the end.
A touch of guilt did stir within me for having borrowed their voice to serve my own purpose. But truly… I desired a little holy water too.
After thirty minutes in prayer, their knees began to tremble beneath them.
Oh, my dearest Mother…
They sought Her blessing, and yet they could not hold still. Such restlessness in the presence of sacred words was no show of reverence. It pained me to witness it.
My gaze drifted to Nerissea. She was watching me with a smile, her head resting against the headboard. The tray had been set aside. She had finished her meal.
"Please forgive me for my knees, O Divine Mother," I spoke, though my eyes remained on Nerissea. "I do not intend to be disrespectful. My body is but a fragile vessel, but my soul clings to You always."
One repeated faithfully, the others hesitated. They did not grasp the gravity of their condition.
Nerissea's smile widened, sweet and fond.
I bit my lower lip. She did not seem to understand the seriousness of it all. Had she known, she would not have smiled so.
Time passed. I continued the prayers, leading them. Now and then I would glance toward Nerissea, and always, always, she was watching me. Two hours slipped by before I understood why her gaze never faltered.
She wished to pray, too.
I hesitated. She was still unwell. And this session was not meant for her. It was meant for those who had done wrong. But she was blameless. One cannot ask forgiveness for sins one has not committed. To invite her would be a disservice.
And so, I turned my eyes from her.
At last, when the sun reached its peak and noon settled upon us, I spoke the final line.
"May Ombrithar light our paths."
"May Ombrithar light our paths," they echoed, voices weak, bodies trembling with the strain of kneeling for so long, sweat glistening on their foreheads.
---
"Your Majesty!" I beamed, breathless from the haste of my run. My heart thumped most fervently within my chest, for it had been many long days since I last laid eyes upon Queen Yseldra. She was seated at her grand desk, quill idle between her fingers, her gaze lifting toward me with that sinful glint I knew too well.
"Oh Naeviaaa," she purred, prolonging the syllables of my name with wicked delight. I nearly lost my footing. I adored it when she spoke thus. Her voice so deep and lazy, it rolled over my skin. I loved the way she looked at me, the way she teased, the way her presence alone made my knees unsteady.
"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied, stepping close.
"I find myself with another filthy itch."
She pushed her chair back from the desk and tossed the quill to the floor. Parting her legs with slow authority, she motioned for me to kneel between them.
I lowered myself eagerly, wondering what impure act she would have of me today.
She drew forth a small vial of some potion, popped the lid open, then brought it to my lips. "You shall taste this rare draught I have searched high and low to find for you…"
"Your Majesty," I said, my cheeks burning, "I love you." She was offering me something precious. How could I not feel grateful?
"Mhm," she hummed in acknowledgement.
She leaned in and tilted the vial. The liquid came in a sudden rush, hot and bitter beyond words. The taste was foul, dreadful in every way. My eyes flew wide in shock.
"Drink, you filthy little pet," she cooed with saccharine wickedness. "Swallow it all."
My stomach turned. I gagged, my body protesting as I tried to draw back. But she held me firm, her fingers nestled behind my skull, anchoring me there.
"Swallow," she whispered.
I obeyed as best I could, though my throat convulsed wretchedly. I swallowed and choked, my lashes fluttering shut as I fought against the revolt within me.
At last, when the vial had been drained, she leaned back with ease and cast the empty bottle aside. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stop it from coming back up, though I could not stop myself from gagging.
She looked at me with a dreamy little smile. "What a good fucking dog," she said sweetly. "Off you go," she added, waving her hand. "I have work to attend to, and since you just made me the happiest queen alive, I shall use this bliss to finish those damned documents."
I could not bring myself to smile. Yet still, I was grateful to have lightened her spirit.