My feet moved without me even wanting to, I just followed my feelings, and now I'm here, I was called again by something to be here, I know she's hiding something, maybe today is finally the day of that discovery.
Unlike what I saw before, your body is not positioned as if it were almost lying on the small altar made of finished candles where the candelabras have the sighs of past nights, or rather, of years.
I'm ready to run at any moment, my eyes are focused on the window, since every night that this room has its lock open, the moon reaches the tip of the sky and stays there for longer than normal, it's as if everything around it is sucked into that moment.
The hands firmly hold an object where I can see an almost blinding glow, even though I am in a darkness only impeded by small candles whose flames dance with the wind outside.
My mother is a little different than she was, her gaze is very distant even than normal, I feel that the woman who taught me what I love is no longer the same, or am I simply exaggerating, has she been taken over again by those voices?
It's not like they told me to kill my own mother, or tell my father everything, everything I saw, but is what I saw really true? But that's exactly why I'm here today, I want to find out once and for all if my mind has been plunged into madness, or if it wants me to know what's really going on around me.
Worse than that, could it be that I've been taken in by the words of those damned people who know nothing about me or my family? The small family consists of a merchant, a troubadour known throughout the courts of the north and south, and their daughter, a strange young woman who bathes in waters dyed red, who speaks her desolate poetry over the forest, a call to the devil.
I'm getting lost, I need to keep my writing focused on what's really important to me, what my eyes can see clearly, even in a storm, that's how I bring you diary to that.
The young woman kept her silhouette hidden in the middle of the dimly lit hallway, her hand tightly clutching her diary along with a white quill whose tip gleamed like metal. She tried her best to remain hidden as she described in her diary the actions of the woman in that small room.
The woman with long red hair recited words in a loud tone while her hands moved from top to bottom, she removed a small bottle from her dress and the liquid from it was dripped into her hands, even from a certain distance the young woman could smell it, it was made from the entrails of some animal.
also animal was the shape of the altar present there, on the ceiling a black curtain descended over a table composed of items such as candelabras and herbs, in its center a small circle of various symbols placed one on top of the other, giving rise to the image that resembled the face of a wolf, in the center a shiny metal item with a black extension and a shiny tip like silver.
The environment became different, the sound of footsteps was heard by the young woman who soon hid where the door met the wall, carelessly dropping her diary on the floor, making her mother turn her head and get up from in front of the altar, extinguishing the candles and covering it with a cloth.
She left the room wearing a long, thin black dress where the long, well-defined curves of her body could be seen, but more than that, a large scar on her back.
— What are you doing here at this time, Alice!
The young woman turned her body with difficulty, as a chill ran up her spine to the tips of her hair. When she turned, everything immediately vanished. In front of her stood a young man wearing an embroidered outfit, with a white skin tone, curly blond hair, and deep blue eyes. His shadow prevailed even in the dark environment, covering Alice's body.
—Don't scare me like that, Henry! I was in the middle of finding out the truth about everything!
Henry held a letter in his hands and put it in his pocket. After that, he reached out to Alice, grabbing her waist and lifting her off the ground quickly, but not roughly.
The young woman was wearing a shorter dress and bare feet, which left her free to walk along the path like a mouse after cheese, but she soon found the cat in front of her.
— Thinking about those things about Mrs. Agrippina again? Buying that book for you really fueled your imagination! I'll tell Mr. David to put you in a convent!
They both couldn't hold back their laughter, Alice's hand went straight to Henry's face, while her lips touched his, he then took his hand from her waist to her face where the messy strands of hair hid her face.
— I think if that's the case, I'm a little late. May I recall your pose? Just like this castle you're going to inherit from my father, David, the greediest merchant of all, that's why you carry this letter in your pocket.
Henry put his hand on his chin and looked around, took a deep breath and placed his hand on Alice's chin and lifted it.
— Nothing I have would not be mine without you, I am more yours than you are my possession. Since I used your satanic magic to possess my will and my body.
Soon the heat from the candelabras became insignificant compared to the flame that lit up in the corridor, in fact it had always been there, soon Henry took Alice to his room, amidst the ardent touches, his letter fell to the floor, at the end of the corridor eyes could be seen watching everything.
His face was placed on the thin warm skin, his eyes were directed to Alice's smile, their lips met, flexing in friction as Henry's mouth opened, his firm touch on her thigh brought the raising of one of her eyebrows, as he threw his weight against the bed, his face was covered by a pillow to try to silence his moans of pleasure.
He held Alice's calf firmly with one arm, the rest of his body stretched out diagonally, one free hand holding the bedcloth while the other used it to guide Henry's head movements.
The threads remained firm between Alice's fingers, just like horse harnesses, along with her traction, Alice as always used her own breath to move Henry's mouth over her skin, all the heat she exhaled was caught by Henry's lips, each breath of his was the moment where his pleasure expanded through every drop of blood in his body.
Her body then expressed itself, her hips rising above Henry's face, then she lowered herself, her hands reaching for her own neck. Unlike before, Henry's tongue had moved slowly over Alice's lower lips; now it had become rapid movements.
Alice felt a large tree emerge inside her, gradually expanding, she felt its branches reaching upwards and its roots deepening. Pleasure took over completely.
After feeling the pleasure become one with her, she got out of that position and took herself out of bed, going towards the wall of her room.
From then on, she denied any eye contact from Henry, she wanted to become nothing, to become an object of pleasure for Henry like he was.
Alice then forced her body against the wall, gasping, only stopping when she felt the heat of Henry's breath on her neck. The young man then clumsily opened Alice's mouth, plunged his fingers into her, after they were soaked with saliva, and subtly moved his hand over Alice's insides as if he wanted to touch her womb. The intensity was so great that it forced Alice against the wall, getting into the ideal position Henry wanted.
Their bodies moved as one, Alice felt that from the great flame of orgasm that Henry gave her, she managed to give him a small spark, but that it could become bigger and extinguish the flame itself.
All the anxieties that gripped Alice's body were erased by the torrent of passion. When she opened her eyes, Henry was sleeping beside her, and she ran her hand over his face. It was strange to her how the young man made all her worries disappear, but doubts still remained intact within her.
She quickly got up from her bed and tidied up the clothes scattered on the floor. She then noticed the letter was missing. Its contents could have been something simple, but she soon remembered that she had seen a royal seal on it, so she immediately started looking for it.
The young woman gave herself the difficult mission of crossing the sea of gigantic and dangerous waves, her room.
There was a huge amount of shelves there, on them like thin wooden slats, on them besides dust there was a handful of papers placed one on top of the other, right in front of the window where the sun could be seen rising soon, musical instruments.
Placed against the walls were everything from ropes to drums, one of which was placed most prominently above the low window, a red Rebecca, made of a wood only found in the easternmost regions of Europe, Alice's father's place of origin.
Her eyes traveled over every corner, then she advanced towards a small desk placed near her bed where Henry rested, she then took a cloth from a drawer and passed it over the instruments. Her hands still trembled, overcome by the warm sensations her lover had made her feel.
The passage of her fingers over the strings and how her nails dug into them and slowly descended reminded her of the movement of her hands over her body, the sound of the wood when touched by her hands reminded her of the sounds that filled her ears at night.
Before she realized she had completely lost focus on her quest, she placed the instruments on the wall, placed her hand on the wall for a moment, and felt the warmth of the sun. Then, she put her face against the window, and a smile broke out. Right then and there, she wanted to sing nonstop, but soon controlled herself and remembered something.
Alice was supposed to go to the village to get some vegetables and fruit from a farmer friend of her father's. She then took one last look at Henry. The solemn way he slept made him seem more delicate than any flower, but she knew that in their hands, he was the best cared for flower of all.
Her eyes passed over the bed and noticed that her wig was there, so she quickly opened a desk drawer looking for another one, soon finding a mirror, her reflection startled her.
She hadn't seen her real hair in over 5 years. It was neck-length and its tone was so light that it turned white. She quickly put away the mirror and grabbed a brown wig and put it on. Over her body, she put on a white dress. She would also go to church to pray.
Alice, with a smile on her face, picked up the shawm that was leaning against the side of the bookshelf, a long-billed flute that had a sound so similar to the song of a duck, she was eager to irritate with her poetry and sounds those who called her a witch.
She then calmly left the room and closed the door, placed the shawm on the floor and turned her eyes and body towards the room next to hers, the one with the altar.
His hands found her iron braid, his fingers forced themselves upon it, his mind was taken by a memory, the first recorded in his diary.
"That memory always hurt me, not because it was bad, or because it reminded me of the wound in my soul, but because I knew that after that my mother became a different person."
"The night was stormy, the branches of the trees resembled the claws of a great wolf that opened its prey in half, my father looked at me carefully, running his hand over my head and the other holding my hand."
"My mother knelt in front of a large black harp, her back exposed, giving me a vision of a black pulse, and on her fingers a shining silver-tipped object. Suddenly, my vision ended. When I opened my eyes, the silver-tipped object was stuck in my chest, but I felt nothing, no pain, only endless loneliness."
"A few days after the incident, Henry appeared at my house. He came alone, his shyness was clear. I was with my mother playing my lute, completely focused on the melody I was creating. But Henry's smile touched me and his shyness ended. Then the three of us went to the forest. I would play the song of my flute for the birds, which at that time was more shrill than a mandrake, but for Henry it was like the god Pan himself playing."
Alice, as she walked along the road made of a bit of stone, is limited by a bit of grass around her, had her mind taken over by the memories present in her diary, again she was immersed in her own mind, but when she placed the Charamela on her lips, her mind was guided to the right path, that of music.
The young woman caught the peasants' attention, their eyes focused on her white dress with blue embroidery, but they quickly turned away when her shawm began to play. All the peasants fled from her; the sound was so irritating that it made children cry. With the way clear, Alice hurled poetry into the wind with a smile on her face, making it clear that she was indeed a witch.
Soon Alice arrived at the small farm of her father's friend, a widower with two sons. The little girl came to hug the young girl, while the older boy, when Alice was careless, took the shawm from her and began to play it, everyone there laughed. After taking what was sent to her, the young girl left for the village church.
The moment her eyes saw the wide, sturdy wooden benches and the large crucifix in the center of the chapel, Alice walked quickly to the center of the room, knelt down, placed the shawm and the things she had picked up on the floor, and then began to pray using the mixture of languages taught to her by her mother, who came from the south, and her father, who came from the east.
This soon caught the attention of the women around him, who saw it in a mixed way, both as the language of angels and perhaps as a call to the devil.
But what Alice declared was nothing of the nature of good or evil, it was only to expiate the thoughts of men's minds, those which all men carry, as well as women too.
It was all a mix of testimony about how Henry made her complete and without anguish, as well as the presence of God before her, as well as the voices that sometimes took shape in front of her.
— If you continue like this, I think you will have to pay an extra fee for the renovation of the church!
The local priest, Gregório, a friend of her father, appeared before Alice. He was already an elderly man, and instead of wearing the usual priest's clothes, he wore a white overcoat; his body was robust and imposing. To Alice, this story about the priest was a misreading, but she knew his knowledge was genuine.
—Should I pay more tax because I use the holy temple more than others, or because of some papal bull?
Alice always had a bit of acidity in her sentences, no matter the moment, she simply treated the world as it treated her, in fact as she treated those she loved.
—none of those lines of reasoning. I say this because God gave more of his love to your father and to you, so you should share more with others.
Gregory was so wise that not even the cunning words of the young woman who devoured books in several languages in a few days could he fight against, he was like Jonah inside the fish.
"Is wealth the proof of love? If so, the dust on my books holds more tenderness in its heart than anyone else in this village. I was stoned for acting according to the conduct my father taught me out of respect for God."
The man was speechless, Alice made Gregor sigh, but this action made him remember something.
— Is Henry alright? He needs to be in good shape to deal with you, as elegant and venomous as a Venetian mirror.
Alice wouldn't be left behind so easily, she would finish the matter well and return home with her nose in the air.
— I agree. I'm also as acidic as a Sicilian wine, and as sweet as one, and besides, only the best can have the right to taste that, that's Henry. Goodbye.
The young woman reached into the bag she was carrying, giving Gregório a good amount of coins. The women present looked at her. She immediately realized what was going to happen, so she already created her route to get home in her mind.
Alice walked between the forest trees, her sturdy shoes didn't let her lose her balance as she walked, but her mind was taken over by the voices again.
Her vision became blurred, around her any shadow started to move and run towards her, in panic she started to run without paying much attention to where she was stepping, her feet fell over each other making her hit the ground.
— Are you okay, dear?
Her eyes almost shed a handful of tears for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure with David's touch.
In front of him was a man with a large beard, large green eyes, and a yellow circle on his clothing, marking him as different. His appearance was fragile, but that was all that could be seen by the naked eye.
Inside the castle, Henry was sitting in David's chair, in his hands was the letter with the royal seal delivered by Agrippina, the same one who was present in the room to help Henry organize some scattered documents.
—I apologize again for making you help me. I should have been prepared to do all this alone.
—Don't blame yourself or be shy. David only became the merchant he is thanks to the help of several people.
"One of them is definitely the royal family. Now they're asking for their support back. I don't even need to snoop through my master's things to know the contents of the letter."
—after so many wars and poor governance choices, the price for everything has begun to be paid. I feel most sorry for the innocent children involved in all this, at every level.
— The common people suffer from hunger and neglect, the nobles already have their necks on the swords of their own uncles.
— David knows this very well and will do anything to resolve it, even willingly giving away all his possessions.
"If there were more people like my master, the world would certainly be a better place. Speaking of which, I will urgently deliver this letter to him."
"No matter how hard I try, the voices are becoming more and more real. Before, they were only inside my head, but everything around me acts as if it has the influence of something. I only feel protected in Henry's arms."
"More important than that is that besides Henry's eyes that I can trust, there are those of my father, who always helped me move forward no matter what, I know that he let Henry stay by my side because he knows what's best for me."
Alice blushed in front of her father, who was the same for the period when he recited aloud what he read in his daughter's diary, his expression was one of genuine joy and Alice's of shame.
— So father could you tell me what happened that night.
— I wish it were something so simple, daughter. But forget it, because everything worked out after that.
— So my mother sacrificed herself in my place? Don't you think that's cruel? Why can't I carry my own pain?
—But where did I say you don't carry them? As I said, it's something much more complicated than it seems, I had forgotten, your payment for your first performance.
David then took a small black ring from a pocket in his clothes, with a 6-pointed star symbol in its center, and placed it on his daughter's finger.
The voices that darkened Alice's mind soon fell silent, everything around her became softer.
— That came from King Lucius, didn't it, he liked my performance that much? Isn't it because I'm the daughter of his greatest ally, who isn't blue-blooded or dark-natured?
David approached his daughter, closed the diary he was carrying and put it inside the bag Alice was carrying with her.
— You are the daughter of Agrippina, a Countess of Dia, of course your poetry is as beautiful as your mother's, as is your beauty, grace, and intelligence, daughter. You are more alike than you think.
As David embraced his daughter, Henry appeared, spoke about the fourth, and the three headed toward the dwelling above the village.
David then spoke about the content of the letter and what he was going to do next.
He must have an audience with the king, due to urgent matters and the growing crises in the kingdom, along with the rising of a revolt led by powerful figures who hate the king. David will be away for a few months, while Henry will attend to his duties, making short business trips and resupplying places. Agrippina and Alice will assist him in this.
A few weeks passed, and once again the flame within the couple took hold of them.
Their bodies maintained a small distance between them, just enough for their limbs to move in a way that complemented each other.
One of Alice's legs was raised while the other felt Henry's soft touch, his hand slid from top to bottom, his fingers closed on Alice's breasts, the palm of his hand took it a little down, his face moved to the young woman's, their cheeks met, Alice gathered strength throwing Henry's leg over herself, her hand ran towards Henry's groin, then her fingers gripped tightly, her elbow rested on the cloth.
The way the young man's eyes moved brought excitement to Alice, even though she was the one touching the young man's body, but even without using his great tenderness, Henry made Alice feel filled with pleasure.
A tingling sensation coursed through Alice's legs. She felt her hand quicken, but it wasn't as if she had applied more force to her fingers' grip, but rather that the liquid was gradually seeping out of Henry. The young man's face expressed an attempt to hold on to this moment forever.
Without much control anymore, Henry moved his hand before it rested on Alice's head to his groin, his fingers darting inside the young woman.
Her lips were wet; instinctively, he momentarily removed his fingers and brought them to her nose. In response, Alice laughed awkwardly, quickly closed her smile, and continued to slide her fingers in. For a second, she held Henry's balls firmly, then returned her attention to his member.
The young woman felt extreme pleasure at Henry's intimate touch, and instinctively crossed her legs over his arm. In response, the young man lifted his body, exhausted from pleasure, and brought his waist to be touched by Alice's hands, who was lying down.
Alice then let go of Henry's arm, realized that her hands were as wet as the floor after the rain, then brought her lips to Henry's member.
Henry started to move his hips, but then the young woman stopped and looked deep into his eyes, she pulled the young man's hand behind his head and made Henry use it to continue guiding the act.
The young woman realized that letting her inner flame burn while completely extinguishing the other's made pleasure course through her body intensely. Alice didn't let a single drop fall onto the sheets.