The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens) (35 page)

He growled low, startling her by the suddenness of it, and then he was pulling her into his arms, into a breathless, bruising kiss. There was a quiet violence to him, like he wanted to bury all of himself into her. His tongue snaked past her lips to taste her, thorough and demanding, and his teeth scraped at her lower lip. He ground himself against her bare form, the texture of his trousers against her thighs. Adelai kissed him back just as urgently, raising herself on tiptoes and pressing herself even closer so he could have better access to all of her.

It was only when one of his hands found her bare buttock without thinking, and her moan this time was one of pain rather than delight, did he seem to realize how rough he was being. He gentled the kiss and his touch lightened, his mouth moving away from hers so he could lower his head and kiss her neck, at the very spot where the king had shown his cruelty.

“Thornton.” But the captain ignored her, his lips traveling to the dark marks along her shoulders, giving them the same loving treatment. He moved down to her breasts, dropping down to one knee as his lips pressed against a sensitive nipple. His kisses were different - they weren’t kisses of passion, Adelai thought, her eyes filling with tears again, but for a different reason. He was demeaning himself for her, kneeling now and quietly asking for her forgiveness, helpless to do anything else for the moment but ease her pain.

His large hands encircled her waist as he moved lower, pressing butterfly kisses along the length of her stomach, at the faint bruising there. He turned her around, and Adelai gasped when she felt his mouth kiss her buttocks - not hard enough to hurt, and the feel of his lips there felt soothing.

He turned her again, and a sigh fell from her when he kissed her in her most intimate of places, fingers parting the soft curls so he could lap at her there for a few seconds, before straightening up again. “Go to the bed,” he said, hoarse.

She followed, and he made her lie on her stomach. She still wanted him inside her badly, despite it, wanting to erase the king’s touch with his own. But the captain showed no indication of taking her, only intent on finishing what he’d done when he’d been on his knees.

His tongue licked at her, from the swollen crest of her cunt to between her cheeks. Adelai gasped and tried to move, to tell him that he did not need to do this for her, but his harsh voice stopped her. “No, Adelai.” There was a queer desperation in his voice, like this was as much for him as it was for her. Overcome by the day’s events, Adelai didn’t have the strength left to argue.

His clever tongue coaxed her body into sweet pleasure, dipping into the apex between her thighs one moment, before sweeping up to ream her back hole. No one had ever done that to her before, and Adelai moaned at the sensation, at the new things he was making her feel.

Before, he would sometimes bring her to climax this way, though for the most part he was keen to let her linger over the edge before thrusting his cock inside of her, wanting to feel her climax around his cock instead of against his mouth. Now, he doubled the pace, and she knew he was intent on letting her cum this way, wanting her to reach her own pleasure without needing to find his own.

His tongue burrowed into her tightness, his hands sweeping over her back and buttocks, his caresses too gentle to hurt. She was pushing back against him without meaning to, aware of the rising tension inside her, wanting to experience that breathless rapture as his tongue drew her close, closer, so incredibly close. “Thornton,” she moaned, and he responded by licking her harder, doubling his pace as he focused on a spot underneath her hooded bud, tonguing it again, again, again, until she cried out, came wildly before him.

He moved away when the worst of her writhing had stopped, her clit too sensitive to withstand another round. She felt him place a chaste, tender kiss at the top of her head. “If he touches you again, in any way,” he whispered, “I will kill him where he stands.” He started to get out of the bed.

“No,” she implored, reaching out for him. She didn’t know how he was able to reach her room undetected, or that if he had been able to avoid detection at all. But the thought of him leaving frightened her, and she knew she did not want to be alone that night. “Please….”

He stopped, and moved out of view. Adelai closed her eyes in despair, until she heard him disrobing, and his warm, hard body slid next to her. “I’m here, Adelai,” Thornton said quietly, answering her unspoken question, and she relaxed against him, eyes falling shut again. It took her a little longer to fall asleep, to the sounds of Thornton beside her, murmuring soothing words against her ear, and for all that happened bad dreams did not disturb her that night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Rebellion

He was gone when she woke the following morning, but Adelai was expecting that. How he’d convinced the guards to leave their posts was puzzling, however. She opened her door and peered cautiously out, just to check again, and found two pairs of eyes glaring back at her. The guards here were different than the ones the day before, which meant they had not been on duty when she had stumbled back into the room that night. She retreated hastily with this knowledge. Her next step was to check her windows again, was pleased to find the handkerchief missing once more. Her buttocks still burned, and she gave up trying to sit.

The soldiers were being mobilized for an attack on the city, and the focal point of the assault was to be at the Watch barracks. Even locked in her rooms, Adelai could sense the tension in the air, from the hurried marches of men through the corridor outside, to what she could see from her window - the palace soldiers’ barracks a short distance away, where much activity seemed to be taking place. She was not allowed to walk the gardens that day, and she suspected that with things so quickly coming to a head King Garrant did not want to take any more chances. The king was busy with other

matters, and Adelai hoped he would not summon her back to his chambers that night. Not when the attack was to begin that day, to take up most of his attention.

She knew very little of what happened to Shannika, though from the king’s words it sounded like she had gotten away, and she felt relieved. She had already wept for Khalid, wept for the grief his death would undoubtedly be causing the Silvermaiden. She had neglected to ask Thornton about the fire that had broken out, and the servant who had brought in her meals that day would not provide an answer to the questions she asked, only shaking her head and looking frightened.

There was nothing else for Adelai to do but to wait for nightfall, and prayed to Inne-Anneah that this would soon be over, that the Wolf was as crafty as people said he was, that he would be able to defeat the king despite the odds.

She knew the attack would begin after midnight, and so was not prepared for the sudden sound of wood breaking that echoed through the room like a loud thunderclap. She started up, her hear pounding. It was barely time for supper, which meant the attack had began several hours earlier than expected. She ducked, falling to the ground with her hands clapped to her ears as another boom sounded, and then came the unmistakable sounds of fighting.

She ran for the door, opening it a crack so she could see what was going on. Many servants were running, panicked and screaming, and from the babble she could make out came the realization that the castle had come under heavy attack. The guards were still posted at her door, looking completely unmoved by everything that was going on. “We have to leave!” Adelai shouted at them, attempting to do so, but one of the guards blocked her way. “The king’s orders, milady,” he said gruffly.

He looked like he was willing to pick her up and throw her bodily back into the room if she did not comply, so Adelai was forced to comply, fear growing with every second. She thought about rushing past them and taking her chances, but she knew that would be too reckless. She didn’t know what was going on outside, and she would be in the thick of battle before even realizing it.

Adelai remained on her bed for the next hour or so, her eyes trained at the door in all that time, never knowing if one of the rebels would come rushing through the door, or if the king’s men would come and put an end to her. When the door finally swung open, Adelai tensed.

It was one of the guards, gesturing at her to follow. Feeling sick, Adelai allowed them to lead her out, wincing when they grabbed her arms roughly. The sounds of fighting were loud, like there was one happening at every corner they moved to. She didn’t see any soldiers, but through windows she was ushered past Adelai caught glimpses of people fighting outside, clouds of smoke sometimes marring her vision. She thought she heard fighting inside the palace, at the lower ground, but the guards made no move to lead her downstairs.

Instead, they led her to the king’s chambers, and she would have much rather taken her chances below than face what she knew would be Garrant’s wrath. She took a step back, trying to put that thought into action, but the guards sensed her intention. Their grip on her tightened, digging into her flesh. “No games, milady,” one of them barked.

The room was dark when they entered, and at first Adelai thought there was no one there. But a shadow moved, and she saw the king reclining on his chair, head leaning against a hand, elbow propped up against the armrest. Cold pale eyes studied her, and for once he was no longer smiling.

“Leave us,” he barked, rising from his chair and striding toward Adelai. The guards complied, retreating for the door. But Adelai turned and darted for the exit herself, hoping she was quick enough to make it past the guards before they could react. But the king must have sensed what she was planning to do, because he was on her in an instant, grabbing an arm and twisting it behind her. Adelai cried out in pain.

“I should have killed you while I had the chance,” he hissed, the instant the doors closed behind them. The pressure on her arm increased, and Adelai bit her lip. “You must be glad that your little scheme is about to succeed, little maiden. All of Arbentide is up in arms against me, perpetuated by my traitor of a general and that Silverwhore. I hope it was all worth it.”

Loud yelling erupted from somewhere outside the door, and was abruptly cut off with two hard thumps, like some thing hard had been thrown against the wall. The door was kicked open, wood flying in, and Thornton stood, breathing heavily. His face was cut and bleeding, dirty from soot and ash. “Let go of her, your Majesty.”

The king cackled, the laughter sounding insane to Adelai’s ears.

“And so the snake finally shows its true colors.” Something cold and sharp pressed against her neck. “I’d suspected that she’d bewitched you, Thornton, when you insisted on protecting her after those damn fools Sevrigne and Kazer got themselves arrested. Sevrigne should have finished her off, and he couldn’t even do something so simple as that. Are you so eager to get into her bed that you’re willing to betray your own king, Altfyre?”

“Please surrender peacefully, your Highness,” Thornton’s voice was strained. He was moving in a slow circle around the king, who was forced to turn and follow his movements, still keeping the knife against her throat. “I guarantee your safety if you do.”

“Safe?” King Garrant’s voice rose, a high-pitched giggle. “It’s too late, Captain. Too late to be safe, not when you’ve destroyed my kingdom.” The blade pressed harder against her neck, and Alai felt it nick lightly at her skin. “But before I leave, I’m going to enjoy watching as I take away at least one thing you hold dear.”

“You do not want to add harming a shrinemaiden to the list of charges against you, your Majesty.”

“A shrinemaiden? You still call this whore a shrinemaiden? I’ve done worse, Captain. I killed my own father,” the king was coming undone, the knife underneath her chin trembling. Adelai forced herself not to cry out at the slight pain. “That useless old man - useless, useless, useless! The kingdom is mine to play with! Mine!” Spittle flew from his lips. “You don’t think I see them watching? All the time, they watch; watching, watching.” He snickered, his madness now all the more apparent.

“Your Majesty - “

“
Your Majesty
,” the king mocked, “when it’s Belair who truly owns you, eh Thornton? What makes you think I won’t kill her when I killed my own old, senile father? Only the strong shall survive! I am strong! Say goodbye to your little whore, Thornton.”

“No, he won’t,” someone said from behind him.

The king turned, and Adelai took the opportunity to act. She moved, her hands coming up to block the knife against her throat. The blade cut deeply into her skin, and this time she did cry out, falling to her knees.

Almost at the same time, there was a heavy thunk. King Garrant fell, his eyes wide and clutching at an arrow now protruding from the center of his throat. He made a strange gurgling noise, and then let out one last, long sigh, before toppling down beside her.

Thornton was by her side within moments, his hands pressed against her neck, and she realized that he was trying to staunch the wound there. She also realized, dimly, that her hands were bloody from deep cuts in her palms where she had tried to deflect the dagger. But there seemed to be more blood than there should have been, blooming across her dress….

The captain of the guard was yelling something, but try as she might Adelai couldn’t understand the words. There was a loud ringing in her head, growing louder and louder, drowning out everything else in the room but the blood on her hands, and that sharp, throbbing around her neck….

She slipped down into darkness.

The first thing she remembered, when she swam back into consciousness, was the nagging, dull pain at her throat. She moaned softly, trying to open her eyes. Bright light assailed her vision, and she groaned again, eyes falling shut.

“Close the curtains,” someone commanded, and Adelai could feel the room grow darker despite her closed eyes. When she opened them again the room was shrouded in shadow, but she could make out the faces of people, gathered around the bed. Her relief was immediate when she saw Lady Maestre sitting beside her, worn and pale, her bright gray eyes glittering with unshed tears. Her cousin, General Falen, was at her side, looking concerned. It was such an unexpected expression on his face that Adelai frowned for a moment, wondering why he looked so different. Lady Wilchestrom was also on hand, but for once the vivacious woman was in tears, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.