“Hrrk,” I gagged as the world snapped back into place around me and my stomach rushed back into its accustomed place. “Oh, god.” I bent over, trying to keep what little food I had eaten. “Oh god, that sucked so hard.”
“Sayuri doesn’t feel good,” the cat girl moaned, holding her belly before dropping to her knees. “Sayuri never wants to do that again.” I nodded in whole-hearted agreement as the worst of the nausea passed.
The room we found ourselves in made everything in the castle look positively palatial by comparison. The wooden walls, once rather elegant and distinguished I imagined, were warped, and bent. The wood was cracked, and the splashes of paint left was peeled off in long strips. Shafts of sunlight peeked through the cracked windows and tattered curtains as if afraid of what it would find once inside. I glanced up at the ceiling to find, predictably, most of it missing. All things considered, I decided, the sun was right to fear what it might find.
“Well, this is a…place,” I finished.
“Why is this familiar?” Sascha mused, stepping awkwardly away from the tattered curtain with a look of disgust.
“Welcome to Willow March,” Carrisyn wiped the back of her hand across her lips, blood smearing her skin as she did.
“Willow March?” Alarice whispered.
“That’s not possible,” Sascha shook her head. “Willow March was destroyed.”
“And your point is…?” I spread my arms wide to indicate the room we stood in. “Destroyed would be a step up from this shit hole.”
“Eliana and I moved it here before the flames could ruin it completely,” Carrisyn shrugged, righting herself after a long moment.
“Eliana?” Sascha’s eyes narrowed. “She’s still alive then?”
“Of course,” Carrisyn answered, helping Sayuri to her feet.
“Is she here?”
“Most likely not,” Carrisyn replied. “We have other things to worry about rather than her, though, don’t you think?”
“Ok, I’m just going to ask since no one else apparently cares enough to,” I interrupted. “How did you move an entire house in the middle of it getting destroyed?”
“Magic,” Carrisyn grinned at me infuriatingly.
“Of course,” I sighed, not expecting any actual answers. “Just saying, you either should have moved it earlier or just, you know, not done it at all, because this place needs to be condemned.”
“There’s something important to us in the basement,” Carrisyn replied. “But that’s for another time. We should give Prince Galen back his sword. Don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” Sascha nodded. “Let’s not keep brother dear waiting.”
The prince’s mansion hove into view as we rounded a bend in the hill, the sun hung low on the horizon and the intricate panes of glass shimmered and blazed in the light of the dying sun. The last time I’d seen it I’d ridden in a carriage dressed in a doll’s outfit. This time I was dirty, bloody, half my armor was missing, and my breasts could be seen clearly beneath the shredded cloth. Still, I thought, I much preferred going in on my own terms than on someone else’s. Though, I thought, if anyone gave me shit about the size of my boobs or the fact they were plainly visible I reckon I’d have to kill them and hide the body. I was in no mood to play nice after all that had happened.
“And what are you wanting?” The two guards outside the main gates sneered as we drew up in front. One of them glanced at me and snickered. My daggers leapt into my hands, and I took a step forward. Carrisyn put a restraining hand on my arm and shook her head.
“This is how you act?” Alarice stepped forward; her sky-blue eyes smoldering dangerously.
“C-Commander?” The men snapped awkwardly to attention, one nearly losing his weapon in the process.
“You are a disgrace to your uniform,” Alarice snapped angrily, stepping forward and slapping one of the guards across the face hard enough to send him spinning to the ground. “Report to the watch commander and let him know I’ll be dealing with you both personally once I’ve finished talking with my brother.”
“B-But we…” The guard still upright stammered impotently in the face of the Ranger Captain’s anger.
“Did I stutter, guard?” Alarice sneered, leaning forward. “Or do you have something you wish to say?”
“N-No, ma’am!” The guard replied quickly, saluting. He helped the other guard to his feet, and they scurried off as quickly as their feet would allow.
“Well done,” Sascha patted her sister on the back. Alarice shrugged and pushed open the doors.
“Just doing my part,” Alarice grinned.
“Hey!” I glanced around me in worry. “Where’s Lysabel?”
“Who?” Sascha grinned, winking at me conspiratorially.
“What’s that mean?” I asked as the rest of the group disappeared inside. “No, seriously! What’s that mean?” I followed them into the hall quickly.
The other guards quickly dispersed, fleeing the way we’d come as Alarice strode purposefully down the gilded hall, her fierce gaze giving them all the excuse they needed to make themselves scarce and we soon found ourselves standing in front of the vast double doors leading to the throne room. With a deep breath Alarice pushed the doors open. The throne was vacant, however, and the room silent. Alarice shook her head with a scowl and led the way past the throne and into one of the chambers behind the room. Though slightly smaller than the throne room, the baths were no less luxuriant.
You are reading story Reaver’s Song at novel35.com
Pools of water lay throughout the room, reflecting the golden light from lanterns hanging above them. Pale silver and sapphire curtains hung on the walls and intricate tiles the same color adorned the floors. The object of our search soon became visible as Prince Galen lounged in one of the central baths, a bevy of naked women tending to him obsequiously. Those poor girls had no idea what monster they were cuddling up with, I mused, scowling at the prince’s wide, malevolent face. As we emerged from the shadows of the door and stood before the bath, I caught the looks on several of their faces and amended my assessment. It seemed that more than a few knew exactly what beast they’d sidled up to but weren’t left much choice in the matter.
“Out!” Sascha ordered coldly, her voice taking on an icy edge I’d never heard before. The girls froze like bunnies before rushing out of the bath and toward the exits in the back of the room. I admired their backsides as they ran for a long moment before returning my gaze to his royal highness prince dillhole.
“I assume this is important, my dear sisters,” Galen chuckled, stretching his arms on the sides of the bath, and staring at us expectantly, his powerful chest rising out of the water slightly.
“You don’t seem surprised to see us,” Sascha returned the prince’s sneer in equal measure.
“Why should I be?” Galen asked. “I expected nothing less than absolute success and here you are. Though you look and…smell, a bit worse for wear.”
“Not all of us can spend our days lounging in floral-scented water,” Alarice snarled. Sascha held her hand up and Alarice lapsed into sullen silence.
“Still our sister’s dog?” Galen chuckled. Alarice’s knuckles whitened as they clutched her bow, but she remained quiet.
“We have a lot to do,” Sascha scowled. “Let’s just pretend to be pleasant for now, shall we?”
“I am ever pleasant,” Galen grinned like a viper. “I assume you’ve brought the blade with you.” It was not a question. Alarice handed Sascha a parcel carefully wrapped in leather.
“Of course,” She unwrapped the item and the glint of steel and gold flashed brilliantly through the room. Galen stood up quickly and rushed forward, his nudity making me marvel, once again, at how truly awkward the male anatomy was. It was like someone had glued an earthworm onto their groin. It amazed me how so much of the male ego and worth seemed to revolve around the awkward appendage hanging between their legs.
“This is it,” Galen’s eyes grew wide and hungry as he stepped forward, eyes fixed on the blade sitting placidly in Sascha’s hands. “My key to the throne.”
“’Your’ key, brother dear?” Sascha fixed him with a steely gaze. “Don’t you mean ‘our’ key? You wouldn’t be trying to renege on our agreement, would you?”
“Our bargain is still in effect,” Galen snapped irritably. He grabbed the blade from her hand and hefted it skyward, staring as the golden light glinted off the cold steel. “Though I do think you are forgetting your place, dear sister.”
“Is that so?” Sascha asked with a smirk. “And where is my ‘place’ exactly?”
“Wherever I tell you it is,” Galen stared at her coldly. “When I am king things will be different. You all have been extremely willful, and it will not be tolerated.”
“You’re over-stepping your bounds, brother dear,” Sascha warned him.
“Do you see this?” Galen gestured to the sword with his eyes. “Do you know what this is?”
“Beyond the obvious, I’m sure you’ll enlighten me,” Sascha replied evenly.
“This is the severing of my ‘bounds’ as you so eloquently put it,” Galen grinned, coming close to Sascha, and sneering at her. “I suggest you show the proper deference.”
“What ‘deference’ are you referring to?” Sascha glared at him.
“I am your new king,” Galen grinned at her. “Kneel before your king.”
“Not going to happen,” Sascha growled through gritted teeth.
“Was this what your talk of saving the kingdom really meant, Galen?” Alarice shouted. “Handing the kingdom from one despot to another?”
“Father really has been overly indulgent with both of you,” Galen turned his back to us, still staring at the sword. “You’ve both become full of yourselves.”
“How dare you talk to- “Alarice began. Galen whirled and struck her with a backhand. Unprepared for the blow Alarice flew sideways and crumpled to the ground.
“You’d strike your own sister?” Sascha trembled with fury as Galen leveled the blade at Sascha’s ample breasts.
“Kneel before your king,” he growled. “All of you will show me the respect I have earned.” The look of triumph and sadistic fury lingered on Galen’s face a moment longer before the point of a sword emerged from his chest. A second later a full 20 centimeters of blade erupted from his body, and he stared down dumbly at the crimson stained steel. I stared at him in rapt surprise, blinking in confusion.
“I guess we won’t need that anymore,” Carrisyn wove a quick spell and the blade in Galen’s hand seemed to break apart and shatter, revealing a useless chunk of wood.
“Wha?” Galen began to ask, his question fading into an agonized murmur as blood filled his mouth.
“This kingdom and everyone in it are not yours to play with,” A quiet voice seethed from behind him. His blue eyes grew wide as Lysabel appeared from behind him, throwing back her hood. His mouth moved to form words, but nothing came out except an agonized gurgle. Galen took one hesitant step forward before the strength in his legs gave out and he fell to his knees, trying to reach around impotently to remove the blade. “I am no longer your toy, nor is Esterwyn. Die here in your den of depravity like the dog you are.”
Lysabel’s foot struck out, catching Galen in the face, and pushing him backward. He collapsed onto the blade and let out a soundless scream before the sword ruptured his heart. His body stiffened; his fingers locked into claws. Magic roared through his stricken frame, erupting from where the blade had torn into him and rushing through him like cracks in stone. The prince’s blue eyes opened wide and then his body crumbled into ash, fluttering onto the silver and sapphire tiles like snowflakes. The sword hung in the air a moment longer before pitching over and falling to the ground with a metallic tinkle.
“Whoa!” I breathed. “Nasty!”