Daemon & Sunny Ch. 07

"You knew...you knew all along what we were looking for?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Edouard. I figured it out early enough. And I knew you were hoping to either take it over yourself, or sell it to the highest bidder. That's what most people want out of it. But it's currently beyond our control, and you're just going to have to accept that fact."

"Currently beyond 'our' control?" he asked her. "You'd want it for yourself?"

"I used to have ambitions of being Imperial Historian," Sunny admitted freely enough. "And I'll admit that, when I was a little girl, I used to pretend I was the Empress, as billions of little girls tend to do. But now, I have serious influence with the sovereign of Astorra—influence without needing to actually do any of the tedious ruling itself. I like the position I'm in right now. Why should I aim for something too improbable, and far too complicated to achieve?" It was a rhetorical question, of course. She shrugged eloquently. "Why should I grasp at something blatant, when subtlety is far more powerful? Subtle poweris far more overlooked, and thus unchallenged, and unquestioned. But I'll tell you what: I don't hold any ill-will over your subterfuge during the dig. I won't hold a grudge over your not telling me what we were looking for, and not offering to cut me in on the deal.

"You can go free in two weeks, once I'm done overseeing some delicate negotiations," she added with a negligent shrug. "I don't need you stirring things up and causing me trouble with such silly, unsubstantiated rumors before His Majesty is done selecting a bride.

"Take him to a safehouse and hold him there for two weeks," she reminded the guardsmen. "I don't think he was a willing accomplice, but there might be more than the ones your security sweep is hunting, and I don't want them contacting him right now."

"Yes, Consort."

"As for these rumors about the Matrix...if it hasn't shown up in over forty years, Saunders, then it's quite clear to me that the Matrix has its own reason for going into hiding," Sunny reminded him. "If so, there's nothing any of us can do about forcing it into the open before it's ready to be seen once again. The Matrix chooses, and no one knows who, or when, or why. Reflect on that, while you wait for your release."

A nod, and she strode away, her original quartet plus another four bodyguards escorting her down a side-corridor. Sunny resisted the urge to rub at the sweat on her forehead, though she did permit herself a sigh.Well,that was badly mangled. I don't even know if I convinced myself, let alone him. The problem, I think, was in trying to do it without technically lying, and I couldn't really manage that. I'm clearly not very good at truth-skirting improvisation...

Damn, I hope Daemon figures out what's going on with us and the Ouroboros soon. I hope we also complete the circle very soon, for that matter. I'm getting as nervous as ritual-paraders under a looming thundercloud, over the whole 'are we or aren't we protected by the Matrix, yet' question...

...

"Ambassador Crooks of the Imperium Regency has a Personage to present to Your Majesty," the Court Herald murmured in Daemon's ear. Nodding, Daemon waited as the man was formally announced. The man strolled up the aisle with years of trained grace, bowing at the midway point. Clad in the silvery-grey tabard of the Regent, with its intertwined white and black serpents forming a broken ring instead of the normal solid one, the Ambassador escorted a beautiful young woman, her brunette curls artfully arranged over her sleeveless, sideless, collar-clasped gown.

Made from a peach-colored, metallic-shimmering material, the fabric of the gown looked like it had been glued onto her skin, it clung that closely to her curves. Two years ago, she would have drawn Daemon's interest; now, all he could do was compare her to his Sunny, and sigh. He wondered if he could get a message to Armon to find out the girl's tailoring secrets; that dress would look spectacular on his Consort. A true pity Sunny was banned from attending the Formal Familial Ball. She would outshine them all.

"King Daemon, I wish to introduce to you the Regent's own granddaughter, né-Princess Irisia, who has come here on behalf of her grandfather to see the wonders and delights of Astorra."

And conveniently she comes in time to attend the Marriage Mart in five more days, Daemon sighed silently, even as he sat forward slightly and gave her a courteous head-bow. "Your Highness is welcomed to Astorra; may you enjoy our national delights on your own behalf, as well as your ancestor's."

"Your Majesty is most kind," she murmured smoothly, curtsying gracefully again. Daemon had to admit she did it better than Sunny did, but then the girl had probably been trained from birth for such niceties. His Sunny wasn't bad, but she was a Free Citizen, not a nobleborn. He pulled his attention back to the né-princess' next words. "I bring greetings of peace from His Regency, and wishes that your reign continues to prosper after such an auspicious beginning. I can only regret I was unable to attend your coronation; I heard it was magnificent."

Asteroid-kisser. He didn't think it with much rancor, however. There were always social-climbers, in direct proportion to the heights of society they infested. She was no doubt here, on dual behalf of herself and her grandfather, to try and secure blood-ties as well as political ties, by putting herself on display for the Marriage Mart Ball. Even if a new Emperor and Empress showed up overnight and took up the throne of the Pax Imperium by tomorrow morning, the current Regent no doubt wanted to have some sort of political ties to some sort of royalty, to remain powerful in the game of interstellar politics. Resigned to listen to her polite small-talk, Daemon glanced at the Ambassador, wondering what angle he would play in this matter, to push for the né-royal alliance, or to 'be against it' in the quest for reverse-psychology.

The man's tabard caught his attention. The broken Ouroboros was the traditional symbol of a Regency, while everyone was waiting for the Matrix to choose a new partner, for the Ouroboros to be complete once more. It had become a common sight over the last few decades...but not until now did the symbology strike Daemon, as surely as a laser between the eyes.

The White and the Black Dragons, intertwined, looping around together, jaws gaping as they reached for each other's tails...but not quite close enough to clasp them in their teeth.

Just like the last vision he'd had, while making love with Sunny after humbling himself before her.

A memory surfaced in his stunned mind. His suite, the night she'd been gifted to him. He'd clasped her hand as she'd dangled outside his window on that rope of torn silken sheets...and Something had filled him, the moment he had touched her. Something had chosen him, even as he'd claimed her. It felt as if someone had wiped away a heavy fog from the mirror-surface of his mind, revealing a truth that had been there all along, obscured and ignored until now.

I'm the Black Dragon...and Sunny is the White. We're... Somehow,we've been chosen by the Matrix. How could this have happened? he wondered as he bid his newest Marriage Mart guest a good day, and watched her back up gracefully the requisite number of steps before turning and retreating back down the carpeted aisle.Does Sunny know about this?

...How could she not? Images of all those datarods flooded his thoughts as his Court Herald summoned the next petitioner before him.She's researching everything about the Emperor and the Empress, and the Matrix between them, that she can get her hands on...but why hasn't she told me any of this? Why is she keeping it a secret from me?

Does she have some secret agenda?

Even as he thought it, Daemon discarded the idea. Sunny was a little too straightforward for secrecy of that sort. Or even for potential power-grabbing of a more overt nature. She could keep a secret, yes, but she wasn't the sort to plot that deviously. Still, there had to be a reason why she hadn't discussed this with him...

Unless...now it makes sense. She wouldn't dare say anything to me otherwise, not while I still stupidly thought of her as a lesser person, simply because she wasn't noble- or royal-born. I made a right asteroid of myself, insisting we weren't equals...and there she stood, Empress-elect of the Imperium, being insulted by a lowly king. He admitted with another sigh that she'd probably been very right, in holding back this information from him.If I'd known she was the Empress-elect...I wouldn't have had the opportunity to come to respect her for the woman that she is. I might've never respected her as simply Sunny Dannonee, Free Citizen. I would've respected her position as Empress, but not her. Now I see her as my equal. Now we can work together as a team—intertwined and whole, rather than one trying to be superior to the other. Two strands do not make a rope until they are twined together, both relying upon each other's strengths to compensate for their weaknesses. Equal, and all the stronger for it.

Damn, she's wise beyond her years. No wonder I love her. But...what are we going to do about it? If those visions are right, Daemon thought, paying only partial attention to the corporation president outlining some function he was inviting his sovereign to attend, we'll soon be intertwined in the full, tail-biting Ouroboros. We'll be the new Emperor and Empress...but how will we announce that to everyone?When will we announce it to everyone? God, I hope it doesn't mess up the Marriage Mart—

He almost burst out laughing, at that. Suppressing the urge down into a mere smile, he let the CEO think he was happy about the invitation being offered.Stupid idiot! I'm now immune to the matchmaking efforts of the Marriage Mart! Everyone knows the White and Black Dragons are lifelong mates; all question of a 'suitable partner' will be thrown out the window, the moment it's known who we really are...andthat explains why she was so calm about that stupid royals-and-nobles-only marriage clause. She already knows she's the soddering Empress-elect—she outranks everyone in the whole Imperium, to begin with! Not to mention she has priorty claim on me...

It's tempting to make the announcement here and now, he thought, glancing at her. She had a seat to one side, a step lower than his own portion of the royal dais, but close enough that she could whisper advice to him if need be. It was a good thing she was paying attention to the presentation, because Daemon certainly wasn't. Flicking his gaze out over the court, he wondered if he should do it, in the lull between this and the next presentation.

"...Majesty," his Court Herald murmured in his ear, leaning close for a quiet, discreet word. "The ships bearing the Queen of Ruyika have just entered the home system. They'll be in orbit within five hours, according to Insystem Control."

Nodding his understanding, Daemon marshalled his thoughts, and made up his mind. ...Not right now, I think. If I reveal what I know right now, I won't ever learn what that woman is up to. Sunny's strange ability to read minds, right after her arrival...that wasn't faked. I don't think she knew what she was doing at the time, but she certainly knows now. It was tempting to test the ability himself, but he refrained.No, it's better to string the Ruyikan Queen along for a few more days. There's still those questions about my father's and brother's deaths to answer, and Sunny seemed to think the Ruyikans were mixed up in it, somehow.

Indeed, the best place to make the announcement that we're the new Emperor and Empress would be at the Formal Familial Ball. That would squash all ideas of pairing me with anyone else, and it would give me a few days to experiment in private to see if I've developed any powers. It would also give me the chance to speak with Armon privately about arranging suitable attire for my bride-to-be, he thought, glancing at his Consort. They'll not be able to bar her from attending, as the Empress-to-be. I want no doubts as to who she is, to the universe and to me; the broadcast of the ball across the nation will help ensure that.

Pleased with his plotting, Daemon nodded and reassured the corporate president that he'd carefully consider the invitation. Of course, as the Imperials-elect, his and Sunny's schedules would be shot to hell and back in the need to attend to their Imperial Coronation, and to start dealing with the needs of the whole Empire. It would take some very careful planning, he realized, to not let his own people feel neglected by a king suddenly elevated above and beyond their traditional reach.

...Oh, sloppy craker,he thought, borrowing one of Sunny's favorite curses. I just realized I'll not only be stuck for the rest of my life as a king, but as the Emperor, too. So much for living a quiet life in the shadow of my father and brother!

...

"You've been rather quiet, since Court," Sunny observed a little while later as they entered the privacy of the saeda. The original plan had been to retire to his quarters for a couple hours of rest before the formal arrival of Queen Astrida, and the banquet to be held in her honor. "Something on your mind?"

"Yes. But I'd rather give it some more thought before I discussed the matter," he demurred. Catching her hand, he laced their fingers together, drawing her towards the plant-edged, artificial lake meandering through the center of the complex, with its splashing waterfalls and steaming pools. "And I'd rather not think at all, for a little while. At least not of anything other than you."

"Sweet-talker," she teased. "What did you have in mind?"

"Swimming, lovemaking, and a pampering massage, not necessarily in that order. With Astrida's arrival, my usual schedule has been set aside in favor of getting ready for her welcome into my court. But I'd rather not think of her, when all I can think about is you." Drawing her to a stop near the curved bridge over the stream formed by the water, he kissed her lightly on the mouth, hands still clasped. "What would my beloved like first? A massage? A swim? An earth-shattering orgasm?"

"Mmm, you tempt me with so many possibilities," she purred against his lips. "Who would be giving me the massage? You, or the masseusse?"

"Whoever you like."

She pretended to consider the matter. "Let's save that for the masseusses giving both of us massages...after a swim and a bit of lovemaking. That way we'll be pleasantly limp from all that exertion."

"Good idea." Raising his free hand, Daemon flicked it in an imperious gesture. A gong rang out, and movement at the edges of the large chamber showed the discreetly placed servants obediently withdrawing from view. "Shall I undress you?"

"Nope. This time, I want you to strip for me," she returned, stroking her own free hand down the sapphire blue center of his tunic-covered chest. "Entice me. Dance for me, if you can."

"Alas, I have no musicians, and no real training in such matters...but if my fumblings will please and pleasure you...?" he offered solicitously.

"Tsk tsk," Sunny chided him. "What a double-standard, demanding that your concubines know how to dance, yet not learning the art yourself. Whatever am I going to do with you, Daemon?"

Taking her hands, he drew her close enough to brush his lips against hers between words. "Stay with me...love me...rule with me...love me..."

"You said that one already," she reminded him, slipping her hands around his waist.

"Well, it is twice as important as the others," he pointed out logically, cupping her shoulders as their bodies drew close enough to brush against each other. He knew the answer was guaranteed by the Matrix, but he wanted her to admit it aloud. "Possibly even three times as much. Will you love me, Sunny? As much as I love you?"

"I already do," she murmured, her mouth ghosting against his.

Daemon smiled. Their mouths mated as their hands stripped away each other's clothes. She pulled away after a few moments, giving him a chiding look. Reminding him silently that he was supposed to be stripping for her benefit. Humming a song as silly as his heart felt, Daemon started unfastening the buttons of his tunic. He even took a few steps to the left, a few to the right, and kicked out his ankles as he shrugged out of the deep blue material. That made her laugh and shake her head ruefully, but he continued.

It was fun, making his Sunny laugh with his absurd shoulder-shimmies and pelvic gyrations. It was also awkward, getting his footwear off elegantly—one boot ended up thumping into a bush, the other nearly tripping him as he crossed its path while swaying and shaking his trousers to his ankles. That sent her into peals of laughter. Gasping for breath, she clutched her stomach, guffawing with abandon as he blushed and strutted for her benefit. Her laughter died down—and with it, salvaged the shreds of his male dignity—when he removed his undershorts, letting the silky material flutter to the ground. Instead, she stared at his rampant masculinity, eyes gleaming with a hungry, feminine appreciation.

Tossing his dark hair back over his shoulder, Daemon caressed his body as she watched, proud that she found his lean, muscular frame so enjoyable. Deliberately, he traced the path of the anti-freckles lining his face, spiralling his arms, and curving over his chest. He couldn't trace the path of white freckles lower than his groin, since it would have been awkward to bend over and caress the natural tan of his thighs, but he did trace something else that she found fascinating.

Sunny couldn't resist anymore. He'd taught her passion, and in doing so, instilled a stimulus-response within her. Not even bothering to strip off her own clothes, she closed the distance between them, dropped to her knees, and guided his erection to her lips.

"Sunny—! Ah, sweet Sundrea!" he gasped, hands clutching at her curls as she swallowed his hot flesh as deeply as she could without gagging. "Sweet...sweet...love..."

Pulling back, she swirled her tongue around the ridge of his glans, the move taught on her world as an invocation for cooling winds, in the Prayer for Rain. The breath that shuddered out of her lover's lungs was probably hotter than the kind the ritual sought to create, but it was a satisfying sound all the same. The taste wasn't bad, either, though it was the texture of the soft, velvety skin that her lips and tongue enjoyed the most. And she did enjoy exploring it, until he shuddered, gripped head firmly, and pulled himself away.

"No," Daemon panted; more of that, and her talented mouth would have him forgetting his own name, nevermind his vows to her. "Your turn. I promised to pleasure you."

"But it pleases me to do that to you," she pointed out. "If you want to please me, why shouldn't I do that to you?"

"Because I want to do the same to you." Giving her a hand up, he unfastened the froggs of her tunic-dress. Peeling away the rose-pink material, Daemon cast it aside, then scooped her up in his arms. She laughed softly, looping her arms around his neck.

Carrying her to one of the padded loungers, Daemon lay her on the soft-sueded cushions, then crouched and parted her thighs. Sunny shook her head, clamping her legs together. "Uh-uh. You get your feet up here," she ordered him, patting the space by her head. "Come on! Lie down with me, and we'll do the Rainbow Prayer."

"The Rainbow Prayer?" Daemon asked, bemused by the term. "What's that one?"

Sunny rolled her eyes. "You silly Astorran—what do you get when you mix sun and rain at the same time, but a rainbow?"