Diaries of a Dark Princess Pt. 08

And then I was saved.

By Terra.

She spoke of the upcoming ritual; about how my contributions were invaluable. She spoke of how it would be too late to replace me at this late date; how if I was not able to perform my ritual duties...

My father stared at her and I knew that he knew that something was happening. My own sister, defending me? Even if every word she said was true-

(Not true. Not true, I think to myself now, even as I write these words they seem to be strange and unreal- the ritual is complete. Another person could be used instead of me. Samuel might grieve, he might grow wrath- but with Hopestra's life at stake would he really refuse to go ahead with the plan?)

-even if it was all true, then would she still really speak out? No, the Terra of a month ago would not. Neither would I.

"After the ritual then," my father said. "Four days. Four days- and then I will show the empire that no-one, not even my own daughter, is exempt from the price of failure." And with that he dismissed me, allowing me to limp back to my room and into Sammy's arms. I was glad he was not there to witness it- who knows that he might have done had he been there?

Afterwards, I asked Terra why she did what she did. She simply smiled and said in a manner that was infuriatingly smug, "Family is meant to share everything, aren't we? I believe a rather silly girl said something along those lines. And I suppose that includes dangers as well."

I did not hug her. Alright, Sam hugged both of us which meant that she was pressed up against me and my arms might have been forced to wrap around her body but it was a mere reflective action to check for weapons.

"What will we do?" asked Shadra. "He will be investigating the recent change to the palace. All it will require is one of our little group of corrupted priestesses and priests to crumble under the pressure-

"Priests?" I raised an eyebrow. "I thought we only had priestesses."

Sinistoria spoke. "Well... we may have gotten a little carried away. And the girls had been getting rather needy... Samuel can't be with us all the time, after all."

"Terra," I asked, "have you been seducing Dark Priests in order to sway them over to our secretive and selective conspiracy?"

"I suppose that's a positive side effect," my sister said.

Sinistoria added, "Mostly it occurred because we found one of our priestesses had already seduced them and we felt a need to get involved, in order to not betray your cunning plan."

"Was that the only reason?"

"No," said Terra.

"No," said Sinistoria.

"It was also because we were bored and Sam was busy." She saw my incredulous expression and shrugged.

Sam spoke up. "Well, now I might not be much of schemer but it seems to be that with everyone in a happy mood, won't it be hard to spot all them plotting types? I mean, one happy guy or girl is pretty much like the next."

"The problem is that Father has assigned General Mortican to investigate. He is a terrifying warrior and skilled general, but his main strength is his perceptiveness. It will not take him long to sense a pattern to the strange behavior in the palace- and track it back to us."

Shadra spoke, her eyes lowered. "I could deal with him..."

"No!" I shook my head. "No. No, if father's greatest general dies while investigating the phenomenon, then he will go into high alert. We need to find some way to dissuade him- to find some way to sway him to my cause...what is it? Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

Shadra said, "There really is only one way to stop him without killing him. And that's to bring him into our conspiracy."

Terra said, "He doesn't trust me like he does you. He likes you, Feera."

Sinistoria said, "Sam is not going to be able to seduce him and... well, you are the most seductive amongst us, are you not? I distinctly remember you telling me so last night while you-"

I coughed. And blinked. I suppose they made sense. I had intended to persuade Mortican once the plan had reached its completion- if only as a fait accompli. What they were suggesting made more sense if it could be done...

And it could be done, I realized. There really wasn't much of a reason for me not to try. I mean, other than-

I mean, it wasn't like I hadn't slept with other people, even if they were women. Samuel was my conquest. I was a Dark Princess and he was a peasant boy. He'd seduced dozens of women! Dammit, I didn't need his permission or anything!

I glanced in his direction, not to find out what he thought but rather to inform him wordlessly that his opinion wasn't sought for.

He just smiled at me with that big innocent peasant smile of his and said, "Now don't you be worrying, Feera. I know your big plan is real important. Besides, my mum always says that Girls Shouldn't Get Jealous of Other Girls, and I reckon it goes the same for guys."

"You really don't mind," I commanded him. It was merely due to a slip of the tongue that it sounded like a question.

"I know you love me." And with that he turned and left.

I sat on my bed. I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes.

"He said-"

"Speak another word- just a single word- oh so-called sister, and I shall unleash an arcane workings of such awful and terrible power that your name will become synonymous with painful and excruciating demises throughout all of creation!"

"Do not worry, oh elder sister. I respect your primacy and fear your terrible power."

"That is good, because-"

"And besides, I would never insult a woman in love."

In my defense, the lightning bolts were small and they were intended to miss.

***

It was but one bell later that I knocked on the door of the great Dread General Mortican, Commander of the Vast and Terrible Legions of the Dark Empire.

He answered the door. He was dressed in a simple tunic of dark cloth, and I took a moment to look at him with new eyes. He was a tall and muscular man, with a sharp face and hooked-beak nose; old tattoos- a remnant of his past spent in the Southern Barbarian wastes. He was not a handsome man, like my Sammy; but he had a stout vigor to him, a power and certainty that none the less was appealing. He nodded as I stepped into the room. "I suspected that you would appear. How are you, oh Princess?"

I paused, aware that my answer would set the tone for the conversation. Tears or distress would no doubt prompt sympathy- but sympathy was, amongst our people, not a coinage with much value. I might attempt a joke or some blithe response that what had happened did not truly matter to me, so better to hide my intent. But I knew that Mortican was not the sort of person to waste time with obvious falsehoods. No, there really was only one response worth making.

"I am," I said, "most wroth." And I swept into his room like a vengeful spectre. He smiled a narrow smile and reached for a jug. "Wine?"

"Please." He poured me a draught and I took a sip, letting the taste play upon my tongue. No poison; or at least not a poison that my simple whispered cantrip would be able to spot. Not that I really expected any, but still, one checks. He took a sip of his own wine before saying, "What brings you to my door?"

"For a number of reasons." I smiled at him and saw something like confusion in his eyes; this was not the sort of smile that the icy, so-serious daughter of his Emperor typically made- or even supposedly knew how to make. It was fascinating, seeing him suddenly stare at me with new eyes; watching the cold girl he thought he know slowly be replaced by the confident, alluring young woman. My smile only broadened as confusion and the first, faint stirrings of lust rose in his eyes. "But I wish to ask you a question. Tell me, why do you follow my father?"

Confusion and lust were replaced just as quickly with caution. "Be very careful of what you say, Princess. You are on dangerous ground already. I know that your father has been hard on you lately-"

"My father has realised that very soon he shall ascend to godhood. Gods do not need heirs. But I digress. I believe that I asked you a question. Why do you follow my father?" I saw the suspicion and continued, "Oh, don't worry. This is not some trap to lure you into betraying some treacherous sentiments- I know you too well." I sipped my wine and leant just a little closer, aware of the way his eyes- just for a heartbeat- fixed south to my neckline, before darting away as though seeking some escape.

Not that there would be any. Not from what I offered. He spoke in soft tones, "He has power, Feera. He has all of the power. Power enough to sweep away all of our enemies; power enough to see us conquer the world."

"Power," I chuckled. "Power is a delicate thing, isn't it? Always shifting according to the circumstances, the situation... sometimes, my dear Morticus, power can come down to the right leverage in the right moment."

"What do you want?" he repeated.

I chuckled and rose to my feet. I crossed the space between us. Morticus was a huge man and powerful. He had the trust of my father, so much as that Father trusted anyone. He had the legions of great warriors, beastman and human, at his disposal. He had a brilliant, tactical mind and decades of experience as a canny warrior. And yet, as a gasp rose from his throat, as I sunk to my knees in front of him, there was no mistaking who was in control.

I continued to speak. "What I want is to give you two lessons on power, Dear Commander. The first I will demonstrate in four days. All I require is that you delay your investigation until then; once you are done, you may tell father whatever you desire."

"And the second lesson?" he breathed as he stared down at me.

My hands found his pants, curling around the heavy, straining mass I found there. I grinned wickedly. "The second? Well, I intend to demonstrate it now."

As I pulled down his pants, as I leant forward to kiss and lick his phallus- if not as perfect as Sammy's, then still quite impressive- I felt my heart swell with joy. Sammy is an inconceivably potent lover, able to bring any women he met into a spasms of infinite pleasure- but there was one thing that he, with his kind and simple soul, could never give me. The joy of conquest; the sense of dominance; the glory of feeling my sexual power bind another to my will. I am the child of dominators; of conquerors; of manipulators and dark sorceresses. So it had been with Sinistoria; so it had been with Terra; and so it was with Morticus, as the muscular man moaned and thrashed weakly as I did wonderful, profane things to him with my mouth.

Three times he erupted; once in my mouth, once snugly between my breasts, and a third time along my lower back, until I was marked all over with his seed. Twice I had succumbed, his mouth and fingers working to pleasure me submissively, and if he was not as talented or virile as Sammy the sight of his face in rapture as he knelt between my legs was satisfaction enough. I left without asking if we had an accord. I already knew the answer. We have the time we need, oh diary. And a potent ally if everything works. If it does not, well...

Well then, nothing will save us.

***

20^th Palesong, Year 879 of the Age of Shadow.

Everything is ready. The constellations are nearly ready for the ritual to commence.

Morticus has, so far as I know, kept to my commands. He speaks often with father, but the lack of Shadow Guards bashing down my door and cutting down both Sammy and myself is a sign that he has not revealed my secrets.

Father's prohibition on erotic congress has held. It has had the strange benefit of leaving everyone in a dazed sexual haze, rendering them oddly pliable and distracted. The entire palace feels as though it is ready to explode with erotic need.

Perfect.

Sammy is ready. The priestesses and priests have somehow managed to stop enjoying each other long enough to grasp what is required of them. Shadra waits nervously- she is worried about me. Terra is arrogantly confident. She claims she has a last-minute ace in the hole in the event we are discovered. I asked her if it involved evil clowns; she merely smiled in that smug way of hers.

It is late. I have reviewed and re-reviewed my notes. We are as ready as we will ever be, diary. If I write in your pages tomorrow it will be with my circumstances entirely changed. If I don't write to you it will be because I have failed and will no doubt either be a pile of ash or suffering under whatever tortures my father deems appropriate.

Tomorrow then, diary. Tomorrow. We will see if I am clever enough; cunning enough; skilled enough; powerful enough. Tomorrow is where I learn if I have ever deserved the moniker of Dark Princess. Tomorrow is where I learn if I am worthy of the destiny I seek.

Tomorrow.