Queen Yavara Ch. 47

Part Fourteen: A Traitor of Two Nations

Interlude

Yavara sat upon a black throne. She closed her eyes and savored the discordant symphony of wails and moans, the drone punctuated by the clanking of chains and the cracking of whips. Exhaling contentedly, she opened her eyes. Below her laid a spectacle of depravity, churning masses of flesh oscillating to some unheard cadence, their glistening forms bathed in the crimson torchlight. The prisoners' eyes were wide with horror, as what was being done to them was horrible, but comingled with that horror was a terrible ecstasy. Oh, but they tried to deny it, as high-elves held dignity over all things, but even they, the noblest of races, could not conceal their fall from grace. And what a fall it was, for they'd spent their lives so very high in the world, assured in their perch of superiority over all living things.

Yavara smiled from the corner of her mouth as she savored the sight. She had been a high-elf once, a royal daughter of the very people she now forced into perverse subservience. But that was before she was taken by the orc, before he had his way with her beneath the canopy of the Great Forest. Only the creatures of the woods heard her shrieks of terror and pain, and only they witnessed as the shrieks of pain turned to cries of pleasure. Only they witnessed her metamorphosis, her... fall. Yavara's fingers began to explore herself as she remembered the moment fondly.

"Your Highness?" Drake Titus asked her.

Yavara opened one eye and smiled to the vampire lord, though in truth, she wished he was someone else. There were very few people left who remembered her before her transformation. Zander had grown distant, and Yavara didn't understand why, but every passing day seemed to make them strangers to each other. Brock Terdini was dead, though Yavara did not yet know it, for Adrianna and Furia hadn't yet summoned the courage to tell her. They didn't want to distract her on this, the most momentous night in history. The Lowlands ambassador to Alkandra, Prince Matthew Dreus, had betrayed her (or at least, that was how it appeared) and Yavara had offered to delay his execution, or even free him if her conditions were met. It all depended on how is father, King Albert Dreus, reacted to the news coming out of Bentius.

Word had come that a coup was taking place in the Highlands. The enemies of Leveria Tiadoa had stormed the castle, and were only minutes away from capturing her. Yavara's plans had finally been realized; the Highland noble court had turned on their queen. It meant that Yavara would not have to invade her homeland to win the war, but more importantly to her, it meant that her beloved Elena would finally return to her after months of being an unwilling ambassador. Yavara had tried to call her on the mirror earlier that night, but she wasn't answering. Likely, she was in the thick of it all, fighting alongside Ternias to oust the warmongering Highland queen, and finally bring about the peace she and Yavara had both fought so hard for. Yavara remembered the cryptic message Ternias had sent her only days ago. 'My time will come, and when it does, I will give you a gift, and you will respond in kind.' The gift would be her sister. The idea made Yavara absolutely giddy, but she tempered herself. Nothing mattered until she got word from Elena. And so, in the waning hours of the night, she had come down to the throne room to clear her mind.

"Your Highness?" Titus asked her again.

She opened the other eye. "Are the prisoners to your satisfaction, Drake? These spies disguised themselves as dawn-elves. Of course, Arbor knew who they were the moment they stepped into the Great Forest, but she figured it would be easier to just let them walk right into my castle than to bother capturing them herself."

Titus looked back at the twenty Highland men and women. They were all in some form of bondage, as vampires did so love their bondage, and they were all being beautifully ravaged.

"They are more than satisfactory, Your Highness." Titus said.

"Good." Yavara smiled, though it was rueful. "I was just remembering what it was like to be a victim."

"I can't say I remember what it's like."

"You were a human before Gloria bit you."

He shrugged. "But I can't remember."

"Well, I remember." Yavara sighed, letting her eyes linger on two high-elves. One was male, and the other was female, and they were holding hands as they were being violated. Siblings? Yes. How sweet. The duo of victims were fortunate enough to have the full attention of the most notorious couple in Alkandra: Soraya Poneria, and Eva Alecia. Furia and Adrianna had bitten the rest of the hybrid elves, giving them all the gift of vampirism without the ills. They were day-walkers like Yavara, transformative creatures who could dabble in the predatory delights of vampirism without the commitment. It was an honor only reserved for those of great importance, for Drake Titus was loath to allow what he deemed 'half measures.'

The brother was seated atop Eva's lap, and was staring down with horrified eyes as he was impaled anally by her thick hermaphroditic cock. Such a deep penetration it was, for vampires were all blessed between the legs (and Eva was blessed before her change), but the only pain the young man felt was that of his pride when his own cock rose shamefully between his legs. I doubted he was homosexual, but he could not hide the way he shuddered when his balls rested upon Eva's dripping slit, nor could he conceal the moan that bubbled from his lips. Between his legs, the voluptuous vampiric Soraya was gently grooming the elf-boy's sister. The girl was drunk with pleasure, undulating mindlessly within the vampire's embrace as she was violated by the hands that worked expertly between her legs. She came with an arching back, and screamed joyously to the ceiling, all thought of her circumstances forgotten in the heat of such pure ecstasy. At the precipice of her ascension, Soraya bit the girl, and injected her venom.

"Two fangs!" Titus yelled, and Soraya nodded, closing her eyes to savor the moment. The girl went limp in her arms, then surged into life. Her small, slender elf body became statuesque and curvaceous; her blonde hair became jet black; her blue eyes became red with reptilian pupils; and her mouth became full and crimson, baring two long fangs. She leapt upon her brother, turned his head to the side, and stuck her fangs deep into his throat. He gasped, mouthing soundlessly as he became paler and thinner.

Soraya pulled her new blood-daughter off, and wrestled her gently into submission. When the girl calmed, she looked upon her new mother, and smiled. They kissed, long and passionately, their fingers traversing each other's bodies without trepidation. When they parted, they shared a wicked grin between them, and turned to face the boy. He objected and pleaded with his sister as he rose and fell to the cadence of Eva's raping thrusts, but his sister only giggled at her brother's horror. He didn't understand. He was not yet enlightened. He would be soon, but for the precious moments he still had in his body, they would enjoy corrupting his innocence.

The girl wrapped her fingers around her brother's stiff cock, and took it deep into her throat. He stared wide-eyed at her, his face a portrait of disgust and confusion, but oh, there was the forbidden lust in his eyes! Eva could smell it on him, and she drove harder and harder into his ass, her pillowing breasts consuming the sides of his head, swallowing it in succulent flesh as he cried out in bisexual delight, unable to contain his pleasure. Soraya descended upon him with a grin, and he disappeared beneath a pile of beautiful women.

"Exquisite." Yavara sighed, "Like watching a flower bloom. I remember when it was me, then Elena, then Adrianna."

"And where is Adrianna?" Titus asked. He was hopelessly enamored with the governess, and blushed for the first time in centuries when Yavara raised her brows at him.

"She's with Prince Matthew." Yavara answered, "I imagine she has quite a few questions for him."

"Ah, yes." Titus sighed, avoiding Yavara's smirk.

There was an interruption. It was small, something so innocuous that Yavara didn't even notice it. It was Zander Fredeon. He'd come down the stairs of the northwest tower, and halted abruptly at the threshold when he saw Yavara. He let out a gasp. After a thousand years, it had finally happened. The Dark Queen was sitting on the Black Throne. His curse was lifted. In the shadows of the stairway, Zander stood rigid and alone, waiting for the relief of his burden to be washed from him. He closed his eyes, let out a long slow breath, and counted down the seconds. Nothing happened. There was no change. When Zander next opened his eyes, he was only confused. Had it happened earlier? Had he not noticed it? No. He would've felt the change, for the curse had been ever-present in his life for a millennium, and he still felt its sharpness keenly. He looked upon the chair Yavara sat upon, wondering if it had been mistakenly replaced, but it was unquestionably the petrified ebony of the Black Throne, for he could see the dark energy radiating from it. If the chair wasn't the problem, then... he drew his eyes slowly to the woman who sat upon it, and felt a creeping, cold horror enter his mind.

Yavara laughed at the embarrassed vampire, and returned her attention to the debauchery of her court. She did not know it at the time, but these precious minutes were the last peaceful moments of her soon to be very short reign. For Yavara did not yet know that Adrianna had betrayed her. She did not yet know that the Lowlands had launched an armada to blockade her city. She did not yet know that Elena Straltaira was already dead. These realizations would cascade upon her over the next coming days, and the weight they placed upon her would destroy her soul. But then, Yavara did not yet know that her very soul had been broken upon its inception. In those precious minutes, Yavara only mused blissfully upon the night that led her to this moment. Then, her hand mirror lit up, showing the sigil of Lucas Ternias. She smiled excitedly, and touched the glass.

Chapter Forty-Seven

LEVERIA

I awoke in silk sheets. My body was clean and healed, my hair soft and fine, no pain between my legs. For a blissful moment, I thought it had all been a nightmare. Then I felt the shackles around my wrists, and saw Lucas Ternias at the foot of my bed.

"Feeling better?" He asked with a slimy smile.

I didn't answer.

He nodded, and walked around the bed. He tentatively sat down beside me, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. Then he lifted his legs up, and eased himself into a lying position next to me. "You know," he said, "I've never been in bed with a woman before. I'm not gay, mind you. There's just something about sex that's just too... intimate." He turned to look at me, and smiled, "There, now you know my darkest secret. The infamous, devious, master-manipulator of the Noble Court is a fifty-year-old virgin."

Again, I didn't answer.

He laughed as though I had. "I often imagined what it would be like to lie with you. You and I were a perfect match, and that was why we became adversaries. Partners are boring, but enemies are worth living for. And yet, there was a part of me that so admired your cunning and beauty that I hoped this moment would come to fruition, and indeed, it has."

He took the bedsheets in his hands, and slowly slid them off me. I was naked, and he observed every inch of my nudity with a covetous gaze. He reached out, his fingers extending to touch my breast. I closed my eyes, a tear running down my cheek. I felt the heat of his hand hovering over my nipple, and my flesh prickled in disgust. He withdrew, and laughed to himself. "No, I do believe I will die a virgin. There is a barrier between me and the rest of the world, and I cannot for the life of me overcome it. I won't touch you."

"How noble." I hissed.

"Oh, so she does speak!" Ternias laughed, "I worried that I'd heard your last words."

"You have now." I said, and shut my lips.

Ternias gave me a rueful look. "I saw what you did to poor Eric, and I could tell by the wholeness of the corpse that you got bored of him. You would not have gotten bored with me, Leveria. You would've taken a long, long time. Just like what you did with that assassin Dreus sent." He chuckled, "Your vice is much more terrible than mine. In truth, if it were up to me, I would've just imprisoned you after you'd kissed my ring. All I wanted to see was the acknowledgement of my victory." He looked almost ashamed, "I took no pleasure in your suffering, but you were too great a foe to give any chance to. I know there are those in the court who are still loyal to you, and I know I must have traitors in my own ranks. I know you have assassins on the payroll, and foreign spies, and connections with underground entities. I needed to show all of them that you are done."

"Why not just kill me then?"

"You know why."

I took two deep breaths, and let them out slowly through my nose. "You're going to give me to Yavara. That's your peace deal."

He nodded, a pitiable expression on his face. "I'm afraid that my cruelty was just an appetizer. She'll need to placate that blood-thirsty horde to get them off our border. I'm sorry for what's about to happen to you."

"No, you're not."

"I am." He said resolutely, "It's undoubtedly what you deserve, but I don't wish it on anyone." He was silent for a moment, and the morning songbirds chirped out the window. Small flurries floated listlessly by, the first of the season. "How did you find out about Eric?" He asked.

I kept my lips sealed.

He rolled his eyes. "Come now, Leveria. If our places were switched, you'd croon on about how you'd uncovered my plot. I know you've fantasized about it." He leaned in until I could smell his breath, "After all, I'm the only person in the world who can appreciate it."

I glared at him, hating that he was right. "Huntiata asked me about the battle of Mid Fort. He told me that Eric had said no Highland spell could destroy the causeway. Eric and Huntiata were not on speaking terms, so when Huntiata told me Eric had divulged military secrets to him, I knew he was your man. Eric was stupid, but he was not clumsy. You told him to tell Huntiata. You wanted Huntiata to fear the Dark Queen's power so that when you coopted Elena's peace deal in the court, he would go along with it." I sighed, "It was then that I realized Elena had parroted your lie about Lord Xantian's contracts; you couldn't get to Xantian, and so you made me think he'd betrayed me. Eric was supposed to secure Lord Xantian for me after Ambassador Wentz levied his sanctions, but the meeting never happened, because you told Eric not to schedule it."

"You gleaned all that from two things said by unwitting mouths?" Ternias raised his brows, "Even I underestimated you. I thought Catherine had come babbling."

"What good would she have done me? The stupid bitch would never have guessed that you intended on marrying Sofia Droughtius."

Ternias threw back his head, and roared. "Oh, Leveria! Was there nothing you did not uncover?"

"No, but it was too late." I muttered. "Did you find Elena?"

He reached into his pocket, and dropped a pearl necklace beside me. Her mother's necklace, the one I'd given her at Castle Thorum. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and nodded.

"Did you love her?" Ternias asked.

"Yes."

"She was a fascinating woman."

"You told Yavara I killed her, didn't you?"

"Yes. By torture."

I took two more deep breaths through my nose, and let them go. "Now I have said my last words to you, Lucas Ternias."

ADRIANNA

The crowd roared all around us and above us. It wasn't the jubilant call we were used to in the arena, but a hateful sound, one that shook the sands beneath us with its intensity. The morning sun caught the specks of flurries, the display of refraction creating great beams of soft light that emerged from between the clouds, and descended to the arena floor. We stood on the scaffolding. Furia was beside me, Eva and Soraya were to my left, and Kiera and Brianna were to my right. Faltia stood alone before us. While we all wore our ceremonial white robes, she was naked, letting the cold sunlight bathe her bronze and tattooed flesh, highlighting the rises of muscle that contoured her form. She held an axe in her hands, and her fingers caressed it lovingly.

The doors on the other side of the arena opened, and the crowd erupted. Yavara marched from beneath the stands, her head adorned with a black crown, her torso covered in a corset, her thigh-high boots ending in garters, which ended in a thin thong. She had a chain in her hand, and at the end of the chain, Prince Matthew Dreus stumbled after her, trying desperately to keep up. He was naked and disheveled, afforded no sleep the night before. He walked in a daze. He tripped and fell, and the crowd jeered him. He struggled to get to his feet, but Yavara never even broke stride, and she dragged him down. He could only crawl after her, flinching as he was pelted with stones thrown from the crowd. So vicious were some of the strikes that I thought he might be killed by one of them, but Yavara made sure the lethal stones didn't strike him at lethal speeds. He endured fifty yards of crawling through rough gravel on his hands and knees before Yavara yanked him up the steps of the scaffolding. He got to his feet on the top step, his hands and knees raw and bloody, his stare vacant until it met mine. Then it became hateful, filled with such accusation that I actually physically felt it.

"Do not look at her!" Furia snapped at him, "How can you bear to meet her eyes? Have you no shame?"

He looked steadily at Furia. "I would need guilt to have shame, Furia."

Eva spit in his face. "You sniveling bastard!"

He turned to her. "Alexa and I will wait for you."

She decked him so hard that he hit the floor, and the audience roared their appreciation. Yavara dragged him across the scaffolding boards, and forced him to his knees before the chopping block. The crowd's pitch of excitement grew higher as Yavara pushed Prince Matthew's head down onto the block, but then she raised her hand for silence, and all in attendance quieted.

"People of Alkandra, I have not come to speak to you of justice." She said, "Justice is institutional. It is societal restitution. It's cold and soulless. It will not give you peace. It will not give you comfort. What will transpire here is justice. Prince Matthew Dreus has committed a crime against Alkandra. He has betrayed those who trusted and loved him, and now he will die for it. That is justice." She paused, wiping a tear from her eye. I hadn't seen her all morning, but looking at her now, I could tell something had transpired in the night. Her breath came from her in slow tremoring whispers, and she would not look at any of us.

"Yavara, what happened?" I asked.

"She killed Elena, Adrianna." Yavara muttered, "She knew she was going to lose, so she cut her to pieces while she was still alive."

"What?!" I hissed.

Yavara looked up at the stands, and her voice projected from her, terrible and commanding, splitting the air. "People of Alkandra, I have not come to speak to you of justice; I have come to speak of vengeance."

The people of Alkandra answered with a hundred-thousand cries of glee, stomping their feet, thrusting their fists into the air.

Yavara held out her arms. "Two days from now, Queen Leveria Tiadoa will kneel before you, and she will know Alkandran vengeance! She will feel every bit of the pain she has inflicted upon us, and then she will feel more!"