Responsibility Ch. 06

"Utkinsky. They're aren't the wealthiest nor the most influential family. The head is a Baron."

That was an acceptable beginning. At least one baron existed and he had a family. The name was Utkinsky.

Rahela nodded again.

"Once you're taken to the Yahsin Imperial Court," the Emperor suddenly said, possibly changing the subject, "you won't be taught the etiquette. You'll need to observe everyone, teaching yourself a sliver of rules every meeting. I've sent a message long ago. Everyone's been informed that you'll break many rules because you don't know the rules." He reached up to rub and scratch at his head. Rahela heard some of his hair being whished about. "As long as you listen and obey your superiors, you shouldn't be rebuked. You'll have far more pressing subjects to study. Etiquette should be the lowest priority."

Rahela's voice fluttered. "Am I meant to study more practical matters? The estate's finances? The empire's economy? The laws? The noble families?"

His hand left his hair, and he snapped his fingers. Something like lightning zipped through Rahela's throat and bosom as the noise rang out. "Correct, Little Princess," he said. "Your responsibility to me, and to Yahsin, will to learn as much as you can about it. I'll send you books and scrolls. You'll accompany my steward one day, my head-butler on another day, perhaps my clerk after that. Another staff member on another day. A wife cannot manage a home if she's a stranger to it."

Rahela bowed slightly. "You are a wise ruler. I'd dare not question you."

"Ah!" The Emperor got out of his chair with the buoyancy of someone ready to go running. It was abrupt. Rahela took two steps backwards. "Throughout this journey," he said, "you've only legitimized my venture." He moved closer, stretched his arm forward, and then he had one of her plaits. It was a simple braid kept together by thread. "You'll do well as my wife."

What she'd expected happened at that moment.

His free arm went around her back. Rahela had to take in that sweet smell of his. Her cheek was against his woolen tunic. The wool mixed in with the sweetness.

He let her hair go, but he didn't leave it alone. He swung both her plaits behind her shoulders, moving them out of the way.

To him, she weighed so little. Carrying her up, closer to his level, was simple.

She clutched bits of fabric on his shoulders.

It was a kiss. She'd stopped counting days ago. She didn't know what number was supposed to be assigned to this one.

The next one was different. It landed on her cheek instead of her lips. It made her blink a few more times than normal. After that, a kiss went to her neck. He had to prod at her jaw with his nose to have better access. It was a new sort of kiss for Rahela. It sent a wiggling, shocking feeling down her throat and to her lower belly. It even made her thighs press together. She frowned at this bizarre little feeling.

The Emperor still carried her as he went back to his chair and sat down. Then he had to adjust her body. It wasn't an elegant motion. He accidentally pushed her breath out. In the end, Rahela was sitting on his lap, her back against him. One of her hands pressed onto her chest as she struggled, almost drying her mouth with her loud breathing.

"Oh?"

The voice might as well have been warm water splashing over her. First, warmth spread down from the top of her head, reaching most extremities. Second, it was as if cold air had touched the wet skin, because goose pimples rose with what felt like a bombastic intent. They demanded to be noticed.

"I've mishandled my Little Princess." In the middle of the sentence, the Emperor's tone lowered. One of his hands went down to her hip. Now breathing normally, but still tense, Rahela folded her arms under her breasts. He continued with, "You should have a moment to recover." His fingers drummed on her.

Rahela hated it.

But she endured.

He was doing this away from anyone's eyes. This was more tolerable than him pulling on her hair in front of his squires and page, or in front of her maids-in-waiting. There was less discourtesy, as surprising as that might've been.

"Are you upset?"

What?

Rahela's nails dug into her sleeves. The clothing was a helpful buffer but there as still a self-inflicted pain.

Why was he asking her such a question? Her feelings concerning him weren't important. They never were! If he wanted to toss her around like a toy, he could do it. Many would call him rude, and many would even call him barbaric, but he had enough power to do as he pleased.

Even if he never wanted to touch her, Rahela's feelings didn't matter.

She was meant to be his wife one day. That was more important than any of her emotions.

"You're always so quiet when you stay in the dark with me." His hand slid up from her hip to roughly the middle of her waist. "Are your thoughts knitting too tightly?"

Rahela had to speculate the meaning of that question. It might've been a common expression, perhaps something about thinking too much.

Away from her waist, up, the hand went to her head, where Rahela was petted like a favored child or a pet. Her lips wriggled and one of her eyes nearly shut.

"What's overspread your brain, Little Princess?"

That was a more serious question, or rather, a question that demanded a reply. Rahela had to speak, but her mind was unable to set anything free, or rather not anything particularly serious.

So, when her tongue stopped curling and flapping around in her mouth, the words she blurted out felt very irregular. "Your Majesty! Your perfume's strange!! I've never smelled anything like it!! What is it?!"

Instead of a firm stricture of brick and mortar, it was an untidy gathering of loose and wild rocks dropped into a bowl of partly wet cement. There were multiple tones too. Rahela didn't normally speak this way. Her face burned once she realized she'd actually said it all.

"Oh!" The Emperor petted her head again. "Coconut. It's a coconut perfume."

He snorted a little.

She had to move with the flow. She was the one that opened the dam, after all. Almost biting the inside of a lip, Rahela flinched and asked, "What's a coconut?"

She felt his torso move as one of his laughs was kept away. Then he made a light cough and said, "It's a fruit. Once you're established in the Imperial Castle, I'll give one to you."

Under her thighs, there was an upward jerk, making her bounce and gasp. The Emperor had moved his leg. "If you want to return to your maids, then you should put your little feet down and go."

"Huh?" Rahela had another bout of rapid blinking.

"Go on to your maids," the Emperor said, lightly patting one of her cheeks with his fingertips.

...

Well ...?

Very well?

Rahela squirmed and slid her way off of his lap and shook her skirt out as if she was worried about dust or dirt. Then she turned to face the man and slowly bowed.

"Thank you for your time, Your Majesty."

***