Responsibility Ch. 12

The Emperor himself hired and assigned several different investigators to the controversial case involving Tarmo Ammas. When two investigators came to interview him, Rahela asked if it would be easier for her to leave them be. She didn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.

"You don't need to fret, Your Highness" Ammas said as he sat down with the investigators. "I don't have anything to hide from you."

"Is that so?" Rahela said as she too sat down for the interview, her maids-in-waiting standing behind her. "Then answer every question honestly."

As far as Rahela could tell, he did.

She learned a few interesting facts about the case.

Originally, the person charged with embezzlement was a woman married to Ammas. She'd been the Imperial Castle's Steward. Later, Ammas was implicated. His wife claimed he'd been regularly beating and threatening her, forcing her to steal from the Imperial Family's coffers. Ammas was found guilty while his wife was given only a fine. While he was in the Loveless Tower, his wife divorced him without any input, which normally wouldn't be legal but those circumstances were exceptional.

What had Rahela feeling much more pity than before was Ammas' claim that he'd been innocent all along and his wife had been having an affair with another man who might've put bruises on her just to frame him. Rahela had heard of stranger cases.

Once the interview was finally done, Rahela approached Ammas and told him what she thought he should be doing with his spare time.

"I've sent a message to the barracks. The managers there have agreed to let you spar and exercise with the men. You should grind your skills and recover anything you've lost."

He put on a very aware kind of smirk at her command. Rahela could tell that he'd expected her to give it. He probably wasn't the type to be easily fooled.

But he hadn't completely fooled her.

Bowing, Ammas said, "My Mistress is attentive. I'll go to the barracks as soon as you give your word."

"After your next meal, then," Rahela told him.

She watched him eat after that. She was curious. He didn't eat differently from any other human. Bite, chew, swallow. As many people did, he preferred meat and fruits. He was friendly enough. He chatted to Rahela and her maids-in-waiting. He even tried speaking to Gabi, although that poor girl couldn't even put a single Yahsin sentence together.

"What a quiet little maid my Mistress has," Ammas said as he dipped his bread in a buttery sauce.

Patting Gabi's shoulder, Rahela said, "She's only quiet because she doesn't know the language. She's my sister. His Majesty sent her to me."

"Yes, I assumed as much," Ammas said before biting some bread away.

Her nose crinkling once, Rahela said, "Her resemblance to me is obvious. I should have known you'd settle the truth in your head with little assistance."

Ammas swallowed his bread with a happy little noise. Then he slid a bowl of green, leafy vegetables aside and said, "If it would be acceptable, Your Highness, you could give this to one of your servants. I'm not craving it."

Rahela told Yana to take the bowl of vegetables and hand it off to the youngest chambermaid in her bedchamber. Then Rahela said to the man, "You should try to eat more vegetables in the future. Meat and dairy are excellent, but one needs balance in life."

That smirk returned as he thoughtfully gazed down at his meat. He even poked at it with a fork. His next words were only, "Yes, Your Highness."

Hours later, at dinner in the Dining Hall, something like a ceremony happened.

Yana and Oksana were promoted.

Before anyone was served their food, the girls were told to kneel in front of the high table. Everyone watched as Rahela was handed a pretty dagger with a bejeweled handle. Similar to a promotion for a boy, she gently tapped each girls' shoulders with a flat edge of the blade. Then, in Yahsin, Rahela gave a short lecture about loyalty and good morals. She gave the dagger back to the servant that had offered it. Then she clapped her palms together twice and announced that these girls were now her ladies-in-waiting.

It was a milestone, a time for happiness.

Rahela was glad to see the proud smiles on the girls' faces. It had her remembering a time when she had just been made a lady-in-waiting, but then her cheer melted as she remembered the plainest fact. Rahela hadn't finished her fostering. Instead of graduating from her lady-in-waiting status as a normal maiden of high class might've done, she'd been hauled away to be a child queen. Her immaturity had been ripped from her heart.

Almost without a thought, as Rahela ate her dinner, she reached over Gabi and patted the top of her head. She had no reason to do it.

***

"Little Princess, you've been so gloomy tonight. Are you unwell?"

That's what the Emperor said as he sat beside her in the private reading room, in the long library.

He didn't smell like coconuts this night. He smelled almost bare.

Rahela couldn't think very well. She'd put herself in a difficult, distracted mood. Once this mood was gone, she'd likely be ashamed of herself.

But that didn't mean she was so irritable she couldn't be gentle and docile.

Her breath rolled out into the dark room. Her fingers took the end of a plait, tapping and sliding. She could hear a fingernail occasionally make a solid noise against a case carved from a long since dead deer's antler.

"Oh? Have I been so depressing? I hope I can be forgiven." She wondered if her little sister could be spared a life as difficult as hers. Assuming Rahela's betrothal went well, perhaps a marriage could be arranged for the girl with a Yahsin aristocrat.

His arm went over her shoulders. She didn't love the contact, but she thought the warmth was acceptable. "Are you fretting over the rumors about you?"

"Which ones?" Rahela didn't want to think about any of them, but she knew she had to.

His fingers danced on her shoulder, making a silent little tune. "Ah! That's a deep response. There many rumors, indeed. However, I'm wondering about your mindset concerning certain ones. People have said you're impolite and reckless, particularly with my sister."

An eyelid twitching with every little tap on her shoulder, Rahela said, "I'll be certain to temper myself in the future."

"There's no need," the Emperor quietly insisted. "You've always been humble. Princess Tuya agrees with me. She has no quarrel with you."

Rahela certainly couldn't find any quarrel. All the terms were good. Princess Tuya had never even yelled at her. Everything was peaceful.

She heard his clothing crunch and the bench's cushions groan as he leaned over her. He even nuzzled the top of her head. "Hold no more concerns. You're destined for all the good things." A light pop of a kiss was put on her scalp. It wasn't difficult to ignore. "Why are you still so listless?"

Listless? That couldn't be so. She was active. She was always busy. Why would he use such a word?

Rahela heard one of the oil lamps scrape against a tabletop. She saw the light move. The Emperor had taken an oil lamp. He was moving it. Rahela saw the little mass of light, along with the gradual fading that spread out. She also saw the Emperor's hand had a new mark on it, a possible scar or wound. It meant nothing to her, but she still believed she needed to notice any difference she could, whenever she could.

A side of his face was partially lit. She imagined any other person would call such a sight mysterious or romantic. Perhaps a different woman would be thrilled at such a powerful man to put so much attention to her.

One eye was hidden in the night, but the other was clearly sharp, only just narrowed. His mouth looked softer and only just open enough to put more shadow between his lips. She couldn't call his expression angry but there was definitely a type of passion churning there.

If it wasn't obvious that he'd wanted do something with her body before, then it was obvious now.

Rahela looked away and sighed.

Best to get it over with.

"Have you forgotten about me?"

She blinked as her jaw loosened. Then she managed to chirp out, "Forgotten?"

How could she forget about him? He was literally over her! Talking to her! He was the reason why she was in Yahsin in the first place! He was the reason why she was spending every day taking lessons! The reason why she had to suddenly know so many people's names! The reason why Gabi was in so much danger! The reason why her world was so fragile!

The reason why ...

She was full of hatred.

"Yes, forgotten." A rise in tone, a biting cadence. Was he angry? "Your mind is too distant from me. You barely acknowledge me."

He put his oil lamp back down. That free arm went to her, the hand on her waist. Then he held her closely. He hadn't done that in a while. She'd been rather busy, and he'd likely been busy too.

She heard her hanging pouch and tools bunch and clatter. She dared to imagine a scenario where she could take her knife and stab this man to death, but that was a far away dream. Even if she could succeed, she'd easily be found out, Gabi might be killed, and all of Testoa would suffer.

Oh, but how satisfying it would be to see this man bleed out!!

His lips moved from her hair to her brow, smooth and hot. His breath was enough to make even her throat feel warm. "When I leave," he murmured, "you must always remember me. I'm your driving force, your reason for living here."

Reason, indeed!

Her fingers clenched on her knife, right around the leather case, the nails digging.

That was a stupid thing to do. She had to grit her teeth and slowly force each finger away, one by one.

Only the littlest finger was left when the Emperor suddenly grabbed her wrist, yanking her hand away from the knife.

Rahela gasped. Her belly and heart both chilled and heated all at once. Her blood zoomed all around, yet she felt as if she was paling.

To his lips.

He put her fragile little wrist, the underside, right to his lips. He had to position her hand to do so. His lips moved as if he wanted to slurp some liquid up from his cupped hand. It felt peculiar. It had Rahela shivering. His voice sunk into that weak wrist, making her fingers close.

"Loathe me as much as you please, but don't forget me."

He knew!

He might've always known!!

He knew that her feelings had never changed, and if anything they'd intensified. He knew that she would've loved for him to suffer, that there was no room for any kindly feelings in her heart for him.

He knew.

Rahela tried to speak. Only part of a caw dared to leave her throat.

The Emperor didn't let her say anything. He let her hand go and gripped her waist, right above her girdle belt. He picked her up just enough to put her on his lap, facing him.

Rahela had already touched her knife's case. She wouldn't have resisted, but now that she'd been caught nearly threatening the man, there was even more of a reason to comply. She even put her hands up to his shoulders, making damn sure he knew where they were, that he knew she wasn't touching anything that could be called a weapon.

Her skirts had to be pushed up. The open position her legs had demanded it, one leg bent on the bench's seat and the other danging away. The Emperor apparently wanted more. He tugged her skirts up around her waist.

There were braies this time. The weather had been so cold lately. She'd felt that she needed them. From her waist to her knees, they were essentially a plain set of trousers made of linen and held in place by drawstrings. But they didn't matter very much, neither did the silk clothing under her. None of that mattered.

Heat was spreading all around her thighs, but also pointing up, right where one would expect it to be in such a situation.

The braies really, really didn't matter.

Her cheek pressed in his torso. His heart was heard and felt; it was a bit fast. She hadn't needed to judge his heart to know he was excited. The thing sticking up and almost searing her through all the fabric was enough evidence.

She pressed her teeth together.

The Emperor made a light laugh, moving her with his chest. His hand went to her waist, a finger digging under her girdle belt. He rocked her hips for her. That put something odd in Rahela's body, something that pulled on her nerves and made her groan. She was afraid to show much more emotion than that.

Every tiny part of her vulva pulsed. It was similar to that almost forgotten feeling she had when he'd put his hand between her legs some time ago. Not quite the same, definitely not quite. This time there was a thick and rough sensation.

She couldn't gulp down her little groans and wailing for long. Her teeth had to part. Her voice had to escape. She felt the rumbling and purring in the Emperor's chest. She heard him mutter something about "darling" or "charming." His free hand took one of her plaits and gave a little pull.

It continued. It built up. Rahela was glad she wasn't on her feet because she was dizzy. Most of her sense of touch was between her thighs. She heard the Emperor curse a few times.

When his fingernails sunk into her clothes, against her skin, when her plait was wrapped once around his other hand, he cursed again. It was as if he'd been struggling inside something and finally found the way out. It happened to be the same point when Rahela had her little burst of pleasure, when her thighs shuddered and her startled cries were muffled by fabric.

A moment of breathing. Just breathing. Scratchy. Grating.

The Emperor still had her hair around his hand. He tugged to get her attention.

"I'll adjust your schedule. Tomorrow, you'll be with me."

She almost ... admired him.

Almost.

Her malice meant little to him, not even a flake of disquiet. He wasn't about to ruin Testoa over her unimportant feelings. There were more relevant things to consider.

But why did he want to spend time with her tomorrow?!

Was he truly so conceited that he wanted to haunt her mind?

***

Rahela was lost in a dark world, walking and walking, uncertain of where she was.

There were hallways and doors. She knew that much. When she dared to choose a door, hiding from who knows what, she heard a voice that sent tremors through her chest and limbs.

"Come."

Hungry. A masculine, rough, hungry voice.

Unsure of the space's dimensions, Rahela was afraid to move. What if she bumped into something?

"Come!"

Rahela's hair was pulled. She moved forward. Long, thick arms slid around her. Then she was carried up against a warm body. That warmth dispersed in her. Her misgivings fled at this intriguing feeling.

She was kissed. It wasn't a courteous thing. It was a suckling, wild thing. It was almost as if he wanted to slurp her tongue away.

Rahela loved it. She hadn't known she could love it, but perhaps she should've known. She'd certainly known of certain carnal pleasures, and she was hoping for more here.

Wouldn't he move her legs apart? Wouldn't he touch her there, reminding her that she was indeed an adult human, reminding her that she too could understand some of the most wonderful things?

She was pinned to a wall. The man's mouth went to her throat. She cooed and tilted her head back. Her feet felt like they were twisting and spinning. Her heart was delightfully busy. Saliva oozed on her skin.

The mouth popped away.

"Little Princess."

Rahela woke up to the sound of her little sister whining about wanting breakfast.

She stretched her limbs, groaned, and rubbed an eye.

And she mentally told herself to forget that ridiculous dream.

***

Ureche wanted to spend a few moments rubbing her nose and face all over Rahela's head. She also managed to snatch up one of Rahela's braids with her teeth, give a few light chews, and then spit it back out. Rahela had to stand in front of the mule, sternly meet her eyes, and firmly say no to remind her to behave well.

The Emperor had laughed at the moment. It was the sort of laugh Rahela would expect to accompany a slap on the back.

It was a group of eight riding people. Three boys on horses, squires and page. Three girls on horses, ladies-in-waiting and maid-in-waiting. The Emperor on a steed that looked like he'd never gone a day without practicing some combat ready poses. Rahela on her adorable mule, Ureche the spotted darling.

It was a cold morning. Another day closer to the end of winter. Closer to the Emperor's birthday and Rahela's first appearance at the Imperial Court. Rahela knew that her position would be different from what had been previously described, at least temporarily. She'd have to serve as a witness for Tarmo Ammas' case. Then she'd go back to the scholars to work with them.

That was what Rahela was thinking about as they all followed the Emperor away from the stables. They were in for a lengthy, chilly ride. They had to go all the way to the hunting grounds, the private forest, but they weren't about to hunt. It was only meant to be a pleasant ride. Once they were at the gate, several mounted guards arrived to escort them, making the group even larger.

Soon, she had to stop thinking very much about the future. The Emperor started another long story about one of his accomplishments. He even insisted that Rahela translate every few minutes for Gabi, which made the story even longer. Rahela could tell that Gabi wasn't interested. The little girl was pouting and occasionally rolling her eyes. Rahela had to remind her to keep a blank face.

The trees looked so raw and dry.

"It was quite a challenge," the Emperor said at one point, "they had excellent horses. Their mobility was their greatest advantage, but we fought on."

A pause. Rahela translated those statements for Gabi.

The Emperor picked up a flask of water from his belt and took a few gulps. Then, as he reattached the flask, he looked back at Rahela just long enough to catch her eyes. "Are you tired?"

"No, My Lord." Rahela lightly coughed into an elbow, keeping her grip on the reigns secure.

Shrugging, the Emperor said. "We'll turn back after I tell you about the surprise attack."

Rahela took a sip from her own flask in preparation.

When his second story was finally done, Rahela was jaded, but she was a patient sort of person. They rode back towards the Imperial Castle in what was mostly silence. The Emperor might've wanted a break for his lungs and throat. It felt blessed.

Letting herself have her own delight, Rahela quietly gazed at the bare trees. Bitter scenery was rolling along. A worthy subject for an artist. But even better, a worthy sight to take in as naturally as possible, with one's own eyes.

In the distance ...

A black bear?

Rahela frowned. Her forehead wrinkled. The pale puffs escaping her lips seemed to quicken their pace.

That figure was too thin to be a bear.

There was a skirt!

Rahela almost slumped over. Oksana and Gabi both called out to her. The Emperor looked back and asked, "Little Princess, are you unwell?"

"Ah! It's the cold!" She reached up to pat her own cheek. "My body is too tender for this weather. I'm not hoping for snow."

"You're an unfortunate woman, then," the Emperor said. "Snow will come soon, perhaps even tomorrow. When it does, you must eat well to warm your belly, or else you'll forever be frozen. Seeds don't grow well in cold soil."

Rahela jolted as if she'd been shocked.

There were children around! How dare he say something so sexual?!

But when she heard Oksana ask why the Emperor was talking about farming all of a sudden, and when she heard Yana stammer out an uncertain reply, Rahela calmed herself.

"My Lord is very wise," she said.