Shadow of the Sun Ch. 11

When I awake, I'm a different me again.

But where Helena took a pallet knife to the canvas of my mind, scraping away vast swaths of paint with absolute precision, Eshe used a rounded brush to blend and pick up color. I could tell the difference from the moment they began. Eshe's sorcery felt like an act of care, draping over my conscious mind and suffusing me with calm rather than overwhelming me until they got their way.

And so when I regain my wits, I'm neither frozen in place nor unaware of who I am. Instead, I feel delicate, as if emotions have loosened within me and may spill out at the lightest touch. It's an oddly pleasant sort of vulnerability. The fact that Eshe thought I was worthy of such kindness even after everything they saw inside my head...leaves me without words.

I settle for a show of gratitude instead, burying my face in their chest and wrapping my arms as far as I can around their waist. Theirs is a comforting smell, one of cardamom and freshly tilled soil, and their warmth does wonders to shield me from the morning chill. In the dim light provided by cracks and holes in the manor's boarded windows, I can make out the deep red of their uniform and the peaceful expression on their face as they sleep.

"My hero," I whisper.

Their breath serves as a pleasant metronome, marking the relaxed tempo of the moment. What I wouldn't give to spend all day nestled up against them like this, the outside world forgotten in favor of safety and companionship. Sadly, it's not to be. Francine will return before long to take me back to the palace lest we raise any suspicion, and I have to make a plan before then. So while my body basks in comfort, my mind begins wandering to the hours and days ahead.

I have to escape. There's no possible outcome I can imagine where Helena allows me to remain who I am; the memories I have from my time as Vera prove that She sees me less as a person and more as a project. Truly getting out from under Her talons means going as far as I can as soon as I can, minimizing the time I spend under Her scrutiny or within the reach of Her influence. A slow and methodical approach is out of the question, then. Whatever I do will have to be messy enough that I can slip away in the chaos, but not so messy that I get caught in the process.

Unfortunately, I'll likely be on my own—Francine's extremely limited pool of goodwill seems to have run out, and I've nothing more to offer her in exchange for such a high-risk ask. Paolo or Eshe might be more willing but will have little to no access to the palace due to their associations. Which leaves me and only me to navigate a castle filled with automata, guards, and an obsessive sorceress. Then, I'll have to arrange for transport through an occupied city while avoiding Helena's pursuers, all of whom will likely have magical assistance from the Queen.

Or I could kill Her.

The idea pops into my head quite naturally. Seems Eshe's sorcery unlocked some of my older...tendencies. I'm not sure how to feel about that.

It wouldn't be hard. I sleep in Her bed, for gods' sake. And if I could slip away in the ensuing chaos, whoever remained would be far too concerned with power-grabbing to track me down.

It's an idea. But surely there are others. I could bribe a servant to carry me out with the laundry, for example.

None are foolish enough to risk Helena's wrath. And bribe them with what money?

Maybe not, then. I could start a fire to serve as a distraction?

Helena's a sorceress. She could put it out with a wave of Her hand.

Trick some automata into escorting me out?

How in the world would I do that? Terrible idea. Stupid.

...Fake my own death?

Nobody would blame me for killing Her. It's not like before—this would be strictly self-defense.

There has to be another way.

Do I want to maximize my chances of escape or not? Because if I do, this is no time to get squeamish.

Before I can bring the thought to its inevitable conclusion, Eshe stirs beneath me.

"Veronica?"

"Mm?" I keep my face buried in their tunic, still mired in macabre contemplation.

"Are you awake?" they mumble.

"Mhm."

Their cold hand on my cheek guides me to make eye contact, the soft touch impossible for me to deny.

"Did I break your brain?" The tiniest hint of a smile dances across their full lips.

I giggle in spite of myself. "Not that I can tell."

"Good." They lean their head back against the wall. We look at each other for a few brief seconds, their mellow demeanor failing to assuage the guilt growing inside me. I was just planning a gods-damned murder a moment ago, after all. How can they be so at ease around me after learning about everything I've done?

"Eshe?"

"Yes?"

I have to ask. My own fantasies aside, Eshe has to have a more practical reason for saving me than merely being heroic. "Why help me? I know Francine and Paolo's reasons, but..."

Eshe frowns. "But what?"

I bite my lower lip, anxiety forming a tangled knot inside my chest. "What exactly are you getting out of this?"

"Oh." The knight plays with my hair while pondering the question, twirling and untwirling locks around their index finger. After a , they throw out an off-handed response. "I slept soundly for the first time in weeks."

"...That's it?" I was right: It's not a satisfying answer.

"That's it."

"No brokered deal or traded favor?"

"Nope. Paolo was surprised by how quickly I agreed, actually." They let out a big yawn.

I furrow my brow. Are they toying with me? "A strategic move for the Order, then."

"No, Veronica, I just wanted to help you. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes!" I cry out, thoroughly vexed. "Nobody in their right mind would defy Berinni and Helena alike for my sake alone. Francine did it for information, Paolo I'm sure worked something out with her. Everything is political, Eshe. Don't pretend otherwise."

Eshe appears distant for a long moment, their jaw set. I watch with bated breath as they process my objection, evidence of some internal struggle clear upon their face. When they finally speak, each word is careful and exact as if spoken before a judge.

"You're right. I suppose it's about time I stop lying to myself."

As much as I expected that answer, it still triggers a cascade of grief. I knew it. I am not worth saving; not without some other tangible benefit.

Eshe continues their explanation. "When last we met, you came to me in need—with your own self-serving motives, no doubt, but in need nonetheless. My duty to the Order stopped me from aiding you then. Who was I to threaten our mission for the sake of one woman?" They shake their head. "But look where that mission has gotten us now: spreading disorder for coin like common bandits."

A sigh escapes their lips as they run their fingers along knots in the floorboards. The look of exhaustion on their face is soul-deep. "Doubt is not frowned upon within the Order; it is necessary to confront and work through so one might reinvigorate their faith. Yet while my faith in Sol remains unshaken, my doubts about the Order have resisted pruning and deepened their roots. Everything has come into question. All the grim deeds and difficult choices I've committed to for the sake of the Order..." Their voice cracks. They swallow and try again. "Was it all just to line our pockets?"

As their nails begin digging into a patch of rotten wood, I grab their hand, hold it to my chest, and squeeze. Such vulnerability from the knight is unexpected but not unwelcome—they've accepted mine with grace and understanding, and I'm more than eager to return the favor. I hope they recognize that sentiment when they force themself to look into my eyes.

"Perhaps saving you is my attempt to take a stand and right one of my many wrongs. Perhaps that makes it political." They put their hands on my shoulders. "But I'm certain about one thing: You're a searching soul, Veronica, not a lost one. I've met enough of both to know the difference. And political act or not, I wouldn't have helped you if I thought you were truly lost."

Their speech provides much more than the 'light touch' necessary to bring forth a whole symphony of emotion. Tears of gratitude, more joyous giggles, and smoldering arousal erupt all at once from me, matching a similar (if far more subdued) display from Eshe once they recognize the positivity of my outburst.

I lean forward and give them a chaste kiss. "I misjudged your intentions, Ser knight, and for that I apologize."

They shrug. "Think nothing of it. I wasn't being entirely honest anyways."

With utmost enthusiasm, I wave my hand dismissively and roll my eyes. "You're the most honest person I think I've ever met. I'm rather fond of it, in fact."

"Is that so? Personally, I'm rather charmed by your flair for the dramatic," they respond, mimicking the formality of my speech.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I stick out my tongue.

Eshe grins. "Uh-huh. I'm sure the detours and flourishes of your oratory are necessities in the face of such complex and brilliant ideas."

I playfully shove them as hard as I can. They don't budge. Undeterred, I wiggle on their lap until I'm pressed up against them, straddling their thigh. "Now listen here, Ser. I will not accept such mockery from a common soldier. You wouldn't know cultured speech if it forced its way down your throat."

"I defer to your expertise in having things forced down your throat." Eshe's arms now roam freely across my back and sides, leaving trails of tingling warmth in their wake. I swat them away and put a finger up to their lips.

"That's quite enough from you, Ser." A bolt of excitement runs through me when I see their eyes widen in surprise. "From now on, you will address me by my proper title and speak only when spoken to, as is befitting of someone so low in status. Do I make myself clear?"

Their mouth opens wide in shock.

"I said, do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes, Lady Veronica. Crystal."

"Good." I casually brush a piece of dust off their shoulder and shift my feet under my bottom for the height necessary to look down my nose at them. "Onto practical matters, then. When last we met, I seem to remember us leaving a bit of business unfinished. Do you know what I'm referring to, commoner?"

"I, uh. Yes?" Their nervous stammering and difficulty holding eye contact make my sex clench in delight; they are absolutely fucking adorable. "I mean, yes, Lady Veronica," they hurriedly add.

"Describe it, if you will." My fingers trail up their neck, pause, and then run through their tight curls once they give me a small nod.

"We, ah...kissed?" Eshe clears their throat. "You seemed very excited, especially when I touched you."

"Were you excited?"

"I believe so, Lady Veronica."

"Are you excited now?"

"Yes, Lady Veronica," they whisper. I can tell: their cheeks are flushed, their eyes glassy and their lips hanging open slightly. It's a look I've worn many times before.

"Good; as am I," I lean forward and murmur into their ear. They shudder. "Shall we address this unfinished business, then?"

"Yes, Lady Veronica. I mean, I would like that. Lady Veronica."

I smile wide and speak with as much honey and vinegar as I can muster. "There's my good, brave knight." One of my hands finds the hem of their tunic and slips beneath it, running along the contours of their sculpted abdomen. "Such strength, and yet so easily controlled. I should have known; little knights like you love following orders."

Eshe gasps and squirms as I reach to cup one of their breasts.

"Is this what you secretly hope for every time you bed another lover? That one of them might realize how meek and pathetic you really are?"

"N-no, Lady Veronica. I mean, I...I don't...aah!" Their blabbering is cut off easily with a sharp pinch of their nipple.

"I've no patience for lies, Eshe."

"Maybe? I don't know, I...it feels nice sometimes, that's all!" They squeeze their eyes shut in embarrassment.

"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate, little knight." I punctuate the words with a bit of nibbling along their earlobe, which they melt into immediately.

Eshe lets out a long, barely audible moan of aroused despair. It does not elicit any pity; I've no intention of letting them off easy. I'd forgotten how wonderful the rush of power feels. Not that I'm tempted to seek it out once more, of course.

Not from the unwilling, anyways. Making Eshe a blushing, whimpering mess with nothing but light teasing is too fun to give up.

"It's nice..." they begin, the words slipping out between gasped breaths, "...nice not to...not to have to be everything. Sometimes."

"Then you're in luck, little knight. Because to me, you're little more than a mouth." I slide off of their lap and hike up my dress, exposing my glistening sex to the cool morning air. "Now come show your Lady how devoted you are."

Eshe rolls over onto their stomach and shifts to put their head between my thighs, keeping their eyes fixed on the floor all the while. I grab onto their hair again and gently tug them forward until their lips rest against my sex. For a moment, I keep them on that precipice, content to watch their nostrils flare and their eyelids flutter as they take in my scent and eagerly await my taste. But only for a moment. I am not a patient woman.

"Begin," I snap, and their strong wide tongue darts out of their mouth in an instant. What follows is a show of cunnilingus impressive enough that I can barely find anything to critique—they read my reactions well, then use them as a guide to add or reduce pressure and to tend closer or further from my clit.

In spite of the rolling swells of pleasure their tongue sends through me, though, I still make a point to criticize their form. "Look me in the eyes, little knight. This is exactly where you belong, and I don't want you to forget it for a single second. All those years spent clamoring for respect and prestige, and you're still barely fit to be my cunt-licker. How does that feel, hmm?"

"Mmnn!" Eshe's wide eyes convey utmost adoration as they tongue my sex. I grind against them, dirtying their face even more and making it impossible for them to control the pace.

"And perhaps if you're—nngh!—a very good cunt-licker, I'll let you touch yourself from time to time. Goodness knows I won't do it. Such—aah!—dirty work is not suitable for a proper Lady." My teasing becomes interspersed with growls and moans as the tingling warmth of an oncoming orgasm builds. I feel my hopes building with it. Perhaps Eshe enabled me to climax at will once again?

The pleasure builds, tightens, and concentrates within me to a fantastic crescendo, and then it...dissipates.

"Aaargh!" I scream, pulling on Eshe's hair. "You couldn't figure out how to make me come? Are you joking?"

They look puzzled for a moment, then smile sheepishly. "Oh, you wanted to come?"

"Don't take that tone with me, you—"

"Then come."

My vision blurs and my toes curl as the force of the orgasm wrenches control away from me. My limbs tense and relax repeatedly as part of a full-body tremor, and my voice cascades from a high-pitched squeal all the way down to a deep groan. I desperately hold on as long as I can to each surge of pleasure until they've all passed and I'm little more than a spent mess crumpled on the floor.

"Fuck. That's...you're...satisfactory," I concede. "But only if you hug me tight immediately."

"Of course, Lady Veronica." Eshe sneaks a bit of smug satisfaction into their voice as they pull me close. I'll punish them for it later. Probably.

"Hmph." I lean up to kiss them, tasting the musk of my arousal on their lips. "Did you...do you have to give permission?"

Eshe holds in a laugh. "Not just me. Anyone. Was easier than removing the block altogether. Besides, someone needs to keep you in check, my Lady."

I stuff my face in the crook of their neck and let out an exaggerated groan. The spot proves remarkably comfortable, though, and so I end up staying that way while the floaty buzz of afterglow works its way out of my body.

"How sweet," Francine calls out dryly from the entrance hall. Eshe and I both jump in surprise and pull away from one another as she enters, her heeled boots clacking against the scuffed hardwood floor. "Very professional of you, Knight-Lieutenant." She passes Eshe a handkerchief, one they grudgingly accept after a long glare.

"Lady Francine."

"Morning," I mumble, still worn out by the orgasm.

Francine sniffs. "Good morning to you both as well. The time has come to depart."

Eshe gathers their materials as I get back onto my feet and compose myself, numbness engulfing me as reality sets in. Some grim deeds and difficult choices of my own yet await. Recognizing we've neither the time nor the privacy for an extended goodbye, my savior and I settle on exchanging hand squeezes and heartfelt looks.

"Stay safe, Veronica."

With my future so uncertain, their words can't help but ring hollow.

"You as well, Eshe."

*****

I kneel perfectly straight, vision obscured by Helena's lacy blindfold. Her fingers occasionally reach down to brush through my hair, making me shudder every time, but I am otherwise absolutely still. Helena likes me this way, and Vera would want to do exactly as Her Majesty likes.

The familiar scent of parchment and radiating warmth of flame indicates we're beside the east parlor's fireplace, with Helena on my right in what is likely a tall armchair. She's enjoyed retiring here in the evenings for the past few days to unwind from the hectic negotiations—grueling affairs that only seem to have gotten more complex given the general mood in the palace. I really can't be sure, though. Most of my time is spent far away from where anything relevant occurs, which has made finding an ideal opening to take advantage of rather difficult.

Five days I've been back in the palace with my mind in one piece; five days of playing up my submission and hoping nobody notices a shift in my behavior. I suspect Celeste already knows something has changed within me, though she's remained discreet, thank the gods. Helena, on the other hand, hasn't had the energy to notice. She's happy just to have me by Her side so She can relax by doting on me.

It's frustrating, really. If She was tormenting me, it would make what I have to do much easier. Whatever subtle strands of Her magic remain aren't helping either—the pleasant shudders and warmth I feel from submitting to Her are genuine, and I can't stop the upsides of my situation from regularly flashing through my mind.

So long as I'm with Her, I'm protected. Cared for. Loved, if a bit intensely. What awaits me outside? If I want to escape Her, I can't stay in Niol. I'll have to go someplace I've never lived before, someplace I don't know anyone. I'll have nothing. Nobody.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared to leave. But Celeste's suspicions only prove how dangerous it is for me to stay any longer.

The time to act has come.

"Well, sweetness," Helena says softly, kissing me on the temple. I smile in Her general direction. "I suppose we ought to get to bed, hmm?"

"Yes, Miss Helena." Leaning indulgently into another head pat, I nudge my forehead against the armrest of Her chair and shift my blindfold ever so slightly. A sliver of the floor becomes visible from the bottom.

"Up!"

I stand. Helena takes me by the hand—the right hand. Good.

"Follow!"

Six steps into our journey back to the royal chambers, I see the leg of a desk in my limited sight line. I purposefully clip my foot against it, stumbling and placing my left palm flat on the desktop to steady myself.