Sorcerer's Treasure Ch. 08

There were no words to describe the relief that had washed over her with the same profoundness that her long-awiated climax had. Delia stared up at the ceiling, the old but sturdy wooden beans looking almost black in the gentle glow of the lamps. Her body sunk into the tub until just her head and hands were above the water, and she let the heat soak into her trembling limbs. Hot water in winter was much rarer than cool water in the summer, and she was determined to not let this opportunity go to waste.

With a few back and forth movements of her knee, she dissipated the traces of her cum, and reached over the side of the tub to the ledge she knew was there. A couple of drops of oil were carefully dripped into the tub, letting the sharp yet soothing scent of citrus waft into the air. She'd always enjoyed the scent and flavor of citrus fruit, and it was always such a treat for her when the kitchen made lemon bars or orange cream cakes for a celebration.

After some consideration, she added a couple of drops of jasmine and rosemary, and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth. It was definitely better than taking a bucket of water with her to her small room and giving herself a sponge bath, never being completely naked as the rooms were far too cold this time of the year for that.

Her hands slid along her body, and she shivered as she ran her fingers along the shaft of her now limp flesh. She was exhausted yet still on edge, with an odd mixture of numbness and sensitivity in her affected areas. The door to the washroom was slightly ajar, but Cedric was nowhere to be seen.

Many would say she had no reason to complain. She was well-fed and cared for, kept in comfort and given more than a modicum of freedom and education, even if Cedric had no direct hand in much of that. Given such care, sex was a fair exchange in the eyes of many. Pragmatic folks would consider it a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Her hand slid down to the ring around her balls. It had never actually hurt her and was what he had promised - responsive to her body - it still felt odd to her, especially if she touched herself down there. It was a foreign object to her even after all this time. This has to come off, she told herself. It was a constant reminder of what she was to Cedric, and even though no one else could see it or know it was there, it was just as bad to her as having a collar around her neck.

She took a sponge and started ministering to herself, relishing the feel of the hot water against her skin, feeling a twinge of envy against Cedric for his considerable magical talents. She didn't doubt she was the only one who felt that way, however. Magicians could all too easily become objects of envy and scorn, especially if they used their abilities to cause mischief or lord it over others. Her grandmother was careful to augment her own talent with actual knowledge of medicine, learning as much as she could from other healers who had no magical skill.

When the water had cooled down to a point where its temperature no longer soothed her, she climbed out of the tub and dried herself with a towel before putting on the dressing robe that hung on a hook near the towels. It was of a heavy black satin, and while too big on her since it belonged to Cedric, it was very comfortable. She tied it closed before going to the mirror and pulling her hair out of its braid, running her fingers through her messy locks to beat them into some semblance of order before re-braiding. She took a deep breath as she stared at her reflection before approaching the door.

She slowly pulled it open and stepped through it, seeing him sitting on the divan in front of a newly-stoked fire, his back to her. Slowly, she approached the side of the divan, seeing him in profile, his expression distant and thoughtful.

"Come sit with me," he whispered as he glanced over at her, patting the empty space next to him. She shook her head in a negative response, and he raised his eyebrow.

"Take it off me," she demanded.

"What?" His eyes moved along her body, making her feel self-conscious even though she was well-covered in his robe. A small smirk crept across his lips, and she could see just where his imagination was going. She hmmphed and crossed her arms.

"Not the robe, Cedric! The ring!" To her disappointment, he started to protest.

"I put that on you for your pleasure..."

"You put it on me to control me! Like earlier tonight, when your letter didn't work, so you used the ring to force me to come to you."

"How else was I supposed to get you to come here?"

"I didn't want to!" Delia snapped with exasperation. "Just because you want something doesn't give you the right to make others do it!"

Cedric was quiet for several moments, stroking his goatee. Finally, he fixed his eyes onto hers, holding her gaze.

"Would you have been truly happy if I had never taken you to my bed?" he argued in a tone obviously meant to keep the conversation calm. She narrowed her eyes.

"That's not the point." Delia didn't doubt that Cedric was skillful at maneuvering himself in Court, but that didn't mean she had to like, or appreciate it when he did the same to her. "And I don't want to hear you whining about how lonely and needy you were without me!" she added quickly.

"Whining?" Cedric asked, with a small snort.

"Don't think that I don't know about your other lovers! You had however many opportunities to find satisfaction with other partners. You were... are normal! I'm not! I wish I hadn't been born this way, but I was, and I had to accept it, and the limitations that came with it! If the wrong person knew, my life would be a living hell! You've had however many partners, and I didn't have that option!" She blinked back tears, not wanting to break down in front of him. "And you feel the need to punish me for that? To make me beg for forgiveness? Go to hell!"

"Delia..." Cedric rose to his feet, reaching out to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You needn't have been afraid to tell me..."

"How was I supposed to know that?" she snapped, jerking free of his embrace. "It's not something that people would easily... accept, or forget. You could have just as easily been disgusted and repulsed by it as you were.;.. fascinated by it."

"Delia..." He let out a low sigh.

"Don't try to justify anything you've done. I don't care who or what you are. Your status and power mean nothing to me. I respected you before for your intellect and kindness towards me."

The corners of his lips tugged into a faint smile. "I know."

"Well, I no longer respect you," she replied coolly, staring levelly at him. His smile froze before his lips curved downward. "What happened... I don't even want to be friends with you anymore. I no longer desire any sort of relationship with you, and you have only yourself to blame for it. So take it off, now." Her heart was pounding as she silently prayed that he would do just as she asked, and not cause any trouble for her. A man in his position could make life here untenable for her.

"I do care about you, Delia." He reached out to touch her cheek, but she turned away.

"If what you say is true, then you will prove it." she said, her voice soft, but steely. He was silent for several moments, and she held her breath, silently praying that he would do as she asked.

"Very well. I will remove it."

She turned back to him, seeing him staring at her with a neutral expression. He closed the distance between them, and slid his hand past the edges of the robe she was wearing, and she couldn't help but feel her shoulders stiffen as she felt his palm against her groin. His fingers pressed against the ring, and she was not aware she had been holding her breath until he pulled his hand from under the material, the firelight reflecting on the polished metal.

Even though the ring had never been of any considerable weight, she still felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders, or in this case, elsewhere. She took a step back, as if she was afraid that he might slip it back on her.

"I need to leave." She didn't relish the thought of spending the night in a room that, with the deep cold outside, would be chilly at the very least.

"What? Spend the night with me. I removed the ring and your other bindings, what more do you need?" he demanded.

"Time to myself. Oh, and a new dress would be nice, since you ruined that and my chemise and breast bindings, as you will recall." She crossed her arms. "However, I will accept a tunic and undershirt."

"You do look good in my clothing," Cedric shot back. All he received in return was a deadpan stare. A small huff made its way from his throat before he entered his bedchamber, returning with a plain white undershirt and a long-sleeved tunic of fine dark gray wool. "Will these do?" he asked. She gave the garments a cursory glance and nodded.

"Good." He set the clothing on the arm of the divan and beckoned to her. "Please come to bed with me. I wish for the pleasure and comfort of your company."

"I would sooner be by myself," Delia replied, mistrusting of the sorcerer and his motives. She knew she would sleep much better when she was a good distance from him.

"There's nothing I can do to convince you to stay?" Cedric asked as she strode past him to collect the rest of her clothing. She remained silent as she pulled on her smallclothes before pulling her pants up, keeping the robe on as she did so, so as to not afford him any peek of her flesh. When it was time to dress the upper half of her body, she did so quickly, keeping her back to him. As she expected, his clothing fit her very loosely, but was nonetheless comfortable, and the tunic was plain enough that no one should question where she had gotten it from.

Before she could pull her boots on, Cedric was at her side again. "Please don't leave me like this." He reached out to touch her face, and she quickly pulled away before he could. Pulling on her cloak, she made her way to the door, pausing as she saw the lock. She'd seen him work it a couple of times, so she reached for the small handle and turned it, relieved when it gave way.

"Delia..."

"Good night," she replied firmly before he could say anything further, and she quickly exited the room.

o0o

As the year was approaching its end, the librarians were set to task at cataloging the books and taking inventory, making sure that all books old and new were accounted for, and adding this year's acquisitions to the bibliography. It was a undertaking that commenced in the twelfth month of every year, and something Delia was familiar with. Hilde was with her, and as a relatively new librarian. Delia worked as her mentor.

"Ugh, why don't the patrons take better care of these books?" the blonde snorted as she picked up a book, displaying several smudges on its cover. Delia sighed and shook her head as she took the book, seeing there were a few more along several pages of the book as if someone had read it while eating a greasy dinner.

"At least it's not an antique," Delia muttered as she noted the damage to the book on the sheaf of papers she had attached to a ledger. At the moment, she and Hilde were looking over the novels, and while a book was by no means cheap, at least the novels were easier to produce, and there were usually two or three copies of the more popular titles. There were also re-printings of old classics, and the advent of the printing press was a boon to librarian and casual reader alike, making books easier to obtain, and old texts made accessible.

However, it didn't gall Delia or the other librarians any less when a patron treated a book with casual disregard. This was no ordinary library, and the people that utilized this resource were generally either of the noble or scholarly classes.

"If I could find the nit who keeps leaving smudges on these books, I would give them a good what-for!" Hilde said, shaking her fist. Delia smiled, sharing the sentiment. The novels were more popular among the nobles, who read these books for entertainment, losing themselves in tales of romance, daring, adventure, and peril. Such books were also an interest amongst the servants, at least to those who had the ability to read, and the inclination to spend their free time with their nose buried in a book.

"As long as they stay away from the antique books..." Delia shrugged and they continued along the shelf, doing a cursory check of each book. After a while, it was time for nuncheon.

There were cold cuts, cheese, and bread, along with a cobbler made from apple preserves. The women retreated to a quiet corner of the room, balancing the plates in their laps.

"I just realized, you never told me how your... meeting with Garrick went," Delia prompted gently. She'd been gone for several days, after all.

"Hmmph." Hilde muttered before taking a bite out of her sandwich.

"I take that to mean it didn't go well?"

"Delia... I know I'm not too pleasant to look at," the other woman replied after she'd swallowed her bite. Delia had to stop herself from wincing, already guessing where this was going. "It's something I've had to accept ever since the accident. I've done my best to make up for it, and prove that I'm more than just my face."

"A man who would judge you on that is not worth your time," Delia replied, trying to reassure her friend.

Hilde let out a small snort. "So my mother would tell me, but Garrick..." She shook her head. "I found him, and asked him if there was anything he needed. He wouldn't look at me, so I wondered if he might just be embarrassed. You know how men are with not wanting to admit weaknesses..."

The dark-haired woman smiled a bit and nodded. "Wouldn't the world be a better place if men weren't like that?"

"Hah. Only if. Anyway, I said that I'd read that book myself, and I would be happy to answer any questions he had. After all, as I told him, it is my duty as a librarian."

That was smart, Delia mused. Offer help, but point out that it is your duty to offer assistance to anyone who might enter the hallowed halls of the library. It did help some of the more reticent patrons be more willing to reach out to a librarian for help, and as Davin pointed out, librarians shouldn't just categorize knowledge, they should also make it accessible. But then, Davin should know, since he'd been a librarian for over sixty years, and head librarian for almost thirty.

"I take it he still refused your help."

"Yes." Hilde scowled. "He was so rude! He would not look at me once, and told me he could manage by himself before he waved his hand..." At this, she lifted her hand in the air in what was obviously an imitation of Garrick's gesture. It was the kind of dismissal that a noble would give to a lowly servant.

"Ugh." Delia rolled her eyes. "Well, the problem is his, not yours. He's just a spoiled noble brat. And just remember, noble blood doesn't make you intelligent."

Hilde smiled at that. "But my father is a nobleman!" she shot back in mock offense.

"So you are noble and intelligent. More than a match for Garrick Gilly, see?"

Hilde let out a laugh before she collected herself. "It has been lovely having you here as my mentor. It took some time getting used to... living like this. I mean, it's not a bad life at all, but it was a definite change from my father's manse."

Delia nodded. Though she and Hilde come from families that were at different social and financial strata, she understood what the other woman meant. It'd been scary leaving her grandmother, and settling into her duties here, especially with the concern over keeping her uniqueness a secret. She almost didn't believe it when the Prince had chosen her to be one of his librarians after his interview with her, and had done her best to prove to him that he had made a wise choice.

"I know what you mean." Delia took a bite of her sandwich, chewing it as she became lost in thought, thinking of her past and future. She'd had an overall pleasant tenure here as one of the royal librarians, but she was not sure if she wanted to remain here for the rest of her life. There were servants who spent nearly their whole lives in the Palace, and were content with that, but Delia had no desire to simply be another name in a seemingly endless list of Sapphire Point residents and staff. She thought of her talk with her grandmother, and the upcoming New Year's. What sort of possibilities were open to her? What could she pursue that would bring her happiness, or at least stability and contentment?

o0o

Spring can't come soon enough, Delia mused as she lay under several of her grandmother's quilts, curled up on her small bed within the library apartments. The shutters had been bolted shut, and she'd stuffed any possible opening with bits of scrap paper, to keep out the cold.

Pressing the soles of her feet to the bed-warmer, Delia couldn't help but think of the comforts of Cedric's bedchamber, where there was always a fire blazing, the room, and the bed, oh so warm and inviting...

Damn. She gave out a small huff as she pulled one of the quilts partway over her head. It was something she would have to accept. She'd lived in this particular room for several years now, and had grown used to it. Winters were easy enough as long as she remained in the library or other warmer areas of the Palace, retiring to her room only when she was tired enough to sleep. If she'd lived through several winters in this room, she could endure another one...

Thinking about Cedric's bedchamber only made her feel all the more cold, and she shivered in frustration. Be strong, be strong, she told herself. The ring was gone, and she had her dignity back. Nothing could buy dignity, but damn if she couldn't help but wish she was in Cedric's bed, with its soft mattress, and thick comforters, and the sorcerer's body pressed against her own...

Her body responded to her private longings, warmth starting to seep through her core as she felt her cock start to harden. She tried to ignore it, and pull her thoughts towards other matters, like the work she'd done today in the library, and the work yet to be done. However, it seemed that the harder she tried to not think about Cedric, the more that damnable man haunted her thoughts, teasing her with the memories of the pleasure he'd given her.

Books she'd read and languages she'd learned, the words blurred together while Cedric came to the forefront of her reminiscing, his face in clear focus, his gaze illustrating his desire. She could not help but recall how his hands and lips had moved along her body, and how expertly he'd handled all of her parts. Her smallclothes felt too tight and confining, and she reached down with a hand to cup her groin, pressing her palm against it.

Even with the ring gone, it appeared as if she wasn't completely free of Cedric. Her hand kneaded her groin idly for several moments as she considered her next course of action.

Fuck it. The hem of her nightshirt slid up her thighs before she loosened her drawers, reaching within and pulling out her semi-hard organ. It hardened further once it was free of its confines, and she let her fingers trail along it lazily, taking her time. As she felt her fingernails lightly scrape along the underside of the throbbing organ, memories of Cedric doing the very same thing sent a fresh ache through her loins.

Delia shifted around, creating a small but comfortable space between her groin and the blanket by lying partially on her side. Keeping the quilts tucked firmly under her chin, she continued her languid explorations. Her fingers slid down to her testicles, noting the absence of the ring. Returning to her cock, Delia slid her other hand into her underwear, past the root of her organ and the sac that sat snugly against it. As she'd anticipated, her pussy was as wet as her cock was hard, and she slid her fingers along the outer lips, feeling the slickness that seeped from within.