The Best Medicine Ch. 06

"I think I like her," the future Queen had said. And that had been that. Trina had been cleaned up, trained, and then given the duty of watching over the inheritor of their royal blood.

Trina's smiled faded, causing the Shepherd to ask what was wrong. "I love her. I love Vanesse."

The Shepherd sat quietly for a moment, a little bit stunned. He was not sure why, but he was not as surprised as he should have been. "Does she know?"

"Yes. And . . . please forgive me, but when we shared her mind we . . . became intimate."

"In . . . her mind?"

"Yes sir."

"And she consented?"

"Of course. I could not imagine trying to force --"

"I never said you did, nor could I believe such a thing of you. If she consented, then what is the problem?"

Trina looked up. "I'm her . . . I WAS her battle-dancer. I could not afford to compromise her safety for my own selfish urges."

"I seriously doubt your urges were selfish," the Shepherd said, smiling warmly. "And had you not felt the way you did about her, then you might NOT be here with us today. And maybe you should look at being fired by the King as a blessing. As Vanesse's battle-dancer, your dalliances with the Princess would not have been tolerated. Now, as her friend, you could pursue a role as a consort." He paused. "You do realize that now that she understands the rules of her necromancy, she will need multiple partners."

"I would never stand between her and any pleasurable experience she seeks to pursue." Trina felt like blushing, but her body apparently had no such reflex anymore. "I just want to be one of them." She furrowed her eyebrows. "I thought you'd be angrier."

"Why? Because you desire my granddaughter? I disapproved of Vanesse's mother at first, and look how that turned out."

"You did?"

"I thought she was . . . well, a tad impetuous."

"That word is getting thrown around a lot tonight."

The Shepherd outright grinned. "Yes, well anyway, I think that I learned my lesson after that. I will not question the romantic choices of any of my lineage. Except for Tarrin, of course. His wife is a shrew."

Trina snickered. "She does have a serious stick up her butt. I . . . woah," she said, feeling a bit dizzy.

The Shepherd looked at her closely. "The sun is rising, and this vampire's body is very old and vulnerable to sunlight. You won't be hurt, but you're body is shutting down for the day. Let me help you to where you'll be staying." He stood up and helped her to her unsteady feet. As they headed towards the door, it opened.

"Jack?" Trina muttered, her eyes a bit blurry.

The muscular werehyena grinned at her. "You think switching bodies was going to make me go away?"

"I was hoping," she mumbled, but inwardly, she felt quite pleased. Her interplay with Jack had been more fun than she wanted to admit, and she had missed it.

"The Princess sent me to make sure she got back safely. I didn't know you guys would still be talking. Sir," Jack added unsure how to address a member of the Tribunal.

"Then I am in your debt," the Shepherd said, handing Trina over. "And tell the Princess --"

"She said she'd talk to you tonight," Jack interrupted, trying to talk while keeping Trina on her feet.

"Then for the message, I am doubly in your debt."

Jack escorted Trina back through the hallway and towards the Princess's rooms.

"Don't try anything funny," the former battle-dancer said.

"Everything I SAY is funny. I'm just a funny guy." Then more seriously, "You're pretty damn amazing, you know that? The world takes a crap on you, and you're still at your post."

"What a horribly romantic image."

"Hey, I'm a regular Romeo."

As Jack reached for the door, Trina put a hand on his wrist. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

A look of exaggerated surprise appeared on his face. "You? Thanking me? Okay, now I know that the real Trina has been replaced."

Trina forced herself to sigh, then dug one foot into the ground and hip-threw Jack down the hallway.

"You are so hot when you do that!" he said, his eyes wide. He had barely seen or felt her move.

Trina suppressed her smile as she went inside. Instantly, Vanesse appeared, stepping over the sleeping forms of her werehyena guards. Farmer was in the bed, but it did not look like anything carnal had been occurring.

"Tonight, I just want to sleep," Vanesse said, reading her friend's thoughts. "Now get undressed and come to bed."

"But Princess . . . Vanesse," Trina started to say, then realized her friend was paying no attention to her objection. In fact, the Princess was stripping Trina's clothes off.

"Hmm, I like your old body better, but this one is nice too," Vanesse said, trying to sound objective.

A now naked Trina flopped onto the bed. "Breasts are too big. Gonna make it hard to fight and zzzzzzzzzzz." Trina had fallen asleep mid-sentence.

Vanesse smiled, then climbed back into bed, her arm draped over Trina's waist, while Farmer scooted closer and put her longer arm over them both. And for the first time in a long time, Princess Vanesse Bellethial slept well.

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The next night . . .

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Vanesse sat quietly in a small conference room, fidgeting with the sleeves of the gorgeous robes that Lord Stapleton had provided. Farmer stood outside the door, along with a dozen members of Joker's Wild, as well as the Alpha. Those two being in close proximity to each other had made Vanesse nervous, considering how close the two had come to a fight for dominance. But Farmer did not want the Alpha's position, and she acknowledged to him that she had little to no chance of taking it. A bottle of beer and a show of respect was all it took for the two to start talking like old friends.

The Alpha's other "old friend," namely the Shepherd, was sitting across the table from Vanesse, quiet and still as only a polished politician could do. He was nervous, but he did not show it. Vanesse wore her emotions on her immaculately sewn sleeves.

The Princess opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut quickly enough that her teeth clacked painfully together. She was angry, and her parents had taught her to never start a --

"This isn't a negotiation," the Shepherd told her. "If you need to yell at me, go ahead."

"I'm not giving you or anyone the satisfaction of me breaking down," she told him.

"You think I'm going to take satisfaction from your pain? Therein lies the difference between your uncle and I. We have both wronged you, as you so eloquently pointed out. The difference is that I did not mean to cause you pain or distress, and feel guilt that I did."

Vanesse gripped her fists, then relaxed. "Can you be honest with me? As in, stop being an elvish politician or Tribunal member and tell me the truth?"

He sighed. "You want to know what my involvement is in your kidnapping, don't you?"

She grimaced. "I want to know if you really tried. You know, to get a hold of me? Did you even consider trying to lay claim to me? I needed you," she added, her voice trembling.

The elvish statesman closed his eyes. "I wish I could say now that I had. But I didn't. I did not imagine at first that Tarrin would keep me from visiting you. He did at first, right after your parents funeral, but then . . . But I had so many responsibilities that I allowed myself to become blinded. Then when I wanted to visit you during Festival, he told me no. I was stunned. I appealed the elvish council, but they had granted sole custody to the King, and I had no power to do anything."

"You're a member of the Tribunal!"

"And the entire Tribunal would have supported me if they could. But your uncle broke no inter-species or Tribunal laws. While we have absolute power in some cases, we cannot violate any races sovereignty without just cause. Tarrin rejected every overture I made until you were twenty, and then . . . then you started rejecting them on your own."

Vanesse looked shaken. "He told me that you didn't care. He never said it outright, but he said that you were 'too busy' or 'couldn't be bothered.' He said that you didn't do anything when Mom and Dad . . . when --" She stopped, trying to compose herself.

The Shepherd's calm, almost subdued visage took on a much darker, more menacing tone. Someone seeing him right then would forget that he was old, even for an elf, or that he was a politician by trade. They would see a very powerful, very focused sorcerer who had once ruled the elvish race with absolute authority. "Didn't do anything? The cabal that had my son and his wife assassinated had violated so many laws by engaging in slavery that I and the Tribunal had been hunting them for years. I found the man who had ordered the execution. I personally ended his screaming by crushing his throat."

And for a moment, Vanesse was afraid of her grandfather. She believed him. His voice belayed a rage that simply could not be fabricated for the Princess's benefit. And in her life, she hoped never to see it again. Not from the older man who had once bounced her on his knee, looking on in strange delight as she giggled and held on to the balloon he had brought for her.

"You had that much power, then why didn't you find me sooner?"

"The laws of the elves and the Tribunal --"

"To the hells with the laws!" Vanesse said, standing and pounding the palms of her hands down on the table. "I'm you're granddaughter. Mom and Dad would have come for me, and to hell with the laws."

"Please, calm down. As I said, I tried --"

"You sent letters! Formal requests! If you really wanted to see me, you wouldn't have been writing up proposals as if they were territorial disputes."

The Shepherd stood up. "I have been looking for you with every resource at my disposal."

"Every resource you could use without getting caught, you mean," Vanesse snapped, her eyes tearing up despite her brain's orders for them not to. "I know how elvish politics works. Uncle Tarrin made sure of that part. You could do anything as long as it wasn't open and honest."

The Shepherd turned away. "I don't get to choose which laws I obey, Vanesse. I simply do not get that luxury. Once you join the Tribunal, you MUST put aside personal feelings. But even then," he added, his voice softening again, "I never forgot about you. I did what I could until I simply couldn't take it anymore. Then --"

"Don't say anything," Vanesse whispered. "I would hate for you to say something now that got you into trouble."

The Shepherd's shoulders rose and fell, and he turned back to his granddaughter. "I broke the rules to look for you. I won't implicate anyone else --"

The Alpha stuck his head in the door. "It was me. Just in case you were wondering. Guess who I sent?" When the Shepherd shot him a withering glare, he just shrugged. "What? She ain't stupid."

"I was trying to . . . oh why do I bother?"

"I dunno," the Alpha said, then stepped back and closed the door.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Vanesse snickered. When her grandfather looked at her, she could not help but smile. "I think I understand now what Trina must feel dealing with me. She tries to protect me, I screw everything up."

"I think that Trina is far more potent of a protector than I am. That, and the Alpha is considerably harder to kill than . . . well, anyone except possibly Shamira." He walked around the table, sat down next to Vanesse, and dared to take her hand. "I failed you. I had no idea how to act, or how to balance my life and my duty. All I have left to say in my defense is that I never meant to hurt you. I knew that you still had Trina, and I had faith in her."

"It was hard on her too. She's been through so much --"

"And I know her well enough that she doesn't regret it. She never saw looking over you as a 'duty' or a 'job.' She was thrilled."

"She . . . I . . . our relationship has gotten complicated."

"So I gather. She told me how she felt."

"Did she? Took her long enough to tell me," Vanesse grumbled.

"I've known her longer. She was a good kid. She's a good woman, and I'm glad that you too are as close as you are."

Vanesse felt a little surprised, but strangely elated. "Really? Even though we kinda . . . you know --"

"I'm not your uncle. I'm not your parents either, and I'm not Trina. I just want you to be happy, and I want you to be successful. Most importantly, I would like you to give an old elf a second chance."

The Princess leaned back in her chair and gave him a shrewd once-over. "If I say yes, it's only because Trina still likes you."

"Then that will have to do." The Shepherd stopped smiling though. "And I want you to know that I truly believe that your uncle had nothing to do with the attacks on you."

"He had too much opportunity --" Vanesse started to agree, but she was silenced by a hand.

"No, it was not a matter of opportunity. Tarrin is many things, but not a murderer, and he believes in the crown and royal blood. More than anyone, perhaps. He would never take the crown by assassination."

"Do you still love him?" Vanesse asked, remembering that the King was, like Vanesse's father, this man's son.

"Of course. I feel the need to borrow a human expression, which is, 'I don't like him, but I love him.' In his own way, he is just as invested in the future of our race as your parents were. Unfortunately, too much of his 'future' is based on the past."

Vanesse decided not to mention her own reservations about assuming the throne. The moment was actually too nice for that.

"So," the Shepherd said, feeling more light of heart than he had in ages, "we have fifteen years to catch up on. Where should we start?"

Elsewhere, Trina was stirring from what had turned out to be the most restful sleep she had ever experienced. She sat up and stretched, feeling a surge of relief as every muscle found its proper level of tension and then relaxed. 'At least Natasha was in good shape when she died.'

"Hubba hubba!"

She managed to roll her eyes without opening them. "And just like evening breath, why can't I wake up without you around?"

Jack chuckled. "Just figured you'd want someone around to explain that the Princess is off talking with the Shepherd, so don't worry that she isn't here."

"I CAN go for more than five minutes without seeing her. Besides, I know where she is."

"Battle-dancer voodoo?"

"Battle-dancer voodoo." She glanced around. "I really need some new clothes, and a bath."

"Some men find the natural smell of a woman enticing." Jack took a deep sniff. "But sometimes, good hygiene helps."

"I'm getting odor complaints from a hyena? What's the world coming to?"

"If you want, I can scrounge you up some new duds that compliment your rockin' body while you take a shower."

Trina pulled her shirt out and stared down. "Damn, I miss my old body. My abs were killer."

"Yes, but now you have an enormous rack." When Trina glared at him, he shrugged. "Just putting it into perspective. And now, you'll never have to do another crunch in your life. Because it won't change anything."

"I like crunches!" Trina grumbled loudly. "They're relaxing."

"You are so weird."

She stood up and headed to the shower, where she stripped and cleansed every inch of skin. "Huh," she muttered. "I don't have to shave anymore." She glanced at the area between her thighs. "Not bad."

She emerged to find Jack leaning against the door, and a neatly piled set of what looked like leathers. She raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't blame me. I was just told that these would, A) fit you and B), look damn fine. You know that Lord Stapleton and Sheriff Banshee both have their own personal tailors?"

"Doesn't surprise me." Trina started to literally pour herself into the garments. The pants hung low on her hips, enough so that underwear really wasn't practical, and there was some elastic in the crotch that actually blended perfectly and allowed for full range of movement. Then, there was a black leather lace-up corset that left her abdomen partially exposed, which was incredibly snug and pushed her new C-cup breasts up for easy viewing. She also had a black choker collar, a pair of leather vanbraces, and some pretty stylish leather boots with gold buckles on the sides. "At least they didn't give me heels."

Jack looked her over appreciatively. "I told them to give you something else. Figured you'd hate footwear that you can't fight in."

"Like I can fight in this? Without my tits popping out?"

"The lady said that it's actually pretty good at keeping everything in place. Did I mention how hot you look?"

"The puddle of drool at your feet says it all. Really, was this the most practical thing they had?" Trina's eyes narrowed as Jack stared at his fingernails. "You suggested this?! You son of a --"

The door slid open and the Representative stepped in. "Lady Trina, you look well."

"I look like a hooker," Trina replied, then her eyes widened in surprise and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I forgot --"

The ancient vampire gave a sly, almost wicked smile. "I have heard worse language. And you look nothing of the sort. You look . . . dangerous."

Was that a hint of desire in the Representative's voice? Trina convinced herself that it could not be. Still --

"I was hoping you might accompany me to talk with Archimedes. Seeing as your situation is unique, we wanted to see how your reflexes measure up to the age of your body."

"Which involves?"

"Running, stamina, strength tests. The like."

Trina looked down at her well-displayed bosom. "Again, in this?"

"You can't always pick your outfit before you find yourself in a fight. Consider it a challenge."

Trina grumbled as she followed the Representative out, but she had known she would. She couldn't resist the word "challenge."

It turned out to be a really great stress reliever for Trina. When she was doing shuttle runs, it was discovered that she actually was moving faster than a mortal would even be able to see. It turned out that she was also capable of lifting a shiny new Hummer, though Lord Stapleton was less than thrilled by that exercise. And to her surprise, her tits never popped out.

"You're beautiful to watch when you're moving," Shamira said. She had taken a break from dragon sitting to come and watch the newcomer strut her stuff. "Is that the whole 'listening to the music' that Jack tried to explain."

"Jack trying to explain a graceful fighting style is like an elephant trying to give tips on weight loss --"

"Hey!"

"-- but yeah. I'm just so grateful that I can still hear it. I wasn't sure that the Dancer in White would let a non-elf listen."

"Further evidence that your primal spirit is not displeased with you, I should think," the Representative said.

"Everything's a fable with you, isn't it?"

The ancient vampire looked at Trina, smirked, then turned away.

Just then, Trina heard a ringing in her ears. It was rapid, high-pitched, and could be mistaken for nothing but an alarm. "Vanesse?!" she shouted, honing in on the Princess's position.

All eyes were on her, but Jack was the first to speak. "What's going on?"

"Vanesse is in trouble!" she shouted, peeling out through the garage and towards where she knew her friend was.

Instantly, the compound was roused and everyone was looking for Princess Vanesse Bellethial. Jack was on his push-to-talk, trying to get a hold of Farmer, and Banshee sounded an all-hands-on deck.

Trina burst into the bedroom where she sensed her friend, only to find Vanesse sitting on the bed with a towel around her delightful curves, one around her head, and that was it.

"Eek!" Vanesse screeched, throwing her teacup into the air and jumping to her feet. Then, her towel fell off. She screeched again and grabbed it, covering all the vital parts as quickly as possible. "Trina, what the hell --"