The Twelve Zenati Pt. 27

"Let's take a seat and get to know each other a little better. I'll tell you about me and my life, and you can tell me about yours and how you came to create such a fabulous story," Nicola suggested while guiding Olivia away from the others in the room to a small couch where they could talk.

"I'm guessing I don't have to introduce myself. My story is pretty well known amongst your family," Olivia said quietly.

"Only how you came to be here in our city, your life before that is a mystery to us all," Nicola explained. "Except that I think you have been telling us all about your childhood through the life of the Imperfect Princess. Is that Princess you?"

"No," Olivia gave a small, sad laugh with a shake of her head. "I'm not nearly that brave or selfless. I would be the spoilt, selfish littlest Princess, who didn't look beyond her own needs to what was happening to her sisters," she admitted.

"Ah, I see," Nicola nodded without any judgement. "I think we are all a little like that when we are young, everyone except your Imperfect Princess that is. She must have been fearless. I am assuming that it is Marcella. She told me she was more of a warrior than a princess when we were talking about Halloween costumes."

"Yeah, she wouldn't like to be called a princess in real life," Olivia grinned at the thought.

"Okay, well, here's something you won't know about me," Nicola began. "My husband was the family herald and archivist before he died. When we lost him, it became part of my responsibilities to look after the family archive until another herald was chosen. You see each family within the Twelve Tables has a long and rich history that needs to be preserved and added to with every generation. It has always been long and tedious work to track every branch of our family tree, which grows bigger and bigger with every generation. That is until a wonderfully gifted woman, Peri, from another table and her technical wizard came up with some software that makes life a lot easier for us."

"That's great. I can imagine it would be a full-time job for a couple of librarians rather than just one person; otherwise," Olivia agreed.

"Well, I was only the caretaker until the next herald was announced on the new table. Though we were pretty sure it would be Genesis with his journalism awards and all his contacts in the business. So it makes sense that you would be a writer too," she said as if it was something Olivia had been doing for years rather than just considering for the first time.

"Oh, I'm not a writer," Olivia shook her head.

"Only because you haven't put your story on paper yet," Nicola laughed. "Trust me, Honey, you have the makings of a great writer. And I think I know someone who would love to help you and maybe even publish your story when it's written."

"I'm not sure that's..." Olivia trailed off. "I guess that is exactly what Vivienne and I were talking about, but I would like Marcie to help me do it, not someone who doesn't know me or our stories."

"But maybe when you're looking for an editor or publisher, you'll let me know? I think it's a great story and one that should go into the family archives. It's like fate brought you and your sister here at the same time as Vivienne for the three brothers. It could be a sweeping romance to tug at the heartstrings."

"I planned to write children's books for other children who are scared like I was when they were little and don't have a warrior to help them through it all," Olivia explained.

"Talented and noble," Nicola nodded. "Still, I think your sister's story will resonate with many adults as well who are survivors and think no one else can understand what they have been through. At least think about it and in the meantime, can I contact my friend just to see if she thinks it's as good of an idea as I think it is?

"I don't think so. Not yet, at least. I don't think Marcella would like her life published for everyone to read," Olivia said. "I'll think about what you said though."

"Okay I won't push, but it would be a shame if you never wrote this story down it could be a best-seller," Nicola enthused.

*****

Marcella lifted her head from the back of the couch. She'd fallen asleep watching the house where no one had come and gone for the duration of that time. Something had woken her up, and she jumped in fright as a heavy body landed on the couch beside her. She turned to look, and her eyes widen at the sight of Noah.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped. "You can't be here you were shot you should be in the hospital!" Her eyes raked over him seeking out a wound or something to tell her that he was the real Noah, the Noah she had spoken to not so long ago who had told her it was only a graze.

"I'm fine. Zan was shot worse," he indicated her other side. She turned to find the younger cousin that she had met the morning sitting beside her shirtless with a large bandage wound around his chest.

"We were looking for you," Zanto said admonishingly. "Guess the gunmen were too," he shrugged.

"Why would gunmen be looking for me?" she asked, feeling her stomach plummet and directing her question to Noah.

"I don't know, but I wasn't about to help them find you," Noah said. "Neither was he," he added, turning her face back to Zanto and pressing against her back, so she was leaning into the young man. "You should thank him properly for taking a bullet meant for you." The murmured suggestion froze her in place. This shouldn't be happening why was this happening. Then Zanto reached up to cradle her cheek and pressed his lips to hers softly.

"I'm not the only one who took a bullet for you," Zanto murmured against her hips before pulling back. He watched with a heated gaze as Noah turned her face to his, kissing her deeply with all the passion and heat she remembered he possessed. His tongue was duelling with her own when she felt Zanto move closer and kiss her neck and ear lobe breathing warm breath against her skin. Both of their hands began caressing her arms and thighs as if they had divided her in half, right down the middle.

This can't be happening! Her brain screamed at her as Noah pulled away and her head was turned so that Zanto claimed her lips again. This time he didn't hold back. He parted her lips, kissing her as deeply and with as much heat as Noah had, and despite knowing that this was wrong, so very wrong, she kissed him back.

This had to be a dream Marcella reasoned. She considered making herself wake up by pinching herself or something. But then she thought that a little dream kissing never hurt anyone, especially as Noah seemed to be the one instigating this weird menage in her dream. Besides, it felt good to be held between two hot men and kissed like she was their oxygen. It was just kissing, and she could stop them at any moment if she just said the word, stop, even in her dream state. Only she didn't say it, and she continued going back and forth between their heated kisses.

In the end, she had relaxed into the feeling her head bent back against the couch as they took turns kissing her, their hands caressing her arms and sides, making her feel so good in that moment. Then the mood changed slightly, and their hands moved from her arms to her breasts each moving in a different way over her breasts which were thankfully covered by the thin cotton dress. Again she froze. This had gone too far, but they swallowed her half-hearted protests, making them sound like a moan in her throat as they cupped and squeeze a breast each. Their fingers, squeezed, moulded and played with her breasts in uniquely different ways. The sensation was intoxicating to her, like drinking champagne too fast and getting a head rush of alcohol-fuelled bubbles.

Beneath her dress, she could feel her nipples harden and swell to their touch. Her body began to respond, and she leaned back a little more and continued to kiss both men. Her hands slid up onto each of their thighs, scratching lightly at the material of their pants and sensing their growing cocks trapped behind the fabric. The thin material of her dress tore, making her startle and pull away from the two men.

"Relax, I've got you," Noah crooned kissing her neck. "Nothing bad will happen when I've got you."

Marcella wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him even if this was a dream. She wanted to have faith that he was all he had told her he could be, instead of a man who would force her to submit to the laws of the tables. She wanted to be able to love him as he had told her he loved her. The look on his face as she had left him and Zanto in that hotel room that morning played in her head. She leaned back and closed her eyes against all the warnings in her head and consoling herself that this was just a dream, and she wouldn't have to face the reality of what she was doing.

Their persistent hands had worked against her as she had been lost in her thoughts, and her breasts now lay exposed to both men as they cupped and played with the fleshy mounds. Their fingers twirling around the nipples and tweaking one while the other was pinched and pulled. As Marcella's mouth was claimed by Noah's, Zanto leaned down and licked her swollen nipple before drawing it between his lips. He held it in his mouth and suckled, his tongue swirling over it. Hot sparks flew through her body, and she squirmed in unbidden heat, arching her back and flexing her chest towards him. She let out a moan as they switched positions, so she was now kissing Zanto and Noah was left to torment the other nipple exquisitely.

Marcella's fingers raked up their thighs as she arched and switched between the two men who seemed determined to make her melt into a puddle of needy desire. As if in response, their hands move to her thighs and begin caressing up towards the apex between them. One of her hands reached down and stopped Zanto's hand from mirroring that of his cousin. It momentarily stopped his progress, but it was a weak attempt. She didn't push him away but instead held the hand in place, the warmth radiating into her skin. She could feel him kiss her neck, and her ear lobe before his words penetrated the lust haze in her mind.

"This feels right. Feel it with me beautiful. This isn't wrong, Noah is happy I'm here, just relax and enjoy it," Zanto crooned. "Let me taste you, touch you, end the craving I feel for you."

Marcella gasped at his words and pulled away from Noah's kiss to look into Zanto's eyes to see the truth of his words. He closed his eyes, and there was an ear-shattering bang jolting her from the moment. She looked at the still features of Zanto and let her eyes trail down his body to where blood poured from a bullet hole in his chest, soaking through the bandage he wore.

"Why, Marcella?" he whispered, looking hurt and confused.

Another bang sounded making he freeze in horror as Zanto slumped back into the couch beside her. She opened her mouth to scream, and nothing came out as she stared in horror at the two men beside her. It was a dream, just a dream. She jabbed her nails into her thighs, trying to wake herself up from this nightmare.

Marcella startled to wakefulness. Her breathing was ragged, and she shook her head, trying to dismiss the dream from her mind. Her bladder protested the movement, and she looked around, wondering if this stateroom had an attached bathroom of some description. Sitting up properly, she was surprised to find a man standing close by to where she had fallen asleep on the couch.

"Hello Marcella, my name is Konrad. That must have been some dream you were having. I have come to help you prepare for dinner. It's a black-tie occasion, so it's important to dress up and act like you belong that way no one will become suspicious of a new face in our crowd. It is quite a close-knit group you understand. You will act as my date for the evening. First, though, a shower to freshen up?" He eyed her with a smirk taking in the rapid breathing she was fighting to control and the points of her nipples straining against the thin fabric of her dress.

"Yes, a bathroom, please," Marcella nodded and kept her head down, trying to disguise her blush as she came to her feet.

"Certainly, I will leave the clothes and makeup and return in an hour for you," Konrad said politely. After guiding her to the attached bathroom, he left her to get ready for dinner with the renegade Suebi. She knew that the people he spoke of were the one's who planned the takeover of Remington's kingdom in the north once the opposition to their leadership was dispensed with in the raid tonight. Marcella swallowed down her trepidation and went through the process of readying herself for a black-tie dinner.

*****

When she had handed herself over to these people, this had been the last thing Marcella had expected. At the same time, she had hoped not to be treated like a prisoner. She thought maybe she could expect to be considered as a frenemy who was treated with wary caution. A black-tie event had been the furthest idea of how she would spend her evening. The dress that Konrad had left for her was beautiful. If she didn't know better, she would have through it was designed just for her. The sapphire blue material of the dress moulded to her curves and skimmed the tops of her toes in the delicate sandals provided in precisely the right size.

Pushing all thoughts of her earlier dream from her mind, Marcella had showered and changed before trying to form her curls into a semi-elegant updo. She cursed at not having taken the time to straighten her hair that morning. She'd barely put the finishing touches on her makeup when Konrad returned smiling widely at her and not hiding his appreciation of what he saw.

"You look lovely, Miss Gambaro," he said formally. "Shall we?" He held his elbow out toward her, and when she reached toward him, he tucked her hand in the crook of the elbow and covered her hand with his before walking from the room. "You are quite an unexpected but equally lovely surprise to add to this evenings events."

The guests at the dinner party had started to arrive, and all seemed to know Konrad well and welcomed him warmly when they entered the dining room. Marcella wondered if they had docked again to pick up so many people. A few of the other guests were introduced to Marcella as friends rather than associates, a word she realised he didn't use lightly. He introduced her as his girlfriend and staying true to the role he had given her she was attentive to his needs and stayed by his side during the evening. It was just another role she had to assume in her life.

Konrad was impressed with how easily Marcella was able to adjust to being given a sense of belonging when he had called her his girlfriend. She was able to join in conversations on matters of social importance to the crowd of highly intelligent men and women. Most of them made up the core of the remaining Northern Suebi clan as well as some interested parties from the bordering states who had backed the smaller group initiating this final take over after the demise of Remington Royce. She never argued points she disagreed with but instead lapsed into a quiet smile and nodded as the misinformed continued to talk despite her gentle prompting that they may have been mistaken about the subject they were discussing. Particularly when talking about the poor girl Remington's had chosen to marry with genuine sympathy. It galled her that they knew what he was doing to Olivia, and not one of them had lifted a hand to stop the evil monster or help her.

At the table, they sat close to long-time friends of Konrad's, brothers, he had called them. She realised this would be the best opportunity to find out more about the man. She had listened to the table banter, giggling as they joked and reminisced with each other during the meal. She found he was respected amongst his peers, and perhaps feared a little, they didn't argue with him, and if there was a disagreement, they looked to him to arbitrate. She could tell the men at their table shared a genuine friendship with Konrad that dated back years, possibly to his school days because he did not seem very old.

"Marcella," Alyson, one of the women at the table said, getting her attention. "Would you mind terribly if I danced with Konrad, Zander has two left feet," she shook her head sadly.

"I don't mind if he doesn't," Marcella answered with a genuine smile.

"Dance with me, Konrad, please?" Alyson wheedled. "You're the only one out of this lot who has any rhythm at all."

"If I must," Konrad groaned like a martyr holding back a smile as he stood to take her hand and lead her toward where a few couples were dancing on the rear deck of the yacht which opened off the dining room.

"He makes it look so easy," Zander said disgustedly.

"Probably because it is easy for him," she laughed. "Some people just have a natural rhythm."

"Well, you would say that, wouldn't you," he chuckled. "So how did you two meet, you're not the usual type he dates?" Zander asked.

"I'm not?" she feigned ignorance about Konrad's type. "Do tell?"

"Oh no, I'm not falling for that," he held up his hands as if surrendering to attack.

"It's okay, you're not the first person to mention his preference for busty blondes," she laughed. "We met through mutual acquaintances," she gave the pat answer she had given everyone else who had asked during the night.

"He seems relaxed, so you must be doing something right," Zander said. "He can be an uptight bastard at times. He's usually hovering over any girl he brings to these things as if making sure she doesn't divulge any of his secrets."

"I imagine you all know far more about him than I do. He does seem to like things a certain way, though," she said with a grin. "Luckily, I am adaptable. Not adaptable enough to change my hair colour or get a boob job if he asked me to," she laughed. "But the day to day stuff doesn't bother me."

"You'd have to be adaptable," Zander chuckled. "He's always been a control freak, but that's why he's so successful at what he does."

"Is this the part where you tell me not to break his heart?" she laughed.

"Who me? Nah I think you know as well as I do that he can handle himself. I would be more concerned about your welfare in that case," he chuckled. "The man doesn't like to lose and won't let go easily if you decide to end things."

"So of all these busty blondes I keep hearing about, none ever broken his heart?" she asked.

"Honestly, I wasn't sure he had one. He just doesn't seem to do the girlfriend thing or get attached to anyone, for that matter. He has friends and acquaintances but no family, that I know of, anyway," he shrugged. "Aside of us," he amended quickly at her puzzled looked. "We are brothers by choice, however, not by blood."

"So he's a closed book to his friends?" she asked curiously looking out to the dance floor where Konrad twirled and dipped his partner.

"Let's not go putting words in my mouth here. All I am saying is that we're probably closer to him than most and while we've seen him bring dates to dinners before, we've never been introduced to a girlfriend. That in itself makes you different," Zander noted.

Having piqued the interest of the other guests at their table, they began to debate the fact that Konrad was more likely to take a date to a social gathering where he required a buffer and that no one could recall him taking a date to a business or clan meeting. Other's continued to speculate on the fact that as she wasn't the usual type of girl he dated. In the main, they stayed away from the term girlfriend he had used to introduce her. If only they had known the truth about who she was and why she was here they probably wouldn't have been so candid with her.

"So, did you learn anything interesting while I was gone?" Konrad asked when he returned and bent to kiss her cheek softly.