The Ward Ch. 09

"Must we discuss this now?" she said coldly, before noting Stephan's warning look. "Do not trouble yourself. I will navigate it," she muttered.

"Very well," Stephan nodded, leaning back in his seat with the wine glass raised. He stared over the rim. "I suppose you are relieved there is no music for dancing," he mused, taking a leisurely sip whilst still watching her.

Lucille couldn't trust herself to respond, opting instead to stare down at her damp palms. "The hour is getting late, Sir."

"It was late when you arrived," he chuckled. "Dare I hope you are impatient as I?"

"I am not, but I will see this through," she said distantly, already steeling her mind for the obligation ahead. "And should you harbor some hope of my carrying your little bastards, you should also know that I have taken the same precautions as with Lord Bard."

Choosing not to respond, Stephan finished his wine, carefully placing it to the table. Then he stood, and Lucille wondered if she would ever fail to be startled by his height.

Grinning at her sullen face, Stephan extended his hand. "My lady?" he inquired pleasantly, as though providing a service.

Lucille sourly accepted his hand and allowed herself to be drawn to her feet and led away from the table, down the hall and up some stairs. The residence was well-kept and decorated tastefully, but Lucille was blind to the details, her mind in a surreal state of despair, as though she was being led to her execution.

The man holding her hand had certainly done that before. The most unhelpful musings began to cloud Lucille's mind as they stacked atop each other. She agreed to be a secret slave to a corrupt public servant of high ranking. A man who tortured and killed without flinching.

"Why me, Stephan?" she asked desperately, slightly resisting the pull on his hand when they arrived at his bedroom. The room was lit in an intimate red glow which seemed devilish to Lucille.

Amused, Stephan released Lucille's hand and crossed his arms in that way he always did. "I'm not sure what you mean by the question," he replied, tilting his head at her distraught face.

"Y-You said you've watched me for years," Lucille stammered, wanting to know the truth, but also wondering if she was stalling in a panic. Perhaps it was both.

Offering nothing, Stephan continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable.

"And you're a stranger to me...except...unless..." Lucille felt her throat close up and Stephan kindly went to pour a glass of water.

He handed it to her, his eyes moved to the bed, then back to Lucille's face. "This has nothing to do with Lord Bard, if that is your concern," he disclosed. "Is it so difficult to believe I want you for yourself?"

"Yes!" Lucille breathlessly exclaimed, having consumed the water in a rush.

Stephan's lip curled. "I might punish you for ever considering Lord Bard worthy of an affair, but he is otherwise very...far from my mind," he finished unevenly, mesmerised by Lucille's dark beauty in the candlelight.

Lucille forced herself to breathe as Stephan stepped forward and enclosed her in a stifling embrace. "Please," she whispered against his warm neck, terrified. She felt movement, his hand deftly removing the pins from her hair, then the long shining mass tumbled down her back.

"Allay your fears," Stephan muttered thickly, his hands moving slowly over her body, allowing enough space between them for his fingertips to brush across her breasts, lingering on the silky skin. "I would hate to ruin your exquisite gown. Undress for me."

Relieved she had enough strength not to blubber like a fool, Lucille tried to imagine she was not being keenly watched while unlacing the diamond bodice. She cautiously loosened the other fastenings holding the dress together and the weighty material slid down her body, leaving her in nothing but a sheer undergarment. Lucille awkwardly stepped out and bent to lift the gown, but Stephan's hand was on her wrist to stop her.

"Allow me," he murmured, collecting the delicate bundle and taking it to hang safely.

Lucille turned away when Stephan came to her, so he stood against her back, his breath warmed the top of her head. Then her hair was slowly undone, flowing down her back and shoulders. On this occasion she was grateful for the cover. From behind, she felt Stephan hurriedly undress, and when his hands returned to her body they were shaking. He turned her, his fist under her chin forced her to face him.

Lucille's pretty black eyes were wide with a combination of disbelief, dismay and trepidation. In her peripheral vision she unwillingly registered Stephan's bare strong shoulders, the smooth skin of his chest. Even without the visual indication, the warmth radiating from his body was impossible to ignore.

Lucille read his mood, the tension in the room, everything leading up to an imminent moment. The seconds passed slowly until Stephan scooped Lucille up against his chest, holding her in such a way to keep eye contact. Without breaking it, he carried her to the bed.

Once again, Lucille found herself laying back against a soft surface, under the bulk of Stephan. Except this time, they were undressed.

When her lips parted with dismay, he kissed her deeply, his manner alternating between sensual and demanding in a way that left her breathless. Unable to bear his intent gaze, Lucille shut her eyes. With the darkness came a different experience. With her sight closed to the environment, the preoccupations weighing her mind were distracted by the ardent attention of the man atop her. His touch was careful and unrushed, building toward something more.

Stephan broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, his hands touching all over, everywhere except between her legs. In a brisk movement he tugged the night slip up her body, letting it bunch across her breasts.

Lucille gasped at the skin on skin contact but did not open her eyes. The experience was very far from the terrors she anticipated. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irked that the encounter stemming from a horrid situation was bordering on pleasurable.

"Oh!" Lucille arched and her eyes flew open, gazing at the unfamiliar ceiling architecture as Stephan's mouth moved over her chest, his teeth grazing a nipple then transferring to the other breast.

Lucille was a shapely woman, with a narrow waist, rounded hips and buxom chest. Stephan had often fantasised about her, imagined burying his face in her breasts, relishing in the soft flesh pressing his cheeks.

The sensations flowed from Lucille's chest downwards, simmering between her legs. She unwittingly bucked, sharply inhaling when the thick point of Stephan's cock nudged her, slipping slightly against her wetness.

It felt so good. Stephan's lips trailed back up her neck, to her ear, whispering things she was too dazed to comprehend. But the sentiment was clear. Losing herself, she bucked again and moaned into his mouth, her tongue moved in a slow dance against Stephan's.

Urgently, she jerked her hips and Stephan groaned, his shoulders broad and flexed with tension before easing down, sheathing his thick aching length inside her until he bottomed out, gasping when they were fully connected.

Wildly panting, Lucille's hands eagerly stroked up Stephan's arms, across the toned muscle while he began to slowly thrust. She moaned with his movements, confused by Stephan's gentleness and her own reaction. Then haze of lust subsided enough for Lucille to register a terrible epiphany.

With the loss of Edmund, she abruptly stifled a deep-seated need. It manifested now, the awful yearning to relive a man's desire, the fact she sorely missed her secret trysts. Now she was riddled again with the sensations she longed for, forcibly accepting those affections from a stranger she despised. The pathetic nature of her loneliness came as an overwhelming surprise. It broke her.

With her body still riddled with hot, unsated arousal, Lucille began to cry, turning her face from Stephan's kisses but continuing to move her hips in unison with his thrusts. Stephan curled over her, his chest grazing her nipples, creating more pleasure.

"I knew I would have your tears at some point," Stephan grunted, his voice strained with bitter desire; Lucille's weeping bringing his lifelong resentment to surface. "I expected earlier, but your body responding so avidly to a commoner must be quite the downfall. How do you bear the shame of making love to your inferior?" he sneered.

Lucille felt the sting of his mockery and hated him. "Do not flatter yourself that this has anything to do with you," she snarled, her breathing laboured. "You're the inciter, not the cause. I merely despise that it has been so long that I find enjoyment in..." she turned away, disgusted with herself.

"You've craved this," Stephan deduced with some surprise, the harshness leaving his features. Delighted by her unexpected admission, he increased tempo, watching her mouth fall ajar with wanton lust. "After you lost Edmund..."

"Stop!" Lucille implored, her tears flowing harder.

To her relief, he didn't torment her further. "Then it is possible one day..." he panted, driving into her harder, distracted by the rhythmic movement of her breasts. He cupped her face and kissed her again, feeling his pleasure reach an unstoppable giddy height. "Perhaps one day you won't hate me so much," he said thickly against her lips.

Struck by her own intense climax, Lucille didn't hear him. She cried out against his lips and clutched him to her, frantically bucking, her legs curled around his waist. Her arms snaked over his shoulders and about his neck to bring him into a hard kiss.

Unable to delay the inevitable any further, Stephan gasped and strained against her. Then he growled, long and deep, slowly pumping her full of his seed.

Feeling crushed into the bed and still fighting to catch her breath, Lucille let her arms and legs fall from Stephan. She relaxed into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, anywhere but at the man on top of her. And still inside her.

Lucille expected to be sobbing at such at time, but she only felt bleak. Though she continued to ignore Stephan's gaze on her face, her cheeks were decadently flushed. She didn't react when he gently traced her heated cheekbone to tuck stray locks of hair behind her ear.

"Lucille," Stephan breathed, intently observing her stoic countenance. "You're a good loser, my love."

***

Aleksis arrived at his castle and paused with astonishment, sighting Edmund's horse saddled nearby. The glamour had been disrupted; the front door was still partially open.

"Oh, Gods..." he murmured, dashing into the elusive residence. With immense relief he found the young Lord sitting broodingly in the small library leading down to the dungeon.

"Make yourself at home, my Lord." Aleksis' bow was slightly exaggerated with humour. "What brings you here, Edmund?"

"Simon," Edmund said shortly, standing from the chair. "I..." he broke off, looking uncomfortable. "I came to inquire about his welfare. I also wanted to discuss a matter regarding Sage."

"Such concern for the safety of your inferiors," Aleksis mused, ignoring the latter point. "Simon will be touched." Observing Edmund's expression freeze, Aleksis tilted his head with a smile. "Ah. I imagine it was not the reception you hoped for."

Edmund was slightly speechless, recalling the speed which Simon threw himself against the bars, screaming with bloodlust.

"My hopes were naturally not very high to start," Edmund grimly admitted. "But I won't deny the...reception...was unsettling."

"You should have known better than to trespass without my escort," Aleksis harshly replied, all humour gone. "I am already tasked with repairing my relationship..." he stopped himself. "Suffice to say the news of your death on my premises would not be well-received by Sage."

Edmund laughed bitterly but chose not to respond to the comment. Glancing behind, he resumed his seat. "Will you tell me about Simon? Is that the reason for Sage cutting ties with you?"

Aleksis thoughtfully pursed his lips. "In part."

When Edmund opened his mouth to ask more questions, Aleksis abruptly waved them off.

"It is not my place to discuss what happened between us," Aleksis shrugged. "But I have a question for you, Edmund. Do you trust Lady Amelie?"

Edmund did a double take. "I beg your pardon?"

"Lucille," Aleksis elaborated. "Are you on good terms?"

"I believe so," Edmund answered slowly. "Why do you ask about her?"

"We happened to cross paths in a quieter part of town. She was riding a direction headed away from noble establishments and more toward..."

"Whatever it is, I trust her," Edmund said firmly. "She recently called upon me to warn about a possible threat from a member of the Guard. Stephan. I hoped you might agree to shelter Sage if the threat..."

"Ah, young Stephan," Aleksis interrupted, his brow pinched with concentration.

Edmund looked perplexed; it was always strange to hear Aleksis refer to another as 'young', when his physical form was generally more youthful than those he discussed.

"I am afraid that news does unfortunately coincide with my encounter with Lucille," Aleksis continued. "She was riding alone, dressed for disguise and unaccompanied. I cannot verify her endeavour, but it was not of a social kind. She was very put out to have met me."

"I don't understand."

"Or perhaps you don't want to consider that your ex-mistress is liaising with your new enemy?" Aleksis lightly suggested.

"What?" Edmund exclaimed, looking repulsed. "She doesn't know him. She came to warn me-"

"Then I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for her riding in secret toward his residence." Aleksis pulled a stray thread from the sleeve of his coat. "Now, I suppose I cannot prove that is the case. But let's say my instincts are rather good. However..." he trailed off, his eyes on the ceiling to remember the event. "Wherever her appointment, she was certainly not looking forward to it. Dreading it, more like."

Edmund bit his lip, his hazel eyes dark with fury. "When I last saw her, she left abruptly and said she would always be a friend to me."

"Women have been known to lie, now and again."

"No, it's not that, it's..." Edmund swallowed, feeling sick. "She came to warn me about a threat from the Guard. I disclosed an observation from long ago, that Stephan admired her." Unable to sit still, he stood and began to pace. "I hope your instincts are wrong, Aleksis."

"Well, I suggest you clear the air with the lady. In the interim, of course, I am happy to shelter Sage from any threat. She is aware of it." Aleksis shifted impatiently. "I do not wish to be rude, Edmund, but dawn will soon be upon us, and Simon must eat."

***

Once the humiliating afterglow ebbed, Lucille squirmed awkwardly, managing to stifle a whimper when Stephan reluctantly withdrew from her.

Still naked, Stephan lingered in bed, watching Lucille hastily reassemble her dress and sit by a mirror, arranging her hair. His eyes gleamed like emeralds, noticing that even with her dark hair beautifully tousled, her cheeks red from passion, her lips swollen from lengthy kissing, Lucille had resumed an air of cold formality that stirred his loins.

"You are one of the few of your class whose dignity is not a facade," he remarked, his tone mocking and appreciative.

Lucille glared at her reflection. "You envy my class, you wish to be one of us, and yet you harbour a genuine contempt. You, Sir, are a sorry contradiction."

Stephan softly chuckled. "I want to take you to bed when you speak so, Lucille."

Lucille's face tightened with anger, though there was a brief glimmer of fear in her eyes which she expertly concealed, but Stephan caught it. Once presentable, Lucille sighed heavily and rose from the seat. "Please do not trouble yourself, I wish to see myself out."

"I will allow it on this occasion," Stephan smiled lazily, stretching comfortably into the bed and feeling incredibly relaxed. "Until next time, love."

Lucille stalked to the door and forced herself to look back. "You make me sick!" she declared, hatred reverberating with each word. Though the statement was true, it felt like a very weak insult, especially when Stephan threw back his head and laughed.

Though Stephan remained in bed when Lucille stalked from the room, she knew he watched her don the cloak and mount Cleo in the stable. She didn't look to any windows of the large house shadowing the area, but she knew that from one of them, Stephan was watching her.

Lucille rode from Stephan's residence in a daze, hardly taking notice of her direction or the surroundings. Fortunately, none bothered her, and once arrived home, she quickly dismissed the fussing servants and fled for her private chambers.

Her maid, Marie, was waiting for her. Still hurt for being left behind, the girl offered her usual polite curtsy and greeting, but her lips were sulkily pursed.

"I trust you enjoyed your evening, my Lady," she said disapprovingly, scrutinising Lucille's hair and pink cheeks.

"None of your insolence now, Marie," Lucille said sharply. "I have a great weight on my mind."

"You always kept me in your confidence," Marie replied with sad wistfulness. "Have I done something to offend?"

"No," Lucille sighed. "Tis my own actions that..." she shook her head and gestured. "I will bathe before bed."

Marie immediately went to organise the necessary arrangements, then returned to tidy Lucille's hair for the bath. The maid noticed her mistress' mood was strangely tense, despite appearing physically less uptight than when she left the manor.

"My lady, are you well?" Marie ventured. "You seem beset."

Lucille started, having forgotten the maid's presence entirely. "Marie, there are some secrets which cannot be spilled to the rest of the house," she warned.

"I would never betray your confidence," Marie vehemently exclaimed, tilting her head when Lucille fell into a thoughtful silence. "The others are conscious that your appointment tonight was not to...ride alone," she finished diplomatically. "And I would never dare-"

"Marie." Lucille met her maid's eyes in the mirror, and Marie was startled by her grim expression. "I must find a husband."

***

Simon warily stepped from the castle, conscious of Aleksis practically on his heels.

"Do you feel well enough to hunt?" Aleksis queried, watching Simon peer distractedly at the moon. "I can bring you food again."

"No," Simon shook his head. "If I am to claim a life, I will do the work myself."

"How honourable," Aleksis said dryly, lightly taking Simon's upper arm to draw him to his side. "Stay close. Remember food is ample in these woods. Never transform before you find prey."

"Is that what happened, when you attacked me?"

"No," Aleksis answered. "I had found prey, and you unexpectedly crossed my path."

"Oh. I wonder that Sage managed to stop you."

Aleksis cleared his throat. "If I could not contain myself from attacking her, she would have been dead long ago. I have a lot of control," he explained. "An unflattering example, but if you were to reach between a dog and its meal, you may be bitten, no matter how docile the dog before the plate is set down. Only someone very familiar might dare interrupt it."

"Sage dared."

"I was both angry and grateful for it," Aleksis said gravely.

They walked in silence for a time, now and then separated by trees and shrubs, but always keeping proximity. Soon, Aleksis stilled and caught Simon's shoulder.

"Listen," he said quietly.

Simon concentrated, hearing the swell of small gusts of wind, the trees rustling, different leaf textures bristling together. There was a small bundle of sounds coming from the far right, hundreds of metres away.