A Shade of Dragon 2(38)

And the mystical astrolabe…

Lethe led me directly to my chambers, and I wasn’t too surprised by this. I had displeased him. This was my punishment.

In the attached closet—through which I had rifled, and as yet only discovered more gowns, each furthering the insult and degradation of the last—from the top shelf, he pulled down a white wicker box and laid it across the mattress for me. He glanced at me and then away, and I realized the truth of the matter: he wasn’t punishing me. I had misread him. He was embarrassed. His trigger-happy emotions had misfired, and he felt weak. He looked weak.

“I was waiting for the right moment to give this to you,” he whispered, lifting the lid from the box, “but I realize now that every moment has been the right moment.”

Inside lay an ermine coat—naturally, as the ice people cared only for the trappings of the arctic, it would appear—clasped at the throat with a heart-shaped ruby brooch.

I swallowed. It was extravagant, yet elegant. In a word, it was queenly.

Lethe lifted the mantle from the box and stepped behind me, circling the luxurious white fur, speckled black, around my shoulders.

My eyes fell upon a distant mirror. The coat seemed to swallow me. I looked very small, however regal, inside of it. My hair spilled in stark contrast over it, and my pallor nearly matched it. I looked like an ice queen.

“I think it suits you,” Lethe whispered into my ear, and I shuddered. He squeezed my shoulders and let his hands trail down my arms, intimate, cupping me to his body for a moment, and then he proceeded out the door, leaving me to my own thoughts.

The key turned in the lock as he exited.





Theon





I could see her in the distance, some illusion created by exhaustion, by despair and starvation. Her dark hair wavered in the air, streaming in an unseen wind. It was Penelope O’Hara as I had never seen her before. She was elemental, god-like. Her eyes were intense, and her mouth was split open in a call. Who was she calling? I kept trying to trek toward her, hindered by some unseen force. I could hardly advance a foot…

But she strode toward me with all the strength and vitality I suddenly lacked. She threw back her head and tore down the front of her blouse, the supple hilltops of her breasts gleaming in the light.

“Theon,” she called to me, ever closer, and I struggled to move, fighting the strange paralysis. “Theon,” she called again, and when she reached me, she poured over me with warmth and eagerness, and my heart broke with gratitude. Finally! Just one little piece of her was all I had wanted… and somehow, the gods had broken through the stranglehold of the astrolabe, allowing me to hold her. All of her…

Her mouth joined the cascade of stroking and coaxing, pulling my tongue forth as her fingers buried themselves into my hair. Her thighs clutched around my waist and my hands went to her hips, guiding her rhythm as we danced together. My body was slow, and the world seemed strange, hazy… but nothing had ever been more real than Penelope was in that moment. Her hair still tumbled and whipped in a magical current, made curly and thick. And her eyes were colorful and cat-like, so feminine they almost reminded me of… of…

Oh, gods.

It was Michelle.

In the half-light of the men’s sleeping quarters, I could see it now. It was she who had the tousled curls. It was she who wore the thick makeup which seemed like elemental flares of fire and water, earth and sky. It was she who had torn open the front of her blouse, and her breasts, not Nell’s, which bore such robust cleavage.

Perhaps at another time, I would have been angered. But so much had already been taken from me—to discover that Nell had been a mirage and Michelle had been attempting to seduce me while I slept was no surprise anymore. Where anger might have once blazed, there was now only a grim disappointment. An onward-trudging soldier.

“Michelle. Get out of my bed.”

“Theon,” Michelle protested, her voice a kittenish mewl. “Why do you keep fighting this when you want it so badly?”

“I do,” I murmured, pushing her off of my lap. “But not from you.”

Michelle’s expression soured. Her lips became more pouty and her eyes narrowed.

“From Nell?” she hissed.

“From Nell.” It hurt to even say the words, but gods damn it, they were still true.

Michelle sneered and vaulted off my lap. She gestured toward me. Her lingerie reminded me of the ice brothels at the Obran peninsula.

“Nell abandoned you, Theon,” she growled. “Nell abandoned you for the man inhabiting your father’s castle; don’t you see what is going on? That pure, innocent heroine act of hers dragged you out to sea, but deep down, her whole life Penelope O’Hara has been an opportunist.” I only let Michelle keep going on and on because I was too tired to fight her, or anyone else, anymore. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was true. I didn’t know anything. “She found what she was looking for in that ice prince. She found the luxury, and the power, and the status. And meanwhile? Meanwhile, Theon? Your fallen empire stands without a princess. Without an heir. With nothing to rally your people.”