Lady Gillian finally broke the quiet. “We must force the emperor to put aside his plans to invade another peaceful land. If Gaius Prospero would govern us, then he must do so fairly and justly. He and the High Council must spend their time working to overcome the problems we have here in Hetar, not in planning wars that only enrich them and impoverish us.”
Lara slipped Andraste back into her scabbard. She looked out at the women. “My sisters,” she said, “I beg you to dissuade Gaius Prospero from this tragic mistake. Do not invade Terah. My husband and our people stand ready to defend our lands, and we will prevail.” Then she turned to Lady Gillian. “Thank you for letting me speak,” Lara said. She reached for her cloak, putting it about her shoulders. “May the Celestial Actuary give you wisdom and keep you in peace,” Lara said and with a flourish of her hand she disappeared in a pale mauve haze.
Moments later she reappeared in her own chambers. Mila, her serving woman, jumped at her mistress’s appearance. “I don’t think I will ever get used to you doing that,” she said with a nervous chuckle.
Lara laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She handed Mila her long cape, and removing Andraste from her back, set the sheathed sword in her place above the hearth in the dayroom. “I’m going to lie down for a little while,” she told Mila. “Being but half-faerie, I am sometimes exhausted by the appearing and reappearing.”
Mila nodded. “I put a decanter of fresh-squeezed juice by your bed,” she said.
Lara nodded her thanks, and entering her bedchamber changed into a loose robe and lay down, falling into a slumber almost immediately. But her sleep was troubled, as it had been in the last few weeks. She kept hearing a voice calling her name and twice now she had found herself summoned to the Dream Plain only to sense another presence but not be able to see it or communicate with it, whatever it was. Awakening after a restless few hours she poured herself a goblet of juice and sipped it thoughtfully. Something was missing, she realized, and she knew that there was only one person who could help her. She needed to speak with Kaliq, but he had been avoiding her summons. That in itself was odd and only increased her curiosity. She sensed she could not remember something- what it was escaped her.
Magnus entered her bedchamber. “How goes your campaign to undermine Gaius Prospero?” he asked her with a small smile. He flung himself down next to her.
“You’re back,” she said. “How is Uncle Arik? All is well at the Temple of the Great Creator? And aye, my campaign goes well, I believe.”
“My uncle sends his regards,” the Dominus said. “He wants to know when you will give me an heir. No female can inherit the title of Dominus, as you well know.” He ran a finger down her arm. “You are looking impatient with me,” he grinned.
“There will be no more offspring until I am certain Terah is safe from Gaius Prospero and his ambitions,” Lara told her husband. “We have spoken on this before.”
“Will we ever really be safe from Hetar?” Magnus Hauk asked his wife.
“Probably not,” Lara admitted, “but carrying a child weakens my powers. You do not want me weakened right now, my lord. There is more going on in Hetar than meets the eye. The lady Gillian has reached an age where she must give up her power to another. Her successor will be the lady Farah, who is the mother of Lord Jonah, who has, as you are well aware, married Gaius Prospero’s divorced wife, Vilia. Tonight I saw Vilia’s serving woman among those gathered to listen. Her hood fell back a moment. I have only seen her twice but I recognized her. It is obvious that this movement of women is growing in power, and Vilia has sent her servant to learn what she can and gauge the danger. But to whom? Vilia can have no loyalty left to Gaius Prospero, which can only mean she does whatever she does for her new husband. I believe Lord Jonah is positioning himself to overthrow Gaius Prospero.”
“How is it that you can see all these machinations after simply glimpsing a lady’s servant, Lara? Are you even certain this woman was who you say?”
“I never forget a face,” Lara replied quietly. “And as for how I see what I do, my lord husband, it is because I am Hetarian-born. Deception and subterfuge are in every Hetarian’s nature, Magnus, even one who is half-faerie. Never forget that.”
“Do you warn me?” he asked softly.
“I should never betray you or Terah,” Lara replied as softly.
He pulled her down into his arms and kissed her mouth in a slow and leisurely fashion. “Give me a son, my faerie wife,” he said.
“Not yet,” she told him again as she had every time he had asked. She loved him, but his trusting Terahn nature would not allow him to fully understand the dangers they faced. It was up to her, Lara realized, to protect him and in doing so, to protect Terah. She pulled him back down to her and kissed him fiercely. “Do you want to take pleasures with me, Magnus?” and she smiled when his turquoise eyes lit up in answer to her question.
Her fingers began to unlace his shirt carefully. Anticipation, Lara knew, was always stoked by going slowly. Pulling the shirt over his head Lara pushed him onto his back and smoothed her hands over his broad chest. Bending her golden head she first nibbled at his nipples, scoring them lightly with her teeth, and then began to lick at his flesh with long sweeps of her tongue. “Ummm,” she said. “You taste salty and smell of leather and horse, my lord.” Her head moved lower as her fingers began to undo his leather riding pants. She slipped a cool hand beneath the leather, reaching down to fondle him. Then she moved to draw the riding pants down over his slender hips and long legs.
Lara wiggled her way back up his body until they were level again. Then sitting up she pulled off her sleep robe and climbed atop the Dominus. “Now, my lord, we shall begin again,” she said. Lowering her head and bending her body she began to lick and nibble at him, sending little shivers up and down his spine. She was very, very thorough. Reaching up, she unbound her long gilt-colored hair and trailed it slowly up and down his torso. He shuddered. Straddling him, her buttocks toward him, Lara began to caress his rod, which had already burgeoned. Her fingers reached beneath him to cup his seed sac in her palm. She gently squeezed it, careful not to give him any pain. Her supple fingers fondled the pouch and he groaned. His rod stood straight and tall. Lara bent to kiss its head, drawing the flesh back to view the garnet-colored head. A tiny bead of moisture glistened in its single eye.
“Enough!” he growled, pulling her down and onto her back. His lips met hers in a fiery kiss, his tongue chasing hers about the cavern of her mouth. “You’re a wicked temptress, my faerie wife,” he told her. His fingers now sought her core, pushing past her nether lips to bury themselves within her. She was very wet and deliciously hot. Soon he would sheath his love rod inside her, but for now he wanted to tease her a bit. The three fingers moved slowly back and forth in a leisurely manner. “I love taunting you,” he whispered against her mouth.
“I love it when you do,” she murmured back, her green eyes closing as she enjoyed the sensations he was creating within her. “But do not be long,” she said. “I need you inside me.”
He played with her for a short while more, and then withdrawing his fingers he mounted her and thrust deep inside her. Lara sighed and raked her nails lightly down his long back. Magnus Hauk began to move, slowly at first and then with increasing rapidity. What was it about Lara that, no matter how many times they coupled, he could not get enough of her? He groaned with the pleasure his body was receiving from the simple possession of her.
Lara thrashed beneath him. He was very hard, long and thick. And oh so skilled with his love rod. Never had she known a mortal who was so proficient in passion. He forced a hand between them and played with her already excited love bud. But when he next reached beneath her to push a single finger into her other channel Lara gasped with a mixture of utter pleasure and a trepidation that she did not understand. “Magnus!” she cried out and then she was overcome with pleasure as her juices crested, bathing his love rod as his own juices mushroomed forth to fill her with his heated tribute.
Afterwards they cuddled in a mutual embrace until finally Lara said, “The sun is setting, my darling, and we promised the children that when we were all home together we would eat the evening meal together. I know they have not forgotten. They will be expecting us.”
Grumbling, he arose from the bed, gathered up his garments and departed through the door that connected his private chamber with hers. Watching him go, Lara smiled to herself. She loved him so very much. Rising, she went to the silver ewer on the table and poured some perfumed water into it from the matching pitcher. Lara bathed herself free of his juices, then called to Mila to bring her a suitable gown. Once dressed, she sat down to restore her hair into a semblance of order once again.
But as she brushed her tresses she thought back to just a short while before. When he had pierced her rear channel with that single finger a wisp of something-was it a memory?-had assaulted her. There was something wrong but she did not know what it was. If Kaliq would not answer her call then she must go to her mother.