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Chapter Twenty-Five


Iliaria and Anatharic returned some hours later to inform us that they had not found Damokles. They would continue to search, albeit quietly. At my insistence, Iliaria agreed to be cautious and discreet.

Before Baldavino had been executed, we learned that they had indeed been waiting for us. Baldavino had not only convinced Lucrezia to join him in his treachery, but some of the Underlings as well. The Underlings that had managed to survive the battle were executed at the hands of Vittoria, Vito, and Nirena.

When Lucrezia had seen Iliaria’s sigil on my wrist she had warned Baldavino. They and their Underlings meant to ambush us. But they had not succeeded in killing Renata. Damokles, as Renata had predicted, was not willing to spare Baldavino of his fate, whose ambition made him an easily used pawn.

When we finished interrogating him, Renata moved up behind me, her hand trailing down my arm. She folded her hand over mine where it gripped the fox blade. As if she had given him orders, Vasco moved, withdrawing his blade.

I followed the line of Renata’s body against mine and with her hand wrapped around mine, guiding the sword, we buried the blade in Baldavino’s heart.

I must say, it was much quicker and a great deal less messy than Lucrezia’s execution had been, as the fox blade worked on intent and our intention to kill was most effective. But such an execution had brought me to my own personal realization: I did not enjoy killing.

The eagle blade was destroyed. Vasco had pried the amber stone out with his bare hands and said, “He craved power and wanted more than this.”

“Vasco?” I asked. “Did the sword or the spirit in the sword shape Baldavino’s ambitions?”

He seemed thoughtful. In the end, he shrugged and said, “I do not know, colombina.” He smiled. “I do not think we have to worry about your little fox corrupting you, if that is what you are asking.”

Cuinn had chosen that moment to offer his opinion on the matter. Methinks your Queen does enough corrupting for the both of us. There was a playful lilt to his tone that implied he was teasing, but still, it did not allay my fears. I was not so certain what repercussions the bond between my little fox and I would have, if any. Had Baldavino slowly taken on personality traits of the eagle spirit? Were eagles ambitious?

At court that night, Renata asked the nobles to cast a vote as to whether I was to become an Elder or not, without me going through any further challenges. I do not think any of us really trusted my safety during the trials. And so, the Elders had voted. Those that had voted in my favor had been Vasco, Vittoria and her brother Vito, Nirena, and Sognare. Yet, the vote that had surprised me the most had been Severiano. Severiano, my captor, who had ridden at the head of the Cacciatori and taken me from my human world so long ago.

Alessandra, Lorrenzo, Rosabella, and Gaspare had unsurprisingly voted against me.

Of course, I paid careful attention to my empathy to discern why. The wound in Gaspare’s pride was far too big. Rosabella discriminated against me for the simple fact that I had taken a Draculian lover. Lorrenzo merely did not like me, for whatever reason, and Alessandra strangely seemed to fear me.



I became the eleventh Elder within the Rosso Lussuria. Renata made the Elders cast a vote by a show of hands. Since she had put them on the spot, she gave them no time to argue or quibble or scheme about the matter. After it was decided and declared, she offered me her hand and announced before the Rosso Lussuria, the Underlings, and the Donatore that I was her Inamorata, her consort, her beloved.

To harm me was a death sentence.

It was quite a change from being the Queen’s beloved pet and a quiet Underling.

Elder and Inamorata, I wore the title as proudly as the mark upon my wrist. At long last, I was finally embracing my strengths as well as my weaknesses. I had made Vasco proud, so very proud. I saw it in his eyes every time he looked at me, the brother of my heart.

I gave the Stone of Shadows back to Iliaria for safekeeping. The sword never left my side and Cuinn never left my head, but as I had begun to embrace both my strengths and weaknesses, so Cuinn was learning to embrace that little thing called silence. Well, occasionally, when it suited him.

We talked, of course. I enjoyed getting to know the honorable, clever, and feisty little fox. I learned that he had once been one of the Fatas, a type of fairy creature or nature spirit. He had fallen in love with a druid’s son and the druid had grown angry with him, for he feared losing his only son to Cuinn. I had not learned how he had the ability to wake me.

Cuinn had been trapped and bound to the sword by the earth, by the air, by the fire, and by the sea, a powerful and unbreakable spell.

When I had asked if there was any way I could set him free,he had told me, I am free, Epiphany, though I do not live in your world. I am free, and for the first time in a thousand years, I am happy.

Oddly, for the first time in what seemed a thousand years, I too, was happy.

Iliaria visited often, though the nights were dedicated to Renata. When Iliaria wished to see me, she appeared with the Stone of Shadows and consulted with Renata out of courtesy and respect.

I was growing fond of my Draculian lover, very fond. It was not yet love, but something akin to it. There were nights when Renata shared me, reveling in my reaction to being trapped, aching and trembling between the two of them. Truth be told, she certainly was not the only one reveling.

Tonight was Renata’s night and as such, I knelt in the middle of her room while she set about tying a sash over my eyes. The long tails of the sash trailed down my back, mingling with the fall of my hair. I heard her go to the corner of the room and open the armoire.

The currents of air shifted. Her footsteps sounded again, light and soft. I heard her place a chair not too far from where I knelt.

“Epiphany,” she said, her voice sweet and cruel, promising tender pain and excruciating pleasure. “There are two items on the floor in front of you. Choose one.”

I knew what she wanted.

In some part of me, I had always known.

I folded my hands behind my back and leaned forward. My cheek brushed an item that was long and thin. I caressed the item, turning my face and feeling the wood of the rattan cane glide between my half-parted lips.

I moved to the next item. The leather was as smooth as suede against my cheek. I followed the line of rich cowhide tassels. I knew by the feel of the leather against my cheek that it was a versatile flogger, capable of producing either a sharp, stinging slap or a light, erotic tickle. It all depended on how Renata chose to wield it.

I trailed my face to the base and opened my mouth, catching it between my teeth. Only then, only when I had selected the flogger, did I place my hands on the floor and crawl to her.

The edge of her skirts brushed the tops of my hands and I raised, letting the flogger fall from my lips into her lap.

She laughed and I knew she had retrieved it. “Ti amo,” she said, caressing my face. “Ti amo, cara mia.”

Those fingers tickled down my cheek, sweeping lower to the line of my throat.

There are those Elders that thought less of me because I had been the Queen’s beloved pet, because they believed that love and submission were for the weak of heart and faint of will. On the contrary, I had learned that to love, one must carry a reservoir of great strength. Their judgments and frowns did not trouble me overmuch. Behind the doors to Renata’s bedchambers, she allowed me to be all that I am and more.

She accepted the whole of my being without question, without doubt, and most importantly, without judgment. She did not ask that I restrain any aspect of myself, both the strong and the weak.

I was simply her Epiphany.



Date: 2015-12-24; view: 824


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