ASHE
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Chapter Two
In which the value of blood is considered.
Calypso, astride her horse, regarded with satisfaction the changing colours of the sky. “Laure said that Lammor was attractive, but I didn’t think that it was going to be this good. Hell: the mountains in the distance, this river and these wonderful skies. I suppose I’d eventually tire of the beauty. I almost wish the empress was here to witness the alliance, though she’d have loathed the idea. She’d have fought it tooth and claw.”
“And she wouldn’t have been the only one,” said Alexis, softly. She handed the Mercian leader the water-flask.
“Thanks.” Calypso drank, then looked about her again. “Still doubtful about the idea? Oh, come on, Alexis. It’s ideal: Mercian and Lammor in a close alliance – what could be closer? – will make us invincible. Not that a war’s likely, I grant you, but if one did come along, we’d be in the best possible position to deal with it. Laure’s looking to the future and so am I. Lammor’s been hurt before – nearly crippled, the last time they went to war – and now they’re looking to the future. Allied to us, Lammor is almost certainly safe.”
“How nice and secure for its occupants,” said Alexis. She looked hard at Calypso. “For some reason, I keep imagining a subplot. I wonder why that is.”
Calypso answered the comment and not the doubt. “It will be nice for the princess. Oh, I forgot to tell you about Ashe.” There was a single beat of time, just long enough for Alexis to detect a note of awkwardness in her leader’s voice. “Once the shockwaves have settled, I’ll need to do something about her. According to the princess, Ashe is nothing more than a servant in the court. What a fortunate thing I have spies.”
“So she’s not a servant? Oh, let me guess, she’s a personal servant.”
“Yes. And more than that: it’s gone on some time. She’s a bit of an oddity, from what I hear. Not Lammoran. She’s dark, for one thing. There was once a rumour circulating that she was related to the vampires.”
“How exciting.” Alexis’s tone was strictly non-committal. She fixed her gaze on the horizon. “Am I right in assuming she’s not a vampire?”
“Of course she’s not. Don’t be stupid, Alexis. I wonder how she’ll react to the news.”
“Is she likely to pose a problem?”
“Is that Alexis-speak for do I want you to kill her? No. Well, probably not. If young Ashe is a sensible tree, she won’t want an axe taken to her. Hell: I’d be quite happy to share Ashe – if I find her attractive – but I’m not having the princess keep her on for her own personal use.”
“No, that would just be greedy…” Alexis muttered the words so quietly that Calypso missed them. Alexis shrugged her shoulders and took back the flask. The conversation was closed.
*******
“I almost wish it was all over with. I’m stupidly nervous and I don’t even have to do anything.” Jura looked down onto the courtyard and saw Laure there, dressed in a swathe of coloured silks. “I remember what it was like when you and I were waiting to hit the general public.”
“I couldn’t eat for two days,” said the queen, smiling back at her. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to drop dead from fear alone. “
“When I look at Laure and Ashe it strikes me that they both look rather strained. I don’t think Ashe can have slept in days.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised. When it was our time I was half out of my mind, imagining it all. I was going to announce to my people that I’d chosen as my consort someone from the very country that had once almost decimated this one.”
Jura smiled. “You were very brave.”
“Do you think so?”
“You went ahead and did it, Leanna.”
“Credit where credit’s due, Jura: I wasn’t brave. But I knew what I wanted – I wanted you – and without you, I didn’t want to be queen. I’m not naturally rebellious: I was in love with you. You were the only reason I didn’t mind becoming queen. “I got what I wanted,” she added. “How many people can say the same? I was lucky.”
“We both were.”
“Not straight away, love. It took work, remember? Don’t forget the uproar. The Elders went half-mad. I saw one of them tear out huge bunches of her hair. The only person who supported me there was Rhea. Once she stood up and announced that the whole thing had been foreseen, everything became alright. Well, my mother nearly had a heart-attack, but she was always having attacks when I did something she didn’t approve of.”
“You hardly hear anyone mention Rhea’s name these days. The Elders will have nothing to do with her. They think she let the side down…”
“She likes her solitude, but it’s more than that. I would have happily had her live on in the court, but she insisted on going. She’s always been a very private person. She told me once that she rather enjoyed shocking the Elders. But I still go to see her, sometimes. Ashe, too.”
Jura said, “And Cairo.” They both laughed.
“Laure never goes. I think she rather looks down on the idea of wise-women.”
“That’s odd. I thought she sent to Rhea the other day.”
“Really? Sent to her? How odd. That’s the best possible way to put Rhea’s back up. I wonder what Laure wanted.”
“Advice about the ceremony? Maybe just a reading.”
“I wonder. I want to ask her how she feels about tomorrow, but somehow I can’t bring myself to do so. Sometimes she makes me nervous. I keep meaning to do it, and then I don’t. It’s just that for some time now, I’ve gotten the impression that something’s going on with Laure.”
“What sort of something?”
“I don’t know. The more I see of her, the less I understand her. Ashe is easier to read.”
“You think so?” Jura raised her eyebrows. “I always thought she was rather good at keeping her true thoughts under wraps.”
“Really? Well, you could be right. It seems ironic now that when the guards first brought her here, I thought she was some kind of demon; the embodiment of some kind of threat. Then I talked to her, and found that she was just a child.”
“A rather odd and lonely child.”
“As you say. I wish we knew something about her history. It can’t be easy for Ashe, having no knowledge of her own people.”
“I’ve always thought she looked a little like one of the Norrad.”
“Really? I suppose she could be - colouring and so on.”
“But that’s all, ” said Jura. “To be honest, emotionally she seems more like…”
“More like what? Or whom?”
Jura shook her head. “I don’t know… For one moment there I did know. Then the thought just dissipated. It was odd. I wish I could remember.”
“Too much of Rhea’s brandy in the old days?”
“You know,” laughing, “she still brews it. Cairo’s a devotee. Ashe, too. And they both know it’s illegal.”
“I wonder why I’m finding it so hard to talk to Laure. She knows what’s expected, she’s word-perfect in her lines. Why should there be a problem? Probably I’m just imagining things.”
“She’s not very like you,” said Jura. “At the risk of being offensive, I think she’s less brave.”
“Oh, she’s brave enough,” said the queen, a little tartly: she didn’t like Jura’s remark. “But Laure’s had an easy time of it so far. She might have been better suited to a shared rule in Lammor if she’d had a few challenges along the way. We’ve been a long time without a war.”
Jura went to the west window and looked out. “For which I’m almost stupidly grateful. Oh, I can see Laure from here. She looks cross - there’s poor Siras positively jumping out of her way. You know, much as I love Laure, I can’t help thinking that she might be a little kinder if she was a little less lovely. She knows how attractive she is, of course. You’re beautiful, too, but it doesn’t blind you to the feelings of other people.”
Leanna said, wryly, “Thanks. But I know what you mean. Of late I’ve noticed that Ashe looks less and less happy. Sometimes I’ve wondered if something had gone wrong between them. She looks so sad.”
“I’ve noticed. I tried talking to her, too, but she just smiled and said that everything was fine.”
“I think I’ll feel better – in mind at least – when tomorrow’s over and done with. Then the two of them can start sorting things out on a more equal footing.”
Jura said, “You’ve never treated me as anything other than a full partner, but Laure treats Ashe a little sharply, sometimes. And I hear rumours.”
Leanna felt suddenly too tired to continue the conversation. A dull ache had begun again inside the encompass of her ribs, and she looked away from Jura as she replied, “Me, too. But of course it’s very hard to be completely private at court. Rumours abound.” She turned and smiled at Jura. “I’m sure those particular stories aren’t true.”
*******
Ashe walked briskly toward the city gates, to the east of which Rhea had her tower. In supporting the queen, all that time before, by going against the rule of her sister Elders, Rhea had rocketed herself into sudden isolation. Whether she cared or not, no-one knew. Leaving court the same day, Rhea had asked for a temporary possession of the old seer’s tower. Leanna just gave it to her, and in the years that had followed, Rhea had been seen less and less. Only Cairo remained a regular visitor, but her family and Rhea’s had been close for years. And Ashe visited, too, though by no means as often as Cairo. The captain, Ashe thought, was the probably the closest thing that Rhea had to family.
Ashe’s first visit to the wise-woman had been something of a shock to her system. She had never forgotten the short ceremony that had taken place. Hard to forget, too, with the crescent moon scar that marked the palm of her left hand ever afterwards.
At the time of that first meeting, Ashe had been sceptical and nervous. She was working so hard to fit in to a strictly-ruled society after years without rules or expectations that she was afraid of anything that might challenge it. The court training of Ashe had been a long slow process that would only reach its conclusion the next day, and since its beginning, Ashe had never been quite the same. She had emerged from years of training serious, quiet and almost pathologically self-contained.
During the months and years of teaching, Ashe had learned about politics; the history of Lammor; Lammoran beliefs; mythology; etiquette; the presentation of food and flowers; the practice of medicine; the preparation of basic drugs; the many uses of perfumed oils. She could identify and employ – they all had uses – any Lammoran flower; could cook, ride and fight. In addition to the education forced upon her, Ashe had read every book in the library. But before Ashe could become Laure’s companion, both the queen and Jura talked privately with Ashe, afterwards comparing notes.
“I think she’ll do,” said Leanna. “I made a good choice there.”
Jura said, “Was it really necessary to give the child such an extensive education? She looks exhausted. She looks… hollow.”
“Of course it was necessary.” Leanna resented the implication. “And as to the tiredness, well, that’ll pass. It won’t kill her. And besides, she had a choice. She didn’t need to agree to the training.”
But of course Ashe had had no choice. Not really. Jura was sure of that. Adrift in a strange world, Ashe had done her best to fit in, even the process demanded the eclipse of most of her personality.
Dearly as she loved the queen, there were times when Leanna was too unfeeling for Jura. “I doubt if she felt she had much choice,” she observed, correctly. She added, “Doesn’t it ever bother you, though? The degree of restraint that she exhibits these days is… almost frightening.”
“You had an equally hard time of it.”
“Yes and no. For one thing, I was older. And for another, you didn’t force a Lammoran education upon me: I learned what I did because I wanted to understand you and your country.”
“Everything Ashe learned will be of use to her. She knows everything now that she will need to know.”
Jura muttered, “Except for how to crack a smile…” She hesitated, then added, “I know what it’s like to have to work so hard to fit in. You were sure that you wanted me, but you were the only one who did. I never felt as if I was here on approval, but I think that Ashe does. I had a choice: Ashe never did.”
Leanna shrugged. “I’m sorry you feel like that.”
Jura saw that the conversation was over. She went to the door, hesitated, then said, “May I tell Ashe about the royal decision?” Her tone was lightly ironic.
Leanna said, “You have royal consent to do so.” Her voice was free of irony.
On the day in question, Jura found Ashe sitting illegally perched at the top of the palace’s tallest tower. The ledge on which Ashe sat was wholly precarious, but the girl was swinging her legs over the three hundred-foot drop without any evidence of fear. The ledge was three feet wide, and edged with marble, its floor tiled with the images of a myriad of flowers.
Lammor was famous for its flowers: there were over two thousand tiles in the palace, each showing a different bloom. Ashe could thus sit on a yellow poppy, and rest her feet on a white-and-purple-striped belba. She looked up as Jura approached, and would have moved, had Jura not said, “Stay where you are. I’ll come to you. You look far too comfortable to shift.” Far too vulnerable, too, she thought. The drop made Jura dizzy, so she settled for just sitting on the low wall above Ashe.
Bright sunlight streamed down on them both. Ashe had hardly slept, the night before: mild exhaustion and the day’s heat were pulling her down.
Jura said, “You like it up here, I know. I’ve often seen you up here before.” Ashe nodded. “I come up here, too, sometimes. I like to watch the eagles over the distant mountains. You didn’t come to Lascar by that route, did you?”
Ashe shook her head. “Through the forests,” she said. “And across the plain.” Across the semi-desert where both she and Cora had expected to die.
“What about the sea?”
“We stayed two seasons on the sea. I don’t think we would have survived coming through the mountains.”
“Ten people died there, this last winter alone. Their bodies weren’t found for a long time, and even then, with the wolves and the birds, there wasn’t much left…”
“I know,” said Ashe. “I saw the remains brought in. Half-frozen. Half-preserved.” She glanced up at Jura and said, “Are you ever homesick?”
“Homesick? I don’t know… I should say that Lammor is my home now,” said Jura. “But, yes, of course: I do miss my own country. How about you?”
“Sometimes,” said Ashe, shortly. Jura knew that Ashe wasn’t going to elaborate.
“You’ve had a lot of tutoring, Ashe.”
“Oh, yes.” Oh, yes… Lots and lots of tutoring. And a little sarcasm from the tutor when it might amuse Laure, and maybe a beating or two when Ashe wasn’t smart enough.
“Are you sure that you want to become Laure’s companion? It’ll mean more things to learn.” It struck Jura, as she spoke, that no-one had asked this of Ashe before. The girl raised her head and looked Jura in the face. Jura’s eyes were dark, but their shade was nothing compared to Ashe’s, which seemed to absorb the light. It seemed to Jura at that short, shocked moment, that Ashe didn’t look wholly… human.
“I love Laure,” said Ashe, simply. “If I want to continue to be near her, I have to qualify as a companion. So I must accept what needs to be done. Sometimes my head spins with all the words. I’ve learned facts that I can’t imagine ever needing, and none of it seems to have anything to do with choice, affection or trust.” She pressed her hands together; it was almost an attitude of prayer.
“If you’re not accepted? What would you do then?”
“Go,” said Ashe. She’d clearly considered the possibility. “Oh, I suppose I could stay here, with the queen’s permission to do so. I’ve been offered a job in the library, if the rest doesn’t work out. But if I’m not accepted, I think I’d rather just go. I’d like to get back to the sea.”
“What about the mountains?”
Ashe’s expression flickered. She hesitated for a moment and then shook her head. “I’m going there,” she said, “before I reach the sea.” As she said it, she knew without doubt that the statement was true, though she hadn’t the slightest idea why.
“I didn’t come out here to cross-examine you, Ashe. I came out to tell you that it’s been agreed that you are to be Laure’s companion. The announcement will be made in the court one week from today. Leanna wanted to announce it tonight, but…” She hesitated. Ashe watched her.
“But…?”
“Ashe, I’m new to this country, too. And I’ve been the queen’s consort for almost all of that time. I’ve been thinking about how I felt when I first came here, and I know that I’ve had to make a lot of changes to fit in. Laure is lovely, yes, and she can be charming, but you may feel that too much is being asked of you. Take a few days, Ashe. Go outside the city and travel for a week. Think about what you want, and what you want to do. When you’re decided, come back.”
“Or not,” said Ashe.
“Or not,” agreed Jura.
*******
Ashe had gone. And for ten days, not a week. Laure hadn’t wanted Ashe to go, and that little rebellion had been Ashe’s first. Shortly after Ashe returned to court, the announcement was made, and Ashe did her best to feel happy, but felt that she had lost something by coming back. She would always be subordinate to Laure. Somehow by loving Laure enough to come back, she had relinquished any power she’d ever possessed.
*******
Ashe reached the top of the staircase and paused for breath. Normally heights didn’t bother her – nor did exercise; she was swimming or riding every day – but on this exceptional day she found herself oddly frightened, and when she was frightened her breath came more quickly.
It felt strange to have been summoned into Rhea’s presence: normally she would call in on the wise-woman at least once a week, more if the palace was quiet and Laure could manage without her. The sense of unease that Ashe had woken up with was becoming more visceral and less understood. The door to the tower room was pushed back, so that the sunlight could fall into the room in which Rhea worked, slept and ate.
Ashe had always liked Rhea’s room. To her it smacked of the kind of life she might have wanted to have if her destiny had not been decided and its constructs out of her control. As she stepped inside she looked to her right, where the fire burned on the other side. Between Ashe and the fire lay the wonderful, sun-and-time-faded carpet with its host of Lammoran flowers. Lascan lilies, yellow and red, wound around the border, their leaves opening up among blue Lascan poppies, delicate yellow perle, the purple and white belba with its bright red stamens, and the tiny, winding, violet gulls-foot. It was an object for contemplation: Ashe liked it more than anything in the city.
Rhea had been in her store cupboard, which was large enough to hide half a dozen guards. She stepped back, her forehead creased in vexation, but she stopped and smiled when she saw Ashe. “My dear,” she said, “I’m glad you had time enough to visit me.”
“Always,” said Ashe, nicely. She smiled back. “Cairo told me that you’d asked me to visit.”
Rhea watched Ashe. The princess’s favourite looked tired and hollow. Rhea said, “I have been brewing rose tea. You must try some.”
Ashe nodded, smiled again, said, “That would be nice.”
“Oh, sit down, sit down. There’s never any need to stand on ceremony with me, Ashe. You should know that by now.”
Ashe sat down on the carpet, cross-legged. She put her hands down to feel the tentative embrace of the wool and silk weave. The feel of the wool and silk weave brought the suggestion of a distant memory back to Ashe. She scowled, struggling to place the sensation. Her expression touched Rhea’s heart. She could have told Ashe that the missing memory was the touch of wet sand, as felt by Ashe and Cora both when they returned to land after months at sea. The ability to see the past as well as the future was an accomplishment Rhea had never shared with anyone. She watched Ashe try to recollect, fail and turn to the moment instead. Ashe said, “You always say to treat this place like home, and I would so much like to, but - ”
“But you can’t,” said Rhea. “I know. I blame that on the direction of your court education. I’ve always regretted not pushing the point with the queen and having you educated you here as my apprentice before she had inflicted upon you what she felt to be what matters. What did she call it? I remember: necessary accomplishments. Ashe, looking at you now I believe with all my heart that the only accomplishment you’ve achieved is the ability to sublimate your own desires and feelings to such an extent that you’d have to mine for them now. At least with me you would have been allowed to keep your emotions. With me you would have learned about what really matters.”
Ashe stared at her. “I didn’t know,” she said. “I had no idea that my being educated by you was ever an option. I’d… I’d have loved that.” And she would have done. She felt confused and uncomfortable. Like Cairo, Ashe was accustomed to Rhea’s rants against the Elders and the palace – they both found these rants immensely amusing – but she had never before heard Rhea object to anything that Ashe herself had experienced.
“The opportunity never arose. Let’s look at it that way. And if I was honest I’d have to say that the skills you’ve learned will undoubtedly suit life at the palace in every respect. I’m prejudiced, I daresay. I’ve never enjoyed watching potential strangled at birth. I was just sad to see you formed into an educated puppet for the princess’s use.” She put a horrible emphasis onto the last word.
The hurt showed in Ashe’s eyes. “An educated puppet?”
“Yes, Ashe, and it hurts me to say it. You would have made a good apprentice. You still could, if you could bear to turn your back on the little princess. She’d never make an apprentice.” Ashe heard real bitterness in Rhea’s voice. “It would be too hard for her to come down from the pedestal that you all put her on, and dirty her hands. Laure knows all she needs to know, or thinks she does. But I had hopes of you. Cairo too would have done had she not been such a happy sensualist. Cairo’s eminently content with what she has, and I suspect that she’ll always be happier than you.” Rhea looked at Ashe. “I’m not sure when you’ll learn how to be happy. Here’s your tea.”
Ashe blinked and took the cup, staring at it blankly. She’d never heard the wise-woman so angry before and the change worried her. Palace etiquette would not have approved her next move, but Ashe made it all the same. “Rhea,” she said, “why are you telling me all this now? What’s happened to make you so angry?”
Rhea took a cup of the rose tea for herself and sat down on a chair across the floor from Ashe. She took a deep breath, settled herself, and sighed. “You’re right. I am angry. I have been angry all day. Oh, I might as well just say it; I’m no good with social niceties.” Ashe looked at her, eyebrows lifted, every encouragement she could muster projecting. It never even occurred to her to wonder if she might not want to hear the explanation.
“At the celebrations tomorrow, Ashe, you will be waiting to hear the princess name you as her consort. She won’t. She’s formed some kind of insane alliance with Calypso, the – ”
“The leader of the Mercian forces,” said Ashe. “She took on the role after the death of the empress. She’s an amazing soldier; she has one of the strongest armies known.”
“And a bloody and defined role it’s been and will doubtless continue to be. I cannot imagine what reason Laure could have for allying herself with someone like that – although of course there’s the obvious reason – but it’s going to happen and it will be announced tomorrow. In the palace. Before the entire court and all the guests.” Rhea ran out of air; in her rush to be rid of the knowledge she had forgotten to breathe. She wheezed a little and added, suddenly, “Ashe, I am so sorry.”
The blood inside Ashe’s head was not circulating properly. There could be no other reason for the dizziness she felt. She said, slowly, “The obvious reason? Rhea, I’m sorry… What is the obvious reason?”
Rhea looked at Ashe for a moment before saying, “Ashe, they’re lovers.”
*******
Ashe walked for a long time that day. On leaving Rhea’s tower she achieved the three hundred stairs without thought or grace and had made her way out into the city with thought or plan. Her head was spinning. She stopped at the first open wine shop she passed and sat down at a table outside. Her legs weren’t working properly.. To hell with how early it was, to hell with how unsuitable it was for her to be sitting there. To hell with every last blamed thing… The proprietor recognised Ashe, because it wasn’t the usual sweetly-flavoured tree-sap that they served her, it was good perle wine. And when they asked her if she wanted anything else, Ashe just shook her head.
*******
Rhea had tried to undo some of the damage, or at least limit it, but Ashe was too far gone for that. After a while she had said, “Rhea,…I know you don’t like the princess, but I’ve loved Laure for a stupidly long time. Is there really no hope left?”
“I’ve consulted the cards a dozen times since I first heard and no, Ashe, there is no hope left for you in Lammor. The princess will take on the joint rule of the city and the country with her mother and in due course will inherit this land, she and her new consort. There is no place left here for you. I’m afraid that it’s worse than that. I consulted the runes, too, and I have read that if you remain within the city another day, there will be nothing further that I can do for you.”
Ashe went to the door. She gently pushed it open. Sunlight streamed through.
“What are you going to do, Ashe?” asked Rhea.
Ashe looked past her. “I don’t know.”
“Whatever else you do,” said Rhea, “Don’t tell the princess that you know. It’s your one remaining strength. It could keep you alive. If you tell her… I don’t know what will happen to you.”
Ashe nodded. “Alright,” she said.
*******
An hour later, two hours later, she sat in silence, drinking little, failing to think. She sat there until the afternoon died and the evening began. Then she stood up, left some coins on the table and began to walk toward the palace.
With each step Ashe took, her understanding grew. Now she possessed an explanation for Laure’s changed moods, changed behaviour and sudden bursts of anger or affection. For ten years she’d shared a life with Laure. For four of those years she had shared Laure’s bed. For ten far-from-easy years she’d worked to be accepted by the society she’d adopted as her own. The thought of Laure’s deceit sickened her as an admission of Laure’s new lover could not have done.
She was still light-headed from shock when she reached the palace. Her feet had taken her automatically into the main hall, where she stood, stupid and aching, the bustle all around her overwhelming. She was about to make her way back out, to find Cairo, or Orchid, or absolutely anyone else in the world, when Ruth saw her. “Ashe!” she snapped.
Ashe turned slowly round. Control began to slip from her with each passing breath. A more perceptive or imaginative person than Ruth would have seen the threat in those dark eyes, but Ruth was so happy to have Ashe captive that she simply babbled out Laure’s latest message. When Ruth had stopped talking, Ashe stood looking at her. A little angrily, Ruth said, “Ashe, did you hear what I just told you? Laure wants you. Now. Where have you been when you should have been with the princess?”
Ashe shook her head to clear it. She looked at Ruth and said, “If it seems that I don’t ever listen to you, it’s simply because I don’t. I never hear what you say, because it’s never interesting.”
Ruth stared. Ashe grinned horribly at her. “But thank you for this latest jewel. Thank you, Ruth: you’ve just made my existence worthwhile.”
“What is the matter with you, Ashe?” Ruth took a deep breath and the look of disapproval with which she invariably regarded Ashe intensified as she said, accusingly, “The princess won’t be happy to know that you’ve been out drinking when she needed you here.”
“Yes…” said Ashe. “That’s what I’ve been doing. Drinking. Rose tea and I think two cups of wine. Heady stuff. You should try it some time.”
Ruth stared at her. “You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not. You’d think I am, but I’m not. I’m horribly sober. I couldn’t be less drunk if I tried.”
She began to walk away. She heard Ruth shout out after her, but she did not catch the words. Nor did she care. She simply kept walking.
She climbed the main staircase, past all the decorations. She heard the chatter from behind her as Columbine and the others added final details to the sugar flowers. To think that only hours ago she had actually cared about the arrangement of sugar flowers… Her head was spinning. The morning of that other world seemed very far away.
Laure’s rage had been building for hours. The touch of guilt she had earlier felt she had allowed fury to eclipse. When Ashe walked in, the princess spun around. “At last!” she said. “I sent Ruth to fetch you hours ago.” Ashe sat on the edge of the royal bed and said nothing.
Laure waited for Ashe to say something, and then when she did not, Laure continued to brush her hair. She had her back to Ashe while she worked.
“Everyone says that we’ll have a fine day for tomorrow’s ceremony.” Ashe felt her mouth go dry. She tried to keep her breathing steady. “What have you been doing, Ashe?”
“Oh, just… things,” said Ashe. “A swim, a little tidying up, a little decorating. Just… ordinary things.” Laure could smile at her: it wasn’t going to cost the princess anything, now. Laure didn’t have to put up with Ashe for very much longer. Laure could be as nice or as repellent as she chose to be. Laure could spare Ashe a smile or two. What a shame that Ashe didn’t seem to appreciate the attention.
Laure had always found the practice of keeping secrets to be mildly erotic. When she had taken Ashe as a bed-mate she had insisted on their not sharing a room, whilst insisting that Ashe behaved with decorum at all times. This was another way of saying that once Laure’s door was locked at night, only a passing goddess might be admitted. There hadn’t been many passing goddesses in the past four years – a dozen at most – but Ashe hadn’t even suspected them, which made the whole process much more satisfying to Laure.
Now that she was within hours of seeing Calypso again, Laure had been thinking almost constantly about the days and nights (mostly the nights) that lay ahead of them. In consequence, she’d been aware of a growing sense of arousal. Almost without thinking, more to scratch an itch than anything else, she’d sent for Ashe. And now that everything was almost sorted, now that her time with Ashe was almost finished, Laure felt a wash of kindness, a feeling of affection for Ashe. She swivelled round in her chair, knowing how lovely she looked, knowing that it would be impossible for Ashe not to admire her. She shook her hair so that it floated across her shoulders and down her back. She looked to see what effect she was having on her almost ex-partner. Ashe wasn’t even looking at her. “Come here,” said the princess.
Ashe got to her feet. Her co-ordination was fading and her heart was beginning to hurt – how strange that the pain really should be settled there – but she was still adhering to the old rules and she obeyed Laure’s order. She walked across the room and stood before the princess.
Her gaze fixed on Ashe’s face, Laure undid the first few buttons of the bodice of her dress. She waited, but Ashe simply stood motionless. Laure pulled the bodice open enough to show the gentle swell of her cleavage, and put her hands on her hips. Imperiously, she regarded Ashe. Ashe couldn’t even bear to meet her stare.
When Laure began undoing the buttons of Ashe’s linen shirt, Ashe could do nothing. Something inside her was dying, and that death was almost blindingly painful. She watched Laure’s delicate hands working on the buttons and laces of her leather shirt, watched as Laure put her hands down to Ashe’s belt, where she undid the buckle. The belt dropped with a clatter to the floor. Ashe had the sense of watching the entire scene from miles and miles away.
Laure was tugging Ashe’s shirt loose of her trousers when the door opened. No-one had ever dared to walk in the princess before, which transgression silenced her for an instant. Ashe had her back to the door, but she saw a rush of emotions cross Laure’s face. She heard the door click shut and then heard a voice say, “Not quite the reception I had in mind, but I’m open to experimentation. Question is, should I sit down and watch, or do I join in?”
Ashe thought: Calypso. It has to be. As a coda to that she then thought: why didn’t I just go? Too late now. Fool.
Laure began to say something, but the words were rushed and thoughtless and made little sense.
Calypso grinned at them both and walked over the Laure’s bed. She plumped up three pillows, arranged them at the head of the bed and sat down against them. She glanced across to the young woman who had accompanied her, and who now stood, sentry-like, before the door. “Alexis, I don’t think I’ll be needing you – this time – but perhaps you’d be good enough to make sure that no-one else joins us. A threesome is all very well, but it’s been a long day, and I don’t think I have sufficient energy left for an orgy.” As the door closed, she looked across at Laure and Ashe. “Please,” she said, in tones of deeply ironic but entirely perfect courtesy, “don’t let me stop you.”