Knight of Lust Ch. 15 (Finale)

Darkness gave way to flickering sapphire flames. Rune-etched rocks burst from the void, forming the great island where he'd visited Solveig. Great maws of darkness opened within the rock. From the darkness emerged a soft sound: the cry of a bird, perhaps. No... the bleating of an elk.

Frowning, Caderyn stepped into the murky shadows. More sounds rippled from the great void. When he cocked his head to the left, the noise was a bloodcurdling scream. Yet when he tilted his head in the other direction, the sound was a soft, sonorous wail of pleasure. Both sounds sent conflicting chills through his body. Both sounds beckoned him further into darkness.

He emerged within the very same cavern where he'd bred Solveig during the ritual. Glowing blue vines emerged from the pool of sacred water, entwining around rune-etched boulders. Pinned to the boulder in the center of the chamber was the voluptuous witch. Blue runes adorned her pale curves. Hungry, icy blue eyes stared at him as she entered. Her curvaceous body rippled against the bindings and her wide hips bucked invitingly.

Reality blurred around him and he found himself shifting through the air, stopping right before the bound, begging witch.

"Once more, Caderyn," she rasped, her lips panting with need.

Those hungry words dispelled the conscious knowledge that this was but a dream. Taking hold of his shaft, he guided himself towards her sex. When they'd first made love, he'd teased her mercilessly before claiming and breeding her, but he lacked the strength for such games in that moment.

Growling, he leaned forward and shifted his hips, driving himself deep inside her. The very moment that his hips settled against hers, the air rippled around the witch. Blue light flashed and a new lover replaced her.

Now Yvonne was pinned upon the altar beneath him. Her curly blonde hair splayed out upon the rock, her ample, pale breasts heaving with effort. Soft legs rose, wrapping around his waist, keeping him trapped inside her. A jolt of regret and revulsion struck him. Back in Jadewall, she'd seduced him and had nearly swayed him into fucking her, but only Caderyn's love for her half-sister Melisent had warded off his desire.

And yet he had no such self-control now. Overwhelmed by the warmth of her body and the depraved sensation of breeding his rival's trueborn daughter, Caderyn leaned pulled his hips back, preparing for another plunge.

Her soft, trembling cry ripped through the air. More blue light flashed as she clenched around him. The pulse of light banished Yvonne and replaced her with none other than Tessandra. The blonde bard writhed beneath him, her green eyes gleaming, her slender limbs shaking against the rune-etched rock.

"How cruel of you, to deny me the gift you gave Solveig," she said, pouting up at him and fluttering her lashes.

A flash of desperate confusion ripped through his mind. During all their time together, Tessandra had never once begged to be bred as Solveig had. Such an act would have created considerable scandal, and they'd taken care to avoid any such complications.

And yet there she was, biting her lip beneath him, her body adorned with the same sacred fertility runes that had marked Solveig's body.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

In response, Tessandra leaned up, straining against the bonds. Unable to resist the allure of her red-painted lips, he leaned down to give her a slow and gentle kiss.

"Of course it's what I want," she murmured with worshipful devotion, as her slender thighs tightened around his powerful hips.

And just as before, the very moment he delivered the first firm thrust, blue light flashed and her body shifted.

Pelagia replaced the bard, her freckled, athletic body just as helpless within the glowing blue vines as the other women had been. Her short, sweaty red curls clung to her freckled skin as she stared up at him. Unlike the others, she was not content simply to lie there and take it.

Instead she grasped his waist tightly with her powerful legs and rocked up against him. Caderyn shuddered and groaned, reveling in the sensations. Even though afflicted by the power of the dream, he had enough sense to hold back, knowing that a single thrust from him would cause the vision to shift.

"Are you sure?" Caderyn murmured, grunting a little with that last word.

"Absolutely," Pelagia growled back. "Your strength and mine together? Imagine the sort of knight such a child could become."

The vines quaked and snapped. One firm hand lurched free of the bindings and reached down to grip the small of his back. Unable to resist, Caderyn cried out and plowed his hips forward, sheathing himself fully within the knight.

Blue light flashed. To his shock and chagrin, another lover did not replace Pelagia upon the rune-etched altar. Instead the stone melted away and Caderyn collapsed into the holy pond. Sputtering, he spat out the water and rose to his feet. Water rippled around him, dancing over his muscular form. The droplets flashed with bright blue light and shifted into armored scales. Clad in that strange and bestial armor, Caderyn frowned and looked around the chamber.

Another cry echoed from the darkness up ahead. Confusion and fear took hold. Caderyn broke into a sprint, vanishing into the shadows. Red light rippled from within the void, giving shape to another chamber.

No. Not a chamber, but a cobblestone street. Lining either side of it were small, humble homes and shops. The moon pulsed in the night sky overhead. In the middle of the quaint, quiet street was the ducal carriage: the very same one his mother had used the night of the attempt on her life.

His skin crawled with the realization of where he was.

Whirling, he turned towards the tavern where he'd been brawling with Gwion when Duchess Sarya had arrived to take him home on the night of the attack. Heart racing and muscles tensing, he sprinted forth and slammed into the door. It shattered into splinters.

In the midst of the sandy fighting pit stood his brother Berent. The young redheaded man was clad in armor of green scales; within each hand was an emerald-adorned dagger. Blood dripped from those bejeweled blades, forming a great and grisly pool at Berent's feet.

"What did you do?" Caderyn hissed.

Berent merely smiled and pointed with the bloody daggers at a room to the far end of the tavern. A long streak of blood ran from the fighting pit to the door, sending another chill through Caderyn's heart. What grisly work had Berent hidden behind that door?

Horror rose, mingling with his fury at Berent. He broke into another sprint, brushing past his brother, and reached for the doorknob. Ice coiled around his wrist and he paused, his heart racing with dark thoughts of what rested beyond.

After a deep breath, he leaned back and slammed his foot against the door, sending it flying inwards.

The dream shattered and his eyes flashed open. Caderyn was upon his bedroll in a large tent, with empty bedrolls beside him. Shuddering with alarm, he darted to his feet and flailed about for his sword. Ice filled his muscles as he took hold of the blade.

Cheers thundered from outside the tent. Sword in hand and fury in his heart, Caderyn stormed outside.

He stopped in his tracks as sunlight washed over his face. Before him loomed the keep of Baron Aelred: the ancient tower of black stone standing tall and unbroken over a mess of shattered walls and ruptured fortifications. Beneath it rested the blackened corpse of the market town. Beyond the town's ruins was the great siege camp that had been in place for months.

Nearly bursting into delirious laughter with the realization that he was no longer dreaming, Caderyn shuddered. Around him, confused and freshly-awoken soldiers bowed towards the shirtless, armed duke.

Another wave of cheers rose as a trebuchet unleashed a heavy stone that crashed into the side of the great black tower. The impact left nothing more than a faint blemish and the debris of the projectile tumbled down onto the other ruins below.

Slow, deep breaths settled Caderyn's mind and he focused on the present moment and the waking world.

After the death of Lucan, Aelred had pulled most of his forces back towards Stonecurrent, leaving his fortress behind. Rather than expend lives with bloody assaults, Caderyn's forces had merely bypassed the fortress, leaving behind a small force to keep it isolated and surrounded. Over the months of war, the fortress had held firm against the siege. During the journey back to Fellhaven, Caderyn and his escort had stopped at the siege camp to rest and resupply. Despite the death of Aelred, his son, and the defeat of Thandor, Aelred's knights had managed to stubbornly cling to the castle. Even with the war over in Jadewall itself, Aelred's loyal fools had stood firm within their dead lord's keep.

After watching the bombardment for a few more moments, he slipped back into his tent to don his sturdy tabard, trousers, leather boots, and a bearskin cape. Now looking more like a proper warrior-duke, he strode out in search of the camp's commander.

He found Pelagia and Sir Lambert within a small wooden watchtower erected for optimal visibility over the siegeworks. Once Caderyn joined them, the grizzled old knight greeted the duke with a bow, while Pelagia gave him a dutiful nod.

The dream flickered within the shadows of his mind, recalling how eager Pelagia had been for him to breed her. That seemed a ridiculous notion now, and yet he still half-hardened within his trousers.

Sir Lambert's dull, dutiful report on the state of the siege helped dispel such desires.

"As you can see, my duke, we've reduced nearly every aspect of the fortifications save for the central tower. The old Empire's engineers certainly were masters of their craft. We now have more than a dozen direct approaches for an assault, though."

"No," Caderyn said. "Victory is already ours, there is no need to spill more blood of our loyal soldiers. We will wait them out."

"Their obstinance is an insult to you, my duke. The fact that they still fight on despite Aelred's death and Thandor's capture is-"

"A feat of valor, I daresay," said Pelagia. "Aye, they fight in the name of a dead traitor, but I cannot doubt their courage."

Lambert's lips curled into a vicious sneer but he offered no rebuke.

"And what was their response to the latest terms?" Caderyn asked.

"Laughter and a bucket of piss tossed towards the emissary. They still respect the white flag, however. Perhaps they are in fact guided by a twisted sort of honor."

"Then I shall go," Caderyn said with a nod. "Under the white flag, of course, and with a sufficient escort."

Lambert's wrinkled face twitched but he did not dare defy his duke.

"Of course, my lord. I shall make the arrangements."

**

After donning his full array of armor, Caderyn rode forth with Pelagia and two dozen knights towards the great keep of black stone. Their route took them through the market town that had been forcibly evacuated and sacked by his forces in an attempt to force the defenders to submit.

During his last visit, Aelred had given Caderyn a grand and warm welcome, with no hint of his planned betrayal. It was also during his stay there when Caderyn had confessed to Melisent the full truth of his connection to Solveig. That painful confession had irrevocably altered their bond.

And yet thoughts of his future wife sent icy knives through his heart. After everything he'd learned in Jadewall, it seemed that Thandor had been telling the truth about his innocence, at least as far as the conspiracy was concerned. It thus meant that Melisent was either lying or mistaken about her father's involvement.

Even as they crossed within the great tower's shadow, he could not tear his mind away from those doubts. Had Thandor just weaved another lie after his defeat in order to sow distrust? Had Melisent lied to Caderyn about who had procured the poison? And what was Berent's connection to that baffling chain of events? Thandor claimed to have given Berent an emerald-adorned dagger and a matching gem had been found on the body of the assassin Andros in Ravenmark. Furthermore, Berent had been the one to lead and guide the investigation. Could he have steered Caderyn like a puppet? Or was it all a mere coincidence?

"My duke," said one of the knights, snapping Caderyn back to the present.

He looked up with a jolt, realizing they were within only fifty paces of the keep's great gates. Knights loyal to the memory of a dead traitor stood guard along the parapets. The small garrison likely had enough supplies to last for months and the keep would prove quite costly to take with a direct assault.

Pelagia and another knight rode at Caderyn's side, each wielding a white flag.

"Who holds the command?" Caderyn asked.

One of the knights raised a hand and removed his helmet, revealing a young face framed by sweaty auburn hair.

"I do, my lord. I am Sir Mordren: distant kin to Baron Aelred, and I was appointed as his regent during his absence."

"And does the regency still persist despite Aelred's death?"

"You're not the first to try to sway us with lies, my lord. Sir Lambert's messengers have been pestering us with supposed news of Baron Aelred's death."

"And has he told you of Thandor's fall?"

Judging by the stricken glances that appeared on Mordren's face and those of his companions, it seemed that news had not yet reached them.

"I wouldn't be here myself if Thandor was still loose," said Caderyn. "He languishes within the dungeon of his own palace, alongside his barons and Sir Jehan. Aelred rots in his grave back in Jadewall. And his son Lucan..."

The mere mention of the boy named after Caderyn's own father sent a chill through him.

"What of young Lucan?" Mordren asked.

"Dead," said Caderyn.

"All the more reason for us to fight on to avenge him," the knight barked back.

Caderyn sighed and looked over his shoulder at the soldiers within the siege camp. Since his best troops had been necessary for the fighting in the south, most of the besiegers were peasants or lesser knights. Reinforcements would arrive over the coming days to bolster the besieging forces, but he still did not wish to see a single drop of blood spilled for the sake of a dead man's keep.

"Lucan was a brave lad, just like his namesake. His father sent him away before battle, but he rode back to try to help nonetheless. In the confusion of the retreat, he was cut down by one of Aelred's archers."

"Lies," Mordren snapped. "For all we know, you fed that poor brave boy to your northern cannibals."

"Appoint a party of emissaries, then," Caderyn said. "A dozen or so of your men can ride to Jadewall under escort, where they can talk with the prisoners who can attest to what happened. Some might even be able to show them to where young Lucan and Aelred were buried. If this is proven to you, would you yield? You would have nothing to fight for at that point."

Mordren scowled.

"And what stops us from being fed to your northern mercenaries?"

"The fact that you have held this keep for so long is a testament to your skill and honor. If you yield, your lives will be spared. Titles will be stripped away, of course, and it will be up to the discretion of the barons if any of you are allowed to serve them as knights, but I see no need for a mass slaughter. Not after we've already lost so much."

"And if we do not yield?"

"Then I'll order Sir Lambert to keep bombarding you for the next two weeks. By then, Girjar Bear-Bleeder and his mercenaries will have arrived. I'll send them forth so you can see for yourself if rumors of their cannibalism are well-founded."

The knights vanished from the parapets, no doubt discussing the offer amongst themselves.

"A wise plan, my lord," said Pelagia. "It is something your mother would have offered. Clever."

On account of his battlefield victories, several had compared Caderyn to his father, though he still found himself far short of his father's legacy. Until that moment, none had made any comparison to his mother. To his surprise, that brought a soft, warm little smile to his face.

After a few minutes, Mordren poked his head up again.

"We have your word, my lord?"

"I swear it on the blood of Duke Lucan... and on the boy who was named after him."

Once more the knight vanished from sight. There came a sudden shout from beyond the walls, then a scream. More cries soon rose, followed by the clashing of steel. Wagering that the garrison had turned upon itself during the debate over the offer, Caderyn hissed and ordered his escort to turn back.

Their horses trotted over rubble and debris, withdrawing to a few hundred paces away. Once in relative safety, they watched and waited. Minutes dragged on. A body toppled over the parapet and landed with a wet thud upon the dusty ground. A horn sounded, followed by a bell. Someone scurried along the battlements and vanished into the gatehouse.

Caderyn's hand coiled around his sword. The gate slowly creaked open.

Two dozen men in blue-and-gold cloaks stood beyond, their armor and weapons spattered with crimson. Foremost among them was Sir Mordren, blood leaking from a deep gash upon his chin. Crimson gore clung to his shattered sword. Beyond, Caderyn saw at least a dozen bodies scattered about within the courtyard.

Mordren staggered forward, leading the other survivors from the great keep.

Some lords might have been tempted to run the survivors down, then surge forth to seize the undefended fortress. Caderyn, however, kept to his word and allowed the traitors to approach.

"What happened?" Caderyn demanded.

"Two versions of honor, my lord. Two paths that can never meet." Mordren shrugged and sighed. "But it is done and we do not have the strength to hold now. But... I would still like to see the graves and confirm what happened."

Given that the knight had just overseen the butchery of men who had fought at his side for months, Caderyn held back his grin of triumph and instead gave a quick nod.

"So be it. Lay down your arms, my men will secure the keep, and then you will be given an escort to go confirm the truth."

Dozens of bloody weapons clattered to the ground. After a wave from Caderyn, Sir Lambert sent in a tide of soldiers. They swept through the gate and into the death-strewn courtyard, and Caderyn summoned healers to tend to Mordren and his men.

Caderyn regarded the survivors with cold and distant eyes. Months ago, he'd have relished the thought of flaying such traitorous knights alive. While the bloodshed in Jadewall had not softened his heart, it had made him want to avoid reckless and needless cruelty.

"I do have one question, though," said Caderyn. "Were any of you there the night that Aelred attacked my father's camp?"

None moved or spoke.

"This does not alter the agreement; my word still stands."

Every single man raised a hand. Some trembled or glanced away, while Mordren met Caderyn's gaze with a grim sort of pride.

"Did any of you see him fall?"

"Duke Caderyn," Pelagia said with a low growl. "You need not hear this. It is finished."

Caderyn ignored her and nodded at the prisoners.

"Well?"

"If you're after the man who put the arrow through your father's neck, he marched off with Aelred towards the river," said Mordren. "You likely got your vengeance already and just didn't know it."

Perhaps that man had been trampled to death during the chaotic retreat from Stonecurrent. Perhaps he'd been cut down by a howling northerner after stumbling about under the influence of that foul curse. Or he could have met his end at Aelred's side during the battle in the swamp.

Or he could still draw breath, running free across Jadewall or languishing in a dungeon.

Did it matter?

"So you saw it," Caderyn said to Mordren.

"Aye, my lord. I was with the scouts who guided in Jehan's knights... who came thundering into the camp like demons from hell."

He cracked a grin.

"Some men see demons and run. Other men see demons and decide tohunt. That's what your father tried to do. Rallied his men, steadied them, and cut through Jehan's knights. Blood adorned him like a burial shroud. But then..." He glanced at the cloudy sky for a moment. "One arrow."

Mordren tapped the side of his neck.

"In deep. Then he was down. Then it was over."

Caderyn did not so much as flinch or shudder at those answers. Nothing Mordren had told him was a surprise, and perhaps Mordren had in fact massaged the truth to make Lucan's death a bit more palatable. What better way for a warrior-duke to die than cutting his way through a horde of foes, only to fall to a quick and skillfully-delivered arrow?

"Thank you, Sir Mordren."

He then turned to Lambert.

"See to it that the castle is secured, that these men are treated well, and that they are given an escort to Jadewall to visit the graves of their liege and his heir."

"My lord," Lambert said darkly. "These men are traitors."

"Traitors to me, Sir Lambert. Had they betrayed Aelred, then they'd be traitors to their baron instead. I shall claim the heads of every baron and noble who betrayed me, but if I slaughter every soldier of Aelred's, the glimmering green plains will turn crimson. My father forgave those who fought against him in the name of the usurper Garnoc, after all. So I need to follow his example."

"Of course, my lord. I shall see it done."

**

Icy claws of dread slashed at his heart as he rode through the gates of Fellhaven. Cheers boomed across the canals and cobblestones. Peasants and townsfolk crowded the streets, adorning themselves with the ducal colors and throwing blue-and-gold flowers into his path. Pregnant women shrieked, begging for permission to name their children after Caderyn or his father. Robed monks and nuns wailed or chanted, offering up prayers for the dead and gratitude for Caderyn's protection of the holy orders.

The celebration was more chaotic than a damned battlefield.

And he could not enjoy it in the slightest. As they rode through the tumultuous streets, his eyes settled on the great white towers of the ducal palace and the verdant gardens around it. Within those vaunted halls awaited Melisent and Berent. One or both of them had lied to him, and could have had a part in the plot against Duchess Sarya.

And what was he to do if he confirmed those lies?

The grip of dread tightened around his heart as they closed in on the palace gates. Another great crowd greeted him, consisting of the city's nobles, guildmasters, and their families. Every single one wore a fine outfit in the ducal colors, no doubt commissioned at great expense for this very occasion. Their applause was quieter and more cordial than the riotous cheers of the commoners, for which Caderyn was quite grateful.

He let out a long and weary sigh as a knight helped him down from the saddle. Before him loomed the marble gates leading to the great doors of the palace. Elite knights stood guard, hands upon spears, their eyes smiling at him through the slits of their helmets.

For several tense moments he stared at those great doors, trying and failing to rehearse what he would say to his family.

The doors groaned open.

His breath caught in his throat and he nearly took a step backwards as Melisent emerged. Though he'd seen her in wondrous finery before, such outfits paled in comparison to the grandeur she'd donned that day.

A black dress clung to her curves. Swirls of intricate lacework on the dress resembled the feathers of ravens in a clear homage to the duchy of Ravenmark. The neckline was quite low in the Asparran fashion, perhaps as a tribute to that aspect of her heritage. Whatever her reasons for choosing that particular style, Caderyn could certainly appreciate the deep, plunging neckline that exposed much of the dark skin between her breasts. Around her neck was a black sash studded with blood-red rubies. Crimson ribbons adorned her flowing black curls. Stunning pale gray eyes gazed down towards him, her smile shining brighter than he'd ever seen before.

It was as if she had been plucked from a fine portrait, one of the Empresses of old made flesh before him.

At yet while he should have stared awestruck at her beauty, lingering doubts prevented him from fawning too much over her. Lies still churned around the truth.

Even as he ascended the marble steps towards her, Melisent seemed to sense his wariness. Her smile faded just a little, though likely not quite enough for anyone else to notice. Nonetheless she offered him a low curtsy and reached for his hand.

"Welcome back, my duke," she said in a low, velvety voice.

By the gods, his hesitation nearly melted away at the sound of her voice and the warmth of her touch. She slipped her arm through his and gave a little wave to the cheering crowd. Arm in arm they strode through the great doors into the palace.

The very moment the door closed shut behind him, she turned and gently gripped his cheeks.

"What is wrong, my love? The war is won. Aelred is dead, my father is in chains... it is over. Why does sorrow cling to your gaze?"

Caderyn stared down at her for what felt like an eternity. Within those gray eyes he saw all the chaos he'd endured over the past few months. The bloodshed in Tsannor, the fighting in his father's camp, the counterattack against Thandor's forces, the gore soaking the streets of Jadewall...

Her gentle touch slowly chipped away at those bitter memories.

"I think your father was telling the truth," Caderyn muttered, barely summoning the strength to speak those words. "I do not think he was responsible for the attack. Was he responsible for a great many other crimes? Absolutely. But not the attempt on my mother's life or mine."

Her hands fell away and she took a single step back. Pain flared across her face, as if he'd slipped a knife between her ribs.

"You must think me a liar, then."

"No," Caderyn said quickly. "But maybe..."

His mind raced and danced across a hundred different possibilities.

"Maybewhat?" she hissed. "Explain to me precisely what you think happened. Do you think I concocted the story of my mother's murder? Do you think I lied when I told you of how his men found me again?"

She took another step away. That little movement struck him as fiercely as any blow suffered in battle. The pain only deepened when he took a step after her and she flinched back, as if afraid of his touch.

"No. But... something isn't right. Because Thandor already had a plan in place to kill my family. He was waiting for the right moment to support Aelred's coup. He did not need to go such lengths to involve you. There were a hundred different ways he could have struck."

"I swear to you, Caderyn," she said, her voice quaking. "I swear it upon the blood of my mother. I swear it upon the love we have shared. I swear it upon every kiss, every touch. I am not lying to you."

By the blood of the saints, he ached to believe her, though painful questions still burned within his heart. Why would Thandor enact such an elaborate scheme when he could have utilized Aelred?

And yet she was not the only person he doubted. His brother Berent still drifted amidst the questions, for he had received the emerald-adorned dagger from Thandor as a gift and had guided the investigation. Berent's advice had inspired the pilgrimage and sent Caderyn to the convent of Saint Sulwia.

"Where are my mother and brother?"

"Why?" she snapped. "So you can scurry off to them and tell them of how you doubt my story?"

"No," Caderyn said with a slow shake of his head. "Because... I need to speak to Berent."

"Your mother thought it would make for a greater spectacle if I alone was to greet you: two lovers reuniting after months of war," she said, venom brimming within every word. "So they are waiting for you in the gardens."

"Come with me," he said, not daring to reach for her hand. "I want you there when I speak to them."

Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her jaw. Judging by the tension in her shoulders, he half-feared she might strike him. And could he have blamed her if she did?

Instead Melisent nodded, raised her head high, and marched stiffly at his side. They passed by knights and servants who greeted the young duke with bows and warm smiles. Caderyn returned the smiles as best he could, wanting to play the part of a triumphant duke, not a man riddled with doubts.

Together, he and his betrothed strode through the great oak doors at the rear of the palace and into the teeming gardens. Before them stretched rows of colorful flowers and fruit trees, along with statues and fountains displaying various mythical beasts from Fellhaven's legends.

Most prominent of the fountains was one of a dragon clashing with a horned wolf. The life-like rendition perfectly captured the snarling expressions of the dueling beasts. The sculptor had even crafted the display so intricately that the 'wounds' within the stone beasts served as spouts for the water. Seated in front of it were Sarya and Berent, both bent over a long scroll.

Duchess Sarya looked up first, warmth erupting in her green eyes. With a soft sigh, she rose to her feet and dashed towards her son, heedless of the tension simmering in the air. Rather than collide with him for a fierce embrace she stopped short and simply patted his scarred cheek. Tears brimmed in her gaze, then she squeezed hands.

"It is over, Caderyn."

"No," Caderyn said, his heart breaking at the confusion in her eyes. "I am afraid it is not."

He looked over his mother's shoulder at Berent, who rose up from his work and smiled.

"Welcome home, my duke," Berent said. "I was just working on another draft proclamation for your claim to the Imperial throne. There are still some details to be worked out but we can go over it together if you like."

Caderyn placed one hand on his mother's shoulder and gently pushed her out of the way. Ignoring her baffled stare, Caderyn reached for his belt and withdrew the emerald-adorned dagger he'd taken from Thandor. If the defeated duke had told the truth, Berent had once possessed a matching blade.

"Where is it?" Caderyn demanded.

Berent cocked his head.

"I am afraid I do not understand."

Fierce, savage steps closed the distance between them. Berent raised an eyebrow but did not flinch, even as Caderyn's hand tightened around the dagger's hilt.

"The dagger," Caderyn hissed. "Thandor gave you a dagger identical to this one for your birthday, years ago. Where is it?"

"I do so love my fancy blades, Caderyn, but that one was a bit too gaudy for me. I sold it to a jeweler and bought a small library of history books with the proceeds. Why?"

Caderyn took a step back, staring down at the glittering blade. His mother spoke but the words did not penetrate through the enraged haze.

"Thandor had other plans to kill us," Caderyn explained. "Aelred himself confirmed it. Other evidence we found in Jadewall confirms it as well. He didn't need to hire some cutthroat to kill mother with a crossbow or to ambush me on the road. There were far more effective means by which to overthrow us."

"Perhaps," said Berent. "But a man like Thandor would have many plots in place, yes? Many schemes, many plans, many options. Just as a knight does not rely on one weapon alone, a man like Thandor would not rely on just one nefarious plan."

Sarya stepped up to Caderyn and wrapped her fingers around his, trying to pry the dagger from his grasp. He glowered and yanked his hand away.

"On the body of Andros I found an emerald," Caderyn said coldly to his brother. "I gave it to you upon my return as part of the other evidence we collected. What did you do with it?"

"Hardly seemed worthwhile to keep once the war broke out. I donated it to one of the holy orders who were helping with the wounded."

Sarya stiffened at Caderyn's side, her eyes darting between her two sons.

"Berent?" Sarya asked. "What is he talking about?"

"Send word to Ketrik," Melisent said coldly. "Fetch him back from Jadewall. Surely there is some ritual that can get to the bottom of this. Perhaps a potion that can force us to reveal the truth. I'll gladly endure it to end this foolishness."

Sarya cast a baffled glance at her would-be daughter-in-law, then back to Berent. The younger man sighed and ran his fingers through the water spraying from the fountain.

"One can only dance for so long," he muttered.

His eyes settled on the duchess.

"This really is all your fault, mother."

"Explain," Caderyn growled, his hand tightening even more fiercely around the dagger.

While he'd never dream of spilling Berent's blood with the blade, he was quite tempted to smash the hilt against his face.

"After the second broken betrothal agreement as a result of your antics, mother and father told me they were pondering the prospect of disinheriting you and naming me as the new heir," Berent said.

Caderyn almost burst into laughter. A year ago, he might have rejoiced at that news. Unburdened by the duties of rule, he'd have delved even deeper into depravity and debauchery, or struck out across the Empire as a vagabond or mercenary. Gods, what a life that would have been.

"Caderyn," Sarya said softly. "It was a fleeting thought, nothing more. We were going to give you another chance, we-"

"I do not care," Caderyn said with a huff. "Berent: explain what this has to do with the attacks."

"At first I was delighted at the prospect of your disinheritance," he continued. "I'd spent so much time cleaning up your messes and working to salvage your reputation, after all. Without you and your scandals, I could focus on actual duties of state. But then I realized that such a change would create irreconcilable fractures."

Berent gave Caderyn a slow, sad smile.

"You would have turned against me," he continued.

Caderyn's bitter laugh roared through the gardens.

"I'd have wept with joy, Berent."

"At first, perhaps. But love and envy grow ever stronger when something is denied to them. Resentment would build and build, turning to hatred. And even if you did not one day try to stake your claim, others might have done so on your behalf. For all of your faults, you are still a warrior, one whom the barons of Ravenmark in particular would have loved to follow. But a man of learning like me? A diplomat? A scholar? The warriors who once followed our father would crave a warrior-duke, not someone like me. Dissent, civil war, unrest... there were many risks of such a disinheritance."

Berent paced back and forth in front of the fountain, as his brother's shocked eyes followed his every move. Caderyn spared a quick glance back over at Melisent, whose gray eyes were wide with shock and rage. Her hands balled into tight fists, as if she were tempted to rush forth and bash Berent's face in herself.

"And so I had to act. I could have refused our parents' offer, yes, but truth be told I liked the idea of being duke, and I knew I could have done a better job of it than you. I just needed to ensure I could ascend to power safely. And Ialso needed Thandor out of the way, as he would always be an obstacle to our family's ambitions."

Caderyn panted, his hand growing numb from the sensation of clutching that accursed dagger so tightly. For a dark moment he imagined plunging it into his brother's back, just as Aelred had done to Caderyn all those months ago.

"So why try to kill our mother?" Caderyn growled.

"Oh," Berent said, blinking. "You misunderstand. Mother was not the target on that night. You were. Only you. Her presence there was a coincidence and a tragic mishap."

The fires of rage still roared, of course, but somehow that particular truth eased his immediate desire to beat Berent to a bloody pulp. He spared a glance over at his mother and Melisent, both of whom stared at Berent with wide, horrified eyes. Tears ran down his mother's cheeks, but Berent didn't seem to notice.

"And I am sorry for that, mother, I truly am."

"'Sorry,'" Sarya repeated, the word emerging as a choked whisper. "You're 'sorry...'"

"The plan was to remove Caderyn as an obstacle to my ambitions, and engineering events so that blame was placed upon Thandor. Then our duchies would howl for vengeance, the lecherous young knight would become a martyr, and we would crush Jadewall once and for all. Then I, as the more capable son, would be the most powerful man in the Empire. Would I have dared to grasp for the Imperial crown? Doubtful. But I perhaps would have paved the way for a future child of mine to do so."

"And how did I figure into this twisted plan?" Melisent snarled.

"I discovered the rumors of you during my visit to Asparra a few years ago," replied Berent. "I spared no expense in tracking down the truth. A small fortune went into finding the men responsible for your mother's death, who by then had used their payments from your father to purchase a brothel in Tsannor. Then it was a simple matter of tantalizing them with an even greater fortune. Through a proxy, I convinced Andros and his partner Uberto that your father needed them for another mission. Thus they still thought they were working for Thandor when they tracked you down. The use of that poison and the payment with emeralds thus laid a trail that would help lead to Thandor."

Sorrow and relief clashed within Caderyn's heart. Melisent had not been lying after all, she just hadn't known who had sent Andros and Uberto to coerce her. And yet it had been Berent pulling the strings the entire time, sending Caderyn gallivanting off across the Empire on a quest to ignite a war with Jadewall.

"I had a life there," Melisent hissed. "Friends. A purpose. You stole that from me."

"And I had a husband," Sarya said, her voice weak and broken. "And you stole him from me, too, Berent."

"Now, now, mother," Berent said, raising a hand. "I lost a father as well. And I certainly had no notion that Aelred was a traitor. Yes, I manipulated events to ignite a war where we would hold the upper hand. But I had no idea that Thandor had other plans in motion involving Aelred."

"As much as it pains me to say it," Caderyn said weakly. "He is correct, at least on that matter. Thandor would have used Aelred to kill father and the rest of us regardless of the circumstances. The war just allowed Thandor to accelerate his plans."

"You stole months and years from me, then. Perhapsdecades," Sarya continued, her voice approaching a low, wolfish growl. "Yes, Aelred may have betrayed us eventually, but you stole that time from me, Berent. You stole a thousand nights with Lucan. You stole a thousand mornings. You stole..."

Her voice cracked and wavered. Melisent stepped forward, taking the duchess' hand in hers.

"But here we are," said Berent, flashing a damnably smug grin. "Victorious. The traitors are dead. Our rivals are in chains. Jadewall is at our mercy and the Empire is ours for the taking. The events of the past year have proven that Caderyn is the ruler we never thought he could be. And I would be quite content, even delighted, to continue to be the man in the shadows, helping to steer the Empire towards prosperity."

Berent's smug smile turned bright and almost loving.

"To my surprise, you have made a damned fine duke, Caderyn. And you'll make an even better Emperor. With my help, of course."

Caderyn could only stare. The brother he'd loved, the brother he'd quarreled with and defended. The brother who'd helped and guided him...

The brother who'd wanted him dead.

"I cannot forgive this," Caderyn said slowly, staring down at the knife. "Good men died on my pilgrimage because of you. They nearly killed Vienne, too."

"I know, I know. But Andros and Uberto were like hounds off the leash. They were supposed to work together to kill you here in Fellhaven, but they improvised."

He had an excuse and an explanation for everything. So smug. So controlled. So... capable.

As horrifying as Berent's plans were, they hadsucceeded. The realms had united around Caderyn and he had crushed Fellhaven's old rivals for good. His armies had scourged the land of traitors and had forged a coalition spanning the breadth of the realm. With a bit more work, they could restore the old Empire and Caderyn would formally rule over the entire continent.

Berent was a repulsive, wretched, deceptive little worm of a man.

But by the blood of the saints, he was auseful one.

"So what now?" Berent asked, spreading his hands. "Will you drag me before a tribunal so the full extent of my crimes can be revealed? Will you undermine your new imperial authority by admitting the war was fought for a lie? Will you plunge that dagger into my heart?"

"I already lost a husband," Sarya said softly, tightening her grasp around Melisent's hand. "I cannot lose a son. I cannot... I cannot forgive this. But..."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her mouth to continue, only a sob emerged.

"Get out of my sight," Caderyn growled at Berent.

The young man bowed, collected his scroll, and marched off as if the entire exchange had been completely routine. Sarya let out a harsher sob and fell to her knees; Melisent followed her down, holding her up and keeping her from completely collapsing onto the grass. As she wept, Melisent held her, murmuring soft and futile reassurances.

And Caderyn could only stare, his world and heart shattering from what he'd learned.

After an eternity, Sarya finally summoned the strength to rise. She wiped away her tears, then moved to stand in front of the fountain. With her hands braced against the stone, she stared for several minutes.

"The truth does not leave this garden. We tell no one," she said finally.

When she met Caderyn's gaze again, steel filled her green eyes.

"As horrible as his actions were, we cannot risk undermining all we've fought for."

"He's dangerous," Melisent said. "How can you trust him? How will you know that he is not enacting another plot?"

"When you can see the viper, you can more easily avoid its fangs," Caderyn murmured. "Now that we know who he really is and what he is capable of, we can be ready. And he..."

He shuddered.

"And he will be useful. With that mind of his arrayed against our enemies..."

"How can you so easily forget?" Melisent demanded.

"I have not. And I will not. And yet... his actions led me to you. And to victory over your father. Does that erase his sins? No. Of course not. But..."

"One path of many..."

What might have occurred had Berent not enacted that scheme? His family would have forged on ahead, blissfully unaware of Aelred's treason. Thandor would have sprung his trap and Aelred would have launched his coup, wiping out Caderyn's family with one fell stroke. Melisent still would have been in that convent while her father tightened his clutches around the Empire.

"For the rest of my life I shall hate him and look over my shoulder," Caderyn continued. "And yet he gave you your vengeance, Melisent."

Silence settled over the garden. All the joy of their triumph faded, replaced by newfound uncertainty and fear. They had defeated one enemy but had perhaps found another.

**

Caderyn barely saw his family or Melisent the next day. Feigning an illness, Sarya had withdrawn into her quarters. Melisent had flung herself into her work, brewing potions and poultices to help the wounded, while Berent descended into the bureaucratic nightmare of arranging Caderyn's claim of the Imperial title.

Rather than beat Berent to a bloody pulp, Caderyn had rushed to the palace's training yard. Knowing that his fury might cause an injury to a sparring partner, he'd spurned the offers of others to train with him, and instead unleashed his wrath upon wooden training dummies. Splinters and shards rained down beneath the wrath of his sword. Again and again he sundered those wooden figures, imagining them as Thandor, Aelred, Jehan, and Berent.

Blood flowed within his mind's eye. The knights and squires around him noted his rage and kept a wide berth, many excusing themselves after a time. Before long the young duke was alone, slashing and tearing at the imaginary foes.

His body ached with fatigue as his heart reeled from the horror of what his brother had revealed. Panting and snarling, he staggered away from the wooden dummy. An agonized hand released his sword and it clattered to the ground.

All he could do was stare at the ruined and ravaged wood, seeing blood and bones amidst the splinters.

Soft footsteps pierced through the pounding in his ears. Melisent approached, holding a little clay cup.

"I hope that is a potion to make me forget," he said, panting. "A potion to rewrite the past."

"I knew you would react this way," Melisent said softly, pressing the cup into his sweaty hands. "This will help with the soreness and ensure you sleep well tonight."

Her fingers brushed over his sweaty skin, then she clasped her hands before her, standing primly at his side.

"I am sorry," Caderyn said, staring down at the cup. "For doubting you."

After a sigh, he returned the cup to her grasp.

"I do not need this. Better for me to endure the pain. I deserve far worse, of course."

"Do not become a pious self-flagellant, Caderyn. Please. Ease your pain. If not for your sake, then for mine."

"For your sake, then," Caderyn murmured, taking back the cup and raising it to his lips.

The potion went down smoothly, the savory taste dancing across his tongue. Within moments, warmth rippled through his sore muscles and his breathing steadied.

"Anything for your sake, Melisent. If you need a thousand apologies for me doubting you, if you need me to undertake a year of penance or-"

"Gods, you are a wondrous fool," she said with a soft laugh, silencing him by brushing her fingers over his lips. "Yes, your mistrust stung, but it was only natural given what you knew at the time. I shall reserve my ire for others."

Her hand drifted down to wrap around his, which did more to ease the aches than that potion had.

"Now let us speak of happier things, my dear. Our wedding, perhaps."

The mention of their wedding brought to mind the vow they'd made to abstain from making love to one another until they were wed. It had been months since he'd enjoyed the taste of her sex or the full warmth of her body. The denial made the prospect of their eventual lovemaking all the more enticing. Such thoughts also went a great deal towards fending off thoughts of Berent's treachery.

"Soon, Caderyn," Melisent murmured. "Please. And I do not say this simply because of the vow we made. I want to move forward, to build a brighter future for all of us. And I fear that I am drowning in the past..."

He squeezed her wrist.

"I know. I long for it as well. But... a part of me wants to wait but a bit longer, until after I am proclaimed Emperor. I think it would make your claim and your own power even more potent if you married an Emperor rather than a mere duke."

It was all really a formality, of course, but the most important part was that a coronation could be arranged faster than a grand wedding.

Her gray eyes lit up.

"Oh, I can see the appeal of that, darling," Melisent said, leaning over to softly kiss his scarred cheek. "To become your bride and your Empress on the very same day."

Her lips brushed ever so lightly against his ear, sending a thrill down his spine.

"But do not delay too long, my love. I fear I will not survive a few more months of this denial."

With that, she gave him another prim and proper kiss on the cheek, then marched off back towards the palace.

**

Over the following weeks his family settled into a grim façade, with Berent continuing to plan for Caderyn's Imperial proclamation and other grand ambitions. Sarya retreated into her own duties, planning the wedding and helping oversee the political transition for Jadewall. Melisent took on more duties as well, meeting with barons of Jadewall who had backed her claim, and deciding on how to divide up the lands of those who had refused to acknowledge her.

To ease the burdens created by Berent's revelations, Caderyn immersed himself in other tasks, too. He rode out into the countryside to oversee the repairs to keeps damaged during the fighting, helped with the columns escorting wounded men back home, and assisted with the judgment of prisoners.

Word eventually arrived from Jadewall. To his surprise, the tribunal had decided against executing Jehan and Thandor, instead condemning them to a life in the palace dungeons. Such a fate might have been worse than death, in the eyes of a proud man like Thandor. Yvonne had accepted the offer of taking the holy vows after acknowledging Melisent's claim. Her mother Isabella, still sickly thanks to ailments suffered during the siege, would join Yvonne in the same convent. Thandor's heir Sir Amaury had chosen exile across the Sea of Talons. One day, he might rise up as a potential threat, but Berent's machinations would likely put a stop to such a scheme.

All that mattered for the moment, however, was finding a way forward, moving past Berent's betrayal and working towards a better future.

And of course, he sought out more delightful distractions along the way. Though he and Melisent maintained their vow to abstain from one another's bed until marriage, Tessandra and Pelagia were still close at hand. Like him, they also sought a reprieve from their own duties.

**

Water splashed up from the bath as Caderyn and Pelagia wrangled for control. War-honed limbs clashed and writhed, pushing and jostling in a playful struggle. Eventually Caderyn's greater size won out, and he managed to shove Pelagia face-down onto the edge of the great bath. She nonetheless let out a laugh which echoed off the walls of the fine bathhouse.

The warmth of that sound provided a brief balm to his aggrieved heart. The sensation of her sex around his cock provided an even better one. Both of his firm hands grasped her powerful shoulders as she braced herself against the moistened stone. Growling with effort, Pelagia rocked her hips back against him, her movements aligning with his.

The two fought fiercely as a coordinated pair in battle, and such skill translated to lovemaking quite well. Neither one had to give voice to their needs, and they spoke a language of their own making, a sacred and wicked code of growls, moans, sighs, and urgent glances.

His hand shifted from her shoulder to grip her red curls, which she'd allowed to grow a bit longer since the end of the fighting. Quite glad for the extra length to grab hold of, Caderyn grinned and tugged Pelagia's head back, treating her with a bit more roughness than he'd have displayed with his other lovers. Though he adored the wonders of Tessandra and Melisent, Pelagia's greater fortitude allowed her to endure his strength better than the others.

Her strength, of course, matched his. The well-honed muscles of her pale body worked along with him, their bodies falling into sync just as they did in battle.

Eager to send her soaring higher, and desperate for her cries to help fend off his own doubts and regrets, Caderyn decided to try something new. After brushing his fingers and thumb along her dripping sex, he brought his moistened thumb to rest between her buttocks. There he paused, his thumb resting there and promising a bit more.

Through clenched teeth, Pelagia let out a little grunt.

"Always up for a challenge," she mumbled.

She let out a low, irritated growl as he slowed the pace of his hips, allowing him to focus on teasing and probing at her rear. This thumb just barely slipped inside; he grinned as he felt her ass and sex clench in perfect unity.

"Gods," Pelagia mumbled. "Tessandra teased me like that a few times, but..."

The words shattered into a low cry as he pushed his thumb a bit deeper, while also giving her a long, deep thrust of his cock. He kept his strokes slow but firm, while his thumb teased and wriggled. Her back rippled and writhed. Gods, how he loved to see the fierce knight rendered speechless and weak. Making that submission even more powerful was the knowledge that she could have broken him quite easily in turn.

Seeking to overwhelm her even further, Caderyn slipped his other hand down towards her sex. As he sought the delicate pearl nestled amidst her folds, the thumb inside her ass pressed just a bit deeper. Pelagia let out a low, strangled gasp. Her arms shivered and she nearly slipped on the moistened stone.

"Oh," she muttered, as if surprised by the sensations he'd unleashed.

A proud and smug grin spread across his face. Though his shaft ached with need and tension rippled through his body, for now his sole focus was utterly conquering the fierce knight beneath him.

"Be a good, dutiful knight and come for me," he said in a low, imperious tone.

The sound that emerged from her panting lips was halfway between a sob and a laugh. Perhaps out of defiance, she rocked her hips back, urging him deeper. His eyes fluttered but he maintained his focus, his fingers quickening against her sex, even as his cock twitched within her. Gods, the embers were flaring so brightly that just one more deep stroke within her would have finished him off...

"Be a good, dutiful duke and come forme," she growled back, though the defiance was undercut slightly by the occasional whimper.

With that final word, she rocked her powerful hips back against him, causing him to cry out in shock. His fingers nearly faltered from her sex. Caderyn's cock throbbed and pulsed. He felt the tide rise, could feel the dam about to burst...

To tear himself back from the edge, his mind grasped for a painfully boring memory: the discussion of financial contributions from the holy orders. The matter had occupied much of his time in council meetings lately and had nearly put him to sleep on several occasions. In that moment, however, he was quite grateful for that dull topic, for it brought him back from the brink. A bit of his seed leaked forth but he did not succumb entirely.

Pelagia let out a low, defeated growl before sagging downwards but kept her rear raised up for him. With her face braced against the floor, she mumbled and mewled, her hands clawing at the stone. Moisture soaked his cock and her ass clenched around his thumb. The sound of his name leaving those panting lips was the final signal he needed.

As she sobbed and shuddered beneath him, Caderyn finally yielded. He pulled his hips back then slammed forward, the surge of pleasure rising once again. One more deep, fervent stroke was all it took. The dull and silly thoughts of council meetings died beneath the fires of his lust. His hand rose from her sex so he could grasp her hip, steadying himself against her powerful body.

His seed rushed forth, filling her. Both of them gasped at the intensity of his release, and Caderyn growled, leaning his head back as he drifted further along those waves. He shuddered at the lewd sounds of the mess dripping from her sex and into the bath.

As wondrous aches danced through their muscular bodies, Caderyn slowly removed his finger from Pelagia's ass, then smirked at the little twitch that went through her.

For half a minute they drifted on the aftershocks together, her sex occasionally clenching or rippling around his pulsing cock. Sweat rolled from his brow onto the muscles of her back. Gentle fingers traced over her scars, and rubbed in soothing little circles.

"Are we finally going to talk?" Pelagia asked, still staring at the stone floor.

"About what?" he said breathlessly, giving her taut backside a light, playful little slap.

"About the grim mood you've been in for weeks. Wewon, Caderyn. You will be Emperor soon, and Melisent will be your Empress. Does that mean nothing?"

It wasn't the first time she'd pressed him about his mood. On every occasion, he'd found a way to dodge the question or change the subject. His mother had demanded they keep the secret to themselves lest the truth unravel their newfound power.

With a sigh, Caderyn slipped out of Pelagia and drifted backwards, resting against the far end of the great bath. Pelagia remained where she was, his seed dripping from her sex and into the water.

"I just keep thinking about the costs," Caderyn said softly. "The blood we spilled to get this far."

"That's not the first time you've said that," Pelagia said, finally turning around. Water and sweat dripped down her athletic physique. "I might have believed it at first. But I can see that's not the only thing gnawing at your soul."

Tessandra had also tried to delve deeper. The trouble with forging such intense bonds with those women was that they had an easier time of seeing through the veil. Loathing bubbled up within him as he thought of what Berent might do. No doubt his wily brother would mask the deception with a half-truth.

Or another sort of truth altogether.

"This is not a conversation I would like to have more than once," Caderyn said softly. "But... you and Tessandra deserve to know the truth."

His skin crawled at having to craft such a defense against her questions. Rising from the bath, he toweled himself off, donned a robe, and then opened the bathhouse door to ask one of the guards to fetch Tessandra. The knight smirked a little, perhaps expecting the bard was being summoned for a wild bout of lovemaking, then marched off.

Caderyn sat down at the edge of the bath while they waited. Meanwhile Pelagia drifted within the water, frowning up at the ceiling. When Tessandra finally arrived in response to his summons, another fire of guilt ignited within him, but he knew it would be better this way. The bard's smile gleamed as she crossed the room, then she gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

"Daring of you, to send one of your knights to summon me like this," she said with a soft laugh.

"I am afraid I didn't ask you to come here for something so delightful," Caderyn said, sighing. "And I fear that after I tell you the full truth, both of you may reconsider your affections for me."

Pelagia rose from the bath, brow furrowed. Water danced over her muscles, then she wrapped herself in a towel. With a deep frown upon her pale, slender face, Tessandra sat at his side, a hand carefully resting on his shoulder.

"Tessandra, I already told you about the witch Solveig," Caderyn said softly. "Pelagia, I do not think I ever even mentioned her to you. The truth was too painful. But... I did not tell the whole truth to you either, Tessandra."

The frowns of both women deepened. His heart ached with memories of the witch, knowing that by now her child would be a few months old. The thought caused his fingers to rake against his thighs, as if punishing himself for what he'd done.

"After my mother was poisoned, I rode north in search of a cure. The price for the cure was a ritual."

Pelagia's freckled brow furrowed even more deeply. No doubt her mind had drifted back to the dark rites Ketrik had used to curse the enemy camps before the great battle at Stonecurrent.

"The ritual entailed... fathering a child."

Their eyes widened. Pelagia cursed under her breath while Tessandra let out a shocked gasp.

"But that was... a year ago," Tessandra murmured. "So the child must be..."

"Yes," Caderyn said with a long, trembling sigh. "My firstborn child is a bastard, birthed by a Kovgaardian witch. A sacred and blessed child, in the eyes of the north, who will grow up with no knowledge of me. You two and Melisent are the only others who know."

He stared into the rippling bathwater, hating himself for using that revelation to distract from their questions about what was actually troubling him.

"Now that the war is over, I cannot stop thinking about it. About his or her life, about the prospect of having children with Melisent, and the potential threat posed by that northern child. Just as Melisent was used to help bring down Thandor..."

"That won't happen," Pelagia said firmly. "The northerners don't care about birthrights or titles. To them your ducal heritage means nothing."

Caderyn was not so sure. The coven had mentioned his 'royal' and 'useful' blood, after all, due to the fact that his ancestors from Ravenmark had once been kings. At the time of the child's conception, he'd been the heir to ducal titles... and now he would be Emperor. Northern ambitions could shift once he ascended to the Imperial throne. And even if the northerners did not decide to use the child, ambitious southern nobles might try to do so.

"The northern tribes may not see such a birthright as a weapon, but Imperial nobles might. Which is why you cannot tell a soul. Please."

"I won't," Tessandra said, resting a hand upon his cheek. "I swear it."

"Aye," Pelagia said with a slow nod. "Your secret is mine to keep. And I can certainly understand why that had you in such a foul mood. Gods... how did Melisent take the news?"

"Surprisingly well, in fact. Like you she was worried about the toll the secret was taking on me and seemed relieved once I unburdened myself. And she..."

He sighed and closed his eyes, thinking back to that night in Aelred's keep when he'd shared the whole truth. When he'd compared himself to Thandor due to fathering an illegitimate child, Melisent had reassured him that he was nothing like her father.

And yet it seemed she was wrong. Thandor was an ambitious liar who had spilled rivers of blood to fuel his ascent for power. Was Caderyn any different? He'd lied to his lovers for months about Solveig and was still hiding the truth about Berent.

The weight of those secrets came crushing down on him like the crumbling fortifications of Jadewall. He closed his eyes and sighed. How had Berent managed the strength to maintain his own façade for so long? So many lies, so many half-truths...

The burden nearly made him break down then and there.

Tessandra nuzzled the side of his neck, murmuring reassurances, while Pelagia placed a firm, comforting hand upon his knee. Were those gentle, affectionate touches enough? Of course not. But they were all he had for the moment.

**

Ever since learning of Berent's deception, Caderyn had taken great pains to avoid his brother. The scant few times they'd seen each other had been at crowded council meetings or at a few ceremonies to celebrate the ascension of newly-knighted young men. The presence of so many others had made essential the façade of brotherly love. Yet more than a month after the truth had been revealed, he was finally alone with his mother and brother.

The three of them sat within the council chamber in grim, stoic silence. Sarya stared past Berent, unable to meet her younger son's eyes. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder.

"We cannot tell her," Sarya said softly. "It would break her heart."

"She will sense the tension," said Berent in his usual calm, casual tone, as if they were not discussing the ramifications of his betrayal. "We'll need a believable story if she asks about it."

"We can say you suggested that I set aside Melisent in favor of Yvonne," Caderyn said through clenched teeth.

"In fact Ihad thought about suggesting that. So yes. That shall be our lie. Your love for Melisent caused you to resent me for that suggestion, while I refused to back down from my proposal." He gave Caderyn a slow, approving nod. "Wiser by the day."

The doors to the council chamber creaked open. Vienne burst in, her riding dress still spattered with dust from the road. A half-laugh, half-sob filled the room as she dashed over to her mother. Both of them wept as they embraced and it took Caderyn a moment to remember that this was their first reunion since Lucan's death.

Baron Tancred stood stiffly in the doorway, eyes downcast as his wife wept within her mother's arms. After resting a gentle hand on Vienne's shoulder, Caderyn clasped Tancred by the hand to welcome him.

"How are matters in Jadewall?" Caderyn asked softly, while his mother and sister continued their embrace

"Promising, for the most part," said Tancred. "The duchy is secure: not a single baron or guild stands against you now. After all of Thandor's cruelty, the people are ready for another to lead them. But there was... trouble."

Caderyn scowled as Tancred continued.

"When Lady Yvonne and her mother left under guard to take her holy vows and enter a convent, a mob came after them. My knights were able to repel the mob, but not without bloodshed. Tensions are high but Father Medwin seems to have calmed things down."

All things considered, that was not the worst possible news that could have arisen from Jadewall. Since the tribunal had decided to keep Thandor imprisoned for life, there was always the risk that he might escape. Caderyn glanced over at Berent, wondering if his clever, dastardly brother might have a means of discreetly finishing Thandor off within his prison cell.

Vienne finally broke away from Sarya, then gave Berent a fierce embrace, before treating Caderyn to the same.

"Gods," Vienne said, sniffling and brushing a few red curls from her face. "I am glad that we're back together. Or... almost together."

Sorrowful silence gripped the chamber. After another sob, Vienne patted Caderyn's hand then sat down. Caderyn lingered by the door, his skin crawling as Vienne leaned over to whisper something to Berent. Despite the grim mood, her comment made him chuckle. Perhaps Vienne's joy at reuniting with her family had blinded her to the tension.

Gods, he hoped so. Caderyn wasn't sure he could endure having to lie to his sister.

Once he sat down at his mother's side, Sarya managed a warm smile despite the presence of her murderous younger son.

"Now that we're all here," Vienne said with another sniffle. "Tancred and I have some news."

She cast a brilliant smile at her husband. Caderyn's breath caught in his throat as he anticipated the announcement, his heart swelling with the first true burst of joy he'd felt in weeks.

"I am with child."

Sarya burst into a happy, delighted laugh, and flung herself towards her daughter once more, giving her a fierce embrace.

"Wondrous," Caderyn said, clapping Tancred on the shoulder. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, my duke," said Tancred with a crooked grin. "I am quite grateful that the child will be born into a peaceful, united Empire."

"Indeed," Berent said warmly. "Which brings to mind some of the ideas I had for the Imperial coronation. While Tsannor and Asparra have not formally agreed to your proclamation, that is but a formality at this point, as all other duchies in the Empire have acknowledged your claim."

"Gods, Berent," Vienne chided. "Can you not let me bask in the glow of the announcement of our child?"

"As Tancred said, he wants his child to be born in a united Empire," Berent said with a soft laugh. "So let us make that happen. Besides: don't you want to ensure all of the official arrangements have been made so that your little one can be a prince or princess?"

Vienne cocked her head, confused.

"Yes," Caderyn said, not having to force a smile. "According to the customs of the old Empire, all direct siblings of the Emperors were princes or princesses, and thus by extension, so were their children."

"So... what would that make me?" Tancred asked, cocking his head. "I did not exactly have much time for researching the legal ramifications of restoring the old titles."

"Given your marriage to a princess, you would be entitled to the rank of a prince as well," Berent said. "Prince Tancred of Utresk. Has a nice ring to it, yes?"

"And Duchess Sarya would be..."

"Technically an 'Empress Dowager,'" said Sarya. "But I will insist upon using the title of 'Duchess.' That was the title I held when I met and married Lucan, and it is the title I intend to use for the rest of my days."

Vienne sniffled at that, then kissed Sarya upon the cheek.

"Right," Vienne said, wiping away another freshly-spawned tear and looking to Berent. "Get on with it, then."

"The two hundredth anniversary of Emperor Sevastian's ascension is in three weeks. I think it will be an apt time to crown Caderyn."

"Sevastian was an Emperor from Jadewall," Tancred said with a frown. "Surely there is a more auspicious anniversary you could select."

"Considering Caderyn's betrothal to the rightful duchess of Jadewall and his glorious vanquishing of Thandor, I think it is quite fitting."

"I'd rather just be crowned tomorrow and be done with it," Caderyn growled. "I've little care for this pomp and extravagance."

"Three weeks is already moving quite quickly," said Berent. "That will barely be enough time for the loyal duchies to send their representatives. We'd have to delay it by another few months for another fitting date."

Berent slid a map across the table, upon which he'd highlighted several locations.

"There is also the matter of the place of coronation. The obvious place would be here in Fellhaven, but Blackfeather would also be quite suitable, especially because Caderyn has yet to visit Ravenmark since inheriting father's title."

"No," Caderyn said with a shake of his head, before tapping Aelred's keep on the map. "Here."

Vienne and his mother both frowned, with the former letting out a low curse.

"You cannot be serious. You wish to be crowned within the keep of the man who took our father from us?" Vienne asked.

"A coronation on the same date as Sevastian's will send one message. The ceremony being held there sends another. For one, it is an old and venerable Imperial keep, built by the old Emperors. Second, it shows that I am willing to stand over the rubble of my enemies' ambitions. Let the debris of old bloodshed give way to a new and prosperous age."

"I suppose that does simplify some of the logistical matters," Berent mused.

"And the wedding?" Vienne asked.

"Here," said Caderyn, tapping a small keep near the border of Ravenmark and Wolfgate.

Vienne scoffed and raised an eyebrow.

"That rugged, little old border keep? Why?"

"It's where your father and I met," Sarya said, casting a brief, warm glance over at Caderyn. "It is where we first forged the alliance that helped save Fellhaven from the barbarians. A fitting place, I think."

Vienne sniffled once more, then her eyes widened a little.

"Gods," Vienne said. "That reminds me that I still haven't even met Melisent yet! Mother, we must make arrangements for a dinner, or a pleasant ride through the countryside with her."

"Of course, darling," Sarya said, settling her hand on Vienne's.

For the most fleeting of moments, Caderyn allowed the warmth of the scene to wash over him. In a heartbeat, Berent's betrayal flitted away into nothingness at the sight of his mother's affection for Vienne. Through the haze of sunlight washing in through the windows, he almost thought he could see his father's shadow.

Then it was gone, and the burden of deception came crashing back down upon his shoulders. He glanced over at Berent as he began chatting with Tancred about the state of Jadewall. The words faded into a distant murmur as Caderyn imagined reaching across the table and smashing Berent's face to a bloody pulp.

It would be so easy. So satisfying.

And yet it would also be devastating. His mother had already lost her husband and Vienne had lost her father. To lose Berent or reveal the truth would shatter the fragile peace they'd built for themselves. As hungry as he was for vengeance, he knew that the cost of such satisfaction would be too high.

Gods, it was almost enough to make him long for the brutal simplicity of war once again.

**

A light rain spattered over the assembled dukes and nobles. Caderyn raised his chin with pride despite the weather. He supposed the downpour was fitting; historians could write that the rainfall mirrored the tears of his defeated foes. Nonsense, of course, but so was much of what he'd read about past emperors. Behind him loomed the dark black stone of Aelred's vaunted keep that had withstood his forces for so long. Not only was it a symbol of Caderyn's eventual triumph, it was also a harbinger of the old Imperial authority he sought to restore.

In front of him, assembled in tight ranks within the courtyard, were representatives from nearly every corner of the Empire. Baron Tancred stood as the representative for Utresk, clad in a bearskin cloak and a velvet doublet displaying the heraldry of his house. At his side stood Vienne, dressed in a radiant blue-and-gold dress in honor of her mother. Tears streaked down her face, mingling with the rain.

Alongside them stood Duchess Sarya, dressed not in regal finery but instead in the same black gown and veil she'd worn for her husband's funeral. Though the sight of the foreboding outfit had raised a few eyebrows, it also served as a reminder of the price they'd paid to reach those great heights. Around her stood other barons of Fellhaven, including Rathgar who bore a few new scars from the war, and the diminutive Florian. The little baron had first earned Caderyn's ire for suggesting peace terms with Thandor, only to dispel those doubts by proving himself as a capable commander and administrator.

Behind them stood emissaries from other duchies, including the eldest daughter of Duchess Chera of Wolfgate, whose drab, gray dress resembled the garb of a nun. With her stood a dozen monks, nuns, and priests from various holy orders. Half-hidden by a row of knights was the young duke of Redlake, the small duchy that had also been browbeaten into submission by Thandor's schemes. Like Wolfgate they had eventually betrayed Thandor to support Caderyn. While Redlake had little power or territory, it was still technically a duchy of the Empire, so their support did hold official sway.

Other unfamiliar faces dotted the crowd, including three men wearing the heraldry of Etmorra, the distant island duchy off the Utreski coast. The islanders had stayed out of the conflict aside from shipping grain to Utresk, but had voiced their full support for Caderyn's proclamation. A lifetime ago, his mother had tried to arrange for Caderyn to marry an Etmorran noblewoman, only for his lustful antics to destroy the betrothal. And now Etmorran nobles stood before him, prepared to kneel to a man who had nearly disgraced their dynasty.

The largest contingent hailed from Ravenmark: two dozen nobles and knights, all adorned in black-and-red armor, as if prepared for war. No doubt they had come equipped in that manner for fear of another traitor like Aelred. Mitigating that possibility were the knights on guard upon the walls above, and the rows of men-at-arms outside.

Pelagia and Tessandra stood together alongside Gwion and the other survivors from Caderyn's pilgrimage. Unsurprisingly, Pelagia had donned her chainmail hauberk and breastplate, her shield and mace at the ready. Tessandra had dressed in a stunning silver dress that clung to her slender frame, earning her many lustful glances as a result... including from Caderyn himself. Gwion looked downright ridiculous in his long cloak, velvet doublet, fancy trousers, and high boots. Nonetheless he still had a sword at his side, as ready for bloodshed as Pelagia.

To Caderyn's ire and chagrin, Berent was in attendance, though he lurked on the edges of the crowd. Caderyn caught fleeting glimpses of his elaborate outfit: a blue-and-gold cloak, shimmering vest, a lacey white tunic, and trousers adorned with the unicorn heraldry of his mother's house. Jeweled boots and yet another gem-adorned dagger completed the elaborate display.

Beside his brother stood Ketrik. The grizzled shaman seemed to have aged considerably since the war, causing Caderyn to wonder if the dark ritual had taken a toll on him. Despite his barbarian heritage, he was dressed in a fine outfit to suit the occasion, with only a cloak of wolf's fur to mark him as a man of the north. His tattooed face warmed into a faint, weak smile as he met Caderyn's eyes.

Notably absent were representatives of Asparra and Tsannor. Though the two large southern duchies had not disputed his claim and had in fact sent letters of congratulation for his victory, they had not responded to his proclamation. Berent was certain they would fall in line once the title had been formally claimed, though.

If Inacio and Leopold did not submit, however, then a horrific conflict would erupt. While Tsannor had been weakened by Everard's revolt, Asparra had emerged practically unscathed. Neither duchy had suffered the ravages of the conflict in Jadewall and thus would be able to resist if they wished. Caderyn did have a greater number of duchies on his side and could likely enlist another horde of Kovgaardian mercenaries, but Asparra had access to vast wealth and great reserves of troops. Such a war would not be an easy one.

It pained him to admit he was glad that Berent was still at his side. If war did erupt, Berent's schemes might be able to turn his enemies against one another, or arrange for assassinations of key leaders.

His eyes continued to roam over the crowd as those dark thoughts raged. A jolt went through him at the sight of Melisent, who stood alongside Father Medwin and a few representatives from Jadewall. To fully display her claim to her father's legacy, she had donned a simple, conservative gown of dark green. Though the fabric did not exactly cling to her luscious curves or show off much of her creamy olive skin, Caderyn nonetheless knew well the beauty hidden beneath that gown. She met his gaze and flashed him a brilliant, reassuring smile.

The doors to the keep creaked open behind him. Two knights emerged, holding a large wooden chest adorned with the sigils of both Fellhaven and Ravenmark. Within that chest rested the grand Imperial crown he'd commissioned for himself. As they approached, Caderyn ascended to a simple stone dais that had been dragged out for the occasion.

In days of old, Emperors were usually anointed and proclaimed by a council of high priests or their ducal supporters. Caderyn, however, had something else in mind.

Duchess Sarya stepped forward, her black mourning veil fluttering as she moved. Despite her grim attire, she smiled at her son as she ascended the dais with his help.

Taking a deep breath, Caderyn looked out across the crowd.

"I accept this burden not for my own sake or for my own ambitions. But for the greater good, for the betterment of every subject of the Empire. I take this responsibility so that together we may guide the Empire towards a new age of peace and prosperity."

Hollow words, perhaps, due to the possibility of Asparra and Tsannor defying him.

Sarya undid the latch of the chest and Caderyn fell to one knee, kneeling symbolically before the representatives who had come to proclaim him as their Emperor. Gasps and appreciative murmurs rose as Sarya lifted the crown from the chest and raised it high.

To honor his parents' dynasties, the crown combined aspects of both sets of heraldry: black steel to symbolize Ravenmark, flecked with gold to honor part of Fellhaven's colors.

"Dukes and Duchesses of the Empire!" Sarya called out. "Before you kneels Duke Caderyn of Ravenmark! Son of Duke Lucan and Duchess Sarya! Scion to two great dynasties, victor of many battles, avenger of a fallen father, and redeemer of Jadewall. Do you hail him as your Emperor?"

The knights of Ravenmark thudded their mailed fists against their breastplates. The first to cry out, however, was none other than Gwion. A year ago, that bald mercenary had been Caderyn's foe in the fighting pit on the night of the assassination attempt. He'd thus been there from the very beginning of Caderyn's new path, eventually joining him on the pilgrimage and fighting at Caderyn's side for months. And now he was there for Caderyn's ascension, howling out the words that would herald Caderyn's destiny.

"Hail!" he bellowed, raising a fist high. "Hail to Caderyn the First!"

Pelagia was the next to roar, raising her mace high and bellowing out his name. Tessandra's melodious voice soon joined the throng. Hundreds of other voices assailed him, the shockwave of the sound sending a chill through the air. His name rose high into the sky, soaring to join the looming clouds above. The sound grew so intense that the battered walls trembled, as if the mighty sound could soar all the way to Asparra, Tsannor, and Kovgaard.

Over the din he could hear Berent crying out his name as well. The sound made his skin crawl.

Burying deep his wroth, Caderyn swept his gaze over the crowd, searching for the approval of but a single person, though it was a foregone conclusion.

Melisent stood amidst the roaring crowd, her gray eyes bright and wide. Unlike the others, she had not raised her fist or cried out. Instead she simply smiled and gave him a slow, approving nod.

Caderyn made a quick, barely perceptible nod to his mother and she settled the crown upon his head.

It was surprisingly light and rested perfectly atop his lustrous, short blonde curls. After a deep breath, Caderyn rose to his feet and the cheers intensified. Fists and weapons rose, along with even more thunderous cries of his name. Some even began to chant out his father's name, as if beckoning for Duke Lucan's spirit to smile proudly down upon his victorious son.

He turned to see his mother's eyes filling with tears, but she smiled beneath the veil.

"Your majesty," she said, bowing low.

The sound cut deep. Two simple words conveyed the breadth of his struggle, bringing to mind the blood he'd spilled, the wounds he'd suffered, the kin and friends he'd lost. So much blood... for so much power.

**

It had taken hours for the crowd to disperse, as one by one they'd wished to greet him and offer their personal pledges of fealty. The representatives for absent rulers read aloud from great scrolls, listing out the names of the nobles who had acknowledged his proclamation. One by one the supplicants passed him by, his weariness growing with each dull, dreary conversation. All he wanted was to retreat into the warmth of the keep and the solace of his lovers' arms.

Finally the parade of his subjects ended and they returned to their horses, to ride back to their estates or nearby camps. His mother kissed him on the cheek and walked off, her arm settling upon Vienne's. Berent lurked at the edges of the courtyard, giving Caderyn a slow smile and a cordial nod before vanishing through the gate.

Dark thoughts of Berent vanished as Melisent approached, followed by Pelagia and Tessandra. The bard wiped at her eyes while Pelagia beamed, and his betrothed reached out to take his hand.

"Your majesty," she said in a low purr. "Gods, what a delicious phrase to say..."

"And the title will be yours as well before long, my love," Caderyn said, returning her warm smile.

In a month they would travel to Ravenmark for their wedding. She would be his bride, his Empress, his gleaming future...

His heart skipped a beat.

"Now," Melisent said with a conspiratorial smile, glancing over at Pelagia and Tessandra. "I took great pains to arrange for a celebration of the coronation."

Tessandra blinked away the last of her tears, the tearful joy turning to warm curiosity. Snickering, Pelagia grinned and gave Caderyn a wink.

"Now follow me, darlings," said Melisent, her lustrous curls flowing behind her as she marched towards the doors.

The heated promise of her words dispelled Caderyn's lingering discomfort at having to stay within the traitor's castle. Smiling to himself, he followed along, deciding to use the occasion as one last means of vengeance against Aelred. The fool had risen against his father, now his vaunted keep was the site of Caderyn's ascension... and the site of whatever debauchery Melisent had planned.

The tables of the great hall had been cleared away, replaced by cushions and blankets. Servants had already set out bottles of wine, bowls of fruit, and loaves of bread.

"Cozy," Tessandra said with a giggle, dashing across the room and throwing herself onto the pile of blankets.

"I hope you've arranged for something more than just a pleasant place to relax for the night," Caderyn said.

"Sit down and have a drink," Melisent said with a wave of her hand. "I will return with the evening's special delights."

Eyebrow raised, Caderyn joined the other women on the pile of cushions. For the sake of comfort, Caderyn removed his crown and set it aside, while Pelagia cast aside her mace and shield. Caderyn and Tessandra helped the redhead strip out of her hauberk and breastplate despite her protestations.

"An Emperor shouldn't be doing such a thing," she said with a huff, batting his hand away as he reached for her boots.

"I was your lover before I was an Emperor," he pointed out.

Nonetheless she huffed again and removed her boots without his help, then collapsed onto the pile of cushions. While they waited, Tessandra idly played with Pelagia's hair, and Caderyn slipped Pelagia's feet into his lap, his fingers brushing along her shin.

"Do either of you have an inkling as to what she has planned?" Caderyn asked.

"She just told us to be prepared for an 'interesting celebration,'" said Pelagia.

His curiosity rose further, recalling the evening when Melisent had arranged for Avicia to share their bed, where she'd guided the mysterious woman's every move in order to please Caderyn. Even after all these months, he'd never seen that woman again nor learned who exactly she was, nor had Melisent ever spoken of her since. Was she about to deploy that beautiful woman and her skills again? Or did she have something even grander in mind?

More questions arose as the doors opened. In strode two unfamiliar figures, their faces and bodies shrouded by voluminous dark robes and hoods. Melisent walked behind them, her face alight with mischief.

The two figures came to a halt in the middle of the great chamber. Their cowls were so low and the robes so thick that Caderyn could not even hazard a guess as to their identity.

Melisent stood between them, as proudly as Caderyn had stood before his subjects during the coronation. Without a word, she licked her lips and reached up, yanking little white cords that dangled from the collars of the dark robes.

Gasps rose from Caderyn, Tessandra, and Pelagia as the robes fell away. Two nude women now stood at Melisent's side. The one on the left wore her red hair in a long braid adorned with pieces of amber. Her body was slender and lithe, quite a bit like Tessandra's, though her pale form was adorned with runic tattoos. Bright, mischievous blue eyes stared out at the emperor.

The second woman was a bit shorter and nicely plump, with sizable breasts, the nipples of which were pierced with pieces of amber. She had fewer tattoos than the other woman, with only a few depictions of birds fluttering along her thighs and arms. Her black hair fell in wild curls just past her shoulders. Hungry brown eyes regarded Caderyn and his lovers, paying particularly keen attention to Pelagia.

With her brilliant smile affixed upon Caderyn, Melisent ran her fingers over the shoulders of the two mysterious women.

"This is Sillja," she said, tapping the lissome redhead's shoulder, before leaning over to kiss the brunette's cheek. "And this is Katla."

Tessandra murmured something under her breath and began to work on the labyrinthine laces and ties of her fancy dress. Not taking her eyes from the two Kovgaardian women, Pelagia reached over to assist, while Caderyn could only stare, awestruck.

"They came south with Girjar's mercenaries as 'companions' for a few of his captains," Melisent explained. "We met when they helped Ketrik and I gather components for potions and poultices. When I heard about their other talents, I asked them to help celebrate your coronation."

By the gods. If they were concubines or courtesans to wild northerners, they were practically warriors in their own right as well.

"Well met, your majesty," said Katla, her curvaceous form bowing low.

Sillja, however, offered no such deference, and instead met Caderyn's eyes and licked her lips. The sight of her hunger brought to mind a ravenous wolf and sent a delightful chill down Caderyn's spine.

As they all exchanged hungry, lustful glances, Pelagia stripped out of her remaining clothing. The sight of her lean, athletic form ignited even greater hunger in the gazes of the two mysterious northlanders.

"She has the body of a shield-maiden," Katla murmured to Sillja.

"I keep hearing that," Pelagia grumbled. "But I am no maiden."

The Kovgaardian brunette's smile grow even more wolfish.

"Then prove it."

Pelagia raised an eyebrow at Melisent, as if seeking the woman's permission. With a faint smirk, Melisent nodded, and Pelagia darted forth from the cushions. Tessandra giggled and Caderyn guffawed as Pelagia tackled the curvaceous Katla, dragging her down onto another pile of cushions. Laughs and moans rose as the two tangled together, rolling around as their hands caressed and grasped.

Caderyn's hands tugged at the laces and buttons of his clothing, though his movements faltered as Katla let out a sharp cry. Murmuring with delight as she watched, Tessandra reached over to help the emperor disrobe.

"Go," Melisent said, cupping Sillja's pert rear. "Tend to my emperor."

The tattooed redhead did not grin or smirk as she crossed the room, instead regarding the emperor with a cold and icy stare, as if he were prey about to be devoured. Both he and Tessandra shuddered at the intensity of her eyes. Her narrow hips swayed as her long, lithe, and tattooed legs brought her across the room.

She raised a red eyebrow as Tessandra freed Caderyn's cock from his trousers.

"Not bad, for a southerner," Sillja said with a faint smile.

Too struck by her fiery gaze and the heated energy in the room, Caderyn could not offer a witty retort. Instead all he could do was stare as she leaned down, her slender arms wrapping around his shoulders, her narrow hips descending.

A few inches above his cock she paused, her eyes boring into his.

"Tessandra," Sillja said, the words sharp and foreboding thanks to her accent. "Will you do the honors?"

"Gladly," the bard said with a mischievous giggle.

Caderyn grunted as Tessandra's skilled, slender fingers took hold of his throbbing shaft. The grunt surged into a low moan as she guided the tip of his cock along Sillja's folds, teasing her a little. Undaunted, the redhead grinned and rocked her hips slightly, smearing more of her dew upon the emperor's shaft. With a sigh, she raised her hips up and Tessandra obliged, slipping Caderyn's taut cock into Sillja's heat.

A low, hungry growled thrummed around him as Sillja sank down. By the gods, she wastight. His eyes fluttered as she clenched and wriggled, her tattooed fingers caressing his heaving chest.

"Your bride-to-be is a fortunate woman," Sillja purred, her eyes fluttering as she stared down at him, her hips speeding up a little.

Beside them, Tessandra murmured as she slid her fingers between her legs. As she pleasured herself, she leaned over to kiss and nuzzle the side of Caderyn's neck. One of Sillja's hands drifted over, grabbed a fistful of Tessandra's blonde locks, then pulled her up for a kiss.

As they moaned against one another, Caderyn shivered and bucked his hips, trembling with the effort of holding back his release. Usually he'd never be at risk of spilling so quickly, but the energy unleashed by Melisent's scheme was almost too much to bear.

Through the haze of lust, Caderyn finally saw Melisent approach. Still wearing her regal gown, she stood primly behind Sillja as she rocked and writhed. For a few moments she stared down, her lips quirked into a ghost of a smile, her pale eyes cold but hungry. When she stepped forward, Caderyn groaned, wondering if she was at last about to break their vow and finally make love to him after all those months of denial.

Instead she crouched down to collect his imperial crown. Still meeting his gaze, her smile widened and she lowered the crown upon her own head. Caderyn shuddered at the domineering energy of her gaze, at the haughty tilt of her chin, and at how effortlessly she slipped into that new role.

No doubt the power aroused her... and it certainly aroused him as well.

"Come for me, your majesty."

Caderyn almost sobbed at that cold command and at the way Sillja clenched around him. Tessandra's licks to the side of his neck certainly sent him closer and closer to the edge as well.

"Go on," Sillja growled. "Obey your empress."

Trusting that Melisent had ensured that Sillja had taken the appropriate precautions, Caderyn nearly obeyed then and there. Only a faint spark of defiance kept him from surrendering right away.

"Yes," Tessandra cooed against his ear, her voice soft and delicate. "Obey her. Fill up this pretty northlander so I can lick your seed from her...."

Melisent gasped at those wicked words and Caderyn cried out after another wondrous shift of Sillja's hips. The sounds of Katla's cries echoed from across the room, followed by a triumphant growl from Pelagia. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the curvaceous northwoman splayed out as Pelagia's fingers plunged into her sopping sex.

Less than a heartbeat later, Caderyn succumbed to Sillja's skill and Melisent's demands. His head thudded back against the pillows as Tessandra buried her lips against his neck, licking and suckling as he came. He bit down on his lip in a futile attempt to muffle his thrumming cry of anguished release. Sillja let out a moaning, triumphant laugh, her red braid flailing as she arched her back. Her slender hips rocked and bucked, her body clenching and twitching around him, milking out every droplet of his offering.

Shuddering, his hips pummeled up against her for a few moments before he collapsed.

"Mmm," Sillja said, eyes fluttering. "I am rather close. Tessandra, would you mind-"

She yelped as Caderyn's hand lashed out, grasping for the northlander's sex before the bard could move. Despite the twitchy aftershocks and his heavy breathing, Caderyn managed to focus enough to roll his thumb over her folds. Though she was a new and unfamiliar lover, it took him but a few moments to expose and assail the best spots to make her squirm.

Before long, the haughty smile vanished as she writhed upon his still-hard cock. Sweat dripped down her lean, tattooed body. Melisent let out a domineering growl and stepped forward, grabbing hold of Sillja's red braid and yanking her head back a little. His future bride glared down at the northern courtesan, eyes narrowed and fiery.

"Now come for my emperor," Melisent hissed.

Sillja obeyed with a low and keening wail. The sound shifted higher as Tessandra lunged for her breasts, suckling upon one nipple while her fingers teased at the other. Through it all, Caderyn's thumb caressed and rolled over her, and somehow he managed the strength to thrust up against her a few times.

When Melisent released her, Sillja flopped forward, nearly collapsing atop Caderyn's heaving chest. Melisent paced around the pile of cushions, a proud smile still upon her soft features. Tessandra guided Sillja's slender hips off of Caderyn and shoved her onto the cushions.

True to her words, Tessandra dove between Sillja's legs, hungrily lapping at her folds and tonguing at the mess Caderyn had left behind. As Tessandra's efforts drove the northlander towards another peak, Pelagia had switched to feasting upon Katla's sex on the other side of the room.

As Caderyn panted and absorbed the debauched sights around him, Melisent handed him a cup of wine, then upended a small vial into it.

"Take a reprieve and enjoy a little drink, darling," she said in a cordial tone, as if they were at a fancy feast instead of an orgy.

"What is it?" he muttered, eyes fluttering.

"An Asparran white wine. With a little... alchemical addition to renew your strength."

With a thrumming laugh, she reached down to rake her fingers through his blonde curls.

Caderyn gulped down the wine, the sweet flavors drowning out the taste of whatever potion she'd added. For a few minutes he simply relaxed, watching as Tessandra guided Sillja to another climax. Once the northlander had been left breathless and limp, the bard rose up and murmured something in Sillja's ear, causing them both to laugh.

The laughter turned to soft little moans as they kissed and caressed one another. Finding their newfound bond quite adorable and wondrous, Caderyn finished off the last of the enhanced wine and looked over to Pelagia and Katla.

The pair had switched things up a little; Pelagia was upon her back and Katla was licking between her thighs, but had placed her sex above the knight's lips. They lapped at one another, their hungry and muffled moans rising.

A little jolt went through his core. After shuddering for a few moments, he glanced down to see that his shaft was fully erect once again. He gave it a few experimental strokes and almost yelped at how sensitive it was, then grinned up at Melisent.

"Who shall I claim next, your majesty?"

Of course she'd not be formally hold that title until their marriage, but she certainly looked like one thanks to that crown and her imperious smile.

"Sillja again," Melisent murmured, licking her lips and looking down at the redheaded northlander as she kissed Tessandra's neck. "She had her chance to break you... now it is your turn."

With a hungry growl, Caderyn grabbed the bard and yanked her away from the lissome, tattooed northlander. Sillja greeted his hunger with an eager moan, gripping her calves and bending herself backwards, rendering herself vulnerable and fully exposed to him. Impressed at her flexibility, Caderyn paused for a moment, admiring the dew leaking from her sex. Not a drop of his seed still remained thanks to Tessandra's earlier efforts.

Desperate to take his vengeance on the sultry northlander and to put on a good show for his future bride, Caderyn wasted little time. With Sillja so bent back and vulnerable, her lithe body was helpless against the ruthless pounding of his hips. Judging by the wild sparks in her eyes and her bestial grin, Sillja reveled in that brutal treatment.

"Go on," she urged, clenching her teeth. "Break me. If you can..."

He rose to the challenge, letting out a low growl and leaning down, bending her back even further and biting at her neck. Sillja submitted gladly, displaying no defiance save for the painful rake of her nails down his back. The hungry suckles to her neck and the ruthless strokes soon combined to wipe the smug grin from her face. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, perhaps surprised that a pampered southern noble was capable of such feats.

Her nails tightened against his tensing back, her helpless legs quivering. When her demanding growls shifted into needy little whines, Caderyn half-withdrew... and then paused. Her enraged, desperate moan filled the great chamber, though Tessandra's laughter nearly drowned it out.

"I won't beg," Sillja grumbled. "Not for a southerner."

"Not with your words, no," Caderyn snapped back, biting down on her pale, tattooed neck again. "But I can feel the need thrumming through you. It burns with every breath you take."

She grumbled, as if frustrated at how obvious her desires were. Still quivering beneath him, Sillja's hands shifted down his back, grabbed his taut backside, and gave it an urgent squeeze, silently pleading for him to continue. Caderyn glanced up to see Melisent leaning against the wall nearby: still fully dressed and wearing his crown, watching with hungry and imperious eyes.

Lightning seemed to ripple in the air as their eyes met. For a fleeting moment he forgot all about the lissome northlander pinned beneath them. Panting and sweating, Caderyn raised an eyebrow.

Melisent's tongue flitted across her lips and she gave him a slow nod, granting him permission to sate Sillja's needs.

Not daring to defy the wishes of his future bride, Caderyn slammed his hips forward in one powerful thrust. Sillja cried out, her nails digging deeper into his skin. The flare of pain kept his own tide of bliss at bay, allowing him to focus fully on conquering the wily northlander.

Her cries fragmented into gasps and whimpers, which were soon silenced by Tessandra's eager kisses. Growling and grunting, Caderyn stared down with wild adoration in his eyes, entranced by the wondrous sights and sounds.

Sillja's climax arrived as a final scream broke down into a needy sob. The tension in her limbs intensified. The lithe muscles of her slender body rippled and pulsed, the tattoos seeming to dance upon her skin. The fierce hands upon his back turned gentle, the nails giving way to soft little caresses. Her growls and sobs turned to soft, urgent coos... urging him to come, to fill her once again.

Cruelty guided his heart. Rather than give her what she craved, Caderyn instead slipped out of Sillja, grabbed Tessandra's slender hips, and shoved himself deep within her. Driven right up to the edge thanks to the wild fuck with Sillja, he lasted for a mere three strokes inside the bard. Tessandra let out a joyful laugh as he filled her, giggling at the intensity of his release. Soft, eager hands clutched his hips, steadying him and guiding him.

Thanks to Melisent's alchemical gift, Caderyn was far from finished with the slender blonde. As Sillja panted and murmured, Caderyn's throbbing cock continued to plunge into Tessandra, while his fingers reached down to caress her folds. Driving the bard to bliss was an easy matter, thanks to the lustful energy rippling through the room and how well acquainted he was with her body. Within minutes she was writhing and moaning for him, green eyes fluttering, blonde hair flailing, slender legs shaking around his demanding hips.

And yet she only came when Melisent knelt down and brushed a gentle hand over her cheek. Caderyn and Melisent stared into one another's eyes as Tessandra succumbed. The joyous cries faded into a distant murmur as Caderyn sank into the beauty of Melisent's gray gaze.

Only the sensation of Tessandra's sex gushing all over his cock snapped him back to the matter at hand. The bard giggled and whimpered at the mess she'd unleashed, which thoroughly soaked his manhood and leaked down onto the fine cushions. Sillja cooed and brushed her fingers over Tessandra's tensing torso.

"Your turn," Caderyn growled at Melisent. "Remove that dress."

"Have you forgotten our vows, darling?" she shot back.

"I have not."

With a soft grunt, he withdrew from the bard and rose, leaving Tessandra whimpering and shuddering on the floor. The nude and sweaty emperor crossed over to his future wife, and delicately plucked the crown from her head. Taking a step back, he placed the crown upon his own head and sat down on another cushion.

Finally he glanced over to Pelagia and Katla, who were still tangled together, the redhead's muscular form a delicious counterpart to Katla's curves. They stopped their lazy kisses and looked over at him, their eyes hazy and hungry.

"All of you," Caderyn said in a soft but domineering tone. "Tend to my bride."

Melisent let out a shocked gasp. The four women pounced upon the future empress and dragged her down onto the cushions. Skilled, fervent hands tugged at laces and ties, undoing the fine gown and stripping Melisent down to a sheer chemise of silk. Pelagia then yanked the garment over Melisent's head, leaving her solely in a pair of green stockings that contrasted wondrously with her creamy, olive skin.

Even amidst the chaotic tangle of lust, Melisent managed to stare out at the emperor, gasping and shivering under the attentions of the other women. Katla and Sillja each claimed one of Melisent's bountiful breasts, licking and suckling at her nipples. Meanwhile Pelagia and Tessandra took turns lapping at her dripping sex, driving Melisent right up towards the edge but never quite pushing her over.

The lustful storm of energy crackled with greater intensity. Though Caderyn was a dozen feet away and had not lain a single finger on Melisent, he swore he could feel the echoes of her bliss rippling around him. His achingly-hard shaft twitched but he did nothing to sate his own needs, quite content to observe Melisent succumb to the attentions of those four beauties.

Again and again her back arched, her luxurious curls splaying onto the cushions. Again and again she mewled out the names of the other women. Over and over she cried out, chest heaving, mouth gaping, drool leaking from her lips.

Each climax tempted Caderyn further. His own needs flared and he thought about breaking their oath. Due to her own swirling storm of bliss, she likely would not have objected had he stormed across the room to claim her for the first time in months.

And yet the agony of denial was a wondrous thing. He knew the longer they kept to their vow, the more potent their wedding night would be. Still, Caderyn could not deny himself completely. As the other women switched places so Katla could feast between Melisent's soft thighs, Caderyn finally reached down to stroke himself.

Despite his prior climaxes, he grunted at the roiling waves of pleasure unleashed by his touch. Though not quite as potent as the sex or mouth of a lover, he nonetheless moaned as he pleasured himself, his fierce gaze never straying from the altar of lust before him. Melisent kept glancing down at his throbbing shaft, licking her lips in time with his own slow, firm strokes.

Growling a little, Caderyn rose to his feet. Despite the shaky tension gripping his legs, he managed to cross the room and kneel down just a short distance from Melisent. She raised a hand, nearly grazing over his thigh, but Pelagia tutted and snatched her wrist away.

While they'd sworn not to make love, Caderyn did suppose there were certain... loopholes. Melisent gasped as he scooted a bit closer, her mouth gaping wide.

"Keep her pinned," Caderyn grunted at Pelagia, who obliged by grabbing Melisent's wrists and yanking them down and away from the emperor.

"Yes," Melisent cried, though he wasn't sure if she was crying out for his seed or because of Katla's firm licks over her folds.

Perhaps both.

Cooing, Tessandra gripped Melisent's neck and tilted her head, guiding her just a little closer to Caderyn's manhood. The bard's grip tightened, keeping Melisent from leaning forward to fully claim a taste. His cock was but inches away from her heaving lips. They were so close that he could feel her warm breath upon him and the occasional burst of her drool as she sputtered and whined.

Surely this violated the spirit of their vow if not the letter, but Caderyn was too ablaze with need to care.

Through sheer force of will, he managed to hold off until Katla's skilled tongue drove Melisent to another climax. When her eyes widened and her hips bucked, Caderyn finally quickened his strokes. He growled with the effort of holding back his other needs, for he was quite desperate to just plunge his cock into her gaping mouth, or to shove Katla out of the way...

Such desires died as his bliss at last soared, sending the emperor reeling towards his peak. His cock, despite the prior climaxes, unleashed a torrent of pearly droplets upon Melisent's soft, olive cheeks. More splashes of white spattered her tongue, lips, and chin. Even more spurted down across her neck and dripped down towards her breasts.

She bit her lip and fluttered her eyes at him. Helpless. Beautiful. Perfect.

As if offered a taste of the finest wine, the other women rose to lick Melisent clean, their devious tongues making quick work of the mess. His cock throbbing and aching, Caderyn collapsed backwards onto another cushion.

For a minute he simply watched, adoring the coos and purrs of the hungry women, his heart skipping a beat every time Melisent managed to meet his gaze.

By the gods, he was a fortunate man. Perhaps his pilgrimage of penance had paid off after all, for the gods had seen fit to bless him with such a wicked and loving wife.

Laughing at the thought, Caderyn finally rose and filled up a cup of wine and placed it into Melisent's shaky hand. She spilled much of it thanks to her shivers and tremors, but the other women gleefully licked it up.

"I think I am spent for the evening," Melisent said with a lazy smile. "The task of organizing this whole celebration was tiring enough."

"Then I will retire as well," Caderyn said, nodding. "The rest of you can have your fun."

"No, Caderyn," Melisent said, still smiling. "Stay."

"Yes," Katla purred, her hand running along his taut, sweaty thigh. "Obey your empress. Stay..."

Caderyn was quite tempted, but even that alchemical concoction had its limits. Furthermore, leaving would serve as an act of self-control and defiance.

Grinning, he tapped his crown.

"I am the emperor, so I shall do as I please. If I wish to escort the future empress back to her quarters and then retire to my own bed for the night, I shall do so."

Katla groaned with disappointment while the others laughed.

"How chivalrous of you," Pelagia said with a smirk.

Together, the other women helped clean Melisent up while Caderyn collected his clothes. The emperor shivered at the red lines and marks left by the wild lovemaking, wondering how long they would last. Melisent, once fully dressed, still looked like quite the mess thanks to her smeared makeup, flushed cheeks, and disheveled hair.

Nonetheless she managed to offer Caderyn her arm, once more slipping into the prim and courtly persona befitting a noblewoman. As if he were escorting her to a fancy gala, Caderyn took her arm and walked her towards the doors. Behind them rose the giggles, moans and sighs of the other women.

Without a word, the pair left the debauchery behind and strolled down the quiet, torchlit halls of the defeated traitor's keep. More than a few times Melisent lost her footing and nearly stumbled, only for Caderyn to steady her.

"Gods, Melisent," Caderyn said as he guided her up the stairs. "I can never thank you enough."

"Nonsense," she said with a bright smile. "There is one way in particular you can thank me."

"Oh?" he asked, pausing at the door which led to her own private quarters. His own room was on the far side of the keep, which he'd chosen to help him maintain their vows to one another.

"You can thank me by claiming me thoroughly on our wedding night, darling," she said, her smile growing warmer as she leaned up to gently tap his chin.

Caderyn shuddered, recalling the wicked words of the letter she'd written him, begging him to breed her so they could start a family of their own.

"Of course, my love," he murmured, his voice a bit weak at the thought. "I shall abstain from all other lovers until then, to ensure that I can give you everything."

"Everything," Melisent said, biting her lower lip.

Her gray eyes looked him up and down, then she turned away, gave him a low and proper curtsy, then vanished into her chambers.

**

As his family and his future wife continued the journey towards the keep in Ravenmark for the wedding, Caderyn diverted from the grand royal caravan. Accompanied only by Gwion and a few dozen trusted knights, he rode into the gates of the fallen city of Jadewall, past the workers who toiled to restore the damage. In his haste, Caderyn barely acknowledged the adulation of the city's residents whom he'd liberated from the reign of their tyrannical duke.

The emperor descended into the foreboding, shadowy depths of the great tower. Most of the cells, emptied of political prisoners who had been arrested by Thandor, were now only home to dust, rats, and the palatial webs of spiders.

At the far end of the dark corridor rested the only two cells that were occupied for the moment. Each one had been finely furnished, filled nearly to bursting by beds, cushions, and piles of books. While Caderyn would have been content to see the men rot within a pit of filth, the tribunal had decided to grant the prisoners a certain degree of comfort.

In the leftmost cell, Jehan rested on his bed, his head still bandaged from the fierce wound Pelagia had delivered months ago, during Caderyn's first victory over the invaders. He mumbled something as Caderyn approached, still in a mindless daze thanks to his injuries. Not even the skill of Ketrik and the palace alchemists had been able to free Jehan from his stupor. Though Caderyn was tempted to grant the mindless man the gift of a merciful death, he had another goal in mind that day.

Thandor sat on the edge of his bed, a massive tome sprawled out upon his knees. Clad in a drab dark robe, the former duke did not even look up from his book. Caderyn raised an eyebrow, realizing the book was a biography of Emperor Sevastian, one of a few Emperors to have hailed from Jadewall itself.

"If only you had read more about Sevastian before, you might have avoided repeating some of his mistakes," Caderyn said dryly, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "He also made an enemy of the holy orders, igniting three revolts across the Empire."

"This is the sixth time I have read this biography," Thandor said in a chiding tone which belied his current predicament. "I am thus well-acquainted with my ancestor's triumphs and failures."

He finally glanced up from his book.

"Perhaps you are the one who should read his biography, to better prepare for the trials to come."

"There was little time for reading when I was smashing your armies and taking your city," Caderyn said. "But perhaps now that things have settled down..."

His eyes twinkled.

"Perhaps I may even read such books to my wife and children one day, so that they too can learn from Sevastian's failings."

"And how is my darling, wayward daughter?" Thandor asked, ignoring the pointed barb as he set aside the book.

"Quite well. Her wicked father rots in a dungeon and within a week she will be my wife and an empress. Such a marvelous ascent for an orphan, don't you think?"

Caderyn could not help but widen his smile at the sharp pang that erupted across Thandor's face.

"And so you neglect her during the journey to your wedding to come here and gloat."

"Only partially."

The emperor reached into his belt and withdrew a small pouch, then slipped it through the iron bars of the cell.

"A gift from your daughter... she brewed it herself."

Frowning, Thandor rose from the bed and opened the pouch, revealing a tiny little vial filled with thick, amber liquid.

"This was the same poison your assassin Uberto smeared on his crossbow bolt the night he attacked my mother," Caderyn said.

Of course, he knew the truth that Berent had been the one to arrange for that. The lie still stung, summoning bile into the back of his throat and causing his skin to crawl. And yet the lie was a necessary stone in the foundation of his rule. Nobody could know the truth of Berent's involvement in the events that had led to war. As far as the Empire was concerned, Thandor's cruel schemes had ignited the crisis and caused his own downfall.

"If you wanted me dead, why not slip it into my food or tea?" Thandor asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She wanted to offer you a choice. That is greater than you deserve, of course, because you never gaveher a choice, did you? You never gave her a choice regarding her mother's fate or her inheritance."

Thandor brushed his fingers over the little vial, then popped the cork. Caderyn's heart skipped a beat, almost elated at the thought that he'd get to witness Thandor's death. Of course, he'd have to concoct some sort of lie to avoid the ire of the local council, but gods... what a delight it would be to watch Thandor descend into a raving, painful death. A deep, inhuman hunger flared within him, bringing to mind the bestial prayers and chants of the Kovgaardians.

For a moment, he was not a triumphant emperor, and was instead a blood-crazed warrior gazing upon a sacrificial victim.

Smiling, Thandor upended the vial and spilled it within the chamber pot in the corner of the room.

"Tell my daughter that I appreciate the gift, but I have no need for it. If you want to be rid of me, Emperor Caderyn, you will need to find another way."

Caderyn could not help but chuckle at Thandor's continued defiance.

"Have you managed to figure out who wasactually responsible for the attacks?" asked the deposed duke.

The question vanquished Caderyn's faint amusement. A dark scowl settled over the young man's scarred features.

Thandor's sharp laugh echoed down the dark, dusty corridor.

"And there it is. Confirmation. Youdo know, don't you?"

"Evidence we collected from your palace confirms it," Caderyn growled.

Of course, they'd only found documents confirming Thandor's ties to Aelred, not to the actual assassination attempts. In the eyes of the realm, however, that had been enough. With so much time to brood and ponder, Caderyn wondered if the clever bastard had somehow stumbled onto the actual truth.

Even if he had realized Berent's guilt and told a servant or a guard, nobody would believe him. Such words would be discounted as the mad ravings of a doomed, desperate man.

"Speculate if you wish," Caderyn said with a snort and a wave of his hand. "It will change nothing. The only truth that matters now isthis."

The emperor rapped his knuckles against the iron bars of the cell.

"As my prosperous reign extends across the continent, you will languish here, with only your sins and your half-dead cousin for company."

Thandor flashed a smile that would have been more fitting upon a serpent.

"In honor of the fact that our families once stood as allies, I should like to offer you some advice," the fallen duke said slowly.

Caderyn's bitter laugh echoed down the dark, musty stone corridor.

"Out with it, then."

"I was a foolish man in my younger years, with little control over my desires. Melisent was the result of such foolishness, as you know. And yet my wayward behavior paled in comparison to yours. How many women have you deflowered or conquered, Emperor Caderyn? How many lovers have you left in your wake?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Many. What precisely is your point?"

"It was foolish of me to let my bastard child survive and thrive, when I should have disposed of her. The smarter, crueler path would have been to poison Melisent or cut her throat when she was still a mere infant. Men with powerful blood like us can ill afford the risks associated with bastard offspring."

A chill like the icy Kovgaardian wind brushed over Caderyn's heart. Did Thandorknow about Solveig? Or was he just speaking more generally about Caderyn's lustful ways?

"I have been driven to foolishness by my lust, yes," Caderyn admitted, his jaw aching with tension. "But I shall not repeat your mistakes."

"Every ruler thinks they can learn from history, your majesty. But few actually do. We are too guided by our own fears and desires. Chained to our emotions. Burdened by sentiment."

With a soft sigh, Thandor collected his book and returned to his reading.

"And so that is your advice, then?" Caderyn asked with a snort. "To cut the throats of any illegitimate children I may theoretically sire?"

He hoped the venom in his voice would obscure his dread that Thandor might have guessed the truth.

"The advice, your majesty, is to not let sentiment be forged into a blade that can be used against you."

He smiled without looking up from his book.

"Or you may find yourself in a cell like me, or embraced by the mud like Baron Aelred."

After a long glare and a derisive snort, Caderyn turned and stormed off, leaving Thandor alone with his maddening thoughts.

**

Compared to the grandeur of Aelred's legendary keep and the great fortresses on the rivers, the tower looming above him was a paltry thing. It was identical to a dozen others that dotted Ravenmark's countryside: a simple, blocky fortress of dark stone jutting from the plain of amber grass. Ringed by a small market town and an expanse of pastures and farms, it was unremarkable in almost every way.

Yet the place had a central role in history, for it was where his parents had met and forged the alliance which had eventually restored the Empire of old. It would also make further history on that day, as Caderyn would finally wed Melisent, at last ending the centuries of enmity between Fellhaven and Jadewall. The old feuds would die, replaced by a love that had burned bright despite the darkness of war and grief.

Caderyn stood within the courtyard of that unassuming keep. Great banners dangled from the towers, proudly displaying the heraldry of Ravenmark and Fellhaven. Alongside them were smaller flags showing the heraldry of the other duchies. At Sarya's insistence, they had included the flags of Asparra and Tsannor to demonstrate his commitment to uniting the full extent of the Empire, even though those two duchies had still yet to fully submit.

In fact, at that very moment Berent was setting off for negotiations to bring those two duchies into the fold. Trusting Berent was nearly an impossible task given his crimes, but Caderyn had little choice. Those negotiations also guaranteed that his loathsome brother would not be present for what Caderyn hoped would be the happiest day of his life.

An honor guard of Imperial knights stood in long rows before him. The men had donned armor and cloaks which combined the colors of Caderyn's noble heritage: black streaked with gold, mixing the ducal colors of both Ravenmark and Fellhaven. The unicorn sigil of Fellhaven adorned their shields, while black raven feathers adorned their helmets. Foremost among those knights were Gwion and Pelagia, standing tall and proud alongside the best of his family's warriors.

A massive crowd stood behind the knights, filling the keep's humble courtyard. The guests included nobles from all the duchies which had acknowledged his claim, representatives of the great guilds and holy orders, along with mercenary captains and notable peasant leaders who had supported him.

On a balcony overlooking the courtyard stood Tessandra and her troupe of bards, weaving a slow and merry tune on their lutes and violins. The song warmed his heart and helped steady him for what was to come. His breath came in short, rapid gasps.

Gods, he'd faced battles with less dread in his heart.

"He never would have admitted it," said his mother from behind him. "But your father was just as nervous and jittery the night of our wedding, too."

Letting out a faint chuckle, he turned to regard his mother. As was traditional for women of Fellhaven, she had donned an imitation of her own wedding dress: a stunning red gown that matched her hair, inlaid with tiny studs of sapphires and little pins resembling unicorns. Around her neck was a golden sash. To prevent the mother of the groom from outshining the bride herself, most of the outfit was obscured by a loose, silken blue shawl. Nonetheless the duchess looked radiant, far surpassing the other women in attendance.

"It's hard to believe father was ever nervous about anything," Caderyn said softly.

"Saints' blood, Caderyn, you should have seen what an anxious mess he was the day I gave birth to you. Pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath, berating the healers and midwives with constant questions..."

For the first time in months, tears did not immediately erupt within her green eyes at the mention of Lucan. Instead, the discussion of her dead husband seemed to fill Sarya with renewed strength, as even more radiance shone within her eyes.

"But dwell not on the past, Caderyn," she said, grasping his wrist.

His sister, standing on the other side of him, reached for his other hand. Vienne had been shedding joyful tears for the entire day, perhaps a result of the raging emotions inflicted by her pregnancy. As per tradition for siblings of the groom, she had dressed in the colors of the bride's dynasty, a fact which had caused considerable grumbling on Vienne's part. Despite her tears and her ire for Thandor's heraldry, she nonetheless looked quite lovely in her dark green gown adorned with lacework of blue fabric that resembled the many rivers of Jadewall.

Caderyn himself wore the new Imperial colors just like his knights: a black velvet tunic, a lacey gold-trimmed vest, a black cloak crafted to resemble raven's feathers, jet-black trousers, and high riding boots. Upon his head rested his crown and upon his waist was his trusty blade. He'd spent hours that morning under the careful hands of servants who had plucked every stray hair and meticulously groomed his beard and curls. All of it was quite ridiculous, of course, but he was happy to submit to the pageantry for the sake of his mother and Melisent.

A bell chimed from one of the towers, announcing the bride's arrival. Caderyn took a deep breath. Remembering the intricate traditions and ancient practices guiding the wedding rites, he closed his eyes before the second bell chimed.

Gasps rippled throughout the courtyard. With his eyes closed, he was denied the sight of Melisent for the time being, but all of the guests and guards bore witness to her beauty. One of the bards faltered with their lute, missing a note, which brought a faint smile to his face. Gods... was her beauty truly that breathtaking?

Of course it was. He didn't need his eyesight to know that.

The music continued to waft down from above, guiding Melisent across the courtyard and closer to him. Even over the sound of the music and his sister's joyful sniffles, he heard the swishing of fabric and soft footsteps that announced Melisent's approach.

Lightning sliced through his fingers as he felt her soft hands grasp his.

And then finally, in accordance with ancient customs and traditions he had never fully understood, he was permitted to open his eyes and at last gaze upon his bride. For a moment, he did not even notice what she was wearing, for the sight of her pale gray eyes was enough to entrance him.

His smile grew so bright it became almost painful as he stared into her warm, teary eyes. After several moments of gazing into those gray depths, he finally allowed himself to absorb the rest of her. Bright blue ribbons adorned her luxurious dark curls that flowed past her shoulders like a river of shadows. Clinging to her body was a dress of bright blue, inlaid with tiny sapphires and strands of silver thread. While the cut of the gown was not exactly revealing or scandalous, it emphasized her curves and the swell of her breasts while still suiting the formality of the occasion. Around her neck was a ribbon of blue silk that contrasted delightfully with her olive skin.

Due to yet another old marriage tradition, the bride did not wear the colors of either her heritage or her husband's. So rather than the red-and-black of Ravenmark, the blue-and-gold of Fellhaven, or the green of Jadewall, she had opted for something of her own choosing. Doing so signified that the marriage was to be a new path and a new life.

"You're perfect," he muttered, so struck by her beauty that it took considerable effort to form that silly, meager little compliment.

"No," Melisent replied, her voice quiet but erupting with warmth. "Not yet."

In the tradition of Ravenmark, there was no priest or noble to oversee the wedding, for a marriage was not something to be officiated by a third party. Only the two souls themselves could bind themselves to one another, with the guests there to bear witness.

During the long journey, they'd rehearsed the ancient vows, identical to the ones used by his parents and by most other married couples of Ravenmark. Such words had been used long before the Empire or even the kingdoms that had preceded it. In the days before the spread of the Imperial sects and the saintly orders, when his ancestors had worshiped strange and forgotten gods, they had used those sacred vows. Though the words were not unique or tailored to them specifically, the sacred words would bind them together and remind them of the shared strength of their people.

"When iron shatters, my love shall not," Caderyn said, Melisent speaking the words right along with him. "When stone crumbles, my love shall not. When the sun flees, my love shall not. When the moon falls, my love shall not."

Caderyn took a deep breath, his eyes brimming with tears. The rustling of the wind, the happy sobs of the guests, the quiet murmurs of a few onlookers... all of it faded into nothingness. The keep, the duchy, and the entire Empire crumbled away, until all that remained was Melisent and her radiant smile.

She was his. After everything. After the attack on his mother, the hunt for the cure, the pilgrimage, the fighting in Ravenmark and Tsannor, the death of his father, the war, the truth of Berent's treachery...

Through all of that chaos and confusion, she was his. Every step on that terrifying, blood-spattered path had led him to that moment. After another deep breath, together they said the final words that would bind them for life.

"When life fades, my love shall not."

As was custom, Caderyn did not claim a wild kiss or tug her towards him for a fierce embrace. Instead he reached down, taking her trembling hand in his, then raised it to his lips for a tender kiss. She returned the gesture, sealing their vows with a gentle brush of her soft lips over his knuckles.

From behind him, Vienne squealed and sobbed with delight. Her husband Tancred bellowed out a cheer. The crowd soon joined in, their thunderous joy restoring Caderyn's awareness of the world around him as he tightened his grasp around Melisent's hand.

"There," Melisent said softly. "Now I'm perfect."

**

Though now formally wed under the customs of Ravenmark, there were still other traditions to uphold. Melisent first had to stand alone at the far side of the courtyard, where every noble and knight in attendance approached to make an offering. Custom dictated that the gifts were to be handmade or foraged from the wild, so most were simple bundles of flowers, pelts of beasts, or bushels of berries. Though Caderyn had attended dozens of weddings in Ravenmark, not once had he ever heard a coherent explanation for that custom's origin.

As Melisent beamed and thanked each guest for their simple gifts, Caderyn underwent his own ritual on the other side of the courtyard. Rather than simple gifts, the women instead offered ridiculous bribes. One woman offered her the lands of her husband's barony, another offered him the deed to her family's gold mines, while another offered a herd of prized warhorses. Vienne and Sarya joined in as well, with the former offering him the rights to name her unborn child, while Sarya offered to abdicate so he could receive his inheritance of Fellhaven. One by one, Caderyn politely rejected the bribes.

It was all meant to be ridiculous, of course, and each 'bribe' was supposed to entice him away from Melisent. The whole point was to politely refuse each absurd gift in order to prove his loyalty to his wife.

The whole process was quite exhausting but it was only the start of the festivities. Once he'd politely rebuffed each bribe and Melisent had received each of her simple gifts, servants brought tables and chairs out into the courtyard. Next came bowls of vegetables and berries from the countryside and bread seasoned with Asparran spices. The wondrous smell of roasted meat filled the air as teams of servants carried in plates of sizzling venison and roasted duck. Through it all, tradition demanded that Caderyn sit on the opposite side of the courtyard from his bride.

Gods, it was painful to be denied her presence and her touch yet again. Even as he ate and drank, Caderyn could only stare across the crowded courtyard at his wife... his empress.

And she stared back, only ever diverting her gaze to greet another guest or well-wisher.

Though his subjects had spared no expense preparing the sumptuous meal, Caderyn barely registered the taste of it, for he was still so focused on his bride. Even as priceless Asparran wine passed his lips, he barely noted the sugary burst of flavor, for he could only think of the wondrous taste of Melisent.

Blessedly, the thumping of drums from Tessandra's troupe announced the next phase of the festivities. He looked upwards to see the beautiful bard, her silken blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight. She gave him a cheeky wink, then guided her companions into a rousing song that drove all the guests to their feet. Like glory-hungry warriors they charged onto the open floor, seeking out lovers and dance partners.

As part of yet another custom, Melisent and Caderyn rose but did not join the dancers. As the joyful music rose higher and higher, the married couple circled around the edges of the dance floor. His legs thrummed with every step, his body roaring with the desire to dispense with the pageantry and drag her into the keep. Judging by the hungry gleam of her gray eyes, her needs echoed his.

Yet they maintained the custom nonetheless, circling the dancers for the entirety of the song. When the last thunderous notes rang out, the crowd scurried back towards the edges of the dance floor, creating a path for the two lovers.

For several moments they stared in silence. When the first notes from Tessandra's violin rippled through the evening air, the newlyweds advanced. Slow, careful steps brought them right next to one another. She smiled up at him, eyes burning with love and need; his own gaze matched hers. As the next notes rang out, they began the dance, keeping to a traditional Ravenmark custom which forbade them from touching one another during the entire song. It was a damnably painful tradition that made his heart and body ache, but he could bear it just a bit longer.

They circled and weaved around one another, their bodies coming to within a few inches but never quite colliding. Occasionally her curls or the frilly lace of her dress would brush up against him, sending a jolt through his body. The wordless song continued, guiding the two lovers through the steps of the ancient dance, one that the dukes and kings of Ravenmark had danced to throughout history.

Caderyn could have wept with relief as the last sonorous note rang out, bringing the dance to an end. The newlyweds stood within a few inches of one another, lips poised for a kiss, but not quite touching. His heart raced and his lungs heaved, while she remained as beautiful as ever, not a curl out of place despite the dance.

"You're perfect," she said, echoing his earlier praise.

Before he could reply, Gwion's harsh voice roared through the silence.

"Kiss her, you damned fool!"

While it was tradition for a guest to bid the newlyweds to share their first kiss, playful insults were usually not customary. Had anyone other than the steadfast warrior made that demand, there might have been a scandal or outrage. Instead a wave of laughter arose, followed by an even louder storm of cheers as Caderyn leaned down, his lips claiming Melisent's for their first kiss as husband and wife.

That kiss was just like many of the others they had shared: soft, with a promise of more, and an underlying hint of hunger. Melisent gave him a little cheeky bite to his lower lip, then withdrew.

The crowd stormed the dance-floor once again as the troupe started up another song. Caderyn took Melisent by the hand and guided her out of the chaos, passing by Gwion and Pelagia in the process. After giving the big bald brute a playful punch to the shoulder, he turned his warm gaze to Pelagia. His lover, his steadfast knight, the woman who had saved his life and the lives of his other lovers. The woman who had helped ensure victory and kept him steady during the darkest days of the war.

Joyful tears gleamed in her dark eyes. Her smile widening, she leaned over to give Melisent a kiss on the cheek, then murmured something that made the empress giggle.

Next she gave Caderyn a firm embrace, taking the occasion to whisper something to him as well.

"Fuck her nice and deep tonight, your majesty."

The heated words sent a shudder through him. Laughing, he clapped Pelagia on the back then moved on, escaping the wild crowd of dancers.

Together, Melisent and Caderyn pressed through the great doors leading to the main keep. Save for the guards protecting the various entrances, the keep was theirs for the evening. No interruptions, no distractions... an entire tower dedicated solely to their love and lust.

"Gods," Melisent said with a long, trembling sigh. "That was wondrous but-"

Caderyn leaned down, grasped her by the chin, and guided her lips towards his for another kiss. A soft bite to his lower lip sent a shudder through him. Grinning, she broke away and caressed his cheek.

"Upstairs," she murmured, her voice low and trembling. "Quickly."

With a laugh, Caderyn scooped her up into his arms, drawing forth a delighted giggle from his wife. He ascended the stairs, only making it up a single flight before she pulled him down for another kiss. The fleeting touch of her lips caused him to falter. Another shiver went through him as she bit down on his lower lip again.

"Here," Caderyn said, his voice approaching a low growl as he set her down.

Melisent yelped as he shoved her back against the wall, then let out a giddy laugh as he assailed her neck. Hungry, wild kisses pressed against her soft skin, followed by gentle little bites. Her laughter shifted to sighs and moans, then to another yelp of delight as he reached down, yanking up her fine dress and bunching it up around her waist.

"Caderyn, I had the servants prepare the room with the finest bedding available. There's also wine, snacks, plenty of-"

Her words tumbled into another sigh as his hand glided along her stocking-clad legs, then up beneath the silk covering her sex. Murmurs and gasps echoed down the staircase as his questing fingers explored between her legs. Both of them groaned as he caressed her.

"There will be plenty of time to make use of that bed, darling," Caderyn murmured. "But first... I think I'd like to take you right here."

Melisent's jaw dropped at his heated promise. His own heart skipped a beat at wild hunger on display in her eyes. Gods, the anticipation had reached such a fever pitch that he doubted he'd last more than a few moments inside her.

After a bit of awkward fumbling he managed to slide her smallclothes down her shapely legs. The silk tumbled to the floor. His firm hands grasped her hips and spun her around so she faced the wall. Panting, Melisent tilted her backside towards him as he yanked the fine fabric further up past her hips, exposing the soft, creamy skin.

His fingers trailed over the back of her thighs, drawing forth a needy shiver from his empress.

"Please tell me you have more of the potion we used after the coronation," Caderyn muttered as he tore off his belt, allowing his fancy trousers to sink to the floor.

"Of course I do," she said, huffing to blow a few curls out of her face so she could stare at him over her shoulder.

A bit relieved that an impulsive tryst in the staircase would not be the end of their bliss that night, Caderyn stepped a bit closer, one hand carefully gripping her neck, while the other took hold of his shaft. Still staring over her shoulder, she bit down on her lip.

"Our first time as husband and wife," she said softly.

"Our first time as emperor and empress," he replied.

Her hips quivered at those words and she tilted her ample backside a bit closer to him. Doing so caused his cock to brush over the soft, olive skin. Pent-up need guided his heart; he sent his shaft drifting lower, along her folds, teasing and caressing her. After so long without her touch, the simple sensation sent a jolt through his bones. His thighs clenched. Together they moaned as he adjusted himself a bit further, sending the throbbing tip of his cock right over the entrance to her sex.

Melisent's eyes fluttered and she gave him a long, loving stare.

"Please," she said in a breathless whisper.

The soft sound roared louder than the blaring of a trumpet. His hand tightened a little against her soft neck, drawing forth a squeak of delight. A slow, careful shift of his hips sent his shaft plunging inside her.

Their groans rose together, rippling up and down the stairwell. Her neck thrummed against his grip as he continued the agonizingly slow thrusts. The shudders intensified, nearly causing Caderyn to lose his footing.

During his life he'd enjoyed many lovers, but there was nothing quite like the intensity of the connection he shared with his empress. Leaning forward, he stifled a louder growl by biting down onto her shoulder. In response, Melisent rolled her hips back, urging him onward.

"You know what I want, your majesty," she mumbled. "You know what I need."

"Oh?" he asked, biting down on her shoulder again. "What's that?"

As if in retaliation for his taunt, she rocked her hips again, causing Caderyn to growl once more.

"For you to fill me. To make a mother of me. So we can make princes and princesses, darling. So our dynasty can reign over the Empire. Our legacy. Our triumph."

Her sighs rose higher and higher with each passing word. His cock throbbed and ached. Releasing his hold on her neck, he braced his hand against the wall and then gave his empress precisely what she'd asked for.

His powerful body slapped against her soft backside, the sounds rippling through the cool night air. Shocked, delighted gasps fled her lips, mingling with his own lower groans and heavy sighs. Already he could feel the storm rising, the clenching of his muscles, the tension roiling within his loins...

Saint's blood... when was the last time he'd approached a climax so quickly?

"It's all right," she sputtered. "Quickly. Come in me. Then take me upstairs, darling. We have a whole night ahead of us... a whole lifetime."

It wasn't the heated words that conquered him, nor the clenching of her sex or the skilled movements of her hips. Rather it was the soft, delicate way she reached up and brushed her fingers over his hand.

Caderyn tried to moan out her name, but all that emerged was a strangled, ruptured sound that barely formed the first two syllables. The remaining sounds burst forth as a needy cry, his heavy breath puffing against her dark curls. His fingers clawed at the wall and tightened against her buttocks, while his core burned with the aching need for release.

Both of them gasped at the first eruption. It spewed deep into her clenching sex, and the surge of that sensation only heightened his madness. Growling and groaning, he rocked and slammed against her: eager to surrender and eager to conquer. More of his seed overflowed from her sex. Pearly droplets leaked down her stockinged thighs and onto the stone floor.

Mewling, she reached down and brushed her fingers through the mess, letting out a pained sob as if lamenting the fact that some of it had leaked forth. His strong hips grew weak and shaky, even as a few more throbs sent another spray of seed into her.

Melisent sighed, braced her hands against the wall, and rocked her hips back against him. Still quite hard on account of his aching need, Caderyn managed to reach down for her sex, eagerly seeking her pearl once more. Soft caresses drew forth needy whines and happy little bursts of laughter.

"That's it, my empress," Caderyn urged. "Come for me... then we'll go upstairs and I'll take you again."

For emphasis, he gently bit down on the back of her neck.

"Andagain."

Melisent's hunger proved too great for just one climax; she demanded a second even after he'd reduced her nearly to tears with the first. Her pleading moans filled his ears as she rocked back against him. Even without the aid of any potion, Caderyn's lust remained fiery and potent, keeping him quite hard within her dripping sex.

Only when she'd half-slumped against the wall did he finally withdraw. Taking a few moments to catch his breath, Caderyn once more scooped her into his arms and ascended the next flight of stairs.

A firm kick at the door brought them into their chambers. At the center of the room sat a large bed adorned with the finest fabrics in the realm. There were other furnishings, of course, but Caderyn cared little for them. Rapid, desperate steps brought them across the room and he tossed her upon the bed.

She bounced with a wild laugh, her legs flailing.

"There," Melisent said, pointing to a basket on the other side of the room.

Caderyn walked over to the basket while Melisent made short work of her fine gown. Within the basket was a little glass vial filled with blue, green-flecked liquid. For the briefest moment he thought back to the concoction Solveig had brewed for him before the breeding ritual. A scowl dispelled that memory. Another grim thought replaced it as he thought back to the vials used by the assassins. A deeper scowl tore through those memories as well.

To keep such dark thoughts at bay, Caderyn turned around to watch his empress undress. Despite the elaborate and complicated outfit, she'd already made great progress in removing it. The half-undone dress had pooled down towards her hips, exposing much of her wondrous bosom.

Caderyn raised the vial to his lips, gulping down the bitter substance. After a fit of coughing, he cast the empty vial aside. He and his bride hungrily stared at one another while they removed their remaining clothing. Growing piles of fancy fabric littered the floor; Caderyn at last removed his crown and set it aside.

Nude save for her light blue stockings, Melisent leaned back upon the bed. Legs splayed wide, she let out a wordless coo to draw him closer. The aftertaste of the potion made him shudder but he soon felt a wellspring of warmth in his loins. An experimental stroke rendered him fully hard. A wolfish grin spread across his face as he trotted across the room, practically leaping onto the bed to join her.

Even had he not taken the potion, Caderyn would not have required much coaxing to reignite his lusts. The sight of her dripping sex, heaving breasts, radiant smile...

All of that was more potent than the power of alchemy. Rendering her even more appealing was the soft, desperate way she murmured his name.

They wasted no time. As Melisent gripped her legs and splayed herself wide for him, Caderyn settled between her thighs. In a sharp contrast to the wild, frenzied fuck down in the stairwell, Caderyn's pace started out slow but nonetheless quite deep. Firm, controlled strokes guided his beloved bride to her first climax, causing her to whimper and sputter out pleas for him to fill her.

Only when she was nearly hoarse did he oblige, seeding her womb for the second time that evening.

Lust, love, and alchemy propelled him to greater heights. Caderyn remained atop her but pushed her hands away from her thighs, allowing him to grasp her legs and bend them backwards, rendering her even more perfectly helpless. Squeaking, whimpering, and sobbing, Melisent yielded gladly to him, coming upon his cock as he mated with her.

He silenced both of their cries with a hungry kiss, their tongues clashing as his cock throbbed, emitting yet another powerful offering into her fertile body.

Madness and need gripped him. Firm hands grasped her wide hips and flipped her over. She relaxed, slumping against the sheets as he claimed her from behind, his powerful chest looming over her soft back as he plowed into her. Feeble, desperate twitches of her hips caused her sex to graze over the fine silk, drenching it with her moisture and intermingling with the seed that had already leaked forth.

"Caderyn," she mewled, her eyes rolling back into her head.

The next climax was a short, shuddering storm that left her panting and heaving underneath him. A shaky, sweaty hand reached up, clumsily brushing over his tensing forearm.

"A reprieve, darling, please," Melisent whimpered. "You're going to break me..."

Despite the storm unleashed by his desires and the alchemy, Caderyn half-withdrew from her. That caused her to buck and writhe a little, her hips tilting upwards again.

"A reprieve," he repeated. "Are you certain that's what you want?"

After a deep breath, she turned her head to the side, just barely able to meet his gaze. Sweaty dark curls clung to her cheeks. Joyful tears sparkled in her gray eyes. The moment stretched on for an eternity until she gave him a slow shake of her head, then licked her lips.

Still empowered by the alchemy and his desire to breed her yet again, Caderyn set to work once more. Firm, demanding strokes guided his cock deep into her twitching, seed-filled sex. She mewled and sputtered beneath him, her toes curling, her stocking-covered legs thrashing against the bed. Desperate fingers sliced at the fine silk sheets. She bit down on the bedding to muffle a cry, causing Caderyn to yank her head back, for he was quite eager to hear every beautiful sound she made.

Hoarse, broken cries filled the room as he claimed her. Despite her exhaustion, Melisent managed to rock back against him, meeting his demands as best she could. His name left her lips again and again, along with constant pleas for him to use her, claim her, and breed her.

Caderyn was certain all of their efforts would have paid off by then. With how many climaxes he'd enjoyed, a pregnancy seemed assured. And yet he still rushed towards his next orgasm, guided by a painful, primal need. It was not just about furthering the dynasty or leaving a legacy. His lusts instead hearkened back to older, animalistic instincts that he could barely fathom. He was no longer a man, just a wild beast aching to mate.

Melisent's soft cries and whimpers, however, soon refocused his mind back upon his fiery love for her. Together they succumbed, their sweaty and shaky bodies colliding. The next sprays of his seed were less potent than before, the throbs growing almost painful. His loins ached and his shaft thrummed deep within her, spewing forth one last offering. The tension grew so great that he cried out, his thrusts faltering, his cock finally reaching its limits.

Panting and trembling, Caderyn nearly collapsed atop her, his muscular frame bearing down against her soft curves. Melisent whimpered and giggled beneath him, staring back at him over her shoulder. Biting down on her lip, she clenched around his aching shaft, causing him to cry out, half with agony and half with delight.

Finally he managed the strength to slip out of her. Completely undone by his own efforts and the delights of her body, Caderyn collapsed onto the sheets. Moonlight danced over her sweaty curves as she rolled over to rest her head upon his shoulder. She slipped her fingers down between her legs, letting out a shaky laugh.

Caderyn's body ached with greater pangs than he'd suffered during some battles. And yet he reveled in the soreness and the agony, as if they were marks of pride. He grinned lazily up at the ceiling, then down at his wife.

Hiswife. His empress.

What a strange but beautiful notion.

Caderyn had always known he'd be expected to marry for political reasons. Of course, the matchwas a political one, albeit a result of his own choices. The marriage had helped destroy Thandor and would ensure his dynasty's dominion over Jadewall and thus the Empire.

And yet it was more. So, so much more.

He leaned down to gently kiss her lips. She gripped his wrist and guided it down so their hands rested just above her sex. Neither said a word, though the implication of the gesture was clear.

Melisent's other hand rose, brushing over his scarred cheek. Her finger traced over the old wound which had started the journey that had eventually brought him to Melisent. So much had changed when that bolt had scraped over his cheek. Without that small dose of poison, he'd have never suffered the visions that had guided him to Solveig. His mother would have died and his entire path would have shifted. Would he have ever met Melisent if that had occurred?

He shuddered at the thought. Perhaps sensing the darkness swirling in his mind, she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

After another few minutes of breathless silence, she kissed him again.

"I know you have done so much for me already, Caderyn, but there is one more thing I must ask of you."

"Anything," he said, his voice raspy and weak.

"I know you forged an unusual bond with Solveig. I know you wish you could have helped raise your child with her. And I can understand that a piece of your heart will always belong to her and to the child. But I need your vow, Caderyn. I need your vow thatour children will take precedence. That the lives we create must stand above all others."

Similar fears had haunted his thoughts over the past few months. Just as his family had used Melisent's heritage as a weapon, his child with Solveig could become a weapon as well. Such a child, if he or she learned of their heritage, could turn that birthright into an asset. His firstborn could unite the north, or become a pawn in the games of some ambitious duke or duchess.

"I promise, Melisent," he said firmly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. "My heart, my steel, my power, my armies... all of them will protect the children we bring into this world."

She swallowed.

"And if, through some horrible turn of events, your firstborn child becomes a threat to our children? With whom will you stand?"

His mind reeled with the horrific possibilities. Caderyn pictured a horde of northern warriors rushing south under the banner of a king bearing his blood and birthright. He imagined his own Empire tearing itself apart as barons and dukes declared for a half-barbarian warlord instead of his trueborn children. He pictured armies ravaging the Empire, setting the land ablaze and staining the earth with blood.

And yet that would only happen if the child learned the truth... and Solveig was unlikely to share it. Surely she knew that only darkness and carnage could result from the child learning who their father was. The only others who knew were Tessandra, Pelagia, and Melisent. None of them had any reason to spread the truth, for they all knew the stakes.

"I will stand withyou, Melisent."

As much as he ached at the thought of his fatherless child growing up in Kovgaard, his children with Melisent would share a life with their father. He would know them and raise them in a way he never could with Solveig's child. The choice was a painful one, but was starkly clear nonetheless.

She blinked away her tears and he placed a soft kiss upon her forehead.

"Thank you," Melisent murmured. "I knew you would. But I just needed to hear you say it. Hearing the words aloud is armor for the soul."

**

As his exhausted and sated wife slumbered on the bed, Caderyn rose. Clad in nothing but a blanket wrapped around his body, Caderyn quietly crossed the room and opened the tiny pouch where he'd stowed the amulet of dragon fangs. Out of respect for Melisent, he'd stashed the amulet away with his other belongings rather than wear it to the wedding.

Regret and sorrow pulsed within him as he gently cradled Solveig's gift. Their child had a matching one, along with the dagger Caderyn had left behind. The sole bridge between father and child...

And yet it was more than a bridge. It was a weapon of sorts, a blade that would plunge into Melisent's heart once she gave birth. She'd spoken clearly of her fears of what his bastard child could do to their trueborn children, and he knew those fears would fester over the coming decades.

After taking several moments to stare down at the amulet, he crossed over to the door leading to the balcony, and stepped outside into the chilly embrace of the evening air.

Before him stretched the hilly countryside, dotted with towns, smaller keeps, pastures, paddocks, and farms. The people of that particular part of Ravenmark had been the first to assist his father's revolt against the usurper Garnoc. Now they had pledged their souls to Caderyn as their duke and emperor.

And yet his attention did not linger for long on those moonlit hamlets and farms. His gaze drifted across the landscape, over the rocky hills, grassy valleys, the ice-topped mountains, and then beyond to the shadowy horizon. Stars glittered above like the eyes of hungry beasts.

His attention fell back to the great stone road that sliced across the countryside. Caderyn and his companions had traveled that very same road on their long journey. His thoughts drifted back to the pilgrimage, sifting through the delights and horrors he'd encountered along the way. That sacred journey had seen him cross paths with Pelagia, Tessandra, and Melisent, while also inflicting wounds both physical and mental. That pilgrimage had broken and remade him, forging him into a man capable of seizing the imperial throne.

Decades from now, if his reign was prosperous and just, his loyal subjects might retrace that pilgrimage. The thought brought forth a quiet chuckle, wondering if such pilgrims would also try to recreate the debauchery he'd engaged in along the way.

The faint burst of amusement faded as he pondered the costs of that pilgrimage and his rise to power. Gwion. Nolmvar. The other guards who'd died during the journey. The soldiers of the rebel Everard. The Tsannori deserters who had tried to rob and ransom him. His own father. So many loyal soldiers on both sides. All those men butchered by Ketrik's ritual to curse Thandor's army. Aelred himself. Baron Gaspard. The mobs of peasants who had risen in revolt against Thandor.

Corpse after corpse. Rivers of blood. Countless skulls, endless tears.

His hand tightened around the amulet. The fangs bit into his palm.

He glanced over his shoulder to stare at his slumbering wife.

The horrifying cost of his ascension was all the more motivation to cling to his newfound power. To make such sacrifices worthwhile, he would be the ruler the Empire needed. He'd destroy the old feuds, encourage the flow of wealth and culture, and rebuild a flourishing Empire that would serve nobles and peasants alike.

What other choice did he have? To do otherwise would disrespect the dead.

Melisent murmured and shifted in her sleep, pulling the covers more tightly over her body. Caderyn sighed and closed the door behind him, granting his wife a reprieve from the night air.

His gaze returned to the countryside, then across the mountains.

Somewhere, far beyond the dark horizon, were Solveig and her child.

His child.

By now, the boy or girl would be months old. Learning. Growing.

Soon he or she would be walking, speaking, and perhaps coming to terms with the absence of a father. Pain shot through his heart, wondering if the child would be confused, afraid, or angry once they were old enough to understand. Would he or she long to learn the truth? Would he or she beg Solveig to reveal Caderyn's identity? Or would the child seize his or her own destiny, marching forth into the world unburdened by Caderyn's legacy?

Gods, he certainly hoped it was the latter.

After a deep breath, the ache faded. While he did still hunger for Solveig's touch and longed to meet his child, Caderyn had his own path now. He had an empire and an empress, after all. And the struggle was not quite finished. Already some of his promises were starting to unravel. To win in Jadewall, he'd offered the holy orders a complete exemption from taxes across the Empire, which had inspired outrage from a few barons as a result. Reports on the financial state of the duchies confirmed that he'd need more funds to fulfill his grand dreams. Doing so without the financial support of the holy orders would be difficult. Complicating things further was the fact that Asparra and Tsannor still had yet to fully submit. His brother Berent lurked in the shadows, still posing a potential threat.

Thus he could not risk lingering on the past. He had to push forward and fight for a better future for the Empire.

"One path of many," Caderyn murmured, letting out a long sigh.

He looked down at the amulet, then lifted it. The wind fluttered against the leather cord, as if nature itself was trying to tug the memento from his grasp. For a painful moment he pondered tossing the gift out into the night, allowing it to be cast down into the murky swamp clinging to the edges of the keep.

That would be the kinder path. Better to sunder all ties with his child and Solveig, to cast aside the memories. His hand tightened once more around the fangs. A thin trickle of blood leaked forth and dripped onto the stones, reminding him of the endless rivers of blood he'd spilt over the past few months.

How much more blood would flow because of that child? How much more blood would flow because of his other mistakes?

The amulet burned within his grasp. Regret, grief, and sorrow soon overshadowed the lingering pain inflicted by the fangs themselves.

And yet he could not let it go. Even as the worst possible futures played out in his mind, Caderyn lacked the strength to toss the amulet out into darkness. Even knowing it would pain Melisent... Caderyn could not cast it aside. Yes, he could keep it hidden, nestled deep somewhere in the dark corners of his palace... but he could not surrender it.

While he would likely never wear it again, out of respect for Melisent and their future children, he could never cast it out into the darkness. Instead he would keep it nestled away somewhere... just as he would hide away the painful desires he still felt towards Solveig.

Clenching the amulet even more tightly, Caderyn returned to the bedchamber, slipped the precious heirloom into the pouch where he kept his whetstone, and then walked quietly back over to the bed. Melisent still slumbered, her sun-blessed face bearing a small smile as her mind drifted within pleasant dreams.

As he settled back down on the soft bed beside her, Melisent's gray eyes fluttered open. She stared for a moment, the moonlight glittering across the bed.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them had to.

Just as she had sensed his torment on past occasions, she seemed to do so again. Melisent's hand reached out, brushing over his. Another hand rose, rising to cup his cheek and settling over the scar inflicted during the assassination attempt.

For an eternity they stared at one another. The wind rustled outside, creating a haunting accompaniment to their silent bond.

Caderyn knew she understood... and that was precisely why he loved her so dearly.

"One path of many," she said, shattering the silence with those soft, painful words. "Our path."

"Our path," he repeated, barely able to hear his words over the hissing of the wind.

**

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! I have a few other stories in the works, to include a direct sequel to this series, so be sure to follow me for more if you have not already. And if you have any interest in particular characters, places, or storylines in this setting, please sound off in the comments.