All characters are fictional and over 18 years old.
Rhea walked in a straight, determined line down the broken, mud-crusted steps to the harbor. It was summer in Bronze Point, so most laborers walked around in light tunics and sandals to stay cool in the blazing heat. Rhea wore a conspicuous ankle-length cloak that kept her body shrouded in thick, black fabric. She was melting.
"I cannot fully express how silly this is," Iona said. She wore a simple dress and a corset that she loosened as she ran after the stubborn girl. "Your father strictly forbade this."
"Funny, I don't remember hearing him say that," Rhea panted, moving quickly through the street. Her eyes were set on a large crowd gathering around a pier.
"Oh, don't you start with me..."
"If he is too busy to enforce his decree, then how can he order it in the first place?" Rhea grabbed Iona's hand and pulled her through the crowd. The scent of sea water and sweat was strong, assaulting noses used to flower beds and fresh linen.
"You're acting like a child, princess. Don't be petty," Iona muttered. She pushed a stray elbow out of her gut as she was pulled through the crowd.
"Petty? Me? You must be thinking of another lady."
"Gods, I wish I was," Iona caught up to the princess and put both hands on her shoulders, slowing her down as she broke through the front of the crowd. Rhea saw what crowd was gathering around. Two guards in leather armor pushed a bound woman towards a wooden pole. She was blindfolded with his hands bound in front of her waist with braided rope. One of the guards secured her wrists to the top of the pole.
"Rani..." Iona whispered to herself. She recognized the prisoner.
"You know her?" Rhea asked.
"Of course not," Iona avoided Rhea's question. "Must we watch this? This is not a place for you, little lady."
Rhea ignored her handmaiden. She watched as a tall woman in white robes strode up to the man, the sun catching her blonde hair in glorious light. She wore a pendant with an etching of sun bisected by a sword, the symbol of the Bonded priestess order. The woman stood before the crowd, her arms spread open as if to embrace all who watched.
"Today is a wonderful day, is it not? I can feel the love and warmth radiating from you all," she projected. Her voice was crisp and clear as if spoken directly into Rhea's mind.
"We work so hard to spread love and understanding with every breath we take. I know all of you share this love with each other, and I'm so proud of you all. Our dear acolyte here has volunteered to act as a firm reminder of our need for communal love," the woman turned to Rani, her eyes burning with passion. She walked up to the bound woman and gave her a warm embrace. Rani shifted nervously on her toes, blind to the crowd in front of her. The priestess' hands floated up to her cheeks. She held them firm while she kissed her lips softly.
"Pleasure," she declared. "We all feel love in pleasure, do we not?" The crowd grumbled in agreement. Light flashed in the priestess' green eyes, feeding off the energy. She grabbed Rani's thin linen tunic with both hands and tore it from her body, throwing it at the ground by her feet. Rani gasped as the fabric ripped at her skin. She was completely naked before the crowd; her shoulders and hips were pink where her clothing was torn away. The priestess removed Rani's blindfold, forcing bright sunlight into her eyes. When she saw the crowd surrounding her, Rani stared at the wood between her toes.
"Pain," the priestess declared. "Who among you feels love in pain?" The crowd was silent. Some turned to walk away, shaking their heads at the humiliation. Iona tried to turn Rhea away from the bound woman, but Rhea was transfixed.
"Ah, it's tricky, isn't it? We find it hard to love that which hurts us, but there is warmth in torment. There is clarity in anguish. Life becomes so simple when all that fills your mind is white-hot pain," the priestess shouted. She procured a wicked leather flogger from her robes. "Rani Kydan, do you accept my love?"
Rani was silent for a moment.
"I accept your love, Priestess," Rani finally whispered, her voice fluttering through the crowd.
The priestess raised the whip and struck the bound woman across her back four times in quick succession. Pink stripes criss-crossed Rani's pale skin, but she did not scream out in pain. The priestess circled around her like a stalking cat, lashing out with the flogger on every stretch of Rani's delicate skin. Her breasts, thighs and back were the priestess' favorite targets, quickly turning red under repeated strikes. Leather met skin in loud smacks, followed quickly by gasps from the bound woman. As Rani endured the strokes, her muscles seemed to relax, her face awash with tranquility. The priestess was whipping her into a state of meditation; Rani's eyes closed and a peaceful smile spread across her face.
"Rhea. We are leaving," Iona tugged at the princess, but she was hypnotized by the public whipping. She was hot under her cloak. The beating sun and beating of the whip made her sweat profusely.
"Iona, please... look into her eyes. She looks like she's floating," Rhea whispered. "How can something so horrible..." she trailed off, biting her lower lip.
The priestess stopped in front of Rani and dropped her flogger. Rhea shifted to get a better angle, pushing past a dozen onlookers. She saw the priestess cupping Rani's face, both women smiling and talking in hushed voices. The priestess kissed the top of her forehead and stood back up. She scanned the sea of people as if looking for someone in particular. Then, her bright green irises burned deep into Rhea's. The princess was stunned, suddenly feeling exposed despite her heavy cloak.
"I ask again, who among you feels love in pain?" The priestess paused dramatically. The crowd was silent. "Princess Rhea, do you wish to feel my love?"
Rhea's heart dropped into her stomach. The tall woman stared straight into her eyes, one hand outstretched towards her. Slowly, the crowd turned to where Rhea and Iona were standing. Some looked confused, others pointed and nudged their neighbors to look at the princess. Rani looked up, her gaze meeting Rhea's. She had a soft smile on her lips and warmth in her inviting green eyes. Iona took a step in between Rhea and the priestess, her arms crossed defensively across her breasts.
"You would be wise to return to your worship, Priestess," Iona said, her voice a growl. The priestess smiled and walked up to Iona, her white robes billowing in the wind.
"You too would be wise to return to your worship, Acolyte," she spoke only loud enough for Rhea and Iona to hear. Iona opened her mouth as if to protest, but she bit her tongue. She gave the priestess one last menacing look before grabbing her ward forcefully and pulling her away from the crowd. As they climbed the steps out of the harbor, Rhea looked over her shoulder. She saw the priestess lift Rani off the pole and wrap her in a robe.
"Iona... you're one of them?" Rhea whispered as she hurried along the bustling street.
"I am," Iona's voice was curt and her steps were swift. She looked over her shoulder, nervous that someone was following them after the public humiliation.
"This changes everything! To have a former acolyte in my father's employ... You must tell me everything," Rhea was flush with excitement. Finally, she could learn about the secretive order from someplace other than a book or a public worship.
"That's enough," Iona spun on the princess and grabbed the front of her cloak. She dropped her tone low, quiet and angry, "You're playing a dangerous game and you haven't a clue what the rules are. Your father..."
"Is not even in Bronze Point..."
"Do not interrupt me," Iona shook her. "You will shut your mouth and walk straight back to your room. And don't you think that I won't hit a princess," Iona added, blood running hot. "I've done far worse to far more important women."
Rhea's eyes widened. Her handmaiden rarely admonished her and never threatened violence, though Rhea knew just how to push her buttons. Iona was hired by Rhea's father to keep her safe and attend to her needs, but the princess had a real problem with authority. Rhea went through a dozen handmaidens before Iona took the job, each too frustrated with her escapades.
The princess remained silent, as ordered. There was a new tension between the women as they climbed the steps to Rhea's chambers. She followed her maid into her chambers and closed the heavy wooden door behind them. The princess' chambers were sprawling, but strangely utilitarian. The opulence of the castle around her stopped at the door to her suite. Inside were the standard accommodations for a woman of her station: a large four-poster bed with finely pressed sheets, a massive stone bath carved out of a single stone, and a collection of wardrobes filled with dresses, gowns, and cloaks; all unworn.
If it weren't for the fine sheets on her bed, there was no telling that this room belonged to a proper lady. The walls were covered in diagrams, charts, handwritten lists, and sketches. Multiple desks and bookshelves were overflowing with volumes of books from libraries across the kingdom. Iona had long given up on trying to organize the space. For every stack of books she picked up, another seemed to appear on the floor, a windowsill, or the bottom of a wardrobe. As Iona crossed the room to the bath, she gathered a pile of crumpled-up sketches and tossed them into the fireplace, putting up a small fight against the whirlwind of a princess.
Rhea pulled her hood down and pushed her sweat-matted hair behind her ears, following her maid. She held her arms out expectantly by the bath, waiting for Iona to remove her clothing. The maid dutifully began stripping the princess for her bath, tossing the dirty clothing into a wicker basket next to the basin. Underneath her bulky cloak, Rhea hid a short, athletic body. She had a strong jaw and wide, expressive brown eyes with long lashes. They seemed to constantly flicker around the room, looking for something to analyze. Rhea's sunset-orange hair was cut short and tied back out of her face, styled for function over fashion. Her calves and thighs were defined with muscle, strengthened from years of outrunning her maids on wild chases. Her hips and breasts were small but well-framed by her muscular build. If it weren't for the silver signet ring on her finger with her family's seal, she would've been the most beautiful farmer on Bronze Point.
"Can I speak now?" Rhea asked, feeling cool air on her neck as her cloak was pulled off her body. Iona paused her fingers on the top button of Rhea's blouse.
"Yes you may," Iona nodded, quickly unbuttoning the light garment and throwing it into the basket.
"I want to know how Rani felt up there," Rhea pondered, watching as her maid knelt to remove her skirt.
"Is that so?" Iona asked, her voice languid.
"The Bonded rituals are just so... intimate. I can't help but wonder what it's like to participate in them," Rhea tactically tried to pull information out of her handmaiden.
"Keep wondering, little lady," Iona said, struggling with the skirt. She twisted at the waist, finally pulling it off Rhea's hips a little harder than she should have. Rhea felt her insides turn. She remembered how easily the priestess ripped Rani's clothes from her body.
