With a heavy heart, Chrysanthemum made her way across the open courtyard. What had once been bustling with activity was now nearly deserted. The watchfires along the battlements had been lit, and guards patrolled in silence along the upper walk.
As she reached the arched entryway, the great clock began to toll. The maid took a long look over her shoulder, casting her gaze upwards towards the darkened tower behind her. High up, from the room under the eaves, bright bluish light spilled out from spaces in the thatching and chinks in the mortar. Taking a deep sigh, she turned back and entered the Queen's tower.
Up and up she climbed. She ran her fingers lightly against the curved walls as she climbed, a tiny jolt of energy radiating up her arm each time they touched one of the golden runes and filigrees inlaid into them. A intervals she would cross in front of an arrow port or window, and each time she would cast another glance up to the lighted room in the dark tower.
At last she reached the top of the smooth curving stairs. Before her lay the Queen's chambers. Squaring her shoulders and smoothing her gown, she threw her head back and strode resolutely towards her destiny.
As she made he way through the anterooms, soft tinkling music greeted her ears. Coming at last to the Queen's bedchamber, she saw many long tapered candles had been lit in lanterns of red glass. All around flickered deep red light, playing on the stone walls, scampering among the shadows and niches.
There before her lay several of the Queen's ladies in waiting. All were naked or nearly so, their skin flushed and hot. Against their throats, their bond-stones glowed dark red. They all smiled the sweetest smiles to the maid as she entered, purring like cats. Their eyes glowed faintly in the soft glow of the candle lanterns, and they burned her with their stares.
Above them, stretched out upon her massive bed lay the Queen against her mountain of pillows. She was neither clothed nor dressed. She wore a shimmery blue robe of sorts, but it hung loose about her; her perfect breasts unencumbered beneath it. She seemed at first not to notice the maid, instead absently brushing her nipples softly with her fingertips.
At last, she regarded Chrysanthemum with cold eyes. When she smiled, her teeth stood out sharp and white against her pale porcelain skin. Her wet pink tongue flicked momentarily across her full lips, and in almost a whisper, she welcomed her new arrival.
"Good evening... my sister."
- - -
The Inquisitor looked up from his thoughts as the chimes of the great clock tolled deeply throughout the castle. All at once, his demeanor shifted again, no longer the hushed conspirator, now he once again became dominant.
"Oh, my..." he toned. "The hour has grown late. We have become lost in our talk, you and I. There is still much to do. I have forgotten my task, it seems."
He stood and gathered up his robes. "Come, my princess... there is still another matter we must attend. Had you forgotten?"
Truthfully, the princess had forgotten all about his earlier promises. The departure of Chrysanthemum, the retelling of the plot, they had crowded all other thoughts from her head.
