"Are you quite sure about this?" Firanda asked.
In the distance, they could see the wooden palisade surrounding the wooden fort that was the home of the Baron of Gorendale, her uncle. It sat high up on a hill, giving it quite the view of the surrounding area, an important feature of any estate this far out in the wilderness.
"I mean, the few letters I wrote to him did not mention you at all." The young noble shifted noticeably in her saddle. Even riding side saddle, she had her free hand buried between her lewdly spread legs. Her dress didn't allow her to hike it up as much as she would have liked, limiting the stimulation she could give herself. It had been a few hours since she'd been able to achieve orgasm, and it would still be some time before she would be able to achieve any sort of release. Zerafina could not help but smile thinking about what a desperate, horny slut the formerly snobbish noble had turned into.
"It is quite all right," Zerafina replied. "You did not want to be seen as rising above your station in that a countess saw fit to take you into her circle," she said. "As it was, I was to visit my parents during our break from the Academy but they were called away from their estate. Rather than let me languish alone, you graciously extended an invitation to accompany you to your estate."
Firanda stared at Zerafina for a moment before nodding her head. "Yes, I mean, of course. That just makes sense. But... how?"
Zerafina gave a small shake of her head. She wasn't entirely sure how the idea had come to her, almost as if it had pushed into her mind from an outside source. She was forced to wonder just how directly her patron was influencing her thoughts and actions.
Galfaunt, the Baron of Gorendale, stood at the gate with his household retinue to greet them when they arrived. Zerafina had given Tidgit, her imp familiar, instructions to keep out of sight for the time being. There was no need to show her hand just yet.
"Niece!" the baron bellowed. He was a tall, broad man, his gray hair thinning near the top, but with a full beard that hung down to his chest. Some of the muscle of his youth had turned soft, but Zerafina did not doubt that he still possessed the strength to swing the broadsword that hung at his side. "What is this? Guests?"
Firanda graciously dismounted from her steed. Zerafina noted she kept her hands firmly clasped in front of her.
"Greetings, uncle. I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to forewarn you, but indeed, I do bring a guest to your estate. This is the Countess Zerafina. She is a peer from the Academy. She would have been all alone in her estate, save for servants. I said she would do no such thing and insisted she be our guest," Firanda said. Zerafina could feel the lust emanating off of her, knew that it was taking all of her self-control to not rip her clothes off and throw her at the nearest person.
"And these... creatures are her servants?" he asked, looking past Firanda at the towering reptilian forms of the skyyrim.
"Ahh, yes," Firanda said. "They are bloodsworn to serve her house."
Zerafina allowed herself a small smile, knowing that it was bonds of lust and not loyalty that tied the skyyrim to her.
"What a rare gift," Galfaunt murmured. "Why I hear that a single one is a match for any five men. Is that true?"
"Well, in my experience, they do manage to more than hold their own and I have found their service more than satisfactory," Zerafina responded. "I find that they do respond well to a firm hand, however, and in that regard they are much like any man you might take in your service."
"Is that so?" Galfaunt replied with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Be that as it may, I would be but a poor host if I insisted we converse outside like the common rabble. Be assured that my house's hospitality is at your disposal, Countess."
Zerafina gave a small bow and dismounted from her horse. "You are too kind, sir," she replied.
The baron extended his arm to his niece and together they proceeded into the estate. Padryc offered his arm to Zerafina and she took it gracefully. The way his eyes were drawn to her deep plunging neckline sent a thrill through her body. As soon as she stepped past the threshold into the estate, however, she felt like someone had dumped ice water down her back. She looked, wide eyed around, trying to get a sense of what caused her sudden discomfort.
"Is something the matter, my dear?" the baron asked, a look of genuine concern on his face.
"No, I just... caught a sudden chill is all." Zerafina felt her eyes drawn to the mantle above the door. There, carved in wood above the door, was a sigil of Palla, Goddess of Protection and Virtue. She looked to Firanda, worried that the lustful enchantment she had woven over the baron's niece would be dissipated, but she looked much the same as she did before she entered the estate. Padryc steadied her with a hand. "Too much time on the road."
"Hmm, yes," the baron said. "I can imagine you will want to freshen yourself after such an arduous journey. I'll have Marta make up the guest room, if my niece can spare her services for a time. This is but a humble country estate, and we don't have many household servants. With Marta gone with Firanda, there's been a decided lack of a woman's touch about the place." He paused by a staircase in the hall. The walls were covered with thick tapestries along with more than one hunting trophy.
"Yes, she told me about the tragic fate of your wife, along with her parents. You seem to have plenty of swords-for-hire, though."
"Hmm, yes. This far out in the hinterlands, it only makes sense. We have our hands full dealing with bandits and monsters... and the occasional cultist."
"Really?" Zerafina asked, feigning surprise. "I would think that would be more of a concern in the cities."
"Hardly," Galfaunt snorted. "The peasantry is uneducated and unaware of the dangers that the demonic might present, and so they are more likely to fall to vile temptation. I myself have destroyed more than one nest of corruption devoted to the dark gods."
"You must be a bastion of piety and light." Zerafina bowed her head, hoping the baron could not see the hatred blazing in her eyes.
"Me? I am but a humble servant," he replied. "Before I met my wife, I was hardly a pillar of virtue, giving myself to drink and whoring. But, once I met her, she set me on the path of Palla. With her passing, I have renewed my devotion to the goddess."
"Truly?" Zerafina asked. "I am surprised you haven't taken another as your wife. Have you no children?"
Galfaunt shook his head. "Sadly, we were not blessed in that way. Firanda remains my nearest heir, and when I am gone, this estate shall be hers.
"But enough of that. Surely you must be tired. I will send someone for you once dinner is served."
Zerafina bowed a little deeper. She allowed Marta to take her to the guest room. Most of the furniture was covered with white sheets that Marta promptly removed.
"Sorry for the bit of a mess," she said. "As you can imagine, the baron and Firanda don't get much in the way of visitors, especially since the sickness."
"The one that took Firanda's parents and his wife?" Zerafina asked.
"That's the one. The priests of Pallas made a big deal of it being the fault of wicked people, and well, the baron he took right to that. He became a full devotee of the goddess. He even set up a small chapel devoted to her in the basement."
