Standing before my favorite tavern, I kick the wet sand off my boots before I open the rickety wooden door and walk in. The crowd is a light one tonight, with only a handful of patrons and a few ladies for hire. The ladies smile as I walk through the room, making sure to pull their already revealing tops a little lower. The ladies for hire are unapologetic in their sensuality, they are looked upon the same way any other woman in our kingdom is. Without judgment or condemnation. These women have chosen their work asmænaand are happy to give their gifts of pleasureto others. They aren't looked upon with disdain for their bodies as some women are in other kingdoms. No, these are respected women, choosing to embrace their bodies and the sensuality the Goddess bestowed upon them.
I walk toward the back table, pulling out a wooden chair. I sit down and adjust my sword to lay across my back instead of poking into my hip bone. The owner smiles at me, already bringing me a glass of my favorite ale. Chantara saunting behind him. He nods before notifying me, “She's been waiting for you … ” He sets down the foaming ale, sloshing a bit onto the table before retreating back to the bar.
Chantara comes up behind me, her brazen red hair falling in loose curls down to her hips. She rubs her chest against my back and begins kneading the knots out of my neck. Her long painted fingernails dig into the tender muscles. The same muscles that Carnaxa’s constant recklessness likes to add stress to. Not to mention my constant worrying of what will happen when it’s time for her to leave. I am anxious to know if she will take me with her or not, and then I worry about my place in Antalis if she doesn't. I've always been her personal guard since taking the oath. I would most likely remain Captain of theKe Neye, I’ve earned that right. But I worry still, what will become of me, all I’ve ever known is protecting her.
“How are you tonight, Thy?” Chantara whispers softly into my ear. Her teeth gently tug at my earlobe. Her soft fingertips trail my collarbone as she does so.
“It's been a long day,” I exhale, as I lean back into her embrace. While we take no vows of chastity as guards of Antalis, I am not one to sow my oats everywhere. Not that I am innocent, I did have a few lunar years after the flogging where I was more liberal in my sexual escapades. I would find anyone who would have me during that time. But recently, Chantara has become the one I seek in the dark of night.
“Want to talk about it?” she asks as she continues to knead her long fingers into my muscles. I don’t want to talk about it, because talking only leads to me wanting things I can’t have. I make the only decision that will help me forget.
“Not really.” I take another gulp of ale, finishing it completely before turning to face her, and pull her down onto my lap. She giggles as she pushes her red-stained lips upon mine, her tongue dancing softly with mine. She tastes of ale and honey. She pulls away and kisses my cheek.
She runs her fingers through my hair and whispers softly, “Let's go up to the room, what I have in mind doesn't require talking.” She eyes the stairs and I nod in agreement, not stopping to remove her from me. I stand up, grabbing the back of her thighs and wrap them around my waist. We haphazardly walk up the stairs to the room I know she has waiting, the door already open.
Kicking the door shut, I lay her gently down on the bed. Her small room is warm with a fire in the corner casting dancing shadows through the area. Her gauzy tan dress rides up to her waist as she scoots further back. Her skin flushes, her porcelain white skin now a rosy pink. I watch as her chest rises and falls while her dark green eyes watch me, wishing they were eyes of blue.
I quickly remove my armor and cast my linen shirt to a corner of the room. Sinking onto the feather bed between her legs, I trace the angle of her knee, down her soft thigh with my fingertips. Following the same path as my fingers, I kiss slowly toward her core as she moans softly. I grab her legs and drape them over my shoulders having her presented like a feast before me.
“Always the gentlemen, pleasuring the ladies first,” she says flirtatiously. Her fingers curl into the blankets beneath her, my cock already pushing hard against the leathers of my pants.Looking up at her, I swipe my tongue against her center. A shiver runs down her body when my tongue softly flicks her clit. Her desire coats my tongue as I bury it deep in her, feeling her body erupt in goosebumps and a loud moan rushes from her lips. She pulls at the roots of my hair, and I growl against her. Using one finger, I push inside her, finding the spot I know she craves. She bucks against me, already wanting more. I use my thumb to rub against her clit, picking up the pace with my finger. As I am about to add another finger, she suddenly pushes me away, and I look up at her confused.
“What's wrong?” I push up to my knees and rub my hands along the inside of her thighs.
“Nothing,” she breathes heavily. “I’ve thought about you all day, and I want your prick inside of me instead of just your tongue tonight.”
She leans up, pulling the thread of my pants, and my length pulses forward as she pushes them down to my knees. She looks up at me with her round eyes and dark lashes before taking me into her mouth and I gasp as the warmth of it overwhelms me. She hollows her cheeks, taking me deep and I push against her.
“Wait,” I tell her as she releases me, “these damn pants are in the way.”
She leans back and smiles devilishly at me as I stand to take them off quickly, tossing them in the corner with my shirt. She races her nails along my chest, sending shivers down my spine.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I motion for her to come to me. She climbs on top of me, her thighs straddling my waist. She leans on her knees as I align my cock at her entrance before I push myself up into her and bite softly on her chin as she comes down. Her dress bunches between us and I rip the bottom, getting it out of the way. She doesn't miss a thrust as she rides me, her moans mingling with the sounds of the streets below wafting through the windows.
I push up and into her faster as she digs her nails into my chest and I grasp the back of her neck and grip her hip. She bounces against me, her hair falling over her breast. I loosen the knot of her dress at her neck and it falls, her breast rubbing against my chest. Her pink nipples peak and I lean down greedily to take them into my mouth. She clenches around me and as her climax takes her, and I push deep inside her. Her walls pulse around me as I find my own release. It's in those moments, as we regain our breaths, I find myself still thinking of another, and I know I won't be waking up to Chantara tomorrow morning because I need to be somewhere else.
four
CARNAXA
The book falls to the floor, the heavy thud waking me. I lazily lean down from the high-backed chair and pick it up from the floor. Just as I expected,The History of Shastonput me right to sleep.
I stand and stretch then walk toward my vanity and begin taming my Goddess-blessed mess of hair. The light cerulean blue strands are going in all directions, and the frizz is out of control. Only few remain who have hair the colors of therainbow. Before the war it was common for babies to be born with all colors upon their scalp. Now, it’s a rarity, something else that left this earth with magic. I grab my mother's golden brush and begin brushing from the bottom up, holding the ends in my fist, the way my mother taught me when I was a young girl. The memories of her have faded some over the years, but her lessons will always remain.
My father's eyes stare back at me, sky blue, deep-set and almond shaped. When I was younger many thought I was my father's twin but as I've aged – it's my mother's face that stares back at me. I could almost be considered her twin, even my pale ivory skin is the same shade as hers. Her pointed chin and round high cheekbones. My slender nose, which I used to hate, are all reminders of what we've lost.
After her death, we created her burial ship as we do for all those whose lives were taken instead of called by the Goddess. The ship was made from the white palms that cover the beaches nearest the sea. We decorated it with her favorite herbs and flowers. Then we let it go into the sea - carried by the current. The smell of salt and lavender swept back to us as we let her go. I watched for as long as I could, her ship becoming smaller and smaller until it was no more than a tiny speck against the light of the crescent moon above.
My father, in his grief, tried brutishly to take back his shell from her neck. It didn’t make sense, but to him, he wanted to keep a piece of her. He scratched with his fingers until the tips were bloody and her chest was marred. But an oath of marriage is not meant to be broken, and nothing he did could get the shell back. I glance at the base of my own neck knowing Ereon will soon place his shell on me as well. Shastonians don’t recognize the practice, but I would never allow my wedding ceremony to be without it.
Walking to the wardrobe, I choose a silken gown of gold, the sides are cut out and the skirt becomes sheer as it reaches the floor. I finish braiding my hair in twin fishtail braids and let it drape down my back, before I slip on a pair of thin sandals that tie around the ankles.
Opening my door, Thylas stands outside, leaning his back against the far wall, facing the door to my rooms. I eye the marks along his collar bone, he's been with a woman recently. Not that I'm jealous, that was never a path for us. It’s still irritating that he can go and do whatever he likes, and yet now that I'm betrothed, I am supposed to be chaste till my wedding night. The only time an Antalian is supposed to be chaste, man or woman, is when they are betrothed, a tradition started from a superstition. The belief being, if you were tempted to be with someone after your betrothal, then a burdensome marriage awaited. But still, there was a time I thought maybe the ripples would happen. He could have been my twin drop but the ebb never occurred.
“Good morning,Nohæ.” He bows slightly before putting his hand on the top of his sword, and his other hand sweeps toward the corridor.
“Good morning, Thylas.” I smile and walk past him. There will be no losing him today, he's going to make sure he is stuck to me like algae on stone.
“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” He's called meNohæsince he learned the old language of Antihana, a language theKe Neyeuse but is lost in most daily speech except for our prayers.
