Urmas Madal hadn''t changed at all, or so it had seemed, for as long as Rahela had been living in Yahsin''s Imperial Castle. He still lived on the workshop''s second floor. His wife and children still worked to support his career. Rahela had ordered some autumn appropriate soap some time ago, and now she wanted to visit this soaper to claim the product. A golden brown soap with a spicy fragrance would''ve been a fine gift for the Emperor. Rahela was mildly surprised to find that tall jester, Leran, sitting in a chair in the workshop''s ground floor and asking a somewhat busy Urmas Madal all sorts of questions. "It''s like magic," the Jester said with a dreamy tone, holding his own chin with an arm on the table. "Ash and water makes such a terrifying substance, but it''s so incredibly useful." Once Rahela and her entourage were close enough, they stopped, and Rahela asked the soaper, "Is the Jester interfering with your work, Madal?" Cutting a block of soap by hand, not looking up from this task, Urmas Madal replied, "No Your Majesty. He''s merely offered his chatter." "Have you accepted his chatter?" Rahela asked as she watched Leran suddenly lean his chair back on two legs and rock it back and forth. She imagined he might purposely fall backwards. "For now, My Lady." The soaper said as he paused with his cutting and put his blade to one side. "Are you here for your order?" With a small nod, Rahela confirmed. Then she waited as one of the soaper''s assistants ran off to find the soap. Meanwhile, Leran still kept himself back, just barely holding himself from falling, and so childishly blithe about it. "Madal," he suddenly said, "I want to order soap from you. Are you expensive?" "Very expensive," the soaper answered as he patiently waited beside his partially cut soap. "You couldn''t afford me." His uncaring expression unchanging, Leran said, "Ah well. Do you think Her Majesty would mind telling what sort of soap she''s ordered? I''m curious." "It''s a soap for His Majesty," Rahela told the tall man, "otherwise you need not know." "Ah." To Rahela''s surprise, the Jester set his chair back down on all four legs, although it was done so very loudly. "You''re still missing a lady-in-waiting." "That''s none of your concern, Jester," she reminded him. Shrugging, Jester Leran said, "Your Majesty is right and just." The assistant returned soon, and in his arms there was a lovely wooden box with autumn leaves and delicate rivers lacquered on the lid and sides. Once that pretty lid was flipped open, Rahela saw reddish brown bars with uneven, thin stripes of a gold colored mica. The fragrance was quite heady. Rahlea wasn''t certain when the Jester had gotten so close to her, especially since she hadn''t even heard his chair scrape against the floor. She nearly jumped when she heard his voice just above her. "Ah! That''s a manly set. His Majesty has a thoughtful wife." Her colorful eyes widening, Rahela stepped away from him just as her female bodyguard took a step closer to her. Then that young Empress said, "Do you have a request for me to hear?" The Jester shook his head, his dark hair swinging about. "No, My Lady, but I am wondering if I should be more curious with soap ingredients, particularly the lye. Might I ask Your Majesty a question?" Taking and closing the box of soap from the assistant, Rahela replied, "I''ll hear your question." "Have you ever considered collecting a jar of lye? You are the sort to collect such dangerous things, or that''s what I''ve been told." He smiled then. Something about that smile was tilted, although Rahela could have sworn on her life that it was at a normal angle. Why did she think it was tilted? Was it more of a feeling than a truth? "Not at this time," Rahela said as she started walking away, her group following her. "Continue with your innocent life, Jester."
As intense as the rarest and most beautiful gemstones, yet terribly exhausted, the Empress Consort''s eyes seemed to focus on nothing. Her head was pointed down, as if the sweetly dusted water was interesting, but those lovely eyes gave the truth away. She didn''t care for the bath water at that time. She had barely cared for her meal. Most of it had either been untouched or slid about with a utensil. Irakly put his elbow a bit past the edge of the pool as he watched a braided loop slowly escape the wrapping on her head. He wondered how long until it would slip and fall, smacking her shoulder. "Rahela. You''ll fall asleep soon." Her jaw tightened only for a second or more, and she made a short hum in her throat. Irakly reached out to tap under her chin with a fingertip, slightly moving her head up for only another second. "We''ll leave the water. You''ve been reading and riding far too much. That mule of yours might be having nightmares." Irakly imagined that Rahela wanted to say, "I hope that''s not true." What happened was less interesting. Rahela closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. He took her arm and helped her climb out of the pool. Then, enjoying the light bacon aroma, he helped her dry off and dried himself while she sat on a stool and kept her arms wrapped about herself. He performed similar actions with clothing, and they were soon both dressed, except for their wrapped hair. That was taken care of quickly because Irakly amused himself with his wife''s lovely hair very soon, letting the air comb through it as well as his literal bone comb. His hair was much simpler to deal with. With their hair free, yet still damp, the couple left the bathing chamber and went off to the bedchamber. The chamberboys were still obedient. They were nowhere in the area, knowing that they were certainly not meant to be there at that time. Once Rahela was on her side of the bed, she essentially collapsed. She wasn''t always this way, but this certainly wasn''t the first time. His wife refused to be idle for long. Her mind must always be occupied, at least until her body refused to allow it. Irakly knelt down near her and ran his fingers through one of Rahela''s locks. Her breath deepened quickly. Her light silk gown moved with it. Then he lied down with her. Even when the world finally darkened again, he was there, in and out of sleep, looking at his wife when he was out. He managed to be awake when that little woman finally stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes with a lazy hand. Irakly sat up too, and he smiled down at her sleepy and nearly confused expression. "Good evening. Have you recuperated?" Rahela groaned something about water. Irakly told her to wait a moment so he could find a tray with a jug and cups. He returned to her soon and handed her one of those cups. She drank her water, and he set it all aside. Then, surprising her, he hugged her up and into his lap. Her hands slapped onto his chest, and she whined deep in her throat. "Ah, Little Bacon, you''re warm and tender, a fine nest for a child to grow." He slid his hand up her back, his fingers pressing through her hair again. Then he left her back to put some of that hair to his lips for a tight kiss. There was a mumbling and a sigh, and Rahela rubbed her cheek on his clothes as if she wanted to scrape something off, although Irakly wanted to compare it to a cat''s nuzzling. She then reached up to pry his arms off, which he didn''t mind. Rubbing one of her eyes again, the woman softly told him, "I hope to have a full nest before you leave." She shuffled a bit away and laid down on her back. She even moved her hair out from under herself and threw it above her head, giving a flame-like shape to the pretty mass. The bridge of Irakly''s nose wrinkled. "Your voice has turned cold. Will you have more lies for me?" Her head turned to one side, and he watched the shadows darken her pretty cheek. "I''ve never intended to lie to Your Majesty." "Yet you do lie on occasion," Irakly said as he crawled over to one side of her and then got up to his knees. "Whenever I demand the warmth from your belly," here, he let his fingertips graze the fabric over her abdomen, "there are times when you pretend it''s not there, that you only receive me because of your societal and political needs." His hand curved, his fingernails danced around. "You''re human, Little Bacon, but you pretend that isn''t so." He saw movement, a tiny flex in that belly. "My Lord," she murmured almost sadly, "Have I not been a loyal and just wife? Please don''t taunt me." "Ah, pitiable." His fingers moved to one of the woman''s sides, where they plucked and tugged on a sneaky bit of lacing. "I can''t see your eyes, but I imagine they''re quite furious." He saw the fingers of one of her hands flex sharply. "I don''t understand," she said. "Even when your body is meek, even when your control your hands," he had some of her gown open here, "even when you turn your face away from me, there''s still danger in your eyes. As beautiful as a poisonous frog from a tropical forest." He was working on the laces on her other side when she asked, "Have you compared me to a frog?" "A very lovely frog that one shouldn''t eat." Irakly had the gown loosened, and he reached up to pull and gather her collar down, even more than that, for her upper arms and bosom soon weren''t covered by that gown. The plain chemise was there instead, a thin boundary hiding the creamy skin. "Very charming as well. Now, my Little Darling, what dreadful thoughts are mixing in your mind?" "I have no answer, My Lord." He''d expected that. Irakly used his hands to support his weight as he leaned over the woman, and his lips slid and pressed onto her throat. He felt the muscles twitch, even felt a little swallow, as if the she''d nervously taken some saliva down. He whispered into this soft flesh, "A beautiful little deceiver. How can one not be drawn to such an interesting woman?" A few more light kisses. Then his teeth gave gentle bites. He felt her shiver at each one. He pulled back and slid his palm up one of her stockings, pressing on the leg. He had most of the skirts up when he murmured, "It won''t be long before I''ll have you honest again." He felt all of her limbs twitch and wiggle a bit as he pushed the skirts up even more, and he lightly drew lines on her thigh with his fingernails. The tight little breaths the woman tried to suppress had Irakly''s body heating. He wondered if her toes flexed in her stockings. His head rose. "If I give you a chip of my own honesty, would you kindly reciprocate?" The leg he hadn''t touched bent upwards. One of Rahela''s hands flew up to cover some of her face. Irakly wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to groan. He settled for forcing down a lump of saliva. "Rahela." His voice was like a soft breeze, and so that name sounded gentler to his ears. The woman didn''t respond. He untied the stocking he was touching, and as he pulled the loosened cloth down, he repeated her name with only a touch more force. He saw the fingers at her face bend a little. He sighed, shook his head a moment, even closed his eyes. And opened them. Saw not a single change. And said. "I''m fond of you. In truth, too fond. When I''m gone, and I must be gone then, I''ll pine." Again, not a single change. He put more of a grip on her thigh, and he quietly told the woman, "You have my heart, Rahela. It will be in your care once I leave." She turned her face back to look up at him, her hand sliding away. He could see the blurred lines around her eyes and the tightness in her mouth that had only been visible for part of a second. That hand from before rose as if she wanted him to put his palm onto hers, and she said so terribly sweetly, "My Lord, how can I not have similar feelings?" More dishonesty. He took her hand as she''d likely wanted him to. A smooth little thing. If she wasn''t such a liar, if she didn''t give him all the false yet pretty words he''d expected, would he even feel as he did? He kissed her hand and then changed its position, lowering again, pinning that hand down as he put his mouth to hers. Hot lips, their tongues were somehow hotter. Then he turned her body to one side so he could comfortably lie down close to her. He was soon touching the hair between her thighs. Another hot spot. Another pleasant little secret place. He felt her cloth covered belly lurch against his own. Bright little noises burst from her throat. He seemed to try muffling herself by pressing her mouth onto his throat, but there were no kisses. He hadn''t expected any. Still, he liked the feeling of her soft lips. There was no hint of affection, but she still touched his passions. A teasing touch between the labia, a light set of movements against the sleepy little clitoris. It should be awake soon. He felt her lips purse. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers digging a bit. She was clearly not trying to massage him, but as he did with her lips, he enjoyed the feeling. Up into the moist little tunnel, a finger of his crept and slipped. He knew he was silently calling for more of that wetness, while Rahela was turning less and less silent. Squeaking and whining, even panting at times. Darling little thing! In little time, she had him alert and ready. His fingers withdrew. His heart quickened as he tugged and dragged her clothes, getting her nude aside from her stockings. He wanted to see her savory hair bouncing and hanging around her body, even if the candlelight might not have been adequate. His imagination filled in the remainder of the holes. Rahela''s fragile hands moved to some lacing in his own clothing, but he gently pried those hands away and kissed them. Then he personally wrapped her legs about himself and held her for a moment, grinding his hips, pressing his manhood against his clothes and her body. Each movement had both of them grunting. When he felt the side of one of her feet digging into his thigh, he had to hold a laugh away. Some more time was happily passed on in this rousing way. Then there was something almost painful in his groin, and he knew he needed to go on with the whole point of the moment. He forced his braies down and his tunic up. The target was obvious, and with the bed''s covers tight in some of his fingers, some of the woman''s hip in his other set of fingers, he knelt a bit and sunk in. They both groaned at that, although Rahela had more gurgling in her throat. He saw her hair jostle with her head, which had almost predictably tilted backwards. Slick motions, slapping, feeling the grooves and ripples inside. It was still a thrilling time. It didn''t matter if his legs could turn numb but prickly once it was all over. He loved the tightening in his heavy testicles. He loved the sweat and mucus dribbling and dropping. He loved the hot puffs of breath shared between them. He even loved when Rahela put her fingernails on his skin to scratch at him. There was nothing else in the world except perhaps darkness and light. All he knew was this place of pleasures. The spasming tightness, over and over. Then faster and faster. He yelled praises and curses. She screamed and begged for an end. He didn''t interpret that to mean stopping. He only pushed so hard that some of the pillows bounced. Only when his Little Empress was screeching and pressing on his cock like a madwoman did he let his mind disappear. Let his body thrash with no thought. Let the seed be sown. His throat burned when he was finally rolling over.
When the Emperor entered his carriage to leave the capital, Rahela saw his gloved fingers flexing and folding with one of her hair ribbons practically tangled. It was a silken one, black with pale pink stripes. She''d worn it because he''d once told her it was pretty. Now one of her plaits was a blended mess and all the people in the general area could see it, not that there was any way to hide it. Once again, the Emperor had boldly and blatantly taken her plait before everyone''s eyes and forced her ribbon away. Rahela saw his breath in the air too, and the way the dead grass crunched beneath his fur-lined shoes. She also saw how his brown eyes were tense and more chilled than the air around them, as if he didn''t want to go. Didn''t want to go? Rahela''s lips jolted only for a second. Her eyes slid down. She wondered about those unusually caring words the man had given her not long ago. Either they''d been a complete lie or he''d been so infatuated with her beauty that he''d been temporarily confused. Regardless, Rahela didn''t trust them, even now that her husband was showing some peculiar reluctance to leave. This thorny knot might''ve been part of the defensive plot, feigning a true love with his wife, but Rahela couldn''t find anything to gain from it. The opposite would be best. Feign hatred. Yet, he''d already done that once. It might not be fruitful a second time. As everyone very slowly fled the cold to the castle''s comforting interior, Rahela heard her little sister whisper, "I pray my husband won''t be so flagrant with me." Rahela hushed her with a light tap on her shoulder, but then she murmured down to her, "As long as I have the power, I''ll find a suitable husband for you." Once Rahela was safe and warm in her bedchamber, dear Gabi helping her comb her hair into something proper, she said to the still heavily monitored and pouting Oksana, "His Majesty has left. Do you have any comment?" That lady-in-waiting, the one that many looked at with cruel eyes, she was sitting on her pallet on the floor, kept near Rahela''s bed so that she could be better held. She sat on her haunches and hugged her knees, her gown''s hem only just touching her blanket. She put her cheek on her arms and knees, keeping her face away. Rahela didn''t even shrug. Gabi picked out a different set of ribbons and said to her, "Oh Sister, won''t you forgive that one?" Taking the ribbons and starting to weave them into her hair, Rahela said, "It''s not an issue of forgiveness, but I suppose I could have her walk with me again tomorrow." That didn''t mean Oksana would be allowed to sleep near Yana again. She would still be kept close. Gabi called Yana over to ask for some help in picking out a different outfit for Rahela. Soon, it would be time to go for a ride on Ureche, the mule. Yes, it was cold, and Rahela hated the cold, didn''t even want to leave the castle, but she wanted to keep up her time with the creature. Emotional neglect was still a miserable concept. By the time the ride was finished, and Rahela was back inside again, even her female bodyguard was complaining. Rahela knew it would be worse once the snow came. The winters here were practically evil. At that time Rahela would only see Ureche for pleasant grooming and pets, no riding unless necessary. "Are you so tired?" Rahela asked the female bodyguard, who was rolling out her pallet even though there was still daylight. Oksana chose to ignore the bodyguard. The bodyguard asked for the male one to take her place, and she snuggled up under her blanket, hadn''t even removed her shoes.
When the snow came, it was brutal, or it felt that way. Princess Tuya seemed to complain the most, but that might''ve been normal. She was such a sad and frustrated person. Gabi complained too. Rahela tried to comfort her with the finest, most durable furs and best clothing available. She also chose the warmest foods to put in the child''s stomach. Soups with meats and vegetables, thick meat pies, spiced drinks, and the heartiest porridges. Sometimes, even though they weren''t freezing to death, Rahela would hold her little sister close and sing happy spring time songs to her. They were softly sung, no true talent to be heard, but Gabi seemed to enjoy the moments. At times when they were bundled up to near ridiculous levels, Rahela and her group drudged on through the cold to see the beloved mule. Ureche loved treats and nuzzling. She also loved running about her space while the humans cheered her on. Such simple innocence. It had Rahela smiling, even put a bit of hope in her heart, thawing her.r"
