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Becca is enjoyed in a restaurant, Albert traps Allison.

ly as a groan, "must you act like an eager little slut?"

Something about that upset him and he made a noise of denial behind clenched teeth.

"I'm not a Consort," he hissed.

"Frankly, that's a good thing right now."

I tightened my hold though I left his hands free, his palms pressed to the mattress-he could still blind me like the time Wilsira caught up wrestling, if he so chose. He hadn't yet. I kept moving my hand beneath and he let me do it, his breath shaking as I stroked him.

"The queen would make me so..." he whispered.

I lowered my mouth and my voice. "I remember. What is it about you that She likes? I noticed."

"My heritage. The headmaster used to service her. I look like him."

"He told you that?"

"No, She did. She liked my youth. I think She wants to groom a replacement for the Tower."

I nibbled on his skin and kept teasing him to keep up the charade-well, the foreplay, honestly-and thought about this revelation. "Does She call you often?"

He shook his head as if he was mostly struggling against me. "Only once so far. She 'sampled' me the first time I testified on behalf of the Sisters. She's more terrifying than any of you."

"And She's looking at you again."

He buried his face to muffle whatever response he had that, but I could actually feel his erection softening a little at the thought of being bedded by the queen again. I couldn't blame him.

"Has She altered you, that you know of?"

He shook his head again. "She wouldn't spoil a 'virgin' that fast, She said."

It crossed my mind then that Phaelous could be watching D'Shea and her offspring on the queen's behalf... And just how had D'Shea become pregnant at four hundred anyway? She was more than smart enough to know by then... But I did not have the time to explore those ideas now, and it may not matter for me soon enough.

Meanwhile, Shyntre had softened far too much.

"I have not thanked you," I whispered, "for acting to help me. I admit I do not see why you would."

He went still and successfully, willingly distracted himself from his thoughts of the Valsharess. I lifted myself up and rolled him over, straddling his naked body while still fully clothed. I leaned to kiss him, playing with his nipples, and slowly ground my crotch along his sex, which slowly became much more turgid.

"I believed the Consort," he whispered back, both of us working to hide our conversation within our coupling. "He said we could not fail."

"Why?"

"He didn't tell me what he saw."

"This time. What did he tell you in the garden?"

"Fuck," he hissed, and began struggling heavily again.

We wrestled for a good long time, enough for him-through sheer stubbornness-to coax off my shirt and free my breasts, the now-inert sapphire hanging between them. He stoked my fires higher as I enjoyed the eye-rolling sensation of what he next did to my nipples.

Eventually, however...

"What...did he tell you?" I asked.

"Said I'd have to pick between the Sisters and the Priestesses," he whispered. "I did."

"That's not all."

"Wasn't meant for you."

We kept struggling, keeping our mouths close and voices quiet amid the grunting. Eventually we began working on pulling down my pants, thought I made it as difficult for him as possible. For example, I made no move to take off my boots.

"What do you call him?" I asked. "He has a score of names."

The determined expression on Shyntre's face relaxed in surprise for just a fraction of a moment before he firmed up his jaw. He had his teeth gritted and didn't move his lips much. "'Consort.' What else?"

I leaned in, mostly on top of him with my pants just barely beneath my ass cheeks now, and pressed my mouth to his ear. "Auslan."

Shyntre's hand paused in between us, currently down my pants and gripping my mound, then he forcefully thrust two fingers into me. I groaned in pleasure. My sex was sopping.

"Why name him?"

"Met him in my wilderness trial, on the outskirts of D'Verin land," I said.

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