The Duchess' Mother Ch. 04

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4

Neither of us spoke. Only her breathing broke the silence, leaving me with all too much freedom to sit and think. I'd given my own mother--my best friend, the only person in the whole world I loved--the first orgasm of her entire life. Quite an explosive one, at that. Everything from my knees to neck dripped with her release. I didn't know how diligently or for how many years she'd been chasing this moment, but that look of inebriated, glassy-eyed pleasure on Mom's face spoke volumes.

AndIhad put it there.

My head fell to the side. She still lay panting and supine with legs apart, but one hand held the robe together while the other covered her eyes. I shouldn't have been too disappointed; Mom already showed me more than a daughter could ever hope to see. Besides, the image of her writhing and whining would satisfy me for years to come. She might never again hold me in place with ankles locked behind my back, but really, I didn'tneedthat. I just... wanted it.

I wanted it really,reallyfucking badly.

Well, shit. That settled it, right? Tonight had ensured I would never look at another person the way I looked at her. There had always been thoughts--I loved her, found her beautiful, fantasized about things but knew they were impossible. Now I wanted my mother in every way imaginable, beyond mere fantasy. The men lining up to put a ring on my finger and a baby in my womb would never know that they didn't stand a chance. My heart would never be theirs.

An ache rose and fell within me. I'd be alone forever, then. If not physically then certainly emotionally. Certainly romantically, because I somehow let myself fall for a person that could never reciprocate my feelings. Whatever marriage or children or anything else awaited me, my future lacked the one woman I most desired. But the more I lay there thinking, the clearer it became that it was always going to be this way. Tonight hadn't 'ensured' anything.

I'd fallen deeply and hopelessly in love a long, long time ago.

Mom rolled onto her side, eyelids shut and lips still curled into a smile. She looked asleep. I wanted to curl up with her, to drift off with her arms around my waist and her breath on my neck, but I couldn't. I could only watch and dream of a life never to be.

Or, I could do what I did best. Bury it all. Ignore it. Let it gnaw me from the inside out. Better that than constantly wondering whether I had a chance. A bleak and lonely tomorrow awaited just on the other side of sleep either way. Cursing the damned heart that beat within me, I slipped from bed and tiptoed to the door. The happiest night of my life was about to end with me alone in my room, but there'd be no better time than now to start getting used to that.

Glancing back, I whispered, "Good night, Mom."

"You'll not be back too late, I trust?"

I finished buttoning my coat, smoothed it with my hands, then glanced at Hawley. "Afraid I'll not return in time to auction off my virginity?"

He cringed and looked away. "A crass way of putting it. And not entirely accurate, an 'auction' would suggest--"

"I know, Hawley. I'll be gone a few hours at most. Coinpurse?"

Unhooking the cloth satchel from his own belt and tossing it to me, the seneschal said, "Remind me, why do you require funds for a brief walk through the city center?"

"Food."

He raised a brow.

"Fine, fine." I gathered my hair back into a bushy, curly ponytail, replying, "I planned to pass through Dimitrov's Alley."

Hawley exhaled, shook his head. "There may come a day where you regret giving pieces of your dwindling fortune to vagrants and beggars."

"Maybe. I'll let you know."

As the man grumbled, I slipped on my gloves and turned toward the window. We stood in the otherwise-empty throne room beside one of many windows looking out over the city of Old Teufelhof.Mycity, though that hardly felt appropriate. It may have been mine by law, but how could one claim ownership over streets they rarely walked? The poor souls of Dimitrov's Alley had greater claim than myself. They actually lived there, breathed Old Teufelhof's breath while I hid in cold, lonely luxury atop the city's tallest hill.

That's what this trip was for, I supposed. Reminding them that I existed--not just as the rich little girl in the palace, but as a woman intent on serving them as best I could.

I scanned the skyline, eyes narrowed. "Where is this Altar of Perspicacity, again?"

Hawley peered out the window. He pointed to a distant steeple, saying, "There. Outside St. Alia's Cathedral. Your mother can show you the--"

"I'm going without her. Figured she could use a late morning."

"I see. Busy night?"

I remained silent, turning away to hide whatever treachery my expression might pull. Momdiddeserve a late morning, that was no lie. It was also far from the primary reason I'd woken up so early and planned to go alone. I couldn't bear to see her yet. Sleep had been restful, deep, and spotted with welcome dreams, but still my fingers felt wet. Still my heart ached, desperate yet unable--or unwilling--to shed its forbidden wish. If I had any chance of moving past this futile infatuation, we needed a bit of separation. Last night had ingrained more than a few images not soon to be forgotten.

Then there was the other reason. It felt foolish after the week I'd spent hiding in fear, but a part of me was terrified at the thought of facing what we'd done. WhatI'ddone. Rules were broken, wishes ignored, boundaries crossed. I presumed to know better what my mother really wanted, yet at the same time I was pretty sure I'd do it again. The consequences couldn't possibly be worse than listening to her agony.

Though, that remained to be seen. I welcomed what few hours stood between myself and that inevitable conversation. Double-checking my belongings, I said, "She's been stressed lately, that's all."

"Indeed she has." Hawley rubbed the back of his neck. "You wouldn't happen to know what that's all about, would you?"

"She has a lot on her plate. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would. I suppose that when someone handles life with infinite grace, it's surprising to see them undone."

"Should've seen her last night," I mused quietly.

His brow furrowed. "Hm?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else or am I free to go?"

"Nothing else," Hawley said, eyeing me carefully. "Do stay safe, Duchess Elhof. This may be your city, but most still do not know your face. Tread lightly."

Walking backwards to the door, I said, "Worried I'll get shanked by my own subjects?"

"Yes."

"Oh." I stopped, swallowed, pulled my coat tighter and spun to face the door. "I'll be fine. Besides, are we really pretending you haven't already asked Trevelyan to keep an eye on me?"

"Just be careful, Addie."

I grinned back at him. "Since you asked so kindly..."

With that, the seneschal offered a final wave and returned his attention to the scroll unfurled in his hands. I knocked on the door to signal the sentries. A second later, the massive wooden slabs creaked and groaned, opening only enough to let me squeeze through. Dawnlight warmed my blood while crisp autumn wind chilled my skin. A few groundskeepers tended withering shrubs and flower beds surrounding the palace's main courtyard, but the air was quiet. Old Teufelhof hadn't woken, yet. Soon enough, the city's hustle and bustle would be audible even here.

Not loud, mind. The palace was built high enough to ignore such things.

I'd barely passed through the front gate when I found myself waylaid once more, however. Another elderly man stood at the edge of the motte, gazing down at the city sprawling around its central earthwork. He wore a tall black hat and a red frock adorned with black-gold filigree. Both hands gripped a walking stick, which supported the whole of his weight.

"Morning, Father," I said, sidling up beside him.

The Ecclesiarch flinched, then settled into a warm smile. "And a beautiful morning it is, no?"

"Mhmm." I closed both eyes and filled my lungs with fresh air. "You're here at Hawley's request, aren't you?"

"I was told it wasyourrequest, but yes, I am. He mentioned the wards need checking. Did something happen?"

Shrugging, I replied, "Not really, no. My mother is worried, though. Says we can't be too careful with these things."

"On that, we agree." He hobbled a few steps towards the palace before stopping and looking me up and down. "Is this a poor time? I can return if--"

"No, it's fine. Lead the way."

"Will your mother be joining us?" the Ecclesiarch asked.

I shook my head.

"Very well. Let us begin."

Three hours passed at a snail's pace. I followed silently, watching the old man toss all manner of salts and spices across the outer walls. Each came with a little series of prayers--one for undead, one for fey, one for demons, and a final for something he called 'otherworlders'. He whispered them in hushed tones, but by the end I felt rather confident in my ability to have done this entire process myself. It would have lacked a holy touch, maybe, but I was perfectly capable of muttering whilst spilling kitchen supplies.

After circling the entire grounds to wind up back at the front gate, he said a few more words and tapped the wall with his walking stick. "It is done, my Lady."

"That's all?" I asked. "I expected... I don't know. A shimmer or a noise or something, maybe."

"Extravagance is the domain of the haughty. Red-blooded mages might weave a show of lights, but true magic belongs to we White-bloods."

"Right. I admit, the politics of you sorcerers are beyond me."

The Ecclesiarch laughed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "And there is no shame in that! Just remember, no spellbook can replace the Divine."

I nodded absentmindedly.

"And, if I may, Duchess? I've never known your mother to show fear. What has caused Lady Abigail such concern?"

A scalding sensation suddenly crept over my breast. Frowning, I rooted around in my coat pocket until fingers grasped paper--the letter. I couldn't recall seeing it after yesterday morning, let alone picking it up and bringing it with me. "This..."

He stepped closer. "May I?"

I blinked, wet my lips, dried sweating palms on my coat before reluctantly handing it over.

Frail fingers clung to it lightly, weary eyes darting up and down the single page. His face twisted with distaste until finally the Ecclesiarch lowered his hands and mumbled a prayer. He said, "This is the seal of Asmodeus."

"Who?"

"Archdevil of Lust," the old man sighed.

"O-oh."

"Indeed." He held the letter to his nose and inhaled deeply. "This came from the Hells, that much is clear. That would suggest the seal is no forgery. But, this is not Asmodeus' handwriting."

"You know the Archdevil of Lust's handwriting?"

A wistful smile brightened the Ecclesiarch's sallow features. "I served as an advocate in my youth. Demonology was not my area of expertise, but I did understudy Lord Byring Sun, who specialized in infernal contract law. Half the books in that man's library contained written samples of Asmodeus' dealings. In fact, he once told me that-- ah, I'm getting carried away. But yes, I do."

"Okay," I said warily.

"Do not fret yet, my Lady. It came from the Great Betrayer's court, but from whom? It could be anyone from prank-playing imps to a true devil intent on dragging you down to stand trial."

"I-- What? You don't mean... Hold on, is a fucking devil suing me?"

The Ecclesiarch read it again, lips pursed. "We shall see, I suppose."

Were it not for my total bafflement, I probably would have been petrified. I asked, "Would I win?"

"Against the imps, probably." He paused, then gave me an apologetic look and handed the letter back. "Unfortunately, devilry is most often defeated by greater devilry. Were your opposition something greater--one of Hell's lieutenants, for example--then I daresay you would need the council of the Archdevil himself."

My mouth hung open.

The man gave my shoulder another pat, saying, "That is unlikely to be the case, Duchess. To ease your mind, however, I will ensure your wards protect against Hellspawn, too. Devils are not known for trespassing, but as your mother said--"

"Can't be too careful," I interjected. "Yeah."

"You are eager to be off, I know. This will be quick."

I gestured for him to go ahead.

To my horror, the Ecclesiarch moved even slower this time. I assumed it exhaustion from the first lap, but this ritual was different from the others. Before, he'd seemed downright careless with his reagents. A sprig of sage here, a pinch of salt there. Now he counted sage by the leaf and salt by the godsdamned grain. His earlier prayers had been mumbled and faint, yet now were spoken with carefully enunciated authority.

After another dreadfully long walk around the grounds, we arrived back at the front gate. I leaned against the wall to rest my aching legs. The sun already hung high overhead.

"Nine-thousand six-hundred thirty-one, nine-thousand six-hundred thirty-two..." He paused to shake out his hands and wipe the sweat from his brow. "A-a-a-and, nine-thousand six-hundred thirty-two-and-a-half. There, all--"

A force like a donkey's kick struck my back and laid me out face-down in the dirt, awakening forgotten pains that radiated out from my re-bloodied nose. I rolled to my back to find the old man staring down and looking quite embarrassed.

"Apologies, Duchess! Abjuration is an art, you see, not a science. Let me, ah... Hmph. Perhaps I miscounted."

Massaging my back, I wordlessly clambered to my feet.

"No, no, I am quite sure I counted correctly," he said. He leaned forward, cautiously resting a palm on the exact spot that had ejected me. Nothing happened. "You wouldn't happen to be a devil, would you?"

"Do I look like one?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Besides having hair red as hellfire, no, I suppose not. No matter. Like I said, it's an art. Grab my staff."

"Pardon?"

He angled his walking stick toward me. "Hold it."

I wrapped my fingers around the gnarled wooden staff. The Ecclesiarch reached into one of his pouches, withdrawing a handful of rosemary and sprinkling it over my head. He whispered a few more words, then nodded. I shook the herbs from my hair. "What in the Hells was that for?"

"An exclusionary blessing. Go on, try it."

Fully expecting to end up sprawled on the dirt a second time, I poked the wall with a single finger. I remained mercifully standing.

"There" he said. "No non-human may enter the palace, save it be by your invitation. May that grant you and your mother peace."

And that was that. The letter still burned in my grasp. It's short, ominous message repeated itself in my head--'See you soon, Duchess.' No, I'd a feeling that that wasnotthat, and that this ordeal was anything but concluded. Nothing to do but wait and see, though. I couldn't very well waltz into Hell and demand to know which devil had it in for me. Stowing the paper in my pocket, I said, "Thank you for your time."

"Of course, my dear. My time is yours to spend."

I couldn't help but smile. So rarely did I leave the palace that it had become hard to believe there were those who didn't detest me. Besides Mom, obviously. Or not so obviously, after last night. My smile died as quickly as it came.

The Ecclesiarch began ambling away, saying, "Do visit the cathedral some time. It has been a long time since I spoke at length with a ruler of Old Teufelhof."

"Another day, maybe. Today's--" A loud, creaking groan gave me pause. Behind me, the palace gates were reopening. My heart dropped.

"Is that-- It is! Morning, Lady Abigail!" The old man exclaimed over his shoulder. He looked at the sky. "Afternoon, rather. A pleasure to see you."

"And you as well, Father," my mother said, flashing me a subtle grin as she stepped outside. She was dressed like me, trading a courtly gown for a coat, long pants and knee-high travel boots, with her hair done back in a loose braid. "My daughter showed you around, I presume?"

He limped over to shake her hand. "Indeed. No foul creatures will be trespassing here any time soon."

"Are you sure? I could have sworn I saw Lord Creighton on my way here."

"Ha! Sharp of tongue, as always." Poking my stomach with his staff, he added, "I'd just invited Adrienne to stop by. You should join her; the choir could use a good mezzo."

Mom hid it well, but something forlorn poked through her sunny expression. "If I ever sing again, you'll be the first to know."

"I do hope so. But for now, farewell. To you too, Duchess." He waved, then began his slow, loping trek back down to the city.

It took minutes for the Ecclesiarch to vanish from sight. Only then did Mom breathe a sigh of relief, loosen the scarf around her neck and wipe the corners of her eyes with gloved hands. She looked antsy to speak but remained strangely quiet.

"I, uh, didn't know you sang," I said.

She hummed quietly.

"Was that before I was born?"

"Mhmm."

I waited for more. She left me wanting, but this time I wouldn't cave and break the silence so easily.

She pursed her lips. "Do you want to talk?"

"Uh, sure," I lied.

"Okay."

A few seconds passed. I crossed my arms. "About?"

"Last night," Mom said softly. "It was..."

"I went too far."

"No." She shook her head, reached out to touch my hand but stopped short and drew it back. "You didn't, Addie. You went exactly as far as you needed to--asIneeded you to. You were perfect."

Damn this woman. Damn this sweet, loving woman for giving me every reason to feel things I shouldn't. Avoiding her eyes, I shrugged.

She added, "I mean it. Truly."

"I thought... I mean, I guess I thought you'd be more upset. I ignored your rules, I broke your boundaries, I--"

"Made me feel alive," Mom interjected. "Look, I can't say for certain that you did the right thing. Icansay I'm glad you did it. Sometimes I let my head get in the way. I know that. Luckily, I've a daughter who often knows me better than I know myself."

I inhaled through my nose. "I feel the same way about you."

"And that's okay, right?" My mother phrased it as though the answer was obvious despite the doubt it in her tone. "That's what we do. We're simply... filling some gaps in each other's lives. There's nothing wrong with that."

Wasn't there? After disobeying her instructions, assuming I knew better and shattering nearly every barrier that should exist between mother and daughter, she had only kind words to offer? The pit growing within me deepened. Everything would be a million times easier if Mom had simply scolded me the second we finished, sent me to my room with a firm order never to speak of what happened. It'd snuff out my tiny flicker of hope and make it abundantly clear nothing would ever transpire between us again. But she didn't. She simply reminded me why I cherished her as much as I did. Instead of extinguishing my foolish flame, Mom wasfuelingit.

"Addie?"

I glanced at her. "Hm?"

"You seem bothered," she said. "Something wrong?"

So many things, but I shook my head.

She circled me, tutting softly. "When will you learn?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know when you're lying, Adrienne."

My hands fidgeted. Surely she didn'talwaysknow, right? Of course not. Mom wasn't a mind-reader. She just had good--

"Mother's intuition," Mom added playfully, tapping her temple.

Oh. Shit, maybe she was. Maybe she-- No, no letting my stress run rampant. I said, "How are you acting so casually? I barely have any fucking clue what happened last night but you're standing here talking like it was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing."

"Then what was it?"