In the Gardens of Asherat

~DISCLAIMER~ I don't own any of this.

The light from hundreds of candles cast a glow in the vast anteroom of Asherat's temple. They warmed the polished marble floors as our skirts whispered our passage. I avoided looking at the vast ancient effigy of Asherat of the Sea, though I felt no enmity there. In truth, I had served the goddess well, cleansing her temple of blasphemers and conspirators. Well and so, she had granted her protection to Melisande, and to me as well. I'd prayed for her to spare my life when I tumbled from the cliffs of La Dolorosa, nearly drowning in the seas below. I had been Melisande's prisoner there; I did not forget.
We walked arm in arm, Melisande and I, and I found that what I felt was contentment, Elua help me. What had passed between us, I dared not think of yet. I am ashamed to say, I gave myself over wholly to this encounter, to an anguisette's desires. I shivered, glad for her warmth and tried to restore some semblence of grace, calling upon my training in the Night Court, and walking with my head high, ignoring the pain. I ached in a few interesting places, and my gown rubbed agonizingly against the marks left from the flechettes. I must admit, the discomfort kept me in quite a state of arousement, knowing Melisande had plans for me yet. I tried to breathe evenly, and stole a glance at Melisande from the corner of my eye. Shadows played across her flawless brow. She met my gaze coolly as we came to a stop at a set of huge carved doors.

"There is a chirurgeon in attendance." she said quietly. I shook my head, smiling unthinkingly and spreading my hands.

"It is not necessary, my lady." I whispered. She paused, her gaze turning flinty; an impassive Queen standing over me in the darkness.

"This night is not over, Phedre." she stated coldly.

I sank to my knees, mortified. "My lady!"

Melisande pinned me there with her sapphire gaze, displeasure fading to a more thoughtful aspect.

"Nevermind; Phedre, get up." I rose in one fluid motion, obedient, and stood quietly before her, heart pounding wildly. She turned and pulled a silken cord, then beckoned me closer with a graceful gesture. I drew in a shaky breath as Melisande took my face gently in her hands, brushing the tears that had started from my eyes.

"Phedre, Phedre..." she murmured, and I was drowning in her allure, devastated by her nearness, her scent, her immaculate beauty. The candlelight caught in the blue black waves of her hair as she bent her head and kissed me. The shock of it pierced me to the marrow. Her lips, her tongue seeking mine. I quivered, pliant under her cool touch, and she pulled me closer still, my hands creeping up of their own accord to grasp her shoulders, molding myself to her form. The heat between us was a living thing, and the red haze that obscured my vision spread to encompass the space between us. I heard the sound of bronze wings buffeting the air; it took me a full moment to realize that it was actually the sound of the great carved doors creaking open in front of us.
Melisande straightened her back, pulling me around in a graceful movement akin to a dance I learned long ago in the Night Court. The fabric of my gown rubbed painfully against my wounds, I breathlessly tried to regain my composure, moving instinctively as she spun me to face the door again. Warm lamplight spilled over us and into the hallway, causing her flawless skin to glow like cream against the deep blue of her gown. A shy attendant holding a salver with two glasses of cordial appeared, silhouetted by the light pouring from within. Melisande took the two glasses, inclining her head gracefully to the flaxen haired lass, who bobbed a curtsey and turned, headed with alacrity back inside towards the suite, her steps hurried. Melisande handed me one of delicately wrought glasses, and I accepted it gratefully. Her glorious eyes were the color of the midnight sky as she gauged my condition. After a moment, she seemed satisfied, and that air of amusement returned.

"Joy, Phedre." I met her gaze, Elua, what awaited me behind that cutting smile?

"Joy, my lady." I replied, and drank deep, the fiery liquid burning a clean path to my belly. I gasped with pleasure, remembering another night, the Longest Night, when Melisande first set her diamond around my throat. My hand stole to my neck again, grasping the place where it had hung, and Melisande watched me, her eyes glittering in the darkness. She took the glass from my hand without a word, and placed them carefully on the salver the maid had left on a low table.

"Come." she said simply, no tone of command in her voice, and the large door closed behind us as we entered her private suite.

True, Asherat had granted sanctuary to Melisande, and though she was deemed a traitor in the eyes of D'Angeline law, she still remained the widow of Prince Benedicte de la Courcel, the Principessa Melisande Shahrizai de la Courcel, and a mother bereft. We came to an expansive sitting room with a small group of couches arranged in front of a pleasantly crackling fireplace. Her rooms were lavishly appointed, as befitting her status; outfitted with elegant D'Angeline niceties, flowers in surprising alcoves, and richly textured fabrics and carpets strewn about the floor. A pallid servant girl dressed in a robe of sheer white stood in attendence, eyes downcast, awaiting the Principessa's leisure. Her hair was a lovely shade of auburn, flowing loosely down her back, red glinting in the firelight. A long table to the side of the room was laden with an array of refreshments on silver platters. I have always had a fondness for seafood, and somehow, I think Melisande had discerned this, though I know not how. There were oysters in their shells with a wine and butter sauce I must beg Eugenie to recreate. A cleverly arranged tray of shrimp and lobsters and oysters, the shells all ingeniously cracked for ease of their removal. Wine flowed freely and we dined at an intimate table out on the adjoining balcony, tiny white lanterns strung all around. The crash of the sea was inexorable as the cruelty in her eyes, and the salt air stirred the blue black wealth of Melisande's hair as she regarded me over her wine glass.

"And what of your Tsingano friend?" she asked me curiously, "How does he find his freedom?" I dabbed the corner of my mouth with my napkin, and took a sip of wine, hoping that she would not discern the true purpose for my hesitation. I met her gaze, and blushed furiously, for she had gauged it to a nicety, and looked amused at my recalcitrance.

"Phedre," she pinned me with her gaze, "do you think I seek his power?" I remembered the dry sound of a grasshopper chirruping, and shuddered to my soul.

"No, my lady." I murmured, "Hyacinthe and the lady Sibeal have gone to Alba." Her gaze did not leave my face. She nodded as if I had said somewhat more.

"It will be their line that rules there, mayhap." Melisande said thoughtfully. I shivered, unable to look away, struggling to formulate a reply. Oh, Hyacinthe! She ignored my efforts and continued;

"Twas your bravery and selflessness that freed him. And my son." Her son. Imriel. My heart swelled upsurdly, and my cheeks heated again, a flush of pleasure. "I haven't forgotten." she spoke quietly, her glorious eyes grave, for once, no artifice, or menace in her tone. It gave me a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. My hand shook, and the wine sloshed in my goblet. I set it down hastily, and wiped my hands nervously on my lap.

"My lady," I whispered, clutching at the white linen "Twas Kushiel's hand that guided me thus, and Elua's mercy and Cassiel's strength that led us out of darkness." Melisande smiled, her lips curving in a scarlet bow as she regarded me. It set my heart to pounding again, the pulse betwixt my thighs. Her face alive and glimmering with intelligence.

"And do you not give Naamah her due?" her voice honey-sweet, the menacing softness raised the hairs on my neck, and I shivered all over with gooseflesh. I could swear I caught the scent of Attar of Roses mixed with the salt tang of the sea. "She must be displeased to be so forgotten."

"No, my lady." I whispered. "I am as much Naamah's as Kushiel's." I could not move away as Melisande's long tapered fingers tangled into my hair. I shut my teeth on a moan, and slid to my knees at her side, neck wrenched at an unnatural angle as she leaned in close to my ear.

"No, my sweet," Melisande Shahrizai whispered, her breath coming hot against my neck, "you belong to one alone." I did moan then, with desire and fear and longing, my heart beating like a frightened dove's. My breath came in hot flashes as she gathered up my skirts with her other hand, those long fingers parting me again, effortlessly, finding the pearl of Naamah and slipping further. I cried out as they moved within me, searching, her other hand still twined cruelly in my hair, her mouth closed the remaining distance and she sucked, then bit my neck, right where it meets the shoulder. I climaxed in a red haze, shuddering around her fingers, her tongue laving the area she had just bitten. I wondered if she'd drawn blood, I did not think so. "Mmm, that was nice." Her fingers still within me, she loosened her grip on my hair and softly traced the line of my cheek. I shuddered with the aftermath of pleasure, and finally she withdrew, smiling. The loss of her touch hit me like a void, and I had to fight toppling forward into her. I took a deep shuddering breath and met her gaze, amused and tender and cruel. She took my face in her hands, her cool touch burning as she lowered her head and kissed me again. I swayed under her hands, her lips and tongue as skillful as any adept's, I could feel her warmth through the midnight velvet of her gown. I gasped aloud as we broke apart, one word, only.

"Please." I begged with my eyes, leaning forward to touch her skirts, and my fingers grazed her hem before her hand fisted in my hair once more. Desire took me like a fist to the gut. The scope of my vision narrowed to her face, sapphire eyes grown cold.

"I did not give you permission." She shook me by the hair once, surprisingly strong, and I made a strangled sound in my throat. "You presume too much." Melisande smiled then, her generous lips curving wickedly. My lips moved soundlessly, pleading forgiveness, I could not seem to breathe, and there was a buzzing in my ears. She shook me again. "Be still." I subsided, quivering all over. Melisande pulled a silken cord hanging unobtrusively to her side, and almost immediately the auburn haired servant appeared in the doorway, curtseying. "My attendants will make you ready. The preparations have already been made." Without another word, she released my hair and stood, sweeping inside and disappearing. The pallid maid waited, expressionless, as I rose in the graceful motion bred into me by the Night Court, and crossed the small space to her side. Without a word, she turned and I followed obediently, shivering, and wondering what sort of punishments Melisande had devised.


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Thanks for all the reviews, sorry it's been so long since an update. (Computer probs, and life is crazy!) I love these books, and can't wait for the next trilogy installment. Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks!!