Knight to the Silver Throne

Chapter 9: Bow Down

Behind the door was a hallway with an incredible high ceiling. Light came in from enormous colored glasses on the side that depicted gorgeous and somewhat whimsical seeming pictures. Caprinvur walked in confidently while Feamir was still immersed in the wonder of the beautiful architecture. Noticing her guide walking in front, she hastily tried to follow after him. If she looked too much at the details of the art in this place, she would not be able to move even an inch.
While walking behind the goat man, she had at least a bit time to goggle over the interior. Even though she never visited the royal palace, Feamir felt like even a mortal king would never be able to show of luxuries.

At some point they reached a second portal, made of dark wood that contrasted nicely with the lighter colored stone. And of course, it was engraved luxuriously with vines, flowers, and artistic depictions of weapons.
Waiting next to Caprinvur, Feamir noticed that her companion was suddenly looking more rigid, standing more upright and he even tried to straighten his clothes. He gave her one last gaze, in which Feamir thought laid a warning. But she was not sure what he meant, and she was not able to openly ask as at that moment the doors opened by themselves again.

Behind these doors now was a throne room, there was no other way to describe it as anything else. And again, it was definitely one a king would envy and not something you may be expecting from a "mere" duke.

The most dominant thing in the room was the throne that was seemingly completely made out of sparkling silver that it nearly seemed glowing and not to forget the person sitting on it. It was Duke Tirghernán, the same white-haired man with the black horns and the hypnotic blue eyes she knew from the fest the evening before.
The wall behind him was decorated with a big, seemingly important symbol. That symbol was silver with golden and black smaller details. I noticed this symbol earlier in some of the decorations, but now it was depicted especially prominent.

Caprinvur was moving slowly closer to the throne that was slightly higher than the ground, and then he bend his body to a very formal bow. Feamir decided to follow him, even though she was not sure how to bow with her current body. So, she ended up bending her deer legs very awkwardly to get into a position that could at least be considered as a bow.

"Greetings, your grace. I brought Feamir as you asked.", started the satyr talking, still bowing and looking at the floor. He had to wait for his answer until Tirghernán finally absolved him from continuing to bow. Feamir did not know what signal made it appropriate to get up, but her gut feelings told her to keep her uncomfortable posture even as Caprinvur stumbled to the side of the duke.

"I figured you would have questions?", the duke sounded lazy but somehow still cold. It took Feamir a moment before she ordered her thoughts enough. "Yes... your grace... but most of all: I want my body back!", with a look of defiance she looked up and Tirghernán directly in the face. A slight smile seemed to linger around his lips, but the look in his eyes was incredibly cold. Caprinvur now stood on his right side and seemed incredibly nervous.

Suddenly a strong force pulled Feamir's body downwards. There was not any time to fight against it and now she was nearly lying down, struggling to even look up again. The duke's cold gaze was now also very condescending, but he also seemed to have fun seeing her struggle.

"Oh? Have you actually forgotten to dare to ask me for that already?", he was putting his hand to his chin as if he was thinking, "But then again it is completely natural for a mortal after being as drunk with fæ wine as you were. However, it is still very troublesome. We had such an interesting conversation after all." Somehow him talking gave Feamir goosebumps, she felt like she should not admit to not remembering at all or otherwise Tirghernán would haver her in his hand. So, she chose to say nothing in this situation, neither denying nor confirming anything.

Feamir was not expecting that the duke would suddenly stand in front of her. Looking up now was even harder. He grabbed her chin as to force her to look into his face or as to closer examine hers, and it forced her to assume a straighter posture. Examining Tirghernán's blue eyes again, they still were very beautiful and sucked her into their depths. But looking at them made Feamir not as lightheaded as yesterday anymore. She found that an odd discovery.

"Anyway, I think you actually forgot the most important part of yesterday's discussions.", when the Silver Duke let go of her chin, Feamir suddenly found herself in a completely different environment. It seemed like they were suddenly on a clearing in a very lush forest. All around were rampant growing plants and flowers. They grew and changed so quickly that it was visible to the naked eye. And on the middle of that clearing was hanging on a stone wall: her body!
Most of the body was covered by sky blue lilacs and it seemed unconscious, but that body was definitely hers!

Feamir wanted to rush to that place, but she found that she could not move. Except for her eyes nothing in this body was following her commands anymore. Hence, she was forced to helplessly look as Tirghernán slowly walked up to her original body. He then started stroking the cheek of "her" unconscious face. What scared Feamir who up until now tried to resist and rebel was that she felt it. She felt his touch. It was just a careful touch, maybe like lovers do, but that could not be further from the truth. It did not feel good, and it was incredibly scary. Feamir could not do anything right now. And the duke seemed to have noticed her reaction, being very pleased.

"You are mine now, my sweet little Feamir.", as he said that he stroked over the neck of Feamirs original body. She got the message. If he wanted, he could just end her and he warned her to behave herself.

"I-i-I understand, your grace. I-I am sorry for my previous attitude.", even though Feamir tended to try to rebel against authority, she knew how to keep a low profile if necessary. For now she would bow and be servile, but only until she had a better plan.