Shooting Fusion

Chapter 2 - Gravity Pulls

She entered the huge tent with her entourage in tow. The tent is spacious but the furnishing is sparse. Not what she is accustomed to but it will do. A large, clean featherbed occupied most of the room. Next to it lay a small dresser with a mirror on top. 

Her ladies-in-waiting immediately approached her the moment she raised both of her hands. It was her usual signal for them to undress her. They dutifully went about their task. One of them lowered the hood of her cloak. They then began carefully removing her golden tiara of doves before painstakingly tugging all the clips that held her locks. Her hair fell in glorious curls of golden brown, framing her face beautifully. Next, they unbuttoned her cloak, sliding back the hood and removing the cloak completely. They then helped her out of her gown. She is now almost naked sans the thin blue shift covering her body.

Her damas were about to slip the thin material covering her body when she grabbed the wrist of her most senior servant.

"Not this evening. You have my permission to leave." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

The women shared a surprised look but that look was fleeting. They curtseyed deeply, their arms across their chests.

"Avisala Meiste, La Hara"

"Remind my men outside to guard this tent with their lives or heads will roll in the morrow"

"Yes, Your Highness"

The ladies-in-waiting made their way out. The deafening silence filled the tent.

She lives for the evenings. It affords her the time and quiet that the whole day couldn't bring. Ruling the whole land takes most of her time and is oftentimes taxing to her energy. She revels in being alone and reminiscing her bright and dark past; the happy and painful memories she savors and holds close to her heart. The people she values the most are gone. Lireo does not feel like home anymore. It is a broken bough now.

"Will you sleep with that thing on?" A voice woke her from her reverie. She stilled. The fingers of one hand clutching the side of her shift.

"Your insolence will be the death of you"

"It was a question of curiosity"

"that you have dared to ask" a slight frown forming on her head.

"No one asks you a question?"

"No one of your stature dares to question my ways", Amihan's frown deepened.

"Forgive me, Your Highness" Althea spat bitingly, "I used to be free until you came along and took that freedom against my will"

"I had to. They will use and abuse you." Amihan raised her voice in annoyance as she turned to face Althea.

"And this is your way of showing concern? by turning me into your slave?"

She closed her fist in anger. This woman is too much. She can feel the blood rushing through her veins and her face warming up. What is it with this woman? Must she provoke her so? Doesn't she realize that she is not in the position to anger an Empress? Her rude behavior can get her executed. One word from Amihan and she will be journeying to Devas.

She strode rapidly towards her, stopping just short of bumping into Althea. Her hands reaching up to grab the slave's wrist, holding her in a vise like grip. They both stared at Amihan's hand on Althea's wrist. Althea stared because her fingers started tingling and it didn't make any sense. This powerful woman is displaying her dominance over her and her body responds in an unusual way. She is acutely aware of her grip. She is also very aware of her scent and of the soft swell of her breast pressing against her side. She began feeling uncomfortably warm. Her throat suddenly feeling parched and she feels the need to bolt to get some fresh air.