As the twenty-eighth day of the second month of summer approached, Luvenia became increasingly anxious. She tried not to show it when she was with Gorogon; she could plainly see that he was barely holding together himself.
They reached their limit at almost the same moment on the twenty-fifth. A particularly thorny issue with the bordering kingdom of Vedevi had kept them arguing for most of the previous afternoon, and they still had not come to an agreement by midmorning.
"You're missing the entire point of having a tariff!"
"It loses its point if the imposed restriction chokes off commerce between the two kingdoms."
"The issue is the threat to the domestic trade. If our weavers are constantly undersold by Vedevi's merchants, our industry will dry up!"
"It's not just the price that's different—it's the relative quality of our products to theirs. If their cloth is better, we need to harness this opportunity to encourage competition and innovation."
"We can't afford to antagonize the guilds!"
"We mustn't allow the guilds alone to dictate our policies."
"Stop–!" Gorogon put up one hand, the other pressed to his forehead. "Can we just– Could we discuss this later?"
"We were supposed to have settled this yesterday."
"But we shouldn't rush this! If we push ahead without considering the consequences–"
"We've considered them up, down, and sideways. What more is there to do but render a decision?"
When Gorogon failed to respond, Luvenia took a moment to look him over. His face was ashen, his eyes unfocused, his brow beaded with sweat.
"Perhaps we should take a break."
"Hmm?"
"A break." She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed the sweat from his forehead. "We could both use some air. Why don't we take a walk?"
"A walk...?"
Luvenia rose and tugged on Gorogon's arm until he stood up as well.
"Come along, darling."
~~~
By the time they reached the garden, Gorogon had more color in his cheeks and less of a glazed look in his eyes.
"Thank you, my dear." He draped his arm casually over her shoulders. "You were absolutely right: we needed a break."
She leaned against him as they walked. "We did, but I also thought we might need to talk about what you're REALLY worried about."
"...Was it that obvious?"
"It was to me. As your wife, it's my duty to be able to read your mind."
"Does that mean I ought to be reading your mind as well?"
"Darling, no man has ever been able to read a woman's mind."
Gorogon laughed, the tension in his brow easing. "Thank the gods. I thought perhaps I was deficient there as well."
Something in his words disturbed Luvenia. "Deficient?"
"I can't... I don't think I can go through with this."
"You mean... the doctor's plan?"
"Yes. I'm nervous. –That's an understatement. I'm terrified."
"Tell me what scares you about it."
"Well... I hurt you before."
"I told you to. This time you'll be gentle."
"I don't know how to please you."
"If you do what the doctor told you to do, it should be enough."
"But... I fear I might not be able to... rouse myself... after that."
"Am I that repulsive?" she teased.
"No," he replied seriously, "but I'm broken."
Luvenia's throat tightened. Firmly gripping Gorogon's arm, she led him with some degree of force to the gazebo. Only once they were safely sheltered by summer foliage did she speak again.
"There's something else troubling you. I thought you'd made peace with... who you are. What's made you feel like this again?"
Gorogon submitted meekly to Luvenia's gentle insistence, reclining in her embrace like a drowsy child. He did seem very tired.
"Let's have it, then."
"I've been thinking about... Caradon."
Luvenia stroked his hair with a gentle hand. "I see. Tell me more."
"I feel guilty." His voice was almost too quiet to hear. "It seems... wrong... that I have someone else in my life now—that I've found comfort in Beau's embrace—when Caradon died loving me. I miss him, but... I'm happy now, and I wonder if I should be grieving." His eyelashes trembled like wings made of golden wires. "Sometimes I see my face in the mirror and think that I ought to look miserable—that I should still be losing sleep, crying every day—but lately all I feel is an ache in my chest when I think of him, and guilt that I don't feel more than that."
"I understand, I think." She ran her fingers across his brow until he unfurrowed it. "Would you mind if I told you something I once heard that helped me with a similar feeling?"
"Not at all, my dear. I'd like to hear it."
Luvenia cast her mind back to a time she only dimly recalled.
"It was after my mother died. I think it was autumn; I seem to remember that cold weather hit suddenly and unexpectedly around then.
"Beau took Mother's death even harder than I did. It took years before I could look back at what happened with any clarity. At the time, it just felt like a half-forgotten nightmare. Beau was the one who cried himself to sleep and woke screaming in the middle of the night.
"I felt sorry for him, and I worried about him, and sometimes I even cried—but not for my mother—not then. My tears were for Beau, because he was in pain, and because I was terrified to lose him.
"We hadn't slept in the same room for years before then, but within a week of Mother's death I was creeping to Beau's bedroom to cuddle with him as soon as my maids went to bed. It was the only way to keep him quiet through the night, and even then he was restless; often he would kick me just as I was starting to fall asleep.
"That went on for a while—me spending every night with him and stealing back just before sunrise—until one day I stood up and the floor and ceiling switched places. They told me later that I collapsed with a raging fever.
"I don't remember much of what happened immediately afterward. I vaguely recall that I heard my mother weeping, so I must have been delirious.
"The first thing I remember after that is the doctor's voice. He said that my mother had done the same thing once—collapsed from exhaustion—and that she would have wanted me to take care of myself.
"I don't think I opened my eyes, because I don't recall the look on his face, but I did ask him if he missed her. He said he did, but that we had to keep living, because that's what she wanted for us—to live our lives and be happy."
Luvenia's fond recollection of that particular doctor was somewhat tainted by the mysterious circumstances of his disappearance, just after a failed assassination attempt on her father. She decided to omit this fact from the story at present.
"That's what Caradon wanted for you—for both of us. He entrusted me to you, and you to me, out of love for you and pity for me. He would be pleased that your heart is healing. Your suffering won't bring him back, but your happiness will honor the memory of his love."
Gorogon caught her hand by the wrist and brought it to his lips.
"You always know just what to say, my dear."
Luvenia felt a funny flutter in her chest when Gorogon kissed her hand.
"I... I think it might be better if I..."
"Hmm?"
"Maybe... I could... take care of myself."
Gorogon looked up at her in thinly-veiled relief. "If you think that would be... mutually beneficial."
"I do. It seems fairer if we... meet in the middle."
Their awkwardness softened into laughter.
"I'll leave you in your own capable hands, my queen."
"Trust me, my king. I know what I'm doing."
***
"I have no idea what I'm doing." Luvenia combed out her damp hair with nervous energy. "I'm aware of the mechanics involved in conception, and I know what the doctor told Gorogon to do, but–"
One of the comb's teeth broke off as she tried to force it through a knot. The tiny sound startled her; she dropped the comb, and jumped again when it hit the floor and snapped in two.
Hanna crossed the distance from the connecting door to the vanity table almost too fast for the eye to follow. "Are you all right?"
"Yes—yes, I just– just scared myself." Luvenia tried to laugh but hiccupped instead. "It's– I'm–"
Strong arms encircled her in a feather-light embrace. She leaned into it gratefully.
"I'm sorry that this is so hard on you, madam."
"I shouldn't complain."
"Why not?"
"Because you've been through so much worse," Luvenia very nearly said, "and I would deal with this a hundred times over if I could undo what's been done to you, but I can't, so every time I whine about my troubles I feel pathetic..." but she couldn't say that, because it would just be more whining, and Hanna would feel obliged to comfort her, and the cycle would continue until she was too ashamed to look Hanna in the eye.
What she said instead was: "Because it's not so bad. It's only... new, and strange, and uncomfortable. I'll grow accustomed to it soon enough."
"Of course you will, my beloved." Hanna's breath tickled the nape of Luvenia's neck. "I just wish I could help you in some way."
An idea, thrilling in every sense of the word, burst from Luvenia's lips without permission:
"Maybe you can."
"What?"
"Oh– I just–" Her face was burning. "I thought you might help me... discover... where I ought to touch. –After all, Dr. Danacy said the most important thing was to experiment–" She knew she was babbling, but better to hurry across the rope bridge than risk pausing to look down at the chasm below. "–and you said you want to help, so..."
Her voice died away as Hanna laid the softest kiss on the back of Luvenia's neck.
"If it would please you, my queen, I will do as you say."
"You don't have to if you don't want to. It's not an order. Even if you agree, you can stop anytime."
She could feel Hanna trembling.
"I want to." Hanna's voice was almost too low to hear. "I would love to touch you... but..."
Luvenia's heart lurched. She braced for whatever Hanna might say. Was it a moral objection? Maybe the request was too forward, too soon...
Her own thoughts were so deafening that she nearly missed what Hanna actually said:
"I can't bear to leave the slightest mark on your fair flesh."
"Oh?" Her fair flesh was turning rosier by the second. "I wouldn't mind... being marked."
Hanna's arms dropped away. Luvenia turned and looked up, then down as Hanna knelt before her.
"No, your majesty." There was fear in Hanna's eyes. "Even a little bruise would mean that I had lost control—and, if I lose control, I might really hurt you."
"I'll tell you if anything hurts."
"Please—my queen, my love, that would be too late."
"Then... I'll tell you when anything feels good. Would that be better?"
"Yes, madam. Let me know how what I do affects you." Her adoring gaze set Luvenia's heart racing. "Keep me here with you in this moment."
It was hard to believe that Hanna had never had a lover before when the things she said were so intimate and romantic.
Luvenia parted the overlap of her dressing-gown with trembling hands. Hanna's eyes flicked downward; her face was very pink under her scars.
"Wh– what if–" Luvenia swallowed nervously. "What if we... kept going with... kissing?"
There was an initial awkwardness as they tried to establish where each of them needed to be in order to continue. Soon, though, Hanna's determination won over her shyness, and her strong hands guided Luvenia into position. Her lips brushed along the queen's collarbone before sweeping lower.
Luvenia shivered. Hanna froze.
"It's good—it's a little strange, but it feels good. Keep going."
She gave a similar reassurance when Hanna's tongue came into play. The unfamiliar sensations, the soft touching of skin that had never known another's touch—it was increasingly difficult to remember to say anything.
As the strength seeped out of her muscles, she started to slide out of her chair. Hanna gathered her up and carried her to the bed, laying her carefully down.
"What should I do now?"
Luvenia's body strained toward Hanna, almost involuntarily, irresistibly.
"Here," she panted, fumbling with the belt of her robe. "Keep going—further down."
Hanna's hands shook as they skimmed over Luvenia's abdomen.
"I– I can't– Not where you've been hurt before." Her eyes shone white. "I don't trust myself."
"Don't use your fingers."
"What?"
"Just like before—with your mouth."
Understanding dawned in Hanna's face. Her shoulders subtly relaxed.
"Yes, your majesty."
Every cautious movement, every glancing touch, every trembling breath—they rippled across her skin, racked her flesh with waves and whirlpools of pleasure as intense as pain and just as hard to endure.
"Is this good?"
Hanna's voice reverberated through nerves already past their limit. Luvenia arched her back, fingers knotting in the bedsheets, and closed her eyes.
For an instant she came untethered from reality, drifting in a void where all sense overwrote itself and was nullified.
Then she opened her eyes and gasped, bracing against an echo of sensation nearly as strong as the source it mirrored.
"Mistress..." A shaking hand smoothed back a lock of damp hair that had clung to her brow. "I'm not... I don't know if... the sound you made was..."
With an effort, Luvenia located her own arms and hands, and even managed to move them a little. Her body felt strange to her, as though it were a garment she was wearing rather than part of her being.
"Wonderful," she wheezed, loosely grasping Hanna's wrist. "I loved it."
Hanna bowed her head and kissed the back of Luvenia's hand. Her eyes were still troubled, her mouth set in a thin anxious line.
"I thought I might have hurt you," she murmured.
"No, my love. It was good." Luvenia found it easier to breathe as her heartbeat slowed from a gallop to a trot. "Overwhelming, yes, but in a lovely way—like when you're helpless with laughter, or when you're so tired that you groan as you lie down and start to relax. It's too much of a good thing."
"You... moved... a lot."
"Did I? I don't think I meant to." She wondered if she would feel embarrassed about this later. For the moment, she felt no shame at all. "My body reacted on its own."
A strange sadness darkened Hanna's face. Luvenia reached up to touch her cheek, wanting to know why but hesitant to ask.
"I can serve you in this way as much as you want, madam."
"Only if you're willing, my love."
"It is my privilege to meet your needs."
Her downcast expression brought Luvenia out of her hazy euphoria with a sharp twinge.
"Oh, Hanna... You only need ask."
Hanna shook her head. "I can't."
"You're not concerned about the difference in our status, are you?"
"Not that, your majesty. Just the difference in our strength."
Inhuman strength coupled with involuntary movement... The issue loomed between them like a wall of glass, invisible but for the way it distorted their view.
"It doesn't matter if you break more furniture."
"Furniture–!" Hanna laughed strangely. "I might break something far more valuable—something that could never be replaced."
Luvenia felt something roll down her cheek and mistook it for a drop of perspiration. Only when Hanna's eyes widened in panic did she realize the truth.
"It's all right." The words were not especially convincing when spoken with such a hoarse voice.
"Madam—my queen–" Hanna's low voice shook. "Please, I– I never meant to– I don't know what to do when you–"
"You haven't done anything wrong." She blinked away the tears and tried to smile. "It's just that... I'm not accustomed to being loved."
Hanna was silent for a long moment.
"It's not right," she said at last.
Luvenia's chest tightened. "What isn't right?"
"You're wonderful." There was no shyness, no hesitance in her words. "Everyone ought to love you."
She looked startled when Luvenia laughed.
"My Hanna..." She stroked Hanna's cheek adoringly. "Every time I think you're about to break my heart... you fill it with love."