fortnight for nine years? Her mother had managed it, once.
A noise from the next chamber broke her flow of thought. Galabril evidently had a guest, and that usually meant Artemi was going to have to listen to them both all night. Wonderful. She pulled the red blanket over her head and wedged an arm over each ear. The sound still seemed to be working its way through. The soldiers of legend were supposed to be able to fight after a month of going without sleep, but Artemi did not think she could stand a second night of it. She cursed and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that would somehow affect the noise. It was no good. She sat up and instead attempted to embrace the noises they were making. Artemi was starting to feel unwell, and the candles about her seemed to be waving in amusement at her predicament. She grabbed one and tried to distract herself with the melted wax, dripping it onto the floor. Another breathy gasp wafted in from the proximate chamber.
She set the candle down in its slowly hardening puddle and knelt in front of it. A strange sense of curiosity swept over her. She had seen lovers writhing atop one another plenty of times in the cellars, but she had never really studied them. She ought not to, really. It was their business, after all. Then again, the sound was in her chamber, and it was not perverse to investigate sounds that invaded her space, surely? She blew out all of her candles, leaned forward slowly, placed her hands on the hard mud floor and began to crawl toward the edge of the ragged curtain. Once there, she lowered her chin to the ground and peered underneath. A black bed roll was immediately visible, its surface pitted with age. The toes of a female foot flexed away on top of it, curling like the tendrils of red ivy. With her eyes, Artemi followed the top of the foot along its parent leg. The knee was too high behind the curtain to be visible. Below where it should have been she could see the lower thighs of a man. His knees dug into the mat beneath as he pressed forwards.
Artemi swallowed. She really should not be doing this. She laid her head on one side and adjusted her angle to gain a better view. She could see his hips now, insisting upon Galabril’s own. They moved against one another with a slight asynchronicity. Galabril’s arms were gently wrapped about her partner. The weight of his upper body rested upon her breasts, forcing them to swell outwards. The woman’s face, and the expression it held, was hidden behind her lover’s. All Artemi could make of his features was a mass of twisted, brown hair. She watched them for what felt like a few more minutes, but was probably another hour. They progressed through two levels as she watched: stopping to breathe through each moment of ecstasy. Finally, their movements were reduced to almost imperceptible displacements. They appeared afraid to stir too far from the position they held. At the last moment Galabril stifled a scream, sending Artemi reeling to the wall of her chamber at the unexpectedness of it.
Taking a deep breath, she resumed her spying posture and observed that they were still lying with legs intertwined, breathing hard. They would not part until their bond was complete. Artemi moved back onto the bedroll and pulled the red blanket over her. Her cheeks felt flushed. She felt enormously guilty at having witnessed their act. She also felt... hot. Artemi put a hand to the top of her thigh. She tested the heat with her fingers and then whipped them away in an instant. She was not going to be a victim of lust. She would not be any idiot’s lover!
Sleep eluded Artemi for a while as she catalogued the things she had seen. When it finally came to enfold her in darkness, she was so exhausted that nothing could have prevented it. A stampede of warhorses hammering through the caverns could not have disturbed her.
The fresh shirt supply was becoming dangerously low. Silar slammed the wardrobe door shut and shrugged into
A noise from the next chamber broke her flow of thought. Galabril evidently had a guest, and that usually meant Artemi was going to have to listen to them both all night. Wonderful. She pulled the red blanket over her head and wedged an arm over each ear. The sound still seemed to be working its way through. The soldiers of legend were supposed to be able to fight after a month of going without sleep, but Artemi did not think she could stand a second night of it. She cursed and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that would somehow affect the noise. It was no good. She sat up and instead attempted to embrace the noises they were making. Artemi was starting to feel unwell, and the candles about her seemed to be waving in amusement at her predicament. She grabbed one and tried to distract herself with the melted wax, dripping it onto the floor. Another breathy gasp wafted in from the proximate chamber.
She set the candle down in its slowly hardening puddle and knelt in front of it. A strange sense of curiosity swept over her. She had seen lovers writhing atop one another plenty of times in the cellars, but she had never really studied them. She ought not to, really. It was their business, after all. Then again, the sound was in her chamber, and it was not perverse to investigate sounds that invaded her space, surely? She blew out all of her candles, leaned forward slowly, placed her hands on the hard mud floor and began to crawl toward the edge of the ragged curtain. Once there, she lowered her chin to the ground and peered underneath. A black bed roll was immediately visible, its surface pitted with age. The toes of a female foot flexed away on top of it, curling like the tendrils of red ivy. With her eyes, Artemi followed the top of the foot along its parent leg. The knee was too high behind the curtain to be visible. Below where it should have been she could see the lower thighs of a man. His knees dug into the mat beneath as he pressed forwards.
Artemi swallowed. She really should not be doing this. She laid her head on one side and adjusted her angle to gain a better view. She could see his hips now, insisting upon Galabril’s own. They moved against one another with a slight asynchronicity. Galabril’s arms were gently wrapped about her partner. The weight of his upper body rested upon her breasts, forcing them to swell outwards. The woman’s face, and the expression it held, was hidden behind her lover’s. All Artemi could make of his features was a mass of twisted, brown hair. She watched them for what felt like a few more minutes, but was probably another hour. They progressed through two levels as she watched: stopping to breathe through each moment of ecstasy. Finally, their movements were reduced to almost imperceptible displacements. They appeared afraid to stir too far from the position they held. At the last moment Galabril stifled a scream, sending Artemi reeling to the wall of her chamber at the unexpectedness of it.
Taking a deep breath, she resumed her spying posture and observed that they were still lying with legs intertwined, breathing hard. They would not part until their bond was complete. Artemi moved back onto the bedroll and pulled the red blanket over her. Her cheeks felt flushed. She felt enormously guilty at having witnessed their act. She also felt... hot. Artemi put a hand to the top of her thigh. She tested the heat with her fingers and then whipped them away in an instant. She was not going to be a victim of lust. She would not be any idiot’s lover!
Sleep eluded Artemi for a while as she catalogued the things she had seen. When it finally came to enfold her in darkness, she was so exhausted that nothing could have prevented it. A stampede of warhorses hammering through the caverns could not have disturbed her.
The fresh shirt supply was becoming dangerously low. Silar slammed the wardrobe door shut and shrugged into
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