First and Last (3)

Theorad's hands trembled. Benelia had answered every objection he had raised. His breathing grew uneven, and he seemed to have forgotten how to blink.

She was asking him to sleep with her on the very night of her coronation. Even at Benelia’s own request, the thought of violating the emperor felt almost unbearable.

He forced himself to speak, not in search of another convenient excuse, but from genuine concern for the sovereign he respected.

“Your Majesty, what if you become pregnant? There would be unrest among the ministers and the people. Your position would be endangered, and so would mine. Knowing that, do you still wish to have this relationship?”

“Is that your final objection? Do you think I took control of the Empire without considering something so obvious?”

“You've already considered it…?”

“Today is a safe day. I told you before: if it helps, you may treat me as a prostitute or sex slave for tonight.”

Theorad felt as though every route of escape had closed. Perhaps the outcome had been settled from the moment he stepped into her chambers.

The realization left him both unsettled and grimly impressed. A strained laugh escaped him.

“You really are the emperor.”

When Benelia set her mind on something, she pursued it without yielding. He had admired that resolve when it was turned toward the Empire's welfare. Facing it himself was another matter.

At last he bowed his head.

“I will keep my promise.”

“How impudent. You make it sound like a decision you've only just reached.”

“…Forgive me.”

“Enough. I didn't call you here to scold you. Now…”

Benelia stood and took hold of her dress straps. She began to draw one down, then froze.

For all her authority, she had never been intimate with a man. She had never shown her unclothed body to one, either. Suddenly conscious of the enormity of what she had demanded, she pulled the strap back into place and blushed.

“Turn around,” she said, clearing her throat. “Undress as well.”

“As you command.”

Theorad faced away and removed his coat, his neck brooch, and his shirt, folding them onto a chair. He continued until he was completely undressed.

Standing naked with his back to her, he felt uncomfortably exposed. Benelia was his sovereign, a woman whose judgment he revered. That made the intimacy more disconcerting, not less.

“…Are you finished?”

Her voice trembled, though the command was clear.

“You may turn around.”

Theorad took a breath and faced her. Benelia stood close, also unclothed. She held one elbow with her opposite hand, making no attempt to conceal herself entirely.

His gaze caught upon her breasts before he could stop himself. He looked up at once, embarrassed.

“I told you to look at me,” she said, her cheeks coloring. “Yet the first thing you look at is my chest. And after all that reluctance! Are you going to claim you feel nothing?”

“Your Majesty, it's only natural for a man to—”

“I didn't ask for an explanation. Lower your head.”

“Why?”

Benelia cupped his face and rose on tiptoe. She kissed him, pulling him toward her. When he recoiled in surprise, she held him more firmly and pressed her tongue against his lips.

Theorad caught her shoulders and pushed her back.

“Your Majesty. Couldn't we at least wait until we're in bed…?”

“I thought I told you to stop making excuses.”

Her fierce gaze and ragged breath made another refusal difficult. He had yielded to an old promise under pressure, telling himself this might be her first and last chance. Still uneasy, Theorad lowered his head and kissed her again.

“…Yes.”

Benelia drew against him. The warmth of her body and the pressure of her bare skin made him acutely conscious of his own arousal.

She continued advancing as they kissed. Theorad yielded a step, then another, until his legs met the bed. He tried to steady them both, but his balance gave way and he fell backward onto the mattress.

Benelia followed him, then broke the kiss and raised her head. A fine thread of saliva parted between their lips.

“Lie still,” she said, a note of pride returning to her voice. “I'll take care of the rest.”

Her black hair brushed his cheek. When he failed to answer, she gave a small, amused laugh.

“You’re rather endearing like this. Where did the courage of that butler who protected me go?”

“A butler? Protecting you? What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

Benelia moved over him and settled astride his hips, steadying herself on her knees.

Theorad caught her wrist as she reached to guide their bodies together.

“Your Majesty, you're inexperienced. If you try to do this all at once, you could hurt yourself.”

“You worry too much. I've learned what I could. Leave the rest to me.”

“But—”

“Enough. I'd rather take this position than lie underneath you.”

She was determined. Theorad fell silent, still watching her with concern.

Benelia took hold of him and positioned herself. Despite her insistence, her breath shook, and there was fear in her face.

She slowly lowered her hips. She met resistance at her entrance—a thin membrane held for a moment—and paused.

“Your Majesty…”

He meant to tell her she could stop. Before he could finish, she pressed down again.

The membrane gave way as she pressed down. The first penetration hurt her; she flinched sharply and bent forward against him.

For a moment, Benelia could do nothing but hold herself still. Tears shone in her eyes. She bit her lip and endured the pain, though an involuntary sound escaped her.

There was a small trace of blood where their bodies met.

She stayed motionless until she could draw a steady breath. Then, inch by inch, she continued, determined to complete the act she had initiated.

Theorad could feel her trembling. He found no pleasure in watching her struggle, especially when strands of hair clung to her damp face and she seemed too intent on proving herself to notice them.

“…I'm sorry,” Benelia murmured.

She glanced at him uncertainly. She had spent her life mastering everything demanded of her; even here, she seemed afraid of failing.

Theorad understood the effort behind her achievements. He did not want her to believe she had to earn anyone's approval through pain.

He lifted his upper body, drew her carefully into his arms, and eased her onto the mattress beneath him.

“…”

Benelia stared up at him. Her usually confident eyes widened in surprise.

He offered a faint, reassuring smile. She frowned.

“How reckless. Do you mean to place your sovereign beneath you?”

“Does it displease you?”

“Are you seriously asking? No one in the Empire has the right to look down on me.”

“Do you truly mean that?”

“I have never spoken a lie.”

Theorad saw the contradiction and answered gently.

“Then what about your promise that I could treat Your Majesty as a sex slave for tonight? You said it more than once.”

Benelia opened her mouth, then closed it. Any answer she gave would contradict her own words.

“You really are…”

She sighed, unable to decide whether to admire his quick thinking or scold him for it.

At last she turned her head slightly and spoke so softly that only he could hear.

“…Do as you please.”

For the first time, the new emperor had yielded the lead to someone else.