First and Last (4)

Benelia had finally yielded the lead. Even so, Theorad did not mistake her words for the easy confidence she ordinarily wore.

He brushed the disheveled hair back from her forehead and drew her carefully toward him. She tensed at the touch, apparently bracing herself for the pain she had already endured. Her face betrayed nervousness despite her attempt to remain composed.

“…”

Her breathing grew heavy and uneven. For once she avoided his gaze, her golden eyes restless. Theorad, conscious of how frightened she still seemed, moved slowly rather than rushing her. At the first intimate contact, her shoulders twitched.

“Can you manage?” he asked.

“Don't be insolent. Have you forgotten how far we've already come?”

Her answer was fierce, but the tension beneath it was plain. Theorad took it as permission to continue, though he remained mindful of her discomfort.

He entered her as gently as he could. She caught her breath. There was still resistance, and he stopped rather than forcing the movement farther.

“Your Majesty… May I touch you?”

“You troublesome man. What do you think you're doing already?”

“Then forgive me for taking the liberty.”

Theorad reached for her, trying to help her relax. Benelia startled at the unfamiliar caress, then gave a small involuntary sound. Even in the middle of this intimate encounter, the imperiousness in her voice seemed determined to survive.

Her face grew warmer. Theorad waited until she seemed less tense before continuing, adjusting his movements whenever she tightened or winced.

“Your Majesty, there's no shame in making a sound.”

“Could you please be quiet? Where did you learn such impertinence…?”

He did not argue. Instead he watched her expression and kept his pace slow.

Little by little, she stopped biting down so fiercely on her lip. Her breath steadied, and the discomfort that had shadowed her face began to ease.

“A little more…” she whispered.

Theorad followed her request, carefully. Benelia's guarded voice gave way to a breath of surprised pleasure.

Soon his own breathing quickened. Realizing he was nearing his limit, he began to draw back.

Benelia immediately caught him around the waist with her legs.

“Don't pull away from me. That's an imperial command.”

Theorad hesitated at the urgency of her words, then held her close. The encounter reached its climax, and he ejaculated inside her.

For a while, neither could do anything but breathe. They exchanged a dazed look and a brief kiss, but Theorad turned his face away before the closeness could linger.

“Your Majesty. Your wish is fulfilled.”

The words made the room feel suddenly empty.

Benelia gave a weary nod. Theorad withdrew and sat beside her. She wiped her eyes, gathered her breath, and slowly sat up as well.

They remained side by side in silence until Benelia spoke.

“It wasn't quite as wonderful as I'd imagined.”

She looked toward him.

“But because it was with you, I think it was worth experiencing.”

“…I'm glad you aren't disappointed.”

“Then it's my turn to give you something.”

Theorad looked up in alarm. Benelia answered his expression with a faint smile.

“You lecher. I mean a reward for your service to the Empire. I know the difference between public duty and private affection.”

“A reward, Your Majesty?”

“Your artificial rain magic helped secure the revolution. I could grant you fertile land near the capital. It has rivers and mountains, and would make a fine agricultural domain.”

“Your Majesty…”

“And a domain needs a suitable title. I could make you a duke.”

It was an astonishing offer. Land, wealth, and a duchy were honors most nobles could hardly dream of. But Theorad bowed his head.

“Forgive me. I'd rather remain where I am, in Pelgaroin. There are people who depend on me. I can't simply leave them.”

Benelia was silent for a time, struggling to choose her response. Finally she sighed.

“Of course. You would say that. Do as you please.”

“I'm sorry to trouble you.”

“Will you do nothing but apologize?”

Her reproach had little heat behind it.

“If you're truly sorry, remain my friend. I'll be occupied for at least a year after the coronation. But once I can spare the time, if I summon you to visit, will you come?”

“If Your Majesty invites me, of course.”

“I'll call you so often you'll grow tired of me.”

The faint tremor in her voice sounded almost like a child's complaint.

“Then I'll visit so often that you'll grow tired of me,” Theorad replied, placing a hand over his chest.

For an instant, Benelia looked genuinely happy. Then regret overtook the smile.

She found herself imagining another future: a Theorad with no engagement to Ashley, a Theorad who entered her service as her consort and lived beside her. For a heartbeat, that impossible life was painfully sweet.

Foolish.

She shook it away. Those paths would never meet.

Benelia rose and pulled a gown from the hanger. Her hands trembled as she dressed.

Perhaps it would have been better if I'd never met you.

The memory of the moonlit night returned to her with painful clarity. She breathed deeply and moved toward the terrace.

With one step she tried to abandon regret, with the next her anguish, and with the third her sorrow. At the open doors she stopped, looking up at the scattered stars.

“You should go,” she said. “If you're here too late, people will start talking.”

Theorad bowed. He cleaned himself as best he could, dressed, and fastened his overcoat.

For a moment he watched her standing amid the stirring curtains. She looked terribly alone. He wanted to go to her, but knew she was asking him not to.

“Your Majesty. Theorad Deharem takes his leave.”

He bowed again and walked toward the door. Benelia remained at the terrace, gazing into the night. Only when his hand touched the knob did she speak.

“Theorad Deharem.”

He stopped.

“This may sound absurd, but in my previous life, you were my butler.”

Theorad turned his head toward her. Benelia kept her eyes on the distant stars.

“As we promised, we've become friends in this life. Perhaps even a little more than friends.”

She had spent her life struggling to become a star above the Empire. Only after reaching that height had she realized something below was more precious than any star. Now, no matter how she stretched out her hand, she could not reach it.

“So, in the next life…”

Benelia turned partly toward him. Her smile was mischievous, beautiful, and unbearably sad.

“I’ll be your bride.”

Moonlight framed her face. Theorad knew he would remember that smile.