Decreash imperial Palace
The muffled moans of Jazell in her chamber were the only noise breaking the silence.
Buried between her legs was a concubine, who was servicing her passions, making her head spin with ecstasy.
"Ugh, huh!
Jazell pressed both lips together as she pushed her ass towards the face of the concubine, spreading her legs and giving her more access.
Her hands clenched the sheets as her mouth hung open, her chest heaving from
the eccentric ministration the maid was giving her.
She closed her eyes, her hand lifting her gown slightly; they trembled from the pleasure simmering through her blood.
"What is your name?"
Jazell asked between rapid breaths, a small moan escaping her lips.
"Basima, my lady."
The concubine had to pause to answer Jazell's question.
"Don't stop."
Jazell shrieked.
"Basima…"
She called the name fondly, liking the way it sounded on her tongue.
"My lady, there is a letter for you."
Linn's gentle voice pierced the air as she stepped into the chamber.
Her words faded slightly when her gaze fell upon her mistress, unmistakably leaning against the bed, a concubine's face buried underneath her nightgown.
The candlelight washed over her figure, outlining the sweat prickling on her skin.
Linn wasn't at all surprised at what she saw; it was seemingly normal. Her mistress had strange passions for both men and women alike.
"Leave."
Jazell ordered the concubine, already satisfied with her service. The concubine retracted her face from beneath the gown and climbed down from the bed, swaying her hips as she walked out of the room.
"I heard you say you have a letter for me. Read it."
Jazell spoke without sparing Linn a glare as she rose from the bed, one hand supporting her protruding stomach.
The breeze spilling through the window toyed with Linn's hair, sweeping it across her face. The curtains in the room thrashed violently, rising and falling, as the wind moved.
Linn struggled to keep it out of her eyes as she drew closer to the candle stand.
She squinted her eyes while still shielding the candle flame as it threatened to die beneath the relentless breeze.
The parchment crackled softly as she worked to roll the scroll open, her fingers stiff from the chill.
"Dear Jazell…"
Her voice trembled as she began, the words barely audible enough to carry across the room.
"Linn."
Jazell's interruption was soft, almost absentminded.
Her icy blue eyes shifted from the darkened part of the chamber to the terrace outside. She made her way outside; resting on the railings, she raised her gaze to the slow drift of clouds above, pale and indifferent as they passed.
"I want you to read the letter inwardly," she continued, her tone even and unhurried, "then tell me what it is all about."
Linn hesitated, but she obeyed nonetheless, her eyes moving quickly over the lines.
After reading the letter, Linn's pupils constricted, almost shrinking out of existence.
"My lady…" Linn's voice wavered, careful and fearful, as she approached Jazell at the terrace.
"Your father is dead… and the queen, your mother, Kora Makaah, has sent for you and your brother, Lord Brandon."
Jazell's eyes stayed fixed on the drifting clouds, unblinking, as if the wind and the night sky were far more compelling than the life-altering words said to her.
"Hmm."
Jazell hummed, then turned her gaze to her maid. "So… the great King Jarob has kicked the bucket. Life moves on."
She brushed past Linn, her dress whispering against the floor, as she made her way toward her chamber.
"My lady, shall I inform Lord Hand?" Linn asked, her voice careful and dutiful.
"You will not speak a word of this!" Jazell snapped, her eyes blazing as she strode to the oak table.
The curtains in the room thrashed violently, rising and falling, as the wind moved.
"My father was a man with no honor," she continued, her voice low, sharp as a blade.
"I doubt his death will be mourned by many, and I, for one, will not. I will not grieve a man who sold me willingly and stripped me of my birthright."
Her jaw clenched, knuckles white as she slammed her hand against the table.
"It pains me," she began, lifting a jar of wine from the table and pouring a cup into her hand. "That my brother, Mavak, will get what he has always wanted… the throne of Vandamonth."
Jazell clicked her tongue, a faint sound betraying the edge of jealousy she tried to conceal.
"My lady, there is more …"
"I do not wish to hear it!"
She heard Jazell say, her voice cutting through the air like a whip.
She steadied her hand and began to pour herself some wine, the amber liquid catching the candlelight.
"Your brother Mavak is not the one set to sit upon the throne," Linn said, completely
unshaken by the fire in Jazell's eyes and without a single care in the world that Jazell could have her head detached from her body for daring to speak when asked not to.
She had served Jazell enough to know that certain things must be overlooked.
The smooth flow of wine from the jar into the cup came to an abrupt halt.
Jazell's eyes rolled upward as she slowly lifted her chin.
"What did you say?"
She abandoned the jar mid-pour, the wine swishing dangerously close to spilling onto the polished floor. Her gaze locked onto Linn, piercing, demanding answers.
"Prince Mavak, your brother, is not the one set to rule in your father's stead," Linn repeated her voice calm but shaky.
"Instead… another has been chosen, the royal advisor, Aaram."