《Freya》Seven
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Tension was thick in the Great Hall. Seated in his throne at the end of the hall, Ewen watched the entourage from the east as they made their way towards the dias where he sat. Glancing to his right, Ewen noticed Freya's expressionless face and wondered what her feelings were towards her uncle, the Duke, who made his way up the aisle towards them.
'My King,' the Duke greeted Ewen, stopping short of the throne and inclining his head as little as could without causing insult.
Keeping his voice neutral, Ewen responded as was customary.
The Duke looked at his niece and greeted Freya too.
Formalities over with, the real discussions could begin. With the Old King, Freya's father, dead arrangements had to be made for a caretaker for the east. King Ewen the Cold could not rule such a vast area without a trusted ambassador to act in his place. The tension grew when the Duke began to realise that the position was not to be his. Although he was an only child, Ewen preferred his cousin to act as his ambassador rather than this arrogant old man.
Ewens mind drifted back to the night before. It had been much, much later when he had stirred and reached for Freya. He had been surprised that she was already awake.
'How did he die?' She whispered in the darkness.
Ewen had wondered when she would ask about her father.
'He was dead when we got there,' Ewen replied softly. 'The attack had been unexpected and he was surprised in his chambers. He tried to defend himself but there were too many and the wounds were too numerous.'
Ewen lay still remembering the smoke from the burning castle and the dead that lay around and in it.
Freya had asked no more questions as Ewen had pulled her towards him and held her. Still lying on their sides he had caressed her breasts gently until she sighed and moved her hips towards him. Slowly and with infinite care, he had moved his hands lower and gently touched her womanhood before slowly using his fingers to ready her for him. When Ewen finally entered her, Freya had been slick with her arousal and he had been gratified to hear her moans of enjoyment. The side position he had used did not allow him such deep penetration but after the earlier events of the night and with a wounded thigh, Ewen thought it better. He was still surprised by the boldness that Freya had demonstrated earlier when she had touched him and straddled him. His demure wife had an openness to the marriage bed that was unexpected.
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The formal dinner that followed the discussions was no less tense. Despite the excellent meal and abundance of mead and beer, Ewen could feel the antagonism emanating from the Duke's party. The meeting today had not had the outcome he had desired and as he drank heavily his emotions became less guarded. Ewen caught the eye of his personal bodyguard and indicated with his expression that they needed to be on alert. There was much potential here for an unfortunate incident that could jeopardise all his hard work and the alliance that both kingdoms needed.
Ewen glanced across at Freya who was seated to his right, her throne slightly lower than his. Her face was expressionless as she observed her uncle and answered the few questions that were put to her. There was no doubt in Ewens mind that she could manage whatever happened in this chamber tonight. Growing up in the Old King's castle as a child could not have been easy.
Much later, when an end to the uncomfortable evening was more appropriate, Ewen stood to wish his guests goodnight. He noticed that the Duke was quite drunk now and hardly able to stand unaided. He felt a renewed sense of disgust for this man who was his wife's uncle. As Freya started to rise next to him, Ewen was stopped by the loud, harsh words from the Duke.
'Have you got her with child yet?' he asked loudly.
Ewen stopped dead still. The silence in the hall was deafening. As he turned to address the Duke, the old, drunk man spoke again.
'You were not my choice to breed her,' he sneered. 'Should you fail, remember there are many others who will achieve what you couldn't. Who knows even I may be tempted to breed her for the sake of a throne.'
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Ewen turned fully and faced the old man squarely.
'Brave words old man,' he said evenly. 'Leave the business of ruling and succession to those capable of ruling. You are more skilled in drinking and gossiping like the old women in my castle'.
Turning back towards Freya, Ewen noticed with pride that her face had remained devoid of expression. She waited for him at the foot of the dias and took his offered arm. Behind him Ewen could hear talk starting again. Together he left the Great Hall with Freya and made his way to his personal chambers.
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Riposte
Noël is known across the city of Portland—and not by choice. Under the care of the richest man in the city and just transferred to a new high school, she's already making close friends... and bitter enemies. A chance encounter on her first day plunges her headfirst into a secret underground tournament. Between suspicious classmates and utter strangers, Noël soon gets a taste for the addictive rush of the duel, but questions of love and trust complicate every move she makes. Cutthroat games with grim consequences await her in a shadowy world of competitors all dueling for the greatest prize imaginable. A new story from Etzoli, that one butterfly who writes things. This is a side-adventure I've written during the pandemic, as I've been having a lot of trouble getting into the correct head-space for writing my main series (The Last Science). Expect some rougher bits. Schedule is sporadic, but this will be a shorter one (closer to Snipe or Epilogue in length). I hope you enjoy it! Full-size cover art [Discord] - come hang out and chat sometime with etzy and other readers!
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