Prince Lionel reclined on the pile of velvet cushions and lazily peeled a tangerine. The soft colorful light coming from the lanterns made the golden threads in his thin robe glimmer, their shine in perfect unison with the golden locks of his hair. Beneath the half-closed eyelids, two sharp eyes pretended to aimlessly look at the starry sky outside the open balcony window, but in fact, carefully followed every move of the two people humbly bowing before him. With a graceful motion, he put a piece of fruit in his mouth, his white teeth bursting the juicy pulp.

Despite his leisurely appearance, Lionel was seething, his mood – worst than after the dream-meeting with the damn Binshi. Being away from the capital for a year and a half, some of his carefully laid plans had become quite tangled. Despite trying to keep everything in check during the campaign, his absence had allowed some unruly pawns to do as they pleased with his long-term game.

He waved his hand at the old black-clad woman who stood next to a tall man with a silver mask.

“Please, continue, Nanny Morna. You were telling me about Lady Nora. So, she is with child again.”

“Yes, my prince,” the old woman replied in a soft voice. “I heard her talk with the Crown Princess' ladies-in-waiting. She is looking for a wet nurse since the baby is due in less than a month.”

“Dear Lady Nora,” a dangerous spark lit in Lionel’s eyes. “She must be truly in love with Lord Simon. I have really brought two destined souls together. To think that in under two years, they will produce not only a cute heir to the earldom but now an unexpected spare.”

“It is so. Lady Elvira and the other ladies-in-waiting are all over their love story. The two are inseparable."

Lionel took another piece of tangerine and slowly chewed.

“Well, I hope the birth goes smoothly. It would be a tragedy if Lady Nora and her newborn son succumb to childbed fever. Master Argente will give you a health potion. When you visit Lady Nora to congratulate her on the birth, make sure to give some to her and to her son.”

"Maybe the child will be a girl,” said the nanny and her eyebrows twitched despite the rest of her face remaining placid.

“I hope it is. With such rich emerald mines, Sir Simon should have a little girl to dress up and decorate from head to toe in fineries. Alas, Master Argente's potions are too precious to waste on a girl. If the baby isn't a son, just sent the lady my congratulations.”

This time, the nanny obviously flinched but hurried to nod.

“May it be as you say, Your Imperial Highness.”

“Enough about Lady Nora.” Lionel waved his hand as if to drive away a pesky fly. “What about dear Lady Ann?”

“Count Grommel has filed a petition with the Church for a divorce.”

“Edmund did? On what ground?”

“He states that after four years of marriage, Lady Ann has given him only twin girls and lost all other children after that. He is concerned about the lack of an heir.”

“To think he would treat my favorite god-daughters like dust!” Lionel patted his chin with a finger and pouted. “What a disappointment. He and Lady Ann were such a lovely match. To think he deems my lovely god-daughters worthless, even after I have found perfect partners for them who would provide stability to the region even if no male heir is born.”

“Indeed. But Lord Grommel is quite unhappy with the candidates.”

“Is he now? Why?”

“He claims that the first son of Baron Permi is retarded and the child of Count Bomon is weak and sickly.”

“So little insight. They are both powerful lords of the Crown Prince’s faction just like the Count himself. Besides, the Permi boy is only six, there is time to develop into a fine young man. As for the Bomon, he can outgrow his sickness just like my dear brother did.”

“May the Two Gods bless the Crown Prince with a long life,” mumbled the nanny but the fleeting smirk on her face said otherwise.

“May They indeed,” nodded Lionel and started choosing some grapes from the tray next to him. “I should ask Primate Ambrosinus to have a talk with Count Grommel and bring him to his senses. Lady Ann should not be punished and discarded for fulfilling her duties perfectly.”

“Yes, my prince.” This time the old woman beamed with happiness but a moment later her face darkened. “However, Lord Grommel is known to be quite stubborn and prone to fits of anger.”

“You have a point.” Lionel popped a grape into his mouth. “I am starting to worry about Lady Ann and the twins. Who knows what Edmund might do blinded by rage and mistrust? Castle Grommel is surrounded by such steep cliffs. It's inevitable that accidents... happen."

“Yes, my lord. It is a dangerous place, indeed, especially if one is inebriated.”

“You are speaking my fears aloud, nanny! Please, contact Lady Ann personally and tell her that she has my support. Should anything happen in the future, the Imperial Palace’s doors are open to her and the girls. And we should finalize the angels’ marriage arrangements as soon as possible. I want to have the future of my god-children secured not a day too late.”

“It will be done, my lord.” The old woman bowed. “Lastly, there is the matter with Miss Tremain.”

“Ah, Lucia!” For the first time, the smile on Lionel’s face seemed genuine. He rolled a grape between his fingers. “A rare combination of charm and wits, my lovely Lucia. How is she fairing? And the boy? He should be… oh, my, two by now!”

“Little master Linus is a fine boy, bright and agile for his age. As for Miss Tremain… She has been experiencing some difficulties for the past year, ever since her husband was struck by insanity.”

“Poor Lucia! We can’t let the head of the biggest shipyard in the Empire and his family suffer. Jerome is a close acquaintance of mine. I will make sure that the best medication is sent. No, master Argente will visit him personally." He looked at the silver-masked man who silently nodded. "And of course, no one would mind sending some funds to the Tremains now that their business is suffering. As a member of the Imperial Family, I must support our loyal citizens in need.”

“I am sure Miss Tremain would be happy to receive your assistance, my prince. The dear is trying to keep the shipyards in working order in place of her husband but… her competitors are eyeing the business.”

“Such vultures!” Lionel smirked and it seemed that his mood improved quite a bit. “Taking advantage of a struggling woman. Nanny, this injustice can’t be allowed. Only a morally depraved person would do something like this. And a morally depraved person would also embezzle taxes if given the chance. I believe the imperial treasurer and his people could find some incriminating evidence should they start an investigation.”

“I will see to that, my prince. Should I specifically request for Count Orten to investigate?” The nanny's face twisted with disdain as she pronounced the nobleman's name.

"Unfortunately, the Count won't be available for the next few months. Find someone else."

The old woman bowed deeply with a pious expression but the glint in her eyes spoke otherwise.

The ringing of a bell disturbed the quiet evening, counting the twelve strokes of midnight. Lionel yawned and stretched his body on the pillows.

“Look what time it is. You should get some sleep, nanny.”

Lionel motioned to the potion master. The man rummaged through his black robes and procured a small vial with yellowish liquid which he hurriedly gave to the woman.

“You have been very diligent.” Lionel threw a small pouch at her and the woman grabbed it mid-air with surprising agility. “Here is your reward in addition to the medicine for your grandson.”

“Thank you, my prince!” There were tears in the corner of her eyes. “And many thanks to Master Argente. Only his potion can calm my poor baby.”

The woman motioned toward the masked man, but he slipped away, his body hunching forward like he was expecting an attack.

“Master Argente is a shy person, nanny, and doesn't like to be touched. But he knows to cherish your gratitude. Now go.”

The old woman bowed several times as she backed to the door. With a final curtsy, she left the room.

Lionel closed his eyes and sank between the cushions with a faint smirk. He liked diligent people and also liked motivating them properly. This one nanny, in particular, was quite useful, the key to her loyalty being her one and only sick grandson. Lionel snorted and thought how surprised the old soul would be if she knew that the medicine helping her grandson was also the one keeping his seizures reoccurring. What motivation would there be for her otherwise?

"You go back too." He waved his hand at the masked man. "The treatment of our shaman should not be interrupted. The men of Primate Ambrosinus have messed her up good, and I need the girl looking normal in a week. Oh, and she'll need a name. Call her Bessie or Essie, or something like that. Make sure she remembers it before we send her to Nanny Morna."

The masked man nodded in silence and bowed deeply. As silent as a snake, he exited the room, leaving his master blissfully alone.

Lionel yawned and loosened the belt of his robe a bit. With a graceful move, he took a kindling and held it in the flame of a nearby candle. He lifted the lid of the small incense burner next to the fruit bowl and soon gray wisps of smoke snaked toward the ceiling.

Breathing in the sweet fragrance of the love-herbs, Lionel closed his eyes and tried to let his body relax. He had an important task at hand and couldn’t let the nanny’s report bother him any longer. Still, his heart raced a bit as he thought about Lucia Tremain. Her beauty was a sin waiting to happen. And it had happened. Several times. Lionel licked his lips, remembering the feeling of that agile body dancing under his fingers and her long legs, holding him captive till the crack of dawn. It was a pity to leave such a marvel in the hands of Jerome Tremain but luckily he had very few chances to indulge in it.

If Lionel had to be honest, Lucia was the second woman to ever captivate him and, even if she was incomparable to his Queen, she had earned his favor. He fondly remembered the nights spent together and even more so – the quiet hours afterward when they weaved their plans huddled together. Indeed, her beauty was a sin but her cold, calculating mind was a weapon, and one she was willing to share. Amongst the many gifts his lovely, ruthless Lucia had given him was the largest shipyard in the Empire. For a second, shivers ran down his spine. There was something dangerously attractive in a woman who knew what she wanted and had no second thoughts on the methods she was going to use to achieve it. In this, she and his Queen were similar… Now that he thought about it, the Duchess of Norden reminded him a bit of Lucia. She had the same unyielding flame in her eyes, hidden behind a frail, sheepish facade.

The smoke of the love-herbs tickled his nose and made his blood boil. The oft cloth of his robe caressed his sensitive skin - lightly and softly like a shy maiden's touch. It was such a pity that the Duchess was no longer a maiden. The sheer thought of that bastard collecting her flower was revolting. Still, having both of them to play with... could prove to be funny. Seeing them, begging in his feet, broken and twisted in both body and soul. Especially that damn slave who had taken so much from him. Now he was going to take something of his. And he was going to take her again and again... Lorelei was her name, right?

Lorelei. He tasted the sound of the name as his lips curved up. A sweet name for a sweet little slut. His fists painfully cramped. She had her own sins to pay for and her blood and tears would be the currency.

One of the wall panels creaked and interrupted his thoughts. For a second, Lionel tensed up and his right hand slid between the cushions, but a moment later his muscles relaxed. No assassin would be breathing so heavily while approaching their target. Nor did they bathe in a tub of rose water and lavender. He remained on the cushions, eyes closed, and pretended to be asleep.

The heavy breaths drew nearer and nearer until he felt a waterfall of hair tickling his face and two lips pressed against his in a thirsting kiss. His arms closed around the woman’s waist, making her shriek in surprise and try to back away. He didn’t allow that. Pulling her closer to his chest, he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. Simultaneously, one hand slowly trailed down her back until it reached her ass, where it remained firmly planted. Lionel could feel her warmth through the thin cloth of her nightgown. The image of a crying Lorelei, the love-herbs, and now this young, voluptuous body, pressing against him, made his arousal almost unbearable.

In one swift move, he tumbled the woman on the cushions. As he lay on top of her, he felt her hands pushing weakly against his chest. He released their kiss and she gasped for air.

“What are those naughty little things doing?” he purred and licked one of her arms from the elbow to the fingertips before pulling it over her head.

“M-my l-lord…w-wait…”

“A bit too late for second thoughts, my lovely Pricilla,” whispered Lionel and pinned her second arm to the pillows.

“B-but we… we shouldn’t… a-ahh…”

“Really?”

Lionel’s free hand slid down her lower back and then up, rolling up her skirts and caressing her thigh. As his fingers reached the opening between her legs, Pricilla’s breaths became even more jagged. The moment he started playing around and circling her folds, she bit her lips to suppress a scream.

“Are you sure I should stop? Even if you are so wet?”

“Ohh! M-my... p-prince!”

“Surely it can wait,” chuckled Lionel and his fingers slid in completely, making the woman’s body arch.

“Yes! Oh, yes!”

“That’s my Pricilla!”

Saying that, he leaned down and kissed her and she eagerly reciprocated, sucking and nibbling on his tongue. Unable to hold back any longer, he spread her legs and rubbed himself against her entrance before plunging in with a sharp thrust. She screamed and shuddered. Her insides enveloped him in a velvety grip. This wonderful friction was too much.

Lionel groaned and started moving, savoring every thrust and every moan, slowly climbing to the apex of pleasure. And yet, a part of his mind remained completely sober. As he moved faster and faster, Pricilla’s flushed face overlapped with the one of Lorelei; her screams became the quiet, suppressed cries he had heard through that locked door in Sefis all those months ago. Still, he had enough sanity left to bite his lips before calling her name. Instead, he made his naughty mouth busy with one of Pricilla's breasts, squeezing even more passionate moans from her. Her insides enveloped him, warm and inviting; her legs wrapped around his hips - greedy to take in everything he had to give. Yet for the first time, this didn't satisfy him. He wanted her to struggle. He wanted to fight for every inch of her body. He desired to break and conquer her. But the face he saw before him, twisted from lust and pleasure, was not the one he desired to see.

Pulling out abruptly, Lionel turned the weak and panting Pricilla on her stomach. Pinning her arms against the pillows yet again, he bit the trough between her neck and shoulder. She shouted in surprise and pain, her wrists twisting in his grip. That was it! Lionel closed his eyes and plunged back inside her, deeper and harder than ever before. Her cries of pain mixed with gasps of pleasure as he moved faster and faster. With every thrust, he recalled that pair of frightened but defiant eyes. That silky hair, cascading down shoulders frail enough to break with a single touch. Those lips that spoke shakily but resolutely in his presence. Faster! Harder! He could almost feel her. He could almost taste her! He was going to conquer her!

With a roar, he released his pent-up desire. At the apex of pleasure, his mind blanked. His ears were deaf to Pricilla's cries. Only her image burned behind his tightly clenched eyelids. Lorelei of Norden!