Time did not exist in the twilight. The glow of the candles waxed and waned in the monotonous rhythm of the draft that snuck through some unseen cracks in the stone. The air was heavy with the smell of dust and incense like in a cursed, old tomb. A few rags were strewn on the granite floor and on top of them lay a body, as naked as on the day it had broken its first cry into this world.

Curled up like a newborn, Castor peered blindly into the murk. His body was numb to the cold, not a muscle twitching under his marble skin. He didn’t feel the hard slabs scraping his shoulder and hips, nor the draft that made the tiny specks of dust swirl through the air like snowflakes. Neither the cracking of the candles nor the distant scraping of mice, running below the ceiling could reach his ears. If it weren’t for the almost inaudible breaths sneaking past his lips, one could think he was a corpse.

And yet, he could still feel the heat of her skin, the ripeness of her flesh as their bodies united, again and again, until they merged into one. He could smell her perfume, sweet like roses and peaches, mixing with his sweat and the scent of holy incense to form a hypnotic fragrance that drove him mad with lust. Her moans still echoed in his ears, intertwining with his own in a majestic choir, only to be shattered by reality.

‘That was a mistake!’ The darkness morphed into her image. She was again straightening her skirts, her pearly teeth nibbling on her lower lip, her cheeks - flushed like two pink apples.

“I’ll take… responsibility.” His lips muttered into the emptiness. “Your honor… I’ll protect it.”

‘Protect!? We desecrated holy grounds!’ Shadows and light knitted together to form the locks of hair, falling freely on her half-covered bosom and undulating with each rushed breath. ‘If anybody learns about what we did here, we’ll be excommunicated. Or worse!’

“No.” His eyes stung and his voice shattered into a thousand pieces. “But… You said… We only followed the will of the Gods. We united like the priests of old. You said it was alright. If what we did was a sin, then if we confess and go on a pilgrimage…”

‘Do you want me to fall into the hands of the quaestors like a heretic?’ crackled the flame of the candle.

“But if we get married…”

‘How can you be so heartless!?’ The draft whispered in his ear. ‘I have a betrothed in Limris! Do you want to ruin my future? Do you hate me that much? Do you want to ruin me!?’

“No!” Tears rolled down his face and wetted the old stones. “I… I…”

‘Then remain silent,’ hissed the candle. ‘And know that if you tell a living soul about this, I won’t hesitate to speak the truth.’

“The truth?” The question rolled from Castor’s bitten lips into the emptiness.

‘That you forced yourself on me and violated me.’

“No!” He sobbed in the darkness. “You… You came after me. You touched me first! You were the one who exposed yourself first! You told me to follow my desires! You seduced me! Was this your plan all along?”

‘Who would believe such a crazy slander!?’ Pricilla’s words rang in his mind, every syllable a blade piercing his heart. ‘I am a noble lady of virtue and the Duke’s personal guest. All I wanted was to discuss with you the tales I’ve heard from my theology teachers. My ribbons broke without me noticing, but you never said a warning word. You just enjoyed my shame!’

“No!” Castor gasped. “Y-you’re wrong!”

‘But this wasn't enough for you. You injured yourself with a knife to lure me, to make me worry about you. And as I was leaning in to help, you fondled my breasts. I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I knew was that you had a blade and could stab me at any moment if I didn’t do as you say. If I didn’t pretend to play your perverted game. Then you undressed yourself.’

“No!” wailed Castor and pressed his ears shut, but Pricilla’s voice seemed to echo even louder.

‘You rolled up my skirts. And then you took me, destroying my chastity and the sanctity of this place. I was too weak to resist. You ravished me again and again, deaf to my pleas. It is all your fault!”

Castor’s sobs finally silenced the voice. His body shivered, scraping painfully against the hard stones. But he didn’t mind. It was a just punishment. After all, he was a sinner.

He recalled his insatiable lust. The soft flesh under his fingers. That wonderful warmth he had never experienced before - engulfing him, elating him, giving him such pleasure and power. He recalled Pricilla’s deep moans. Her nails digging deep into his skin. Her gasps as they moved in unison… It was all a lie! He had been blind to think that her muffled cries had been ones of pleasure. He had hurt her! He had convinced himself it was her desire too, and then, to satisfy his disgusting lust, he had plucked an innocent flower. Even worse, he had defiled her on hallowed grounds! He had dirtied her both body and soul!

A howl ripped his throat.

“Monster!”

He scratched his face and pulled on his hair. His fingers blindly found the end of his rope belt, now lying tangled with his dirty habit. Shaking uncontrollably, he managed to get on his knees.

With a hiss, the rope bit into his shoulder and back.

“Father Norn, destroy this erring flesh.”

Another hit made his skin flare up.

“Father Lustris, cleanse this muddied soul.”

Again and again, the snapping of the rope accompanied the quiet prayer. And with each strike, something inside Castor slowly died.

***

The fork dully scraped against the expensive silver plate. Row after row of fine egg crumbs lined like an army, preparing to attack the two juicy sausages lying on the side. With the discerning eye of a seasoned general, Pricilla continued stirring her breakfast, giving only half-heartedly an ear to her father’s grumbling about the upcoming tax audit, her disobedient sister, the Duke, and Norden in general. Most of her attention was concentrated on her encounter with Castor a few hours prior. Her fork smashed the organized lines of her eggs, plunging them into disarray just like her thoughts.

Even reminiscing about him made her mood sour. And yet, she couldn’t stop her thoughts. What had happened between them was just… a rehearsal. A chance to test the effectiveness of her sigil. Everything had gone smoothly. Then why was she so unsatisfied?!

Shivers ran down her spine, as her mind and body united in the recollection. Her skin remembered his every touch - so soft and gentle as if he had feared that she would break under him. His lips had whispered her name as he had clumsily caressed her breasts, her back, her thighs, and up, to her most intimate depths. His tongue around her nipples had been awkward but eager, his teeth - never scaring her sensitive flesh. And even when inside her, he had been attentive with every thrust, adjusting to her every moan and gasp as if endlessly searching for a way to ignite her pleasure. And ignited he had.

Despite taking a bath and changing into fresh clothes, she could still feel his warmth inside her. The scent of his sweat lingered on her. His exalted expression remained before her eyes.

Disgusting!

She had a mission. A task, given to her by the man she loved. The father of her unborn child. Her one and only Emperor. To feel what she felt right now was treason to him and to reason. How could she compare the affections of a pup to the passionate love of a lion? Castor’s crude intimacy couldn’t compare to the bliss her prince had given her. She had never betrayed him! The thing between her and Castor was just a necessary sacrifice on the way to achieving their goals. It was just a task, but then why did she feel so dirty?

Against her will, Pricilla remembered the exalted face of the youth. He had obeyed her every command, letting himself be engulfed by lust and desire. She could still hear his guttural moans and feel the muscles tensing eagerly under his skin. And yet, deep in that seemingly empty gaze of his, in those dark, entranced eyes, something had shaken her. Fear? Disgust? Reproach? Whatever that something was, it made her feel like a criminal!

With a grunt, Pricilla shoved away her plate and tried to drown her feelings in a cup of cold water.

Why should she feel guilt? All she did wasn't her fault. She only tried her best to fulfill her assignment as quickly as possible in order to protect herself, her baby, and her love. The future of Limeria and its ruler was much more important than a single youth. Actually, that boy should be grateful. She had made him a real man and, without a doubt, given him more than enough pleasure. If he kept his mouth shut, everything would be just fine. Maybe after a couple of years, he could begin bragging about his first conquest, as long as he kept the details about her identity a secret. After all, that was what men did, right? She had overheard enough of the servants and even some of her father’s knights telling pretty indecent or even shameful stories about their first love conquests. Yes, Castor could count himself lucky that he could even have a taste of her. She wasn’t some cheap prize, some harlot of low birth, but a high-noble lady. A northern savage like him should be happy and grateful to her. After all, she had allowed him to use her body to quench the flames of lust.

‘And who was the one who ignited that lust?’ whispered her evil mind.

Snorting loudly, Pricilla banged her cup on the table.

She did what she had to do. It wasn’t her fault. Besides, according to Bessie, the sigil only increased her innate attractiveness. Castor must have had some hidden yearnings already. She had only given him a little encouragement, nothing else. It wasn’t her fault. He was the one who acted upon his desires. Had wanted to do it. His actions were his own. Had he been as pious as he had first stated, none of this would have happened.

Enough with the nonsense!

Now she had all the weapons she needed to finish her task as soon as possible. The faster she could trap that damn Beast, the better for her and her child. As for Castor, she was quite sure that he’d keep his mouth shut. After all, everyone, especially religious folk like him, had a natural fear of the Church’s quaestors. The White Brothers didn’t like it when someone desecrated the holy grounds and didn’t shy to straighten the wrongdoers with a dose of painful persuasion. Castor would be as mute as a fish for both their sakes.

Taking a deep breath, Pricilla put her napkin to the side and stood up. Walking to her father, she gave him a kiss and rewarded his bewilderment with a charming smile.

“Calm down, father-dearest! You don’t want to give yourself indigestion. Just do as you always do and show those northern fools how a Lord of the Coin does his job. Now please, excuse me. I need to be going myself. Won’t you wish your little girl some luck?”