Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Her eyes flashed with anger and Lucy was terribly glad she wasn’t one of the hapless guards. They were all going to be in for a bad time from now on until Mistress Twa’linda came back. If she ever came back, that was.
“I’d be pleased to attend and witness the ceremony,” she said smoothly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Oh, don’t thank me, my dear.” Mistress Shin’dara flashed another one of her malicious smiles. “You may be sorry you attended.”
What’s that supposed to mean? Lucy wondered.
The Twainer’s words gave her an uneasy feeling, though she kept her face impassive. Probably Mistress Shin’dara was just alluding to the awful things she was going to do to her guards during the Loyalty Ceremony. If she was going to abuse them all like she had the one who had come in at the beginning of breakfast, it really was going to be hard to watch.
She hoped that was all it was, but the lump of unease growing in the pit of her stomach said otherwise. Still what choice did they have? She had to attend if she was going to have a chance to get the dimriel.
“Well, I must go if I’m to make certain those idiots my Other Half hired as guards don’t botch the ceremony,” Mistress Shin’dara said.
As she spoke, she rose from her seat and Lucy was finally able to see what she was wearing. Earlier, she’d thought it was just a tight black top with the nipples cut out. Now she saw it was a black cat suit which seemed to be made out of some shiny material like vinyl. Also, it wasn’t just her nipples that were showing, the crotch of the suit was completely missing, which meant her pussy was on display. Black leather boots with sharp, stiletto heels completed the outfit.
Lucy noticed another detail too—the white veil that covered the back of the Twainer’s hair fell all the way down to the floor. It swirled around her ankles as she strutted from the room. When she got to the door, she turned back for a moment.
“The ceremony is in about thirty solar minutes, so you just have time to finish breakfast before you come to the Throne Room. Enjoy!” she said.
And she left the Banquet Hall looking, to Lucy at least, like a queen who had only recently returned from exile and who had decided that this time she was going to stay and rule with an iron fist.
THIRTY-EIGHT
LUCY
“Whew…” Lucy sank back in her chair and then reached under the table to tap T’zaren on the head. “She’s gone—you can come out now.”
He came out from beneath the table, a frown on his face.
“That was a fucking interesting First Meal,” he remarked.
“I thought so too,” Lucy told him. “Er, you didn’t have to keep on licking me, you know,” she pointed out. “I mean, nobody could see you.”
His eyes flashed.
“I love to lick you and worship your pussy—you should know that by now, Lucille.”
“Oh. Of course. I mean, er, thank you…” She felt her cheeks getting hot and hastened to change the subject. “So it seems like we still have a shot to get the dimriel. Maybe after we attend her ceremony, Mistress Shin’dara will agree to make a deal.”
“Maybe…” T’zaren sounded doubtful.
“What? Why are you looking like that?” Lucy asked uncertainly.
“Because I know more about Twainers than you do and their Dark Face is always devious,” he explained.
“There’s something I don’t understand,” Lucy said, offering him a pastry—not one of the bug guts kind. “Why do the guards stay? I mean, she’s so abusive and awful to them. Why don’t they leave and run away from her? Or, I don’t know…rise up against her or something? Why do they just stay here and take it? Is it because they hope that Lady Twa’linda might pop back up at any moment?”
“That’s part of it, no doubt,” T’zaren said, taking a bite of his pastry. He looked at it and nodded in approval. “Not bad.”
“Have some of the drink—it’s like coffee and cinnamon and some other spices I can’t name.” Lucy poured him a cup and he took a drink. “So you think there’s some other reason they stay?” she asked.
T’zaren nodded.
“They stay because Twainers are dangerous. Often they have a third form—a deadly one that is not even remotely humanoid. It would be useless to try to run from or fight such a creature.”
“They have a third form?” Lucy looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know that!”
“You’ve never dealt with Twainers before—I have.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling.
The motion caught Lucy’s eye and she saw the scratch-marks her nails had made on his flesh.
“I, uh, hope I didn’t hurt you, there,” she murmured, pointing to the marks. “I didn’t mean to. Just…when you were, er, paying obeisance to me it was kind of intense.”