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Desire is power, she explained.
It was getting hard to focus upon human company these days. Hard to shut out that other
soul—so powerful, so primal!—and limit herself to human words and human thoughts. Her
other self was a creature of pure self-indulgence whose every instinct became action as soon
as it was conceived. A human queen, on the other hand, was a creature of plots and
contrivances for whom every word must be chosen with care, voiced in just the perfect tone,
then studied as it took effect. How much easier it seemed to just live in the moment, to simply
be. Sometimes Siderea envied her Souleater counterpart.
She took a moment to glance in the mirror and was pleased by what she saw. The Souleater's
vitality had brought new color to her cheeks, and the deep ruddy tone of her lips no longer
needed enhancement. Only a bit of kohl was required to blacken her lashes, drawing attention
to her wide, dark eyes. Her body was draped in layers of ruddy silk, bound with a twisted
girdle that accentuated the curves of her form. Pearl-headed pins peeked out from rich black
curls about her face while the rest of her hair cascaded down over her shoulders in long,
coiled tendrils. No man could resist her thus. Perhaps no woman either.
She chose a pair of long earrings that tinkled softly as she moved, misted herself with one of
her more delicate perfumes—the tastes of men and women were so different in matters of
smell!—and finally was ready. A strange, fluttering excitement filled her stomach; was that
the Souleater? Was she watching her dress? Siderea took an extra moment at the mirror,
just in case. What do you think? she whispered to her consort. There was no answer. But she
thought to her as she left the room, silken skirts swirling around her ankles, Now you will
learn how to fly without wings.
Petrana Bellisi was waiting in the atrium. She stood up quickly when Siderea entered and
offered a quick curtsy. Clearly she was not quite sure what manner of greeting was expected
now that they were in the Witch-Queen's home territory. Beside her was a glass of wine, still
full. We shall have to fix that, Siderea thought.
"My dear Petrana." She held out her arms in welcome, then, when the visitor hesitated, moved
forward to embrace her. A tender kiss on each cheek lingered just long enough to bring a
warm flush to Petrana's face; the woman was unaccustomed to such casual intimacy.
She was dressed in silk the color of twilight, an odd choice for a summer afternoon. The
neckline was somewhat lower than her accustomed style, which was perhaps why she had
chosen it; she was clearly trying to follow Siderea's advice in looking less somber. But she
had draped a veil across her bosom and tucked it into the dress in such a manner that whatever
womanly gifts she might have possessed were effectively hidden from sight. Were the veil of
thinner silk, or more artfully draped, it might have offered a seductive enhancement, enticing
one to search for hidden treasures beneath. As it was, it seemed intended to serve as armor.
For the body or the soul? Siderea wondered.
"Your Majesty is kind to receive me."
The Witch-Queen shook her head and touched a perfumed finger to her visitor's lips. "Shush.
No titles, my dear. I will not have it." Taking Petrana's hand in her own, she urged her to sit
down once more by the abandoned glass of wine. "You are in my home now, not some
foreign court. Siderea will do." She signaled for a nearby servant to bring her a glass of wine
as well.
—and a low growl sounded within her brain, as the scent of the visitor filled her nostrils—
"A lovely gown," she murmured, startled by the mental intrusion. She ran her fingers down
one of Petrana's sleeves, along the edges where the fine white chemise peeked through.
"Scndalese silk, is it? They make the finest blues." A glass ol wine was handed to her; she
brought it to her lips
and paused a moment, drinking in its scent before sipping. "Ah, exquisite.
You must try some." She lifted Petrana's glass and handed it to her. "Our southern vineyards
have no equal, when the rainfall is right." She waited while her guest sipped from her glass,
then smiled and drank more fully. It was a vintage Siderea usually saved for seduction:
smooth, sweet, and laced delicately with herbs that were said to enhance the senses.
Her own were certainly more acute than usual. She could smell the residue of soap in her
visitor's hair, the faint minty fragrance from where she had brushed against one of Siderea's
plants, the thin sheen of nervous sweat upon her brow. Never had she experienced a person's
scent so acutely before. Was this another symptom of her partnership with the Souleater? If
so, it was delightful.
Again the low growl sounded in the back of her brain.
Shhh, she thought to her consort. All is well.
She encouraged her guest to speak of her recent travels, all the while plying her with wine.
Servants brought them plates of food as well: delicate savories made from the rarest of
cheeses, Sendalese olives sculpted into flowers, slivers of smoked fish arranged in delicate
patterns upon salted wafers. All of which increased Petrana's thirst, of course. Her wine glass
was refilled several times while they chatted. Of course. What Siderea meant to teach Petrana
today required preparation.
Finally Siderea judged the time was right. She waited for an appropriate opening in the
conversation, then laughed softly. Her long earrings tinkled with the movement. "But you
must forgive me. Here I have plied you with questions, and not given you a moment to
address the reason you came! What a poor hostess I am!" She set her glass of wine aside and
then took Petrana's from her, and set it aside as well. Then she took her guest's hands in her
own and gazed into her eyes, noting as she did so that the young woman's pupils were more
than a little dilated. "Pleased though I am to have such delightful company, it would be poor
hospitality not to address the reason you came. Or do I mistake what that might be?"
A bright flush rose to Petrana's cheeks. "You said at Salvator's coronation that you would be
able to ... advise me. About, ah ... men." She tried to wring her hands together, but Siderea
held them tightly.
"And so I did. And look what you have brought me to work with!" She smiled her most
encouraging smile. "You are quite lovely, my dear. You know that? With a bit of powder and
a few social tricks you could have
any man you desired—even a High King. And that would be good for all of us, yes?"
She stood, drawing Petrana up with her. "Come, first I will show you how to make the most
of what Nature has given you. Later, other lessons."
Holding her firmly by the hand, she led her through the public portion of the palace back to
her own private rooms. A whispered command sent her servants scurrying out, and caused the
richly carved doors to be shut behind them. Petrana seemed to be breathless. Was that from
the wine, or something more?
Wrong. Wrong. The intrusive thought had no words, but her own mind supplied them,
translating animal instinct into human language. This place is ours!
Shhh, she thought back. It's all right. Watch.
She brought Petrana over to her vanity and had her sit before the mirror. It was a Magister's
gift from long ago and offered a more perfect reflection than polished metal ever could.
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