LAVEN HEPHAESTUS ARVENALDI, II
M aivena waits to see if I will speak first or if she will have to.
She wraps the blue scarf tighter around her robe and shift before standing.
I hold up the bag of moss and she glances over it.
She shakes her head. “Even trade.”
“What exactly for?”
I hold the bag tighter to suppress the shaking of my hands. I did not think it would be this striking to see Maivena in the scarf, but it is. Maybe it is because she is happily wearing something that I picked out for her. On the other hand, perhaps the vision I had of her in this hits me better than I imagined. Either way, it is bliss.
“This,” she plays with the corners of the fabric wrapped around her.
Fuck.
“You told her,” I shoot down the bond to Roaner.
“Yes, I did.” He responds. “Leave me alone; I am busy.”
“Busy with the woman I smelled on you earlier?”
He does not answer.
Maivena picks up the lantern on the ground and walks forward. Staying at a distance, she looks over my face.
“I am sorry for what I said to you,” I can hear her deeply swallow. “I knew it would hurt you, and I regretted the words after I said them.”
“You do not have to give me an apology, I–”
“No, I do. I would not like it if I were you and you said it to me. So, I am sorry, I did not mean what I said.” She stares far into me as she says every word. The gaze does not falter; it does not move. She is solely focused on only me.
I smile. “Thank you, but I can only accept your apology if you take this back.” I walk closer, in desperate need to close this too wide space between us.
“You require it more than I do,” she holds her hand up, preventing me from handing it over.
“You think you do not need it until something happens, and you do. Besides, I spoke with Morano. He made sense in the reasons I should be returning this to you.” I do not know what I will do if any of what Morano said happens.
I would lose her. I know I would.
Maivena looks down at the bag and back up to me, a smile on her lips. I try not to step any closer, but I do.
“You are a High Prince,” she hums. “You were born to know how to lie well. So, lie about where you got this from as well. It is yours now,” her finger taps the knuckles of my hand holding the bag. I reach up, an instinct, a need to have back that short moment from days ago.
The moment our skin connects again, she takes in the way her hand slides into my palm.
This she is doing herself.
I am unsure of what to behold the longest; the trails her fingers draw as they move over my palm or the way her long curls fall around her face as she leans in.
Shivers migrate over my skin as she gets to my wrist; her thumb gently rolls over the healed cut from the Blood Bond Ritual.
“You are shivering,” she mumbles. “Would you like tea?” Her voice is smooth.
She is well aware that this tremble is not from the cool spring night; cold does not affect those who have shifted into their Wolf. Consistent heat is what always pours from my skin, especially now.
Before I can answer, her name is called from a distance. I think it is her father that is appearing, but it is not. Instead, it is one of our young Warriors. His walk is solid and leveled, it is the unwavering strength of a seasoned Warrior.
Just like before, that moment of her hand in my own is gone. She takes various steps backward.
He approaches within sight and stands next to Maivena.
A slight nod is given to me before he drifts to the woman next to him.
She looks up to him with a smile, one I have never seen. It is soft yet confident.
Her eyes are daring as he watches her. His scent is unavoidable.
Him. He is the male I have smelt on her before.
“Are you all right?” He lowly asks Maivena. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
He has the right mind to wish to stay with her. Although, I would like to kindly tell him to fuck off.
“I am fine,” she is sure as she tells him it is safe to leave her with me.
“Where were you earlier? Ethel was looking for you.” His accent courses through his words.
He is dark in skin and his black hair is closely cut to his scalp. As he talks, I can hear it in his tone, the way his voice deepens as he speaks. It is the same inflection that Maivena’s voice has when she says certain words. He is Quamfasian as well.
“I was on my way to the academy.” She answers. “Do you want to take tea with you?”
He shakes his head, gently knocking his knuckles against her chin and she smiles harder.
I will break that hand.
“I will come by later after I bathe.” He watches me for a moment before mumbling under his breath.
Maivena nods at whatever he said as he leaves.
He does not acknowledge me further before leaving, and walking down a path to a cottage not far from here.
“Well?” Maivena smiles. “Tea?”
“Yes,” because I have some fucking questions.
She turns on her heel, walking to the door of her small home. Her slippers are taken off outside the door, and I follow suit, unstrapping my boots before leaving them next to the others.
The only items in the house are a table, a cornered mattress that lays on the floor, a small fireplace, and chairs.
Her mother’s scarf is neatly folded and laid on the mattress sheets; next to it is the dress she wore this morning, the cloak, and the bow and arrow brooch.
The wood along the walls is wearing away. I examine the home more; the window is nearly broken, the fireplace is barely big enough for two logs, and the table in the middle of the room has deep cuts in it. I can tell that is where she cuts her food if she ever has the money to purchase any.
Is this truly what they live in?
“How do you get warm in the winter?” I continue to look around the tiny home.
Maivena quietly laughs. “I move the mattress in front of the fire; it is not all that horrible.”
An iron rod is used to pull the boiling teapot from the fire; she sets it down on the table before grabbing a pair of mitts to handle the pot. She pours the steaming water into a bowl, but not too much.
I observe everything she does. Her footsteps are quiet and light while moving delicately around the tiny home. She lifts open a large wooden trunk at the other side of the room, and grabs a glass jar containing tea leaves and another that holds honey.
I shift from foot to foot as past, sweet dreams attack my thoughts seeing the honey.
“Who was the man outside?”
“Kaden,” she announces.
“And he is your . . .” my words trail off as she looks at me.
Her eyes widen, almost dropping the jar in her hands. “Oh, no! Kaden is not whom you think; he is my cousin through marriage. He came with my father when he was looking for me; Kaden’s mate, Ethel, my cousin, was taken just before I was.”
“Did he find her?” I hesitantly ask.
She smiles. “Yes, Kaden will always find Ethel.” There is a slight giggle in her voice.
Maivena opens the jar filled with tea leaves. Two small scoops of the leaves are put into the steaming water, she allows it to steep while finding a small strainer.
“Can I help with anything?” Although, I have no idea what I would be doing.
“No, you may sit if you would like.” She nods to one of the empty chairs at the table.
“I am feeling a tad useless here.”
“Have you eaten?” She asks, still staring down at the bowl in front of her as she slowly stirs it.
“Not yet; I will eat when I return to the palace.”
I look at the middle of the table where a dish is covered with a cloth.
I cannot eat her food; that is the equivalence of stealing from the poor.
“Where is your father?”
She stops stirring and lifts the bowl, pouring the tea into small stone vessels. “He is on his way to Wanora with other members of the Mandem.”
I sit down as she approaches. “You will be alone tonight?”
“Yes,” she puts down a vessel in front of me before walking around the table and sitting. “I will be alone for however long he is gone, but not essentially. Kaden watches over me while my father is gone. Occasionally, both him and Ethel will come here, or I go to them.”
“And if Kaden were not here as well?”
“If Kaden were not here, I would most likely be dead.” I almost choke on the tea. She smiles and brings the tea to her lips, gently blowing on the steam.
I take another sip of the tea. “Dark humor.”
“Someone has to have a sense of dark humor in this world.” Her finger trails along the rim of the stone as her knees are pulled to her chest. “It is the last resort before complete distress.” The smile she had is gone. She seems lost as she looks down at her tea.
“If I stay, we play a game.”
She lifts her head. “What game?”
“Questions is all.” I lean on the table.
The corner of her lips edge upward. “Can we lie?”
I simper. “No, absolutely not.”
“Your game is no fun . . . but I will play.”
I chuckle, not daring to renege and give her the option of lying.
“Gentlemen first,” she smiles, waiting.
I sit here for a moment; Maivena sips her tea. “Wine or tea?”
“Wine. You?”
“Wine,” I nod in agreement. “Wine now?”
She grins. “Yes.”
Good, because I need it.
“I have quite the amount. My father makes it from the wild grapes in the fields. It is a bit stronger than your usual wine, but I think it tastes immeasurable compared to others.” Maivena stands from the table, heading to the trunk she retrieved the tea and honey from. The bottle is pulled out, and she grabs a wine opener. The pop of the cork leads after like music in my ears.
She opens a drawer in the table, pulling out two more small stone vessels.
“This has been aging for years; it may be strong.” She warns while handing me a cup.
It is strong, but not too strong—a smooth dry, just barely sweet, and a slight bite touches the back of my jaw.
Maivena’s eyes close as she sips the wine. Her cheeks begin to hint red as we sit here, drinking and saying nothing more.
I sit up. “Your question.” I nod for her to go on.
I reach for the dish of food sitting in between us. She hands me a fork, and I dig it into the mashed potatoes topped with tender venison and carrots.
“There is bread too; I made it all. Mrs. Patro allowed me to start a roast very early in the morning after I caught the deer.” She reaches in, taking my fork after I have stuffed my mouth.
So you are a skilled hunter.
She begins to eat next. The bread loaf is pulled from the linen, perfectly golden along the edges. It is already precut; she takes a slice, digging it into the potatoes and meat.
Her hand motions for me to try it, and I beam over her pure joy for food.
“What is your favorite food?” She asks.
“I am thinking this,” I nod to the addiction of bread with potatoes and deer.
Maivena grins. “I will let you know if I make it again.”
If only we can do this again.
I swallow. “My turn.”
As she waits for my question she remains eating.
“Why have you not shifted into your Wolf yet?”
I figure this question will stump her, but it does not.
We take more sips of the intoxicating wine; she lets her food digest before answering.
Stilly, she speaks. “I suppress her.”
“How? She is you, half of you, if not all of you.” How do you suppress who you are?
Her voice goes low. “Contraception.”
“Why would you do that?”
This entire time she has been preventing her Wolf from taking form. There is nothing wrong with her; she is doing this herself. I have heard of others doing this, but there are complications when taking contraception such as that.
“What advantages do I have here shifting into my Wolf? I am not a Warrior; I do not need her for strength. But, despite that, I do believe it is possible to have strength without her. There is no nobility here for me, nothing. Transforming into her brings me nothing here.”
“What of your mate?”
She tries to hide the sadness in her eyes as she peers upward. “That is not in the cards for me either.”
“Do you not care to find him?”
Seeing the expression her face holds makes me afraid of the answer she will give me, almost as if I already know the answer. Yet, I have to hear her say it. I will not torture myself with constant guessing with her. If she is willing to tell me and be honest with me, I will ask her as many questions as possible.
She is slow to respond. She takes another sip of wine and reaches for the fork. “There would be nothing I could do about it,” she pauses, her lips parting to speak. “So, no. I would not wish for that since there is no chance of me being allowed to be more than just a bed chambermaid to a King.”
I say nothing more, ignorant of how many more questions I can handle the responses to.
“I want to ask something now.” Our eyes meet as she speaks. “Is that why you are here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have riches. You are among the most attractive in Vaigon. Yet, you are never seen publicly with women. Many high people come here in search of a servant to . . . impress. A servant to provide things for them such as intimacy of all sorts, and in return they are granted wealth and a form of freedom. Is that why you are here?”
I reach for the bottle of wine and pour more into the vessel, almost right to the brim. Then, I stretch across the table, filling hers as well.
“Is that something you would be intrigued by?”
Almost half of the wine in my vessel is gone within one sip.
“With you?”
“Yes, me. Only me.”
If this will be the only way for me to have her in all forms of intimacy, I will do this if she agrees.
She nods. “Yes.” The vessel is brought to her lips, and she takes a long drink.
I voraciously gape at her throat, watching as she swallows the wine.
“What would you want?”
“Whatever you would want.” Her tone is that of a vibration. “When?” She inquires. I gaze at her lips—a soft pink flushing a deeper red at the kiss of wine.
I lean further in on the table. “Now,” I breathe.
“What of conditions?”
“We will devise a contract later.”
Maivena gasps at the force of speed I move at. As quick as ascending, I am around the table, standing in front of her chair. She sits up straighter as I get to my knees in front of her and lean back against my heels.
Her breath catches as I trail my hand up her leg. “Am I not supposed to be the one doing this first?”
Her skin is soft under my touch, tender against the calluses on my hands.
“Not with me, you do not.”
I reach upward, slipping her robe down her shoulders and it catches in the curve of her arm, falling right over the scarf.
The trim of her night shift is lined in lace; the peak of her nipples tease the white fabric.
A groan pulls from the depths of my chest as I lean in to press my lips to her neck. Her hand reaches out, catching my chin and lifting my head.
“Kiss me,” she touches the bow of my lip as I sit up on one knee, our noses just nearly leveled as she sits in front of me.
Grasping the back of her legs and tugging her forward her hand rests on my shoulder as her legs lift to wrap around my waist.
The feeling of her wrapped around me is safe—I am warm and succulently held.
There is a smile pulling onto her face. I can hear the sound of every breath she takes, and let’s go. Her scent is welcoming, comforting, and sensual. But most of all, it is familiar, a fragrance explicitly made for me.
Maivena bends further in. Everything within me is begging to be closer, to feel her flesh against mine.
Our lips are grazing. They play, never fully touching, slight caresses.
“Maivena,” I beg.
I venture, finding my way under her shift. Her skin heats at the connection of my fingers to her thighs; I unearth the swell of her hip and squeeze.
“Not yet. I want to savor you.” With each word, I quiver.
The bit of self-control I have left is crumbling, just nearly gone.
Her quiet breath comes out in a low moan, barely audible as I knead at her hips.
She scoots closer, edging the end of the old chair that creaks with every move.
As the tip of her tongue ever so lightly touches my lips, I grip the edge of the chair, willing away the voice I hear creeping down the bond.
“Laven!” I flinch as Amias shouts, crashing through the barrier I try to build.
Maivena intakes a sharp breath. She looks at me, eyes filled with worry. “I am sorry,” she speaks just as Amias and Morano force their words through.
I cannot keep up with them and her at once.
She unravels her legs, and I try to hold them in place while managing the multiple voices.
“Shut up! One at a fucking time!” I yell over them both.
They quiet quickly.
Maivena watches me. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I answer, realizing the timing of this intrusion. “It is not you. Amias and Morano are trying to speak to me.” It takes a moment to register, but she comprehends, nodding. I stand, leaning back against the table. She reaches for the vessel of wine, sipping more of what is leftover.
“We have been trying to get you to answer the past fifteen minutes!” Morano says agitatedly.
“I have been occupied; did you not consider it? What do you want?” I snap.
“All right, you two hotheads, calm down.” Amias interjects before it can escalate. “We have been trying to reach you because the Duke of Gordanta sent out a messenger. There is another Warrior from Xenathi roaming; he was terrorizing the land. Lorsius has moved on from Gordanta to Partalos to handle other matters. Either way, this is a job for us, not your uncle. He would manage it horribly if it were in his hands.
“The Duke is calling for us immediately, but especially you. You will arrive before us; we will be gathering my father and your mother to come back here and keep the land under control while we are gone.”
Maivena stands from the chair, and I reach out, taking her hand in mine. I pull her forward, causing her to collide into me, a smirk tugs onto our faces. I play with the thin strap of her shift and the robe and scarf still hang, gathered in the nook of her arms.
“Is he even listening?” Morano cuts in.
“Doubtful,” Amias responds. There is a hint of playfulness behind his tone.
I hold my finger up as Maivena goes to speak.
“Yes, I am listening. I heard every word you said.” I say aloud.
Her head tilts as she inquisitively stares at me.
“Why are you speaking out loud?” Amias asks.
“Because,” I sharpen my tone. “You are ruining everything for me right now. I will be there soon to get the rest of the details.” Just as they try to speak again, I block them, putting up a wall none of them have learned how to break.
Maivena continues to stare, and those bosky orbs rake over my face.
“We have somewhere to go,” I finally speak to her.
Her eyebrows furrow. “Who?”
“Us, you and me.”
“Where?” She instantaneously questions.
“Gordanta, our Western Court. I will be back here soon; Amias and Morano are waiting for me.” She flinches as I ascend from the small cottage, leaving the bag of moss at the foot of the chair I sat in.
* * *
I find Amias and Morano in the dining hall; they both are eating at the long table lit in candles and lined with varieties of food.
Morano holds a smirk as I approach, I try to be as stealth and unreadable as Roaner, but sometimes it seems nearly impossible.
“Hello,” Amias casually acknowledges me.
“What else is there to know?” I ask.
He smiles. “Well, whoever is roaming Gordanta seems to be playing at a game. Duchess Lorena saw him; the second she chased after him, he ascended and then reappeared. He was playing at this consistently for minutes until finally vanishing. They have not traced him since. Our Warriors were sent out to locate him, but it is nearly impossible. He does not leave a scent, not a trail, nothing.
He is just taking them on unending chases. This is all too close together, Laven. Finding Warriors from Xenathi roaming and terrorizing.”
“They are not attacking,” Morano adds. “If they are not attacking, it is unclear of what it is they are doing here, how they are crossing or when they crossed through. Roaner said he will not remove the shield until they are found.”
“We all go,” I nod. “I will go tonight. I am sure Carmen and Lorena will be expecting me to be there soon. You two wait until my mother and Axynth are back to control these grounds, have Alexanti take the place of my mother, and guard Vuamsati Academy.” I button the sleeves of my undershirt, thinking of anything else we may need in place before my mother returns.
“And what of Maivena?” Amias asks.
I button my other sleeve. “She is coming with me tonight.”
Morano smirks. “Coming with you, how?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Do not,” I warn.
“Wait, how are you arranging this?” Amias probes.
“In my own way,” I ascend from the dining hall and to the kitchen, finding Mrs. Patro cleaning off the wooden countertop.
“Ah, Laven! Darling, how are you?” She quickly approaches, leaning in she kisses both of my cheeks.
I smile. “I am good. How are you?”
“Fine as usual. Are you hungry?” She props a hand on her hip. “I did not see you at the dinner table.”
“Oh, I ate.” I press my hand to my stomach. “I was just wondering, Maivena; she is a servant here. I believe you are familiar with her?”
“I am,” the smile that appears on her face proves it. “What about her?”
“I need a basket of food put together. May you do that for me?”
Her smile holds as she responds. “I consider I may.”
* * *
When I arrive back at Maivena’s, I knock on the unsecured wooden door before opening it. She is sitting at the table in the same place, eating more bread and food in the dish.
I walk towards the table and she stands as I set the large basket down. Lifting it open—her face beams as she sees all of the goods in it.
It seems Mrs. Patro also knows all of Maivena’s favorite foods.
“When can you be ready?”
“What do you mean?” She looks up. “I cannot go with you. I do not have anything to wear.”
I inhale deeply. “Maivena, you have clothing to wear. It is just up to you if you will wear them. Unless you would like for me to put coin in your hand, you agree to it being yours, and you pay the seamstress yourself.”
She cuts her eyes at me.
“Wait outside,” she waves to the door, shooing me away. “I will wear what I wore this morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I leave her to give the privacy she requires.
As I wait outside by the door, far out, I see two Wolves playing under the Moon; their play is gentle and daring. The way they move around one another, it is easy to tell they are paired.
Soon, the door is tugged open. I notice her hair is done the way it was earlier. Half contained up in a braid with curls falling around her face.
The bow and arrow brooch holds her cloak together. I reach out, centering it just a bit.
I motion forward. “Do not forget the basket.”
She has cleaned the table; a small note is sitting in the placement of the bread and dish previously there. I know she is leaving it for her father, Kaden, and Ethel. Although, I am certain Kaden is located somewhere outside of this cottage waiting for me to walk away.
Maivena grabs the basket off of the table, and I take it from her.
“We do not need anything other than this?”
“No, I have a home in Gordanta that I built not long ago, Fonavyn House. The seamstress there will most likely have clothing hanging for you.”
I witness the protest forming on her lips.
“You do not get to deny this anymore,” I say before her lips part. “Not after you agreeing to this arrangement,” I remind her.
“We do not have conditions set,” she reminds me as well.
“Shall you go naked?” I suggest.
“Yes, if you do.”
I chuckle and grab her hand. She yelps, latching onto my arm as I ascend from the step of her cottage.
“A forewarning would be appreciated next time!” Maivena beseeches.
She looks around us, admiring the movement of night shifting by. Wisps of white glow as I move higher into the sky.
That rapturing smile reappears.
“It is the stars,” she mumbles.
“Reach out your hand.” I urge her.
She is hesitant, but she does. White wisps swirl around her finger as we glide through nightfall.
“You should have ascended first with me.”
She does not respond. Her hand that is still held in mine tightens.
That is answer enough for me. She knows it too.
Her fingers that played with the stars are back on my arm, firmly holding.
I wonder if she, after all these years, has thought of me as I have of her.
We land at the castle gates of Gordanta; the stone palace sits near the water, lit in its magical candles. Maivena peers around, looking at the waves crashing upon the shore just under the moon and stars.
Guards approach the gates, and I can see Maivena’s chin dipping.
“Look at me.” Her eyes lift, green and submissive, not the woman I knew just moments ago. “You will look every person here in their eye, make it known that you deserve respect. Find the royal you were before being brought here; that is the only woman I will allow these people to know.”
The gates pull open, and there is a square her shoulders form. Her chin does not dare to fall again.
