Page 100 of The Kingdom of Flames

Her tendons were more limber here, from bending and rising, from walking among the plains. Her ligaments were constantly shifting, adjusting. The colors of the plain were vast, bright, and filled her soul with their reflection as she walked. There was a different strength here within her. Not one born of the brunt of a shield, the exertion of combat, nor the strength to withstand pain or lash.

In its magnificence, the body adapted to what she needed and used it for. This strength was one of flexibility, of balance, and of speed.

“Come, let us stretch by the fireside.” Azure beckoned her up as dinner cooked in a black kettle above the flames.

It was the last thing Celestine wanted to do, so she did it.

“The body shies away from our labor, but we have to coax it, like we do Garo, into what it can become, not what it wants to.”

If you say so.

The bruise on her ass felt much different from this philosophy. But she knew Azure would not lead her astray. She trusted him.

He bent low, walking his hands along the ground back into himself. His spine flexing, his muscles elongating, and then returning. She did the same. Then they crouched, keeping their heels and palms of their hands to the ground, staring at one another.

He is lovely. They all are. Yet he is so different.

Celestine smiled, feeling her hips open, her shoulder blades spread. For a moment, a blessed moment, the pain ceased.

“Now we fall,” Azure murmured, and he crouched low, bringing his head to his ankles. “Feel your body.”

She followed suit, and the stretch against her seized tendons was intense, but it was a slow rope straining.

“Roll your neck,” Azure said. She watched him, rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder, round circles like the bright moon above them.

She winced, a spasm jolting in her neck. Azure noticed.

“May I help you?” he asked.

Celestine sat back on her rear. She nodded.

“That is enough for today. Your body will thank you.”

What if I want your body to thank me?

She had broken the wall that had been built around her. Garo had seen to that. She knew what Azure had wanted to teach her. It had come from her throat this very day as the sweet laughter, the pure joy of the speed upon the plain, had engulfed her.

Laughter.

Celestine was a woman, not a young bride, fretful and afraid. Encarmine had taken her, and she him, as had Tristien. Even in that travesty, she had ownership. There was a handle, a form now, to her own lust. People in the Painted realm considered women to be wanton and shrews when unwatched. Unable to contain themselves. Which was absurd. But in that gross miscalculation, society stifled their genuine desire and needs. You could never be alone with a man because you would seduce him. People could not trust you because they believed you were sin incarnate.

Not here. Not among the Seasons of Summer. She knew her body and her soul. When she was hungry, she ate. When she thirsted, she drank. When she tired of running, she walked. Even Tristien had never regarded her own desire that way. It was a living thing, a part of her, not to be denied. Not owned or subjugated.

Azure sat behind her as she warmed herself by the fire. She undid the ties along her shirt and drew it from her, sitting bare-chested by the flames. In the mornings, she dressed near him. She was no longer ashamed or even aware of her nudity, or when she squatted among the plain or cleaned herself with the streams and grass. They were in nature, and you did what was natural in nature.

His long legs sat astride either side of her. Azure’s muscled chest touched her back briefly before he leaned back, and his large hands worked at the clusters of spasms in her back, in her neck. Knot after spasm flared under his touch, but his gift was reading her. Knowing her. What she needed.

What she wanted.

Azure rode the knots down under his fingertips. The muscles coiled, avoiding further injury.

Just like me. But he finds them. He brings them forth.

The campfire warmed her front. Slowly, the tension in her neck released itself under his attentive massaging. He was firm, direct, but caring. Gentle.

“Thank you,” Celestine whispered.

Azure worked on the muscles between her neck and shoulder. “Will you ride tomorrow?”

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