Page 56 of The Kingdom of Flames

The price beneath the surface.

“Put it on,” Tristien’s voice was rough. Sharp.

Celestine’s hands trembled. This was no thing of beauty.

Nothing opulent or lovely.

It was a collar.

Chapter 11

A Fastened Gift

When Tristien placed the collar around her neck, she felt like every candle in the castle grew dimmer.

No, not the collar.

Her collar.

“Beautiful,” he said.

It did not feel beautiful. The collar was rough, the metal cold. He looped a long ribbon of thick silk through it, then led her to the wall.

“This ends any time you wish, Celestine.” Tristien kissed her neck. “But you will never wish it. Come, for I will court you in ribbon and rope. You will learn me by lash and strike.”

“Tristien…” Celestine felt a wave of uncertainty… but there was more. She wanted to know more.

“Yes, my love?”

I have been in a battle. I’m made of sterner stuff now.

Celestine smiled. “Court me.”

Tristien smiled, and the hunger in his eyes excited her and filled her with terror. A long dagger flashed in his hands, and as he cut her gown off of her, he whispered, “To appreciate beauty, you will serve it.”

The artistry that had adorned her all evening fell from her. Tristien swept the blade expertly, like a tailor. The masterpiece of stitching fell in heaps on the ground.

Then her shift, and when his blade kissed her, it was the loveliest trace of danger. The silken cloth fell from her slowly, one last stitch breaking under the weight of what he had ravaged, the weight of it breaking itself open under his watchful eye.

Her shoulders, her breasts, everything was exposed. Despite the wine, despite the evening, despite it all—she covered her mound and breasts with opposing hands.

“Don’t do that,” Tristien ordered. His voice was a whiplash, and her hands slid slowly away.

He held her chin in his hand, staring into her eyes. Magic, the essence of him, hummed in the air. He was summer incarnate, not the dust of war, but the beauty of the skies and lakes. His eyes were the first breath of fresh air when you ran into the fields with your friends.

“Now you shall know me.”

Celestine wanted him to touch her. To reach down. But his eyes glowed, and the room shifted in his sorcery.

A yellow ribbon as wide as her hand and slim as a sigh slithered out from his hand. It looped down, circling her ankle in a spiral, spiraling up her leg. The feeling of an invasion was rapturous.

“Tristien,” Celestine exclaimed. But he only watched her, another ribbon sliding from his other hand and slipping up her other thigh. The sensation was as overwhelming as it was sudden. The streamers slithered further up, faster now, circling across her waist, her chest, all along her shoulders, and down to her wrists.

“Do you feel my embrace?” he asked.

She couldn’t speak. The ribbons were the softest thing she had ever felt. Then, the tightest. Everything was bound; she was a striped lance, encased in his colors of summer. Celestine was powerless under their binding, and she shuddered as they flexed and slid like a living creature on her.

Tristien stood back, marveling at her ensnarement.

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