Page 61 of The Kingdom of Flames

“Gods, what I’d give to have Lord Solis’s razor upon my thighs. My husband shears me once a year, which he calls our harvest.” Lapis laughed, throwing another bundle down. “He says he loves the sight of it. We are a people of labor and harvest in all things. You saw Lord Solis nude?”

Celestine nodded. "He is… magnificent.”

Lapis smiled. “Most women here would cut your throat for a chance of a night in his bedchambers. I’m glad you are serving him well. I labored for a full month before Donal took me, and by the end of that season, I was his wife.”

“Is this the way of this place? Women are servants and chattel? It’s a strange courtship.”

Lapis laughed. “You have much to learn of the Yellow Banner, my dear Celestine. This is our way of devotion, but it might surprise you Lord Solis is a fair master. Those that abuse or go beyond the means of touch are sent from his realm or imprisoned. Lovers devote themselves to one another. They labor. My husband labors for me when the time is right. I don’t grow wet at the sight of his aged body unless it’s glazed with sweat or his eyes are weary from the road and traveling on business for us. The poor man.”

They continued working. Scythes rose and fell. Commoners handing bundles of wheat to the gentry of their land. The words of Tristien came back to her, of one side of the wheel imitating the other.

Lapis nodded to the dais. “You are a real beauty. He enjoys watching you.”

Celestine turned. Tristien was laughing and dining with the other noblemen. “He isn’t even looking.”

“Of course he is. He hasn’t said when he will take you?”

“Not yet,” Celestine answered. She grabbed another bundle. “Though, I want him to.”

“I’m sure Encarmine was a ferocious lover, but no one will break you like Lord Solis. He won’t batter the castle wall down, he’ll erode it. Until it begs to crumble.”

Celestine continued her work. Other women brought bundles and helped load the cart as another came up. Lapis stopped to grab a waterskin from the cart and held it out to Celestine.

She reached out to take it, then stopped. Celestine turned and looked at Tristien.

“May I have some water, Tristien?” she called out to him.

Tristien regarded her, then nodded. If this game was to be played, she would do her part. She took the waterskin and drank deeply, the day’s labor and exhaustion sliding away from her as the cool liquid parched her throat.

She gasped, choking as it went down roughly. Some water spilled out of her mouth.

A nobleman, a younger one whom she had seen at the feast, laughed loudly. You could hear he was far more intoxicated than the other men.

“She might need some practice swallowing, Lord Solis!” the young man laughed.

“Come now.” Lapis grabbed her and turned her way. Celestine struggled for a moment to turn, but Lapis held her tight. “Don’t look.”

The sound of the strike was sudden, like the air rending itself apart. There was a commotion on the dais. The young man’s laughter turned into grunts and gurgles.

“Please, Lord Solis,” Donal’s voice rang out. “He is a fool and new to the reins. Spare his life.”

Celestine bent low, grabbing another bundle a woman had just finished tying. When she turned, she saw the young man at the foot of the ground, thrown from the dais, his body shaking.

Tristien stared at the man fallen from the platform. “Never speak of Lady Celestine again.” The words grew louder as Celestine walked towards the cart, pretending to ignore what was going on.

Tristien leapt down from the dais, standing over the man. He held the long studded handle of bone out to the groaning man’s face.

“She will not enter your sight, nor your tongue again. Not in compliment, in praise, in error. Do you understand me, you fucking worm?”

The man groaned. “Yes, Lord Solis. I apologize—I apologize to Lady Celestine.”

Celestine saw the handle of the whip slam down onto the man’s thigh. He shrieked. “Not in apology. Not in praise. Her name does not exist for you. The brightest and final star in the sky does not move for the likes of you.” Tristien turned, his face furious and dark. The same darkness she had seen the first night when she opened the box and took his collar.

“Get him out of my sight,” Tristien snarled to two bonded men. They stepped forward and grabbed the young aristocrat, carrying him away in a series of groans.

Celestine had seen battle. She had witnessed true violence where lives were at stake and—even worse, where lives were lost. Encarmine’s cruelty had only risen when Vermilion dared capture her. Though the words had been disgusting, Tristien’s response was a different intensity. She wouldn’t put it past him to snatch the eye of a wayward glance out of someone’s skull.

Encarmine’s love had been a noble pursuit of her, even if a dangerous one. Tristien’s was a slower courtship, a crueler one that she felt in the labor of her body now, here in the sun. It was like when he had cut her shift from her. He would pare away at the support until the very weight of existing would break that which he laid siege to.

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