Page 76 of The Kingdom of Flames

Much like her mercy to Lord Vermilion, the wretch of the Scarlet Banners of Spring, Celestine brought mercy and compassion to the places she visited that day. Among estates, she went among the slave quarters. There was a system of gentry and attendants who were free, but the “bonded” were little more than slaves.

She found houses of bonded men and women, most often separated. Many were from far lands, others were war captives, but many she found were neither. They had been born into bondage, and they had pedigree and paperwork to prove this. She questioned attendants, who were free and followed the path of the Yellow Banner, the ways of Lord Solis, whose lives were tightly controlled by their masters and wages fair. The slaves were paid in currency, but she found no tale of freedom earned or bought.

The most shocking thing for Celestine was not the conditions of their stay. For most places, these bonded men and women were well taken care of. They simply did not possess what everyone else had: the power of choice.

That afternoon, Celestine tended to the bonded. She wrapped wounds sustained in fields, for medicae were not common. She assisted them in their labors, hoping to ease their tasks. All was for naught, she felt as if she was fighting against a relentless ocean.

On the last estate of the Rosenthals, upon taking a tour (for all were glad to host the Final Bride of Calendar) she saw something that changed everything. The bonded peoples of the Rosenthal estate had better lodgings, good food, but something shifted in Celestine. The control of Lord Solis weakened as her outrage grew. The veil began to lift. She felt the flicker of her own fire and life, honed sharply by her time in Encarmine’s realm.

A little girl laughed and ran ahead of her mother. The young woman smiled at her daughter. When the girl turned, Celestine saw the collar and ring around her neck and wept. Many attempted to console her, but the bonded were confused as to what had given her offense.

Lord Solis found her sitting aside her carriage. She pushed him away when he came to her, snarling insults at him. Such things that no servant or nobleman would dare utter. But for all things, it was agreed. Lord Solis loved her. It was not the lash or the noose he returned her insults with, but his patience.

That evening, Celestine ate in morose silence. The table was eloquently set. The food tasted like a bitter lie. Her fatigue was so deep. As was her grief, that she knew dimly it bothered Tristien.

“What can I do?” Tristien asked.

Celestine looked at him, seeing him now. Despite their games and dynamic, she knew she did not know him fully. Not every depth. As the mist cleared in her mind and heart, she thought of Encarmine, of her home, of her father. Of the land that suffered in the Painted Realm from the warring Seasons, and that she could bring at least some form of stability, even if it was brutal, it would be a brutality that her people could learn to weather.

“Free them,” Celestine said. In all her weeks here, which felt like years, she was truly angry.

“Celestine… my realm is a delicate—”

“Free them.” Celestine stared at him. “All of them.”

Celestine stood at the table, pushing her chair back. She glanced at Aidric, Captain of Calendar, who always seemed missing unless she may need him.

He, at least, is known to me. He serves something greater than herself. That mask is a key that would spirit me from this place.

Tristien’s face, for the first time in her staying there, held the touch of fear. Fear of losing her. The fear of his masterpiece leaving. To see this weakness in him brought disdain in her heart for the first time.

You trade such a sin for your own comfort, Lord of Summer.

“A wedding gift…then.” Tristien nodded. “It will change so much. But your mercy, your beauty moves me—anything you ask is yours.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Lord Solis.” Celestine stared him down, not using the name he wore for her. Perhaps her heart was moved by his agreement. Or rather, her resentment could only duel with the craving she had for him.

I have a mind to leave, yet these people would still be in bondage.

“The handle is in my hand this evening,” Celestine did not sit. “Get to the bedroom. Now.”

Tristien stood, and he followed her to their shared chamber.

Still, I must know him fully, truly fully.

Chapter 15

Broken

Her time with Tristien was coming to an end. Yet she had made a vow, and would return after visiting the final Lord of Summer. What would it be like for the haze Yet she alsoThere was a small degree of influence she held over him. She saw it sometimes when the whip changed hands. To bind a god to their bed, to tug his spurting cock into her hand while he whimpered filled her with a seed of something false. A seed that grew.

When the lash tagged her skin, she began to wonder how it would look on Tristien’s. She wanted to see him flex against bonds. To hogtie him.

Yet Tristien took control again, and the haze she felt began to deepen. It staunched the facets of her soul. She felt like a stone watching the river float by, only wetted by the splash of his attention.

Love didn’t grow in her any longer. If any portion of it had been there, it was stifled now. Stomped out. The only thing present was lust and a deeper need for degradation. She sought to see what she could do to herself, and what she could do to him. It was fixation. Sometimes after she arrived, she hated him. Hated his need for control and how it infected her.

Tristien had allowed generations of slavery. There were banners in her own realm who were rumored to have done the same. But the opulence of his and his nobles lifestyle was sickening when she thought of who had wrought it.

---