Page 21 of Consort

When I’ve had my fill, I drain my third glass of wine, welcoming the numbness that settles over me. I have a feelingI’ll need it for what’s coming after my bath. I’m well aware of what a consort is. I know what will be expected of me. The thought makes the meal churn in my stomach and anger burn inside me. But I have to play along if I want any of this to be worth something.

As soon as I lean back from the table, Folas appears and grunts at me to stand. I trail behind him out of the fancy hall, fully aware of the guards who casually follow after us. As we walk, I memorize every detail of each long corridor we pass through. I need to be able to find my way around this castle without having to rely on others.

The walls of each corridor are distinctly decorated, which will make them easier to remember. The first one is lined with white tapestries, covered in gray depictions of the high fae who live in the realm. The fae are, of course, exalted above the other species in the gruesome scenes. I only need to recognize the look of the corridor, not every grisly detail. I turn away from the images of shifters, elves, and kelpies being slaughtered and humiliated by the fae.

The second hallway we pass through is lined with skins of furry lesser fae creatures, while the third is adorned with carvings of Faerie’s various landscapes. They’re beautiful, but carved in white wood, they look like an omen of the realm’s future if the queen stays in control.

At the end of the third hallway, I see two guards stationed outside a tall, wooden door. One guard opens it and steps back to let us through while the other leads us inside. I follow Folas into a plush and surprisingly colorful bedroom. It’s spacious and oddly inviting, with a fire crackling in the stone fireplace and thick, vibrant furs draped over the bed. There’s a seating area with a table and two chairs and a small window overlooking a white stone patio at the back of the castle.

It’s a welcome change from the rest of the cold, lifeless castleI’ve seen so far. Perhaps the depressing decor has been too hard on her consorts over the years, and she’s had to make adjustments.

“The bathing chamber is through there,” Folas says haughtily, pointing at another doorway.

As I enter the room, I find two silver-haired fae in light gray tunics tending to a steaming tub in the center of the room. Many of the fae I’ve seen today have silver hair. I wonder if it’s a sign of servitude in the castle. It’s as if she’s had them glamoured to blend in with the dull castle walls.

Folas glares at me from the doorway. “Don’t get any ideas,” he warns. “The queen is more powerful than you could ever imagine. You might be able to catch her off guard for a second, but it would be the last second of your life. You’d die painfully, along with everyone from whatever pathetic little village you came from.”

My chest aches at the thought of causing my village’s slaughter. I’ll have to be very cautious moving forward. I can’t put innocent lives at risk just to potentially save others. Folas has gotten to me, just as he wanted, but I won’t let him see it. I feel no power coming from him, and I don’t even know what his role is here. He is no one, and I won’t let him mistakenly believe he has any control over me. I stare at him aloofly before turning my gaze back to the tub.

“I’ll be waiting in your chambers to present you to the queen,” he says. “I have no desire to be here for this.”

He strides out the door, taking some of my anger with him. Good. I don’t want him here, either. I don’t wantanyonein here. I just need a moment to collect myself. But it doesn’t seem I’ll be getting one as I’m left with two fae staring up at me expectantly, waiting for me to disrobe.

I feel a gentle pat on my back, then watch as a red-spotted bark beetle scurries out of the room. I whisper a warning forFarris to be careful as he makes his way through the castle. I know he can’t stay here with me. I just hope he gets out unseen.

I sigh as I drop my clothes and step into the bath. I’m not shy about my body. Fae rarely are. But it feels quite different standing bare before someone when it’s not by choice. It makes me feel dominated. And angry. But not at these fae. I doubt they want to be here, either.

This is just the first of many uncomfortable experiences I’ll have to face in this role. There’s nothing I can do but accept it if I want hope of taking anyone in this place down.

The two fae step up onto a ledge behind the tub to reach me better. They look very similar, telling me they’re likely related. One wears a sterner expression. The other is younger and seems a little more relaxed.

“Please remain standing as we bathe you,” the younger fae says.

“May I wash myself?” I ask, hoping I can at least hold onto that dignity.

“No, no, Your Highness,” the older one says, shaking her head firmly. “We have a strict routine that you won’t be able to keep up with.”

Your Highness?I supposed that’s the right way to address a consort. It feels wrong, though, like I’m on the queen’s side somehow.

“You may wash your own ears,” she says.

Thank fuck for that. Fae ears are sensitive. It’s too easy to become aroused when they’re touched, even by those you have no interest in.

I cooperate. They’re only doing what they’ve been commanded. They scrub me from head to toe with scratchy cloths, far from the luxury I’d expected. My balls are sensitive and raw by the time they’re done. My poor cock looks like I lost control of my heat magic while trying to pleasure myself. But atleast my ears are spared.

Despite the physical discomfort, these fae have been swift and as respectful as possible. Obviously, their touch won’t be the most offensive thing I encounter this evening. I begin to relax as they apply oils to my skin, soothing the rawness away. The scents are actually quite pleasant. And the way they scratch my scalp with their nails is oddly satisfying. I feel my body relax, and I let my thoughts slip away, pretending to have a moment to myself.

I’m snapped out of my haze when the older fae lifts my arms, and the younger one slathers cream underneath them.

My mind struggles to catch up. Do I really smell that bad after all that scrubbing? But before I can fully process what’s happening, they’ve already swiftly shaved each area, leaving my skin oddly smooth and unfamiliar.

And Ihateit.

My body was mostly smooth already, except for my underarms and the curls on my groin. I liked how I looked. Why did they need to remove it? When I feel a tug on the hair at the base of my cock, I jump out of the tub, nearly slipping on the cold stone floor.

“Can’t I just glamour it away?” I ask, surprising myself with how desperate I am to keep it.

The two fae exchange a look. I feel a stab of embarrassment at my juvenile behavior. But it doesn’t matter how silly I look to them. I don’t want to lose this part of myself. It’s mine.

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