Chapter 46: Chapter 45

After - at least from her perspective - a humiliating defeat at the hands of the three Sisters, Estaria got out of her war-garb and back into her normal clothes so as not to stand out so much, and then got back to her work of moving and setting up. Filnon had a lovely little house of her own, nothing spectacular but better than what she had before. A large bed that would comfortably fit both of them - something that made Estaria raise a suspicious eyebrow - and a decent wardrobe to fit a lot of lovely clothes that Filnon was no doubt going to get and dress Estaria up in in the future.

 

Somehow, that idea didn’t really bother her too much. The idea had been tickling her since the day Filnon had done exactly that with the hair and makeup and outfit…Gah! Her brain was all over the place recently! Living a high octane lifestyle of murder and bloodshed was really riling her, and she couldn’t think properly. Plus there was that promise of including Filnon more in the love she had for people, and the quickly dawning realization that even if they did take over Naggarond, it would take them years to accomplish. And they were more likely going to just die. 

 

To ease all this stress, she finished up here and then went outside and found her way to The Arena. There was a lot of prep needed to slip another person into an already prepared fight, so she was waiting in the training room for an hour before they finally got back to her. The Gladiators here were a lot better trained, equipped, and capable than the ones back where Filnon last lived. She was not kidding when she mentioned arenas beyond their wildest dreams. 

 

Standing at the gate in her sultry leather uniform and gauntlets, she got some looks from her partners, some sniggers, and one or two cat-calls. She felt an urge to mess with them, but eventually held it in and just waited for the gate to open. Wasn’t a fight to the death, but to surrender or unconsciousness, so she could restrict herself and play a bit more. Gate opened, a dozen well-armed Gladiators came out from the other side, and Estaria took off like a lightning bolt.

 

The partners closed in behind, and were surprisingly good at sliding Estaria into their party. It was a bloody massacre, and she could see a woman in a VIP Box get a cold and hostile stare from the outcome. Clearly there were some bets that had gone south with her sudden inclusion. One of the enemy was a lot better than the rest, so this game was possibly even fixed and she had destroyed all sorts of plans.

 

“Here’s hoping. I could use a good workout” she muttered, following the Gladiators back into their spot, washing off the grime of battle, and then leaving. As fun as it was, she should probably make sure Filnon was settling in fine. Didn’t work out like that however, as ten minutes into her casual meander back home, a well-dressed Druchii appeared before her. White name, so clearly not a Lord or anything like that, but definitely seemed to have an upper-class air about him.

 

“The Lady of Har Garath requests your presence” the courtier would comment. By the tone, it was clear that ‘request’ meant ‘come immediately’ but Estaria still needed to question.

“I…should, someone tell my mist-” Estaria would then pause and stand shocked at herself. So casually about to call Filnon her Mistress. Which, to be fair that was exactly what she was, but still…

 

“Mistress. About, my, visit?” Estaria would stutter out, feeling somewhere between shocked and delighted to be saying such a thing. Her body was all aquiver, jittering with nervous energy as she tried to deal with her thoughts on the situation.

“We shall dispatch a runner” the courtier would reply, a clipped tone to his voice as if irritated at even a minor delay.

“Then please, lead on” she would state.

 

The next hour was rough. Of course, meeting a powerful head of the state in her current garb was a massive faux pas, but they didn’t have to be so rough about it. Getting her washed by a pair of soft-handed bath slaves, hair styled and puffed up, and then put in a low-cut dress that made her feel like she actually belonged in a Court. A tight silk underskirt pressed her legs together, and a corset pulled in her waist to cut a much more comely figure. Ladies took dainty steps and had slim waists, she was told, and so this would help her look the part as much as the dress would. 

 

Her slave brand and collar were still on show, so nobody could mistake her nature and position, but to just glance at her would be to see a Noblewoman of renown. She hoped they let her keep the dress, though probably…not. 

 

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Entering into the court, she would see a dozen people gathered around a high-stepped throne. They were powerful individuals, yellow and light orange, but the spookiest part was the woman atop the throne.

 

Hellebron - Blood Queen of Har Ganeth

 

A crimson red name, but one that seemed to be dripping with blood rather than just a colour. That kind of fancy effect was quite incredible to see, and along with the title, quite intimidating to boot, so she would give her best curtsey at the foot of the throne.

 

“I am deeply honoured by your summons, Your Majesty” Estaria would speak, staying dipped low and waiting for the words.

“Such a pretty child” the heavily cloaked woman on the throne spoke, in a haggard and raspy tone. She would then raise from her throne and descend, reaching out to grab Estaria’s head and pull it up to meet her ancient and worn eyes. “You are like a tornado in my fair city, destroying order with your presence” 

 

News travelled fast, it seemed, and Estaria dipped her eyes since she could not bow her head right now. Estaria wasn’t sure how to deal with this, so just went for the brutal honesty of the situation. It helped with the terror of being in the Queen’s grasp, a subconscious feeling that they were only a second away from a sudden and brutal death at her hands. 

“I am sorry for barging into the arena like that, Queen Hellebron. I….was bored” 

 

The courtiers behind her, watching and shuffling about, fell silent. Hellebron too, seemed to freeze for a few seconds, and Estaria held her breath waiting for a killing blow.

 

And then there was laughter. Old, wheezing, crooked laughter. It started at Hellebron, and then swept across the court, infecting even the guards and servants around. 

“Such a delight. This city will be all the better for your presence. How much shall I pay you for her?” Hellebron asked the second part of that to someone behind Estaria, letting go of her and walking past. 

 

Estaria would turn around and her breath caught in her throat. Filnon was there, but dressed like she had never seen her before. A high pony tail put her pointy ears on show, and a long, elegant skirt contrasted with the sultry bodice that showed a lot more of her torso than it covered. A gilded belt of sorts held some kind of Druchii rune, and gold-etched forearm guards completed the ensemble of a rich and powerful Witch. She was so beautiful, Estaria couldn’t think, could barely keep her strapped knees from knocking together. 

 

“Your offer flatters me, Great Crone” Filnon would speak, circling with Hellebron a few times in some kind of ceremonial greeting, before breaking off to walk up to Estaria and gently take hold of her chin. “But there are no riches or boons in this world that would ever replace this one in my heart” Filnon would then finish off the claim by planting a deep kiss on Estaria’s lips. Murmurs of the court filled the room, but Hellebron seemed not to take offence to it.

 

“Then I shall merely extend a hand. Whenever you need it, we shall shelter your beloved human pet” Hellebron would return to her throne, and gesture to the door. “May your stay in my city be fruitful. We shall weather the coming storm, together”

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