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From: nostrumo@nienor.s.bawue.de (Nostrumo)
Subject: TG: "Milady's Wiles"   by Brandy Dewinter  (15/22)
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Hi.

  This is the latest story of Brandy DeWinter. A story about war and
the casualties of war.

  As always: I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim to it. If
you have some useful hints or some good comments, your mail is welcome.
Flames, you know, will be piped to /dev/null.

  If you are an author and wish to remain anonymous or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands
for story postings and for nothing else.

Enjoy the story.

Ciao
	Nostrumo

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Milady's Wiles
by Brandy Dewinter


Chapter 15 - Winterfair Night

     News travels fast in a small community and by the time I had descen-
ded from the high balcony to the hallway near my quarters it was not a 
question of whether Mother had heard of our very-public kiss, but how 
many times.  My feet had barely been touching the flagstones as I descen-
ded the stairs.  My cheeks were rosy with more than the cool air, my eyes 
alight with more than the bright sun.  Then I saw Mother standing at the 
doorway to her chambers that I must pass on the way to my own.  If I had 
been thinking of more than myself, I would have expected it.  As it was, 
surprise died before I hardly had a chance to recognize it.  At least, 
surprise at seeing her and the look of concern on her face.  I was sur-
prised though, to see Julia standing with her as they obviously waited 
for me to come by.

     I could have done without seeing Julia right then.  In all my life I 
had never met anyone more beautiful.  She was warm and caring, but strong 
enough to use her lightning wit and razor tongue when her sense of right 
and wrong was violated.

     And I had violated it.  We had worded no promises between us, but 
our nights sleeping in each other's arms had brought us close enough that 
no words should have been needed.  Our kisses had stirred my heart and my 
blood to levels that made all previous intimacies fade into distant 
memory.  

     Yet, almost as soon as I was back in Stalwart Guard I had turned to 
another.  

     To a man.

     What had my kisses for her meant?   What had my caresses of her so 
vibrant hair meant?  She knew what they had meant to her, but what 
meaning could they have had for me if I turned away so quickly when 
another was available?  One with whom she could not compete, if my 
interest were in men.  

     In her eyes I could see only betrayal.  I would have preferred to 
see fire in those green jewels, fire like I had seen so many times 
before. 

     Though I had just been kissing another my heart went out to Julia 
and I reached for her in a renewal of the embrace we had so often shared.

     She turned away from me, turned back into Mother's room, turned her 
back on me.  

     I moved to pursue Julia but Mother's arm held me back.  Her eyes al-
lowed me to move into her room, but not to touch my fire-tressed girl-
friend.   Mother's look also commanded me to silence.  It was like a blow 
to me to realize how disappointed they each were in me.  My own shoulders 
sagged, my own head drooped, my own eyes filled near to overflowing with 
shame and confusion.

     Mother's gestures motioned Julia and me to our accustomed stools as 
she took her own seat.  Greyshadow provided a moment's distraction and a 
focus for my eyes that couldn't meet Mother's or Julia's.  I expected a 
scolding that would be all the worse because it was delivered from pain 
and disappointment rather than anger.  Bowing my head even lower, I rea-
died myself for the attack from which I had no defense.

     Mother's words were for Julia, though.  "Julia, are you familiar 
with the legends of our family?"

     Julia looked up in surprise.  I had been aware of how her own des-
pair had pulled her head down though I couldn't look at her directly.  
>From the corner of my vision I saw her motion followed by a shake of 
negation in her flowing mane.  

     "I'm sure you've heard something," Mother pressed.

     Julia's eyes glanced at me for the merest heartbeat, then she re-
plied, "Well, I never gave them much credit.  Witches with strange 
powers to control men's minds.  It is not possible.  I have watched 
you since Tamor first invited me to live here and I know you are not 
in league with the Evil One."

     "No, we are not in league with the Evil One.  Yet in a way the 
legends are correct.  In my family we have the ability to influence
people's minds.  It is not infallible, but when it works it can provide 
amazing results," claimed Mother.

     "Let me show you," she said, capturing Julia's green eyes with hers 
of brilliant blue.

     "No, Mother!" I cried, stepping between them.

     Julia started where she sat, and Mother sat back abruptly as well.  
She looked at me with a frown that showed surprise and confusion more 
than anger.

     "Mother, this is not right.  Do not cloud Julia's mind, sharpen it!  
Let her help us with her wisdom and judgment," I demanded.

     "Cloud my mind?" murmured Julia, even more worry on her face.

     "What Mother says is right.  We have the ability to influence 
people's minds.  Sometimes.  But it is wrong to use it on people you 
respect  . . . and love  . . . without their understanding and consent."

     "Love?" Julia whispered, picking up on one word from my declaration.

     "Yes, love," I whispered back as I knelt at her feet.  I took her 
hand in mine and gently kissed it, then pressed it to my forehead as I 
knelt before her, my gown spreading wide around my legs.  

     Mother coughed delicately, causing Julia's head to come up even as I 
held my submissive pose.

      "Cherysse is right.  We should explain without artificial enhance-
ment to our words."  Then she paused for a moment before continuing, 
"That honesty will make her a good Monarch when the time comes for her to 
take her rightful throne."

     A compliment?  My shameless display on the balcony warranted many 
things, but hardly a compliment!

     "Cherysse, take your seat again and I will explain, this time without
additional, um, persuasive effects."

     I did as I was bid while she continued, "Julia, what I said was 
true.  Under the right circumstances we can influence others with force 
beyond words alone."

     "We?" Julia asked.

     "Those in my family who have our distinctive blue eyes," Mother ex-
plained.  This caused Julia's eyes to flick to mine.  Her green eyes 
widened even further than their shining norm as she reminded herself 
of the similarity between Mother's eyes and my own.

     I nodded to her in answer to her unasked question, then we both 
looked back at Queen Selay.

     "Yes, Cherysse has the power as well.  She has used it with greater 
discretion than I would have expected in one so young.  But then, she 
among us all has had to grow up very quickly in this last half year."

     "One of the things this power allows us to do, if the subject is 
willing, is to share a part of ourselves, to create a mirror personality 
within an existing mind.  Deacon could never have been convincing as a 
woman.  Cherysse was created when I put aspects of my mind into 
Deacon's."

     Finally Mother explained the strange feelings I had been experien-
cing.  Explained them, though I wasn't sure how to react to her words.  
"That is why she has been so attracted to Lyonidas.  Those parts of her 
mind that allow Cherysse to be convincing, to move in a feminine way, to 
understand what it means to be a woman, exist even as those parts that 
are Deacon exist.  Those parts that are Deacon are attracted to you."

     Then Mother sighed and her tone became apologetic, " I was forced to 
rush when I imposed Cherysse on Deacon's mind.  There was no time for 
fine tuning.  Subtleties are uncertain in any event.  Since then any 
further modifications would be even more uncertain and we could not take 
the chance of arousing the suspicions of Lyonidas or Reynal.  As a result 
it is as though the Princess is two persons.  On the outside, especially 
when she is near a handsome man, her feminine persona is dominant.  I had 
to make this so since it is at this time when she is most vulnerable if 
she behaves inappropriately.  Yet when no man is around her true person-
ality can emerge, at least partially."

     "Cherysse cannot truly control which persona is dominant, but she is 
honest to the feelings of that person," Mother concluded.  "In her heart 
of hearts, or perhaps I should say in 'his' heart of hearts, Deacon loves 
you, Julia."

     "And you agreed to this mind control?" Julia asked me.

     A good question, for which I had no really good answer.  "I don't 
know.  I didn't understand it at the time sufficiently to truly agree.  
But at the time we had no alternative."

     After a moment's further thought I realized, "We probably still 
don't."

     "No, perhaps now less than ever," Queen Selay agreed.  "We are 
about to move into the most dangerous part of our plan.  Once we remove 
Reynal, Kragdle is sure to return."

     "Remove Reynal?" I asked.

     "Yes, but I cannot afford to have either of you involved," she said, 
dismissing my obvious curiosity.  

     Queen Selay straightened in her seat and gave additional orders.  
"Julia, you need to accept your defeat in obtaining Lyonidas' affections.
Since you were not yet married to Tamor you can officially end your mour-
ning at the feast tonight.  Be polite to Lyonidas, but flirt with anyone 
else who catches your fancy.  Make it clear that there is no hope of 
coming between Lyonidas and Cherysse.  If Lyonidas petitions his father 
to overrule our period of mourning, it will add to Kragdle's reason for 
returning.  Yet he cannot now come before the spring.  Only the hardiest 
of messengers can make the passage to High Canyon at this time of year."  

     Her eyes showed soul-deep pain as she continued to me, "Cherysse, 
you will need to let things continue with Lyonidas.  He has made a public 
claim to you and you must acknowledge it.  Become more submissive to him 
but keep your strength with all others, particularly with Reynal."

     "Both of you," she continued, "when you can do so without it being 
obvious to Lyonidas, taunt Reynal.  Make it clear that he is not man 
enough to interest you."

     She stood up in dismissal.  "Now, we need to get ready for the 
feast.  Cherysse, I have a gown that is identical to the black gown you 
once wore except that it is in a blue so deep it appears almost as dark.  
Julia, pick something distinct, perhaps something with more decoration 
to contrast with the simplicity of the gown that Cherysse will wear.  We 
want everyone's eyes on one of the two of you tonight."

     And that's certainly the effect we achieved.  The deep blue gown 
was indeed a near-copy of the black gown I had worn the night that Lyoni-
das had first kissed me.  He was quite flattered by the obvious reminder.
Men are so predictable!  Julia's gown, on the other hand, was delicate 
and intricate and did full duty to the many moods she was known to 
display.  We actually received an ovation as we entered the dining hall 
that evening.  

     Lyonidas was easily polite, yet whenever I happened to look his way 
I saw his eyes on me.  In part it was flattering, but in part it was also 
disconcerting.  I'm afraid I drank a bit more wine than I normally did.  
Yet I could eat no more than normal with my forced-small stomach.  As a 
result, when the time came to dance I was much more exuberant than usual.

     Reynal leaned over during one of our breaks when Lyonidas had escor-
ted me back to our seats and loudly stated, "It seems that our Princess 
is quite happy tonight.  Perhaps she enjoys making a spectacle of herself 
before the castle courtyard crowd."

     Lyonidas and I had both reached for our cups the moment we sat down, 
but perhaps I had taken a smaller sip so I was the first that could 
react.

     "General Reynal," I smiled at him with even more heat than the first 
time we had met, "perhaps it is just that Lyonidas is man enough to awa-
ken a woman's ardor."

     And perhaps it was just coincidental that Duchess Amity, seated next 
to Reynal as usual, had taken that moment to doze off.  Lyonidas splut-
tered into his wine and those around tittered most satisfactorily.  Rey-
nal's face grew brighter than Julia's hair.  He stood abruptly, poking at 
Amity.

      "Madame, it appears it is time for you to go to bed.  I will assist 
you," he growled.

      Julia picked up her own wineglass and pretended to murmur into it.  
In fact, her voice was loud enough to carry clearly.  "The man for me 
won't need to assist me to bed.  I'll be there first, anxious and ready."

     Reynal's back, all that we could still see, got even stiffer than 
his normal martial posture.  He said nothing, however, merely helping the 
groggy Amity out of the hall.  After their departure the feast got merry.
Julia danced with a dozen men but I accepted invitations only from Lyoni-
das.  I don't think Mother even needed to pull any strings to make sure 
that the musicians played at least a few slower, more intimate tunes 
whenever Lyonidas led me onto the dance floor.  

     Still, there were enough faster melodies that we often needed our 
wine when we returned to our seats.  As the evening wore on, I realized 
I was getting even less inhibited.  Finally, after an extended giggling 
session where everything anyone did seemed hilariously funny, Lyonidas 
stood and offered his arm to me.

     "My Princess, I think you need some fresh air."

     "My Prince, that is not all that I need."

     I clung to his arm with more need that I had expected as he led me 
from the hall.  Our path to my balcony, our balcony now, led by his cham-
bers.  At the doorway, I glanced inside.

     "You haven't changed things much from when Tamor was here."

     "I suspect he and I could have been friends under other circumstan-
ces," Lyonidas mused as he followed me into his room. 

     The few steps away from Lyonidas had reminded me of how much I had 
had to drink.  I staggered slightly, leaning on the corner post of Lyoni-
das' bed.  His arms were immediately around me to steady me.

     "Do I really awaken a woman's ardor?" he breathed into my ear.  

     My answer was my lips, given without words.  He took them as his 
own.  His hands explored the smooth sleek curves revealed by my so-seduc-
tive gown.  I leaned into his body, forming my own to his in a more
ancient dance than any played by the musicians.  I felt with a distant 
part of my mind as his hand began to undo the lacing that held my dress, 
but it was unimportant.  Nothing was important but the warmth of his lips 
on mine, the hardness that had made it's presence so obvious between us.  

     For all that the gown fit me like a shiny skin above the skirts, yet 
those skirts started low enough that my hips had expanded.  When Lyonidas 
had released the laces my dress would have slipped to the floor unimpeded 
but for the petticoats that gave such elegant fullness.  These Lyonidas 
also released, but it was the loss of their weight that finally intruded 
into my distracted passion.

     I stepped back from Lyonidas in just my chemise, trying to get my 
drink-clumsied legs free of all those acres of fabric.  

     And fell sprawling, my chemise flying up to reveal what little it 
had concealed.  Or perhaps the very great secret it had concealed for the 
gown itself left little to imagine about my form.  Yet with my chemise up 
around my armpits Lyonidas could now see the maiden's lover that had been 
hidden behind the fabric.

     "What is that thing you wear?" he asked as he helped me to my feet.  

     I just tried to pull the thin material of my chemise down to conceal 
once again my hidden tormentor.  My shock and dismay and embarrassment 
and whatever coupled with my drunkenness to give me the hiccups.  If 
there were anything more that could be done to make me feel terrible, I 
couldn't imagine what it would be.

     So I did what seemed to be my only logical action.  I started to 
cry.  My sobs reinforced my hiccups and my embarrassment grew further.  
Lyonidas tried to comfort me but I was too distressed for his embrace and 
turned away, waving my arm behind me to make him keep his distance.  

    He didn't.  Instead, I felt his strong arms around my waist as I 
turned to the wall.  To his credit he just held me, not using the oppor-
tunity to explore further the diabolical device that I had never hated so 
much in my life.

     "What is this thing?" he asked again, though softly, uncritically.

     "It's called a 'maiden's lover'," I explained between sobs.  And 
hiccups.  "It's purpose is to make sure that my virtue remains intact, 
even if my own heart is not strong enough."

     "Who makes you wear such a thing?" he asked in amazement.

     "Mother, but it is our custom.  Julia has her own.  In our tradition 
the mother of a bride gives the key to the groom's mother, who then hides 
it somewhere in the groom's belongings.  The couple must find the key 
before they can consummate the marriage."

     "Some custom!   And I thought we in High Canyon were often cruel."

     By this time my sobs were getting under control, though not my 
hiccups.  There was so much horror in his voice that I had to giggle.

     "Well, (hic) it's supposed to give the bride an incentive (hic) to 
be nice to her new (hic) mother-in-law.  So that she doesn't (hic) hide 
the key too well (hic).

     The humor was back in his eyes when he heard the humor in my voice.  
He turned me around and offered to solve another of my problems, "I have 
a cure for the hiccups, you know."

    "Really (hic)?"

     "Yes," he promised with a grin, "it involves controlled breathing 
exercises."

     "Breathing (hic)?

     "Like this," he said, lowering his lips to mine.

     I highly recommend the High Canyon cure for hiccups.  


     Unfortunately, that was the only need for which he had an immediate 
cure, and it was not my most pressing need at that.  Actually, with that 
thought I realized I did not have a 'pressing' need.  My maiden's lover 
was no more painful that normal.  It seemed only Julia could excite 
passions beyond my mind.  Well, and my breathing.  Which was controlled 
rather wonderfully by Lyonidas.  For a time that seemed very long, yet 
very short.

     Somewhere in there his hands did wander enough to determine the ex-
tent of my imprisonment.  The touch of his fingers along the borders of 
my undesired armor sent shivers up my spine that defined the extent of 
his effect on me as well as they defined the limits of my guardian gar-
ment.  It was a powerful effect, yet it was an unyielding guardian.  

     Somewhere in there also, my hiccups vanished.  I'm not sure what 
controls there were on my breathing, but it was definitely affected.  
When he finished his cure I was breathless, but a lot more sober than I 
had been.  

     I put my head on his shoulder and sighed, "I'm sorry my Prince.  I 
should not have drunk so much tonight.  It made me forget my prison in 
favor of my desire."

     I felt his head nod above me but he said nothing.  He just held me 
quietly.  

     After a long moment I kicked at the pile of clothes that I had 
thought to escape.  Clearly I needed to dress again.  The thought of once 
again putting on that beautiful gown created within me a sense of con-
flict as great as that from kissing Lyonidas after kissing Julia.  Who-
ever I was, I now wanted to wear beautiful clothes.  Clothes like those 
scattered about the floor of Lyonidas' room.  

     Lyonidas noticed my motion of course.  He was so wonderfully atten-
tive to me.  Taking the innermost petticoat from the pile, he once again 
tied it about my waist.  Just like a lady's maid he helped me to dress, 
finally lacing the back of the gown until it fit as sleekly as when I 
first sortied forth from my chambers so long ago that evening.  

     "I think I could still use some air," I murmured.

     "I think we could both use some air," he agreed.  He grabbed a cloak 
from his room and we went to mine, though this time he carefully remained 
in the hallway when I went in.  In just a moment I had a cloak and gloves 
of my own.  We ascended to our balcony and watched the brilliance of the 
winter stars, glittering like chips of ice not too different from the 
sparkle of frost on windows in our courtyard.  

     "The stars shine like your eyes," he offered a different comparison.

     I looked up to him, which was fast becoming a favorite pastime due 
to the predictable effect.  In a heartbeat our lips were once again 
warming each other, though the heat that arose had more to do with rapid 
heartbeats than the temperature of our touching skin.  I had surrendered 
to his control once again, letting his hands shape my posture to best 
advantage against his when lights and shouts interrupted us.

     "Milord Regent!  Your Highness!  Come quickly!"

     "What is the matter?" we asked in unpracticed unison, equally iden-
tical tones of petulance in our voices.

     "General Reynal has attacked Duchess Amity!  He has been caught in 
the act!  The Regent must judge at his trial!"


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