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Chapter 60: Ice Cream
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2024-10-29 19:42:56
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 61: The Tribe
His eyes linger on me. His gaze lights my skin ablaze, I feel flushed from his attention on me. My mind thinking of other things my hot mouth could wrap around. His gaze fixed on me as I perform. “Enjoying the cone?” He asks shamelessly. “Immensely.” I say much more breathy than intended. “You would be surprised how many delicious things there are to sample here in the Kingdom of the Moon.” He says with an edge of flirtation. I should be disgusted by his advances. He represents everything that is wrong. His flirtation with the help so openly in the market is scandalous, even if I am of noble birth. I should be offended as a proper lady that he would even feel so emboldened. “Any good meat dishes you would recommend, your highness?” I say coquettishly, the look of innocence on my face hiding my double meaning. My tongue tracing the peak of my ice cream before retreating to my mouth. A soft growl rumbles in his chest. It might be my undoing. I would let him take me right here
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 62: The Doe
“With whom? Yourself?” I ask with an edge of sarcasm. “You think so poorly of me?” She asks like a wounded child. The question hangs between us. The truth is, I have no idea what she is capable of. “I was born two hundred years ago. Malakai was a story for the history books for wolves by then, but for witches, it was like it was yesterday. For the Tribe of Circe, the need for retribution was palpable and ubiquitous. It was centered in everything. Being the first daughter in a long line of first daughters from first daughters, I was groomed to take the throne. Once my powers were bestowed upon me after my ascension, I was positioned to be the hope of the coven.” She begins to explain after a period of silence. “What is the price of remaining youthful?” I ask, thinking back to all the stories of my youth of wicked witches and their depravity. “At two hundred I have barely left my adolescence. I am still very young.” She says, a look of disappointment in my provincial views. W
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 63: Tea for Three
The clock strikes four and the slave my mother purchased still has not returned from market. It’s tea time and I know she is itching to leave the capital before the sun sets. “Captain, when will your man return with my servant? I’m beginning to grow concerned that my merchandise is being damaged.” My mother snapped as we made our way to tea. “I’m certain that is not the case, your grace. I will go myself, to hurry the process along.” He grabs his coat and begins to charge towards the front door when a knock booms from the door. The butler opens the door and immediately bows deeply. “Your highness! P-Please do come in!” The butler stumbles over his words in nervous energy. My mother and I abruptly stop at the last landing of the stairwell in front of the grand entry way the Prince is standing in. We both curtsy in unison, by muscle memory. “Your Highness, to what do we owe such an honor? I was not expecting that you would join us for tea.” My mother says graciously. “I meant
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 64: Carriage Ride
There are three of us jammed into the carriage. I share my seat with the new servant, the Luna across from us with the largest seat to herself. A book balanced in her hand she casually reads slowly turning the pages. Her focus is entirely on the book, her intense staring only randomly interrupted by a small giggle or gasp. From time to time she shifts in her seat as she reads. The book some tawdry romance passed between housewives, discussed in whispers and giggles at tea. The new servant and I sit awkwardly, straining our abdominal muscles to maintain a small space between us. This space is guarded fiercely as the carriage tumbles down the road. We find our synchronization as we lean and shift with the carriage careful to maintain our space. A dance of quiet movements in unison. Neither of us dare to speak, to do so would be against protocol. The new servant is unsure of the order of things in our house, so erroring on the side of caution is always the wise pathway. Silence is alwa
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 65: Halwayat House
The inn is tucked under a canopy of trees that grow on the outer edge of the Black Woods. I imagine this is the house young Hansel and Gretel stumbled upon. A grand estate, it is reminiscent of a gingerbread house, fitted with an aggressively sharp triangular roof with decorative fascia with fanciful swoops and swirls like royal icing, small windows you can see out of but never escape from with fanciful filigrees, opaque windows that look like poured sugar. Plus it’s quite possible a cannibalistic old witch hag lives inside it. The thought of it makes me giggle to myself. The house itself, once inside, is far too boring to be described in a fairytale. It feels like a flophouse, one inhabited by passing travelers, and not a good one either. It smells of old beer and cheap cigars, I don't imagine the rooms will be much better. An old woman approaches us, just as round as she is short, dressed in a plain brown frock and white apron. “Good Evening, Madame. Welcome to Halwayat House.
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 66: Clear as Mud
“I prefer order to destruction, but that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of it. I’m tired of not knowing things.” I say in a menacing whisper as I plait the Luna’s hair to prepare her for bed. Her and I are alone, but I take no chances or someone overhearing us. “The truth reveals itself in its own time, as it should.” She replies cryptically. “You cannot compel a flower to bloom. It reveals itself when the time is right.” I yank her hair a little tighter than necessary in my frustration. “Mind yourself.” She warns, staring intensely at me in the reflection of the vanity mirror. “I know nothing of what is to come. I don’t even understand what I am and what I’m capable of. How can I navigate this world safely if I am ignorant to how to protect myself?” I ask exasperated by this entire situation. In a perfect world, I would not have to rely on my mother for anything. This is not a perfect world. “Truth be told, I’m not quite sure what you are capable of either.” She says softly. “You
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 67: A Test
“I felt strange when I first saw your servant. She gives off an energy.” I confide in my mother. She smirks. “What does it feel like?” “Like ghosts dancing upon my skin.” I say quietly. “She is a witch. She hails from our tribe, though from a lesser line.” She says. “So will my skin always tingle when I’m near a witch?” I ask, confused. My mother laughs heartily. “No!” She finally manages to say between giggles. “Well, maybe. Every witch senses things differently. It’s hard to say what you can or cannot sense without time and observation. Our powers are things we grow into. Some are more powerful than others in sensing energies and intentions.” “Hm. So how do I interpret these feelings and signs?” I ask. “Your guardian will help guide you. Only she knows how you access the source.” She explains. “So why did you buy a witch at market?” I ask, changing the subject. “She needs entrance to the Moon Ceremony. She is also vying to achieve our tribe’s purpose. I think she me
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 68: An Experiment
Seducing a man in front of my mother, in my mother’s room, a man employed by my mother— has never been on my list of things to do. I have been taught that being modest, quiet, and chaste is the only way to honor your mate. Be a clean canvas, untouched by any other paintbrush, so he can make you exactly as he wishes. I suppose I still live the spirit of modesty and chastity if I only violate the boundaries in my thoughts. I feel as though I am deserving of such a concession as men do not have to follow the same principles of chastity. My mother wraps her evening robe around her nightgown. It’s a heavy forest green velvet with fur lining at the cuffs and collar all along the front edge of the robe. The sleeve a long bell shape, dramatic and moody, my mother’s figure is dwarfed by its proportions. Even after marriage the emphasis on modesty persists, perhaps even more so. Her hair perfectly plaited, her skin glows even without makeup, she is captivating. She pulls a small satchel from
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A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 132: Theia’s Rebellion
TheiaMagic has no effect on me. Well maybe no effect is a bit of an overstatement; negligible, it has a negligible effect, like when you have a glass of wine. Maybe I get a little drunk, my focus a little blurry around the edges, but I am still in control. I can feel the wind shifting toward the King, like he is calling it to him. Even my fur seems to tug at me to follow the direction of the wind. My instinct to run with the wind is overbearing, like a nagging demand to turn around and run with it or face certain peril. The magic has not numbed my senses or surrendered my control. Perhaps these tricks would have worked when I was a pup or even a young wolf, when I had only just begun to test the limits of my drive to survive. I have spent lifetimes honing my skills to serve my Goddess. Hunting in the forests of my plane. Chasing and being chased by friends and foes. Preparing myself for what was to come. The training lasted far longer than any scholar had anticipated. To be the las
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 131: Run
It was as if Asteria’s memory played out on a screen in front of me. I’m a captive audience, cordoned off in a far off corner of my mind. Separated from my body but still aware of what is happening. The scene from Theia’s point of view also playing out, oddly disconnected from me, padded feet to forest floor the smell of earth and water. The dirt flecked in her fur and her nose pressed to the earth inhaling its aroma. Asteria’s trauma unfolds before me, almost happening to me, although the screams are not my own. The hunger in his eyes. The manic rage. His whip. My feelings are not entirely my own, it is as if I am Asteria in this experience. “Prince Aares.” I say in a voice that is not my own. A memory of an event I never experienced, yet vividly recall. This isn’t real, yet, I can feel his whip biting and tearing my skin. I can feel the blood snaking down the back of my thighs. The warm ooze somehow soothing the stinging pain. My back flayed open. His scent coats my skin like an
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 130: True Form
“May the Goddess anoint you with her love and bless you with your dreams.” “We give our devotion to the Goddess!” My mate and I reply. The priestesses are all around us. Their voices echoing off the walls of the cave, it’s impossible to tell how many are speaking as the voices echo around us. Our naked bodies only inches away from one another as we stand in the pool, his intoxicating scent masked by the abundance of minerals in the spring. “We ask our Goddess to cleanse you of all your impurities. Remove any malice from your hearts.” The priestesses chant around us. My body feels drawn to him. The urge I have to touch him is overwhelming, to just feel his skin pressed against mine. Any doubts I have floating away the second I am near him. I look ahead to the priestesses. I do not dare look at him in all his glory. One glance at him may be what breaks the dam holding back my urges, my last vestige of control. “Tonight, you are to shift into your true nature. The greatest trea
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 129: Pan
“The Mountain stands, unmoving— never wavering, rooted deeply into the soil.” The Queen begins, seated behind me on a small chair, her gown spilling out of the narrow seat displaying the sheer volume of fabric she seems to carry so effortlessly. Monica is plaiting my hair for the first ceremony. An intricate pattern of different braids joined together and fastened with a plain rag tie matching my temple dress. “The Wind with her sons raging across the lands, charge right at the Great Mountain, but it still stands. The nymphs of the waters try to claw through it, but still it stands. Rigid. Strong. Proud.” Her hands move with the story, in a way it was more akin to a fireside chat rather than dressing room gossip. It reminds me of my father’s stories around the fire. I listen to her tale, knowing little of her people, attentively watching her through the mirrors reflection. “The Goddess herself blessed the Great Mountain, and appointed the Shadow Mountain pack to be the Guardians
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 128: Rigid as the Great Mountain
“Waltz of the Mountains.” The King sneers. “Let’s see how well you keep up.” He casts a glare at Edward. “You know how your Grandmother adores the dance of her homeland, grandson. Do not disappoint her for the sake of your mate.” The warning is clear. “Yes, my King. I would not dream of disappointing.” He bows deeply, his hand on his heart pledging his allegiance. I remember our first meeting. “You play a dangerous game, girl.” He said with his hand around my throat. I suppose I am still that dangerous silly girl, too headstrong to fully submit. Incapable of bending to a tyrant. Incapable of silence. I am who I create. I feel Theia and Asteria in the front of my mind. Any overt display of power would be disastrous, so they lurk, careful not to allow their presence shimmer in my eyes. I deeply curtsy holding my hand to my heart as well, averting my eyes to the floor, not uttering a word. Silence and obedience. That is what the King demands. My stubbornness to blame for not b
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 127: Waltz
Silence. I dare not speak or move. “I have heard you can dance.” The King says in my direction. A small smile creeped on his lips. A sneer. “Yes, your majesty.” I say meekly. “You shall dance for us.” Edward looks at me with sadness in his eyes. A shimmer of anger rippling in his fields of green, at my faux pas. The weight of the King’s displeasure not only hitting me, but crushing him as well. Collateral damage. “I would love to see the waltz.” The Queen hums. “Edward can lead her if she does not know it. Besides, she will be expected to dance at their wedding celebrations.” I hope he indulges his wife. It is a far better option than being forced to gyrate in front of the King. His expression leads me to believe he wishes to not only remind me of my place but humiliate me in the process. The Queen’s suggestion is only her tossing a rope to her grandson to save him from the front row seat to my humiliation. The King looks to his Queen. “Very well.” He replies. “L
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 126: Fairytales
Fairytales have a modicum of truth to them. Just enough truth that the reader can absorb the message, learn whatever moral imperative is being taught. The tricky part is discerning what little bit is rooted in truth, and what is an outright lie, a fantasy embellishment to keep you reading. I prefer the stories with happy endings, lessons are still learned, but the main character in the end is well and fine. Perhaps that’s my first mistake, assuming my placement in the tale is the main character, rather than the abused maid or gullible villager, or otherwise nameless background character. A person in the crowd as the King strolls down the street naked. A lady’s maid to the wicked queen or damsel in distress. A nameless cousin to the main character, who tried on the shoe but it did not fit. Perhaps I am the main character, in one of those tales where she tragically dies. Her choices and bad decisions leading her to death, rather than the happiness she was seeking. The Queen seem
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 125: The Bluebird
“Beauty is pain.” Monica consoles. “You cannot achieve divinity without sacrifice. We want ethereal. We want glamor.” “We want to be able to have dinner.” I squeak, the corset of the gown so tight I can barely breathe. “Or maybe just be able to breathe.” I have been trying on gowns for hours. I tire of looking at my reflection. “Long deep breaths from the lungs, not the belly.” She demonstrates, her body rod straight, long measured breaths expanding her ribcage. My wedding gown, gowns for tea and dinner, dresses for travel and leisure, for breakfast or prayer— the stacks of fabric seem endless. I was nothing more than a doll. Monica has the same persistence as Agatha. I remember her wrapping me in endless fabrics for my Moon Ceremony gown. “You will be elegant! Ravishing! Demure!” She shouted as she wrapped me in satins and tulle. “Posture is key. Beyond that, relax. High anxiety breathing isn’t very effective or attractive.” Monica concludes. I smile, my mind wander
A Daughter’s Revenge Chapter 124: Orchard
Something in my soul longs for the sunshine. The rays on my skin make me come alive. My internal battery dependent upon feeling the sun against my skin. I do not recall the last time I was outside in the sun. It seems a lifetime ago that I was able to truly enjoy it. My gown manifesting what I need the most, time to bask in the sun. I can feel the whispers of winter on the autumn wind. A small chill dancing in the breeze, winter days soon to come. I stare upwards to the sky. The sun’s rays like golden spires piercing through the clouds, a magnificent sight. The sun coyly peeks from behind the clouds to bathe me in its rays. Today, I am the sun, and I will absorb the warmth and joy it brings me. Monica stops in front of a small gate created between two apple trees. The trees already bare from harvest, the priestesses and acolytes have started the pruning process, preparing the orchard for winter. The branches and stems are neatly stacked in piles along the treeline. My ow
