Chapter 14: Devour

Orpheia polished off the last droplet of her wine, prompting a servant to rush up behind her and replenish the glass to its brim. She had been drinking slowly enough that no one noticed she had yet to touch her food. For Orpheia wasn’t able to scrape the putrid flavors of Meyrick’s royal cum off of the back of her throat before dinner fell, no matter what she tried. She even pleaded with Reith to tear her tongue out the moment that the sun disappeared into dusk. Of course, Reith refused. But she promised vengeance for the king’s wickedness in return. To this, Orpheia proposed an idea.

Meyrick’s interest in exploring the farmland stemmed from a business proposal he had for the land’s owner. The owner was a wealthy man who lived in an expansive manor just outside the palace walls. He was unwed, yet sported around a plethora of women who birthed him many children. The eldest of them were sent north and south to the other royal farmlands. Only one boy remained, the last of his children eligible to inherit his father’s position. He was a sporty young man with golden blonde hair, just like Meyrick. But he was quiet and timid. Instead of engaging in the conversations of business and trade that circulated the royal dining table like the rest of the men, the boy remained as silent as Orpheia had been ordered to be. He spent most of the meal staring down at his plate as if it were talking to him, though Orpheia often caught him throwing glances her way. He was around her age, perhaps a year or two older, with a beautiful face and a wandering eye. He was old enough to be inheriting his own collection of slaves quite soon. A new shipment of men and women was scheduled to arrive at the Terrsolis border soon. They would be his to whip into shape. This was precisely why Meyrick desired to bring the boy and his father over for dinner and discussion. Though the men wouldn’t admit this in front of the spectre, Orpheia knew that the slaves in question were Umbranian.

In the carriage, Orpheia had made a promise that still held true, despite its context at the time. She was prepared to do anything to protect her people. So when the king wasn’t looking, she would squeeze her bosom between her arms for the boy to gander at. She enjoyed watching lustful roses bloom in his freckle-dotted cheeks. Orpheia knew he was in her trap when he starting making hasty glances at his lap beneath the table. She was never known to be a flirt, in fact the activity was difficult for her to wrap her head around, but after what little time she had spent in Meyrick’s arms, Orpheia was quick to understand that it did not take much for a man to be interested in feminine flesh. Especially when that flesh wasn’t his to own. The scandal of having a secret rendezvous with the soon-to-be-queen was too rare an opportunity to pass up. So, when Meyrick informed the palace that his guests would stay the night to lengthen their negotiating time, Orpheia passed along a single message to Reith.

“I will be bringing a man back here,” she said, whispering to the shadows when Lucilia’s back was turned. “He is yours to consume. Eat him all. Leave nothing behind.”

Reith replied silently, baring her sharpened fangs with ravenous delight. Orpheia fought the urge to grin at the memory. The sound of Meyrick’s arrogant laughter helped her keep from getting too giddy with excitement, for Orpheia had once more been forced to sit at the king’s left side. Father Grimshaw sat across from her, wearing what she could only assume was a smile. Though the priest was too ghostly of a creature to be able to smile like any sort of human that Orpheia had seen before. When his lips split open and flashed his yellowing teeth, Orpheia was oddly reminded of a long-buried skeleton emerging from the dirt. It was as if Father Grimshaw’s own bones yearned for freedom and were slowly sucking away the flesh that confined them in place. The priest’s attention was focused solely on the king’s expressions, judging his joy and reacting like a loyal dog by his side. Had his eyes been fixed down, he might have noticed Meyrick’s hand occasionally reaching beneath the table to grab a tight handful of Orpheia’s milky thigh. It had grown as dark as an amethyst beneath her gown. The cleansing bath she had taken before dinner had been all for naught. She felt ill floating in the fragrant waters, for she knew those lily petals were fertilized with blood. She couldn’t believe that she had been so foolish as to think that Meyrick hadn’t already taken over the rest of her people. That was why he was so willing to spare her city. They were insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He had bigger, bloodier plans to focus on.

Orpheia plastered a smile on regardless, pushing the memory of her people’s withered states into the back of her mind. The charred meat on her plate was all too reminiscent of those who had suffered for too long beneath the sun’s ruthless rays. Its scent wafted up into Orpheia’s nose despite her refusal and left her sick. She took small bites to appease Meyrick, who had joked to his new companion at the beginning of the meal that he had not yet seen her eat. This was paired with a secret nudge beneath the table, nodding to Orpheia, a punchline that left her red in the face with humiliation. She just had to get through dinner and things would start to change. Reith was almost complete, and the boy Orpheia had entranced across the table was fully grown and plump with a healthy glow. There would be enough flesh to fill in the gaps of Reith’s form. Perhaps his beautiful face might fix Reith’s features as well.

The meal ended when Meyrick decided he was bored with the dining hall. It did not matter how empty Orpheia’s stomach still was, nor did matter that she had yet to finish her fresh cup of wine. When Meyrick declared dinner had concluded, the servants promptly cleaned the table and threw the remnants of what remained of their meal to the dogs and the serfs outside. Orpheia wondered if this pitiful act fed the king’s arrogance, or if he was well-aware of the action’s cruel intent.

With a light peck on both cheeks, Meyrick excused Orpheia back to her chambers. Women were not allowed in the sitting room with the men. When her eyes locked with Meyrick, she furrowed her brow slightly as if to ask why. Meyrick grinned back at her. Orpheia shuddered in response and prayed for the poor slave girls whose faces would adorn that horrible leather hallway come dawn. But there was nothing she could do. Not while Reith hungered. So she bowed her head in silent submission and excused herself like a proper lady. She held onto the facade well, except for a split second, which she spent glaring at Father Grimshaw, who was glaring right back. The priest left at the same time to resume his holy studies. The new moon would soon be upon them, he declared. It was a moment when Sol was said to be at his strongest. Grimshaw needed to prepare. Meyrick’s chest relaxed with a relieved sigh when the priest slipped away. His cloak brushed against Orpheia in the hall. He muttered a quiet prayer under his breath when he passed. Orpheia couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. The priest stumbled, having caught a glimpse of it. He began praying louder, with flushed cheeks, and stormed off into the distance.

Orpheia began slowing her step after that. She held onto each of her breaths as the men’s voices behind her grew quiet. If the slave owner’s son—whose name Orpheia had not bothered to learn—chose to follow his father into the drawing room with Meyrick, she’d have to return to Reith empty-handed. That absolutely would not do. She just had to hold her breath and pray that the boy was desperate for some fresh pussy; not the stretched-out, beaten-down slave girls he was used to. Orpheia would have prepared a weak lust spell if she had had the time. The best she could do was pray. From the corner of her eye, Orpheia caught a glimpse of Lu’a’s waning form hanging high above in the sky. She wished to prove Reith wrong regarding her opinions about the gods. Lu’a cared for her, as she cared for all the Umbranian men, women, and children. All the people who were being kidnapped, tortured, and enslaved. All people Orpheia could save, so long as that stupid boy in the dining hall stopped thinking with his head and started thinking with his cock.