Chapter 42: Sleeping with the Enemy

Rose returned to her usual duties in the estate while keeping the diary a complete secret. As long as the usurping family considered Rose loyal, she would be safer and be able to move about more easily. In the meantime, she began practicing magic more often, trying to assert control over the power she had experienced several times already. Without a teacher, though, she knew little of how to better her skills. The only magic anyone in the estate wanted to teach her involved clothes and paperwork.

She paid more attention to these lessons, hoping to segue one set of skills into another. If she could better understand the concepts of magic, then maybe she could apply them to learning more. She also had the feeling that the magic of her family didn’t work the same as other magic. The way her instructors explained the process and what to expect never aligned with Rose’s experience. The man who tutored Rose in amending documents explained that there should be a slight pinch on her fingertips as she touched the document. In her experience, though, Rose always felt a tingling heat in her hand, arm, and body, very near to the sensation of an orgasm.

A month later, after Rose had practiced over and over, she didn’t feel any more skilled than before. The idea that her magic didn’t align with that of others was becoming more evident. It was going to take leaving the capital with the diary, but she would need a good reason to travel. In the meantime, Rose spoke with Cole and Camellia about her plans and had them prepare in secret. At the very least, they would have supplies to travel with when the time came.

Finally, the day came when Rose was ready to meet with Ivan again. A lot of time had passed since he brought her the diary, and things in the estate were operating normally. She traveled alone from her room that night and joined Ivan in the courtyard. As Rose drew close to him, she felt an almost magnetic pull. It was weak but still present, almost as if her soul was ready to inhabit Ivan’s body again. With no time to waste, Ivan whispered his story to Rose.

“We were sent to demolish abandoned houses and buildings. It was good work for us, clearing the way for better constructions to be made or for the area to be used as farmland. After we were months into the mission, we began surveying a small cabin. I went inside to remove anything of value, which we were allowed to keep for ourselves unless it seemed to be some important artifact. Just as I finished, I felt a whisper call to me. The others went outside, and I reached down to find a loose floorboard. Underneath was the diary. I grabbed it, and by some unknown instinct, I hid it on my person immediately.” Ivan paused in deep thought before continuing. “When I read it, Rose, I could feel myself in your body again. For a while, I really had thought we switched like before.”

“We should meet up again soon,” Rose said quietly, knowing time was drawing on. “I have things to tell you, too.”

Rose smiled at her friend and then turned to head back inside. Everything seemed to be falling into place now, which made Rose feel hopeful. All she needed was a good reason to take her friends on a trip that wouldn’t be suspicious. With the thought still in her head, Lord Ash appeared in front of her.

“There you are, Lady Rose,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Apologies,” she answered in a lady-like tone. “I was just having a walk to help me sleep.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. No harm can come to you in the estate,” he smiled. “Now that I’ve found you, though, I was hoping for your assistance in a hobby of mine.”

“Of course,” Rose smiled.

Ash led the way down the hallway and eventually came to a room that Rose had never been in before. Once they went inside, she knew it was Ash’s bedroom. It was just as cozy and nice as the other family bedrooms, including her own, except that his room smelled like a man lived in it. It wasn’t a bad scent, just one of a lingering musk.

“I would like to paint you,” Ash said, bringing Rose’s attention to a large, blank canvas.

“Oh,” she smiled with relief, thinking he wanted to have sex.

“Please remove your clothes and have a seat,” he instructed.

Rose had been nude with Ash before when he examined her, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. She undressed and sat on the soft, comfortable sofa. Ash positioned the canvas in front of Rose but also facing her, which she thought was weird. Usually, an artist faced the other way so they could work and see their example at the same time.

Ash placed a small work table near them and arranged paintbrushes of many sizes and shapes. He lifted one brush and then turned toward Rose instead of toward the canvas. As soon as he touched the bristles to Rose’s face and hair, paint strokes began to appear on the canvas, resembling her shape. The brush was very soft and warm, even comforting, as opposed to being stiff and itchy. The more he worked, the more of Rose’s appearance magically painted itself on the canvas. First, it was only the shapes and outlines, and then, as Ash went over her skin a second and third time, more details filled in. He used smaller or larger brushes to capture the curves and crevices of her face and ears.

Rose’s hair, face, neck, and shoulders appeared on the canvas in greater detail as time went on. Soon, he stroked the brush over her breast and nipple, carefully and slowly maneuvering it to capture every detail. Each time Ash was satisfied with the line work, he used a different set of brushes to color the painting. Rose watched the magical strokes on the canvas, filling in the image of her appearance. It was so accurate and detailed, even intimate.

By the time he finished with the very tips of her toes, Rose felt very sensual. She wondered how much of this art was skill compared to magical enchantment. Was the picture of her on the canvas based on the detailed thoughts in Ash’s mind? Before she knew it, Ash was kissing her. His tongue was plunging into her mouth, and his fingers were rubbing her clitoris. Was this some kind of arousal attack? No, it didn’t feel like one, she assured herself. She was genuinely aroused. It had been a long time since she was last with a man and last felt another person inside of her.

Rose wrapped her arms around Ash and kissed him back. She moaned and panted into his mouth as his fingers moved faster and faster, driving her closer to the edge. The painting of her, naked and aroused, was standing proudly against the wall. She glanced at it as she reached her orgasm. She gasped and breathed heavily as she climaxed. Ash pulled his fingers out and looked at them, covered with Rose’s wetness. He grinned and then placed them into his mouth. Rose watched as he sucked her juices off his fingers.

Ash removed his clothes and then pushed her down onto the couch. Her legs were hanging off the side, and he knelt down in front of her, pulling her close and pushing his cock into her. Rose moaned loudly as the length and thickness filled her. It had been so long since she had last been taken by a man. Camellia had been caring for her needs, but having a man inside of her was a different kind of pleasure.

He thrust his hips hard and fast. Rose held on to him and kissed him, their bodies slapping together. She was so horny, and the painting was so erotic that she was driven to climax in no time at all. Rose cried out and dug her nails into his back. He didn’t slow his pace, though, and continued to fuck her until she came again.

Rose woke up in Lord Ash’s room sometime the next day, but she was alone. The painting was still in the same place by the sofa, which reminded her of their night together. She wondered if Ash or any of the family knew of Rose’s true heritage. If they did, though, she’d more likely be in jail or dead. Rose stood and tied a robe on before walking over to the painting. It was surreal to see herself so realistically displayed on a canvas like this. More of the previous night replayed in her mind. It had been so pleasurable to have Ash make love to her on the sofa. There was a problem, though. She couldn’t remember making him finish. Part of the pleasure of sex was finishing off her partner, but she had no memory of it. There was no memory of Ash cumming on her or of her swallowing it.

Not knowing what to make of it, Rose carried on with her duties for the day. She was still visiting the seamstress to replace many of the clothes she had lost during her trip. Unlink other magic; Rose was good at this. With the seamstress’ guidance, Rose was able to tailor pretty dresses. The only thing she still didn’t quite grasp was bringing the clothes to her size. For this, the seamstress had to make the adjustments for her. Still, it was an important skill, and Rose was eager to improve.

“The color looks beautiful on you,” the seamstress complimented Rose as she tried on a new dress.

“Thank you,” Rose said, glancing into the mirror.

The dress was a dark green with gold accents. It was a simple, elegant style and hugged her curves perfectly. She thought of her night with Lord Ash and how he had painted her so precisely. She wondered if she could do something similar. If she could make her clothes, then she wouldn’t have to wait around for a seamstress to fit her. Rose took off the dress and laid it on the table. She imagined a needle and thread and the way the seamstress worked. She pictured the fabric and the patterns in her mind. Magic rushed through her body, warming her arms and hands. A moment later, the dress on the table was replaced by a finished garment.

“Wow,” the seamstress smiled. “You did it. You finally made a dress.”

“I did,” Rose agreed.

“I’ll be happy to have you help me finish the other garments.”

Rose was surprised at the woman’s statement. It seemed like making a dress was a lot harder than the seamstress made it sound. She had been here for a few days and hadn’t seen her do it once. Then again, Rose had watched the seamstress’s every move, and the woman was quick and precise with her movements.