Arabella could feel their eyes on her, watching, calculating, waiting for the lady of Autumn to do something blasphemous and terrible.
Five hundred years ago, she would have held her chin high, stared them down, and walked straight as a pillar with the grace and strength of a queen.
Now she fought to look straight ahead instead of down.
She was still a lady and she would not be down trodden anymore.
None of them were old enough to remember her.
To recognize the female who had walked the same halls with a bright smile and a teasing laugh.
The one who had shared a bed with their most beloved High Lord.
She walked beside Helion timidly beneath their gazes.
Walked closer to him when they began to whisper about Beron and her sons, about Eris.
A pretty female with a golden arm sat discussing matters with a handful of officials, and stared balefully at Arabella until she passed.
The tightness in her chest grew and grew, and she could feel Helion glancing at her with increasing concern.
She refused to look at him.
She wanted to, but if she did she might lose her composure completely.
She had already done that enough for one day.
The tension eased at last when they turned a corner and stopped in front of a tall mahogany door, with the same inlaid face as the great golden doors of what she assumed was Helion's war room.
But for some reason, her fingers tingled and the back of her mind whispered that this place was familiar.
When Helion glanced at her, placing a hand on the door, Arabella finally looked back.
Holy Mother he was beautiful.
That dark, bronzed tawny color of his skin that glowed when he looked at her.
He hadnt done that since she'd left him.
So she had forgotten how magnificent it was to feel like the sun began to shine because of her.
His bright, piercing golden eyes that slanted up like a wild cat's and drove deep inside her, as if her masks were a spell and she could not hide what was beneath them from the great Spellcleaver.
His wavy, jaw length black hair was exactly the same.
For all his wildness, some things about Helion would never change.
Arabella wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through his hair.
Her trance broke when he gave her a crooked smile that made her knees weak, and pushed the door open, revealing a grand chamber for royalty.
She glanced inside and looked to Helion, who gestures for her to go in.
Feeling unsure and insecure without him by her side, she sidled in and fought the gasp that rose in her throat.
She would take in the magnificent room later.
Turning to face him, expecting him to follow, she was surprised when he simply remained holding the door open.
Her eyes must have held the question, because he smiled so genuinely something deep within her cracked and her stomach filled with fluttering moths.
His rolling, deep voice made her toes curl and her skin feel constricting.
"I am beyond ecstatic that you've decided to stay, my lady. But you must be tired. I have a bath heated for you and there are clothes in the closet. Please, rest. "
The gentle worry I'm his eyes made her flush with guilt and shame, but it only served to remind her that he was the most perfect male she had ever met.
That was why she had come here immediately after Beron's untimely demise.
She could read in Helion's eyes, though what he meant.
Wash Autumn from your skin. Abandon their clothing. Be rid of Beron's stain.
So Arabella nodded and smiled faintly.
"Thank you, Helion."
He grinned at her, and for a moment she was in another time, when things had been simple.
Before even Beron.
Those bright eyes were full of mischief and he winked at her, before turning away and letting the door close.
He caught it quickly.
"Supper is in two hours, in the main hall,"
He said.
She could've sworn there was hope and uncertainty in his voice.
"Will you join me?"
Arabella wanted to take his hand in hers and kiss his palm, all the way up his arm to his ear and whisper her answer.
Instead, she smiled widely, cheeks aching at the foreign action.
"Of course, my lord."
Helion grinned again and nodded, at last letting the door shut.
The thump echoed throughout the room and in her bones.
Oh Mother, her bones.
Alone, Arabella released a breath.
What must he think of her, all pale skin and gangled limbs?
She had eaten only when she had to, for food came with the price of sitting at the dining table with Beron and his cronies.
So food had been scarce in a desire to avoid that.
But now...
She turned from the rich doors and every thought left her head at the room before her.
So familiar.
So warm.
So beautiful.
Gold and ivory walls with a sandstone floor that was lined and seamed with rivers of lapis lazuli
The ceiling was a glass dome with a map of the sky written in sunstone that glowed at night and was starkly red during the day.
The setting sun filtered warmly through the glass, not too hot and certainly no more intense than a lover's embrace.
Arabella's cheeks flushed at the thought.
Perhaps less intense than some lovers embraces.
Quickly she moved her mind to other aspects of the lovely room.
A massive four poster bed, of carved mahogany, lay in the center of the room.
The headboard had a coiled cobra with a spread hood and feather wings spread out, crowned with a sun disc in the center, and two expertly carved scarab beetles on either side, also crowned with sun discs.
The sheets were of lapis blue silk, and the covers not much more than layered cream and gold linens, intricately detailed with pretty dyed threads and borders.
The pillows matched, and were plush as well as ornate to an extent that Arabella genuinely did not know whether or not they were to be slept on.
Two tall, thin doors carved similarly to everything else that was wood in this palace, marked a wardrobe.
She resisted immediately donning the otherwise scandalous clothing of the day court and instead turned into the bathing room.
A bath indeed.
She shook her head, eyes shining and began to undress, tossing aside her autumn court garb like a napkin.
Nearly the entire large room was filled with a pentagonal bathing pool, that glittered and shimmered and steamed. The tiles at the bottom were of blue and gold and silver glass. The edge was lined with the red, glowing sun stone inlaid (somehow) with small fae lights.
She stepped into the hot water, hissing in delight at the silky smooth water, and sank in.
Rose oils, her favorite, lined the edge of the pool, so she plucked a bottle up and poured a generous helping into the water.
The lovely scent filled her soul.
Smiles came far more easily to her now, though she had been here but two hours.
This place has always been that for her.
A place to smile easily and let the world fall away.
Floating on her back, she observed that the wall of the pool on the outside was simple a glass dome, much like that on the ceiling of the bedchamber.
She could swim out for a short way over nothing, as though flying a thousand leagues above the ground.
Her heavy red hair was thick with water and scented oils.
Her skin began to warm tenderly, and even her skin began to take on a rosy tone of health.
She might have forgotten herself in that pool, but the prospect of supping with Helion made her heart leap and her veins buzz with anticipation, so she quickly washed and stepped out of the warm pool.
A mirror stood ornately before her.
In it she saw exactly how painfully thin she had grown, and understood the concern underlying each of Helion's looks.
Her shoulders sharply protruded, her arms thin a lacking of any muscle.
Her only curves lay in the shape of her hip bones, which also were too sharp and stuck out too far.
Her legs were thin, and she could count nearly every rib through her skin.
And her breasts...
She flushed in shame at sad state of them.
Small, barely there.
This was not the body that one would recognize as distinctly female.
Nor male.
It was a sad unidentifiable thing that she had not cared about for years until this very moment.
Perhaps there had been a desire to deprive Beron of the supple body she had once had.
Perhaps emaciating herself was her last rebellion after...
She shook her head.
Helion would never look at her the same if she took him to bed looking like this.
If she even could.
Her body very clearly wanted him.
Her heart longed for him.
She wondered if she would know it was him inside her, his hands touching her.
She wondered if it would feel like Beron.
Arabella shuddered violently at the thought, and glanced down at a fading bruise on her waist.
Shaped like fingerprints.
The last remnants of Beron were on her body.
He'd made sure they would stay for as long as any mortal wound when he'd put them there.
No, Helion couldn't see her like this.
Not yet.
The ache in her belly and between her legs grew stronger, as if in complaint.
Arabella simply turned away from the mirror and pulled a towel off of the wall to wrap around herself before walking back to the bedchamber.
There were many things to discuss with the High Lord of Day before taking him to bed.
It would be selfish to think only of her own desires.
She had already been selfish enough.
She padded across the warm, smooth sandstone and opened the wardrobe.
Inside were two sides, separated by a wooden panel.
Her knees went weak when she realized that one side held female clothes while the other held larger and distinctly male clothes.
Clothes that were layered and coated with his scent.
This was his bedchamber.
A bedchamber that was prepared to accommodate a female.
Arabella knew of Helion's habits, but it still made her chest cave a bit.
She scoffed and pulled out articles of thin clothing.
She'd been married for the past 700 years. She'd borne children.
There was absolutely no right to be envious or angry at Helion or those he had shared his bed with.
She glanced at her hands and smiled.
In them sat a female's blue shendyt and little more than blue linen breast wrappings that, once on her body along with the skirt, exposed a thin line of skin at her waist.
This has always been her favored garment when she had come here in the past.
Lapis blue looked as good on her as emerald green, which was damn good, because she wouldn't be dressing in the colors of autumn court for a long while.
Remembering her exposed shoulders, she rifled through the closet and found a fine, gold thread macrame shawl that she draped over her arms and knotted at her navel.
The thin strands of gold trailed down to mid thigh like shimmering spider silk.
She looked at herself in the mirror in the wardrobe.
Her critical eye judged the sharp lines of her body, but the day court style favored her well, even now.
From what she judged, supper was still at least an hour away.
With a sigh, Arabella turned away from the wardrobe and sat on the edge of the bed.
Oh great Mother.
Helion's bed.
Before she could react to that fact, she jolted at a soft knock at the door.
Standing swiftly, she cleared her throat.
An anxious feeling made her fingers twitch.
"Come in."
The door pushed open.
She expected the tall, muscular form of Helion.
Instead, a pretty female with short cropped black hair and skin the color of dark honey walked in.
Her eyes were lined with kohl and she wore the white sister to what Arabella had chosen to wear.
Silver arm bands adorned her biceps.
But Arabella didn't pay much heed to what she was wearing.
Her mouth fell open in shock, and she and the other female flew towards each other, nearly knocking each other back with the force at which they embraced.
Tears threatened to spill over once more as Arabella hugged her old friend tightly.
They rocked back and in each other's arms until they finally tore themselves apart.
The loss of warmth surprised Arabella.
"Ahmes?"
She breathed quietly, as if speaking too loudly would shatter this lovely dream world she was in.
Ahmes grinned at her, her own eyes lined with silver.
"It's been far too long, Ari."
Arabella laughed, and the joy she felt deep in her belly flowed out of her amber eyes.
"Half a millennium and you still wear your makeup like that, dear friend? I don't know how you do it everyday."
Ahmes giggled, and Arabella felt like a young girl again. They sat on the bed together, speaking of good things and their lives in the years they'd been apart.
Arabella didn't speak much.
There had not been many happy things in her years apart from Ahmes, and this was not a time to be sullied by unhappy things.
So she listened intently and with great delight.
Ahmes had married, and now was mother to a beautiful young female who was soon celebrating her 100th birthday.
Arabella admired the ruby ring on her friend's finger.
She and her husband, another old friend of Arabella's, had married soon after the signing of the Treaty and the raising of the Wall.
"After we married, Helion made Rawer his Master of Coin. We've been living in the palace ever since. In the west wing with the other counselors and chieftains."
Her deep brown eyes glittered.
Arabella shook her head.
Her cheeks aches from smiling for so long.
"That's wonderful, Ahmes. I..."
She clasped her hands onto her friend's.
"I'm so happy for you. Truly."
Sadness and, heaven forbid, pity, guttered in Ahmes' eyes for a moment before fading, and suddenly the female sat up.
"I'm going to get you ready for your supper with our good High Lord."
Arabella opened her mouth to protest, but remembered her friend's stubbornness and said nothing.
So she let Ahmes brush her hair until it shone like tongues of flame in the dying light, let her line her amber eyes with kohl that curled down onto her cheeks.
Let her select gold jewelry and a golden belt to lay at her hips.
A gold collar inlaid with gems, a circlet with a cobra's hood in the place of a gem, arm rings that were the sleek, feminine partner to Helion's.
Much to Arabella's chagrin, Ahmes refused to allow her to don a pair of slippers or sandals.
"Only outsiders and ill favored guests wear shoes in the palace," she insisted, so Arabella had finally let it be.
The only thing on her feet was a thin gold anklet with hieroglyph charms.
After a while, they settled back onto the bed and Ahmes gently continued to brush Arabella's thick hair.
"I missed you dearly, Ari."
Arabella smiled.
"And I you. I'm glad we're together again."
Ahmes snorted.
"Helion won't be. We'll be wreaking havoc and chaos on his court in no time. And, I will always steal you away from him."
Arabella blushed.
She could hear the suggestive twinkle in her friend's eye.
"I don't know if-" she began, but was interrupted by the door opening.
This time, it was Helion.
Seeing his full form, strong and powerful and the leash on his power loosened made her glad she was not standing.
His eyes went to her, then to the female behind her.
"Hello Ahmes," he smiled.
Arabella felt the bed shift and then Ahmes was on her feet, bowing.
"Lord Helion."
She walked towards the door, inclining her head to her high lord, and winked back at Arabella when she left, closing the door behind her.
Helion stood by the doors still, eyes fixed on Arabella and a way that made her face heat and her blood stir.
She hasn't touched the power of her flame in centuries, but she could feel it now rising up within her.
Before she could make to stand, Helion stalked towards he and knelt in front of her.
Seeing his face looking up at her from near her knees made her body heat.
His hands pressed down on the bedding on either side of her legs.
"You look stunning, Ari."
His eyes met hers beneath a hooded brow.
She uttered a breathless thank you, and then a gasp when she felt his hands slip under her knees as gently pull her towards the edge of the bed.
The scent of her arousal was no secret, and judging from the flare of Helion's nostrils, he could smell it just fine.
The gold of his eyes burned brighter, but he simply took on of her hands in his, brought it to his lips in a courtly kiss, and stood, helping her up as well.
Arabella's heart pounded and her breath was shallow.
What was this male doing to her?
She'd resisted his charms for every meeting for five hundred years. Was she so desperate for him that at the first chance she had, her body welcomed him with proclaimed lust and wanton desire?
Helion's intense gaze melted into a cocky, mischievous, nigh on boyish smirk, as though he understood every one of her thoughts.
Still holding her hand in his, he said
"Shall we dine, my lady?"
Still flushed and flustered, Arabella merely nodded and walked with him as though he were escorting her to a fine event.
The thought made her heart drop into her stomach.
Beron's meals had always been tables full of emissaries and conniving lords and advisors.
She didn't know if she would be able to handle tables full of Helion's confidantes, even if they were good people.
Nausea gripped her, and the blood drained from her face, but she continued to keep pace beside Helion.
He must've sensed the change in her mood.
She could feel the concern pouring off of him in waves, but he said nothing.
When they stepped into the threshold of the great hall, to Arabella's great surprise and relief... no one was there.
Save but one male servant wearing a more practical and task friendly set of garments than Helion, but similar enough.
A short table sat in the middle of the great hall, and a bouquet of jasmine and lotus flowers sat in the center.
Fae lights floated throughout the hall which was built similarly to Helion's bedchamber with the lapis lined floors and the ivory walls.
But they were alone.
It was the most intimate, lovely and considerate thing that had been done for her in a very long time.
When she looked up at Helion, wonder written on her face, gone was the mischief, replaced by a gentle smile.
He had been looking at her with those eyes, those admiring eyes, for a long while before she finally saw it.
And her heart soared when he did not hide it from her, unabashedly displaying his affection.
"It... this is beautiful, Helion."
He grinned at her, all mischief once more, and stepped forward to pull out her seat.
She returned his smile and sat before her place setting of goblets of precious metals and fine diningwear.
Her heart fluttered nervously, excitedly, as he took his own seat across from her and silence filled the space between them.
Arabella's hands fidgeted in her lap, picking at her nails and loose threads in her sheer golden wrap.
The silence brought many unpleasant things to the forefront of her mind.
All the things she must tell him.
All of the duties she was shirking by being here.
But when he spoke, it all melted away.
"I apologize for my absence today. I thought you might want to be alone, so I attended to my tasks. Perhaps it was... uncouth of me as a host to do so."
There was genuine regret in Helion's golden eyes.
And she knew his apology and his guilt ran far deeper than playing host.
Still, she smiled gently and reached across the table, taking his hand.
"You did nothing wrong. I enjoyed the time I had to refamiliarize myself with your court."
Helion raised an eyebrow.
Arabella shrugged slightly.
"With a room in your court?"
She sighed.
"Be patient with me, Helion. It's been a long while."
A door behind them opened and the wafting smell of stew meats and roasted vegetables filled the air.
Helion paid it no heed.
He simply brushed the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Always, Ari."
When their plates were set in front of them, they broke apart.
Arabella glanced up at the server and smiled gently.
She couldn't remember the last time it had been appropriate for her to thank a servant, but it felt right as she did so.
He inclined his head.
After he poured dark, sweet wine into their goblets and made to leave, Helion murmured,
"Thank you, Setka."
Setka bowed deeply to his high lord, and then returned to the door to the kitchens.
Helion smiled apologetically to her.
"My court is much younger now than you remember. They'll learn. You'll remind them."
Arabella smiled.
"I'm alright with being unrecognized for a while."
Holy mother if he kept looking at her with those bright eyes...
She cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at his food.
And then it all began to settle into a centuries old rhythm.