Potent: Book 1

Chapter 33: Celebration

Hello, dear readers - I need to warn you about this chapter before you proceed. An depiction of nonconsensual sexual/physical contact appears in this section. Please skip this if you prefer or if it would be triggering to you. Please understand that it is not my intent to upset anyone.

Ber, Day 25 of Melia, Solar Eclipse, Year 602

I do observe traditional worship of the Pantheon, and often pray to Calumn, but my "belief," such as it is, is more out of superstition than reverence. I suppose I would be more conscious of my faith were I to discover more hard evidence. Which is why I am extremely curious to know more about my very unusual student. —From the private journals of Bricot Camdetch, Master Alchemist at Craestor University from 600 to 604

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Alisia watched in feigned delight as Beynon's fools grotesquely entertained the group of partygoers.

It was troubling, was what it was.

This happened every year. Every. Single. Year.

In all the time she and Bryn Beynon had known each other, since she'd first come to Daitak Keep, since the marriage had been arranged and set—they had never consummated their union.

They didn't have to. The rules governing such a marriage were very loose. The two of them were considered joined until death whether or not they produced an heir. Beynon had people he could appoint as emperor regent after himself if he chose, and Alisia had plenty of extended family that rulership of Urda might pass to in the event of either Beynon or she dying or abdicating.

And I might decide to abdicate, she thought to herself. I could leave. If I grow unhappy enough.

It was a difficult position to be in. She felt the responsibility of her position keenly and enjoyed the easy way she might influence Urdan citizens for the good, even if their lives only improved slightly because of her. And if the empress was truthful with herself, she had to admit that she found her husband tremendously attractive. She'd tried for years to entice him into her bed, but he seemed loathe to trust her.

She tried her best to understand that.

His attachment to the court concubines had always bothered her, and he seemed especially enamored with this new one, Treese. It occurred to Alisia then that the girl's looks vaguely suggested her own—she wasn't sure if she should be encouraged or disappointed by that. In spite of all her resolutions to conduct herself decorously and exercise her well-earned maturity, Alisia was dismayed to find herself maddeningly jealous of the courtesan—frequently. Some nights she wept over it.

Knowing you felt a way that wasn't good for you—that might damage you over time—and believing one could not change the situation was... well, it was awful.

Every year, Beynon teased her. He grew bold on his summer celebrations. Something about turning a year older and having the whole empire celebrate with him granted him an attitude she had yet to understand. It had begun a few years before with a lascivious note that set her heart on fire.

But that night when they'd retired to their shared apartments, he had done nothing.

On other years, he'd leaned over and whispered in her ear during the banquet in the keep. She'd nearly dropped her fork, barely able to believe he was capable of voicing such wishes in such a—a public place. By the time the party had ended and she was alone, she'd been utterly primed for him. And again, nothing.

In later years, he'd conveyed similar wishes but spent himself on concubines instead of her. He usually made sure she could hear them.

And now he sent his fools to deliver his overtures, here, in her chambers, and in front of her friends.