"You sleep too long " "
The hand that touched his shoulder was so light he thought he imagined it. He could feel it pass against the cloth of his sleeve and to the flesh and muscle beneath it. For moment, he remembered wondering how a feather's touch could set the skin on fire with awareness.
"Beloved, you will miss the day. Already the light does shine so bright that it must already be midday."
He could feel her slender form lean its entire weight against his back and side. That weight was still a mere thing. She seemed to know it and had to put in a little extra effort, pushing and pulling against his arm with slender, fragile hands. The perfume she wore was an intoxicating light breeze of jasminewater and nothing more. She needed nothing more.
Without any need to look that way, he lay on his side facing away from her with his eyes still closed. He reached for her arm and caught it by the bicep. He could feel the material of well made brocade, flesh and bone of her delicate arm. Laughter rumbled from him to pull her with enough force to take her off of her feet and into the bed with him.
For a second he heard her scream but it was only from being momentarily startled because the next second it was her warm, rich laughter that was there between them. He opened his eyes and peered at her with a narrowed and untrusting look that glinted mirth. "You mean to say to me, woman, that you woke me before nightfall?" His hand was at her arm and caressed the royal blue material that swirled in a scroll-work pattern of gold thread. Her hair had been neatly arranged by a handmaiden's touch with curls, pins, and a snood that was beautiful. Just beautiful enough that he wanted to take it apart until it fell completely loose and free, but he pushed the urge away. He had already done a bit of 'damage' to her elegant appearance by tugging the lady into his bed.
"My Lord and love, you must remember what day this is. The magistrate comes for a visit. As does my cousin and his wife." She smiled up at him with sapphire blue eyes. That gaze was unflinchingly endearing, even mirthful with how he had so easily pulled her off of her feet to pull her in close to him.
"You have taught me how to forget, my love. The song of your voice draws me to the dream. Your perfume has me drunk. And your face. What of this and all you are, my heart's love" Hmm' You tempt me with all that you are to forget all of these duties."
"Mmm-hmm." Within her slender, pallid throat she laughed quietly and dubiously. "I beg your forgiveness. I never intended to lead you so far astray from your path and duties and demands of being The Lord Protecto—"
He claimed her mouth when she started to laugh again so that for a few moments more they both could learn to forget these things. But eventually he felt her soft touch at his face. His eyes opened to smile down on her. But his smile soured and stupefied. He could not understand how her lovely face was suddenly ashen and blood was at her lips. Grotesquely, some of the blood was on her teeth while she strained to speak with him. The sudden shift of image did not make sense.
"My Beloved " " Her voice was hoarse and wet, all at once as if she had screamed too long and blood was there to wet her throat from within.
"Khas" Khasendra?" He was already sitting up, already looking down on her where she lay dying in the bed beside him. But they were no longer alone. She was suddenly in the bed with two young boys. Both with hair as honey blond as hers. How he was standing across the room he could not fathom but he gave no thought to it.
They lay too still in the bed. Too still to be alive. Blood was smeared on all of their faces and knife wounds had left dark, black and red holes in their sides and chests.
The daylight had left the room for further reasons he could not understand. He could not reach them and could not get to them, held back by something he could not feel. Madness took him while from the darkness dimly started to appear a form. It was not tall or short and hinted to nothing if it was a male or female. He knew who it was. He knew why they were there and why they had killed his wife and sons.
Reasons started to hit hard like drowning, cold waves. They hit him and took away his breath at first. He could hear the screams and pleas from his wife and sons but his wild, wide eyes saw their motionless corpses before him.
When he could finally breathe again, he was screaming roars of such utter pain and despair that he forgot himself. He was no longer in the grip of that nightmare of a memory. At some point, Serin had left his bed there within the caves below the north mountains and was tearing things from the shelves he had built. Even the shelves were not strong enough. Claws dug into the wood and ripped at them. Splinters gouged his flesh and flying bits of wood tore at his face to leave marks.
Madness took a hold of him until everything in sight had been destroyed. He fell heavy to the stone floor of his subterranean bed chamber with a pain so great in his chest that he moaned from it. Serin fell to the floor completely to a pile that was once shelving and everything he had kept on them throughout the years. Gnarled, clawed fists beat against the stone ground until they were bloody, until the darkness closed around him entirely, blessing him with the loss of time.