The Ailing Empire 2

It was a year or so after I was enslaved and two years before the prince reaches adulthood. Garrus permitted me to join him at the Imperial College of Westford. Each day from nine-to-four, I donned a white high-collared dress suit for female students so that I could tuck in my cursed collar. The prince and I would leave via a secondary entrance to the palace and take a guarded carriage toward campus grounds. At college, I met three women from our last imperial ball. Shirley had auburn hair tied in graceful pigtails. Elizabeth's irises were blue like the sky with eyes that curved like a fox's. And Louise’s short stature and wide cheeks made her look like the perfect innocent child. The three had often visited me at the palace for tea parties after my imperial debut. I still sometimes wonder if they had originally approached me on Garrus' behalf to keep me tame.

Among the three, Elizabeth was the strictest in manners yet nonetheless kind like a mediating mother. Louise had a cheerful personality, endeavoring always to make me smile. However, she sometimes had a short temper that matched her cute rapid paces. Shirley felt the closest to me. She loved the skinship between us, though she was also wary of her personal set of boundaries. There was never a dull moment from Shirley, for she knew all sorts of rumors from outside the city walls.

Of all my classes, I believe I found Cultural Evolution the most interesting. My interest was mostly born from the school's anthropocentric examination of history, in particular concerning time during which I had been removed.

"Cultural Evolution is the study of time and culture," said Professor Eddington on our introductory day. "We examine the ways global cultures negotiate, adapt, and transform. My goal in this course is to make you all exemplary scholars on cultural studies. To that end, we will begin by learning about the birth of our universe and end by learning about the dominance of bipedalism. We shall mish-mash biology, religion, and politics to understand why cultures are what they are now. Now, let us begin with theories on the birth of our universe.

"But why should we begin here on the topic of culture when the concept itself has yet to exist? Certainly, these theories remain primarily in the realm of science. Yet, global religions have aligned with and adopted a prevailing theory that we were created. Science hesitates to apply a term, though religion has moved to name it God. Indeed, this theory has been substantiated by the uncovering of its descendant, who, for the first time in history, walks among us. But we'll leave her part in the puzzle for a later day."

Garrus and I sat center-left, by a window in the lecture hall. It was Autumn when my first semester began. The wind whisked dry oak leaves in swirls. Shadows of clouds grazed across campus paths, meandering with the morning current. Garrus placed a hand on my bare thigh, and I was immediately brought to what I thought as unjustified satisfaction in his eyes.

"Elaina, have your first day of classes been fun?" Shirley looked at me, jovially. She sat directly opposite of me, with Louise to her side and Elizabeth at my side.

The four of us were eating at the cafeteria. Garrus had left to sit with his own friend group. Lunch was served as a buffet. I'd taken honey-glazed salmon with asparagus and peas.

"It's been intriguing to hear studies of a time that I have witnessed first-hand. Politics was stressful, however. Not that I care of how this country operates, but the necessity to remember everyone's names is a pain. I can only otherwise comment about how often my prince harasses me."

Louise puffs up her cheeks. In a faux angry tone, she exclaimed, "If I were in your class, I would punch him square in the face for you. You can be sure of that!"

"I'm sure you would, Louise." Shirley giggles, her fingers shielding her lips with courtesy. "So, what about you? What are your impressions of this year's professors?"

"You remember Andrew, right? From Intro to Gomorian Lit in freshman. I think he's been leering at the girls in my class. Christoph's alright in Advanced Magi. Oh, but Larry—he's a saint! He's so calm and measured in class, and he always answers our questions so enthusiastically. And he's a looker, too! His eyes, oh his eyes! They're curved like the crescent moon!" Louise just about drools. I can see mashed peas in her mouth.

Elizabeth reaches over the table and dabs at Louise's mouth with a napkin. "My dear Louise. Don't let the professors hear that you're on a first-name basis."

During a free period, I stood on a quiet bridge between two lecture buildings. The air was tinged with sweat and chlorine. Nearby, intramural teams were training in an outdoor swimming pool. At another end of the campus, athletes were practicing frisbee in a field. Garrus walked up to my side. His hand peered through my hair, untucked my shirt from my skirt, and reached up my bare back. His fingertips, cold and irritable, skated across my skin.

"Did you tell your friends about your little massage?" he asked coldly.

"No," I replied, wincing away from his face. My whimpers were soft, trailing into the campus ambience.

"What was that?" He leaned in.

"No," I said resolutely. I bit at my tongue in defiance of these strange sensations I was receiving.

"I don't believe you."

After moving behind me, he left one hand to crawl toward my chest and another to reach under my skirt. He cradled my bra and squeezed my waist, all the while whispering honey-laced words into my ear. I grasped at the stone railings of the bridge and continued looking onward. I tried only to feel its ragged texture pierce and scrape my palms. My knees began to buckle with a mixture of fear and pleasure. And as I slouched, Garrus' large body began to engulf me. Minute by minute, he imprinted red marks my torso. Bruises encircled my neck. Then, the bell rang. I dropped to my knees, panting and undressed. The chatter of students rose from far below us.

"Get up."

But I couldn't.

"Get up." He grabbed my wrists and yanked me up. I shakily followed him into the restrooms.

Professor Eddington's office was a quaint hole. His desks and cabinets were built with Mahogony. His clothes continued a pervasive warm hue. I had visited him for office hours while Garrus joined his friends at their club room.

"Oh dear, oh dear." Professor Eddington removed a small pinkish bottle of ointment from his drawer and dabbed some cotton with its liquid. "Here, you can apply this across your neck."

The ointment smelled of roses. I felt it run down my neck when I pressed the cotton against my neck, for which Eddington passed me some tissues. Those marks were as clear as day, and Eddington must have known how they came to be. But he was in no position to accuse the prince, and societal stability was paramount to the ongoing functioning of the college.

"I dare not ask what happened," he said, "and I had hoped our first meeting would be happier."

"It's quite alright." I shook my head and thanked him for his concern.

"I must tell you, then, what an honor it is to host you in my class. Have you had any trouble adjusting to our campus?"

"It is certainly not as large as the Imperial Gardens, but it is also not as substantially monitored within. I've thus enjoyed my freedom walking around, attending presentations, and browsing the library unattended. It is also enjoyable to see collaboration between students and professors of different races and social standing, and I'm eager to see what I can learn from the professors here."

"That's fabulous. My colleagues and I have many questions we wish to ask of you. But we dare not speak too much with you. His Imperial Highness has quite the imposing presence, and there are whispers of his treatment of you."

"Of course. But, if I may discreetly help you with your research, perhaps you can write to me by letter. Perhaps when my conditions are more favorable and flexible."

"An excellent idea, Your Highness."

Footsteps clattered and collected by his door. Eddington didn't want anyone to hear of our conversation. He disposed of the cotton for me and then helped me up from my chair.

"Good day." I curtsied to him.

"Good day." He bowed to me.

One of Garrus' close friends at school was Phemus Langley, an experienced tactician later in his life although persistently weak in the arm. He was fragile at birth, requiring intensive care and nursing to pass through childhood. Still, his mind was strong. Of all things, he loved to read books and people's eyes.

I first met him at a clubroom. You see, Garrus and Phemus led a group called the Dark Knights. Although, it was just an excuse for them to reserve that room for hangouts. The club brought together a small friend circle of both nobles and commoners while the room itself was populated by snacks, pillows, board games, and comic books. They met only on the third and fifth day of each week. The clubroom was strictly a "no girls allowed" room while the boys were there. Which is why, on every other day, I could use the room to study. At times, I'd see another club member there as well. Phemus was one of them.

There was a center rectangular table in the square room. One end of the table sat below a large window facing the campus' central courtyard. Toward the other end, I sat facing Phemus. He was reading a book. I was doing my homework.

"Do you have time?" he asked.

"I do. What's up?"

"Have you ever read this book?" he inquired, flipping over its cover for me.

"No, I don't think so."

"Great. Then, I'd like to ask you a question. Consider that your country receives a saint from the heavens. This saint, a woman, is bequeathed with godly power. Yet, per her title, she only does good with her power, and she insists only to work for the people. Your people gather at her feet, and her influence grows throughout your land. Would you believe in this saint?"

"No. I'd be incredibly suspect of this saint's intentions. Are her powers true? And what is it that actually makes people follow her? I can think of Saint Serina as one example of a supposed saint. She abused an intoxicating pheromone to control the minds of her followers. Saint Julietta serves the only other possible case where a truly innocent maiden fed indirectly to the goals of a devious benefactor. The absoluteness of concepts such as purity is dangerous and can only safely exist in a society of absoluteness, which ours is not. What would your answer be?"

Phemus looked at me and smiled. "I think we are of similar minds, my lady. Society lacks transparency. Our leaders must absolutely act with subtlety, awareness, and care. And this fairytale," he motioned to and dropped his book on the table, "can never exist."

"Then why were you reading it?"

"For fun. Lighten up, dear girl. Not everything has to have meaning." He touches my hand on the table and muses my eyes. "Oval irises upon shades and shades of black. They are glorious," he whispered.

If one were to listen closely, one would only be able to hear our heartbeats in the room. The wind that trickled in was zoned out of the focus in our gazes. I did not understand what Phemus intended. After a couple minutes, footsteps neared the doorway. Phemus released my hand. Garrus swung the door open.

"Oh, Your Highness is back." Phemus stood up.

Garrus' eyes narrowed at his friend, but he casted his suspicion away at the sight of me. He extended a hand toward me. "Time to go."

"Garrus, my friend. You aren't monopolizing Her Highness' presence, are you?"

"Do you intend to take her away from me?" Garrus joked.

"Of course not. But her public appearances have lessened as of late. And her interactions with scholars are already rare. Wouldn't it benefit the empire to loosen your control over her?"

Garrus reached toward my face. I closed my eyes. He brushed my hair behind my ears. "Look at her. Now that she's mine, the empire will persist for as long as she lives. We have no need to hurry progress."

Phemus knew not to push at his friend. I knew by then that he wanted something more from our relationship, but Garrus stood in the way. In Phemus' eyes, I saw less so jealousy than uncertainty. I wondered what he saw in mine.

On the carriage ride home, I sat across from Garrus, behind the driver's seat.

"In truth, we do have some knowledge of your body's properties," he admitted. "The scholars who first scaled your caldera dispersed their knowledge years ago. That is how I found you."

"Why tell me this?"

"Phemus had mentioned it before. All I had intended was to allow you a place at my side, as a standing symbol of the empire's might. However, it is ultimately up to you to take a more active role as my future empress-consort." He looked out the carriage windows, silently musing over something. He continued, "I know you are wiser than you look and that you hold a sympathy toward all life beyond what anyone can imagine. So, I shall be transparent with you. You hold a latent key to things we cannot imagine. When you unleash it, as the records foretell, the world will never be the same.

"You haven't been privy to my latest timeline discussions, so I will tell you now. After I have removed my uncle, I will annex our bordering countries to create a united mainland. It is time we eliminate the nomad barbarians and eradicate the straying religious doctrines. That is why you will be my queen: to unite the people's belief under you. However, my plans also hinge on improved trade and political relations with our various Elven and Dwarven allies, as well as the overseas states. If we do not curry their favor, neutrals and allies alike may turn to oppose us in the operation."

"You will allow me to bestow material gifts unto you."

"We will use those gifts to persuade countries for our cause. In doing so, you will undoubtedly change the world." Garrus moved to my side. In a rare move, he laid his head to rest on my shoulder. "Elaina. I find you... precious to me. I will love you whether you return my love. Though I will have you serve me, I will never put you in harm's way. I will never allow anyone to experiment on you. And I will never allow anyone to kill you."

I pushed him away and moved against the carriage side. "It's rich of you to ring these words when I am otherwise an object in your eyes. Is the god in front of you truly the same as the one you see in your mind?" I asked, my words laced in frustration.

"What do you mean?"

"You dress me as you wish. You drag me around like a puppet. You routinely force yourself onto me. And now you ask me to benefit your empire with my strength. For what? For nothing in my benefit?"

"Oh, but you know you will do it." Bit by bit, he inched close, until he pushed me against the carriage walls. "You have no choice, because I know you. I understand you. Look. Look at these peasants outside the window." I turned my head toward the fruit seller, the baker, the homeless woman and her child as we passed them. The hand mirror of a strolling lady glints and shines toward the carriage ceiling. "You don't care about any of them," he slithered into my ear. "You can't care, because they are just toys to you. An ephemeral fancy that will pass like dust in the breeze. That is why you will introduce us to the secret within your body, for the entertainment that will form in the years to come.

"But! Like I said, it's totally up to you." He shrugged.

"You are putrid."

"And you, my slave, are the pinnacle of beauty."

He assaulted me, unbuttoning my shirt and planting kisses against my collarbone. I pushed against the pressure of his body. But weak as I physically was, I did nothing but arouse his desire to dominate. He pinned my legs and arms and jerked against me with the bobbing carriage.

When we left the carriage, clothes ruffled by the ride, he whispered again. "Think it over, Daughter of the Void. My goddess. My slave. My love."