We had been completely irresponsible, skipping important duties for physical pleasure. But after experiencing intimacy with him, there was absolutely nothing in this entire world I could honestly say was more pleasurable than this. When Aiona had previously told me that she and her mate used to tangle up together for weeks at a time, I had secretly judged her harshly. Is she just a maniac obsessed with intercourse? I had thought at that time, somewhat smugly.
But now that supposedly crazy maniac would be me instead. No matter how hard I kissed him, sucked on his skin, bit him, or moved against him, it somehow wasn't enough. It was like being perpetually tormented by endless, insatiable hunger that could never be fully satisfied. Is that what this bond felt like for all mated dragons?
I genuinely didn't want to let Arvid go, didn't want to stop touching him. I felt like I couldn't get enough of him no matter how much we did. I wanted to have him forever and ever, again and again without end. I recognized this was a dangerous and somewhat obsessive way of thinking. But I simply couldn't help myself. All of my usual rationality and self-control had become completely muddled and overwhelmed by this addictive, sweet pleasure.
No wonder dragons were characterized as such possessive creatures in all the legends. This kind of intensely addictive ecstasy could only be granted to them by their one and only soulmate—their destined fated mate. No wonder they became so obsessed and possessive over their mates, willing to burn down kingdoms if they were threatened.
Finally, after midday had already passed, I was forced to reluctantly let Arvid go. Very much against my will and every instinct screaming at me to keep him here. He had already postponed his important court session to late afternoon to spend more time with me. And the session absolutely could not be postponed any further without causing serious political problems—that was the firm reason he gave me before he managed to escape my clutches and possessive embrace.
After he hurriedly got up, bathed quickly, dressed himself in his formal court attire, and essentially fled through the door in what seemed like such an impossibly short time—I found myself just sitting there staring blankly at the closed door he had left through.
A profound feeling of emptiness along with a sharp touch of loneliness began to creep slowly up my spine, making me feel genuinely miserable and bereft.
"Aiona?" I reached out to her presence within me, desperately wanting to feel her there inside of me, needing the comfort of not being completely alone.
"Well, well. Separation anxiety already?" she asked in her characteristically deep, husky voice with a knowing sigh mixed into the words. She didn't sound surprised at all.
"Was it the same with you and your mate?" I asked her, wanting to know more about her experience. Or perhaps just wanting to feel better by knowing I wasn't the only one who felt this way—finding some comfort in others' shared suffering.
"It was considerably worse for me, actually," she said quietly. "Because I eventually saw him dead, cold and lifeless. I cannot adequately describe with mere words what I felt in that moment. The grief was so overwhelming that I felt even if I burned down the entire world to ashes, even if I destroyed every living thing, the unbearable pain wouldn't go away or diminish even slightly."
The words took some considerable time to fully register in my consciousness. Wait—what did she mean she saw him dead? And why did I have this terrible sinking feeling that he wasn't dead because of natural causes or old age?
"What happened to him?" I asked cautiously, almost afraid to hear the answer.
She didn't answer for some time. It felt like she was carefully contemplating whether or not to tell me about that traumatic part of her past, weighing whether I was ready.
At last she heaved a long, defeated sigh. "...he... killed him," was all she said simply.
But those few words landed on my chest like a massive, heavy boulder, squeezing me so tightly I genuinely couldn't breathe properly. This wasn't even my own personal grief to carry—these were her centuries-old memories. But the pain felt like it was settling directly on my soul, as if I personally had been robbed of everything that had ever made me happy. The vicarious agony was overwhelming.
It was madness. Pure madness born of earth-shattering, reality-destroying grief. No wonder she had burned everything down in her rage and pain. How could anyone blame her?
"But why? Why would that person do that to him?" I said through building sobs, tears already beginning to spill from my eyes. "And who exactly are 'he' that killed him?"
Aiona fell into silence once again, this time a much more prolonged one that stretched uncomfortably.
"I'll show it all to you tonight, in a dream," she said finally with absolute finality in her tone. "You deserve to know the full truth. But I need time to prepare myself to relive those memories."
---
After she made that promise, Aiona went completely unresponsive and silent through and through. She didn't answer me again no matter how many urgent, boiling questions poured out of me in rapid succession. I had no choice but to wait impatiently for tonight.
But I remained anxious through and through, a constant low-level panic that made me need to go and wait outside the court chamber for Arvid until he was finally done with his session.
Then we had lunch together, and I stayed pressed close to his side. After that meal, Arvid informed me he needed to go to the barracks to conduct an important meeting with his military officers. Without even thinking about it, I immediately followed him there.
He looked at me with a questioning, slightly confused gaze, clearly wondering about my unusually clingy behavior. But he didn't actually verbally ask me why I was physically clinging to him like my very life depended on his presence.
He graciously seated me right next to him in the barracks meeting room—which had been relocated to a different, more secure room after the previous one had been compromised. He pulled a chair close to his own so I could sit beside him during official business.
The military strategy meeting began shortly after. Though the assembled military leaders looked at me with obvious confusion about why the empress was attending a tactical military meeting, they ultimately decided not to give my presence too much thought or make an issue of it. They had more important matters to discuss.
Today's primary topic was obviously the captured elf spy and what should be done with him.
"We absolutely have to execute him publicly to set a proper example, Your Majesty!" one of the more aggressive officers declared firmly, drawing my wandering attention back to the discussion. A few other officers nodded and voiced their agreement with this harsh recommendation.
"No," I spoke up suddenly, sitting upright in my chair with authority. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at me in surprise.
"We could potentially use him as bait to catch the others in his network," I explained my reasoning. "For that purpose, we need him alive and functional, not dead."
Arvid was the very first to agree with my tactical assessment. "Yes, exactly right. Even though keeping him alive carries some risk, we need to capture the other members of this conspiracy. So we definitely need him alive for that purpose."
He continued, "And besides, even if he were formally prosecuted for his crimes, he would only be officially charged with using a fake identity and stealing classified information. Those offenses alone aren't legally sufficient to warrant execution under our laws. Though he clearly has a direct connection to the mysterious elf who provided the magic crystal to that Dergu woman assassin, we can't legally execute him just for knowing someone else who committed crimes."
"But how exactly do we use him?" one of the more senior officers asked the practical question. "What's the actual plan here?"
"If he remains imprisoned here in Arpa under heavy guard, I genuinely doubt his accomplices would ever risk showing up to try to rescue or contact him," another officer pointed out. "They'd know it was too dangerous."
"That's precisely why we are going to free him," Arvid announced calmly, leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk, combining them below his chin in a contemplative gesture.
The room erupted in shocked protests and objections at this seemingly insane suggestion.