Chapter Text
“Careful, Lord Captain!” Heinrix clutched her arm and pulled her back from the barrier against his powerful chest. “Warp energies churn unrestrained behind that barrier. We are most likely close to the source of corruption.”
Isha interlaced her fingers with his for a glimpse, and his gaze softened before the deep creases between his brows returned. Since boarding the ship belonging to the planetary defence force, they had fought their way through waves of assailants, all horrifically mutated. Hurtling towards Dargonus, the frigate had sent a distress call on all frequencies. However, trying to hail the ship on a direct collision course with Hive von Valancius had been futile. The messages Vigdis had received were corrupted beyond recognition – a cacophony of groans and shouts with only one string of syllables decipherable – Isha’s name, repeated in a loop.
Was there a stain on Heinrix’s face? Her hand wandered to his cheek. She probably shouldn’t do this. She wetted her thumb, tasting earth and copper, and wiped the mark away, leaving a smudged scarlet smear behind.
“What in the Emperor’s name are you doing,” he hissed, clasping her wrist.
“There was a spot, probably lipstick, perhaps blood.” She grazed his earlobe. Gunpowder smell clung to his hair, overpowering his familiar scent of leather and sandalwood. The brush of her lips against his skin unleashed an excited ripple down the vein running along his neck. “Or do you want to keep that sign of our previous engagement visible to tarnish the Lord Captain’s reputation?”
“What you’re doing isn’t helping your reputation either, Isha.”
“No?” she smirked. “Don’t tempt me further. We still have unfinished business…”
“You picked up your seneschal’s call, not me.” Cocking his head, he pursed his lips. “Don’t complain now.”
Emperor, I should kiss you to shut you up!
Instead, she nudged him in the waist. “Go on, Heinrix, and you won’t share my bed tonight.”
“Somehow, I doubt the veracity of your threat…”
“The colours of the Lord Captain and Master van Calox change when they are next to each other. Every time. Whole fields of flowers in blushing pinks and flaming reds spring into full bloom with purple buds as deep as the ripest grapes mixed in. It is delightful. Watching the painting unfold stirs unknown emotions in me.”
Heinrix let go of her wrist like it was as hot as the sun's surface. Both turned as one to the navigator, who hid her giggle behind a claw-like hand pressed to her lips. Heat rushed through Isha’s cheeks and ears when an icy wave washed over her. Within seconds, Heinrix’s usual detached demeanour returned. Not capable of the same feat, Isha hid her burning face behind her locks.
“Cassia,” Sister Argenta said. “I do not need a third eye to see what is right before me. You need to learn to rely on your normal eyes as well.”
“Does anyone else want to add to Lady Cassia’s observation?”
She glowered at her retinue, clutching a hand tightly into a fist. The row of faces tried their best to pretend they hadn’t witnessed the earlier exchange, except for Idira, who tried her best to muffle the cackling building in her chest.
Overturned bookcases, a grandfather clock, still counting the hours and minutes, and other lumber stacked high before them blocked the way up a flight of steps.
“Gentlemen, would you please,” she beckoned the men to the pile of rubble. Nobody moved. “We don’t have all day…”
Another glare provided enough encouragement. Heinrix and Abelard hoisted the first piece of furniture and chucked it down the stairs. The clock split on the iron column with one last gong. Removing the wedge had set off an avalanche of debris. Unsettled by the sudden impact, a bookshelf slanted downwards on a course to bury Heinrix under it.
“Watch out… That case is loose,” she yelled, pressing herself against the corridor wall.
Heinrix lurched to the side. Stepping on air, he tumbled backwards, hands searching for something to hold on to. The massive bookcase missed him by a whisker. It bolted down the steps, surfing off towards the end of the hallway on the thin carpet, where it disintegrated in a thump. Finally, he seized an iron column and steadied himself. With a crunch, his ankle twisted. Isha winced at the sound, but he didn’t pause. An icy cloud settled around him as he returned to help Sister Argenta and Abelard to clear the barricade.
Behind the barrier, a door with a gigantic aquila etched into the metal came into view. Muffled groans and slapping wet sounds pierced the thick iron. Salvos of gunfire answered, and the noises died down. A sulfuric taste lingered in the air. Motioning for her seneschal and Heinrix to take point with the Sister, she stayed behind with Idira and Cassia.
“Yes, there’s trouble up ahead, Isha, the little voices agree,” Idira said, taking cover beside her. “And my voices whisper of something else, too, and boy, are they excited. Perhaps the Iceman should take things down a notch? He could be caught with his pants down. Figuratively or literally, I’m not sure.”
“The only thing more priceless than this profound augury,” Heinrix quipped, “is the expression of the people who just heard it.”
“Mistress Tlass isn’t wrong, though, van Calox,” Abelard grumbled. “Your cavorting with the Lord Captain is a distraction to anyone else unfortunate enough to witness it.”
Isha pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle the sounds bubbling up in her throat, but in vain. The laughter broke free and bounced excitedly between the walls of the corridor. She glanced at Heinrix, whose nostrils flared, and her amusement evaporated as fast as a snowball in the desert. Glaring daggers at Idira and Abelard, he clenched his jaw so tight she feared he’d bite through the iron doors.
Pushing her shoulders back, she rose out of cover. “Everybody, please, we are still in the middle of an insurgency.” She motioned towards the Navigator’s Sanctum. “Let’s not get distracted.”
A wave of cold air raked a thousand icy slivers over her skin, gathering as frost on the locks framing her face. She pushed her hands onto her hips, jutting her chin forward like a Commissar talking to his cowering troops. To Idira’s luck, she wasn’t the type to shoot the offending party to enforce compliance – not when they provided a never-ending source of entertainment.
To the void with it all!
“To clear any lingering confusion for the here gathered, Master van Calox and I have indeed deepened our working relationship–”
“Isha!” Heinrix pleaded.
“Have deepened our working relationship since the Magnae Accessio, and we explore the depths of our shared affection,” her lips curled into a roguish smile, “repeatedly, thoroughly and to the satisfaction of all parties involved. I hope this statement corrects any misunderstandings in the minds of those gathered.”
“It shreds the last remnants of hope of those not enthused by the thought of the Lord Captain fraternising with the Inquisition,” Abelard griped.
“Fraternising?” She raised an eyebrow. “Field testing the sturdiness of the Lord Captain’s furniture would describe it more correctly.” She winked at Heinrix, whose tight grimace unwound into a sly grin. “Let that be the last word wasted on the issue.”
“With the greatest pleasure, Lord Captain,” he asserted, his voice dipping into the cocky self-satisfaction she had come to love in him, and the temperature around her rose back to normal, leaving a clammy sheen on her skin. “As is everything I do in your company.”
“Lord Captain,” the seneschal concurred.
“And with that, the Iceman hath melted.” Warp energies crackled purple along the wooden length, and Idira gripped her psy-staff with force. “Who would have thought that possible?”
Anguished cries for help penetrated the metal with renewed urgency. They breached the door into the Navigator’s Sanctum, where the air was heavy with iron and sulphur. What was left of the enforcers stationed on the voidship fought a losing battle against a gaggle of mutants – their former shipmates corrupted by whatever calamity had befallen them. Auto-pistol shots rattled through the room, countered by red streaks of laser fire. Under bolter salvos ripping everything apart, Argenta dashed into the gunpowder haze. Abelard and Heinrix advanced behind her, slaying anyone surviving the first assault. Soon, blood and entrail splatters stained the walls red and brown.
Once the smoke cleared, a lonely figure ducked out of cover. Clad in the violet robes of a navigator, he wiped the sweat from his brows in a gesture Isha had observed in Cassia, too – with two fingers to avoid hurting the third eye bulging from his forehead. The gangly man pushed his shoulders back and jutted his chin forward before bowing gracefully as if he had not just emerged from a gruelling battle but welcomed his sovereign on an uneventful day.
On the Navigator’s throne, fingernails had peeled back the upper layers of the umber wood, deep grooves revealing amber trails on the armrests. The arched windows behind the survivor provided no view of the outside. Marching down the steps, her retinue flanked her like an honour guard, with Heinrix at his rightful place behind her right shoulder. The excessive eyes blooming like grotesque flowers around the temples of the bloodless corpses lining her way towards the navigator bristled the hair on her neck. She stopped some distance before an ancient-looking stone sarcophagus, covering her mouth and nose with a handkerchief. Appraising the container, adorned by hewn skulls, and covered in purity seals and ancient scripture, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Smoke curled around her ankles and wrists. A whisper grew in her mind to remove the heavy lid and release whatever it contained.
“My greetings, Your Ladyship,” the man said, arms clasped into the sign of the aquila. “I am Hann of House Cassini, Navigator of this vessel, and I assumed command after… the incident. And greetings to you, Lady Navigator.” He decorously dipped his head to Cassia. “What an unexpected, although altogether pleasant, meeting, considering the circumstances. How fares the honourable regent?”
“Cassia Orsellio, heir to House Orsellio,” she replied with a curt nod. “Cordiality does not disguise the ice-blue coldness of your words. Still, I will tell Regent Aaronto that you inquired about his health. You may pass on my best wishes to Novator Cassini. But let us set these pleasantries aside,” she curtsied towards Isha, “I am sure Lady von Valancius wishes to speak with you.”
“Why was this ship hurtling towards Dargonus, Hann?” she mumbled through the handkerchief. Heinrix’s perfume, lingering like a faint memory in its weave, provided a fleeting moment of comfort. Once she removed the fine cloth, the cloyingly sweet smell of death assaulted her senses through shallow breaths. “What happened to the ship and crew?”
Purplish streaks clouded her vision, and her voice was muffled as if she spoke through cotton. The crimson carpet squelched with every step she took. Still, she was drawn like a puppet on strings towards the sarcophagus. A hand fell on her shoulder, the weight intimately familiar.
“Focus, Lord Captain! Slow, steady breaths… in and out…” Concern laced Heinrix’s tone. “Anchor on my voice, and don’t touch the stone.”
“Hm…?”
She squinted against the haze. Her fingers hovered a hairsbreadth over the parchment covering the artefact. The air churned hot and cold under her fingertips, and the whispers in her ears swelled to an angry chorus. Could nobody else hear them beckoning?
“Isha!”
Heinrix clutched her wrist with a force so strong she feared he might snap her arm in two like a twig. Regarding her with wide eyes, his face was as pale as a sheet. When she recoiled from him, he relented and released his grip. A thick welt marred her skin where he had held her, and she buried her hand deep in her coat pocket. The bruise itched like frostbite. What had happened?
“The ship was assigned to pick up a package for Your Ladyship, and we set out to fulfil this task immediately. Taking the sarcophagus aboard, we were instructed to deliver it to you. Personally. Without delay. We were even shown a pict of Your Ladyship.” Staring at his feet, the navigator nestled with the hem of his sleeves. “Disaster struck during the warp jump back to the Mundus Valancius System. Preoccupied with steering the vessel through the Sea of Souls, I’m not partial to all the details, but something compelled the captain to open the package. That,” he remarked wryly, “as you might have noticed, had a most destructive impact on the crew.”
“What was inside this package?”
Open me, the sarcophagus whispered. See for yourself. Purple coiling around her wrists compelled her to lift the lid and behold the glory of a new dawn. I contain untold secrets.
No!
Anchoring her mind on Heinrix, she edged away from the artefact, moving as though she waded underwater. A wall of ice greeted her. Bracing herself to breach the frost, she took another step. And another one. One more. Closer to Heinrix. To safety. Once she had passed through the barrier, the tempting voices ebbed away. A giant weight lifted from her shoulders. She exchanged a glimpse with Heinrix, his gaze asking a quiet question, and she answered with a reassuring nod.
“A Chaos artefact, a bomb, if you will. The moment it was freed from its protective cocoon, the crew lost their mind, first the captain and senior officers.” Hann licked his lips. “But the effect spread with incredible speed until nobody sane was left but myself and the few people I had gathered here. We isolated the source of danger and ensured the ship reached the Mundus Valancius. Once there, we sent a distress call, hoping someone would come to our aid. Then Your Ladyship arrived.” He folded his hands in front of him like in prayer. “It’s a miracle!”
“So, this ‘Chaos bomb’ was meant for me? Who was the sender?”
“As far as I know, the order came from your Master of Whispers.”
“Kunrad Voigtvir?” Heinrix and she said in unison.
“The traitor to House von Valancius?” Abelard bellowed. “That blasted cur. Void, take him! How did he manipulate our vox systems to fake an order like this?”
“How indeed, Werserian?” Narrowing his eyes, Heinrix leaned towards the seneschal. “This is not the first time the security around the palace and the planetary defences has been shown to be severely deficient. If I were to advise the Lord Captain, I’d order a thorough audit of all individuals and systems involved with Her Ladyship’s personal safety.” Hidden from view, he interlaced his fingers with hers, brushing his thumb against the welt, and a soothing calm spread inside her. “An individual like the former Master of Whispers will not stop at sending a Chaos artefact to your palace in his attempt to destabilise your protectorate, Isha.”
“Your reaction suggests you were not expecting a package of this sort. That is good to know,” Hann blurted out. “I had almost convinced myself the Lord Captain had wished for this delivery.”
“Do not dare accuse me of colluding with Chaos!” Puffing her chest out, she clutched Heinrix’s hand so tight he flinched. Her gaze was as icy as her tone, and the remnants of the serene calmness his care had stirred in her withered away. “Do not even suggest it if you value your life!”
“I beg your pardon.” The navigator bowed stiffly. “I am too tired to speak diplomatically.”
“Heinrix, I concur with your suggestion. Will you draft a proposal regarding the security audits you wish to perform?” One glimpse at him all worried, and her posture softened with her voice. “You can work on it on the return to Dargonus, and, Abelard,” she regarded her seneschal, who opened and closed a fist around the hilt of his chain sword as if he wanted to strangle someone, “offer Master van Calox any assistance he requires. I expect a thorough assessment report in ten turns at the latest. If personnel must be removed, you have my permission to act as you see fit.”
“Lord Captain,” both men assented, one eagerly pleased, the other with a grim resignation in his tone.
“Now to you, Navigator Hann.” The man flinched at the sound of his name. “When did the ship receive the order to pick up this package?”
“We left Dargonus a mere thirty turns ago.”
A bemused frown accompanied her question. “What day of the year was that?”
“On the 90th day of the year 999 of the Imperial calendar.” He stroked his jaw. “And we did not spend much time in the Immaterium. The jump only led us to a system farther from the Mundus Valancius. Why is Your Ladyship asking?”
“Navigator Hann, today is the 190th day of the year 999,” Heinrix stated. “In the time you spent lost in the warp, vile xenos attacked Dargonus, the Lord Captain celebrated her Magnae Accessio, and Kunrad Voigtvir was officially declared a traitor soon after you departed the planetary orbit.”
All blood left the man’s face, and he retreated under his purple cowl. “Then the sender wanted all of this,” he made a sweeping gesture, “to happen to your capital, not our ship.”
“Could the effect of a Chaos artefact unfold like this,” she motioned at the mutated corpses littering the ground, “outside of the warp, Heinrix?”
Glowering at the navigator, he jutted his chin forward. “Without a doubt. Perhaps not with the same immediate force, but the Ruinous Powers’ hold on human minds doesn’t lessen outside the Immaterium. If this ‘Chaos bomb’ had reached Dargonus and the palace before you, Isha, it could have corrupted all members of your court, making them even more amenable to the traitor’s demands and the demands of his master.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Since warp sorcery can poison thoughts and corrupt souls, it seems luck was on your side this time. Where is this artefact, Navigator Hann?”
The man tensed at the stern address. Stiffly, he pointed at the stone sarcophagus and a laugh light as the morning breeze caressed her ears.
Go on, open it.
The whisper pierced the protective cocoon of icy filaments Heinrix had spun around her. She clutched at his hand like a lifeline, and his warm care spread through two layers of leather, melting the frost covering their gloves. A thick vein at his temple throbbed agitatedly. Moments later, the voice was expelled from her mind, and she expelled a choked breath.
“I placed it inside this protective container, proscribed it with litanies and adorned it with purity seals. It is more reliable than its previous repository.” Hann’s voice strained in a grimace. “Unfortunately, I lacked the resources to destroy it under the circumstances, but once we evacuate the ship, I will find a way to destroy the vile… thing!”
“That won’t be necessary.” She patted Heinrix’s arm. “Right beside me stands a member of one of the holy ordos of the Inquisition. Master van Calox speaks with the full authority of the Golden Throne; he will dispose of it safely.”
The words tasted sour in her mouth. That damnable organisation! Still, who else but he had the resources and knowledge at his disposal to deal with a tainted chaos artefact?
His mouth curled into the faintest memory of a smile before his expression returned to his usual stern demeanour. “With your permission, Lord Captain, I posit we leave it on the frigate and detonate both from a safe distance. We can’t risk the ship reaching Dargonus. Nobody but us should be permitted to leave.”
“Then make it so.”
Once he had left her side, the chorus of angry voices scolding her came back to life in her mind as an invisible force clutched at her throat. Purple tendrils digging into her flesh dragged her towards the sarcophagus, and she stumbled forward without recourse. A peek wouldn’t harm her, would it? Only a glimpse…
From far away, the navigator’s words pierced her cocoon. “I must take you at your word, as there’s no other choice left. And what will become of me?” His gaze scuttled about the room. “And of the remaining crew?”
“There’s no…” Her voice echoed distorted in her head as though it was transmitted and re-transmitted through a line of vox-casters. A shrill beep wailed in her ear, and darkness encroached on her from all sides. “There’s no one else left, Hann.”
Heinrix caught her before she broke her fall on the artefact. “Are you well, Isha?” He brushed over her back, and the strain on her shoulders lessened with each stroke. She was tempted to sink into his comforting arms, but instead, she straightened her back. “You are worrying me.”
The livid voices in her head subsided. She blinked against the light flooding the room all too brightly. Pinching her eyes, she spread tears under closed eyelids until the pain subsided when icy fingers reached out to her. Before they breached her body, they were yanked back, leaving a layer of rime on her uniform behind.
“I’m sorry, Isha,” Heinrix leaned so close, his breath tickled her neck, “old habits. Are you well?”
“With you close…” Like dew on a gossamer-spun spider’s net in the summer sunshine, the seductive whispers evaporated in the air. “Thank you.”
“Always.”
His hand hovered a hairsbreadth over her cheek. Instead of caressing her face, he coiled it into a tight fist, and she was left yearning for his touch.
“Why did the madness not affect you, Navigator Hann?” The man recoiled at his name spoken with such force. Striding forward with sure steps, clutching the hilt of the force sword, Heinrix jutted his chin out. “Hann Cassini, why did you but nobody else escape corruption?”
Careful to steer clear from the sarcophagus, he encroached on the navigator. Backed into the steering unit, the man fell to his knees and confessed with trembling lips:
“I… I’m a Navigator, and I was…” He swallowed. “We have been taught to resist the influence of the Ruinous Powers since birth, and so have I. Please…” He clasped his hands. “Please, let me live. I beg you, Lord Captain, show mercy!” His body shook under Heinrix’s ever-growing interest.
Tasting metal on her tongue, she squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t banish Heinrix’s ferocious voice.
“How can the Lord Captain be sure you are not spreading corruption once she takes you aboard her ship?”
Heat rushed through her body. Would Heinrix relent if she called him back? Her mouth ran dry. Her ears, face, and neck sweltered as though she had run a sprint.
“I… I will be frank with you, Master v-v-van Calox,” the navigator wheezed. “I… I cannot be certain that I have avoided it completely.” Fabric shuffled over the floor. She forced her eyes open. Still on his knees, Hann raised his pleading hands to her: “Your Ladyship, there are no visible indications. Yet. Please, show mercy.”
“Let’s summarise the facts, Hann Cassini,” Heinrix stroked his chin, “you are not certain if the corruption of the artefact did affect you even after you handled it, and you petition the Lord Captain to be merciful. Should she in her benevolence,” he stressed the word with such malice it choked her, “take you aboard the Mercy of the Stars, and you carry the taint of the Ruinous Powers, she will at best condemn the crew of her ship and at worst the whole dynasty to eternal suffering.” He rounded the man, who shook and shivered under his stern gaze. “I posit, you know, that the chaos artefact did affect you, albeit not as strongly as the others. I can tell by your reaction.”
Her skin tingled like a thousand tiny insects skittered over it. Did anyone else hear the beeping, or was that all in her mind? She pressed a palm to her ear. The ringing didn’t vanish. She should intervene on the man’s behalf – he did save Dargonus from a serious calamity – but no sound escaped her throat. Her hands trembled, and she opened and closed a fist. It was nothing, a single sentence, and Heinrix would relent.
“Heinrix…” His head jerked towards the sound, and he cocked an eyebrow as if he’d expect to be called back. “Will you…” Her voice faltered. “Grant him a swift death, will you? And then we’ll leave this cursed place.”
“But of course, Lord Captain!”
Her stomach lurched at the eagerness in his voice. With a hand clutched to her mouth, she struggled to keep the mix of wine, cheese, and bread down. Acid seared her throat. It was done. The navigator’s screaming rang in her ears when she ascended the steps. It was a scream that would haunt her dreams long after today. The rest of her retinue parted before her, and she hurried down the corridor —away from Heinrix and the strangled wailing.
***
“Skully, fetch Master van Calox.” The servo-skull grumbled, not unlike Abelard would make were he tasked with the same request. “Of course you will.” Another disagreeing beep. “He won’t hurt you. Don’t be silly.” She rotated the skull, scratching behind an augment mounted to the temporal bone until she had coaxed a satisfied purr from the depth of his vox unit. “I can always ask Lieutenant Vent instead…”
“Brrrr…Beep. Beeeep.”
“See, off you go.”
After another pat on his head, Skully floated out of the bath.
When she kept perfectly still, Hann Cassini’s pleas for mercy still haunted her, so for the last days, she had buried herself day and night in work to occupy her brain, and the list of tasks Skully presented her with had grown shorter by the hour. She couldn’t hide from Heinrix forever in her quarters and didn’t want to. He had only acted on her command, had he not? But she couldn’t forget the eagerness in his voice. His behaviour had spooked her like a Malfian racehorse, and now she had completed an imaginary obstacle course halfway through the voidship with nobody around to stop her. No, it was no way to conduct herself – as the Lord Captain or his lover.
Slipping out of the silken dressing gown, she descended into the balmy water laced with lavender and bergamot scents. Oily streaks shimmered on the surface, reflecting the low light of the few candles placed around the ledge and the opposite side of the bath as twinkling stars. Once the water lapped at her collarbone, the strained muscles in her back softened. A pleasant languor spread throughout her body, and she leaned back, the water catching her in its embrace. Humming the melody of her favourite song, with only the rush of the waterfall down into the sprawling pool as accompaniment, a sense of peace filled her. Lost in time, she floated on her back and tracked the swirls and whirls resembling a universe made of stars on the ceiling.
But peace could not last. After drifting like a cloud for a while, she began listening for footsteps that never came, tensing at each creak of the elevator or hiss of the air recycling unit. Paddling back to the pool's edge, she searched for her vox-bead. The space around the lavish bath was empty, the Master of Ablutions and the enforcers dismissed. She found the comm-unit among the opulent feast spread. Before she could put the vox-bead in her ear, rushed footsteps striking iron drifted into the bath.
“Lord Captain?” Muffled steps replaced the metal thumps. “Isha? Where are you?”
“I’m in the bath!”
Heinrix rounded the corner, dressed in full uniform and clutching a data slate. Mouth agape, his gaze flew over her naked form floating in the bath, halting at the curve of her behind, peeking out of the water like two supple, milk-white hills.
“Isha, is this a matter of terrible urgency, or,” his lips hardened into a thin line, “did you simply call me here for your amusement?”
“Since when is it a crime wanting to spend time with my–”
He cut the air with a gesture as sharp as a Drukhari blade, the data-slate almost slipping his grasp, before clasping his hands behind his back. “On second thought, don’t answer. I believe I have assessed the situation for myself. I’ll leave the preliminary report I have been working on for the last few days on your desk, Lord Captain.”
“Lord Captain?!” Irritation rose in her voice as she rose from her float. The last remnants of serenity evaporated like mist in the sunshine. “What in the Emperor’s name is going on, Heinrix? You were unduly late, which is most unusual for you, and now you want to leave immediately?”
“It is nothing to worry about.” Staring at his boots, he bowed curtly and, turning on his heels, the cape caught in his legs. “I simply recognise when my company is no longer desired.”
“Master van Calox, I have not dismissed you!”
He paused mid-step, and they exchanged a tense look until he averted his gaze. Shoulders slumping, he trudged to the sprawling couch, where he perched on the edge. Dwarfed by the gigantic leaves of the lush plants hanging from the ceiling, he bounced the leg crossed over his knee. The air recycling units released a gust of cool air, and a thread of ropy muscles knit themselves together between her shoulder blade and her spine. Struggling for words, she bit her lip. Why was he angry at her?! It was she who had all right to be angry!
“I suppose it is entertainment you desire? Very well.” His voice was laced with a stilted formality. “I will give you something to occupy your idleness with…”
“Idleness?!” She swallowed against the constriction building in her throat. “What foul mood has taken hold of you, Heinrix?”
He rubbed his neck. “It is a simple game of intellect, often played in our conclave. You are a smart woman, Isha,” his cheek ticked once her name passed his lips, “you will figure it out. I will give you a fact about my life, and you must discern whether it is a truth or a lie.”
“If this is a way to force me to punish you for your insolent conduct, it is not working.” Her shoulders crept to her ears, and she massaged the ridge of muscles running along her upper back. It didn’t release the tension in her body, so she pushed off the ledge, submerging herself until the water lapped at her chin. “You are behaving petulantly like a child, Heinrix. It’s unbecoming of you.”
Unspoken anguish flitted over his face, gone so fast she couldn’t track it to its source. He coughed once as if to dislodge a lump stuck in his throat.
“How fitting then; this is about a childhood secret,” he said, spreading his arms wide to demonstrate anything but ease. “Shall we begin?”
Sweat beaded her forehead. “If it helps you with whatever troubles you,” wiping the droplets away, she left an oily smear on her skin, “be my guest.”
“I betrayed my family and caused the death of innocent people,” his voice strained against an invisible obstruction, “and I was never punished for my actions.” He rose from his perch and stalked towards the edge of the pool. Crossing his arms, he tilted his head, and his fingers strummed an impatient beat on his forearms. “Truth or lie, Isha?”
If Heinrix wanted her to believe he was lying he gave a poor impression of a liar. No, something was troubling him. Had something aboard that forsaken ship sparked this memory? It wasn’t her behaviour, or his gaze wouldn’t cling to her curves like he’d drown if he’d let her out of his sight. She reviewed the phrasing of the rules: He either told the truth or lied – a clear binary. During her years as a diplomat, she had learned that events rarely slotted into these neat categories, where a cause-and-effect sequence led to an obvious result with one single actor to blame. Humans tended to muddy the waters with lies of omission and obfuscation of the facts. Heinrix had done the same. What if his statement was both true and false?
“Well, you have neither told a lie…” He arched an eyebrow as he curled his upper lip into a sneer. “Nor have you told the whole truth. You presented your claims in a manner most shocking because you left out vital context.”
She cocked her head, forcing her mouth into a cordial smile that could disarm a Primarch with its splendour. Perhaps now he would share what troubled him?
“Impressive, Isha,” he snorted without relaxing his posture.
“Is it, though? You are haunted by something… some memory… right?”
Encouraged when he didn’t immediately object, she swam to the steps. Ascending as gracefully as the water allowed her, she waded towards him until only her legs were submerged. “Come, love, bathe with me, and unburden your soul.”
She held out a hand in invitation. Oily droplets had gathered on her collarbone. Now, they ran down her exposed chest, some following the lines of the lighting scars, others pooling in the valley between her breasts. A cold draught awoke goosebumps on her skin. He licked his lips, tracing the rivulets to the end of their journey in the delta between her legs. Swallowing a cough, a hand fell to the clasp on his belt, another nestled with the closure of his cape. Within seconds, the sword and pauldrons hit the floor. Fingers ripped at the row of buttons running along the length of his uniform jacket. One couldn’t withstand the force and somersaulted from his chest onto the carpet. The jacket joined soon after.
“You always see right through me, Isha,” he remarked, slipping out of his boots. “It’s an extraordinary talent. I should be concerned about what other secrets you will draw from me, but,” nestling at his collar, he looked up, “I no longer care.”
“I… I don’t want you tormenting yourself.” Another icy breeze, inviting goosebumps and shivers into a spirited dance, grazed her skin. “Biomancy, Heinrix?”
“Forgive me, my love, you can’t expect me to gape at you rising from the waters like a goddess born of seafoam,” he traced the outline of her body in the air before rushing to unbutton his linen shirt, “and not respond to it. I do not want my visible reaction to distract from the truth.” Roses bloomed on his cheeks. “You know I once belonged to a Knight House. My sisters bothered me for months about the coat of arms that adorned the hulls of our mighty war machines.”
The shirt slipped his shoulders, and he bunched it into a ball, surveying her lowering herself back into the water like a famished man beholding an opulent feast he wasn’t invited to partake in. The warmth greeted her like a long-lost friend, and the goosebumps vanished in the comfort of the bath. Humming a soothing melody, she waited for him to join her.
“‘Please, Heinrix, it’s so pretty, why can’t we have our own?’” he spoke sing-song. “‘Please, brother, we won’t tell anyone.’ Finally, I relented. I must have been ten or a bit younger; at least my final disgrace was still some time away.” He fidgeted with the clasp of his trousers. “One night, I stole a cutter and used it to remove a coat of arms from my uncle’s Knight.”
Freed from the last of his clothes, he hastened into the pool and dove under. The waves splashed at her face, and she swallowed a mouthful of water. Spluttering, she wiped her mouth as he resurfaced and pulled her into his arms. Oil-slick skin against oil-slick skin, his hands, strong as a sailor’s, held her so close she felt his heart thudding against her sternum. What was left of her anger melted away, replaced by the comfort of his embrace. She had been so stupid! Heinrix was her home. His arms slung around her was where she belonged.
“What happened next?” she whispered, and he trembled under the faint grazes of her mouth against his earlobe.
“My sisters were overjoyed, but their joy didn’t last long.” He huffed against her cheek, coarse lips leaving a wet trail behind. “There was a scandal the next morning. Someone had defaced a sacred machine inside our residence! Soon, the banner was found crumpled behind a desk in my sister’s room. Under tears, they confessed their involvement, and my foul deed was discovered.”
Brushing damp curls out of her forehead, he locked his gaze with her, full of a desperate longing ready to become an all-consuming fire once she threaded her fingers into the hairs on his nape. Callused hands roamed along her back, clutching at her waist and neck as if he’d drown without her.
“And you were punished for your deed?” she asked softly, her nose buried in the crook of his neck where acrid notes spoiled his familiar scent. Had his memories invoked the smell of bitter herbs?
“If only… No, my uncle – kind as always – named me a traitor to the family name and demanded my execution. Well, his wish would be granted slightly differently once my curse was discovered and I disinherited,” he spat out the last words. “Of course, my mother intervened after my sisters threatened to fling themselves from the highest tower of our ancestral home, and I was merely reprimanded. Not even punished…”
He relinquished her and a shaky breath. She caressed his cheek, and he hid his face in her palm, his shoulders hunched to his ears.
“Your sisters seem quite the spirited characters,” she chuckled. “Beatrix was the one closest to you in age, right?”
His expression softened for the first time tonight as he peered at her. “Oh, that’s only half of it… the trouble they caused…. I guess they would have liked you a lot,” he interlaced their fingers and placed a kiss on each knuckle, “you share a temperament, come to think of it — the same free spirit. However, Alix, my youngest sister, was the mastermind behind most of my childhood shenanigans. She had a knack for avoiding trouble. My father must have been besotted with her. Not that I would have known as a boy,” his thumb brushed over her trembling lip, “but considering that I was forgiven for a clear desecration of a sacred machine after my sisters threw what amounted to a gigantic tantrum, something my father would not have tolerated in anyone else, least of all myself, he must have loved her.” He huffed. “At least one child out of three found his favour.”
“So, you caused a scandal and were not punished as you assumed you deserved to be punished. Where does the death of innocent people fit into all of this? Your sisters did not, in fact, fling themselves from their tower, did they?”
“No, the men guarding the Knight were executed instead.” His voice faltered as his face flushed red. “And I am responsible for their death.”
“Heinrix, you were no more responsible than your sisters. Whoever ordered the execution – your father or your uncle – condemned these men to death.” She curved herself against his shivering body. “Love, the people in command, your parents, could have easily found other punishments: remove the guards from their posts, dock their pay, let you scrub the floors of the Knight’s sanctum for the next month, send your sisters to bed without dinner or a hundred other penalties. Their course of action was not set in stone.”
“No, Isha, I caused their death…” Clutching her to his chest, he buried his nose in her hair. The force of his embrace threatened to consume her whole, and she relinquished herself into his care, knowing these hands would keep her safe. Always. “It’s as if I am cursed to bring nothing but misery and pain to those in my company.”
“That’s not true, Heinrix.” She slung her arms around his neck. “You are my delight.”
“And the cause of all your pain.”
“No, love.”
She kissed his temple, where his pulse hammered against her lips. For his love, she’d endure all the pain in the world. A frightening truth but the truth nonetheless. He would not let her come to harm again.
“Did you murder Hann Cassini?”
“Yes, I ended his life.” He released his hold on her, locking eyes with her instead, a deep line splitting his forehead in half. “Why are you asking?”
“Would you have acted the same if I had wanted him to come aboard the Mercy of the Stars?”
“Against your explicit wishes?” He traced a line from her shoulder to her collarbone up to her jaw. “Hm, I would have advised you to reconsider, but no, I would have obeyed your command. I might have had him closely observed once aboard and given you another recommendation should his behaviour have been causing concern.” He lifted her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “But he’s dead, and this is all sophistry and doesn’t pertain to my question.”
“To the contrary, I murdered Hann Cassini; you were simply the tool I used. His death is on my conscience.” She tugged at her earlobe, but his pleading screams, assuring her of his innocence, wouldn’t quieten down. “You are no more guilty of murdering these guards all those decades ago than you are of murdering the navigator. I ordered the death of a potentially innocent man; just because his blood does not stain my hands doesn’t absolve me from the deed, just as it didn’t absolve your father or your uncle.”
His shaky breath brushed cold against her neck. “Yet again, your words cut through my desperation. Still, I fear the more I share of my pain, the more it will sour your love until one day,” his voice wavered, “one day, you grow sick of all the grief I have caused you, all the troubles I burden you with… and banish me from your side, and I am all alone again.” The vein on his neck throbbed agitatedly. “Isha, don’t let me wait without an explanation for days before you call me back to your side again. Please, my love! I was going mad from worry. What have I done to displease you?”
She curled a damp strand around her finger. “You are not banished, Heinrix. Never! I… I… On the ship, when you questioned the navigator… I… It sparked a memory… a reaction if you like.” Biting her lip, she hid her face in her palm. Remembering the night after her Magnae Accessio still hurt all over her body. Yet her anger was no longer focused on Heinrix, who held her so tenderly, but on his master. A searing flash ripped through her, scorching her voice. She coughed against the tightness in her chest. “It unsettled me, and I… you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sorry I should have told you sooner.”
“No, I’m sorry.” He clutched her with a force that pushed the air out of her lungs. “I didn’t… It didn’t cross my mind. Please share what troubles you with me! Don’t keep me from your company without a word. The things my mind conjured up, Isha, and here you were, tormenting yourself.”
Clasping her neck, he kissed her with a desperation that left her breathless. Nipping at her lower lip and fluttering kisses along her jaw, he rejoined with her mouth as if to reaffirm that she still desired him. Her fingers roamed his back, traced over the hills and valleys of his muscles, and chased after each shiver they released. Supple and warm, his skin was like wax under her touch as her body became clay for his deft hands to mould and form to his liking. Legs slung around his waist, she nestled her head into the curve of his neck.
“Isha, let me be your rock; build your foundations on me. I’ll carry all your burdens.” He grazed his nose against her ear. “And I’ll do it gladly. Please, confide in me, especially when I have done something that caused you grief.” The brushes birthed shy kisses along her neck. “I am true to my promise. I want to be a better person. For you, my love.”
“You already are. Now, let me find rest in your arms–”
“Always, my love,” he chased her pulse along her wrist, where thick scars had once marred her skin, “still, I fear… once you know my deepest secrets, you will turn away from me.”
Cupping his face between both hands, she held his gaze. “Heinrix, you stole my breath, stopped my heart from beating twice, and brought me back to life, and I am still with you. I love you.” She brushed his lips. “Do you believe whatever secret you hide could be worse than that? Truly?”
He dipped forward, and his embrace engulfed her like a swell. As though the last days had starved him of her love, he devoured her mouth, expelling displeased gasps whenever they broke their kiss, only to dive into her supple lips again like it was his lone sustenance. His voracious caress stoked a ravenous fire in her lap, sweltering and pulsating with desirous eagerness. Never rough but filled with a desperate desire, he kissed her over and over, and she returned the affection equally keenly, relishing in every moment like it might be their last.
“My love, your kindness knows no boundaries. I am blessed to have found you.” He traced the ridge of muscles running from her nape to her shoulders. “May I? Your back is as hard as rockcrete.”
“Always.”
When he dug his fingers into the tender flesh, she tensed. A memory streaked across the horizon of her mind, and her throat closed. Like a shooting star, the thought disappeared as fast as it had appeared under his practised hands, kneading her back, pausing ever so often to weave supple kisses into his massage. With her posture softening, she leaned back into his caress, and the ropy knots along her spine disentangled under his skilful care.
His upper body glistened with an oily sheen in the low light, and droplets had caught in the hair on his chest. Her fingers skated over his chest, and once she travelled further to his stomach, he expelled a sound like a purr. Underwater, she traced lazy circles over his skin, and each produced another pleased moan. Turning her around, his mouth searched hers again, and their kisses, tender and gentle at first, grew more passionate. Each feasted on the other. Each reassured the other of their love. The longer their exploration lasted, the more his arousal swelled, poking expectantly at her thigh, and she was overcome by the pulsating need in her lap to be joined with him.
“Do you want to inaugurate the bed?” Fingernails stroked up his flanks, eliciting delighted mewls from him. “Or do you want to stay in the pool?”
“Honestly, my love, I simply want to hold you. Nothing more.” He took her hand and placed it on his cheek. “Rest in my arms. Will you do that?”
She nestled deeper into his caress, and the warm water spread its comforting blanket over them. With her head on his chest, she listened to his heartbeat, nothing but the rush of the waterfall for company. How long they floated like this, content in the embrace of the other, watching the starry sky painted on the ceiling by the candles, she couldn’t say. All sense of time had left her. She had been so stupid not to confide in him, prolonging their needless suffering.
“Again, you have given me much to consider, Isha,” he started against her neck, and his breath awoke the goosebumps on her skin. “Words can’t express how much I love you. I have longed my whole life for a care as gentle as yours.” He lifted her in his arms. “Let me cherish you through the night.”
“Don’t tell me how much you love me, Heinrix.” Her fingers threaded in his hair; she nipped at his lower lip. " Love me. All through the night.”