Just what does the enchanting, indolent and sociopath-in-training Brigid, the daughter of mad Fiona of Emerald, do when she’s at Castle Emerald? Be alternately indolent and industrious, enchanting and introspective, and most certainly unconcerned with any thoughts except her own pleasure and her own interests, Its more than just her nature, its her way of surviving her mother’s mad Court and her mother’s mad plans for her.
5:30 AM
Brigid drew back the silken sheets of her bed. The sunlight brightened her room through the Eastern windows, and she rose to greet the sun.
She slipped on a loose silk gi that hung on a stand next to the bed, reveling in the sensual sensation of the cool slippery softness of the fabric rippling across her naked body. The gi was a gift from an admirer, made of deep emerald green silk with intricate knotwork designs in bright gold thread along the front and sides.
Stepping to an open area of her bedroom, she began a series of warm-up exercises, limbering and stretching her tall, supple body.
After thirty minutes, she began the next phase of her morning exercise. She swept her arms together before her, crossing them at the wrist. Standing perfectly straight and still, balancing perfectly on the balls of her feet; eyes closed, mind at rest, breathing slowly and deeply, she held the pose for several seconds.
Brigid believed that to perfect the discipline of the mind, it was necessary to perfect the discipline of the body. She had so mastered the application of several diverse mental and physical disciplines that she could and did astonish the incredulous (and exclusively male) yogis who had thought that a mere female was incapable of mastering such disciplines. Many of the disciplines she learned involved such unpleasant aspects as personal denial and even physical pain, but she found the gentle aspects of the “soft” martial arts to be far more in tune with her personality, and far more pleasurable than the other disciplines she had learned.
When she had reached the stillness of her center, she began the next segment of her exercises. She began with the form of Flower Opening to the Sun, her body slowly moving through the forms with a fluid grace, never hesitating between one form and the next, always in motion, yet projecting a stillness that transcended the motion. For over thirty minutes she moved gracefully, transforming the martial arts forms into dance, transforming the dance into art. She turned and swayed, struck and blocked, attacked and defended, moving to a music that only she could hear. At last, she finished with the form of Water Flowing into the Cup, returning to the position that she had started in.
6:30 AM
Brigid’s maidservant Sofia entered just as Brigid finished the last of her exercises. Sofia was pushing a cart carrying a breakfast tray, and she went directly to the small breakfast table in the corner of the room. Sofia transferred the tray to the table before Brigid, and then poured and served her a cup of strong, sweet jasmine tea
As Brigid drank her tea and breakfasted on eggs, bacon, toast and jam, miso, and a selection of fresh fruit, Sofia went into the bathroom and drew Brigid’s bath. As the bath filled, steam floated from the water and wound its way through the other rooms. Sofia has poured a mixture of rare oils into the water: the scent of jasmine and sandalwood and other exotic and mysterious fragrances filled the air.
Brigid’s fast now broken, she entered the bathroom, slipped off her gi, and stepped into the capacious sunken bath. She sighed at the sensuous feel of the warm water trickling across her skin, at the seductive scents she loved to surround herself with.
Brigid reached out her hand, took the sponge and soap offered silently by Sofia, and began washing herself. When she had finished, Brigid stretched herself out against one side of the bath, letting the hot water soothe her tired muscles. As she relaxed, Sofia began to wash Brigid’s long coppery red hair.
Sofia said nothing. When she had first started serving Brigid, she would speak on occasion, but she was fearful and nervous. Her hands shook at times, remembering the stories of how the Family treated servants who displeased them and imagining how Fiona’s daughter would treat her if she displeased her. But when her hands shook as she was brushing Brigid’s hair, she tugged painfully at a knot. Annoyed, Brigid turned and stared directly into Sofia’s eyes.
Now, Sofia had no fear when serving Brigid, and no imagination. Something behind her eyes had fallen asleep, leaving them empty. It was an action that Brigid regretted in part because she performed it in an undisciplined fit of piqué, but more in part because she did it so quickly. There was no chance to savor the feeling of Sofia’s will surrendering to Brigid’s powerful gaze. It was an action that Brigid had attempted to avoid in the future, with a large degree of success.
Sofia dried Brigid’s hair with a towel, briskly rubbing it, then proceeded to brush her hair until it shone like the copper metal it was often compared to. Then she wrapped the towel around Brigid’s hair. Brigid spent several more minutes relaxing in the warm, scented waters, then held out her hand.
Sofia handed Brigid a large woolen towel, and Brigid stood, drying herself as she stepped out of the bath. Brigid then wrapped the fluffy white towel around herself and stepped back into the bedroom. Sofia had already picked out Brigid’s garments for the day; a simple task, as Brigid’s wardrobe changed little from day to day.
Brigid pulled a short shift of white silk over her head and smoothed it down past her thighs. Then she slipped into an emerald green Mandarin cheongsam and buttoned the ornate gold buttons along the side of the front up to the high collar at her neck. It was snug across her high breasts and across her slender waist and slit high along her legs to both sides, providing a free range of movement. It displayed a Chinese dragon that wound its golden way from its tail curled in the center of her back to its head with its great grinning jaws across her breasts.
Sofia knelt and produced a pair of simple black slippers, and Brigid stepped into them.
Finally, Sofia held out Brigid’s long dark green robe, and Brigid pulled it over her shoulders and knotted the sash about her waist.
Brigid then sat at her dressing table and set her diadem on her head, then Sofia arranged her hair in an elegant, upswept style, knotted at the back of the neck and pinned it into place with a gold-inlaid ebony comb. The selection of the arrangement was one of the few original ideas that Brigid allowed to Sofia in regards to her morning routine, and Sofia had not disappointed her. Brigid admired the arrangement in the mirror and nodded her approval.
Sofia patiently awaited Brigid’s next orders, but instead, Brigid said “That will be all,” dismissing Sofia. Her work done, Sofia collected the breakfast tray and left as silently as she arrived.
Brigid continued to regard her reflection. Her thin coral lips, high cheekbones and flawless mother-of-pearl complexion that so mirrored Fiona’s own beauty were part of her mother’s genetic gifts, and they needed little enhancement, only a slight highlighting of the cheekbones to give them the appearance of additional depth.
But she paid special attention to her eyes. Her startling emerald green eyes were part of her father’s genetic gifts, and they demanded special attention in order to subtly draw further attention to them. The eyes were the windows to the soul, so said the common wisdom, and for Brigid, the eyes also were the key and the door to the mind behind them. It gave her special pleasure when her subjects looked into her eyes as she entranced them; it gave her even greater pleasure when her subjects were unwittingly seduced into looking into her eyes because of their jewel-like brilliant beauty in the first place. But her greatest pleasure was watching the light of her subject’s intellect dimming within their eyes as she covertly or overtly took control.
After that, she picked through the casket of jewelry on the dressing table, finally selecting a simple pair of earrings in gold and rubies and a large, flawless emerald pendant in a long golden chain. The earrings were slipped into the piercings on her ears, and she slipped the pendant over her head and settled it against her robes.
8:00 AM
This being the first day of the week, Brigid was in the fourth-floor sanctum of her apartments, examining the spells that are stored within her rings and diadem.
After resetting the wards around the walls, she removed her rings from her fingers and set them down carefully on the workbench, lining them up across the slate surface in the order she wears them. To the collection she added her golden diadem, carefully setting it apart from the rings on a small shelf above the table.
Taking up each ring in turn, fixed her gaze upon the face of the gemstone setting, then unfocussed her gaze to examine the spells contained within the setting. Through her mage sight, she carefully, critically examined the spell forms. She noted that the spell within the onyx ring was showing signs of deterioration, but it still within tolerable limits. Normally, she would refresh the spell at this time, but she had more important plans this morning.
She paid special attention to the four rings holding the elemental spells. They were the hardest to cast and use, and the most prone to decay. Since she had used and later refreshed the elemental spells only a few days previously, she was not surprised to note that they were still intact.
Brigid deliberately picked up the emerald ring last. Instead of examining the spell within, she slipped it back on her finger and casually waved her hand towards the far wall, and a bright green spiral of light appeared in the air between herself and the wall. She smiled at the sight of the spiral hanging in the air, swirling and sparkling in an eye-catching, mesmerizing, pattern, then she dismissed the spell with a brief gesture.
She glanced towards a parchment page on the workbench on which she had written a complex spell form, using the stylized glyphs of her personal system of enchantment. Several lines were annotated in red, marking changes and improvements in the formation of the spell. If they were correct, the spell would take longer to set up but be easier to cast as well be less prone to decay over time.
After considerable research and careful consideration, Brigid planned to experiment with these changes over the next few weeks. She was particularly proud of her emerald mesmerizing spell, but also cautious about it: she remembered miscasting it once after it had decayed, and the effect had placed her and everyone around her in a deeply entranced state for a short period; fortunately, that meant that there had been no one around to see it or remember it, or to take advantage of the situation. She learned that lesson very well.
She turned to a fresh page in her notebook and noted the date and changes she was using before continuing. Then she stepped into the ritual circle, where the lines of power focused in the center, and drew upon that power. She held the emerald ring in her left hand as she gathered the power to begin the spell. As she began to recite the words of the spell in a flowing, musical chant, her right hand began to move slowly, circling counterclockwise above the surface of the emerald setting. A spiraling trail of emerald light began to follow her finger, growing stronger and brighter with each second, swirling into the depths of the gemstone. When she had finished chanting, she curled her finger in an intricate form at the end of the spiral, sealing the spell within the stone until she called for it. The emerald flashed green for an instant, then the light faded.
As she returned the ring to its position on the workbench, she considered where she would experiment with the new spell: the contents of the dungeons underneath the castle were often useful, but one of the improvements was an increase in the range and breadth of the spell, which would not be easily tested in the close confines of the dungeon cells. The darker areas of the city below the castle was always a possibility, but they were both leery of and more dangerous to the younger members of the Family, even Fiona’s daughter. Still, she was confident that she would think of something.
Finally, she held up her golden diadem. Last night she had heard that Quince’s flagship would arrive in port today, so she was expecting to see him soon, and she had something special in mind for him. A very special spell, created for him alone.
Because of his bestial parentage, he was less susceptible to spells that would control men, but was at the same time also susceptible to spells that could control beasts. Brigid had woven a spell especially for Quince, mixing spells of animal control and lust with compulsions of service and affection. Under its power, Quince would feel lust and desire for Brigid, but would also be compelled to think of her as his superior, his master, his better in the animal social order. Just as his father deferred to Fiona, so, too, would Gerard’s son defer to Fiona’s daughter. The compulsions were carefully graduated to increase in power only slightly every time the spells were used. It was a risky endeavor, but the spell that had worked well on him in the past, and worked better every time she used it on him, just as she intended.
10:00 AM
Usually at this time, Brigid was engaged in some pleasurable pursuit around or about the castle. One favorite pastime was riding through the forests, or sometimes she would go swimming in the ocean near the fabled staircase to the reflection of Emerald beneath the waves.
But today she went shopping in the town below. A number of trading vessels had arrived in port over the past few days, and she expected their wares to be on display in the various shops in the trading district. One store had sent a note up to her at the Castle the previous evening, inviting her to a private showing this morning.
Brigid was a familiar customer at several shops along Jeweler’s Lane, where she would knowledgeably converse with the master jewelers about the mundane and occult properties of various gemstones and precious metals. Several stores prominently displayed a bright blue pennant over the doorway, including the one Brigid entered, a sign that they had received a shipment of goods in the past few days.
Brigid entered the shop to the chimes of silver bells, and was immediately recognized and ushered into the back of the shop by the owner himself. Over tea, Brigid was shown a tray of gemstones, some still in their original form, others finely cut and polished. The owner knew better than to offer Brigid anything less than his very best: the only time he had tried, he and his apprentices had spent the remainder of the afternoon prowling about the floor of the shop, hunting for mice. It was a lesson that only needed to be repeated every generation or so.
Today, however, she only shook her head. The wares she was offered were of the finest quality, but they were still common: ice sapphires, storm opals of Raan, black pearls from the Haunted Sea of Kedzerie. Brigid had many such as these, and better, aplenty. Finally, after a stroke of inspiration, she selected a matched pair of fire diamonds, thinking that they would make an interesting pair of earrings; by their nature, fire diamonds were natural foci for certain types of enchantments, among them, ones that enhanced the wearer’s apparent beauty and charisma. The end result would make an interesting present to an unfortunately overlooked and single noble lady of the Court: the combination would make for fascinating Court watching over the next few months.
12:30 PM
Lunch for Brigid was a simple affair in her rooms. When she returned from shopping, Sofia was waiting in her sitting room beside a cart from the kitchens of Emerald. Brigid sat down at the same chair and table where she ate breakfast, Sofia silently transferred a series of plates, bowls, and glasses from the cart to the table, and Brigid began to eat.
As she ate, Brigid picked through her correspondence. Mostly they were invitations from the major and minor nobility of Emerald and the surrounding Shadows who maintained embassies in the city. A few were from researchers in near or far Shadows who shared some of her varied interests.
She reserved one large envelope for last. Within was a variety of swatches of cloth. Several days ago, Brigid had received an invitation to a formal ball later in the month. For the occasion, she had commissioned a new evening gown from the most renowned dressmaker in the city, and was in the process of selecting the fabric. She immediately discarded two of the swatches of fabric as being too gaudy and flashy for the occasion; a third swatch soon followed the two to the floor as being unflatteringly harsh for her pale mother-of-pearl complexion. She finally narrowed her selection down to two, one a pale green silk shot with metallic gold threads that complemented the color of her eyes, the other a shimmering black material of a mysteriously sorcerous synthetic origin. As much as she loved the silk, which would draw attention to her emerald, entrancing eyes, the black material was fascinating: not only was it was understandably rare and expensive, the swatch seemed to flow under fingers with a warm, slippery feel that promised an exotic and erotic wearing experience.
Sofia waited patiently until Brigid finished eating, then silently collected the dishes and returned them to the cart, and, just as silently, returned the cart to the kitchens.
1:00 PM
Brigid was in her study, writing up her research. Several months ago, a passing reference had caught her eye, a description of a legendary practice of Gypsy dancers, and she had been busily researching the subject ever since. This practice was reputed to have the power to mesmerize an audience through some form of sorcery known only to the Gypsies, and, immediately, she wanted to add it to her repertoire of enchantments.
She began the first phase of her research almost immediately, by conducting a search of existing documentation in the diverse resources of the Castle library. She also contracted further research from several confidential researchers throughout Shadow, instructing them to collect legends and stories of such and similar practices for her review. She soon discovered that there were many reputable stories of such occurrences in the reports of agents of the Crown and in the journals of other reputable travelers in the Castle library. These stories and the tales of such and similar practices collected from the folklore of hundreds of Shadows were added to her personal library, adding yet another facet to its more specialized and detailed resources. At the same time, she instructed her agents to locate and track any Gypsy clans who were reputed to have dancers trained in this practice.
Her research discovered that only certain Gypsy clans were supposed to possess this power, but it was not known which clans. Her research also said that only women were reported to have this power, and that it appeared to work in a variety of Shadows, of differing levels of sorcery and enchantment. All of these factors only served to whet her interest.
She began her field research phase just a month ago. Her agents located a number of Gypsy clans who appeared to have dancers trained in this practice, a few close by in Emerald or adjacent Shadows. After she had armed herself with as much research and defenses as possible, she traveled to several of these Gypsy encampments. There, she covertly observed several instances where the Gypsy dancers entranced all or part of the audience, excepting herself, of course. She watched the affected members of the audience grow quiet and still during the performances, and then the entranced men (and sometimes the women) would be summoned to walk, blank-eyed, into the arms and quarters of the dancers. She closely interrogated some of those dancers, who were unable to lie to her or deceive her under the spell of her entrancing eyes. She even commanded the dancers to teach her the moves of the dances through the power of her eyes and mind.
Now she was ready for the final phase of her research. Armed with the fruits of her investigations, she returned to her private library for further investigation. When she was finished, she was finally ready to collect her documentation and to document her conclusions for her library.
Her conclusion was that the legends of Gypsy sorcery were vastly exaggerated. The practice had very little to do with sorcery and very much to do with psychology. It depended mostly upon a number of known (and some not very widely known or understood) physiological and psychological principles related to trance induction, of which the most powerful was the power of suggestion. However, as far as Brigid could tell, no one had ever combined these principles in quite this manner. Since there no sorcery involved, and since it also depended on a number of other existing conditions, it was unlikely that she would ever deliberately use the practice, but still she wanted to have it available, just in case.
She carefully noted her conclusions, writing in a neat, tight script in black ink on the white parchment, then placed the parchment into the waiting binder, with the rest of her research and notes. The binder was then placed on a bookshelf, beside several others that she had produced over the years.
Finally satisfied, Brigid looked at the clock over the mantel. It was after 6:00, and formal dinner with Fiona and family was precisely at 7:00. She had just enough time to change into more formal garb before dinner.
7:00 PM
Dinner was High Formal this evening, and there were several more family members in attendance that night as well than would normally attend.
Brigid always attended dinner whenever she was at the castle, sitting close but not quite next to her mother. As each course was served, she took several small portions of everything that was served. She ate sparingly, amusing herself by watching the other family members, fortunate that there were significantly more members at dinner than usual.
As usual, Fiona sat at the head of the table, holding informal court over the Family and watching everyone with a careful eye. She nibbled at the various dishes presented and indicated her approval or disapproval of each serving by a brief nod or frown. Frowns usually brought a shudder from the servant, while smiles brought an obvious sigh of relief.
Both Gerard and his son Quince were in attendance, sitting at the far end of the long formal dining table. It was rare enough when either’s fleet was in port, rarer still both, and rarest of all when Quince appeared at dinner. Both Gerard and Quince ate heartily as usual, in between telling the usual stories of their most recent exploits.
Frowning darkly, Florimel sat in the middle of the table, dressed in black leather and bearing with her the faint but unmistakable scent of burning flesh from her favorite pastime. She ate mechanically of everything on the plates put before her, not taking part in any conversation. The only sound she made was the occasional unconscious cracking of her knuckles.
In contrast, Random, in his characteristic motley of oranges and browns, amused himself by drumming and juggling his silverware in between courses and pinching the female servants as they passed by. Since he sat far away from Fiona, he rarely incurred her displeasure at his antics. He seemed to have the best appetite and best humor of any family members present, something that might be the result of a liberal application of recreational chemicals prior to dinner.
The last family member in attendance, Brand, always attended, but he rarely participated in anything other than eating, and, more often, just drinking heavily. This night was no different: he merely picked at his food and drank far too much, until Fiona motioned over a servant and whispered to him, the message was then whispered into Brand’s ear. Brand looked morosely across the length of the table to Fiona, who merely smiled, and he turned back to his dinner, making an obvious effort to eat.
There were the usual empty places at the dinner table: Corwin, who preferred the surreal but relative safety of his realm of Tir nan Og in the sky to the twisted earthly realm of his half-sister, and Selene, his daughter, whose moods and mysteries were often as puzzling as Fiona’s sanity. Also missing were the late Julian’s son Leonardo and Brand’s daughter Angelica; both, according to Family rumor, were off pursuing their own pleasures in Shadow. It was a good sign of her mood that Fiona had not ordered places for any of the “missing” members of the Family, like Bleys or Julian, or the ones best left unmentioned, like Oberon or Dworkin. The memory of the night that Fiona carried on a series of surprisingly polite one-sided conversations with their empty chairs still gave Brigid chills.
As usual, there was little conversation within the family, mostly boasts by Gerard about the ships under his command and Qunice’s tales of villages burned, treasure stolen, men murdered and women raped. It was all the same sort of tales that they always told, with very little change to draw any attention to them. Brigid merely smiled and nodded when necessary out of politeness, noting that Fiona did largely the same, but she was also capable of politely covering a brief yawn or two, which always seemed to bring whatever tale was being told to a quick resolution.
10:00 PM
Dinner eventually came to a close. Fiona’s thoughts were obviously on some form of other amusement tonight, as there were no further public “diversions” announced for the evening. Perhaps her thoughts had something to with Uncle Brand, which would explain him looking more morose than usual during dinner. Since the rest of the Family were dismissed, Brigid was able to put her own designs into action.
Brigid had been not-quite-covertly eying Quince across the table occasionally throughout the evening. He infrequently attended dinner, as his bestial nature sometimes interfered with his table manners, but this evening he appeared much more civilized than usual, which is one of the reasons why Brigid arranged to be passing by him in the hallway leading to their rooms after dinner.
Over a head taller than her own tall frame, and over twice as wide as her slender shape, Quince is an imposing figure to anyone who does not know how to deal with him. To Brigid, his size is merely a reflection upon his mental abilities: what he gained from his physical size and presence he lost in subtlety. Still, he could be a raging force when angered or frustrated, but anger was not on his mind at this time, nor was Brigid interested in frustrating his intentions, so long as she could guide them and control them.
She eyed him provocatively, and he returned her gaze with a confident leer. “Its been weeks since you’ve been in the Castle,” she said, pouting, “I thought you had forgotten about me.” Her wounded tone confidently maintained that she considered her self quite unforgettable, and Quince’s low rumbling growl of laughter in response indicated that he had not forgotten at all. Brigid smiled in reply.
She playfully ran her fingers down his broad, naked chest. “You want me, tonight, don’t you?” she purred, looking coyishly away from him. He only growled low in his throat in reply. “I thought you did,” she continued. “Like I want you …
“I can see your desire in your eyes,” she said, looking up, directly into his eyes; “can’t you see my desire in my eyes? Look closely … ”
He leaned down, looking closer into her emerald, entrancing eyes.
“That’s right, closer, look deeper, deeper,” she thought; “deeper into my eyes.” At that silent mental command to the diadem she wore, the special spell she created for Quince alone was set in motion. A series of faint green witchlights began to glow within her eyes, swirling and spiraling and pulsing in a hypnotic pattern.
She could feel his mind immediately began to flow with patterns of the lights. His mind bespelled with thoughts of desire and domination, Quince was easily led to Brigid’s chambers, where, earlier, Sofia had lit the scented candles and turned down the bed for her.
His desire for her was physically obvious, even through his trousers. Quince watched her open the folds of her robes as he removed his trousers and boots, then swept Brigid’s naked form in his arms and laid her on the bed.
The bed creaked as he climbed on to straddle her, and he wasted no time taking his pleasure from her, and with her. Despite his great size, he was uncommonly gentle with her with his lovemaking, something that Brigid had taught him early on in their relationship. When he was momentarily satisfied, Brigid helped him roll over onto his back and then she mounted over him.
She used all of her skills and disciplines to pleasure Quince, binding his desire for her with ecstasy, binding his obedience to her with desire. It was a slow process, one that had involved many such pleasurable sessions like this in the past, and would involve many more, similar sessions in the future, but the results would be worth the effort. Not just the pleasure born of physical sensations, but the pleasure born of the feel of Quince’s fiery mind will slowly succumb to her will.
Her marital arts were far more pleasurable than her martial arts, yet her martial arts discipline served her well her, too. Water was patient; it will overcome in time all things.
