Free Branches of Time, The by Luca Rossi Page B

can be sure that Ilis isn't going to get very far with his studies.”
    Though Miril understood the logic behind Tuirl's plan, she knew he was prone to making major errors of judgment.
    “So you went ahead and set all of that up without asking for my approval?”
    Her menacing tone of voice washed away the tiny bits of confidence Tuirl had managed to recover. “Priestess, please, forgive me. I was afraid that King Beanor would act upon his own initiative. You know better than I do that the monarch is so proud that he'd never back out of a decision made by his own volition. I had to improvise.”
    “Tuirl, you are a follower of the Goddess. I am her manifestation in this world. She will not grant you permission to make any more mistakes, for any reason whatsoever. If your lack of obedience creates any further problems, you'll pay with your life.” But not now, because you're the only spy I have.
    “I understand, priestess. I know I shouldn't have done what I did and I humbly ask you to forgive me. The weight of my responsibilities keeps me awake at night. Your people have lost their lives. But tell me, please, to alleviate my grief and guilt, even just a little – were any of them spared? Did anyone survive on the island along with you? I can't bear to think you've been condemned to solitude.”
    “Don't you worry about me. And it's none of your business whether or not any people of the island have survived. The only thing you need to worry about from now on is coming here at least once a week and telling me everything that happens inside of that palace. I want to know about every move Obolil makes. Now go.”
    “Priestess, I humbly ask for your forgiveness.”
    “The Goddess does not pardon incompetence.”
    Miril lifted her hands out of the black liquid. In the secret room, hidden within the foundation of the royal palace, her figure vanished. The fog turned grey and became denser in front of Tuirl's eyes, now full of relief.

22
    King Beanor sat at the table. His sole reason for dining was to enjoy the show he had arranged for himself.
    A few days earlier, walking around the perimeter of the palace, he had noticed the gorgeous shape of a young maiden moving through the hovels down below. Immediately infatuated, he had sent the royal guards to go fetch her.
    Upon his orders, the maiden was entrusted to his other wives, so she could be properly trained. A few hours later, however, Beanor had decided he could no longer wait, ignoring Aleia's protests, who tried to convince him that the girl was not ready.
    Watching her, the king decided that she did indeed need more preparation before she could truly be called a dancer. Yet this was a minor detail the king was happy to overlook for the time being.
    With a wave of his hand, still clinging onto a chicken leg, he motioned for the musicians to stop.
    “Come here!” he ordered the young woman, as he continued chewing with gusto.
    Cautious and a bit intimidated, the girl obeyed. When she was close to the monarch, he calmly placed a hand on her hip and roughly spun her around.
    “Hmm...” he lowed. “Put your hands on the table and bend over!” He carefully scrutinized her rear end, prodding it methodically.
    “Interesting. Young, firm, perfect in every aspect.” Beanor was thoroughly enchanted by the perfect rotundity of her gluteals. He caressed them and pawed at them for several moments, then slipped his hand between her thighs, moving until he could feel her sex.
    “They promised me you were a virgin. Stay that way and one of these nights we'll have a little fun, just you and me.”
    He explored her vulva with a finger. “Just look how tight you are! Not bad...not bad at all!” He brought his finger to his nose. “What a lovely smell...Guards!” he shouted.
    The young woman tried to stand back up but, with a hand on her back, he forced her to remain bent over. “Call the advisor over here.”
    One guard left the room and came back a few moments later with