Ch. 8: Touring Figaro

By Schala


Terra stumbled out of the room, ignored the catcalls of the prisoners, and hurried up the stairs. She leaned against the wall, getting her bearings. Dear god, what *had* she been thrown into? First running from the militia of Narshe, then crawling through dank mines, and now some wacko horny king telling her the Empire wanted her for sex?! It was crazy!

She rubbed her temples. Unfortunately, she had to admit that if what Edgar said was true, that explained some things. After all, Figaro was an ally of the Empire, and if Figaro supplied the Empire with the tools they needed...Terra shuddered. It was madness even to *consider* that. But it fitted in too well with what she'd experienced...

Terra calmed herself down. Did she ever need a rest after what she just went through. She hoped there was some kind of guest room somewhere. She smirked to herself as she remembered Edgar's offer of a "tour" around the castle. Some tour *that* had turned out to be.

Figaro wasn't large as castles go, and Terra soon found what she was looking for. The castle had a small travelers' inn, staffed by two maids. Terra rolled her eyes when she saw the maids' short, skimpy dresses. *Naturally,* she she thought.

One maid approached her as she stood uncertainly by the door. Seeing Terra's haggard look, the woman nodded knowingly. Her lips curved into a faint smile. She leaned forward confidentially. "You know, *he* managed to screw the high priestess the other day," she whispered. "Surely *you've*...experienced...something of the kind?"

Terra blinked and stared at the woman. "I....How...?" She was at a loss.

The maid stood straight again. "Ah, but that's not what you're here for, is it?" she said brightly, unnaturally. "You'll be wanting a nice bed without a man, that's for sure. Take any one you want. And don't worry," she added with a wink. "We won't let any man near you while you're resting." She giggled mockingly.

Terra stared. Were *all* the inhabitants of this castle out of their minds?! She almost refused the offer of a bed after the maid's strange manner. Then she sighed. Everyone here had to know what was going on, and they had to accept it, or else they wouldn't have stayed. No one in their right mind would. Or maybe none of them *were* in their right mind!

She shrugged. She was exhausted, and she was damned if she was going to let Edgar near her again while she was so tired. Choosing a bed in the furthest corner, she curled up and slept.

Terra woke up just a few hours later. It was afternoon. She stretched slowly. She was so tired, but she just couldn't get comfortable, even though the bed had been heavenly. The maid brought a light meal, which Terra could barely touch.

After she left the inn, Terra wandered around. After all, he *did* allow me to go anywhere I wanted, she told herself.

She returned to the hall and found a corridor past the throne room. She climbed up a flight of stairs and found herself on a tower. A guard was stationed there. He smiled and nodded at her.

Terra looked out over the parapet. The castle was surrounded by the desert. Gentle breezes stirred up the sand, changing the surface of the desert ever so slowly. She sighed, seeing the faintest green in the distance of the forests south of Narshe. If she squinted her eyes, she could just barely make out thin columns of smoke. Beyond that were the jagged tips of mountains.

It was all so silent, so desolate. Terra wanted to curl up and lose herself in the desert. *All I want is to be left alone, to find myself again,* she thought. She was already tired of running, tired of trying to figure out what would come next or whom to meet.

But it was only through these people that she would find out who she was. There was a lot they weren't telling her, she knew. Terra hated being so dependent on these people she barely knew, but she also knew she'd be lost without their guidance. Sighing, she turned and went down the stairs again.

The guards were back in place, she was glad to see as she continued her self-tour. She walked through a hallway that branched off to the right and entered a library. A couple of scholars occupied it. One was cataloguing the books, while the other sat at a table and made notes from the text he was reading. Terra wandered around.

She passed the table where the scholar was sitting. He leaned back, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. "Darn Empire," she heard him mutter. "Making all the scholars research Espers and magic. What's it to them, anyway?"

The woman glanced at him, startled. Something flashed through her memory...then was gone. She shook her head. There was something about Espers...had someone mentioned it before? It seemed so familiar. Maybe it would come back later.

Terra left the library with a thoughtful look on her face.

A hallway on the left of the castle led down a couple of flights of stairs and ended in a door. Outside the door, Terra saw the sands of Figaro desert. Guards patrolled the area. Some were riding about on large, birdlike chocobos, hardy animals that were better suited to the desert climate. Even in other places were chocobos used more often than horses or any other type of mount.

A tower stood a little way away. Terra entered the door and climbed the short flight of stairs....then stopped in slight alarm. It was obvious she had stumbled upon the king's private bedroom. A beautiful thick woven carpet covered the floor, upon which stood a small table and two chairs. A large desk was in the far corner, a fireplace across from it. And in the opposite corner towered a four-poster bed on a dais.

A woman sat on a chair near the bed, her head bent down toward her sewing. Terra's first instinct was to turn and leave, but something held her back. Instead, she walked up to the woman. As she came nearer, the other woman glanced up. Terra guessed her to be middle-aged.

Terra smiled as she approached her. "I'm sorry for intruding," she apologized, "I hope I'm not trespassing...?"

The older woman smiled. "No, you're not trespassing. Almost all parts of this castle are open...to young women, that is." She directed a piercing glance at Terra, and she felt uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Is this the king's room?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. My name is Eliza, by the way. The matron of the castle." She drew herself up and smiled. "I take care of the children here."

"Children? I didn't see any..."

"Oh, they're all at lessons at this time of day. The schoolmistress probably took them on a field trip somewhere. They go on field trips an awful lot."

*Probably to take them away from all the perversion in the castle,* Terra thought. Meanwhile, Eliza was continuing.

"Yes, a nice bunch of kids they are. Then again, I always say that. I do love children. Although they can get rowdy." Her voice dropped, and she was talking to herself more than to her visitor. "Too bad they're growing up...soon they'll be off on their own. Oh, how I do wish that Edgar would marry and have children. He needs an heir...and we do need young blood in the castle...It's so long...so long since Edgar and his brother were children..."

"Brother?" asked Terra gently. She was surprised, though. She never knew Edgar had a brother. *I wonder if he's as perverted as Edgar is?* she thought.

Eliza looked up at her with distant eyes. "Yes, Edgar has a twin brother. His name is Sabin. He was such a sweet boy...They both were...until..." The older woman's voice faded. A blush crept over her cheeks as she recalled that fateful day...

Eliza was worried. Edgar had been so preoccupied the last few days, and she knew it was because of the king, his father. The doctors didn't hold much hope. No more than a month left, they had said. Edgar, the elder twin, had taken over running Figaro.

But more than that, Edgar had been worried about his brother. Although older by just a few minutes, Edgar had always treated Sabin like a child. He was doing so even now, shielding him from the true severity of their father's illness. The matron disapproved of such a course, but the prince had stubbornly refused to take his brother into confidence.

"Mentally, he's just a child," Edgar had argued. "Who knows what the shock will do to him?"

"Which is why it's even more important to let him know! Let him grow up, Edgar. You can't shield him forever. He has to fight his own battles," the matron had said.

But he hadn't. And now Edgar was sitting in the library, alone with his thoughts. The matron had been standing at the door, undecided as whether to comfort him, or let him be.

The decision was taken out of her hands when Sabin whirled by her, pushed open the door to the library, and entered, carelessly leaving the door open. Eliza had seen the look on the twin's face, and fearing a confrontation, stood by the open door, listening.

"What's all this about Father?" she heard Sabin demanding. "What's all this talk about his successor?"

There was silence. Suddenly, Edgar's voice burst out, angry and filled with emotion. "Fool!" he blasted. "Don't you see how thin he's become? Haven't you realized how ill he is? Do you really need me to tell you *everything*?" A dull thud, as though a chair fell over. Then the rapid sound of footsteps.

"Brother...wait!" Sabin cried.

Eliza entered the room quietly. Sabin was standing alone, a bewildered look on his face. "Let him go, Sabin," she said softly. "Leave him alone...He has a lot on his mind."

The young man nodded slowly. "I wish...I had known about this earlier..."

She took him in her arms. He hugged her miserably. "I tried to convince him to tell you, but he refused. He...was going to shoulder the burden all himself..."

"Why couldn't he trust me?" Sabin wailed plaintively. "He always hides things like this from me. He treats me like a baby! I'm his brother. The kingdom...the kingdom needs us!"

Sabin wept as Eliza comforted him, softly stroking his hair. He buried his face into her clothing. After a few minutes, the tears slowed, and he suddenly realized where he was. He felt the matron's softness, smelled her subtly inviting scent. This woman who'd cared for them since birth, in whose arms he had always found solace. He remembered all the time he'd spent with her while his brother and parents were off at some official function. He remembered curling up beside her on a rainy day while she read him stories.

He suddenly realized that he hadn't much experience with women. While Edgar had always chased after the females, women and relationships just hadn't appealed to Sabin, for some reason. He'd often wondered what his twin found so fun in chasing after girls. He supposed the right woman just hadn't come along...

Until now.

He glanced at her, a new look in his eyes. He sensed a kindred spirit, a hidden familiarity that was difficult to fathom. Sabin saw she wasn't such an old woman, not the old hag he'd always made her out to be as a boy. Time had been kind to her; although running on the plump side, she was still energetic, the lines carved not too deeply on her face, and if he looked hard enough, he could still see a spark of desire behind the compassion in her eyes...

Sabin leaned down and kissed her. Caught by surprise, the matron stood rooted for a few moments. Then she pushed him away roughly, garnering all her strength for such a feat against the man's strong build. It succeeded only in making Sabin draw her in tighter.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed in shock. "Stop this at once!"

He ignored her, sliding his hand in her bodice and pushing her dress off her shoulders. Eliza's breasts bobbed slightly as they were pulled free of the fabric. Sabin leaned down and nipped her neck, then gathered her breasts in his hands as he sucked on her nipples, thinking vaguely of when he was just a babe, suckling at those very same breasts, for she had been the twins' wet nurse as well.

The prince pushed her back and laid her on one of the library desks. Eliza saw a somewhat subdued fire in his eyes that puzzled her a bit, having known differently from prior experience with men. Maybe he wasn't as horny as she thought.

Still, she was frightened. "Sabin...what are you doing? Please, don't do this....Please stop!" she cried out, trying to close her legs that he had spread wide in an instant. Eliza sat up, but immediately he pushed her down again and laid his head on her chest.

"Matron..." he whispered. "I never noticed how beautiful you are...You remind me -- somewhat -- of myself...and of my brother..." The woman sucked in her breath when he said the words and struggled against him. Sabin caught her wrists and held her firmly. "Please don't fight...I can feel something deep inside you that you haven't yet released, and I want to be the one to finally touch that hidden part..."

Eliza gulped. "Sabin, you don't know what you're doing! Please, stop this insanity...I'm an old woman, you'll just end up hurting both of us!"

He laughed softly and gazed into her eyes. "You're far from old, Matron!" He kissed her just as a tear trickled down her cheek. "And I won't hurt you..."

Sabin's hand made its way beneath her dress, caressing every inch of her. His fingers teased her soft womanhood while he suckled her breasts. Then he dove under her skirts and licked her wet pussy so fervently that she sat up with a gasp. He forced her onto the desk again.

Strong lips crushed hers. Eliza tried to twist away, but could not escape the desire beginning to course through her body. His firm, young body pressed warmly atop her. Almost unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back...

A hand fumbled at her crotch, and Eliza felt a hard bulge press into her thigh. He rubbed his manhood up her leg, then plunged it inside her. She cried out, feeling that thick cock stretching her. With a wild movement, she tried to buck him off, but he was unyielding. His mouth still claimed hers, his hands ravished her breasts.

Sabin thrust deep, in and out, her pussy loosening to him. Eliza was crying now, crying from fear and the knowledge that this was utterly wrong of her....of both of them. Sabin may be repressed, but she knew she wasn't the one to bring out his sexuality.

With each thrust he brought more of the woman out of her. Eliza was losing control of herself...like she had lost control so many years ago...

His heartfelt moans pierced her consciousness. Oh, god...he was enjoying this, and there would be no stopping him. The constant terror in the back of her mind had kept the thin thread of control that she still retained from snapping, even as her body surrendered. But Eliza was tired, the heat from the prince's loins engulfing her, persuading her to let go.

Sabin felt the warm slickness swirling deliciously around his cock and spreading through his entire body. He felt her muscles contract and he smiled. Yes, he could feel it...the passion that he knew still burned deep within the woman....a passion strong and sincere...and all for him.

He closed her legs around him and rubbed her thighs as he thrust in. But he was at the boiling point. Sabin arched backwards, his face flung up, and yelled as he found his release, his hot fluid spurting deep within her.

It was too much for Eliza. His cum filled her eagerly, a taunting flow that nipped at what remained of her self-control. Finally, with a defeated cry, she snapped that last thread and let herself come. His cock was bathed in her juices, and Sabin felt that sweet flood wash over him, giving him a satisfaction, a wholeness that he'd never felt before.

He fell atop her, his cheek resting against her heaving breasts. This intimacy affected him differently. He just felt it was so *right*, despite their disparateness. He sensed that she understood him, that their souls were somehow connected...

"I love you, Miss Eliza," came Sabin's throaty voice.

The matron choked back a cry. "Sabin...you don't know what you're saying...It's just...just the moment. You won't feel the same tomorrow...You have no idea just what exactly you've done!" She faltered on those last words.

He loomed over her and looked straight into her eyes. "I *do* know what I'm saying. And I know you're the only woman for me. I don't care if you're twice as old as I am! Age doesn't matter if it's really love, right? Shouldn't it?" His voice changed into a pleading whisper.

Eliza's face took on such an expression of sadness that Sabin felt his heart lurch. Maybe she didn't love him...maybe she could *never* love him. And of course, their lives were so very different. He was a royal prince, she a spinster matron. But even if this one time was all they would ever share, then he would willingly take that over nothing at all.

She shook her head. Her mind whirled with utter dismay as her heart argued with her reason. *Tell him!* her conscience urged.

*No...it would only hurt him more!* her heart disagreed.

Finally, through a rain of tears, she made her decision.

"You...don't know everything," she whispered. "I...have a secret...a secret that I've never told anyone. But if you say you love me...if you *truly* love me...then...I must tell you this secret."

And, leaning closer, Sabin learned the matron's secret, wrenched painfully from the darkness of her heart, a smoldering ember from a fire that had nearly destroyed her soul...

And blazed again to scald his own.

Sabin's head shot up. He stared at the matron, still lying there topless, her breasts heaving with her deep breaths. His face, first incredulous, slowly twisted into a look of such horror and disbelief that Eliza winced.

Then the expression darkened. The storm clouds settled on the prince's brow and made his face so thunderous that she gasped in sheer terror.

He grabbed her, sat her up, and shook her ferociously. "You never told me...You never told me!" he shouted. "You...you LET me do this...without any regard to the consequences!"

"No! No, it isn't true!" Eliza cried. "I told you...I told you at the beginning..."

He shook his head. With an anguished cry, he threw her from him. The matron quickly gathered her clothes around her. "Sabin, please, you know I tried to stop you...but you wouldn't listen!"

Sabin gave a strangled half-moan. He staggered to his feet and pulled up his pants, without bothering to buckle the belt. "You're a sick woman," he spat out, "nothing more than a common slut! And I thought I loved you..." He closed his eyes, trying to vanquish the love that he had just discovered, that had only now fully blossomed. But its roots had already sunk deep, entwining around and capturing his heart in a gilded prison. But now the gold was tarnished, and the more he struggled to free himself, the more it pained him. And that fact only riled him more. "I hate you! I hate you! I never want to see your face again!" he screamed like a vengeful child. And he stormed out, bearing the broken pieces of a soul shattered by betrayal.

Eliza slid to the floor, sobbing. She clutched her dress closer about her, her body still tingling from Sabin's touch, her womb still crying from the sin of housing the prince's cock. Yes, they'd now known each other in the most intimate way possible...though both of them sorely wished they didn't.

She slumped against the desk. God, what had she done? What had she done?....

The image faded in Eliza's mind, but her voice was still far away as she spoke again, unconscious of Terra. "Sabin was such a sweet child...but his tantrums frightened me...I thought he would kill me that day..." She turned unseeing eyes in the other woman's direction. "But I did try...he just wouldn't listen...Or maybe it all could have been avoided long ago...But we'll never know now, will we? I'll have to live with my mistake for the rest of my life..."

Terra was confused. The matron had been muttering for a long while, but the younger woman knew Eliza felt responsible for Sabin's leaving the castle. And from what Terra managed to hear, she didn't quite like that reason either.

Seeing the matron involved in her musings, Terra turned quietly and walked out of the room.



Ch. 9: Revisiting the Past

Return to the trees in the Lemon Grove

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This lemon last tasted by the Grovekeeper on May 2, 2000
All chapters © Schala 2000