Branch 2: The Fox and the Knight

---D-Day+116, Dherus 23rd, Saturday Morning---

---Jinshibo---

*splash* *splish* *drip*

Oriental beasts watch from columns.  Carved out or drawn in.  Lumber walls, stained white, display painted idyllic landscapes.  Flowery scents from soaps and shampoos, drift through the atmosphere.

The air is warm and wet.

Orange light from hanging lanterns, and the rising sun shining through aft windows, tint the red, green, and yellow colors of the furnishings and decorations.

The distant creaking of timber beams.  Near splashing of warm water.  With flute and zither played softly by servants.  Are the only sounds.  Completing the calm scene.

*scrub* *comb* *pick*

In the center of the room is a large round tub.  Only a few feet tall but very wide.  Bronze bands wrap the bath.  Holding the planks of golden hued wood tightly together.  So firmly that only occasional drips escape.  Running down to a floor covered in thin square sheets of roughened stone.

The small spaces in between the granite are filled with gravel.

Along the floor from the port wall run two bronze pipes.  One ends at a hole in the bottom of the basin.  The other turns and crawls up the side of the tank.  Until it turns again at the rim.  Stopping just as it passes over the lip of the bath.  Both pipes have plugs in them to keep water from passing through.

*scour* *brush* *rinse*

The oversized bucket with delusions of grandeur is surrounded by eight more servants.  Quietly tending to the four seated within with washcloths, brushes, and combs.  Diligently and skillfully cleaning every inch of their skin and hair.

Inside, two are so short their chins barely clear the water.  Sitting next to each other.  Though one would rather be even closer, the washers need room to work.

The slightly taller of the two is grumpy.  And not just because she can't be closer to her crush.

"It is not fair."  Curly wet auburn hair sticks to face and neck.  "W-we were finally accepted and now there are more?"  She glances at the princess beside her.  "Th-there are already so many."

Ymanie fidgets on her bum, trying to get comfortable.  She's still pretty sore.  Not yet used to the nightly ravaging.  After all, she was a virgin until four nights ago.

Across the tub, a woman tall enough that her D-cups’ cleavage is exposed, rolls hazel eyes.  Knowing the reason the young viscountess is upset has more to do with not getting a threesome with her crush last night.  Than extra rivals for the beast's attention.

The coward hasn't confessed her feelings to her childhood friend.  Despite just about everyone, except that friend, already knowing.  And despite Lady Edelys and Lady Alote proving their lord has nothing against such relationships. Even among his own women.

Somehow Ymanie Baramont still lacks the courage to admit her love to Isabeau Angelles.

So threesomes with Jon and Isabeau are an outlet for the sheltered noble girl.  A new found paradise pleasuring her heart and body in ways she couldn't imagine just a few days prior.

Unfortunately, Ymanie tried to take the lead last night.  Ending up unconscious after one round.  Never quite recovering.  And missing out on Isabeau's turns.  Plural.

'Rookie mistake.'  The veteran knight thinks to herself as she smirks.

“Mmgh…”

Massaging fingers of the servant washing her short black hair feels good.  In fact, Dame Jouveral cannot recall ever getting better service.  Even at court.  Being anything but shy, Matylda voices that opinion.

"These yanese may be arrogant asses but you gotta admit- oh yeah, right there- they certainly earned it."

Most of the washers understand tourinese, and have an equally biased opinion of the speaker, but refuse to show it.  Taking their duties seriously.  And hoping to ingratiate themselves with their guest lord.

“Ooh…”

A grateful moan from the shortest bather, as washcloths and ointments soothe aching hips.  The third, and junior, princess of Tourin gently rebukes her senior.

"Dame Matylda, please be more respectful.  If you bring our husband trouble?  I doubt anyone can save you."

The former captain of the Order of the White Rose snorts at Isabeau's reply but does not disagree.  She knows some of Jon’s women are devoted to a disturbing degree.  None more so than his dark-elf second wife, Ushinua Barton.

A dangerous look from the fourth bather, reminds the ex-knight that one of those fanatics is among them.

Matylda's survival instincts kick in.  "Ah, my apologies, sister Sayuri.  I intended no offense."  And relaxes, a little, as the fresh killing intent evaporates like it was never there.

As in many harems, some of the members prefer to think of each other as sisters.  Like that magically defuses the rivalries and disbands the factions which naturally form among competing women.

The former chevalier suffers no such delusions.  Long used to the appetites and games of powerful men.  She expects the same vain behavior from her latest lord.  Though she has never faced so many challengers before.

Number four flicks an ear and speaks.

“Please forgive me, sister Matylda.  The urge to defend my mate?  Gets the better of me, at times.”

The, in truth, demonkin fox girl feels insecure.  She has not known the alpha for months like the others.  Is still learning his scent.  Terrified that an unforgivable mistake will happen and drive her savior away.

Memories, deep and old, again stir within.  Full of hate and fear and… loneliness.  His mark keeps them at bay.  But the vile soaps wash away that magnificent odor.  Yet her stench will begin bothering the sisters if not cleansed regularly.  So it is a sacrifice that must be made.

Of course such an amazing mate understands.  So allows her snout to rub him afterwards.  Refreshing his mark.  Even sister Li helps.  Making sure the servants always leave a piece of Jon’s clothing unwashed.  Ready to be hidden under the fox's robes.

Now the huyao woman is no fool.  Knows she must figure out which sisters are friends.  And which are foes.  Every pack has those who seek to just use the alpha’s strength.  Instead of becoming part of it.

The last batch of bathers every morning is a good opportunity to learn more about them.  When the sisters and servants in the other rooms are overwhelmed with dresses and hairpins and makeup.  Very willing to let the last group wait in the tub.  Until they’ve caught up some or Jon’s ready to be washed.

Sayuri Yamabe easily sees through the two shorter girls' motivations.  To sister Isabeau, Jon is a hero.  Second wife Ushinua is very precious to Isabeau and the beast saved her.  Then saved Isabeau as well.  So the tourinese princess rightly worships even the ground he walks on.

Sister Ymanie, on the other hand, clearly worships sister Isabeau.  The demonkin has known women who desire another woman as their alpha.  And even if Sayuri thinks its stupid?  Why want a mate that can’t mate?  Doesn't mind there being one less competitor for Jon’s scent.

It is the tall busty woman who is the mystery.  The unknown.  Sister Matylda smells strong.  And must have killed many for the stink of death to linger no matter how much soap is used.  Yet she does not seem interested in Jon’s strength.  Either to use or become.

‘So why is she here?’

Surprisingly, the warrior woman appears to grasp her intentions and speaks first.

“Are you ready to ask now?”

Matylda smirks at the fox girl.  She could read Sayuri’s thoughts simply by watching that expressive face.  In fact, she'd been waiting for Little Li to start sniffing around.  Did not expect her to flank the other factions in the harem by adding more yanese though.

Or send the new token beastkin to do her scouting.

Well it's not like the knight minded.  Or feels her position threatened.  Isabeau is securely in the second wife’s camp.  And, foolishly or not, considers Matylda a close friend.

So as long as she didn’t screw up too badly?  Sister Ushinua will protect her dear half sister’s friend.  Even if that friend has the same ex-boyfriend.  One, always too late to save the girl, Theovald Airnett.  A duke, and new husband of Tourin’s crown princess, Milisant Angelles.

Besides giving Milisant the resources to challenge her brother Filip, the crown prince, who had already married a daughter of Duke Gautier Baramont, for the throne of Tourin.  It also instantly made Dame Jouveral persona non grata at court.

Effectively ending a successful career in the Order of the White Rose.  Thanks to both talent and a string of higher ranking lovers.  While also making it political, and possibly actual, suicide for any man, worth the ambitious woman’s time, to get involved with her.

Leaving the bold and very open minded woman quite, well, frustrated.

“Yes.”  Fox girl glances at Isabeau and Ymanie.  “I understand why they are here, Sister Matylda.”  An ear flicks.  “I do not understand why you are here.”

The knight smiles wide.  “Isn’t it obvious, sister Sayuri?”  Spreads her arms and hooks them over the tub’s rim.

“It is not.  That is why I ask.”  The fox lifts her tail higher for the servants to comb.

Isabeau and Ymanie glance between their seniors, listening attentively.

Dame Jouveral sighs.  “I am here, and I have waited, because I need a man.”

“Need a man?”  Sayuri looks like she just swallowed a bug.  She does not like how indiscriminate the tall woman’s answer sounded.

The ex-knight chuckles in reply.  “Hehe.  Of course.  That is the only way I can use my gift.”

Ymanie unconsciously interrupts, “Gift?” before going quiet again.

Matylda confidently winks at the viscountess.  “Yes, I can be what men really want.”

“And how does sister Matylda do that?”  Fox girl’s tail slaps against the side of the tub.  Splashing water.  Her opinion of this woman drops with every response.

Despite the danger, the Dame cannot help but goad her interrogator a little.  “While you beastkin have your nose and ears?  Us humans have our minds.”  She sees fur bristle.  “I don’t hear what men say.  I hear what men mean.”

“What do you, uh, mean?”  Sayuri’s rusty-red ears go flat and orange eyes narrow.

The former captain massages her healthy D-cups.  “Even before I joined the order.  Every man interested in me?  Was not looking at me.”  Squeezes her nipples and frowns.  “They were always looking before me.”

“Maty?”  Isabeau worries for her friend.

Matylda smiles at the young lady’s concern.  “It is okay, princess.”  Holds up a hand.  “Some are destined to be wives.  Others are fated to be mistresses.”  A shrug.  “Kept women.”

“Before you?”  Ears still flat and eyes still narrowed.

Dame Jouveral pulls a comb out of a servant’s hand and begins plucking the tines.  “Yes, before.  They were looking for a lost lover.  Who their wife used to be.  Another’s mistress.”  Plucks more tines.  “Or something forbidden.  Like a sister.  Mother.”  Leers.  “Daughter.  A superior.  Even another’s wife.”

“So you…”  Tail prowls.

Another sigh.  “By listening to what they mean?  I discover what they want.  Who they want.”  Hand on her heart.  “And I become that.”

“Become that?”  Sayuri looks doubtful.

The always other woman snickers.  “Hehe.  Oh I don’t really become them.”  Smirks.  “Just enough for the man to think of me as them.”  Counts with her fingers.  “I act like them.  Dress like them.  Even talk like them.”  Tweaks her nipples.  “At least when we are… intimate.”

Ymanie blushes, surprising the veteran knight who thinks.

‘You’ve been in an orgy every night.  Kissing, licking, and rubbing all over each other’s bodies.  But roleplay embarrasses you?’

"So who does our husband really want?"  The fox doesn't feel like humoring this woman anymore.  But she should finish what she starts.

Matylda doesn't even hesitate.  "I do not know."

"Maty?"  Isabeau looks worried again.

Her senior laughs.  "Haha.  By Metia’s mercy I swear.  There isn't one before me."  A sad look.  "There are many."

"Many?"  That gets Sayuri interested again.

Dame Jouveral nods.  "Our Jon may have a young virile body.  But he has very old eyes."  A distant stare.  "When I look in them it feels as if he has loved more, and lost more, than anyone I have ever known."  Looks up.  "Even me."

Ymanie asks, "So who will you be?" innocently.

The aging chevalier laughs again.  "Haha.  I will be me."  Nods.  "A very willing, and very grateful, old mistress."  Lifts her boobs.  "It is far too late for me to be anything else."

The viscountess's eyes squint, "Willing?  Grateful?  Huh?" then get very big,  "You're the eight reasons!" she exclaims.

Matylda smiles and tilts her head.  "I am the eight what, Ymanie?"

With everyone, even the servants, looking at her.  Isabeau's childhood friend starts feeling very self conscious.

Her voice gets quiet.  "Well, the first night I met Jon we, uh, danced."  Twiddles her fingers.  "Told me a story.  About a scholar's friend.  And.  And he asked about a mistress…"  The words become illegible mumbles.

"Sister Ymanie, I cannot hear you."  Fox girl matter of factly says.

"Oh!  I remember."  The princess points a finger up.  "You told me about it after the ball.  Now how did it go…"  Pinches her chin.  "Right, a scholar's friend asked him if he should find a young or old mistress."  Her friend nods.  "The scholar answered old and gave eight reasons.  Umm…"

The old mistress motions her to continue.  "Yes…"

Isabeau counts with her fingers.  "Oh!  One, more experienced.  Two, tries harder.  Three, less worries.  Four, more discreet.  Five, better sex.  Six, no virginity.  Seven, complains less.  Eight, more grateful."

Ymanie nods and Sayuri ponders.  Matylda?  Bursts out laughing.

"Hahaha!"  Facepalms.  "Oh Metia.  You are a sneaky bitch."  Lays her head back.  "After I lose everything.  Find the man looking for me."  Looks at the viscountess and princess.  "Thank you, my ladies.  Now I know what I want to be."

"Is that all you want?"  The fox side-eyes the ex-knight.

Dame Jouveral gets a wicked grin.  “Oh, there is one more minor thing.”  Waves a hand in the air.  “You see, beastkin.  Your mate?  He will set the world on fire one day.  And when it is Tourin’s turn to burn?”  Leans forward and stares.  “I want to be there, at his side.  Watching it all turn to ash.”  Leans back and lifts one leg up out of the water.  “And when that thoroughly useless man is brought before him?  And cowers and prays for his life?  Begs this lady knight to rescue the lord damsel?”  Wiggles her toes.  “I will put this foot on his face and say…

…

No.”

Angelles, Isabeau Manel (female, human, tourinese)

Baramont, Ymanie (female, human, tourinese)

Jouveral, Matylda (female, human, tourinese)