Exalted Champion: Ch 11 (rough draft) (Patreon)

Chapter 11: Hearth Secrets

Rachel pulled her disk out and I felt the privacy enchantment activate but she did not change her words or tone and gave me the eyes when she spoke. “Exalted Prince husband, it was such an honor beyond counting that one of the Lord Pillars of the holy blood of Ack should even cast his eyes upon me, truly an auspicious day for myself.”

Her tone let me know we were not yet free to speak openly, “Yes wife, quite the blessing for you,” I said keeping an officious tone with her, I saw her gaze meaningfully at my crotch and push her cheek out with her tongue, “Come suck my cock,” I said having no idea what that was about but I trusted her as I unbuttoned my pants.

She quickly fell to her knees between my leg and kissing and licking my cock as she took the head of my dick into her mouth. With mechanical and passionate precision, she began sucking me.

“Mmm, yes holy husband,” she moaned from round my cock as she pushed the full length of my cock down her throat.

The carriage rocked gently as we moved through the city streets, the rhythm matching Rachel's movements as she took me deeper. Her tongue swirled around my shaft, and despite my bewilderment, my body responded to her skilled attention.

"That's it," I groaned, playing along with whatever charade this was. "Show your devotion properly."

Rachel's hands gripped my thighs as she bobbed her head, her throat contracting around me. The wet sounds of her mouth filled the carriage, obscene in the confined space. I tangled my fingers in her dark hair, guiding her movements as she continued her performance.

Then I felt it, the subtle probe of magic against the carriage walls. Someone was trying to listen in, to pierce our defenses. Rachel's eyes met mine over my cock, wide with warning.

I understood now. The magical probe Rachel had detected meant we were being watched, listened to. My cock in her mouth was cover, intending for those listening to see only what she wanted them to see. The wet sounds, my groans, her muffled moans around my shaft would mask any conversation we might have.

"Fuck, Rachel," I breathed, loud enough for any listener to hear. "Your mouth feels incredible."

She hummed around me, the vibration sending pleasure through my body, but her eyes remained alert, focused. I could feel the magical probe, but the magic on her enchanted disk was stronger. I felt when the unseen battle was won, and the magic became fully subverted under its control.

I gripped her hair tighter, using the motion to lean down closer to her ear. "How many?" I whispered, barely audible.

She pulled back just enough to gasp, "At least two sources," before taking me deep again, her throat working around my length. "Different... mmph... different signatures. should… Mmph… be good now." she said gaging on my cock.

just because we no longer had to put on a show did not mean Rachel would not finish what she started. I smiled at the mischief in her eyes as she redubbed her effort on my cock. Her rhythm intensified, her throat constricting around me with each downward motion. The carriage hit a bump, but Rachel didn't falter, maintaining her grip on my thighs as she worked. The vibration of her humming sent waves of pleasure through me, building toward an inevitable crescendo."Rachel," I groaned, my hips bucking involuntarily. "I'm close."Her eyes met mine, a flash of determination in those ice-blue depths as she doubled her efforts. Her tongue pressed against the underside of my shaft, tracing patterns that drove me to the edge. I clutched the seat cushions with one hand, the other still tangled in her hair.The pressure built, coiling tight in my core until I couldn't hold back any longer. With a final thrust, I erupted, pumping hot spurts down her throat. Rachel didn't pull away, swallowing every drop, her throat working rhythmically as she drank me down. Her eyes never left mine, watching my pleasure with satisfaction as she milked me completely dry.When I was spent, she slowly pulled back, her lips giving one final suck to ensure nothing was wasted. A thin strand of saliva connected her bottom lip to my cock for a moment before breaking. When she finally pulled back, she licked her lips and gave me a satisfied smile. "Always delicious, husband," she purred, wiping the corner of her mouth with one delicate finger."That was..." I struggled to find words as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through me."Necessary," she finished for me, her expression shifting to something more serious as she straightened her dress and settled back onto the seat beside me. "And enjoyable. But we have more pressing matters."I tucked myself away and buttoned my pants, my mind clearing as the post-orgasm haze faded. "The temple of Ack," I said quietly. "They're watching us."Rachel nodded, her eyes darting to the window to ensure we were still moving through the city streets. "Not just watching. They're actively monitoring you now. That wasn't a casual probe, it was targeted, had to buy time for the enchantment to calibrate to the new magic. What did the lord of the pillars say?"

"Octavian said I was already inducted into their order," I explained, keeping my voice low despite the privacy enchantment. "By right of conquest. Apparently when I killed Leonard, I inherited his position in some twisted cult called the Order Obedientia."

Rachel's face paled. "The Order Obedientia? That's not just some fringe cult, Eric. If what I've heard is true, they're the inner circle of Ack's temple hierarchy. The most fanatical, the most powerful."

"And apparently the most corrupted," I added, pulling the medallion from my pocket to show her. "This feels wrong. Everything about it reeks of the abyss."

Rachel took the medallion carefully, examining it without touching the symbol directly. "The corruption must have started at the top," she whispered. "If the Order Obedientia is compromised, then the entire temple structure could be infiltrated."

"Which means what, exactly? How far does this go?" I asked.

achel's eyes widened, her fingers tracing the corrupted symbol on the medallion without touching it directly. "This goes deep, Eric. The Order Obedientia operates as the inner circle of Ack's temple hierarchy. They're the keepers of doctrine, the enforcers of orthodoxy." She handed the medallion back to me with visible reluctance. "They control which interpretations of Ack's teachings are considered canonical."

"So they're the religious thought police," I said, tucking the medallion away. The weight of it felt wrong in my pocket, like it was heavier than it should be.

"Worse. They have direct influence over every high priest and priestess in the empire. Even my mother answers to them, though she doesn't speak of it." Rachel's voice dropped lower. "The Order claims to commune directly with Ack through a holy artifact and rituals only they are permitted to perform."

And now those rituals are tainted by the abyss," I muttered. "Any idea how long this corruption has been spreading?"

Rachel shook her head, her dark hair catching the light filtering through the carriage windows. "I don't know. The Order is secretive by nature. My mother mentioned them rarely, and always with a mixture of reverence and fear." She paused, brow furrowing. "But Ashley might know more."

“She does know things about people, and a secret order is composed of people…” I said nodding that our resident gossip queen would definitely know more than me and probably more than Rachel.

"We need more information before we decide anything," she conceded. "Ashley has connections throughout the nobility. If anyone knows the whispers about the Order, it's her."

The carriage slowed as we approached the gates of the House of Stars. Through the window, I could see the sprawling estate that had become our true home, its walls gleaming in the late afternoon sun, with its black clay tile roof creating an imposing outline.

"We tell no one about this except Ashley," I said firmly. "Not even the slaves. The fewer people who know, the safer everyone will be."

Rachel nodded, her expression grim. "Agreed. Though Timmothy might need to know eventually.”

The carriage came to a stop at the front entrance, where Timmothy stood waiting, his tall elven frame perfectly poised as always. His silver-white hair was tied back in its customary low ponytail, his slate gray eyes already assessing us as we descended from the carriage.

"Exalted Prince, Exalted Lady," he greeted with a formal bow. "Welcome home. I trust your business at the bank concluded satisfactorily?"

The question was innocent enough, but I caught the subtle note of concern in his voice. Timmothy missed nothing, and he'd clearly sensed our tension.

"As well as could be expected," I replied, clapping him on the shoulder as we walked inside. "Is Ashley here?"

"No, Exalted Prince. Lady Wintershore is still at the college as you ordered, ensuring the changes to the royal apartments are up to your standards." Timmothy fell into step beside us, his movements fluid and silent. "She mentioned dining arrangements for this evening. The Mermaid's Bounty along the college wharf has been reserved for your party this evening."

“Very good Timmothy, we won’t be long. I wish to speak with Sarah and check some enchanting calculations. See that Sarah and the others are waiting in a private lower room for me.” my words were telling, and Timmothy with his experience just nodded and went to see to the arrangements.

“Enchanting lab, we must keep the emperor’s order in mind.” I said to Rachel as she took my arm and we descended into the basement of the house of stars and to the secret tunnel that would lead to the enchanting workshop below the observatory tower.

The tunnel walls passed in a blur of enchanted light as Rachel and I made our way to the workshop. My mind churned with the implications of what we'd discovered. The Order Obedientia wasn't just some fringe cult—they were the inner circle of the empire's primary religious institution, and they were corrupted by the abyss.

We arrived at the hidden workshop, enchanted lamps flickered to life automatically, illuminating the stone chamber with its array of workbenches, arcane instruments, and enchanting apparatuses.

I removed the ten adamantium coins from my spatial ring, placing them on the central workbench where they caught the light with an unnatural gleam. Even in this form, they radiated power.

"Five for the emperor's needles," I said, separating them into two piles. "And five for a weapon that might actually stand a chance against the abyss."

Rachel circled the workbench, her analytical mind already at work. "The needle-making process is straightforward enough, but a weapon..." She trailed off, fingers hovering over the adamantium coins. "That's going to require significant modifications to our equipment."

"What kind of modifications?" I asked, watching as she began pulling reference books from the shelves.

“Let’s see,” Rachel said, tapping her lips as she flipped through pages in various books, “We have the crucible and furnace, so melting the adamantium is straight forward… So, that means we will need to make a weapon mold. What type of weapon do you want to make? sword, axe, spear?”

“Hum let’s see here. I’ve been using the spear, but that was more due to the fact I could channel mana and spells through it. Lets start with the basics how much material would each need?” I asked.

“Well, hum.” Rachel tapped her lips as she thought and did some quick calculations on a loose sheet of paper. “The spear, the spear head would take less adamantium, but if we want the haft to have some or be entirely made from it that would take the most adamantium. A sword… she drew out a few basic designs, a katana like blade, and a average hand and a half sword… We could make a core or just the edge or both, still would be less than the spear… And the ax, edge, handle core, that would take the least…. yes” She finished her doodles, talking mostly to herself, before finally looking up at me.

Rachel started, “Spear would take the most, as we would have to have at least some adamantium in the shaft. The sword is a middle approach, unless you want a great sword, and an ax, even two handed and double bladed would take the least.” She nodded and I could tell at least she thought she was in the ballpark of how much material each would need.

I studied the quickly drawn pictures, “Humm, my longsword is at journeyman… I should probably stick to that.” I said pointing to the drawing of the sword.

“You’re certain?” Rachel asked, though it sounded less like a question and more like she was making sure I understood the consequences. “It’s going to take a fair amount of time and effort just to make a mold and create the proper equipment for enchanting. We could always make something else down the line, but once you choose, it’ll be a while before we can swap.”“Yeah, the sword feels right. Plus, it draws less attention. Not many nobles walk around brandishing axes or spears, after all.”She grinned. “Absolutely true. All right, give me an hour or so to pull my notes together, then I’ll start working on the modifications and equipment. After that, we’ll reconvene for dinner?” She was already glancing sidelong at her enchanting tools, practically itching to get started.“Sounds good. We’ll do one needle for now, say Sunday?” I asked, heading for the hidden door.

“Yeah, at least we won’t have to worry about the needles. I still need to make the thread though. Honestly if your okay with it we could give the recipe to the imperial agents, have them make it?” her lush Lips were turned up in a quirk of a smile.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, we can make some of the thread for ourselves, but the empire should do some work, I think. We need to head into the dungeon tomorrow, we all need to reach level twelve, and soon. ready for that?”

“Mmm hum, I’ll be up in a few.” Rachel said she was already getting lost in her work.

I kissed her on the cheek and headed out of the workshop. I went through the storage room and to the main tunnel that led back to the manor house.

I emerged from the tunnel into the basement of the House of Stars. The familiar musty scent of old stone mingled with the sharp tang of cleaning oils used on the wooden support beams. Timmothy was waiting for me at the entrance, his posture as impeccable as always.

"Exalted Prince," he greeted with a slight bow. "I've brought Sarah and her handmaidens to the lower receiving room as requested."

"Thank you, Timmothy," I said, my mind still swirling with the revelations from the bank vault and my encounter with Octavian. "Lead the way."

Guiding me through the dim corridor, Timmothy led the way as enchanted lamps cast long shadows on stone walls. The slave quarters beneath the House of Stars had transformed into a cozy warren of interconnected rooms. Bright rugs and plush cushions covered polished floors, softening an area once stark and cold. An inviting warmth, with scents of tea and fresh bread, lingered in the air. “If I may, Exalted Prince,” Timmothy said quietly, his composure unshaken, “the women seemed... quite eager to speak with you when I collected them.”

I nodded, curious about what had prompted such a reaction. "Have there been any issues I should know about?"

"Nothing concerning, Exalted Prince. The women have been adapting well to their new circumstances. the new artisans and musicians you purchased have been holding classes in line with lady Ashley’s directions and many of the staff are rotating through the offered tutoring until they find something that they enjoy. it has had a remarkable positive effect on many." he inclined his head.

“And you, what craft or art have you been practicing?” I asked genuinely curious as to what Timmothy had chosen but also to make sure he has not just been working the hole time as well.

“Ah, wood carving master. I find it a practical art, it is enjoyable and allows me to fix any small imperfections I find throughout the manor.” he said the last with a shudder, like the small score marks were an insult to his person.

“Ha, very good Timmothy as long as it is bringing you joy.” I said chuckling at the practical yet artistic flavor Timmothy laced his words with.

“As you say master, they are waiting in here for you.” He opened the door with a practiced motion, revealing a cozy chamber that bore little resemblance to what had once been a dreary storage room. Plush rugs covered the stone floor, and enchanted lamps cast a warm glow over comfortable furniture arranged around a small hearth. The transformation was impressive – a testament to Ashley's determination to make every corner of the House of Stars feel like home.Sarah sat on a cushioned bench, her posture perfect despite her status as a slave. Her raven-black hair was braided elegantly, framing a face that maintained its aristocratic beauty even in captivity.

Sarah's presence in the room was unmistakable, a stillness at the center of her three handmaidens — Enya, Yarie'a, and Daisy — who clustered around her in a constellation of bright eyes, poised hands, and nervous glances. They had arranged themselves not according to rank or protocol, but in a subtle architecture of comfort and solidarity, knees nearly touching, arms occasionally brushing as they shifted on the deep green and black cushions. They were dressed in the livery of House Grayson, tailored tunic dresses of forest green, with trim so black it ate the lamplight, and sashes of silver cinched at the waist, each bearing my crest over the heart, a great tree with knotwork branches that curled into itself, the roots mirroring the canopy in a permanent embrace. The embroidered sigil looked almost alive, the silver thread catching and scattering the firelight from the hearth in restless flickers.

They looked up as I entered, and for a moment there was a flash of something, hope, before Sarah smoothed her skirt and rose to greet me. She did this with a precise, almost ritual grace, and the three handmaidens followed her lead, standing in a line behind their old mistress, hands clasped before them, eyes fixed on me.

"Sarah," I greeted her, my voice softening. "Thank you for coming."

She dipped into a deep curtsy, the movement fluid despite the constraints of her collar. "Master Eric," she murmured, eyes downcast. "We are honored by your presence."

I gestured toward the cushioned seats. "Please, sit. All of you."

Sarah settled back onto the cushioned bench, her handmaidens arranging themselves around her with practiced grace. There was something different about them. There was a subtle glow that seemed to emanate from within, barely perceptible yet undeniable. Unseen yet I could clearly through it through the slave bond.

“I wanted to know how the altar construction has been going?” I asked, my tone finding the warm calm of peace one can only find in a well-cared for and love filled home.

Sarah's eyes brightened, a subtle flush spreading across her cheeks. "The altar is nearly complete, Master Eric. We've been working diligently day and night." she said, her voice soft but carrying a resonant quality that seemed to fill the room.

I studied them more carefully, noticing the change that had been building gradually since they'd come into my household. The four women possessed a confidence and a luminosity that hadn't been there before, not just health returning after hardship, but something deeper, more profound. It existed alongside her submission. Their eyes seemed to catch and hold light differently, reflecting something internal rather than external. The contradiction was fascinating.

"Tell me more about the altar," I said, settling into a chair across from them. "Is it truly almost ready?"

"Yes, Master Eric," Sarah replied, her voice carrying a warm resonance that hadn't been there before. "It is in a chamber behind our quarters. We've carved the sacred stones and built the hearth, carved and inlayed the proper sigils, and anointed it with the oils of the home."

Enya leaned forward, her usual shyness giving way to enthusiasm. "The final consecration requires only your presence, Master." Her fingers twisted in her lap, a gesture both nervous and eager. "The goddess has blessed our efforts thus far."

I settled into my chair, struck by the transformation in these women. They had a goal, no, a devotion and knew that what they did was the will of their goddess. It was a path that they had been asked to walk, and they placed one foot after the other along this path with surety of devotion and faith.

"When would be an appropriate time for this consecration?" I asked, genuinely curious about their faith and the ritual they described.

Sarah's eyes met mine, a flash of heat behind her reverence. "Whenever you wish it, Master Eric. The altar awaits only your... touch to complete it." Her voice lingered on the word "touch," infusing it with meaning beyond the obvious.

"I would be honored to help complete the consecration and properly have Amara in my home," I said, watching as relief and anticipation rippled through them. "Perhaps tomorrow evening, after I return from the dungeon?"

"That would be perfect," Sarah breathed, her chest rising with a deep inhale. "We'll prepare ourselves and the chamber accordingly."

"There is one complication we should discuss," I said, my tone growing more serious. "My new acting wives, Tiffany and Adelia, will be visiting the House of Stars soon. They're not aware of our... special arrangements here."

"More than discreet," Enya added, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "We'll be invisible if needed."

I nodded, appreciating their understanding. "I doubt that will be necessary. Just be mindful of your interactions around them. Sarah they will more than likely target you, as you are the fallen noble… I… I must apologize for this."

Sarah's eyes softened, her lips parting slightly. "Master, there is no need for apology. We understand the realities of your position." The light caught in her raven hair as she tilted her head. "We've endured worse treatment than the scorn of noble wives, Master Eric. Your concern honors us." Her fingers traced the collar at her throat absently.

"Still, they can make life difficult," I said. "They'll be staying at the royal apartments primarily, but they'll be required to make appearances here as well." The firelight danced across her face, highlighting the quiet strength there. I found myself captivated by the subtle changes in her, the way her shoulders no longer hunched with defeat, how her eyes held mine with confidence even as she acknowledged her submission.

Yarie'a leaned forward, her slender frame radiating that strange inner light I'd noticed earlier. "Master, perhaps we could serve in the kitchen during their visits? Or tend to the gardens?" Her suggestion carried no fear, only practical consideration.

"That might work for some occasions," I agreed. "But you're part of my household now. I won't have you hiding away completely."

Daisy, the youngest of the handmaidens, tilted her head. "Will they stay in the main wing with you and the mistresses?" Her question held a hint of mischief despite her innocent expression.

"No," I said firmly. "They'll have quarters in the east wing, well away from our private spaces."

Sarah shifted closer, the movement subtle but deliberate. The lamplight caught in her dark hair, highlighting blue undertones that matched her eyes. "We will be whatever you need us to be when they visit, Master Eric." Her voice dropped lower, intimate. "Invisible servants or... whatever else serves our home best. A home can hold many pleasures… It can also hold many cruelties."

"I've heard rumors," Enya said softly, "that Lady Adelia has a particular... dislikes when it comes to beast-kin slaves."

"She won't touch Sasha or any of the others," I assured them, my voice hardening at the thought. "I've made that abundantly clear to both of them."

"They'll test boundaries," Sarah warned, her fingers brushing against my knee in a touch both comforting and enticing. "It's what noblewomen do when establishing territory."

"Let them try," I replied. "They'll find my boundaries quite firm."

Daisy giggled, the sound quickly muffled behind her hand. "I would love to see their faces when they realize how hard your boundaries are.”

"That would be quite a show," I agreed with Daisy, unable to suppress my own smile. "But let's try to avoid direct confrontation when possible."

"We understand discretion, Master Eric," Sarah said, her voice carrying that peculiar resonance that seemed to fill the room. "Amara teaches that the hearth must sometimes hide its true flame from those who would extinguish it."

"Tomorrow then, if I’m able after the dungeon," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "We'll complete the consecration."

Sarah's smile was radiant, her entire being seeming to brighten at my words. "We'll prepare everything, Master. The hearth will welcome you home, whenever you are ready."

I left Sarah and her handmaidens with promises of tomorrow's ritual hanging between us, their luminous gazes following me as I closed the door. The weight of everything pressed against my chest, the abyssal corruption in the temple, in the dungeon and in the world, the adamantium coins, needles and weapons, the massive tendril that was reaching for that thing in the sky just outside of the empire and the looming threat of Tiffany and Adelia's arrival at the House of Stars. how would they help or hinder. to hinder me was to hinder themselves, yet cruelty often harms itself along with those it intends to wound.

I needed a moment to breathe, to process.

My feet carried me through the familiar corridors of my home, past walls adorned with artwork chosen by Ashley, tapestries that told stories of ancient heroes and forgotten legends. The main parlor beckoned with its promise of comfort and familiarity.

I pushed open the heavy oak doors and stepped into the grand receiving room. The late afternoon sun streamed through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. A fire crackled in the massive hearth, its warmth reaching out to welcome me home. The room smelled of cedar and spice.

I sank into a plush sofa chair. Simply sagging until I felt like a deflated balloon shaped like a puddle. I closed my eyes vigorously rubbing my hands over my face.

when I opened my eyes, Timmothy was standing by the door with an amused smirk on his face. "Refreshment, Exalted Prince?" he asked, already moving toward the drink cabinet. I could hear the barely contained laugh.

"Something strong," I replied, rubbing my temples. "It's been a day. and pour yourself one also."

He poured amber liquid into a crystal tumbler, the soft clink of glass against glass oddly comforting in its mundanity. When he handed me the drink, our eyes met briefly, and I caught the flicker of concern in his gaze.

"Is there anything else you require, Exalted Prince?" he asked, glass in hand.

“Sit, and drink,” I said pointing to the chair across from me. He sat the amused smile on his face warm and friendly.

We sat in simple silence. The only sounds the occasional. “Huff,” by me followed by a grunt. “Ugh,”

Timmothy would reply with a solemn, “Humm,” or customary, “Mmm hum...”By the time Rachel found us in the parlor I was feeling much better from our man conversation.Rachel stepped into the room as I let out a final loud yawn and “Ugh,” and stood to my feet. “Um, are you okay?” she asked completely bewildered by the sounds she had been hearing.“Yeah, feel right as rain now. Thank you, Timmothy. I will return after our dungeon run tomorrow if I am able.” I said.“As you command master Grayson.” He inclined his head to me.

"We should head back to the college," Rachel said, stepping fully into the room. "It's getting late, and we don't want to keep Ashley waiting." She'd changed into fresh clothes, her hair pulled back in a simple style that framed her face perfectly.

I nodded, downing the last of my drink. "The carriage should be ready."

We made our way through the main hall, where several slaves bowed as we passed. The grand entryway of the House of Stars opened before us, its marble floors gleaming in the late afternoon light. Outside, our carriage waited, my four centaur slaves already harnessed and ready.

Thalia, the lead centaur, straightened when she saw us approach. Her chestnut hair was braided back from her face, revealing the delicate curves of her ears and the proud arch of her neck. The leather harness crossed between her breasts and over her human torso, designed to be both functional and comfortable.

"Master," she greeted, her voice melodic despite the formality. "We're ready to depart at your command."

I helped Rachel into the carriage, “Very good, back to the college,” I said, before climbing in myself. The interior was plush and comfortable, the seats upholstered in deep green velvet that matched my house colors. As soon as we were settled, I felt the gentle lurch as Thalia and the others began to move, their hooves striking a steady rhythm against the cobblestone drive.

The carriage rolled through the gates of the House of Stars and onto the main road leading back to the college.