Enslaved by My Forgotten Wife

I lay sprawled across the enormous bed, my limbs tangled in the impossibly soft silk sheets. The mattress seems to go on forever, a sea of plush comfort that threatens to swallow me whole. Boredom has set in, and I find myself rolling back and forth across the vast expanse, occasionally letting out dramatic sighs that echo off the vaulted ceiling.

‘How old is this body?’ I wonder as I start to slowly fall into what Sherlock might call my Mind Palace.’

Just as I’m considering whether I could fashion some kind of makeshift sled out of the silk sheets to slide down the grand staircase I glimpsed earlier, the massive double doors swing open. Vallenora glides into the room, her presence immediately filling the space with an aura of power and authority.

Her gown, a masterpiece of shimmering fabric that seems to be woven from starlight itself, trails behind her like a river of liquid. The circle resting upon her brow pulses with an inner light, casting a soft glow across her ethereal features. Despite the regal bearing of her stance, I can see the weariness in her crimson eyes, the slight slump of her shoulders betraying the toll of whatever matters of state she’s been attending to.

As Vallenora’s eyes meet mine, her entire demeanor transforms. The weariness melts away, replaced by an almost manic excitement that lights up her face like a supernova. Her crimson eyes widen, sparkling with an intensity that’s both thrilling and slightly unnerving. A smile spreads across her face.

“My love!” she exclaims, her voice ringing with unbridled joy. She practically flies across the room, her gown billowing behind her like the wings of some ethereal creature. In an instant, she’s at the bedside, her hands reaching for me with an eagerness that borders on desperation.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Vallenora coos, her fingers tracing the contours of my face as if memorizing every detail. “These tedious matters of state are such a burden when they keep me from you.”

Her touch sends tingles across my skin, a mix of arcane energy and pure, unadulterated affection. The air around us seems to crackle with an invisible force, responding to Vallenora’s heightened emotions.

With a wave of her hand, she dismisses Raven and Lilith. “You’re relieved of your duties,” she says, her eyes never leaving my face. “Thank you for watching over my beloved.”

As Raven turns to leave, Vallenora’s gaze flicks to him. “Wait,” she calls out, her voice lilting with playful curiosity. “Before you go, Raven dear, do report on anything... unusual that may have occurred during your watch.”

Raven stops in his tracks, his back stiffening almost imperceptibly. He turns slowly, bowing low before addressing Vallenora. “Your Grace,” he begins, his deep voice carefully measured, “there was one matter that came to our attention.”

“Wait!” Lilith exclaims, her voice ringing out with an urgency that silences everyone in the room.

Lilith comes to a stop beside Raven. Her gaze flicks between Vallenora and me, a mix of confusion and determination etched across her features.

“There’s something we need to clarify,” Lilith says, her voice low and intense. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. “What exactly is Saber’s position here?”

The question hangs in the air like a physical presence, heavy and unyielding. The very stones of the castle seem to hold their breath, waiting for an answer.

Vallenora’s reaction is immediate. She turns to me, cupping my face in her hands with a gentleness that contradicts the storm brewing in her gaze.

“He’s my husband,” Vallenora declares, her voice ringing with a mixture of love and fierce possessiveness. “We’ve been married for two wonderful years.” There’s a defensive edge to her words, as if she’s daring anyone to challenge this truth.

Lilith sighs deeply, her eyes falling closed as she visibly composes herself. When she opens her eyes again, they shine with a determination that could cut through steel.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Lilith says, her voice carefully measured. “We all know that Saber is your beloved husband. But that’s not what I’m asking.” She pauses, choosing her next words with obvious care. “What I need to know is... is he the Duke?”

Vallenora’s face transforms in an instant, her confident demeanor crumbling like a sandcastle hit by a tidal wave. Her crimson eyes widen, pupils dilating with shock as if she’s seeing the world anew. The question hangs in the air, heavy and unanswered, as if it’s never once crossed her mind in all our time together.

The silence stretches, punctuated only by the soft crackle of arcane energy that always seems to surround Vallenora. Her gaze darts around the opulent chamber as if searching for an answer hidden in the intricate tapestries or gleaming marble floors.

Finally, her eyes lock onto Raven, a desperate plea written across her ethereal features. It’s a look I’ve never seen on her face before uncertainty, vulnerability, a silent cry for help. Her lips part, but no words come out, only a soft, almost inaudible gasp.

Raven stands perfectly still, his dark attire a stark contrast to the shimmering fabrics and polished surfaces of the royal chambers. His face is an impassive mask, revealing nothing of his thoughts or feelings. But his eyes speak volumes. They meet Vallenora’s gaze steadily, unflinching as if he’s waiting for something.

The tension in the room is palpable, like a taut string ready to snap at any moment. Vallenora’s gaze sweeps back to me, her eyes roaming over my form as if seeing me for the first time. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, processing this new perspective, this question she’s never considered.

Her eyes flick back to Lilith, then to Raven, then back to me.

Just when it seems the silence will stretch on forever, Vallenora’s voice rings out, clear and confident. “Why, of course, he’s the Duke,” she declares, her tone brooking no argument. “He has been for two years, just as long as we’ve been married.”

The words seem to echo off the vaulted ceilings, filling the chamber with their resounding finality. Vallenora’s posture straightens, her chin lifting as if daring anyone to challenge her proclamation.

‘It seems she has made her decision. From slave to duke. Not too shabby.’

Raven’s reaction is subtle but unmistakable. A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips, there and gone in an instant. His shoulders shake almost imperceptibly as if he’s holding back a chuckle. There’s a glint in his eye that speaks of hidden amusement.

Lilith’s reaction is explosive. “This is preposterous!” she hisses, her voice dripping with venom. “You can’t just declare him Duke on a whim! Do you have any idea what this means?”

She turns to me, her gaze burning with a mixture of disbelief and grudging acknowledgment. “This... this man,” she spits, gesturing wildly in my direction, “now has actual power. Real, tangible authority over our realm!”

“He’s not qualified in our ways,” Lilith continues, her voice rising with each word. “He doesn’t even know who we are, let alone the intricacies of the political landscape!”

Lilith’s eyes narrow, a cruel smirk twisting her lips as she turns back to Vallenora. “And let’s not forget,” she drawls, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction, “there’s not even paperwork to identify him officially as the recognized Duke, as required by the Isalora kingdom.”

The words land like a physical blow. Vallenora’s eyes widen, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face before it’s quickly masked by annoyance. Her crimson gaze narrows, fixing Lilith with a look that could melt steel beams.

Vallenora’s face goes eerily still, her delicate features frozen in an expressionless mask. Her crimson eyes, usually so vibrant and full of emotion, become flat and lifeless, like pools of blood frozen over in the depths of winter.

As I watch, transfixed, a subtle change begins to overtake Vallenora’s porcelain skin. A faint pink flush creeps across her cheeks, spreading slowly down her neck and along her arms. The color deepens gradually, transforming from a soft rose to a vibrant crimson that matches her eyes. It’s as if her very blood is rising to the surface, called forth by some primal, barely contained rage.

Raven, ever vigilant, notices the change immediately. His eyes widen in alarm, and he takes a half-step forward before catching himself. “Your Grace!” he calls out, his deep voice laced with urgency and a hint of fear.

At Raven’s exclamation, Vallenora blinks slowly as if waking from a trance. She looks down at her hands, observing the scarlet hue with detached curiosity. For a long moment, she stands perfectly still, the only movement the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Vallenora closes her eyes. She takes a deep, measured breath, holding it for several heartbeats before releasing it in a long, controlled sigh. As she exhales, the redness begins to recede, fading away like mist under the morning sun. Within moments, her skin has returned to its usual opalescent perfection, as if the frightening transformation had never occurred.

When Vallenora opens her eyes again, they are sharp and focused, glittering with barely contained fury. She turns to Lilith, her movements as fluid and graceful as ever but now tinged with a predatory edge.

“Why are you going against me?” Vallenora asks, her voice as cold and brittle as ice.

Lilith stands her ground, her purple eyes flashing with defiance. “To stick with our original plan,” she retorts, her tone clipped and precise. “The one we all agreed on two years ago.” Her gaze flicks briefly to Raven, a sneer twisting her lips. “Besides Mr. Traitor, of course, who was too busy…..” she trails off, making annoyed eyes at me.

As the tension in the room reaches a fever pitch, I suddenly realize I’ve had enough of this political intrigue. Without a word, I slide off the bed and pad across the plush carpet towards Vallenora. Her back is to me, her posture rigid with barely contained fury as she faces off against Lilith.

I slip my arms around Vallenora’s waist from behind, feeling her body stiffen in surprise at my touch. Leaning in close, I rest my chin on her shoulder and murmur softly in her ear, “Honey, I’ve been so bored for so long.”

The effect is instantaneous. Vallenora’s entire demeanor shifts, the icy rage melting away as she relaxes into my embrace. I can feel the tension draining from her muscles, her body molding against mine as if we were two pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

With a dismissive wave towards Lilith and Raven, Vallenora speaks, her voice warm and filled with barely contained excitement. “We can discuss this later,” she says, never taking her eyes off me. “For now, I need to attend to my husband.”

Lilith opens her mouth as if to protest, but Raven places a warning hand on her shoulder. With a curt nod, he guides her towards the door, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

As soon as we’re alone, I gently tug Vallenora towards the enormous bed. She follows willingly, her gown shimmering with every movement. I settle back against the mountain of pillows, drawing Vallenora down with me until she’s nestled against my chest, her raven hair spilling across my torso like a silken waterfall.

“I missed you,” I spoke honestly. I’ve really been enjoying my time with her despite it almost entirely being sex. She really seems to love me, which, unsurprisingly, makes me feel happy.

Vallenora lets out a contented sigh, her body melting into mine as if she’s finally found her true home. I run my fingers through her hair, marveling at its impossible softness.

“I’ve missed you too, my love,” Vallenora murmurs, her voice muffled against my chest. She traces lazy patterns on my skin with her fingertip, each touch sending little sparks of warmth through my body. “These matters are all so tedious when they keep me from you.”

“You know,” I muse, my voice soft in the quietness of the room, “I don’t really care if I’m a duke or not.”

Vallenora shifts slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at me. Her crimson eyes, usually so intense, now hold a gentle curiosity.

“Oh?” she says, her voice a melodic whisper. “Tell me then, my love, what are your dreams?”

I shrug, a wry smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Honestly? I don’t know. Right now, I’m just trying to play it by ear and not die. The memory loss pretty much ruined any previous long-term goals I might have had.”

Vallenora nods, her expression thoughtful.

“What about before?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. “Do you know what my goals were?”

Vallenora’s eyes light up, a mischievous glint dancing in their crimson depths. She taps her chin thoughtfully, her delicate brow furrowing as if searching through a vast catalog of memories.

“Ah yes,” she says, her voice taking on an almost dreamy quality. “I believe you once told me your greatest aspiration was to be a doting house husband.”

As she speaks, her eyes seem to sparkle with an otherworldly light, like twin stars twinkling in the night sky. Her lips curve into a soft smile, so tender and full of love that it makes my heart ache.

“You spoke of it often,” she purrs, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “you promised to always be ready and willing to satisfy my every desire. To make love to me tenderly in the soft glow of dawn, to fuck me senseless against the wall of the throne room, to pleasure me in ways that would make even the most experienced courtesans blush.”

Vallenora’s crimson eyes lock onto mine, an intensity in her gaze that seems to pierce straight through to my soul. “You swore that your body would be mine to command, that you would dedicate yourself entirely to my pleasure and happiness.” Her voice quivers with emotion, a hint of desperation creeping in. “You have to believe me, my love. You promised to always trust me, remember? You said you always would.”

I raise an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and skepticism playing across my features. “Oh really?” I say, unable to keep a hint of doubt from my voice.

“Yes!” Vallenora exclaims quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s all true, every word. You were so passionate about it, so dedicated to the idea of being my perfect, devoted husband.” Her eyes are wide and pleading, a frantic edge to her voice that I’ve never heard before. “You have to trust me, Saber. You promised. You said you’d always believe me, no matter what.”

‘It’s actually funny how full of shit she is. But her goals of having me fuck her like a wild animal sound really fun.’

“Val,” I begin, my voice soft but firm, “I understand that you want me to trust you implicitly. And I do care for you deeply.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “But what if... what if I catch you in a lie? If I’m always going to trust you but then discover you’ve been dishonest, what should I do?”

Vallenora’s eyes widened, pupils dilating with a mixture of shock and something that looked unsettlingly like fear. The confident, powerful duchess I’ve come to know seems to crumble before my eyes, replaced by someone far more vulnerable and uncertain.

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Her gaze darts around the room as if searching for an escape from this conversation. The air around us grows thick with tension, crackling with unspoken emotions and barely contained magical energy.

Finally, Vallenora’s eyes meet mine once more. But this time, she can’t seem to hold my gaze. Her eyes drop, focusing on a point somewhere on my chest.

“That would never happen,” she murmurs, the words sounding hollow even to my ears. “I would never lie to you, my love. Never.”