On Saint Seiros’ Day, a neat box arrived at Edelgard’s door delivered by Cyril. He barely looked at her before rushing off to fetch a broom.

Hubert was in the room with her. He insisted on being the first one to open the package.

“There’s armor, at least,” he said, holding up the pieces distastefully. “You’ll look like a Dancer.”

Flexible leather armor, freshly made for the ceremony. Pieces for her back, chest, and the outside of her thighs. Padding for the knees and elbows. The arm pieces left no openings for access to the easy veins in her forearms. That was reassuring, at least. It also came with ritual underwear: breasts covered with a slip so they wouldn’t chafe against the leather armor, underwear held together with laces. She put on the whole ensemble without thinking too much. She had been under Thales’ thumb for so long that she knew when to resist and when to give in. In a few weeks’ time, she’d never be under the Church’s thumb again. She’d play the good girl for them a while longer.

Thales was staying in town near Garreg Mach. He had visited her just that morning. In between lurking and glowering, he said she might as well do the Ritual of Reforging. If she was to be the perfect weapon, then the other Crest should be strong, as well. She should expect to drink a large chalice of blood. The idea of it disgusted her: Rhea’s blood in her mouth, Seiros’ blood washing down her throat, but it was better than them transfusing it to her body directly. And it sounded much less gruesome than the ritual Edelgard had built up in her imagination. The last Hresvelg who had gone to Garreg Mach, some six generations before her, had been so offended by the ritual that no Hresvelg child went back until Edelgard. She had imagined something vile: being made to eat human flesh or being connected directly to Seiros by a tube to transport blood. A cup she could manage.

Thales said he wanted whatever blood she could save. It seemed a very stupid request if he expected her to drink the blood. What was she supposed to do, hold it in her mouth? Edelgard had no doubt he was serious. He’d find a way to use this against her if she came back with nothing.

The ceremony was to be held in a special garden in the monastery late at night. Edelgard went as far as she could with Hubert. Then she was alone.

The garden had tall trees blocking the view from the monastery, and large, imposing walls to keep anyone from entering. Guards, layers on layers of them, each one a higher rank than the next the closer she got, met her at each stage. She expected to be cold in the robes, but the gardens were kept warm with magic. When she finally made it to the garden, Rhea was there, along with two bishops. She, too, wore white robes. Her hair had been taken out of the star-like headdress and braid, though there were still orchids braided into her hair. The body under those robes was—distracting. She looked like those statues of the ancients, like how she might have been when she was Seiros. Was she supposed to look friendlier and more approachable this way? Edelgard would not be swayed.

“My child,” Rhea said when Edelgard reached the garden’s entrance. “Thank you for meeting me here tonight.”

“What do you require of me?” Edelgard said without bowing her head.

“You must first be anointed by the bishops, as Wilhelm was anointed when he was in your place,” Rhea said.

Fat chance, Edelgard thought. There hadn’t been bishops back then. She lowered her head and was sprinkled in musky-scented oil. The bishops washed her hands and feet. The bishops’ hands moved higher up her legs. Edelgard shifted, then outright pushed his hand away. She had no plans to be incompetently fondled by anyone.

“Your Highness, we ask that you be cleansed all over,” one of the bishops, the woman, whispered. “The archbishop may deny you if you are not. You are the last Hresvelg, and the risks of childbirth are too great… this will almost certainly guarantee you a child with a Crest on the first try.”

As though she’d live long enough for a baby to be in the cards. Let the Crest of Seiros die. She had no need for any of it.

“Child,” Rhea said.

She let the bishop move the cloth up her legs. The ties of her underwear were undone, and one bishop held her shoulders from behind to keep her from moving while another spread her pussy open with a cloth and swiped her clean. Then an oiled finger reached into her—surely this was excessive?—and twisted about, as though she might have misplaced some dirt up her cunt. She was tight and couldn’t relax, even with a bishop whispering that Saint Seiros was watching them, and Seiros would be so pleased to have her clean. Rhea’s eyes were on her, full of that damnable… kindness, if it could be called that. An illusion. A millennia-old trick.

She was getting wetter, making it easier for the bishop’s probing finger to turn around inside her and massage her insides.

“You look just like Ionius,” Rhea said.

“Which one?” Edelgard bit back. Not her father, or he would have kept her… he hadn’t been capable of protecting her from anything since she was a child, but he would have at least warned her. The finger in her cunt was now probing at her anus. The bishop behind her was spreading her cheeks so the one between her legs could poke at her more easily. The bishop had blunt fingers. She couldn’t see how it’d ever get inside her.

“Within the Church, it is said that Ionius I struggled valiantly, too. So much that he almost refused the gift. You have his spirit, child,” Rhea said. “What have you been told about the ritual?”

“I was told to expect blood.” Edelgard’s eyes swept the garden. No chalices that she could see. She trembled. She wasn’t the sort to back down from any challenge, and, she reminded herself, she knew there was always the risk that her body might be used this way. She had just expected it to be Agarthans or enemies in her future war, not the Church.

“Saint Seiros has not walked this earth since the days of Lycaon. Whatever blood we have of hers is certain to be mere dust after all these years,” Rhea said. How could she laugh so calmly, like she was correcting a common misconception? Only a monster… “Sharing blood is only one way of restoring your Crest. There are other ways we can call on Seiros’ power to fill you again, so the generations that come after will be stronger and hardier. Your ten siblings…”

“What do you know of my siblings?” Edelgard said.

“Child… Edelgard. I didn’t know any of you were sick until they had all passed. If only your family had permitted this ritual to occur more often; I’m sure it is no accident that you had the Crest of Seiros and survived. Bear down on the finger. That will make it easier to enter.”

Edelgard shut her eyes and pushed, and the finger popped into her. It pushed deeper into her right away. She felt like there had to be an easier position than this, but she refused to bend down for any bishop. Maybe that was why she had to be taken on her feet. At first, she could feel every knob and bend in the bishop’s finger, but he had applied more oil and it glided in and out of her asshole. Her cunt, she could understand, but why back here, too?

“Your Excellency, how long must we prepare her?” the bishop with his finger in her ass said.

“Traditionally, until you can fit a hand in both holes.” Edelgard’s body instinctively clamped down. No. Absolutely not. Rhea caught her eye and smiled, amused. “We can use magic to make sure she won’t break. As deep as you can with two fingers should be fine.” Her tone with the bishops was different: less smothering and treacly, more like they were soldiers she could order about.

The bishops were rearranging her between them so the one in front could fuck her with both hands. The one behind her had most of her weight and was spreading her cunt and ass apart; the one in front took one leg on his shoulder and was working on getting a third finger inside her cunt. The bishop’s fingers rubbed against each other through the walls of her cunt and ass. She hadn’t realized how close those two passages were until now.

A second finger pulled at the rim of her ass. Edelgard sucked in a breath.

This was not even close to the worst violation that had been visited upon her: an Agarthan hitting her with a whip for what felt like hours while her father watched, a bird-beaked man injecting her with blood up and down her arms and legs, rats crawling over her to get to a brother’s corpse, human flesh caught between their teeth.

It was fine. She was in the open air. If Rhea wanted to fuck the Crest of Seiros back into her, then Edelgard would let her. She’d take the tool that was given to her and use it to crush Seiros when the time came. She’d use anything, do anything, to accomplish her goals. Then again, it wasn’t like she had a choice beyond wallow or succeed.

“Try her,” the bishop said, withdrawing his fingers at last. He put her leg back on the ground. The bishop behind her reached down and put two fingers into her ass—Edelgard grunted and almost fell forward, but caught herself on the other bishop just in time. This one had slimmer fingers, but the edges of her nails hadn’t been filed down perfectly. Edelgard had felt the scrape on the way in and out. The same fingers went into her cunt. They twisted around a few times, as though testing her elasticity—don’t tear, don’t tear, Edelgard thought—then came out.

“She’s ready, Your Excellency.”

“Fine work.” Rhea opened her arms, and the bishops released Edelgard. Edelgard made her arms and legs move down the path until she stood across from Rhea.

In the center of the garden was an altar with more squat vials of oil. A strange… she couldn’t say what it was. Some kind of stone contraption on a platform. There were raised pieces and indentations and claw marks in the rock. Was she to sit on it?

“No one showed you how to do your face,” Rhea said. “Wilhelm lined his eyes in green and pinked his mouth. All the others after him did the same.”

“No one instructed me to do so.”

“So many years pass, and the only thing linking you and Wilhelm is this blood. Your face has none of him and your coloring… those are Arundel eyes. Your character is not so similar, either. Wilhelm was always so kind, and from what I have seen, Edelgard, you burn with hatred. I’ve seen your eyes open during prayer and how your lips are still during Mass. Only your body is suitable for Seiros, and even that is in doubt. It’s been many years since I’ve seen a Hresvelg as small as you. You’re stunted.”

“Only a tyrant would demand perfect obedience from their followers,” Edelgard said. She couldn’t hide how taken aback she was by Rhea’s comments. Her first thought was that months of planning were for nothing. Then she calmed again, realizing it was only Rhea’s distaste for her person that made her so angry. Her ambitions were still safe. “I don’t deny what you’ve said. My faith has been tested. It is being tested still.”

“The Church has always been here for you. Get on the dais.”

Getting on the dais put her on the same level as Rhea. She was a tall, beautiful woman in the moonlight. Her hips looked firm but soft. The comfort and kindness she had tried to show Edelgard when the bishops were probing at her was thinning. Good. She would prefer to deal with Seiros the monster than Rhea’s false face. She tried to sit. Rhea caught her by the arm. Her hand was large and cold against her skin.

“Let your stomach touch this part,” she said, indicating the wide, flat area. “And put your hips here.” Indicating the raised portion. It’d mean facing down at a steep, awkward angle. Edelgard hesitated. “Believe me when I say this is the best position, child. When Seiros takes you, you won’t want to look at her directly. We’ll blindfold you if we must.”

Edelgard stiffened. As much as she hated the idea of being fucked on her stomach, she hated the idea of her senses being bound more. “No.”

“Then get on.”

The bishops were behind her again. They helped her up, then settled her in place. They put pillows under her head, hips, and stomach, raising her higher still. They pinned her robe to her waist, exposing her legs and holes to Rhea’s eye. Rhea probed at her pussy with her fingers: two at first, then three. Edelgard crossed her arms under the pillows and buried her cheek in them. Firm but yielding enough.

To her annoyance, Rhea had an excellent touch. Even if all she had done was fuck her ancestors, that was still at least a dozen lovers… not that this counted as anything except yet another way for the Church to remind her of her place. She was plenty wet and relaxed now. To her embarrassment, her hips were grinding into the pillow underneath. One of the bishops was chanting a spell, and she felt her cunt thrum with magic. Someone, the male bishop from before, put his finger in her ass. She remembered the knobs, and hated that she could now tell them apart by touch.

Rhea’s fingers curled inside her as the bishop cast the same spell on her ass. Her clit grazed the pillow, and—she did not come. She managed that, at least. Her asshole fluttered around his finger and her cunt clenched Rhea’s digits, and she took a sharp, deep breath—but she didn’t come.

The bishop removed his finger from her ass. Rhea rubbed her fingers against her walls more firmly.

“You’ve kept yourself for Seiros,” Rhea said with approval. “Let my touch bring you closer to the goddess. Recalcitrant child that you are, the goddess will still love you.”

“I don’t understand—ah! How this is meant to work,” Edelgard said. “All you’ve done is—” She would not come with Rhea’s fingers inside her. She would not come mid-sentence. “If sex was all it took to pass Crests, then surely they’d be more common.”

“Yes, shared blood is the only way for humans to pass Crests down between generations. But the light of Seiros is more penetrating, child. She will give you the power you seek when you’re ready.”

Edelgard forced her hips higher up so the pillow was no longer rubbing against her clit. That only opened up space for Rhea’s fingers to find her clit, instead. Rhea tested her, tapping it first slowly, then more quickly. Rubbing it in circles. Rubbing one side, then the other. Rubbing it on both sides—grinding on it hard, until Edelgard moaned. Then the fingers inside her were plunging in with greater speed and power. She was either going to violently piss or come. She wasn’t sure. She had emptied her bladder before coming, but she felt the urge building inside her again. If she soiled herself in front of Rhea, she might die from the humiliation before she could cut off Rhea’s head.

“There,” Rhea said. “Let yourself ease into it. You’re young, and you’ll soon understand your hatred is a small thing. ”

“It’s not a small thing,” Edelgard groaned. Her hips, stupid animal things, thrust Rhea’s fingers deeper into her cunt, wormed her clit further onto Rhea’s fingers. “You’ve done nothing for me. The goddess is dead—”

“Insolent! Wretched!” Rhea whispered. But she didn’t stop touching her. “You’re lucky the bonds between us are stronger than your petty hate. You are not the first to hate me, and you will not be the last. I can promise you that!”

It felt like her world was whiting out, despite the protective cover of darkness around them. Edelgard felt her cunt pulsing and a liquid shooting out of her. Her fist pounded the stone under her in frustration or pleasure. She had touched herself before, but it had never felt like this: so violently good, so ugly and debasing.

“Fetch the blindfold,” Rhea said while Edelgard was still recovering. “I’m afraid she cannot be trusted to keep our secrets. She cannot be brought to reason just yet. We will have to tame her.”

“No—no,” she said, throwing her arms out. She was stronger than most, and knocked the bishops away easily, until Rhea pinned her wrists over her head and grabbed her by the hair to keep her head still. “Please!” she said. The cloth went over her eyes and was tied. Her hands jerked, trying to undo it. Rhea pulled her arm up and away, and a padded cuff went around her wrist. She did the same with her other wrist. Chains linked the cuffs together, and pulled her arms straight. No matter how she struggled, she couldn’t bend her arms to get the blindfold off. If it weren’t for Rhea’s weight on top of her, she would have jumped off the dais and ripped her hands off, if she had to, to get free.

“No,” she said. “No, no—no, no…” She tried to roll over so she could flip Rhea off her, but Rhea was too heavy, and she was too weak. Her skin flashed hot and cold. She was crying under the blindfold—the only good thing about it.

“Poor child,” Rhea said. Her hand fell on Edelgard’s hair. “You are safe here. No harm will come to you in this forest. I hope next time you’ll know how to take it, but it must be this way today.”

“No. No, no, never. I’ll never do this again. Now that I know what this is, it disgusts me. This is sick.”

“Ssh,” Rhea said. “I’ve seen Byleth’s plans for you. A Fortress Knight is just what you were bred for. The Hresvelgs have been Adrestia’s rulers and protectors for years. Embrace your destiny.”

She was not a shield. She would be a sword or an axe to cut a path, but a shield? Rhea had no idea who or what she was yet. Her plans… Edelgard breathed deep. She could smell the flowers in Rhea’s hair, smell the grass, the fragrant oil between her legs. She’d take this and make Rhea regret it.

Rhea patted her ass. Her fingers parted her pussy, tested it. Something wet and flexible licked her from entrance to clit, then did it again.

“One of you, keep her busy,” Rhea said, withdrawing. “Seiros is coming.”

Footsteps moving around her. The bishop who had held her from behind put a hand on Edelgard’s ass. Then her hot face came between Edelgard’s legs. The wet sounds and pleasure was almost enough to distract Edelgard from the sound of bones deforming and Rhea panting as she transformed. Surely she wasn’t meant to take Rhea in that form? The tongue against her cunt felt like a rough intruder. It didn’t hurt, and it wasn’t irritating enough for her to tell the bishop to stop.

The ground and the stone mount holding her up shook as the beast walked over. A giant tongue brushed over her back, then a massive clawed—hand, it still felt like. It felt like the sky had dropped down on her. The calming smell of the garden and forest vanished; all that was left was the smell of dirt coming up from the ground and a cold, animal scent from above. The bishop kneeling between her legs shifted.

“This is an offering, O Seiros,” the bishop said. “Edelgard von Hresvelg gives herself to you to be filled and restored to her strength.”

“Small,” Seiros said. “Puny. I’ve had to hold myself back from giving you my full strength. Wilhelm could do it, but you, child, cannot. You have strayed from the right path. Let this serve as a correction.”

“You’re behind the times, beast,” Edelgard said.

“The goddess will watch over you, child. And when she comes back, she will bless you, sullen and undeserving as you are.”

Something huge was between her legs. The bishop spread her legs further to accommodate. A large… thing pushed against her. Seiros’ cock. The bishop, again, helped: pulled her pussy lips apart, used her hand to guide the leaking shaft, and laid down across Edelgard’s hips to keep them from moving away as Seiros’ cock pried her apart. Edelgard couldn’t stop pulling at the chains. One of Seiros’ clawed hands, easily twice as large as Rhea’s, landed on her back, with enough force that her claws would have cut her open had she not been wearing armor. It knocked the air from her lungs, and the head of Seiros’ cock was suddenly inside her. It pushed against her, inexorable, from every side. She could barely breathe.

The bishop moved off of her. A small comfort when she was speared on the tip of a dragon.

“Too weak to take it without magic,” Seiros grumbled. She moved her hips in circles, and Edelgard felt her entire body get dragged along with its motions. “Wilhelm… why couldn’t you have been with me longer?”

“Just finish yourself,” Edelgard said. “If this is how it has to be done, then so be it.”

The dragon thrust forward, shoving Edelgard’s hips into the pillows holding her up, so hard that she could feel the hard stone underneath. Her whole body lurched forward, like every organ was trying to escape the intrusion. Even as she reminded herself that this wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to her, it felt close to it: blinded, arms tied, joined with a beast. The darkness, the chains, and the physical violation, of being split apart, reminded her, too much, of the dungeon.

It pulled out and thrust again, this time deeper. Edelgard clenched her teeth. Again, and this time the head of its cock popped out of her. The dragon shimmied its hips, its scales grinding against the back of her thighs and ass, trying to get back inside. The head of its cock was spongier and softer than she expected, and as it tried to force its way back in, it brushed against her clit, over and over again. It likely wasn’t intentional. She could hear Seiros’ teeth snapping above her in frustration, even as the cockhead steadily brought Edelgard closer and closer to climax.

“No, no, no,” Edelgard muttered as her orgasm approached.

“Shut up!” Seiros said, and breached her again. This time, the sudden friction against her clit from the pillow had her coming, squeezing futilely against Seiros and arms pulling at the chains. Seiros made an approving noise and thrusted again, filling her. Her cock went deeper this time, so deep that it hit something within her. The pain broke her out of the orgasm. She’d prefer it to hurt instead of feel good—except Seiros never pounded her hard enough to hit her cervix again, and soon Edelgard could feel the pleasure building up in her thighs and abdomen. “Weakling,” Seiros sneered as Edelgard came yet again. “Tend to me. This hole won’t be enough to satisfy me alone.”

She heard the bishops positioning themselves behind her. She couldn’t tell what they were doing, but from the hands bumping against her cunt and legs, they had to be massaging the parts of Seiros’ cock that her body couldn’t take. Her pussy felt raw and exhausted, but Seiros kept drilling into her. She wanted to curl up and make herself inaccessible. That didn’t work when she was a child, and it wouldn’t have worked now. She buried her face in the pillow. Something wet—Seiros’ spit—dripped from above, getting into her hair and soaking the pillows.

It went on endlessly. It went on long enough that it no longer hurt to be trapped on Seiros’ cock. Her cunt stretched around it, taking it with ease. The bishops were panting behind her. Were they staring directly at her stretched cunt as the cock pumped in and out of it? Would she have to take the sacramental bread from them later that week or see them smirking at her in the monastery halls? Her worst moments always had an audience: down in the dungeons…

No. She had revisited the dungeons enough time for one day. She’d absorb this, just as she had absorbed her lost year, and when it was done, she’d never think of it again.

Her nipples rubbed against the smooth leather armor. Her clit was mashed against the pillow. She was going to climax again soon. The dragon was fucking her faster—judging from the wet sounds, someone was using their mouth on some part of her. Edelgard didn’t want to imagine it. Edelgard turned her face away from the pillow so she could get some air, and Seiros drove herself all the way inside her. Jets of hot, wet come flooded her walls—not just her cunt, but deeper, too. Revolting to imagine Seiros’ seed inside her; even more revolting to imagine it in her womb. But this angle—she understood why she had to have her hips raised this high, had to have the dick driving into her this way. Not a single part of her would go unsullied by this monstrous seed.

She came anyway. Her toes curled hard enough that she heard them pop. It was over. She had survived it. Seiros was still hard inside of her, still shooting seed in her. It was flooding out of her at this point, like a disgusting fountain. Then the dragon sighed and pulled out of her. Its claws scraped against the stone. It made a strange sound. Yawning.

The bishops were pushing the come back into her. One adjusted the blindfold. Another, the knobby-fingered man, was spreading something across her asshole, working something cold and smooth against her hole. A liquid spilled out. The bishop was dumping oil into her ass.

“Don’t you dare put yourself in me,” Edelgard said to the bishop.

“Your Highness, the best chance for the ritual to take…”

Then Seiros would have to also come in her ass.

Her arms tugged at the chains, then went limp. She was too tired to fight it. She had classes tomorrow. An assignment would be due at the end of the week. She had to make sure Jeritza wasn’t galloping around the Abyss attacking people for no reason. She preferred him to kill people for justifiable purposes. If she didn’t have a strong hand…

“Can you take the blindfold off?” Edelgard said.

“No, Your Imperial Highness.”

“No one calls me ‘Your Imperial Highness’ unless it is to deny me. I already know there’s a beast on my back. I won’t look. Please, Your Grace. I’ll have my eyes closed. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll be good, I…” She stopped when the bishops ignored her and dumped a second vial of oil into her ass. Two rough fingers entered her, spreading the oil around from the inside. Then a third and fourth finger from a different hand, pulling at her hole to force it open. They pulled harder and harder, as though they were trying to look inside.

The dragon was back on top of her. The bishops spread her buttcheeks apart, and the cockhead rested against her hole. The weight alone that forced her ass to yield. It hurt less than she expected. Either she was too exhausted to resist, or the magic from before was protecting her. She didn’t care. She had been over this ages ago. Any torture could only last so long.

Once her cock was inside, Seiros thrust back and forth in short, quick bursts. Her strokes steadily lengthened and shifted in angle. Come gushed out of her pussy, displaced by Seiros’ thrusts. Seiros’ cock was wider around the base than it was at the tip, and each time she pushed forward…

Edelgard was no longer tired. The cock was impossibly deep in her, the monster was impossibly deep. Her face felt hot and heavy. If Seiros seated herself fully in her, she would throw up. If Seiros had her, hip-to-hip, she would… She wished the spell hadn’t been put on her. She’d rather bleed to death than to take Seiros’ cock that far in her. Someone had to stop this—she had to make Seiros get off her—

Another few thrusts, and Seiros’ balls rested against her ass. Seiros sighed, pleased. She moved her hips, stirring her from the inside.

“Oh, fuck!” Edelgard said helplessly. She spat bile onto the ground. Her asshole tried to tighten and force itself closed, but the cock remained inside her, fat and immobile.

“You’re an embarrassment to your ancestors,” Seiros said. “My precious soldiers can take more than this. Though I admit, there’s nothing like taking a stubborn young Prince or Princess from behind to teach them the meaning of humility.”

“I’ll burn your gardens,” Edelgard said. Fury renewed her strength. She pulled on the chains hard enough that the bishops whispered nervously behind her. “I’ll burn the monastery. I’ll turn all this to ash. You have no idea what you’ve brought upon yourself. I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”

“You would never be so foolish, child. If you were to march here—why, there would be war in all of Fódlan. Who would be your allies? Faerghus would take my side, and Leicester…” Seiros’ tongue flicked out and curled against her neck and shoulder. “It would be meaningless. This ritual is for the future of a peaceful Fódlan. I am the source of your power. Tonight, we renew my compact with Wilhelm. Your body is mine now, child.”

Wasn’t that a joke. Her body hadn’t been hers in a long time.

Instead of building speed, Seiros seemed to luxuriate in Edelgard’s renewed struggle underneath her. Every time Seiros hilted herself inside her, Edelgard swore and shouted. Her asshole massaged each inch of Seiros’ cock as it tried to close. To her horror, it felt good: the stretch and motions in and out kept a constant flow of stimulation to her asshole, the weight and size of Seiros’ cock put pressure on sensitive parts of her cunt through the thin tissue separating her two holes. If someone put their mouth on her clit, she would’ve come right there, the crowning humiliation of an already tortured night.

The bishops were back at work, rubbing more oil onto Seiros’ cock when she pulled out, and pulling at her asshole to make sure it didn’t catch on anything as Seiros eased back in. About halfway through, the bishop who had held her from behind stuck her fingers into her cunt to keep more come from seeping out. Edelgard’s voice was hoarse. Her head rested against the pillows, mouth open.

Finally, Seiros plunged all the way inside her and came with a loud roar. Her wings beat down, lifting them both, for a horrible second, off the dais, before settling down again. Edelgard didn’t know how long she stayed there. It felt even longer than the first time. Her swollen belly against the stone was deeply uncomfortable. There was too much come filling her, and Seiros’ cock had long become an unwelcome intruder. This cock was the source of a thousand years of Hresvelg power. She’d cut it off. She mouthed it as Seiros kept rocking inside her, pushing her come deeper. I’ll cut it off, I’ll cut it off, I’ll cut…

Seiros pulled out. It felt like a huge, wet snake escaping her bowels. The bishops used their fingers to keep as much of the come inside as they could. Edelgard was aware of the bishops announcing Seiros’ departure and Rhea’s return. What a stupid charade. Seiros had mentioned taking soldiers like this. Did those soldiers believe? Their faith made them weak.

Rhea lifted the blindfold from her face and unshackled her hands. She wiped the tears off Edelgard’s cheeks. Then she fondled Edelgard’s ears.

They felt different. Pointed. Edelgard ran her tongue over her teeth. They felt sharper and bigger in her mouth. Her hands were tipped with claws. Her hair was tinted green.

“The changes will subside by morning,” Rhea said. “You look like you could be my sister from long ago.”

How dare she say that. Edelgard tried to speak. All that came out was a furious scratch of a statement. Come dribbled out of her holes. Her hair was matted to her head. The bishops added more fingers into her. They tilted her hips higher up, shoving her cheek further down on the pillows soaked with dragon spit.

Rhea stepped behind her.

“I couldn’t help but notice, dear, these awful scars,” she said, running a finger along the insides of her thighs. “There are more under this armor. Am I right? I’ve always thought it strange that Ionius had eleven children, and ten were lost within a year. Are these why?”

She felt like her anger was lighting her up from the inside. A furious, burning flame. Get away from me, she wanted to snarl. You have no right to be there. I am the Flame Emperor, and I will burn all that has ever touched me. When she tried to speak, her voice was a gurgle. Was that another one of the beast’s changes forced upon her? She tried to grab Rhea’s robes and strip her of them, but Rhea dodged her nimbly. She pet her hair.

“Regardless of how you feel towards me,” Rhea said, speaking slowly and clearly, “you are still a child of the goddess, and one blessed by Seiros. Whatever troubles you have, I am happy to listen. Let the goddess bring you peace. Good night, child. I hope my words reach you.”

She was left in the garden with the bishops and her deepening, unrelenting rage.