Mollethin Spire

Rachel passed the great hangings of eldritch lore as she proceeded to the stairway of her tower. With a wave she covered them with a veil of illusion so that any who came calling upon her would see chivalric scenes and the glories of the past. She ascended to the highest floor, feeling the power of the deep build in her as she did. Age upon age and stone upon stone, Ugelor had been built as the ultimate conduit, so that the deep gods could almost reach out their tendrils and touch the waking world. The height of Mollethin Spire was second only to the Deep Chapel itself in their influence. When she stood in her bedroom she spoke the secret word, and the ceiling opened up, allowing her access to that unhallowed place. She would not taint it with the affectations of the surface world: doffing first her shoes, and slipping out of the shoulders of her dress, she left herself in only underwear, and with little more than a touch more she was naked.

Staring up into the darkness she wondered whether the feeling of separation, the layer of nothingness holding back the power that she felt all around her, was real. She wanted to be close to the gods and to please them. It might only have been a trick of her mind to think that they were not there with her and touching her. The result of desperation rather than cthonic repression. "I am here," she whispered as she mounted the staircase carved from darkness. "They think they can pry me from Cador's hands and yours. I will show them the depths of your majesty."

The only light in the black of the sanctum was the silver-blue water of the pool. It was set into an indentation from the stone, which Cador had cut out from the floor of the Chapel in anticipation of her coming. When Rachel stood before it, she saw her face reflected in it, its individualities deepened by the arcane light. Her raven-black hair swallowed the glow of the water and shone. In this place of power she couldn't help but notice the curve of her shoulders and the lines of her neck, the suggestions of her breasts just outside the reflection's edge. She grinned. If she could be enamored of herself, the men with their pride and piety would fall into line like lambs being led to the butcher's block.

Rachel pulled her clothing from the energies of the room around her. It came together stitch by stitch in her reflection. A dress of the deepest blue, bluer than the sea, wrapped itself around her. The neckline was low enough to make any man wonder whether it was immodest without giving him grounds to levy an accusation. It twinkled with ornamentation of silver and gold. Which one will try to draw your eye first? she thought. They would insinuate that they were worried for her wellbeing even as they stared at her cleavage or the way the dress draped over her ass.

The water began to bubble. She placed her hands on either side of the pool and stared into it. The silvery light inverted itself, darkening and then turning red, the color of her lover. Like her he was naked, though in the waking world he might still be with their guests. "It's settled," Cador said. The sound of his voice was only within her mind. "By nightfall we dine. I come to you now."

She grinned. All those knights quartered apart from one another, each of them dreaming of her, and of overcoming him. "I've just gotten dressed," she purred.

"Then undress yourself. What do I care?" he said. She loved the way his jaw twitched when he smiled.

"Just what I hoped you'd say," she answered, draping herself over the pool so that he could see all of her, waiting for him.