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Morning in Vasilios is often radiant. Similar to now, as fair legs touch the cold marble floor, skinny yet firm and strong arms overthrow a silken robe over one's shoulder loosely, tying it around the hip, enough to cover her body, mostly.
Medea Solon, the newly crowned Empress of Vasilios, overlooks her kingdom from the vast balcony of her royal chamber. The plain arrogance and yet blatant regal, commanding energy she exudes easily make her stand out.
A contented sigh escaped her as she was in the sight, the symbol of her newly acquired power to rule over the kingdom. The empire she chased, is now hers.
After she overthrows Eros and manipulates the people of Vasilios to her side, she also successfully attained the Church's supports, which eventually lead her to the throne, the highest step of the mountain.
She won. She took her revenge. She avenged her Nana, her servants, the people of Vasilios, all of those who had passed unfairly for her to take down the Queen pawn, Eros.
But of course, she couldn't have done any of that without one woman, one she swore to hate, one who unknowingly made her way into her heart, unprovoked. Psyche put her where she is now. Or well, Psyche made it possible.
If she was the villain, the dark horse, then Psyche is her Queen, the hero, the usurper. Somewhere halfway through the story, she realized that her purpose has partly changed. It was no longer about control or power. Revenge, yes. But power? Not so much. It's good to have power. But Psyche made her change that. Before she knows it, she was fighting tooth and nail, to protect her. The woman with the golden hair, who is loved by God.
Speaking of which;
"Lady Medea..? " hazy with drowsiness, the sweet voice called for her from their shared king-sized bed inside.
The mere sound of her voice alone sparks a smirk on the Empress. She lazily goes back into their chamber without closing the glass door, letting the cool morning air come in.
With grace, she crawls from her side of the bed, and beside Psyche, whose gold hair sprawled on display messily, her eyes still droopy from sleep, and limbs lazy. Medea thought of how blessed she was to have the private access to view this godly darling.
Propping one arm on Psyche's side and the other to caress her bangs away, Medea lightly kisses her forehead, and then her nose, and finally her lips.
"Good morning there, my radiance," she muttered with a slight smile. So softly given.
Psyche's cheeks became tainted pink. Gosh, was she not getting used to receiving this rare affection from the infamously known cold-blooded woman.
"G'morning… " came the reply in a whisper, reflex for her embarrassment.
Medea chuckled, to her it was adorable.
"Did my action came off a bit too unlikely? " inquired the Lady
Psyche greatly denied.
"No, my Lady, I'm just not.. Quite used to it, yet. "
Medea offered a gentle smile instead.
"I do believe I meant for you to stop calling me so formally, Psyche, darling. You are now my lover, in private and in the eyes of my- our people. There's need not for any more formality between us. "
Psyche paused. "...Me.. Medea.. " she stammered, half avoiding eye contact.
"Again, love… " Medea mumbled in the husk of her voice
Psyche bloom red in the intimacy of it.
"Medea… " she said, a bit louder
With sensual care, Medea caress the side of her face, inching closer
"Louder… " she purred
Psyche felt her breath hitch. She can feel Medea's breath close to her lips.
"Medea. Medea, Medea, Medea! " she gasps, and gasps, and then she closes her eyes as Medea's word greets her, before the kiss comes.
"Good. "
Violet hair mingles with golden, soft lips meet. Medea kissed her slow, and sensual, and loving. It was almost painful and Psyche reciprocate with equal wants. Had Eros ever kiss her like this? Not that she recalled. Not that it's significant no more.
All that's matters is Medea. Her lover. Her Empress. Her woman. Hers.
And the thought sort of hitting her there and then. Ah… so this is what real love feels like. Is like. None of that phony facade. Only sincerity. And dare she guess possessiveness. She welcomes it all if it's Medea. Because Medea swore, and she proved to her. "When your life is in danger, I will save you " and save her she did.
A gentle moan vibrates in Psyche's throat as Medea licks her upper lip, asking for permission. The more submissive woman opened her mouth and felt a long, soft tongue assaulting her, she did not even fight for dominance. Because Medea can rule her any day, in any way, she would accept them all. Medea would never push her beyond her boundary. She would never go beyond her line. And Psyche trusts her like that.
Medea traces her hand by her side, it tickles, it illicit a whimper from the Callista.
Medea put the heavy makeout to an end with a bite on Psyche's lower lip.
Oh, and were they dying for air. Psyche more than ever.
The golden hair girl instinctively licks her lips in slight, and covers half her face, revealing only her droopy eyes, heavy with lust.
Medea gulped thickly, her smile turns animal, one she usually throws when she's winning an evil duel. Like a predator. However, unspoken care lies behind her eyes.
"Oh dearest, if you look so desirable I might have to pound on you right here, right now. And you know we don't have the luxury this morning. "
Psyche huffed a quiet laugh
"Why, is it me who started this? I'll hold you on this, take responsibility as soon as we could. " she teased, although she meant.
Medea hummed low.
"I guess the Queen knows not when to bare her claw, very good, my Queen. Treat me as a lover would, for you are my equal. " Medea asserted, granting Psyche a gentle kiss by the corner of her lips.
"I have to eventually adopt, love… this new world you're showing me… " Psyche softly spoke, a 'thank you' loud behind her then, silence.
And Medea got it. She always does.
"I love you. " announced the Empress and Psyche blush yet again.
God, was her Empress, bold.
"I love you too… " a bashful smile decorates the woman
What started as a betrayal, has grown beautiful into what they have now. From wanting to be and wanting to die. They learned along the way, that life has so much more to it when they share it.
And with that, Medea offers a hand to her Queen, with a gorgeous smile she will only ever grant to her.
"Shall we, my love? "
And Psyche would take it.
"We shall, my dear Empress "
Just like any other love story. Or maybe not. After all, they did share their existence.
The Empress with her Queen by her side. Equals. And happy.