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Philippa had heard of her of course. Everyone had. The Virgin of Aedirn was quite a character. Bards loved to tell how she defeated a dragon. It was amusing how many also turned the story of Saskia the Dragonslayer into a romance as well. There were two types of romances; tales of loyal friend who usually sacrificed himself so Saskia could defeat the dragon and tales of Saskia rescuing a dashing man. Philippa had scoffed when she had noticed that former story was favoured by male bards and latter was favoured by female bards.
Still, mere thought was stupid. At first Philippa had thought that the dragoness had absolutely no romantic interest in anyone. She watched her at nights in the tavern like an owl – pun intended. Saskia visited plebeians once in a while but her eyes never strayed to men or women. Philippa had tried to capture dragoness’s interest few times before she had decided that she needed another tactic than seducing the dragon.
Until one night the tavern was hosting arm wrestling matches. Who would have thought that a “virgin” would prefer shorter company? It didn’t fit the image. One expected tall young men. For some reason everyone thought also that the dream prince was blonde and sweet. Philippa had yet to decide how to use Saskia’s true preference.
“Bloody plague”, Cynthia rasped when the whip hit a flesh wound. The voice was enough to pull Philippa back to present.
She gazed long and quite thin red line on her apprentice’s back. It looked painful and Philippa loved it. The power she held over the other woman. Not specifically this woman. And how she wished she could to this to the Witcher… Philippa struggled to stay calm when the wave of overwhelming desire hit her.
The Witcher was powerful and the most addicting thin in the world was to dominate powerful personae. Men, women, elves, even dwarves – and Philippa didn’t even like those short bastards who probably got off when they saw gold.
She really should not let her thoughts wander. This time she was pulled violently back when the door creaked.
“Miss Eilhart, may I…” Saskia opened the door and quieted. Philippa had to admit that the dragoness acted as virgin splendidly blushing and squeaking. She turned around and stammered: “I… I’m sorry. Um, I’ll see you later?”
With that she was gone. Philippa was not sure if she should laugh or not. That had been cute.
“We shall continue this later, Cynthia,” Philippa informed her student.
“Yes, master,” Cynthia purred. Philippa ignored her and washed her face before dressing calmly. She wasn’t in a hurry. Even royalty waited for her. She was in charge, the one who held more power. And she loved it.
**
“Saskia,” Philippa greeted the dragoness. She had chosen a gown that hid little and tended to trigger imagination. She had seen the same style on Triss Merigold once. The red head had looked utterly delicious. That reminded her… Rumour said that Triss had a Rose of Remembrance. The flower had few interesting uses.
“Philippa,” Saskia greeted hesitating only a second. She flushed bright red again. “I… um. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“You may always interrupt, dear. You wished to see me.” Philippa was delighted to see Saskia swallowing. Her eyes didn’t stray. If only there was a quicker way to control the dragon…
“Err, right. Would you like some wine?”
“Thank you, dear.”
Saskia poured them both cups of chilled and spicy red drink. It was called wine but it was made of local berries. Saskia help out a cup that was less decorated than hers. Saskia seemed to love that cup. Philippa only knew that it was a gift.
“I plan to meet with Henselt.”
“Do you think that you can avoid bloodshed?” Philippa asked. Not that she cared, she was simply curious. She might have gained Saskia’s trust but parts of the dragoness were still mystery to her. Such as this will to help others and fight for equality.
“I must to try.”
“Do you wish me to go with you?”
“Please.” Saskia didn’t say ‘I need you’.
Yet.