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The Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus repeated her prayers to the Tomb for the entire shuttle trip to the First House. Saying the words, clacking the bones on her various rosaries, forcibly biting the inside of her cheeks whenever she made a mistake.
She had no room to make mistakes where she was going.
When the message came, Harrowhark was shocked. An invitation to the First House, a place no one had heard from since long before she was born, to meet with the Empire’s Crown Prince - one that as far as she could tell, no one else had known existed. If it weren’t for her own tests performed on the message, she would have thought it was a hoax, perhaps perpetuated by the Third or the Fifth in an attempt to annex the Ninth.
Which was why she’d accepted the invitation, after all. She was going to plead her case to the first person who had ever thought to reach out to them, this Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, to grant the Ninth House enough resources to simply survive independently, to not have her House, which she was to be the salvation of, die with her. She was willing to do anything and everything possible to get this done.
But before Harrowhark could consider what she could offer, a downward motion from the shuttle caught her off guard. She tied a torn off piece of one of her mother’s veils across her eyes, and went to one of the windows. She was greeted with a planet that seemed nearly entirely blue - so bright, so buoyant.
She was going to have to tie a second piece of veil across her eyes if she was going to survive down there.
When the ship had landed and the door opened, Harrowhark assumed her best Reverend Daughter pose - back straight, shoulders out, rosary in hands - and walked into the lions’ den… only to find that it only contained a red carpeted walkway, framed at each side by skeleton constructs holding spears every five feet or so. As she took in the sight, the front pair of skeletons turned their spears, pointing towards the entrance of a slightly-decrepit castle. Every other pair followed in turn.
These were unlike any skeleton constructs Harrowhark had ever seen, fueled by a power she was totally unfamiliar with. Maybe, if the talk went well, she’d have time to study one.
But first, she needed to have the talk. She walked down the entire length of the carpet, silently praying the entire time. She prayed for composure, she prayed for strength, but most importantly, she prayed for results.
This was all she had left.
When she reached the entrance, a small old man came to greet her, introducing himself as ‘Teacher.’ There was something odd about him as well, but since Harrowhark couldn’t put her finger on it, she wrote it off for the time being. As Teacher escorted her to where the Prince was waiting, she said one final prayer in her mind towards her Beloved, locked in the Tomb.
She simply prayed that she remained safe.
In the end, Teacher had led her to a locked door, saying that he could not advance beyond that point. The Crown Prince was on the other side.
So Harrowhark finished her prayers and opened the door, made her way to the throne at its center, and kneeled in front of it.
“Been awhile, necronerd.”
No. Absolutely not. This could not be happening.
There was no way that Kiriona Gaia, the Crown Prince of the Nine Houses, was Gideon Nav, of all people. The lone survivor of the Creche Massacre, who had escaped the Ninth House at the age of eleven and hadn’t been heard from since.
But sure enough, the person Harrowhark saw in front of her was the spitting image of Nav: stupid red hair, glowing gold eyes, a smile so big and bright it made Harrow avert her eyes from it as a child. Only, there was something different in those eyes now. Something harder, something sharper, something… predatory.
Harrowhark didn’t like it one bit.
“Gonna say something, Reverend Daughter? I get that I’m a lot to look at now, but I do have other shit to do today.”
It took that for Harrowhark’s attention to fall from Nav’s face to everything else. She’d become an utter exhibitionist, stretched sideways over an elaborate gold throne and clothed in the absolute opposite attire of the Ninth: a white jacket, unbuttoned over her bare torso, and matching pants that were tighter than anything Harrowhark had ever seen outside of one of Nav’s old skin mags. The only thing on her that even hinted of her past life was her footwear, a set of thoroughly beaten black combat boots.
And of course, a subtle, gold crown adorning her fiery curls.
This had to be a joke, right?
“Griddle,” started Harrowhark, steeling herself back into the persona she had cultivated carefully for years back home. “Whatever you are doing, please explain yourself. If this is all just meant to be a waste of my time, then I might as well go back to the Ninth to report it as such.”
Nav had the audacity to laugh.
“You really haven’t changed, Nonagesimus,” she said, adjusting her position so that she was sitting properly. “Or at least, you haven’t changed in that way.”
Harrowhark could feel herself growing red with embarrassment under her paint as the implications of Nav’s statement settled in.
“Out with it, Nav.” Harrowhark said, tired of her games.
“That’s not my name anymore,” Nav responded, with a coldness that Harrowhark never would have associated with her back on the Ninth. “Hasn’t been for a long time. It’s Gaia - Kiriona Gaia, or if you’re into titles, Her Most Serene Highness Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia the First, First Lieutenant of the Cohort, heir to the Emperor Divine.”
The silence that followed was something else. Harrowhark felt the tension tighten around her like a noose. How did the happy-go-lucky idiot she knew turn into this power mad, spoiled brat?
At that moment, Nav smirked. “But if I’m cool with you, you get to call me Kiri.”
So a little bit of the happy-go-lucky idiot was still in there. That’s good, there was something to work with.
“I’m not calling you Kiri.” Harrowhark said curtly.
“That’s good, because you don’t have permission yet,” Nav- Kiriona Gaia replied, leaning towards her left and crossing her legs, resting her face on her hand. “But you do have permission to answer this next question: why do you think I summoned you here?”
Harrowhark considered the query for a second. The most obvious answer that came to her mind is that this was nothing more than a cruel prank - it seemed in line with what she’d seen of her current behavior.
“I have not really considered it,” Harrowhark eventually answered. “I came to make my case to the Crown Prince for new resources to be sent to the Ninth House, in order to save it from ruin.”
Kiriona cocked an eyebrow. “Harrowhark Nonagesimus asking for help, never thought I’d see the day.”
“I would not be doing that unless I absolutely needed to, trust me.” Harrowhark hoped that if she stood her ground, Kiriona would just tell her what was going on so she could be on her way.
“Alright gloom mistress, calm down,” said Kiriona, sounding bored out of her mind. “You’re here for the same reason the other House heirs were here before you. My dear dad, for some reason, has gotten it in his mind that I need a wife.”
Harrowhark’s jaw went straight to the floor, or it would have had her skin not been there to keep it from doing so. She had been dreading the implication that Griddle of all people had holy blood in her veins, but there she was, saying it like she was talking about cleaning her room. This… pretty much destroyed everything she had previously thought about the Emperor Undying.
But she didn’t have time to unpack ALL of that, so she focused on the other bombshell Kiriona had dropped.
“I… have been brought here… for you to propose marriage to me.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” responded Kiriona.
The silence that followed was the complete opposite of what came before - the tension gave way to awkwardness, and Harrowhark had trouble finding her next words.
But when they did, she couldn’t help but smile while delivering them.
“And despite being the Emperor Undying’s spawn, you couldn’t get any of them to say yes.”
Kiriona winced. It was like the old days all over again.
“I swear, Her Boniness, there were reasons,” Kiriona started. Harrowhark knew a lengthy tangent when she saw one, and prepared accordingly. “First off, the Second House heir and her cavalier were boring as shit. Also, I’m pretty sure the heir had feelings for the cav. Both of the Third House heirs had their eyes focused on each other more than me, which hurt my feelings. The Fourth heir and cav were literal children, no thanks. The Fifth heir and cav were married, I wasn’t getting in the way of that. The Sixth heir was a nice guy, and his cav was a smokeshow, but they’re both absolute weenies for the Seventh heir, who was too ill to make the trip out here. And I think we both know that the Eighth House is not worth fraternizing with.
“And speaking of,” Kiriona added, a twinkle in her eye. “Where is our dear Ortus?”
Harrowhark shuddered, hoping she could have gotten away with appearing at the First House without her cavalier present.
“He had a stomach ache,” she explained. “Sister Glaurica would not permit him to accompany me.”
“Ahh, good old I’m-Gonna-Fucking-Die Disease,” responded Kiriona, chuckling at her own joke. “Wish that worked for me back on the Ninth.”
“It's a shame that the Emperor Undying wasn’t around to write you a note,” Harrowhark replied. “Now, if you don’t mind, I will take my leave.”
“Oh come on, Harrowhark, why so soon?” asked Kiriona.
“It’s quite simple,” she responded, finally standing up from her kneeling position. “I came here to find help for my House, whose continued independent existence is the sole reason I live and breathe. And I arrived here to find out that the invitation was only sent so you could go hunting for a bedmate. Since our goals do not align, I will head back to the Ninth, my head held high, to inform them that I have failed and look to find other methods of keeping my home from dying. Good day, Crown Prince.”
But as Harrowhark turned around to leave, she once again heard Kiriona’s laughter, which was sounding forced even by her standards. So, in a move she regretted immediately, she turned back around.
“What are you laughing at now, Griddle?!” she snapped.
Kiriona eventually ceased her laughter, turning on her smug ‘business face’ in the process.
“Oh, Reverend Daughter,” she said, sounding like she was about to activate a trapdoor. “You haven’t even considered that by marrying me, you would have a direct line to the Emperor Undying himself, who would be happy as a clam to help one of his own Houses escape from starvation and poverty.”
Something was wrong here. Griddle was making sense.
“You can’t possibly mean that.” said Harrowhark.
“But I do,” responded Kiriona. “I need a wife to get Dad off my back, and you need my dad to save some lives. I think an arrangement can be made.”
Harrowhark took a deep breath. She did not WANT to marry Griddle. She would rather make herself a sewn tongue than do so. But in the end, she was the Reverend Daughter, leader of the Ninth House and the heir to a long line of Tomb Keepers.
Her wants did not matter right now.
Consequences would come later, and she imagined they would be plentiful, but at the moment, Harrowhark just needed to do her job. And that job was to put her House before her personal needs.
So she took a deep breath, and she nodded.
“I believe an arrangement can be made.”
Kiriona nodded in turn, a smile forming on her face. This existed in the middle ground of her previous smiles, Harrowhark not finding herself able to interpret what it meant.
This, above all things, truly scared her.
“I’ll make sure everyone knows,” said Kiriona, pulling out a tablet of some sort and tapping on it for about ten seconds. “And everyone knows. The paperwork will be sent within an hour.
“Just gotta do one more thing first,” she added, almost as a postscript. Kiriona pulled out a simple black ring and held it out to Harrowhark. “Your left hand… darling.”
Harrowhark took the deepest breath she’d ever taken, and reached out her hand. She shivered when Kiriona placed the ring on her finger, but then the Crown Prince did something truly unexpected.
She placed a kiss on top of her hand, and Harrowhark felt… warm?
She had shunned physical contact most of her life, only initiating it when she was either fighting with Griddle or imparting blessings upon her congregation. This was… new.
She could even say that she was interested.
When Harrowhark looked up at Kiriona afterwards, any previous malice or contempt she saw before had evaporated and been replaced with something else: hunger.
Griddle looked positively ravenous.
So when she leaned forward to kiss Harrowhark, she reciprocated.
It was her first kiss.
And when Kiriona picked her up and held her against the wall, she got excited.
This was new. This was fascinating. She had to know what came next.
Kiriona tossed her jacket off, leaving her completely topless. But before Harrowhark could even process her first time seeing breasts that weren’t her own, Kiriona was reaching an arm between her thighs, unzipping her pants and yanking them - and her boxers - down, completely exposing Harrowhark.
"Holy shit, Harrow, you're absolutely soaked."
And before Harrowhark could even think about that, Kiriona touched her and everything changed.
Her Divine Highness clearly had at least some experience with this, displaying a perfect knowledge of anatomy as she completely undid her with her fingers. Harrowhark could barely control herself, making noises she wouldn't be caught uttering back on the Ninth. Everything became a blur, just wave upon wave of pleasure hitting her as she writhed on Kiriona's hand.
And when Harrowhark climaxed, she screamed Kiriona's name before collapsing against her, doing her best to catch her breath as she came back to down to Earth.
"You're probably going to be doing an awful lot of that, Harrow," said Kiriona, who had walked all the way back to her throne before depositing Harrowhark, now completely boneless, there. "Gonna go collect the paperwork now, babe. Just rest for a moment."
And as Harrowhark rested, she watched the Divine Highness - her new fiancée, she realized - collect her jacket and walk out the door.
As she adjusted to the quiet and finally recovered to the point where she could pull her pants back up, she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. When she turned to look, she gasped as she saw the figure of her Beloved, The Body. Harrowhark was terrified - she had betrayed her, after all.
But the Body showed no anger, no malice. She simply gave Harrowhark a simple gesture: a thumb's up.
Not knowing what to make of that, Harrowhark slowly dropped herself to her knees against the throne. She had a lot of prayer to do.