Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress of Ashtown

Erica Angelo

"I'm back, Mistress," Cassidy called out as she entered the compartment.

Balancing the tray with her mistress's food in one hand, the young maid used her other hand to slide the door behind her closed. She then turned back around and made her way deeper into the unusually large train compartment.

She only almost tripped while carrying the tray to her mistress once.

Unlike Caspian's compartment, which was nice but basic, the one her mistress utilized was the epitome of posh. Cassidy's shoes slid over the soft velvet carpet like slippers gliding along a cloud. The almost crimson color of the carpet contrasted nicely with the varnished mahogany walls, which were inlaid with golden designs; eccentric swirls and arcane-looking symbols of an esoteric language that Cassidy could never hope to understand.

Not only was the decor fit for royalty, it was also quite spacious, easily large enough to house at least three regular-sized compartments within. This one even had a bed for Cassidy's mistress to sleep on and a small cabin attached to the main one, where Cassidy's own bed was located. It explained why this particular compartment took up an entire train car all on its own.

"You took an awfully long time bringing something as simple as a meal to me, maid," Cassidy's mistress said, her voice softer than the velvet carpet they stood on and sweeter than the most highly-prized ambrosia. Cassidy barely managed to withhold her wince.

The person Cassidy called mistress was a woman who appeared to be no older than eighteen, maybe twenty years of age and was, in a word, enchanting.

Like gentle waves as they caressed the shore, her long locks of raven hair descended from her crown and stopped somewhere near her lower back. A long set of bangs covered the upper-left portion of her face, hiding that eye from view. The other eye was visible, however, and anyone who caught sight of the single amethyst orb would find themselves enraptured by the woman's alluring gaze. She was a vision that spoke of lust; a promise of unfathomable pleasure that would come if only someone was willing to take her.

There was a reason she had earned the nickname Succubus.

"M-my apologies, Mistress Erica." Cassidy would have bowed deeply, but didn't because she was carrying her mistress' food and didn't want to spill it all over the floor. Again. Instead, she hurriedly walked over to the woman, nearly tripping over her own two feet in the process, and set the small tray on the fold out table situated in front of her mistress. "There were some... some complications when it came to getting your food, and it took a little bit longer than I expected."

"I don't want to hear your excuses," Erica said, and though her tone was even, it still caused Cassidy to flinch. Not that Erica seemed bothered by this. She appeared as unflappable as always, although she did make it a point to complain about her current lack of talented help. "Ha... if only my Derek hadn't fallen ill from overworking himself, I wouldn't be having to deal with such a sorry excuse for a maid."

Another flinch. Yet at the same time, Cassidy could not stop a small trail of sweat from traveling down her face at her Mistress' words. The only reason Erica's Knight was "ill" as her mistress put it, was because the woman had practically drained him off all his essence.

Very few men could keep pace with the vivacious Sorceress, and her Knight was no exception. There were even rumors about how Erica Angelo went through a Knight every decade because she had so much sex with them they died from exhaustion and dehydration.

Naturally, this was all just rumor and speculation, but Cassidy often wondered if there might be a grain of truth to these rumors.

It was probably best not to ask.