Under Imperial Discipline: Courier to the Tsar - Prologue: Part 3

She snapped her fingers and a portal shimmered into view.

Asteria watched for His reaction, with a smug smile at the corner of her mouth.

His dead body lay spread across a bed of silk.

He studied His corpse with the seasoned eye of someone who had seen this before. Poison, by the look of it. No blood, no sign of force.

The Goblet then, but how? Not Cora, surely?

She waved, and the image grew brighter. He was alive after all, merely snoring, while Cora and Jara pleasured each other.

His cock reacted to the sight.

"You are something else, and that is exactly why I brought you here. An instant ago your mind was on how you died, and now all you can think about is sex. You have lost all your self-discipline."

“Fine,” He said. “If you insist.”

He studied the image again. “Wait, how can I be both here and there?”

Asteria seemed pleased. “This clone is alive.”

He frowned at the portal. "Won’t they notice I’m missing? I can’t feel My bond to them anymore."

She looked back at His sleeping double and smiled. “So long as he keeps breathing, they should not know the difference.”

He kept His eyes on the scene, trying to ignore His consorts. “Let Me guess. That clone carries a trace of the bond and you switched Us the moment I fell asleep.”

Asteria grinned, delighted He had worked it out. “Well done. I love it when you think with your brain instead of your cock. Nothing can replace the pull you have on those bonded to you, and yes, they will feel a slight difference. But your harem will not worry when they find you fast asleep, warm and breathing.”

"You think of everything, don’t you." But His eyes were already focused on His women.

“Of course I do.” She tapped His sternum, then His cock, before grabbing His chin and turning it to look at her. “A trace of the bond was necessary. Without it, even a perfect clone would seem wrong. With it, he pulls at them much as you do. Not enough to bind, only enough to keep them content while you are gone.”

She winked and trailed a finger along His shaft again. "But nothing beats the original."

In frustration, His hand closed around His cock. He hated how she could make it hard with a single touch.

Asteria’s eyes went over His belly, His chest, His shoulders. The amusement in her eyes cooled into something harder.

“Mikael,” she said, trailing a single nail down His chest, slow enough to raise gooseflesh behind it.

“You’re getting soft.” Her voice was almost fond.

“Not here,” she said, and set her palm flat over His belly, “though the gods know you’ve grown a touch indolent.”

“No,” He started.

“Here.” She tapped His temple once.

Irritation flashed through Him.

“You used to step into a new world hungry for the challenge. Lean, quick, curious. Ready to bleed when you had to.” She leaned close to His ear. “Remember?”

“I remember winning,” He said. “I remember delivering every world into your hands.”

“Winning,” she let the word hang there. Her fingers traced the muscle in His arm. “Yes. You always do.” Her eyes stayed on His. “But it’s the way you do it. You waltz in, find the cleverest woman in the room, let her build your little empire while you sit back and spill that seed wherever it’s convenient.” She smiled, almost approving. “Efficient. Elegant.”

“And what is wrong with that?” He held her eyes. “You set me on a hunt. I bring you the prize.”

She didn’t blink. "You’ve forgotten what effort tastes like. You lean on luck and that pretty cock of yours and expect worlds to fall at your feet."

He looked away. “That’s how my luck works.”

“And it has made you lazy.”

She came closer and nipped His earlobe, just hard enough to sting. He felt the pleasure cut through the annoyance.

“I’m tired of watching you grow fat on easy conquests, pet.” The softness faded from her smile. “You’ve become predictable.”

Mikael remained silent.

She stepped back. “I was going to wait until you finished this mission. Truly.”

“You mean it isn’t finished yet?”

“It isn’t. And time takes no notice of your plans.” Her voice cooled. "A window is opening to another world. Small. Tight. Inconvenient. If I don’t send you now, we lose it."

“No,” He said at once. “I am not finished with that world. You said so Yourself.”

He moved to protest. Asteria’s finger settled on His lips.

“Shh,” she said. “This is not a discussion.”

His nostrils flared against her fingertip.

“And you need it,” she added. “A reminder of what it feels like to sweat. To think. To earn something.”

He took her hand from His mouth. “I earn plenty. Every throne I sit on, I sit for you.”

“Not like this,” she said. “You’ll be in another body. You’ll have to work. Really work. You’ll have to learn new tricks.”

He wanted to keep on arguing.

Her expression sharpened. “You’ll work it out. You always do.”

She kissed the corner of His mouth, gentle for a heartbeat, then bit His lower lip.

"And when that world has forced you to think and fight again, you’ll come back to finish this life. You’ll seat your daughter on the Citrine Throne, and her descendants will reshape that empire."

His mind caught up. “Wait. So this mission was about the Citrine Throne all along?”

He got no further. Her finger touched His lips, and the thought stopped there.

“Forget I said that.” Her smile sharpened. “Eyes on me, Mikael.”

He did.

And as He looked into Asteria’s dark blue eyes, His mind veered into a memory that had nothing to do with her words. Sneaking into the Citrine Court to steal His first wife, right under the Empress’s nose. The look on her face…

What was Asteria saying again?

He dragged His attention back. Asteria was smiling.

“Jules Verne’s Michel Strogoff,” she said. “Does the name stir your memory?”

He tried to grasp the thought again…

Asteria brought her hands together in a sharp clap.

A portal opened in the void, its edge glowing with shifting light. He turned despite Himself and saw plains stretching far into the distance.

He let it go. If it mattered, He would remember later.

“Hmm,” He said. “Verne. I read him on Terra. The Erotic Stories of Michel Strogoff. A courier for the Tsar, wasn’t he?” He nodded towards the vista. “The Ruthenian steppes.”

“Is that all you remember?”

He smiled. “Lots of sex, like all of Verne’s stories, if I remember right.”

Asteria’s hand closed around His arm. “Then you will like this one. It is not quite the endless sexual fantasy Verne wrote. Strogoff is real, and so are the stakes.” Her nails bit lightly through cloth and skin. “And you will love this world.”

“And what is the job?” He asked.

She laughed. “Mikael. You know better than to ask that.” Her eyes held His. “I will say only this. The Tsar needs his message delivered. Hold on to that. The rest will happen the way it always does. Havoc is what you do best.”

She smiled. “Because if I tell you what I need, you’ll start trying too hard. And then you’ll ruin it.”

Her voice hardened. “You will not get bored and claim a throne. You leave the Ramanovs alone.”

She waited until He gave her His full attention.

“You will be Strogoff, and you will stay as he is, a courier carrying the Tsar’s despatch. When it’s delivered, he returns to his life untouched.”

Her fingers closed around His throat in a steady, possessive grip. “If you wander, I will pull you out of that world in a heartbeat and put you back in the white room to remind you how real boredom feels.” Her smile sharpened. “I may even forget the key.”

His shoulders tightened. “Fine. Fine. I understand. Be Strogoff. Fuck my way around Russia. Deliver the message.”

She smiled. “Exactly. You do listen when it suits you.”

Her lips brushed His ear, her voice dropping.

“This world’s magic comes from a real mutation in the blood. A twist that sharpened the senses millennia ago. It is magic, although they do not see it that way.”

She licked His ear with the tip of her tongue.

“It will be enough to give you a taste, and your own tricks will still work.”

“When you take Strogoff’s body, you will have full access to those sharpened senses. You will need them the moment you arrive. And you will have his knowledge and his memories when you take over his body.”

“Take his body? What do you mean, how does that even work?”

“Do not fear it,” she said. “You will know what you must, when you must.”

“What becomes of him?”

“He will not trouble you.” Her hand slid from His throat to His chest, nails grazing lightly as she spoke. “He will remember everything you do. He will likely be surprised by some of your choices.” A pause, almost amused. “His mind will settle it on its own. He will get over it.”

She spoke softly, but the command in her voice remained.

“Blend in like a local. Strogoff’s loyalty is to the Tsar and the Russian Empire. Let that guide you.”

Her smile softened into something gentler, almost thoughtful. “Sequere viam.”

“Follow the path. You always make it sound easier than it is.”

“Indeed.” She straightened, her gown glinting violet in the dark. “To begin, I will drop you into a temporary body at the Tsar’s court. You will love it. Consider it a little gift. Once you’re used to your temporary body, go find Strogoff. Touch his hand, and you become him. Simple.”

Her eyes glittered with mischief. “Now bear with me, I am a bit out of practice.” She checked the portal and adjusted its glow. “Let me line you up just right. When you arrive, stay stoic.”

Mikael looked at her. “Stay stoic? What in the worlds does that mean?”

She winked, amused, and shoved Him through the portal. “Off you go, stud. Don’t disappoint me.”