The wall shudders under the impact of Redana's back. A still sticky plate teeters on the edge of the table, kicked once, twice, too many times. It tumbles to the floor and shatters with a porcelain scream. 

Bella's arms are strong. She only needs one, held under Redana's butt, to keep the Princess pinned helplessly aloft. The other is free to clamp her jaw shut, to permit no more than muffled squeaks and other such sounds as can be made without moving one's mouth. Her face is close, forehead to forehead, eye to mismatched eye. Gold peering into blue, green peering into red. Her breath steams against the back of her hand, to wash over Redana's face and neck. Her lips tremble.

"It. Will. [I]Never[/i] be enough, Redana. We will [i]never[/i] be even. Not tomorrow, and not in three hundred years."

Her hand slides down just under the jawline, revealing now-smeared painted lips. These, she silences again with her tongue. Redana's mouth yields eagerly into hers, but she asserts her will anyway, kissing and biting and mauling that royal mouth with her insatiable tongue. She kisses to kill, as though to steal the breath from out of her lungs even as she feels the frantic drumming heartbeat pound against the outside of her chest as strongly as she feels the kicking of those feet against her back and butt. 

She pulls away. The hand rises again to hold Redana's mouth shut against protest. Against argument. Against questioning.

"It can't be fair between us. Even if you lower yourself from princess down to maid, or beneath even that until you're nothing more than my useless, mewling pet," she snarls, and her face betrays how much the image playing in her brain excites her, "...You would still be you. And I would still be me. You don't have enough wishes in you to change what that means. And neither do I."

She kisses her way down the jaw now, and across the neck, marking each new inch of her territory with teeth and a slow, greedy drag of her tongue. Tiny bits of blood and red sores follow wherever she goes. Jingle-jingle goes the bell, singing joy and dancing delight as it's tossed about. 

Bella is covetous. One hand gropes Redana's butt as if a lifetime's worth of yearning could be kneaded out of it in an afternoon, and at the very least she means to try. Her other hand loosens on Redana's mouth, but only so that her fingertips can probe Redana's lips and, when they part before her, slip inside and silence her in entirely new ways. 

"You can't fix this, Redana. You're, nnnffff, not the one who made me."

A wall's as good as a bed, when you need it to be. Bella grabs her 'maid' by the back of the head, but even now she's careful not to pull hard, not to hurt her or mess up the pretty braids her hair's just been twisted into, but only enough to turn her head and make it easier to kiss her again, kiss her again, kiss her again, kiss her and taste the remains of her fingers on the Princess' tongue. Kiss her and know that she is in control. Kiss her and know that everything is just the way she hadn't dared to dream it could be. Kiss her and know that she can have this without giving up the power that let her catch up in the first place.

Claws slide down the satiny top, all the way down to the waist. Where they pass, the fabric sighs and splits, revealing Imperial glory and more territory for Bella to hungrily devour. She lifts her prey higher, higher, high enough to kiss the tops of peaks long denied to her. To feel with her tongue the softest part of Redana's body that no amount of pedigree or training could quite turn to iron. To hear the squeals and gasps and claim them as her prize.

Lower. Lower. Her thigh is steel and she traps Redana on top of it. Unyielding to any amount of desperate, tangled squirming. She pulls the tattered remnants of the maid's top backwards, pinning her arms at the elbows in the fabric, devouring her face, and leaving her with nothing to speak with except her hips. She presses her body forward and pins Redana against the wall, swallowing her strength in pearls and folds of fabric and the flesh that wears the Sea.

And then, and then, and then...? She lets Redana tumble to the floor. They stare at each other, lungs burning, hearts stammering, eyes glimmering with the beauty of life and promise beyond the reaches of the Underworld.

"Nothing is even between us, Redana," Bella's voice is dripping with the pride of an Empress between her hungry gasps, "So when I take you... when I [i]fuck[/i] you... it's because [i]I[/i] want to. No debt. No crown. Just you, and me. Body and heart. Until..."

Until you both forget. Until this adventure carries you past the edge of the universe and washes you both clean. Until she is not a monster, and you are not a princess. Or if these things are stronger than memory, then beyond even that. Until the limits of the gods have at last been found. Until Hades keeps his word, and at long last there will be nothing left except the journey home. And from there, the end of everything.

But for all the time between you and that she will have you, Redana. And she will take you, Redana. And she will show you, Redana. That the girl you thought you loved and the girl you do love are one and the same. That there were never masks and lies between you, but only duty. Jealousy. Anger. And fear. But those? Those you may wash away. And a good maid must always clean where she is needed.

Bella lifts the hem of her dress, and watches with eyes shining in the colors of the throne. Her command is unspoken. But crawl into the ocean and speak without speaking, Redana. While your tongue is singing, you will understand. And it will be some time indeed before there will be an opportunity go anywhere, or to see anything, or to bask in each other's company more softly and somewhere others might be permitted to witness.

But that's just fine, isn't it? There are scales to balance and wrongs to be righted. And wounds will heal whether the path can be seen or not.