ã€ŠWoolgatheringã€‹


 Aemonds Whipping Boy

    I like to think that I had choices in life, but if I dwell on it too hard, I realize that perhaps rather ruefully I had none. I was born in the Targaryen court during the reign of King Vyseris the First. I was told that I was one of his bastards, however my dark features bore no resemblance to the ruling class. Instead, fortunately, or unfortunately as some may state, I took after my mother. She was I confess a beauty in her day, one of the chambermaids of Queen Rhenenyra. Dark of skin, ebony of hair, and possessed of inquisitive eyes of raven¡¯s black.

    Bastard or not she loved me, even after her fall from grace she held me with no ill will. She got me the job of spit boy when I was barely more than a child. I would work in the kitchens, doing as my title suggested, turning the spit so the roast pig was always perfect for a few coppers a week. At least in this employ, I was never cold in winter, and I remained fed. I guess that is what my mother had hoped, her last gift to me. She died later that year of a pestilence that swept the poorer parts of the city, hitting Flea Bottom especially hard.

    I knew what she had resorted to, to survive, after the Queen had banished her from the court. She did well for a time in Flea Bottom, but sadly my hours were long, and I toiled in the kitchens most days and rarely got to visit her. When I did though, she loved to hear of all the castle intrigues. I didn¡¯t have that many to report though, my work as it was rarely afforded me any juicy gossip, and I really didn¡¯t brush shoulders with any of the royalty.

    After Mother died I had no more excuses to leave the Red Keep. For a time as many will I wallowed in melancholy over the loss of her. I had no other siblings to share my grief with, and being male it would have been unseemly to do so. So I applied myself to my work and thought of little else.

    The year passed, and I was one day surprised by the castle Chamberlain. I think all were in the kitchen that day. It was rare a man of his rank would venture here. I could see the staff, each at the pretense of hard work, but all ears ready to catch any juicy gossip. Gossip that could make the rounds of the castle in as little as a couple of hours.

    I bowed deeply before the man. He was portly, dressed in fine velvet in the Targaryen colors, red and black. Featuring embellishments of the red three-headed dragon. Symbol of the King¡¯s rule. He wore a heavy gold chain across his breast, and I remember well his boots, as that is where I cast my eyes. They were black and shining, without a speck of dust nor mud, proof of his high station.

    ¡°Your hard work has been noticed Tanel.¡±

    It was rare to hear my name spoken. I had always just been ''boy.'' Yet I was a boy no longer, I was now a young man. I nodded but did not speak.

    ¡°I have a promotion for you, from today you are to assist the Master of feasts, with the tablecloths and candles.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord Chamberlain.¡±

    And with that pronouncement, I had a new life.

    *****

    I found myself in better quarters, with fancier attire, and the pay was better too. I spent most of my days polishing silver and gold ware, folding tablecloths, and lighting or extinguishing candles. This work appealed to me, it was far more varied than my last employ, and I came into contact with many of the most comely serving maids.

    Life wasn''t so bad. I took great care not to become involved with any court intrigues. Minding my own business, and saving my coin so that I may have a better tomorrow. From time to time I would encounter members of the royal family during my work. My eyes would be respectfully downcast of course. That was if you didn¡¯t count me gazing as much as I could on their royal personages through my lowered eyelashes. We all did it, it was not just me.

    My life remained uncomplicated, and very much pain-free, until that one fateful day we were all preparing a name-day feast for the Prince Aemond. He was a little older than I, and as I often heard very much for expressing himself at court. It was obvious to all that there were tensions between him and his elder sibling the Crown Prince Agon. They were two very different young men. Agon seemed to live for a light-hearted, good time, he didn¡¯t apply himself to the idea that he would be sovereign one day.

    Yet his younger brother Aemond was all business. Serious, sharp, and brutal. I had often wondered if claiming the largest dragon in Westeros had added to his deep-rooted confidence, or was it losing his eye? The way he moved and spoke belied cruelty. None wished to be singled out by him. However it was his name day, and we must do our best to make it perfect, and memorable.

    I remember that day well. I was setting the candlesticks in their places on the long table. I was lost in my thoughts when I felt warm breath on my neck and a voice at my ear.

    ¡°You are wasted here.¡±

    I turned to momentarily look into a singular, intense, pale blue eye, and in horror realizing who had spoken to me I lowered my eyes to the floor. I couldn¡¯t think, and I could barely move.

    The Prince chuckled at my frightened response. His thin lips curved in his trademark cruel smile.

    ¡°If you want to make more gold boy, I have a proposition for you. I will send word.¡±

    *****

    Well life went on, and as the weeks passed I began to relax. Those words were just words after all. I was happy in my current life, simple as it was.

    I was carrying a heavy load of linen to the Laundress, I often did this for the girls. When a well-dressed man passed me in the hallway and slipped me a note. The gesture was subtle. I took it without stopping, but I did turn momentarily to look back at him. He was well dressed, and I felt I recognized him but I could not be certain. One of the inner court perhaps. I felt a feeling of cold wash over me, so far I had been spared involvement in any court scheming and of that I was glad. I could never forget what happened to mother. I determined I would not befall a similar fate. I clutched the slip of paper in my hand and did not look at it until I had deposited my burden, and could find somewhere to read it where I would be unobserved.

    ¡®Meet me in the cellar near the dragons.¡¯ That was all it said. The handwriting was fine, educated, perhaps from the prince himself.

    I was careful to dispose of the note in the flame of a nearby candle. Once all traces of it were gone I made my way to the rendezvous. I didn¡¯t really wish to go I confess. Yet I could not refuse a direct summons without possible reprisal. I knew the castle well. In my childhood, before the idea of station set in, I played with all the other children, nobility and servant alike. We often ran and played in those tunnels beneath the keep. So there was no confusion as to the location of the meeting.

    Fortunately, I didn¡¯t have to make any excuses, as not a soul spoke to me as I made my way to the entrance, to the tunnels outside facing the sea. I had not traversed these in years, as there was no incentive now that I was grown, but as I did so familiar childhood memories flooded back into my mind. This place had remained unchanged a comfort of a sort as I revisited good memories of my youth. Unsure what this day would bring.

    He was there waiting, tall, proud, and athletic, his graceful long fingers rested atop the hilt of his sword in an attitude of easy readiness. His straight trademark Targaryen white hair was tightly bound in a ponytail, perfectly coiffured. I bowed low and cast my dark eyes to the floor. My heart was thumping in my breast, and my hands were clammy. I was not sure if I should speak or not, so I didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Good you came, your name?¡± He asked imperiously.

    ¡°Tanel Basri, your Grace.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Dornish I see.¡±

    ¡°Yes your Grace, my mother was from Dorn.¡± I was glad today that I bore no resemblance to a Targaryan.

    ¡°Your father?¡±

    ¡°I did not know him your Grace.¡±

    Another derisive chuckle that unnerved me. ¡°Well Tanel, I have proposition for you?¡±

    I nodded but still did not look up. I had to admit I was afraid to. The prince had a reputation for cruelty, and I knew it was not unfounded. All I could hope was that I pleased whatever fancy he had, and he would duly move on, and I could return to my duties.

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    ¡°I wish you to be a new member of my chamber staff, you please me.¡±

    It was strange that he would ask me to be a valet in of all places this one. My hair prickled, and I again felt that wave of cold wash over me, and an uncomfortable twisting in my gut. My first instinct was to refuse, but I was too afraid to. It seemed as though finally, I had been caught in the spider¡¯s web.

    I looked up and swallowed hard. He again had that self-satisfied look on his handsome face. They say he wore a priceless sapphire in his empty eye socket, but I had only seen him with his eye patch. I wondered but briefly, if he wore it for others or himself?

    I realized then to my sense of growing fear, that there was King¡¯s Guard stationed at the intersecting corridors. Ensuring this meeting was private. Had I somehow displeased him on his name day? I was frantically searching for reasons that he may have for some displeasure with my performance. I could not think of any.

    ¡°Take off your shirt.¡±

    I looked into that expressionless eye and glimpsed the abyss. I glanced away as though I had been stung. Then I meekly complied. My shirt fell with a flop to the cold flagstones.

    ¡°Good, strong, unblemished,¡± was his comment, as I stood there vulnerable and shirtless before him.

    He clicked his finger, and a guard sallied forth holding a long, black-plaited whip. He handed it to the Prince and departed.

    ¡°I guess it is only fair I explain what I want of you Tanel.¡±

    I felt the butt of the whip poke me in the right shoulder, as he walked behind me, his boots making little sound on the floor. He moved like an accomplished swordsman.

    ¡°You see I have this terrible anger Tanel. Sometimes it needs to be channeled, at least that''s what my mother says. So I have decided to take her advice. That is where you come in.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like where this conversation was going at all. However, there was no way I could see to extract myself. Nothing short of the King¡¯s orders was going to save me from my current situation. So I nodded and let the Prince do as he will.

    ¡°Kneel,¡± he instructed.

    I had little time to regard his boots before he let the first lash fly. My world went dark for a moment, the sudden pain intense beyond measure. The black-coiled serpent wrapped its loving embrace about my shoulders drawing tiny beads of blood.

    I took a deep breath to steady myself. The caress of the next one was already across my back. I closed my eyes and willed myself to silence.

    The third strike wrapped around my lower back and stomach, and a red weal instantly appeared on my coffee-colored flesh. Though the cellar was far from warm, beads of sweat were already forming on my brow.

    ¡°Oh yes,¡± he said, ¡°you will do finely. Consider yourself employed."

    The sting of the lash was fading however I had noticed something very peculiar. I was in fact aroused by what had just happened. I didn¡¯t have any sexual feelings for men. I had always directed my passions toward women, and I had boasted my fair share of the castle maids in my bed. This though was different, and somehow more powerful. Was it because of who he was, or was it something else? I didn¡¯t understand.

    The next thing I knew was the bright sound of a gold coin tossed to the flagstones before me. I didn¡¯t really wish to get up, as I had a raging erection from the beating. I was ashamed and didn¡¯t want him to see.

    ¡°From today you attend me in my rooms.¡± With that he was gone, followed by his retinue of White-cloaks.

    And that is how I became Prince Aemond¡¯s whipping boy.

    *****

    From that day the kitchens, candles, and tablecloths were a thing of my past. I learned to be a valet to the Prince. I wore fine clothes, ate the best food, and got to bathe regularly. The prince had two valets, his elder brother had more, but he was not the heir to the crown. This was of course the junior appointment. Mostly I repaired clothing, maintained his Grace¡¯s armor and uniforms, and polished his boots until they shone, and for a time I lulled myself into a sense of safety, that the Prince would not collect that which he had spoken of. To that end, I worked to be the most indispensable valet ever.

    One gray day, which was unusual in King¡¯s Landing, mostly the climate here was sunny and pleasant. I had been sitting by the window repairing a leather tunic of the Prince¡¯s to see by the best light. I looked up as the Prince stormed in, the other valet had been folding garments and placing them in the ornate chest of drawers, and the page, a boy no more than ten had been sweeping and dusting.

    We all stopped what we were doing. Prince Aemond appeared angered, his usually neat platinum hair was strewn in an unruly fashion about his face. He threw his sword down with a loud metallic clatter.

    ¡°Out! Out, all of you!¡± He shouted in his cruel, commanding voice.

    We all rose and made haste for the door.

    ¡°But not you.¡±

    That cold blue eye was looking right at me. I swear my stomach flipped about sickeningly in my gut, and my mouth went dry.

    ¡°Lose your shirt.¡±

    With that proclamation, I knew that my duty to him was as discussed all those weeks ago in the cellar. I knelt, closed my eyes, and waited. I was expecting the caress of the long whip, but today I felt a loud thud of a riding crop across my upper shoulders. The blow was unexpectedly heavy and winded me. I almost lost my balance and fought to stay upright mastering the pain.

    He hit me again, and I could already feel myself becoming aroused, as this strange feeling took hold of me. The blows were hard, much harder than I had thought they would be. The Prince was not a muscular man, yet he was rangy and strong. I guess one had to be to command a great dragon. He hit me with all he had. I meanwhile, was fighting a war on two fronts. Trying to absorb the Prince¡¯s anger with as much dignity as I could muster, and stifling my burgeoning erection that threatened to erupt at any moment.

    Somehow I maintained control, and after he was done he sat on his bed, bloodied crop still in his back gloved hand. I noted it was dripping blood, my blood, onto the floor, and all I could think about was I needed to clean it up. However, I didn¡¯t move. My back was burning and raw, and I could feel blood seeping from the welts in places where he had split the skin. I sat still while my own desire abated, I wonder if he knew?

    ¡°My last whipping boy had to retire.¡± He said suddenly out of the blue. That one cold eye on me. He was a difficult man to look directly at. I had always thought that he cast a far finer figure as a potential King than his elder brother did. It was a treasonous thought, one I would never give vent to.

    *****

    From that moment I realized my true value to the Prince. As his Father the King weakened, and eventually died, and his elder brother ascended the throne. Chaos gripped the kingdom. Prince Aemond¡¯s moods became ever darker, and I bore the brunt of his pain with whatever object was close at hand. One day after a particular strenuous beating with his Grace¡¯s belt, and he did not spare me the belt buckle. I was torn and bloody. He brought to my attention a red leather-covered box embossed in gold filigree.

    ¡°I had this made especially for you.¡± He said as he opened it. He took the lengthy and sinuous whip out of its case and I shivered. It was extremely thin, almost delicate. I was sure it would deliciously cut when wielded with precision. Just looking at it in his hands as he presented it to me caused my body to respond. He knew too of my secret, perhaps he had sensed my erotic ties to physical pain in me from the first. Even before I had known. The release after such an event was so powerful. More powerful than any a woman could bring. I became in a way a slave to him, desiring his pain even if it slowly disfigured me.

    The whip glinted in the half-light as he ran it over his black leather gloves. I saw it snag for a moment, and the prince withdrew his hand sharply in-taking his breath. It had cut him, and it was then I realized what it was he was trying to demonstrate to me. The whip was inset with sharp pieces of steel. The penultimate masochists fantasy.

    ¡°Let me call the Meister, your Grace,¡± I insisted, breaking the tension in the room.

    *****

    The box sat there unopened for many months. An unspoken treatise between us. As I performed my duties I would constantly find myself looking at it. Imagining a scene between us intense and dark, then having to find an excuse to go and relieve myself of my growing tension.

    *****

    The Prince burned Sharp Point today on Vhagar. None knew why. Perhaps he was just angry, and he destroyed the town because he could? The entire court was abuzz with a multitude of theories. In a terrible fury, Prince Aemond came to his rooms shortly after, and I knew this evening would be memorable.

    My flesh was no longer clean, but riven with a multitude of tiny white scars. Although my task to attend the Prince to the outside observer might seem easy, it was not. Pain, salves, and Meister¡¯s visits were my lot. Yet I bore his pain and inwardly desired it. So I write this ode to you my Prince, my rendition of that night¡­

    I lay face down on the cold flagstone floor, the floor impregnated with my own blood, from events of torture I have endured, both past and present. This day is different though, and marks a turning point in our relationship, as at last, you, my Grace, strive to give to me your servant, the ultimate expression of love.

    The pain is intense I am sick with it, it is so pure and defined, I fight to stay coherent, to stay here in this place. It would be so easy, all too easy to close my eyes and stop, and let the blackness take me, take me away. Now I have reached this pinnacle of my testing, the ultimate expression of love.

    My blood runs in red rivers over my torn flesh and drips sluggishly onto the floor, the cuts are many and deep in places, and I shake as I attempt to control my fear and pain. You have witnessed this many times before and marvel at my resolve and self-control. But this day is different as you have at last applied at my insistent behest, the ultimate expression of love.

    Only a few minutes before, when I had been healthy and whole, you, my Grace had shown it to me, the whip of my heart¡¯s desire, as you had on many occasions before. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and unbeknownst to me in my morbid fascination your hands shook as you opened the box for me to sight its magnificence, as you prepared yourself to administer, despite your misgivings the ultimate expression of love.

    I had looked on it long and lovingly, coiled like a deadly serpent, filled with shining promise of doom, you, my Prince almost seemed not to exist, as my eyes caressed, and my flesh prepared to taste after what had seemed an eternity, the ultimate expression of love.

    You did not chain me this time, you did not flinch, as you took the deadly razor-whip from its box, knowing what it might cost, knowing we may never be the same. As you willed the spirit of the Seven to possess you and grant you the true desire, and the strength to inflict on me your servant, the ultimate expression of love.

    The much longed-for event, was over in just minutes, minutes of pure ecstatic pleasure and agony entwined, as the blades tore my flesh cutting deep, tearing at our souls, scarring us both forever. I collapsed to the cool of the floor, a relief in stark contrast to the heat of my pain, in my mind the only thought was, can I survive the test. The test you have crafted.

    You throw the whip from you savagely, seeing its damage, harshly to the floor. In your mind, the only thought is, can you survive what it is you have done to your trusting and loving servant. This for us both, the ultimate expression of love.

    The urge towards love, pushed to its limit, is an urge towards death.

    I am forever yours Tanel.

 Bold Mary

    I Mary June Larkin, a humble serving girl, had always been instructed not to look up, never to meet his eyes. I was to be unobtrusive at all times, like part of the furniture here. Two nights ago I defied my training, I was unsure why, but I met his eyes. Eyes of the coldest blue, perhaps they could have been warm before his lady¡¯s regrettable passing. However, I knew what they all said about him, he was Lo¡¯gosh the Wolf, a gladiator, a hard man who didn¡¯t compromise. I was, I confess captivated, and he too looked back at me. He didn¡¯t smile, nor did he draw attention to the fact, that I a simple servant, held his gaze for long moments as I poured his wine.

    Anne, my fellow serving maid, had noticed though, and she chatted me incessantly about it afterward in the scullery, telling me how improper it was. Warning me not to be so inappropriate again in the King¡¯s presence, or she would have to inform the housekeeper.

    I didn¡¯t want to lose my job, to be penniless in the streets of Stormwind, or even worse, to be forced to sell my young body at the Lion¡¯s Pride Inn, like many a fallen woman must resort to. I had a roof over my head, and steady employment, even if the days were long, and the pay was meager. I was determined that snitching Anne would not see me the next time our eyes met.

    As a castle servant to the King, I had little time to myself. I woke at dawn, and worked hard all day at my duties under the direction of the housekeeper, often late into the night, especially if the King or the young Prince was entertaining.

    Then I would don my wool nightgown, climb into my narrow straw-filled bed, and imagine him. My fingers would stray down below, or pinch my raised nipples to distraction. I would bite my lower lip, as I imagined him there, a resolute bull of a man standing over me, in all his Royal grandeur. My fingers would seek my warm slippery wetness, as I imagined him before me, breaking down the walls to my citadel of innocence.

    So it was with shock and surprise that I discovered a note pushed beneath my door the next morning. The cream paper was heavy, and it was sealed with a wax seal, the King¡¯s lion head seal. My fingers trembled, and my heart raced. A missive from the King to me, plain Mary a simple serving maid? This must be a ruse to trick me.

    I cursed Anne, but I was intrigued.

    ¡°Meet me,¡± it said, in beautiful cursive. ¡°In my chambers tonight. The guards will admit you.¡±

    Was it really from him, or was it a trick? How can I know unless I accept...

    I was at his grand door in the dark, I was in fact sweating under my gray homespun wool cape. The heavy garment was still too warm for this time of year, especially whilst taking exercise, but it kept me dry, for it had rained all day.

    The lion-headed door knocker made a great booming sound, his royal guards clad in their blue and argent uniforms stared ahead unseeing. I guess he had written the note after all.

    I stood in the ensuing vacuum of quiet waiting, listening. Butterflies in my stomach, and a hard ball of tension in the back of my throat. Only silence and dark to greet me, nervous breaths. Oh let him be here. My eyes scanned beneath the heavy wooden door, for any trace of light. Nothing, just the darkness and quietude.

    I knocked again, this time more earnestly using both hands. I stood close to the door pressing my ear to the wood, I still could detect no movement from within. I almost fell inward as the door opened unexpectedly, the interior of this stately castle hall black as a bear¡¯s sanctuary.

    It was him, his Majesty, he was barefoot, topless, magnificent. His right shoulder was bound in bandages, from a recent injury in the tiltyard, and his right arm in a sling. His deep chocolate hair was loose, cascading in abundance over his broad shoulders, its full length well down his back to his waist.

    I had never seen my ruler in such a state of undress, a primal savage, more the Lo¡¯gosh the Wolf, than the King of Stormwind. I went to my knees almost, in a deep curtsy, I was shaking. It was one thing to serve at the King¡¯s table, but this very private ¡®audience¡¯ was quite another. I still could not believe it was happening.

    He smiled at me in the half-dark, his ice-chip eyes didn¡¯t smile though, but the laugh lines around them did. Perhaps he did laugh more once? I mused.

    ¡°Welcome¡­¡± He said, as he held out his strong, large, hand, expecting mine.

    I then clumsily registered he was searching for me to introduce myself. I replied most awkwardly, looking as stunned as a deer in the torchlight, as I placed my tiny fingers in his.

    ¡°Mary... your Majesty, Mary June Larkin.¡±

    ¡°Bold Mary,¡± he said, more to himself than I. He sounded amused. I wondered then, did he invite other maids who worked in the castle to his chambers too?

    He took my hand and escorted me up the long hallway. His grip was firm. I could see just remotely, the warm light of candles burning somewhere up ahead. Moonlight shone in to bathe the flagstones, and the blue and gold carpet runners in silver, from the smiling face of Elune. Did she smile down on me tonight, I hoped so?

    We passed beneath richly colored, oil-painted portraits, and luxuriant tapestries, featuring conquests and proud bejeweled depictions of great family lines. My eyes came to rest on her, Queen Tiffin Ellerian Wrynn, as she sat memorized in paint, looking wistfully down at me. Her gold spun hair coiffured to excellence, and her pretty fingers draped over one another, replete with rings of gold and precious gems. Her pale blue eyes regarded me even from death. It was quite plain to see her only son Prince Anduin was an image of her.

    I felt the King¡¯s hand on the back of my cape as I gawked at her in my guilt. The lit room now looming ahead of us, the King¡¯s private chambers. I had little cause to venture there in my service, it was a place for valets, and the King''s closest men and family.

    He closed the door behind us and put his arm behind my back. I wondered where the house staff were, but the silence would not be broken by any questions I had. This was not his bed chamber I realized, but rather a quiet sitting room. A carved, lion-clawed, wooden table was laden with a selection of fine cheeses, fruits, nuts, olives, and a blood-red carafe of wine crowned its center.

    I felt his hand leave the small of my back, as he made his way confidently toward the table and its offerings.

    ¡°You were bold the other evening Mary.¡± He said casually, swaggering toward the table, and poured two goblets of wine.

    I may have been, but tonight the boldness had left me. I found it difficult to meet his piercing eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite an unusual trait for one of my house staff, and such a young one at that. How old are you, girl.¡±

    ¡°Err...Your Majesty, twenty Sir.¡± I struggled to get a grip on my uncooperative voice, so close to the most eligible, and powerful man in the kingdom.

    He smiled at my hesitation, as he presented me with the goblet of wine. Turning from me to pick at the spread set before him on the table, and taking up his own goblet. My eyes strayed to the rich, red vintage in the golden cup, its sides encrusted in gems. Any of which would have purchased my family a cozy home.

    ¡°To boldness.¡± The King made a toast.

    I clumsily complied, immediately raising my glass, and almost spilling my wine in my nervousness. What had I been thinking that night past? Was I simply here, so he could address me for my impudence. I was really beginning to wonder.

    ¡°So, Bold Mary.¡±

    It seemed that was now my official nickname.

    ¡°Tell me more about this girl who dared to meet the eyes of her King.¡±

    Oh he had put me on the spot, what was there to say that would not bore him? I was a nobody, with five younger sisters and an infant brother that we had buried last winter. My Father lost himself in his cups at every opportunity, and my Mother did laundry, often rubbing her poor hands raw with her endless work. I looked at him and didn¡¯t rightly know what to say.

    He sighed, and chuckled, a small sardonic laugh. His face creased in mirth as he gazed at me with his captivating stare. I needed to say something anything, he was expecting it.

    ¡°Well, your Majesty¡­¡±

    He cut me off. ¡°In these chambers Mary¡¯ it¡¯s Varian.¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    My head swam. I had gone from a maid who was instructed never to look directly at the man, to a first-name basis.

    ¡°Um, well, yes, Sir, Varian.¡± Without the inclusion of the sir, I do not think I could have addressed him as he wished, I hoped he did not mind.

    I continued timorously. ¡°My family lives in Westfall, but with the refugees and the famine, my parents sent me to try and gain employment at the castle. I send my wages home so my siblings and my parents can live a better life.¡±

    ¡°Hum,¡± he replied, drinking from his goblet. He seemed very interested, far more curious than he appeared at the endless audiences and feasts he attended. ¡°Most honorable, Mary.¡±

    He caught me then in his animal gaze and I froze. My knuckles were white clutching at my wine cup. He walked boldly towards me, it felt wrong to see my ruler in this state of undress, but somewhat wanton as well. He stood tall above me, and I looked up into his fierceness. I knew without a doubt, what he wanted from me, but I was lost, a maiden still. I had not the practice nor wiles to truly pleasure a man, all I could offer my Sire was fumbling inexperience. Did he know, is that why he had selected me?

    His muscular body was heated against mine, and I fought my overwhelming desire to touch his livid scars.

    ¡°Come,¡± he said, ¡°sit with me, and finish your wine.¡±

    Far away I heard the town clock strike the hour of one.

    We sat on the fine, blue, chaise, and he poured himself more wine, offering more to me. I politely declined, it would not do to be completely beyond control. The situation I found myself in was overwhelming as it was.

    Before I knew it, his hand was in my hair, the golden, straight locks of it sliding through his fingers. He had a small hint of a smile, drawn on his hard mouth.

    ¡°You looked like her before we had our son. Your hair, your eyes, your pretty, clear pink skin.¡±

    He could only be speaking of Queen Tiffin. I suppose I did, if I wanted to dwell on it I could see the resemblance we shared at least in a passing manner. My mind was racing, so many assorted thoughts jammed into my head, all fighting for attention at once. He had chosen me, yes me, above all others. There were many pretty girls here who could have passed for his late wife, many more deserving of his attention than I.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to be a King,¡± he said. ¡°I may be surrounded by wealth and luxury, but mostly I am alone. Made a stranger to all by my station, an untouchable thing, a God almost.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to say. I had not expected such a strong man to reveal so much of himself to me a lowly maid. So I merely sipped on my wine and listened. While he continued to play idly with my hair.

    I should grasp this rare chance, was my first thought, perhaps he would gift me a bauble, one of such significance that it could feed my family for the year to come?

    Then I wondered, perhaps he would marry me, and I would become the new Queen to sit by his side and bear him a line of Royal children.

    However, I threw that idea out almost as soon as it entered my mind. He wasn''t free to marry a common serving girl, she would have to have a pedigree, so I returned to my bauble idea. Mercenary I know.

    He drew his ruggedly handsome face close to mine and regarded me closely. I blinked and did my best not to look away, or lean disrespectfully backward, as he suddenly invaded my personal space.

    ¡°You dared to see me the other evening Mary, something a King rarely feels.¡±

    His deep voice was edged with palpable emotion and earnest meaning. I guess my rather ill-thought-out, flirtatious action, had appealed to him, but surely there were many beautiful Ladies at his court who would have done the same? I was, I confess lost and confused. Perhaps it was my slight resemblance to ¡®Her¡¯ that had triggered him?

    He smiled, as he gazed into my eyes, he was an arresting man. I guess he was right, he may be powerful, but he was isolated. Never free to be himself with anyone. Especially not since the tragic death of his wife.

    I nervously licked my lips and bit my lower one. This was my gambit, and I had to hope that it would be a success. His magnificent Royal personage was still so very close to me. I could feel his wine-laden breath lightly tickling my skin. I had no real idea how to flirt, or of the finer art of seduction, however, I decided I would give my feminine wiles free rein.

    I raised my hand and traced the lines of the scars on his face with the softest touches of my fingertips. They ran deep, and I wondered if they still hurt or if perhaps they merely tingled. I felt his pain, I bathed in his his pride. I do not think I have ever felt such electricity and chemistry as I did that evening.

    Not a sound, nor word, breaks the intensity between us.

    He put down his goblet, and I surrendered mine, just like I was about to surrender my maidenhood. He escorted me upstairs via the spiral staircase made of marble, to his scarlet bedroom. I had I confess always dreamed it to be blue, those were the colors of his reign after all. This a place of dripping gold, fine crystal, and sumptuous velvet.

    Slowly, and with difficulty using his one good hand, he peeled the layers of clothing from my body. First, the wool cape dropped heavily to the floor, followed by the laced bodice of my dress, which he fumbled with resolutely.

    The white petticoats then fell about my knees, as did my stockings, and the confining corset came away last. Leaving me as the gods had made me. His bright blue eyes sparkled demonically in the half-light, as he appraised what he had just unwrapped.

    It was a dream, just like the many dreams that had invaded my nights since I had entered his employ.

    His fingers traced and caressed my expectant lips. My own hands had now sought his strong shoulders, to linger there under the softness and warmth of his unbound hair. My breath came in small gasps at the light touch of his fingers. He kissed me then, and I fiercely responded, his tongue invading my mouth.

    If I had anything to say, the words were long gone as my mind froze under his onslaught. He ran his fingers through my now unbound hair, they snagged in it, he pulled my head back painfully, and unexpectedly, he was biting at my newly exposed throat. I arched my back as he held me upright, one of my legs drawn up in the involuntary rush of pleasure. Already I felt the first telltale glistening of wetness rise between my thighs.

    I let him do as he pleased, to acquaint himself with my newness. Oh, how I had fantasized endlessly of his man¡¯s animal unpredictability in my small room at night. I melted beneath his onslaught. He looked me in the eye then, through the dark fringe of his rampant mane, appearing all the victorious ravager, not the staid and responsible King. The sad widower who must show restraint.

    I dwelt on his time as a slave in the arena, forced to fight or die. The perils he faced that I could not imagine, and I, a gift to him as a prize to be used by him that night. He was on me, over me, bearing me to his high ornate bed. He is conquering magnificence.

    Swift surrender, acute weakness. I sank against him forgetting who he was, my Regent, and the most powerful man in the Eastern Kingdoms. Rutting like a scullery maid with the blacksmith¡¯s boy, as the attraction we shared took effect. Lust, the great leveler.

    His teeth and tongue were almost immediately at my throat and breasts. He was tasting my skin whispering indecipherable words. Those I could no longer heed as I swam in a sea of molten desire. Sinking under the cloud of fast-rushing ecstasy, shivering beneath the pinpricks of his orgasmic touch.

    The chemical rush was heady and swollen with danger. I was a blind automaton whose only wish was to respond and receive. I gave to him, I forgot all he had ever been, and all I was. He and I were one. I clutched him to me, he was biting me rabidly seeking my offered pleasure, it wasn¡¯t so difficult to let go, to give over my all to him.

    I called his name as I felt him enter me, and I think he enjoyed hearing it instead of this title. His thickness and my newness added to the pain and the sensation. I moaned fullness, tightness coupled with explosive need. I clutched him with nails that tore, he hesitated and reciprocated with a dire hunger. Heaviness pressing downward, crushing me. I gasped, I cried, I tore at his flesh, I forgot all, and so did he.

    He turned me over into the rumpled bedclothes, they were as a field of the sweetest roses garnered with bloody thorns. He was on his knees pulling me to him, my thighs spread wide. I felt the wetness of his saliva on his fingers, his most minor consent to my comfort as he prepared to enter my behind.

    Somewhere in the deep annals of my mind I registered dimly he was doing this for his own preservation. The King could not afford the possibility of a string of royal bastards. However, I didn¡¯t contemplate this for too long as his good hand was already toying with my sensitive right nipple, eliciting yet more moans of pleasure from my lips.

    Again extreme tightness, much tighter than before. I moaned I cried, I pressed into him, wanting yet retreating from his hurt, his hands aggressively wrenching me toward him. A scream, his hand over my mouth, was it mine? Penetrating, tearing, sensation, a gasp, and at the same moment pure wanton ecstasy. I had never expected this to feel this way. Lost were my inhibitions, my morals, my cares. Yes Mary, you are as bad as he, as wicked as he, you hide yourself behind your pretense of good and light. You are not honest, you lie, this is what you truly are. His voice or mine?

    Rending hurt, his animal grunts, my raining tears, and more unparalleled ecstasy. He did not relent, hard body slick with sweat, a rain of bites on my shoulders and back, the smell of freshly drawn blood, his hot saliva dripping on my skin as he covered me. The demon of my nights, my possessor, my match.

    With an almighty shove, and his good hand clutching at my breast so tightly it felt like it would rupture he moaned. I could feel his hot seed spilling deep inside of me. I had served my King in a way I had never expected.

    *****

    I woke late in his bed entwined in his arms. The walls were rich red like blood. All was as it should be, I was in his world. A world I could understand, a world full of nothing but the basics. Where I could just be me, Mary, the uncomplicated. I didn¡¯t need things in this world, I didn¡¯t have to go places, I didn¡¯t need to be thrust at new people I feared. Varian was the sum of all I wanted, and all I wanted to be.

    He was still asleep, lying on his back. His abundant, wild brown hair was all about him on the red velvet coverlet. I found my hand wandering to his uncut maleness, followed by my lips, his impressive staff was hard in moments under my touch. His libido was seemingly so soon restored.

    I was more confident than I had been with him last evening, he had awoken something nameless in me, a hot desire, a reckless need. Could I ever go back to being just Mary the serving maid? I was afraid of my answer.

    I straddled his hard belly and sat on him, I found he hurt a little after the hard use of last night. Today though I was very aroused, this was taboo, yet I was here in this forbidden man¡¯s bed, a lowly serving maid. I would enjoy this time, at least until he decided, for whatever political reasons he no longer had use of me.

    He woke with a smile on his face, as I rode him to fruition. Yes, I was Mary the Bold.

 Bold Mary the Ride Part 2

    Life went on as usual after my dalliance with the King. At least that¡¯s what I told myself. I served at his table, worked long hours, lived quietly in my modest quarters, and wondered if he would ever call on me again? I was after all in a state of shock for a few days afterward. Moving through my assigned tasks without ever being in the moment. This often caused me to be scolded by the housekeeper and the other maids. I found this unpleasant, for I had never liked confrontation however small. I did my best, and yet he filled my sleep, and my waking daydreams, this man larger than life. The most powerful man in the kingdom.

    What had happened to me didn¡¯t really sink in until payday. I stood in line with all the other house staff waiting to receive my monthly stipend. The housemistress was a rather controlling woman, that we simply addressed as Mrs Miller. She was very formal, though I did know her first name was Katherine, but none of us underlings dared call her that. She was thin, with straight dark brown hair drawn back in a tight bun, her face constantly pinched in an expression of a scowl of disgust, or perhaps disapproval. She was difficult to please, something we all labored to do.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be right.¡± I heard her say as I approached her for my payment. She again took up the pay list on her desk and squinted at the parchment that lay there. I was sure her eyes were bad, she seemed to endlessly peer at the dark inked figures that were listed there. I could see my name clearly written in black ink even from this distance. ¡°I will have to speak with the paymaster,¡± she finally announced looking confused and flustered, and I was turned away empty-handed. I sighed and hoped my parents would be able to survive until this issue was resolved.

    Later that evening I was preparing to make my way to my room when Mrs Miller met me in the hallway. It had been a long and arduous day, and I hoped she had not stopped me for yet another of her lectures. I had ensured all my tasks were complete, and organized for my early rising tomorrow, and on seeing her there I once again ran my mental checklist of everything she had asked me to do before retiring. I could not think of a single task I had neglected.

    The shadows were long and dark, as the candles and lamps were used far more sparingly in the servant¡¯s quarters than they were in the main palace. ¡°Mary, your pay issue has been dealt with.¡± That was all she said to me as she begrudgingly placed the heavy gold coins in my hand. I looked down, frozen, at the currency weighty in my palm, and then back at Mrs Miller as she gave me a look of scathing disapproval. Happily, she didn¡¯t say anything else but turned and departed down the darkened hallway. I stood there quietly alone, again listening to the loud beating of my own heart.

    I usually earned ten silver coins a month. I sent eight home to my struggling family in Westfall and judiciously saved two. Three gold coins lay there, warm and heavy in my hand. A total sum of three hundred silver coins, well over a year''s wages! I had always tried to better myself, I could do simple math and read unlike many of the servants here. With a start, I realized if I had not been able to read the King¡¯s note...This unusual circumstance may never have been...

    Dwelling heavily on the merit of self-education I slowly meandered down the half-dark corridor to my room. It was located in the lower part of the castle, as were many of the servant¡¯s quarters. I was lucky though, mine had a pleasant if rather small window, just above garden height, where if I looked out I could see the flowers, and herbs swaying in the flowerbeds beyond.

    I stared out of this window as I bounced the coins in my hand. They made a pleasing clink as I did so. I wanted to share my newfound fortune with my family, it was after all my first reaction. However, I realized, how would I explain my sudden acquisition of these riches? I had not even worked here for one year. It was not like I could even have feigned saving this amount of coin in such a short time. An admission that I possessed three gold, could easily see me branded as a thief. The more I thought about my situation the smarter it seemed to tell no one, at least not yet. Sighing at the complexity of my lot I secreted it away in the battered tin, along with my silver savings.

    I slept fitfully still dreaming of him, wondering if I would ever see him again? Then admonishing myself for my foolishness. Of course not. I was a serving maid, and I should never have looked at him so boldly in the first place!

    *****

    Life in the underbelly of the palace, beyond my clandestine interlude with the King, became difficult. It was not long before all the palace staff that I worked with were mired in gossip about me. They acted differently around me than they had before. They didn¡¯t meet my eyes, and I often caught them whispering my name in hushed voices. I had never been particularly close to anyone that I worked with. Coming from the desperation of Westfall I was a complete stranger in His Majesty''s service. I had felt that I was at least accepted by the other serving girls, except perhaps Anne. She for whatever reason had never taken a liking to me, and after a time the feeling was mutual. We still had to work side by side, but much went unsaid between us.

    I was uncomfortable and very isolated. It was the loneliest I had ever been, and I began to rue answering the King¡¯s late-night request. It seemed that now I was an outcast and the subject of lewd ridicule. Part of me dearly longed to return home, but I knew it was not a possibility. I was the only one keeping my family fed, a responsibility that hung heavy on my young shoulders.

    However, all were not terrible toward me, and one man in particular was a blessing. Jerome the lead stable boy, whom I had become increasingly fond of. He was a year or two older than me. I had I confess liked him from the first. He had honest brown eyes that always smiled, a thick and unruly mop of sandy blond hair, and an easy way about him. Which put him in good stead as he handled the King¡¯s flighty war horses. Jerome was very young to be placed in such an important post. Further proof to me that he was responsible and kind. We had done nothing untoward; however, I had begun to let him know in no uncertain fashion that I was interested. He was accessible, very pleasing visually, and pleasant to be around. I was sure my family would be thrilled with such a match if it was to eventuate.

    The other serving girls never volunteered to make the long walk to the stables. They complained it was far, that their shoes got ruined in the mud, and that the horses smelled. Though I didn¡¯t mind, I loved the stables and the noble animals housed there. Jerome would often give me a tour as I presented him and the other stable hands with their lunches. I would walk along the stalls gazing, and if I could attempt to pet the soft noses of the horses housed within.

    Some were friendly but others were aloof. I wanted to stroke them all and hoped in time I could persuade even the shiest ones to trust me. I had always loved horses. Father had one of his own, he was a big heavy bay horse with a white blaze, white socks, and a flowing black mane and tail. He had told me that he was a retired war horse, his name was Mack. He pulled the plow that tilled the corn patch, and the family rode him everywhere.

    I needed to return before Mrs Miller found yet another reason to admonish me. There was a lot of silver that needed to be polished and I particularly hated the task, but I know her displeasure at my absence would in all likelihood see me set this very duty before sunset. However, the stables drew me and I always procrastinated my leaving. I looked down and noticed the hem of my dress was soiled and wet, and the toes of my shoes were as well. I would have to try to spot-clean them later. It was a nuisance, but the stable visits were worth the extra work.

    I was about to leave when I looked over into the end stall and noticed the most beautiful horse I had ever laid eyes on. He was a deep dark charcoal gray, as to almost appear black. He was large, some eighteen hands in height with a long lovely mane and forelock that covered his eyes and almost reached to his velvety nose. His tail flowed in wavy rivulets to brush the floor. I could not resist making one last friend, that damnable silverware could wait.

    I tentatively put my hand in between the polished brass uprights. Hoping to beckon him over. The majestic horse¡¯s head shot up, and his ears pricked forward. He blew a loud puff of air from his nostrils and I was ill-prepared for his sudden exuberant forward charge in such a tight space, as he shot toward my outstretched hand. I pulled back in fright and almost fell ingloriously, and if it were not for Jerome who was standing right behind to catch my fall, I would have slipped painfully backward on the damp flagstones.

    I looked down to see the young man¡¯s arms and his strong hands resting on the ever-so-slight curve of my belly, his strong fingers entangled in the folds of my crumpled dress. They were only there momentarily though, as I regained my feet and my decorum, as I brushed down my dress and turned, heat rising in my cheeks to face the young man who had saved me.

    ¡°That is Wraith.¡± Jerome announced, looking almost as flustered as I felt. ¡°He can be a little exuberant when he sees a new face. I¡¯m sorry, I should have warned you. Wraith is one of the most important horses here in the stable. He¡¯s the King¡¯s primary warhorse, used in ceremony and in battle.¡± I nodded, still fighting to compose myself, though I did find Jerome''s concern and brief embrace more than enjoyable.

    ¡°He¡¯s stunning,¡± was all I could bring myself to reply with as I turned to leave. The episode had left me rather flustered and somewhat breathless. However, I made sure to leave Jerome with one of my prettiest smiles and promised I would continue to deliver the daily lunches without fail. Jerome seemed pleased as was I.

    *****

    Jerome and his equine charges were the bright spot in my days, but the King still ruled my nights. I lay in my cot and often revisited the singular night of wanton passion I had experienced at his expert hands. <i>Why had I so easily surrendered myself, and walked into the veritable Lion of Stormwind¡¯s den?</i> However, there was no undoing my bold notion. All I could do was continue on.

    I served him and his son nightly at his table, however he never did once glance at me. It seemed as though I had returned to have no more importance than a piece of furniture. I wondered how a man could do that. Share something so intimate and real, tell me of his troubles and deepest thoughts, and then treat me as though I did not exist? If I had been a finer lady I would have been angered, but as a serving maid what could I have expected? This was the reality of a girl like myself, I must accept it and move on. Kings didn¡¯t tarry with women like me, small folk. I would instead have to work harder for Jerome''s affections. Marrying the stable boy would be my goal.

    In the weeks that followed, as the summer turned to crisp fall color, splashes of orange and cadmium burgeoned amongst the pervading yellows and warm ochres. I did my best to let Jerome know of my interest, but I still received no more than the most cordial politeness from him. His reaction to my overtures was maddening. Perhaps he already had a special someone? Though I never saw any evidence to suggest there was, and I was not forward enough to ask. Of more concern to me, did he not wish to engage with me because of all the palace gossip? Now that I could understand, as mysteriously I received another three gold coins in my next stipend. Proof to me that perhaps His Majesty had not finished with me after all?

    The endless silverware I polished and shone until my fingers were rubbed red and raw. I had begun in recent days to find this task rather cathartic. I didn¡¯t have to think, and best of all if I volunteered I didn¡¯t have to serve Him. Anything at the moment to be away from the inner palace workings. I wanted my mind to rest, to untangle myself from what I had so casually done. It was madness that evening, and if I could have done it all over, I would not have now that I had had the time to think.

    I sent my eight silver home regularly, and received missives from my sister Emily on occasion, as she was the only one besides myself in our family that could fluently read and write. She wrote that the family was doing well, and the extra silver had meant all my siblings had new shoes and warm blankets this year. Our conversations often strayed to the subject of love. Of course, she often asked me if I had found a suitor, one of the most pervading reasons that daughters were sent to work in the palace. I of course told her though I fancied one of the stable boys, nothing concrete had come my way as yet. I had let another maid Paula fill in for me to serve the King and the Prince, perhaps my absence would mean I could put my heady erotic adventure behind me?

    My trips to the stables were daily, and with time, even though I was told by all the stable hands it was a remote possibility, Wraith became my friend. Even if Jerome looked at me with lustful eyes but never took the extra step toward sullying my ¡®virtue.¡¯ I would often linger by Wraith¡¯s stall, and when no one was looking I would give him a treat I had smuggled from the kitchen. One of the misshapen, sweet honey buns that were not fit for the King¡¯s table, but the ones the servants enjoyed piping hot and delicious from the oven.

    It was one such day when I was sneaking Wraith his treat, that I was suddenly interrupted. A swift movement and a flash of bright blue caught out of the corner of my eye. I was about to snatch my hand away from Wraith¡¯s velvety muzzle, I was not supposed to be feeding the King¡¯s prized horse of that I was certain. I turned suddenly, almost off balance, surprised, and my breath hitched in my throat. It was His Majesty. I had no time to retreat unnoticed. I was unfortunately caught in the spotlight of his arresting azure-eyed gaze.

    I froze like a cornered criminal. All I could do to keep my composure was curtsy deeply. The remnants of the sticky honey roll still clasped between my fingers, with Wraith nickering softly behind me for more. We were both complicit in the act. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as my eyes were firmly anchored on the cracks in the flagstones, and His Majesty''s highly polished riding boots that were now before me.

    ¡°Ah Mary.¡± His voice held tones of playfulness embedded with authority.

    So he remembered me. Of course, he had. I mentally accosted. He still sent me a regular three gold pieces every month after all. All this was running through my head, but all I found the voice to reply with was, ¡°Your Majesty.¡± The unwelcome stickiness of honey on my fidgeting fingers, and I felt indescribably foolish. I could not look him in the eye, but I did take in that he was dressed to ride. His clothing today was both serviceable and plain. Dark brown leather breeches that hugged his well-muscled thighs, hid nothing of his finely muscled and powerful contours, instead where the leather stretched tightly it emphasized them all the more. My eyes strayed to his crotch, and that was emphasized as well. I shouldn¡¯t have, and my face reddened all the worse for doing so. I dare not look up, but to not do so was rude.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said, ¡°what happened to my bold Mary?¡±

    He was so familiar with me that I was even more embarrassed. He after all was not alone, there were other guardsmen present, though they had hung back to grant him some modicum of privacy. Fortunately, he didn¡¯t leave me with time to contrive a suitable answer, for I had none. I felt as though my words had gone to dust in my mouth.

    ¡°I see you have befriended my Wraith, he¡¯s very particular you know. I see he has a soft spot for honey.¡± He chuckled, but there was no malice in it.

    ¡°Yes, your Majesty.¡± I dared reply. Trying my best to meet his gaze and control the fright in my voice, but constantly snatching my eyes from his, looking desperately about for something less innocuous to rest them on. Anything to try and calm my frayed nerves. I really needed to get back to the kitchens, Mrs Miller would be most angry at my delay.

    ¡°Do you ride?¡± He inquired in a gentle but deeply resonant voice, a tone that made me melt.

    ¡°I...I,¡± my mouth was opening and closing like a fish pulled from the pond, and I did not feel dissimilar. All this air and yet I could not breathe in his presence. ¡°Yes,¡± I finally managed to choke out, and my face reddened even further at how stupid I must now look to him. Yet he did not laugh, but moved a little closer, and a genuine happy smile played across his lips, lighting up his scarred visage.

    ¡°Then you must ride with me.¡±

    I smiled evasively and nodded. Thinking that he meant maybe at some other moment.

    ¡°Boy, get the lady a suitable saddle, and Frederick go to the kitchens and tell the House Mistress that Mary will be suitably indisposed for the remainder of the afternoon. Men, I will be riding alone.¡±

    With their Ruler¡¯s words, there was a flurry of action as the men who had accompanied him departed for their posts, and Jerome scrambled to the tack room to find suitable riding trappings. For a few minutes, it was just he and I standing before Wraith¡¯s stall.

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    ¡°You know Mary you really should let Wraith have the rest of that?¡± The smirk on his face was both winsome and priceless. I looked at the remainder of the bun, still sticky on my fingers, and nodded. Turning, still red-faced from my King to present the patient stallion with the remainder of his treat. He took it ever so gently and ate it. Nuzzling at my fingers for more.

    ¡°As you two have forged such a friendship, you may ride him today.¡±

    ¡°Oh Sire... I couldn¡­¡± My tongue fought to say the few simple words and failed miserably. This was an honor I was not worthy to receive.

    ¡°I insist.¡± He was still smiling. King Varian¡¯s scarred face and fierce blue eyes looked so forbidding, yet his smile and voice were kind. He was the same age as my father, and he towered over me. ¡°Wraith will be a complete gentleman,¡± he reassured.

    I was rescued from awkwardness as Jerome and another stable hand Tom returned to prepare the mounts.

    ¡°I will take Valkyrie today.¡± The King instructed.

    With my frequent attendance here I knew immediately who Valkyrie was. She was easily the loveliest mare I had ever beheld. She shone as white as fresh snowfall and glowed in the evenings like a lover¡¯s full moon. Her eyes were a rare glacier blue. She was if I could believe what I had been told the late Queen Tiffin¡¯s mount. I was often guilty of admiring this mare when I wandered the area in the evening, after my concluding my long day¡¯s work. I knew also she was pastured outside until recently with her foal, which had now been just weaned.

    The stable hands set about preparing the horses for today¡¯s ride. While My King made polite conversation. I wanted to feel at ease in his presence but found I could not. I was not a Lady of the court. I didn¡¯t even know how I should properly behave. Was I supposed to reply, or merely listen? As I stared down at my dull dress, its hem stained from my frequent traipsing this path to and from the kitchens. What did he see in me? I was no one, dowdy and simple. At least last time I could have said the King was in his cups, but today after weeks of not even gazing in my direction I again seemed to have his full attention, and he had not been drinking this time.

    ¡°You will have to go easy on me today Mary, my mare is out of condition having just weaned a fine filly sired by Wraith, she looks just like him.¡±

    So I had surmised correctly, and it pleased me that I could see the foal¡¯s sire without being told. All I did was look up and smile, trying to will my pattering heart to calmness, and hoping that this unscheduled break from my work would not cause me more undue difficulty. However I knew it would, but you didn''t refuse the King.

    I felt his gloved hand suddenly alight on my arm, it was heavy, like a vow. I didn¡¯t pull away, but I am sure he detected the uneasy stiffness in my body as he escorted me to the mounting yard. He again smiled at me reassuringly and I stepped forward. The day was bracingly cool and I was glad I had thought to don my woolen cape. It would be cool on horseback. I did wish I had more practical clothing though. Riding in skirts wasn''t something I relished.

    The leaves swirled around the mounting yard, scraping a discordant tune on the flagstones as Wraith waited by the mounting block, Jerome holding his reins. The stable boy caught my eye furtively for no more than the merest second and then he looked away. I wondered what he was thinking, but perhaps I didn¡¯t wish to know.

    The King guided me up the small set of steps himself, and let me settle onto the large horse¡¯s back. Wraith¡¯s height and great girth didn¡¯t daunt me, I was used to riding a plow horse. After all, I had spent hours on Mack''s back riding the yellow wheat fields of Westfall in less violent days. All without a saddle. However, I was used to riding astride. Today I was confronted with a very elegant red leather side saddle. Worse still I could see the initials T E W were embossed on the leather. This was without a doubt the Queen¡¯s saddle. I had wanted to tell him that I couldn¡¯t ride this way, or at the very least inform him of my inexperience. Yet I did neither when faced with the late Queens memory, positioning myself on the stallion and hoping I could keep my seat. Falling would be an embarrassment I didn¡¯t need.

    The King mounted his mare easily, his large blue cape spreading out over her flanks, and for moments I panicked as I realized to my terror, what if we rode in the park? Everyone would see me. I fought to adjust my balance and position on the unfamiliar saddle realizing I had to sit back more to gain a better point of balance. I did not have long to wallow in my fears though, as I realized that we were headed in the opposite direction to the park, and we were riding alone. I should have realized that like in the palace there were many secret exits and entrances that allowed the royalty to move freely, all without being seen.

    I exhaled a breath that I had been keeping for far too long at the realization. The winding walled pathway covered in rampant ivy was leading us into the forest of Elwynn.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± He said on hearing me exhale too loudly. It was not the most ladylike gesture, one I immediately regretted.

    ¡°Yes I am fine,¡± I reassured trying to keep my voice light, as we passed beneath the first of the large oak trees that were fast losing their leaves to the grasp of Lady Winter. I was glad he had not chosen at this juncture to do anything more strenuous than a simple walk. I was still trying to get the feel for the balance of my seat. Wraith moved fluidly and easily under me, and I could see he would have been the perfect horse to carry a heavily armored man on the battlefield. I wondered if the King had taught him any tricks like knights often taught their warhorses, such as kneeling to receive a fully armored knight?

    I could feel the King''s volcanic eyes appraising me as we rode side by side, and wondered if he already knew I had never ridden sidesaddle before? For a while, we both remained silent with only the sounds of the surrounding forest to comfort us. I could have really been enjoying this moment if it were not for the difficulty Royal company presented. I had seen enough of history to understand this unusual dalliance could not end well, and it would be I that bore the cost. The sensible girl in me longed to turn and ride full gallop, back the way I came, and run back to the kitchens and the rather large pile of silverware that awaited. Yet that bold girl told me, what did I have to lose. I wanted to shout at her, EVERYTHING!

    ¡°You hale from Westfall.¡± He said suddenly, snapping me back to the present.

    ¡°Yes your Majesty.¡± I said all too softly, and I wasn''t sure he had heard me at first over the loud crunching of the crisp yellow leaves beneath heavy hooves.

    ¡°I do hope your rise at court has been beneficial for your family?¡±

    I realized then that he was very much aware of the amount he was paying me per month, and I was supposed to share it with my family. I felt at once guilty for not doing so, but the man didn¡¯t understand the mechanics of how I could explain something like this to them or anyone.

    ¡°I would prefer it Mary when we are alone, if you simply addressed me as Varian.¡±

    I then remembered this was his express request during our last dalliance. ¡°Yes Sir...Varian,¡± I stuttered. Glad that it was cool and the red in my cheeks would be excusable as a byproduct of the cold.

    He smiled then, one that was genuinely mirthful, and creased the laughter lines around his dazzling eyes. I thought he should smile more often, it made him look far more approachable than the sad or brooding King his manner and scars suggested.

    ¡°You ride well.¡±

    I returned his smile on hearing his praise, maybe he didn¡¯t know this was my first time in a sidesaddle, or maybe he was just being kind?

    ¡°I wish my son liked to ride more, but he prefers to bury himself in the priestly teachings of the Light.¡± He seemed sad and disappointed. He turned toward me again, his dark hair trailing across his face, and with it, his former smile returned. ¡°But I can see you like to ride.¡±

    ¡°I do, yes,¡± I answered more gleefully than I had intended, trying to stay firmly in the moment, to let the worry peel away, to pretend I was that fine Lady or Princess riding by his side. If I was going to fall I may as well take all the pleasure to be had along the way.

    He kicked his heels into Valkyrie¡¯s round belly breaking into a fast trot. I followed, and for the first time in many weeks, I found I was laughing. The trot soon built to a canter, and then a gallop. In no time we had run the full breadth of the forest. Breathless we pulled up our quivering horses just shy of Redridge and Three Corners. I was glad, as I didn¡¯t wish the guardsmen stationed there to see us.

    ¡°Come this way,¡± he said to me mischievously. ¡°I will race you to the river,¡± and for a moment the cares of his high office and his years melted away, and he was a boy again. I turned Wraith¡¯s noble head to follow Valkyrie¡¯s retreating rump and the billowing bright blue of the King¡¯s cape. The horse''s iron-shod hooves struck sparks on the mossy rocks, and the leaves scattered. Wraith¡¯s powerful stride was steadily catching Valkyrie who carried a far heavier rider, as we danced a beautiful and spontaneous dance, weaving beneath the fast-rushing trees. The forest sped by, and the world became no more than a kaleidoscope of rich color.

    The Mighty Wraith soon caught up to the out-of-condition mare, and the King gave me a sly smile as we ran shoulder to shoulder for a time. One light touch of my suede shoe to the warhorse¡¯s side sent him careening forward at an even greater speed, and in the wild abandonment of the moment, I fervently wished that there were no Kings or Queens, nor Lords Ladies, and common folk. Only a man and a woman caught up in the dance of love.

    I beat him to the river, unsure if I was supposed to win a race with the King. I waited somewhat nervously. Wraith tossed his glossy steel-colored mane, still wanting to run. I had to hold him tightly. I was a little nervous being out here all alone. I knew that bands of Defias roamed these parts. I did not have long to give reign to those fears though, as shortly Valkyrie burst through the forest line, her snow white mane and tail flying.

    The King pulled his tired mare to a stop and vaulted gracefully from the saddle. He pet the tired mare on her pink nose congratulating her for her spirited performance. She would with more riding find her endurance in time. ¡°That was a good race.¡± he said, his well formed lips erupting into a smile. I realized then that he had indeed expected from me real competition, and held no hard feelings that I had bested him. It was after all Wraith¡¯s doing, he was the superior horse.

    He drew level with me as I sat on Wraith¡¯s tall back. I felt more comfortable in this higher elevation staring down at the crown of His Majesty¡¯s long dark hair, and I was shocked as he grabbed me about the waist and deftly lowered me to my feet. It was as though I weighed nothing at all. I now had to look up, and I didn¡¯t feel nearly as cocky, he was over a head taller than I was, and his next words to me made me feel even less so.

    ¡°Why Mary have you not come to serve at my table? I sense you have been avoiding me?¡± His eyes fastened onto mine, and I caught my breath. Any confidence I had just gained in that horse race melted away like fresh fallen snow by the fire. I bit my lip and looked coyly away from his probing eyes. I didn¡¯t know what to say. One did not lie to a King, however the truth I was not comfortable with telling. I had to say something, anything, and that was what I did.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you saw me,¡± I blurted out. A stupid thing to say as the man had seen pretty much all of me.

    ¡°Ah Mary,¡± he almost looked sad. ¡°A King practices seeing all without appearing to see.¡±

    His words made no sense, they sounded cocky and contrived, and it was then I lost my tight reign of control and I said something I instantly regretted. ¡°How can you miss me when you didn¡¯t even notice me!¡± I retorted. Then I realized I wasn''t talking to a stable boy, I was talking to my King. But it was too late, and tears spilled from my eyes and my lower lip trembled, and before I knew it I was crying.

    I felt his warmth and comfort, his strong arms that held me close. His manly scent combined with horse, leather, sandalwood, and sage. I cried into his broad chest, my tears wetting his dark brown shirt.

    ¡°I do see you Mary,¡± he again reassured, and before I could register he had his gloves off and his warm hands cupped my face forcing my tear-filled eyes to look into his. ¡°In all these weeks I have thought of nothing else.¡±

    His statement was like a shock, a bolt of electricity. ¡®He had thought of nothing else.¡¯

    ¡°Come,¡± he said, as his strong arm guided me carefully to the sandy banks of the river Nazferiti. He let go of me for a moment, as I wiped away my tears on the sleeves of my dress. He took off his voluminous blue cape with the gold lion¡¯s head clasps, threw it onto the ground, unbuckled his sword, and lay it beside him. ¡°Sit with me Mary. I have much to say.¡±

    I positioned myself by his side, he was warm and comforting, and I found myself leaning into him, as he placed his solid arm around me. My eyes though were firmly fixed ahead, concentrating on the dark and sluggish waters that flowed occasionally broken by a leaping silver fish, trying to reign in the unladylike sniffles of my impromptu outburst.

    He too was looking resolutely ahead, out over the waters, towards the dense brooding forest of the adjoining Darkshire. Neither of us spoke for a time. I could feel his fingers moving in gentle circles on my side on top of my cape. I shivered, not because of his touch, but because after the wild ride my earlier adrenaline had subsided, and now I was a trifle cold. Perhaps I should spend some of my gold on warmer clothes, winter was not far away.

    He detected my small shiver and protectively pulled me closer, wrapping me in part of his thick cape as we sat on the remainder. ¡°I hadn''t meant for you to have felt so wretched Mary.¡± He finally said to break the silence. ¡°It was never my intent. Though I am King and it would be theoretically in my power to do anything I desired. The most beloved rulers rule with restraint.¡± His voice was troubled.

    I nodded, my eyes still fixated on some indeterminable position across the waters. Wondering if this was his way of saying, I enjoy you, but we can¡¯t be seen together publicly?

    His wandering fingers stilled to encircle my waist. I could feel the possession in his touch. He turned then to look at me, his dark hair fell like tendrils over his eyes. Tenderly I brushed his long fringe back from those lovely orbs of sea blue, my fingers lingering on the heavy scar that ran under his left eye up over the bridge of his nose and careened across his right cheek. It was deep and still livid after many years, and I wondered fleetingly what dark hell''s this man had seen?

    ¡°It no longer hurts,¡± he said to stem my curious finger''s inspection as if he could read my thoughts, and I wondered how many had actually touched him in this private way? I used to believe many, with him being a widower. But today, his reaction made me ponder my earlier fantasies.

    ¡°There are distinct ways a King must proceed when he wishes to get his way. It is simply not a matter of just taking. Do you remember last summer, the debut of the Ladies at court?¡±

    I did, it was a time of parties, music, and feasts. I had been incredibly busy, and life in the palace then had been very new, as I had only recently been employed there. The work days had been long, and everything must be perfect. Even so the Ladies in their fine gowns had bedazzled me, and left a lasting impression, the handsome Lords too. I nodded, wondering why he would mention them, surely there was one among them who could be capable of winning his heart? Even though I knew the real purpose of bringing the Ladies to court was to find a suitable match for Prince Anduin. Unlike many royals, Anduin had not been formally betrothed, perhaps because of the betrayal of Lady Katrana Prestor, and the strife in the kingdom that followed. Or just maybe King Wrynn who did have an arranged marriage, believed one needed to love with the heart.

    ¡°There is no written rule that says a farmer¡¯s daughter cannot have a debut at court.¡± His bushy eyebrow raised at this and the corner of his lip housed a sly smile.

    I hadn''t expected this. I hung on his every word.

    He looked away again out over the river, picking up a stone that he flung far into its dark depths. The stone made a loud plop as it contacted the water midstream. ¡°Usually this occasion is planned for summer. However, as my son is of marriageable age, he needs to wed. As he didn¡¯t select a lady then, it would not be breaking with court protocol to hold a second debut this year, perhaps at Winterveil during all the festivities.¡±

    He placed his strong fingers under my chin, lifting my furtive gaze to look into his own magnificent and fierce one. ¡°You shall debut this winter Mary, be patient, and in time, I will, I promise, negotiate your way to my side.¡±

    For a moment my world reeled, <i>was he proposing marriage! He had not said it in so many words, but surely that was what he was alluding to?</i>

    I stammered breathless, but he silenced me with a roguish kiss. I could feel his stubble on my sensitive face, and as our tongues dueled I felt hot waves of passion deep below. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind Mary the practical was trying to speak, but she could not get Bold Mary¡¯s attention. I was lost in his kiss and the taste of him.

    Our lips parted and I stared at him. ¡°Why me?¡± I finally had the courage to squeak out, I must have sounded foolish. ¡°I mean... there are so many other beautiful ladies.¡±

    He cut me off in a Kingly fashion. ¡°Let me tell you a story Mary,¡± and his eyes left my face to stray to Wraith who was nibbling the tight remains of summer grass that grew between the white asters before it faded away. ¡°He was a small and sickly foal of no breeding, born in a Westfall farmer¡¯s field to a cart horse.¡± Then he looked across at Valkyrie who was grazing contentedly alongside him. ¡°She on the other hand has carefully recorded bloodlines that go all the way back to the First War. While Valkyrie is a fine horse, how does her ancestry make her any finer than Wraith?¡±

    He had a point, Wraith was certainly a horse fit for a King.

    ¡°You Mary have the spark of fineness within you. I saw it that night at my table, I see it now. I have an heir, and he will shortly marry, and ascend the throne. You see, you feel, you are not afraid of joy, or to tell me what you think.¡± His blue eyes blazed with raw emotion, like a convert to a new religion.

    I was not so sure, because I did want to tell him that this was madness, that his desire for me would fade over time. That he could not put the kingdom before his irresponsible desire for a farmer¡¯s daughter. Perhaps my passing likeness to Queen Tiffin was all he saw? The folly of a lonely, grieving man?

    But nothing came out, and his lips were feasting on mine once more. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to him. I lay back on his great blue cape, staring at the treetops that swayed overhead and watching the oak leaves gracefully fall, as I may well do if I continued on this course.

    He was warm and heavy atop me. I hitched my skirts up and let him seek my achingly hot and already dripping center. I could feel him hard and poised to conquer me as he pinned me to the forest floor. I edged toward him as much as his weight on me would allow. I was craving his entrance, pining for the feel of him inside me. A pressing sensation and then gasping release as he battered down my gates. His lips left my mouth, and his tongue like white-hot fire traced the curve of my neck, while his teeth sought my ear lobe to nibble deliciously, playfully, as I arched my back and moaned senseless possibilities.

    My fingers were entangled in his shining dark hair, questing, seeking, searching. Holding him to me, as though there would be no tomorrow. Nothing else existed, not the forest or the gray skies above, the fine horses, or the river before us. Just he and I fused into one like white-hot fire.

    I was perilously close to my own release, my mind turned inward seeking this indescribable joy. A joy that I had so recently discovered, with him and only him. Oh if he abandoned me there could be no others. I moaned and whimpered as his tempo increased, my hand clutching blindly at his well-muscled form through the brown leather of his clothes, loving the feel of his weight on me. The world began to spin, and my body began to tremble.

    Suddenly just before I could reach this longed-for nirvana he retreated from my body. His action was so rapid I was startled and sat up watching his thick member throb and pulse as it spat its seed between us onto his cloak. He looked at me all animal, but with chagrin too, his blue eyes held the intensity of a zealot.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± he replied breathlessly, and in that moment he seemed less of a King and more of an ordinary man. ¡°But that¡¯s a complication we both do not need.¡±

    I nodded, he was right of course, but I felt cheated as I had come so close to the edge and had been left wanting. If only he could have held it a few moments more.

    ¡°Come.¡± he said, ¡°I will make it up to you.¡± The grin on his face was wantonly devilish. He pushed up my skirts and I stifled a gleeful squeal as his tongue finished the job.