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. Why had I so easily surrendered myself, and walked into the veritable Lion of Stormwind’s den? 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, was he proposing marriage! He had not said it in so many words, but surely that was what he was alluding to?
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.