World of Cypheria - Estaldo's Story - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"How much growth do we expect in the flocks this year?" Estaldo asked Emmet over his mug, staring at the estate books open all over the table.

"We expect a good year, Sir, but the figures will depend on the new grazing lands west of here. We replanted some scrub land in a new hardy grass that's supposed to survive the more arid conditions there. If it works, we will be able to keep a larger percentage of the lambs to increase the herds. It will mean a smaller income in meat stock sales for a couple years, but a larger future stock." Emmet flipped through a faded ledger and showed Estaldo the relevant figures.

"Yes, I see. Very good. Will the drop in cash flow affect the horse breeding plans?" Estaldo reached for yet another book. He had already been at this for three hours, but he was determined to do it right, and needed to get a good foundation in his mind before leaving for Ysador. He took another drink of the strong bitter infusion the cook had made him, saying it would ease stiff muscles. He wasn't sure it was helping, but hunching over this table sure wasn't. It wasn't helping his head either. It was pounding. He had a feeling he should have slept longer than he had.

There was just too much going on. He felt like he was spinning between pending disasters. The only good thing was the way Lobella had bloomed! His thoughts drifted to a memory of her with a sword in her hand, and covered in gore fighting to get free of him to help a wounded man. What a woman she was!

Her voice roused him just as his head bobbed over the dull books and he caught Emmet's disappearing smile as he turned to greet her. "Good morning, Bella! How are you..." He stopped as he saw her, startled by the contrast from the memories he had been almost asleep in.

She stood in her full gown, a lovely spring green that stood out from her dark skin. Her shoulders drooped, her head drooped, her hair again disguised her features. "Good morning, my Lord," she murmured, or at least that's what he thought he heard.

"Lobella, what's wrong with you? What are you doing?" he blurted, confused.

"Nothing, my Lord. Do I displease you?" She glanced up quickly at him from behind her hair, just as she had when they had first met.

"What? No, I mean yes!" He saw her head drop again and suddenly he was angry through the pain in his head. "Why are you acting this way?"

Her eyes blinked through drooping locks. "I must behave as a proper lady, to be your princess. Acting as I did the other day was inexcusable. Whatever I may wish is unimportant. I beg my Lord's forgiveness." Her voice was husky, as if she dare not speak up. She hadn't worried about making noise on their wedding night!

He didn't understand, and couldn't focus well enough to figure it out now. "Whatever you want, my Lady," he said, frustration tingeing his voice more than he had intended. "Have some breakfast and look around your new home. I have work to do."

He sat back down and stared at the numbers drifting across the page before him, expecting her to join him at the table. Instead, he heard her footsteps receding and turned to see her running up the stairs, hands to her face. What had happened to her? He looked up at Emmet, who was doing his best to look in some other direction. "Emmet, do you understand women?"

"No, my Lord. I understand sheep, and wolves, and horses, and crops. No man understands women! I know a little about Martha, though, and you better drink that brew she gave you before she comes to check, my Lord!" Emmet tried a smile as he looked down at the prince.

The last thing he needed was two women mad at him this morning. Estaldo picked up the bitter concoction and choked it down. "I think that's enough for now, Emmet. I'm going back to my room for a bit. I'll check on the wounded men a little later, then I'd like to do a walk around with you."

"Yes, Your Highness." Emmet gave him a short bow and began gathering up the books.

Estaldo slowly climbed the stairs to his room. He suspected there was something in the brew to make him sleepy, although he didn't need much encouragement. He entered the bedroom, unsure if he was hoping Lobella would be there, or not. She wasn't. He flopped face down on the bed and was asleep.

---

A clattering from outside the window woke him some time later. The rest of the caravan was arriving and he roused himself to go meet them. Patrick was already at the door as he came down the stairs a few minutes later. "Any trouble?"

"Of course not. You weren't there to start it." Patrick looked tired, but a relieved smile showed through the banter at the sight of the Prince safe and sound. "How is the Princess?"

"Oh, she's just peachy, I'm sure." Estaldo growled, reminded of their performance this morning. Just then the rest of the ladies fluttered up the stairs, looking like a bunch of slightly faded flowers. "Ladies. I hope your trip wasn't too exhausting. I'm sure refreshments will be sent up right away, and you will soon be settled in and refreshed." They all curtseyed tiredly and let the servants guide them up the stairs.

Estaldo could hear the Captain barking orders to the men in the courtyard and sent a boy to request his presence in the library once he had things settled to his satisfaction. Looking around, he spotted Emmet in the midst of a storm of servants coming and going with new direction. "Emmet, some ale and food in the library when it can be arranged, if you please? For, ah, make it four please."

Estaldo and Patrick headed there to wait for the guard captain. "Did you have a chance to talk to Mansel on the trip, Patrick?" Estaldo asked. He was not looking forward to the coming interview, and in truth had no idea how to establish the loyalty of somebody given the events with Cerix.

"I talked to him. He maintains his loyalty. What else can he do?" Patrick shook his head and collapsed into an overstuffed arm chair with his back to the huge window open to the early summer garden. "So what's up with your lovely wife? Trouble in paradise already? What did you do to her?"

Estaldo cast a glance at him that shut him up immediately. Then he smiled a little in apology. "To be honest, I don't know, exactly. She was so strong on the trip, the way she rode and fought, and she was still walking when we got here! I could barely stand, but she walked to the rooms herself. Then this morning, she was suddenly back to the mousy little thing, and I'm afraid I didn't handle it well. I don't understand how she can be so different! Like she's two different women!"

Patrick laughed. "No, she's just a woman. They're all like that, to one degree or another. Just get her to talk, and listen. Don't try to understand, you won't, but if you listen she'll think you do anyway. Sometimes. Then again, she's a woman, you just never know!" Another laugh. "Given that it's you we're talking about, you're doomed."

"Oh, you're a big help." There was knock on the door and Captain Garlin walked in, followed by a couple of servants with trays of food and tankards of light ale. Estaldo rose and greeted the man with a firm hand clasp. "Captain, you have my sincere thanks. You have been invaluable on this journey. It shall not be forgotten. Nor will your men's bravery."

"Thank you, your Highness, it was naught but our duty, and our honor." He let a smile flit across his face. "If I may speak freely, my Lord?"

"Of course, Captain. I would be disappointed otherwise. Formality has it uses, but it gets in the way just as often." Estaldo handed him a well earned ale and motioned him to a seat.

"The men are deeply smitten with the Princess, my Lord, every one of them. Those who stayed with me, wounded or no, have all requested permanent assignment to your personal guard."

"It would seem to me that would be a quick way to get killed, the way things are going, Captain!" Estaldo shook his head ruefully. "Besides, I don't have a personal guard."

"I think it would be a wise idea, my Prince. You are a grown man with a wife and possibly little princes and princesses to think of soon. It is time to have your own men. Transferring them back and forth from the Royal Guard, or pulling them from the Palace Guard is no longer practical, and you should know and command your own men." He ducked his head a bit, then met the Prince's eyes. "I have taken the liberty of sending this suggestion back to Khultarra." Suddenly he rose from his chair and knelt before Estaldo, head bowed. "I have also requested the assignment as your permanent Captain, if my Lord will allow."

Estaldo stared at him, dumbfounded. Patrick grinned but remained silent. His first impulse was to tell the man to just get up, but he stopped himself. Captain Garlin was in deadly earnest, and he could not treat the gesture with any less respect. He stood and placed his hand on the man's head. "Subject to my father's approval, I accept you as Captain of my Personal Guard, and charge you with the security of myself, my family, and my household. I entrust to you our safety, and am well satisfied. Rise."

Estaldo stepped back and the Captain rose. They stood looking at each other for a moment, both unsure what was next. Patrick cleared his throat. "If you to are done being all formal, would you mind passing the bread?"

Estaldo laughed and shook his head. Trust Patrick. "Take a chair, Captain. Have a drink and some food. I have been considering what to do about Mansel. Cerix was a traitor, and they have both been with me since I was a child. I have no idea where or how they were hired, nor can I find out now. How do I trust him?"

"You can't, my Lord. I hope that it is a disservice to him, but it is not a risk you can take. Have him sent back to the Castle for inquiry, and find yourself a knew man, somebody local and random. I'm sorry, I understand it must be difficult, but nothing else would be safe."

"I feel that nothing is safe, anymore, nor will be for a long time." Estaldo sighed and took a drink. The ale was excellent, a light brew for a warm afternoon. Suddenly he was hungry and he set it down and reached to put meat and cheese on some bread, fighting with Patrick over the crock of the cook's wonderful spread.

"How are the men? How many lost?"

"Only one dead. Six badly injured, but likely to recover with a few scars. One swears he owes his arm to the Princess! Many small cuts, one broken leg. The man had the bad luck to fall from his horse through a wagon wheel. He'll recover, the leg set straight." The captain smiled grimly. "They are good men, and blooded now. They will be the core of your guard. A visit from you and the princess would be very welcome."

"I certainly intend to visit them, and I'm sure the Princess will as well. Please coordinate with Emmet and the guard master here for our local defense." Estaldo paused, glancing at Patrick. He nodded. "Captain, please say nothing to anybody just yet, but I will be making another trip shortly. I must needs visit Ysalor on a matter of some import, and secrecy. Please consider the best way to make such a trip with a small guard and no notice."

Captain Garlin opened his mouth to question, then paused and said simply, "Yes, my Lord."

"Would you send for Mansel please, Captain. I at least owe him a personal explanation." Estaldo took another drink of the ale. He was not looking forward to this interview.

The three men ate and drank in silence until another knock on the door heralded the arrival of his life long manservant, under guard. At his call, Mansel was led in with two guards. The Captain sent them to take up guard in the hall. Mansel sank to his knees, looking down at the floor.

"Sit, Mansel. I am profoundly sorry about this. Damn it, man, I truly don't think any wrong of you. But I didn't of Cerix, either. I have no choice in this matter, but to send you back to the Palace for investigation. I have no doubt you will be cleared, and return to my service soon. But the way things are, this must be done. I do hope you understand. But if you don't, it must be done anyway." He looked down at a man who had done nearly as much to raise him as his father. "Damn it, man, get off the floor."

Mansel finally nodded, stood, and took the tankard Patrick offered him, even taking a small drink. "My Lord, I would never betray you. I would never have thought Cerix would, either. I don't like this. I know you can trust me, and I want to say you should know it, too. But you can't. I know that." He looked up and Estaldo almost flinched at the anger in his eyes. "All I wish, my Lord, is to see Cerix again. Perhaps, one day..."

"Have no doubt that Cerix will meet an end appropriate to him. You will return to the palace as soon as a return trip can be arranged. In the meantime, you will be housed in the barracks under house arrest. Orders will be given to treat you with respect, but I'm afraid the guards will be required. I swear this will be handled as swiftly as possible, Mansel. You have given me long years of service, and believe me, it has been greatly missed already. I think I may be wearing miss-matched hose under my boots."

Mansel managed a small smile. "Probably, your Highness. You will need somebody to help you until I can return. May I assist in choosing and training... No, I suppose not. Then I shall hope you can find somebody who at least is not color blind."

Patrick laughed. "I, for one, shall miss you! It is a difficult job we do, keeping his lord's head from swelling out of his hats. I shall endeavor to carry the load alone until your return! I must say, however, it is growing much more difficult lately!"

Mansel grinned at him, and the four of them traded small conversation until the platters were depleted, and the ale gone. Then Estaldo rose to attend the wounded and Mansel was returned to the barracks. The Prince listened to the orders issued for his guard, satisfied that he would be well treated.

The wounded had been set up in one of the barracks dormitories. Estaldo was half surprised not to see Lobella there, but not at all surprised to find she had already been. He moved through the men, shaking a hand there, offering some water here, thanking these men for protecting him and his with their bodies. It affected him profoundly, seeing the loyalty in the eyes of men with their flesh ripped open. He vowed they would have his loyalty as he had theirs.

He visited Alsvider in the stable on the way back, and was amused to hear that Lobella had been there earlier, to visit Paté. The stable master reported that she had come with only Seneea, and seemed a bit nervous. "Like a filly straying too far from it's dam, milord." The old man grinned, displaying teeth yellowed and remarkably similar to his charges'.

He just didn't understand the woman. She owned all of this, yet she felt she must sneak to visit a horse. He was beginning to think that the vision of her on her army horse with a sword in her hand had been a dream.

Returning to the house, he resolved to find her. Patrick went to bathe and rest a bit before dinner, and Estaldo found from one of the maids that the ladies were in the solar on the second floor. He found his way there and took a deep breath before knocking briefly and entering.

Lobella was seated in a huge wing back chair before a window catching her in sunlight. An embroidery rack stood before her, though her hands rested idly in her lap. She wore a dress with many layers of frothy lace in a pale yellow that faded her hair into colorlessness. Seneea sat on a cushion near her feet, while the other women scattered around the room working on various handiwork projects. The ladies Melisard and Sendinal were wearing much simpler outfits, but they were in the minority among the other women here. A few he recognized from the caravan, but others must be local gentry here to greet their new princess. Their lords would be presenting themselves tomorrow. Another thing he wasn't looking forward to, particularly.

The room had gone silent with his entrance, and he felt like a specimen on display before all those feminine eyes. He bowed to the room and nearly lost control to a giggle when he caught Seneea rolling her eyes at him. He managed to swallow and rose to address his wife. "My Lady, I thought you might care for a stroll around the garden. Some mild activity would be of use to both of us, I believe, after our recent trials."

She looked up at him, finally, and after staring searchingly at him for a moment, nodded. "Yes, my Lord, that does sound pleasant." Her silk shoes peeked from under her skirts as she rose and he wondered how she would fare on the garden paths, but decided to leave it to her discretion. He did resolve to consider their route carefully.

He offered her his arm and they made their silent way downstairs and out to the flower beds behind the manse. Tallagate had long been known for its gardens, and they were extensive. They were open for public tour on holidays and certain other occasions, but not with the Prince and family in residence. Several other women fluttered behind them, including Ardrel Sendinal and Tellra Melisard looking relieved. He had a feeling things were not going to be easy for many of them for a very long time. He sighed.

Lobella looked up at him as they reached the door, then down at her feet again. "I'm sorry to so disappoint you, my Lord." She didn't even look at the magnificent array of vining ferrablossoms that covered the archway leading into the gardens.

"Lobella, Bella, you don't disappoint me. You surprise me, continuously, but you do not disappoint me. It is I who must apologize for my reaction this morning." He sighed again. "You have me thinking that I have married different women. One who is withdrawn and out of place, quiet and unsure. One who rides and fights with the best of my soldiers. One who is a wanton in my arms at night."

She pulled away, still looking down at the bark that covered the path. "I don't know who you want me to be. I don't know how to be the person anybody wants me to be, it seems. I do try. I will try not to shame you my lord." She turned suddenly onto a new path away from him and he had to stop to keep from walking away from her.

Estaldo turned after her, not knowing what to try next. What could he say to this woman that she wouldn't take wrong? "Lobella, wait! Lobella, don't walk away! Please, Lobella!" His exasperation must have come through, for when he reached for her arm she pulled away and ran back toward the house. "Lobella!"

He saw Ardrel Sendinal give him a dirty look and go after her, and Seneea move to meet her at the door. Then they were hidden in the flutter of pastel skirts. "We'll never get her straightened out if you keep this up, my Lord." The voice coming up beside him came from Tellra Melisard, and was rather acerbic. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing! I tried to tell her that I wasn't disappointed, but that I didn't know what to make of her! She changes all the time! I don't know what to expect or what to say from one meeting to the next!" Estaldo turned to the black-haired young woman, hoping for something, anything, to help.

"That's because she doesn't know what to be. She wants desperately to please. She never has, you know. Pleased anyone."

Estaldo nodded, he knew that, after meeting her mother and sister.

"But everybody wants something different from her. When we arrived here, the women fussed and pampered her, and when she woke, they did the same and they seemed so pleased that she let them. Of course, they deplored the clothes she rode in wearing, and the need for her to wear them, so she let them dress her 'as befits a Lady' again. Then you yelled at her so she retreated to the only ones that seemed pleased with her, even though she hates their primping." Tellra gazed after the Princess, at the walls of the manse. "She must find a way to her own self confidence, figure out who she wants to be. I don't know how to help her."

Estaldo shook his head. "Neither do I, obviously. I had hoped that you and Ardrel and Seneea could help, but I see you are outnumbered. And it isn't going to improve anytime soon. The Lords arrive to meet us tomorrow, then we will have to have a banquet. There will be no dearth of proper women folk for her to try to please." He sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "The fact is, she must be accepted by them, at least to some degree. She is their Princess, and will someday be their Queen. Alienating them all with outrageous dress and behavior would not be a good start. Maybe we should let it be for now."

Tellra looked at him. "You are awfully young for this," she said to herself, just loud enough for him to hear. "No, Taldo, you should not let it be, or you may not ever get her back. Go, send the women away, and let her talk to you. Don't try to solve everything for her, just let her talk. Give her some information if she asks, but don't fix it for her. Let her talk."

Estaldo looked at her. "That's what Patrick said."

"He would." She smiled a bit, eyes somewhere else. Patrick, and Tellra? No surely not. She was a nobleman's daughter! He wouldn't, would he?

"Go, Estaldo!" Her voice brought him back and sent him stepping toward the house and his wife.

His wife. Yes, she was right, they had to figure this thing out, it couldn't wait. Lobella didn't have the time or luxury of finding her way slowly, she had to pull herself together, and she had to do it quickly. Surely she could see that. Actually, she probably could. That would explain part of why she was trying so hard to be a 'proper lady.' He sighed again. He had no idea how to help her. Listen, they said. If only she would talk! She just seemed to get him going long enough to say the wrong things!

He trudged up the stairs, trying to think of, well anything. He'd never had to work this hard to get along with a woman before. Except Joanne, and she didn't really count. Come to think of it, there really weren't any other women in his life on any kind of serious level. He knew how to keep the castle staff women happy with him, but somehow he didn't think the same kind of flattery and boyishness would work with Lobella. He looked up and was in front of the door to the women's solar. He stared at it for a while. He shuffled his feet.

Somebody cleared their throat behind him and he started violently, whipping his head around to see an elderly maid with a tray. She kept an admirably bland face but he could see her eyes twinkle. "Excuse me, my Lord. The ladies wanted some refreshment, they did." Her lips twitched but didn't quite reach a smile.

He sighed as the heat flamed in his cheeks and he smiled at her anyway, giving free rein to her own amusement. Estaldo opened the door and gestured her in ahead of him with a flourish and let the smile stay on his face as his eyes rose to find those of his wife. He saw confusion there, and a little hurt, and a game little smile in return quivered on her soft lips.

"My lady, might we speak in private?" He held out his hand to her from the door.

There was a soft rustle around the room as several of the women shifted in their seats. He could almost feel the disapproval from the older women, and he could see the frowns on their faces. Damn them, he was their prince, and she was their princess, not some provincial maid to be taught manners! He drew himself up and let his eyes drift around the room as he'd seen his father do a hundred times. He almost smiled when the rustling drifted after his gaze, female eyes dropping to laps. He looked back to Lobella, hand still outstretched for her. He smiled encouragement and she rose and came to him.

They strolled toward their private sitting room in silence, neither wanting to disturb the almost accord they felt for the moment. Why couldn't things be like this all the time? Entering their chambers, he let her go, suddenly unsure again.

"Lobella..." He paced around the room, totally unable to come up with anything. She sat on the edge of an upholstered chair, hands in her lap and head down, saying nothing. Suddenly frustrated again, he stopped and faced her. "Patrick and Tellra say I should just listen to you, but how can I do that if you never talk?" he finally burst out at her, then turned to pacing again.

"What am I supposed to say, my Lord? I seem unable to fit into this strange life of yours. I was unable to fit into life at home. I don't fit anywhere." She buried her face in her hands and shook with sobs. She was still talking, but he couldn't make out more than a word here and there, and he found himself on his knees next to her. He hesitantly put an arm around her and tried to comfort her.

"No, Lobella, you will fit in, you just have to find a way to do it your way! Not all at once, but you'll find a way! Don't cry, please don't cry!" He held her awkwardly and cursed. He'd never felt awkward with her before. "Bella, don't cry, it will be alright, I promise. It will get better. You just have to be yourself!"

She wrenched herself away from him, whirling to yell at him. "Be myself! Goddess, who is that? Who am I? Do you know who I am? Because I don't! So tell me, Prince!" She made it an epithet. "Who am I? Who am I supposed to be? The prim and proper Kahlzistani princess, wrapped in lace and simpering to every man that walks by?" She made man sound equivalent to rat. "Or the exotic Arbigahlan warrior woman? I failed at that before I ever came here! You married a failure, Prince Estaldo! I only hope it doesn't bring us to war!" The last works faded to barely a whisper as the bloom of angry color faded from her face, and he realized just how frightened she was.

She stared at him staring at her, then turned and fled to her own rooms, slamming the door behind her. Well, that had worked well. He supposed his great counselors would advise him to go after her, but he just couldn't do it again. He had no idea what to do for her, and he just seemed to make it worse. Damn it, she would just have to figure it out for herself, at least for today. He left, headed for the stables. He needed some clean air and space for awhile.

---

Patrick turned away from the window, shaking his head. "Well, they'll have to figure it out for themselves. What do you think of the Princess?" He looked over at the lovely form draped over the divan in his room.

Ardrel thought a moment. "She's a difficult one to understand. She has been bullied all her life for being weak, but she is from a land where even a weak woman is expected to command respect. She has been told she must serve her husband, although she spent her young life being served by men. She has been told that war could come of her incompetence. The poor dear is totally bewildered."

She reached up and pulled two jeweled pins from her gold streaked brunette hair, and it cascaded down over her lap. "She shows flashes of strength, though. Tellra and I will stay close and try to keep the matrons of propriety under control and give her room to figure it out." Her lips curved in an openly sultry smile. "Now, my dear, enough about another woman. Tellra can only cover my absence for so long. I'm sure you don't wish to spend it on the Prince's romantic problems."

Patrick smiled back, letting his eyes trail over Ardrel's figure, lush even laced tightly into the fashionable gown she wore. "No, indeed my Lady. I have other ideas entirely."

He went and drew her smoothly to her feet. He bent close, his lips not quite brushing hers before moving to the side. His breath caressed her cheek as he drifted down to her neck before finally tasting her fine skin, lightly, so lightly. He enjoyed the catch he felt in her breath through his grip on her arms. Straightening again, he let his lips touch one fine brow before releasing her to reach around and pull the soft weight of her hair over one shoulder.

He moved slowly behind her, his hand drifting chastely across her upper chest, barely brushing the fabric. He could see the tight laces stretch with each quickening breath, and he pulled the first knot loose.

"Patrick..." She started, and stopped.

His fingers lightly tugged and the dress loosened until she filled her lungs with a deep breath. His fingers slipped through the back of the bodice and stroked her sides lightly over the fine linen shift she wore beneath. Then he reached down and gathered up her skirt, finally lifting the dress while she obligingly raised her arms. He paused, the dress still trapping her arms and face, and leaned in to let his lips and tongue slip along the top of her spine.

She gasped and wiggled down, trying to pull free of the weight of fabric imprisoning her. "Patrick!" Her voice was gaining a bit of insistence.

He smiled as he pulled the gown free of her. "Yes, my Lady? Did you want something?" He smiled wickedly at her as she turned. The smile widened as he watched her trying to decide whether to growl at him or kiss him.

Cupping one hand behind her head, he pulled her to him and helped her make up her mind. No soft caress this, their hunger opened their mouths to give free rein to their tongues, exploring each other, tasting and twining. He pulled her hard to him, enjoying the feel of her body through the layers of cloth that yet separated them. She was enjoying the feel of his, too, pressing against the hardness between them.

He reached down and scooped her up, and carried her to the bed, placing her tenderly in the center before breaking their kiss to stand before her. The soft linen outlined her breasts. His eyes drifted over the tiny tents where her nipples stood waiting for him. Looking up he caught her eyes on his own hands as he pulled his shirt loose. He lifted it slowly over his head, giving her the chance to look her fill. He sat beside her, and let one hand drift along her smooth calf, stroking the tender skin behind her knee, pushing the shift just enough to bare the glimpse of a smooth thigh before bending to remove his boots.

He saw the twinkle in her eye as she decided to pay him back for his slow tease. Her own hand drifted slowly up her stomach, slowly moving to cup her breast. Her palm flattened and moved over it, rolling the hard nipple. He could see her breath deepen again as she moved her hand down to pinch it between her thumb and forefinger. He realized his own breath had deepened and he was staring at her. He glanced up and caught her almost hidden grin and choked back a laugh.

"Beautiful, my Lady. Any man would be entranced by such as you!" He pulled loose his boots and stood again. His hands went to his pants and it was his turn to smile as her eyes followed them and she licked her lips. He slid them down, baring the hard length of his phallus. He bent to remove them entire and as he straightened he found her on her knees before him, her eyes on the object of her desire. He saw no reason to object.

Her lips closed over him and he tilted his head back, eyes closed, a silent groan locked in his throat at the feeling. She had no great skill as yet, but he had never found a woman with more enthusiasm, not even Trina. Her tongue lapped at him, and she sucked the precum that released at her urging. The groan escaped finally as he had to breathe out in order to gasp as his body demanded he do. Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock and began moving as she sucked more of him into her mouth. He felt his knees try to bend and braced them on the side of the bed. She was devouring him, her head bobbing, already at a rapid pace. He scooped up her heavy hair and held it back to watch her face.

Her sweet lips slid over him, his cock disappearing into her mouth. It was a fascinating sight, and he lost a minute just watching. He reached back and let his fingers walk her shift up an inch at a time. Slowly the curves of her ass appeared, and the line of her spine traced up her back. He gathered the cloth into his hands and lifted it, easing back from her until she finally, reluctantly released him. He wasn't ready to spend yet, in spite of her eager attentions, and the sight of her lower end took his mind to other pleasures.

He lifted her chin with one hand and pulled her shift over her head, dropping it off her hands as he pulled her to her knees. He kissed her softly, urging her back on the bed, crawling up to follow as she laid back. He let the kiss trail down, tracing her jaw, the pillar of her neck, the delightful notch of her sternum. He followed the slope of her breast and curved his path around it, one hand coming up to softly cover the other soft mound before his lips gently drew her hard nipple into the reach of his tongue. He fit the notch at the base of his thumb around one as he sucked and played with the other one. She shifted under him, her hands in his hair, her hips lifting from the bed and dropping again when she failed to reach him.

Patrick wanted little more than to oblige her, but he held off just a bit longer. Giving her breast one last hard suck, he moved down, biting softly at the side of her luscious belly, enjoying her movements under him. A little lower and he teased the edges of her folds open with his tongue. He held her hips still and opened her slowly until the bright bud of her center lay exposed. He let his breath ghost across it and watched it swell.

"Patrick, don't tease! Oh, Patrick," Her voice was hoarse with the eagerness of her young body, so quickly on fire.

He let his tongue graze her lightly and laughed at her moan. He gave up subtlety and licked her, tasting her tangy flavor. She bucked under him and he reached down to ease his tongue into her opening, making sure she was wet and ready for him. He needn't have worried.

He slid into her tight passage with a smooth, slow stretching of her walls. She moaned and pulled him in, her legs rising around him. Her warm flesh wrapped him inside and out and he moved in her, skin sliding on skin. Their mouths, their tongues echoed the rest of their bodies, twining and moving on each other. Her nails scratched him and she bit, lost in the feeling that were still new to her. She had lost any inhibitions she may have had without regret, and now was wild under his thrusts.

He felt his own body tightening, legs straining tight as he pulled back against her hold on him. His hips moved in short hard motions, deep inside her. She cried out and arched back under him. Her pussy tightened around him in waves and his own orgasm swept through him. He drove himself as deep as he could for one last push, his arms locked around her, a groan coming from deep in his chest. He felt his shaft throb and explode, depositing his salty seed deep within her.

---

The women were hopeless. Lobella sighed as she reined back again. Even the mild little palfrey the stableman had given her instead of Paté wanted to move more quickly than these women could handle. She sighed and readjusted her skirts, again. It was probably a good thing, surely she'd sail right off the horse's back if she tried to gallop in this ridiculous outfit. She let the mare move ahead a bit, climbing a rise while being careful not to worry the ever present guards. They seemed puzzled as they looked at her. She blushed slightly as she remembered the last time they'd seen her ride. Her heart yearned to go back to that brief period of happiness before the attack.

Tellra rode up beside her. Lobella envied her the simple riding dress she wore. It wasn't quite pants, but it was much more comfortable appearing than the yards of fabric she was encased in. She sighed. She knew the other noblewomen were scandalized by it, and so she couldn't wear anything so practical, in spite of Tellra's urging. "My Lady. At least the air is wonderfully fresh out here. We must do something about airing out the sitting rooms!"

"Yes, those windows have to open! Surely this wonderful country air cannot be as bad as Lady Hawthorne implies! Oh, Tellra, how can I survive making them approve of me?"

Movement caught her eye, and she focused on a rider down the valley some little way. He came out of the woods angled back toward the estate, and from that angle probably had no idea of his audience. The horse picked up his pace and fairly flew across the tall grass. A pair of guards trailed with no hope of matching the pace of Estaldo, for that is who it must be.

Tellra cleared her throat. "Your Highness, have you considered, you are the Princess. You will be our Queen. Why should you be worrying about them approving of you? It is up to you to approve of them!" She looked sideways at Lobella, and saw the naked longing in her eyes, knowing it was for both the man and the picture of freedom before her. "I know what your family told you, but the fact is that you have married the prince. It is done. You must keep the respect of the country, yes, but that doesn't mean following the outmoded prejudices of every country noblewoman! You are a young woman, and your country will love you for being their spirited, lovely, young princess! Do what you like!"

Estaldo slowed and let his guards catch up just as they rode from sight behind another patch of trees, and Lobella looked at Tellra. "I don't know. They all seem so important, and I know that the way a woman acts in Arbigahl would send them screaming for home. Not that I ever was a proper Arbigahlan woman, either. But I see you and Ardrel at least a bit more comfortable! I will think about it. Something has to change or I will never make a decent wife, or princess or anything else. And I do so wish to do right at something!" Suddenly her face was crumpled in tears and she bowed over her horse's neck, sobbing.

Tellra glanced over her shoulder, gauging the chances of letting the Princess finish her much needed cry without becoming the centerpiece of a fluttering flock of females. She kneed her horse and herded Lobella's over the crest of the hill, shooting a glance at Seneea. She wasn't sure what the maid could do, but the woman had an amazing gift for improvisation. "Lobella, you will be fine. I think you are closer than you think to taking the first steps on the right path. Just have courage a little longer. You're doing fine. Everybody loves you, including Estaldo! You'll find the way, we'll help you." She kept murmuring every positive thing that popped into her head, reaching to stroke the woman's back up and down.

Seneea caught the look and managed to urge her horse into Lady Thinstimple's, and the poor old animal did its best to shy. That put all of them into a quite satisfying tither, causing more horses to startle. Eventually poor Miss Runderlock slid right off onto a bush! The guards cursed under their breath as they dismounted and calmed horses and women and caught the confused bay that seemed mostly unsure of where her rider had gone. Seneea had a coughing fit to cover her laughter.

Tellra caught a good part of it over the top of the rise, and ended in a spate of giggles in spite of her attempts to resist. Lobella looked up from her tears in hurt amazement, and Tellra tried to stop, then saw Lady Heithengorse with her reins tangled and the poor horse going in circles, around and around, and she was lost. She just waved Lobella to look back. Lobella listlessly looked toward her escort and her eyes widened a bit. A funny little snort escaped her, then what must have been a suppressed giggle, then she gave up and laughed outright, tears forgotten.

"Oh Goddess, Tellra. I was afraid of not being able to impress them. I've never impressed anybody in my life, until a couple of days ago, and it scared me. But, you know, I think maybe, if that is what I'm worried about, I don't have a problem."

Tellra eyed her. "My Lady, I think that's a good start, but don't judge all of our women by these. The most proper high lady may be hopeless on a horse, and wicked when it comes to politics. Many of our women are very, very good at playing behind the scenes. But I do think you can loosen up a little out here in the country. I think you have to."

Lobella turned away again and pulled out a cloth to dry her face and try to repair the damage. "Thank you, Tellra. I think I needed this. I don't think I'll do anything too outrageous until after the banquet, but you're right, I can't live this way. Estaldo was trying to tell me that, too. I'm just not used to, to, I don't know. To doing what I think. To making up my own mind. I was always so bad at it."

Tellra laughed lightly. "My Lady, if I may be so bold, I doubt you were as bad at it as they made you think. I truly believe you may grow into your own here, if you let yourself. I know I'm genuinely pleased to have you here, as is Ardrel." She paused for a moment. "When I was a bit younger, I was the despair of my governesses. My older brothers spoiled me terribly. Dorel and I snuck out behind the barn, and he taught me archery. One day my governess came looking for me and I nearly skewered the poor thing."

Lobella surprised herself with a giggle. "My arms instructor was always searching for me in the archives, finding me covered in dust and buried in old volumes of who knows what."

Tellra smiled warmly at her. "It is strange to suddenly be valued for the very things we were disparaged for once. It must be stranger still to find yourself counted skilled at those things you thought yourself hopeless at once." She dimpled as their horses slowly made their way back to the others, ready to head back to the manor house. "I think you will find a place for all your skills and for yourself, and I think the women of Kahlzistan will be very happy for it." She eyed Lady Runderlock clinging desperately to her saddle. "Eventually."

Lobella giggled. "I'm afraid that may be a time in coming. But I do hope you're right."

---

Estaldo found himself nervous as he approached Lobella's dressing room door. He was totally unsure how this evening was going to go. He had barely seen Lobella the past two days. She had joined him in their bed as eagerly as ever last night, but she had seemed distracted after, not interested in talking as they had in the past. What little past they had in this new marriage, anyway. He was afraid tonight would be too much for her, although Tellra and Ardrel, and even Seneea had told him not to worry. That was enough to make him worry more.

Well, it was time, come what may. He sighed, straightened his tunic, and knocked on the door. It was only a moment before Seneea opened it, framing Lobella before him. She was a vision.

It was obvious what had occupied her time recently. The gown she wore was like nothing seen in Kahlzistan before. It was perfectly proper, covering her from neck to wrists to ankles. The bodice was fitted to her slender form, but not so tightly as to be uncomfortable or unseemly. The skirts were layered, and cleverly slit to show the various fabrics, all subtle variations of soft greens and blues. The sleeves flared above the wrists and echoed the layers of the skirts. An elegant train swept behind her as she stepped out to take his arm. Her blue eyes glowed picking up light from the silks she wore. Her hair was curled and pulled up in back, draping down her shoulders and dripping with lapis beads on silver strands. She was exquisite. She was exotic. The dressmakers would be busy for the next few months.

He smiled at his wife, and she smiled back. Something about her spoke a confidence he had only seen from her once, a glimpse in the midst of battle. He supposed she was going to do battle of sorts. "My Lady, Bella, you are beautiful. Shall we go make me the envy of every man in the kingdom?"

Her cheeks colored, but she answered gamely. "Yes, my Prince, let us do so." For a wonder, her head stayed high, and she strode proudly with him down the main stairs and into the ballroom. Emmet announced them formally at the door, and every person in the room turned to look. The crowd parted to form an aisle and he led her past her people. She seemed unsurprised as the people dropped to one knee at their passage. He wasn't sure how she felt about all this, but he hated it. Still, he supposed it was necessary to establish position, if he expected them to obey him later, and later was like to come sooner than he would wish.

They reached the chairs set for them on a small dais, and he guided her to turn and face their guests. She spoke before he could. "Please, ladies and gentlemen, rise and dance. I hear the chef has outdone himself, and the music was lovely as we entered. I look forward to meeting each of you tonight!" She smiled radiantly, and took his hand to seat herself. Bemusedly, he joined her as the music started and the crowd returned to their amusements. The buzz of conversation was a different key than before, and heads turned constantly in their direction. The rumors in the capital over the next couple weeks would be interesting.

The thought brought a grin to his lips just as the first of the forming reception line approached him. The man hesitated uncertainly as Emmet cued Estaldo with his name. "Lord Runderlock. Welcome, and to your wife as well. May I present Princess Lobella."

They bowed and curtseyed deeply, and Lobella greeted them. "Lord Runderlock, I have so enjoyed your wife's company this past few days. I do hope the new wheat crop is living up to your hopes?"

The elderly gentleman was only slightly less startled than Estaldo, and obviously gratified by her interest. Emmet successfully moved him on before he could delve into the further mysteries of wheat farming. The line moved on, and Lobella showed that she had indeed been trained as an ambassador's daughter, however inadequate her family may have felt her to be. Tonight, she shone. She seemed to have some personal snippet of interest about each and every one of them. Estaldo found himself jealous of the ease with which she did it. For all his studies, she far surpassed him.

Finally the line dwindled, and they had a moment to sip wine and speak together. "How did you do it?"

Her eyes twinkled as she glanced at him. "Do what, my Prince?" She nibbled a piece of cheese.

"How did you learn so much about so many people so quickly?" He found himself fascinated with her lips as she finished and answered him.

"You'd be amazed what women find to gossip about, my Prince. One need only listen. One would almost think they were men!" She caught his expression and laughed. "The slaves and courtesans at home gossip terribly, of course. They have little else to do. An ambassador's daughter is trained to refine her memory. It took only some good friends to rouse me from myself enough to pay a bit of attention." Her eyes went to Tellra, dancing with the handsome nephew of the Melderwilts.

"Estaldo, I don't know exactly how things are going to go, but I am determined, from here on, to take an active part in my life." She looked him straight on for a moment. "I want to thank you for the chance to do so. I don't promise anything, but I do want to try. I hope I don't get us dethroned in the process."

Estaldo coughed. "I doubt that, my love. But I don't think the occasional mild scandal will be such a bad thing for these people. You do understand what you've done for your country's silk markets tonight, don't you?"

She looked puzzled, then glanced down at her dress. "You really think so?"

"My Princess, you have started a fashion craze that will sweep the country. It's about time. It is much more attractive than anything in the last couple of decades. I do hope you and your ladies have more such ideas!"

She blushed with pleasure and he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, teasing them gently with his tongue before leading her out to dance with her people.

They danced and greeted people less formally, watching Patrick charm the young women and Ardrel dance with what must have been every male in the place between fourteen and forty. The evening slowly aged and those who lived nearby entered their carriages to roll home, the older guests found their rooms, and the younger danced slower and strolled through the gardens.

Estaldo and Lobella found their way out to the terrace enjoying the cool air. Lobella told him of her plans for the gardens, and he watched her. The musicians started a new piece and he gathered her for another dance. He found another thing he liked about this new dress style. He pulled her close, and the sheer silks did little to hold them apart. Her arms went around him and her body pressed against his softly as they swayed in easy circles together. He breathed deep of the scent in her hair and felt her breasts against his chest. His heart beat a little faster and he ducked his head to taste her neck.

Patrick's tap on his shoulder startled him back to the very public terrace as he pulled away from Bella and let his friend swing her laughing around and around.

Ardrel took his arm and grinned up at him. "Happy to see you two happy again! But I think there's been enough scandal for one night, oh Prince! Time to bid your guests goodnight."

The song ended and he reclaimed his wife, flushed bright with delight. They signaled the musicians to pack up, and saw the end of the party out of the ballroom and up the stairs to their rooms.

The End

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