Tales of Enchantment 2: The Quest

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by Kai Andersen




  Praise for the writing of Kai Andersen

  Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty

  The Question of Royalty is a nicely written story that lovers of prince and princess stories who get a happy ending will enjoy… Kai Andersen did a great job writing a compelling tale that will make readers want to read more of her work.

  -- Claudia Maldonado, The Road to Romance

  Ms. Anderson does a fine job in taking the idea of the fairy tale and making it into an erotic tale. She is able to keep the whimsical qualities of a fairy tale and imbue them with the sexy story content that brings it a unique and very readable twist.

  -- Kim, Coffee Time Romance

  This story was surprisingly hot, enough so that Kai Andersen will be added to my auto-buy erotic list... I'd recommend Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty on both the romance and erotic scenes, and especially on how well the relationships were shown between characters.

  -- Tara Black, The Romance Studio

  I thought it was very interesting, and enjoyed reading it.… It’s fun to read, and wonder what the queen will do next!

  -- Jean, Fallen Angel Reviews

  I very much enjoyed Kai Andersen's Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty. I looked around Ms. Andersen's website since she is a very promising new author and am happy that her next book in this series will focus on Giselda. I can't wait!

  -- Miaka Chase, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty is now available from Loose Id.

  TALES OF ENCHANTMENT 2: THE QUEST

  Kai Andersen

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book is rated:

  For explicit sexual content and graphic language.

  Tales of Enchantment 2: The Quest

  Kai Andersen

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © May 2005 by Kai Andersen

  Excerpt of The Rea Cheveyo Chronicles: Kiana copyright May 2005 by Rayne Forrest

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 1-59632-113-X

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Linda Kusiolek

  Cover Artist: Angela Knight

  www.loose-id.com

  Chapter One

  Rodin’s hands clenched. He controlled them with difficulty, for they ached to connect with the bounder’s face.

  Crown Prince Michael of Ermont and Princess Giselda of Mithirien were strolling in the massive castle gardens, laughing and talking. She appeared to be hanging on his every word, her eyes intent on his face. She smiled and laughed at everything he said, as if he were the wittiest man on earth. She didn’t even object when the prince’s eyes roved lasciviously over her body and lingered on her breasts. What was worse, she accepted his touch, allowing him to stroke her face or hold her hand for far too long.

  She was a princess! She was not supposed to allow any man but her husband such liberties!

  Or her betrothed, Rodin admitted with a harsh sigh. Not that there was any formal announcement, but the princess’s every action screamed her preference.

  He saw red when the prince’s hand remained on her arm and his head descended toward that pink bow of a mouth ...

  A plump breast pressed against his arm. “Rodin? I thought we were ... you know ...”

  The low, husky voice jarred his concentration. Rodin looked down into inviting dark eyes as lips the color of blood turned up toward him. The urge to spy on the princess had had him dragging the nearest downstairs maid out of the castle and into a copse of trees, where overhanging branches had given him the perfect cover.

  “I am waiting ...” The husky voice continued as she ran her fingers up his arm. “A kiss ... maybe more ...” The last word held a faintly questioning note.

  Rodin glanced once toward the princess. She was engaged in a full-blown kiss with the man of her choice. Disgust and fury and helplessness swamped him. With a smothered exclamation, he backed the maid against the sturdy tree trunk and his mouth crashed down on ruby-red lips.

  Giselda came to her senses when Michael pressed his lips more insistently against hers. Not that it wasn’t pleasurable, but ...

  “The servants are watching, Michael!” She pushed against him.

  The predatory light in his eyes scared her. Excited her.

  “Who cares? They wouldn’t dare to say anything.”

  She dodged away from him. “They gossip horribly.”

  “What’s a kiss?” He lunged toward her and caught her in his arms. He bent her backward so that she had no choice but to grab on to his arms to keep from falling. “They’ve seen lots of that between your brother and his wife.”

  Her breath came in short gasps. His thumb was wreaking havoc where it caressed the underside of her left breast through her dress. Her skin was tingling, and she wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was right. She felt ... weird. Strange. Exhilarated. Confused. Moreover, so many eyes were on them. Her position also kept her at a disadvantage, and she didn’t like that.

  “We are not married!”

  “We will soon be.”

  “Will we?” It irked her that Michael had not yet popped the question. Nor had he requested a private audience with her father. He seemed to take it for granted that she would marry him.

  Maybe he was waiting for the tournament to be over before he asked.

  Pleased with that conclusion, Giselda contented herself with the thought that he wanted her. Well, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her body.

  “How about if I show you a place where we can continue?” Uncertainty and surprise flickered in Michael’s eyes, and she pressed on. “Someplace where there are no prying eyes, someplace where we wouldn’t be disturbed ...”

  He released her. She could feel the reluctance in his arms, but the thought of privacy was a great lure. His head swooped down for a swift kiss. “Lead on, my great beauty. I can’t wait until I have you in my arms again.”

  “That is --” She slanted him an impish smile. “-- if you can catch me.”

  She danced out of reach and laughed as she raced down the path. She sensed Michael’s initial surprise, and then she heard his pounding footsteps behind her. She ran past waist-tall azalea shrubs, rosebushes, and rhododendrons. The wind blew hard against her face, teasing her hair and lifting her skirts. Elation swamped her.

  Michael was attracted to her; he wanted her; he was going to make her his bride!

  She was going to be queen!

  Sheer joy rushed through her.

  Giselda laughed as she ran, giggling as Mic
hael’s longer legs caught up with her and his arm snaked around her waist. He whirled her until she grew dizzy.

  Helpless tears slipped past her eyes. She could not seem to stop laughing. “Stop! Stop!”

  He enfolded her within his arms, his forehead resting against hers. Both of them were panting. “My ... reward?”

  “A ... kiss?”

  “Not enough.”

  “What --”

  “How about your room ... tonight?”

  Excitement swirled through her. Michael had never suggested anything so improper. His advances had always been kept to stealing a kiss here and there. Never had he suggested something ... something like this, something so wild and thrilling and ... indecent. She should be shocked, and the princess in her was. The woman in her was in turn exhilarated and anxious to know The Secret.

  She had heard of many things that men do to women in bedchambers -- and sometimes not in bedchambers -- but she hadn’t really seen it, nor experienced it. She wanted to know what the fuss was all about. She wanted to know what it was that had held her stepbrother so in thrall that he had gone through all the castle maids and the women in the village. Well, that was before he married. And somehow, she didn’t think she wanted to wait until her wedding night to satisfy her curiosity, unless tonight was her wedding night . Anyway, Michael was going to be her husband soon ...

  Giselda was about to reply, when something caught her ear. At first she thought it was the hard pounding of her heart. But when it came again, she was sure. It was a moan. A low, feminine moan.

  “I’ll show you things you’ve never --”

  “Shh.” She pushed against him. “I heard something. Someone may be hurt.”

  “But you haven’t answered me yet --”

  “Keep quiet.”

  Her sharp ears caught the low sounds. They seemed to be coming from the trees some feet away to the right. She noted in a distracted way that their retainers had stopped a good distance from them, presumably to give them some privacy.

  As she walked toward the grove of trees, the moans became mixed with sighs and whimpers. Increasingly perplexed, she pushed aside the branches with some trepidation as she forayed deeper into the green foliage.

  “Hello? Is anyone hurt --”

  Shock rendered her speechless. And immobile.

  Dim sunlight filtered through the dense leaves.

  The woman’s head was pressed against the tree trunk, her eyes closed and her mouth half-opened as she panted and moaned as if in pain. Her dress was pulled down from the neck, exposing her dark skin. The man’s mouth was fastened to a dark globe and made sucking motions as his hand disappeared under the woman’s skirt. Giselda watched, fascinated, as the woman splayed her hand blatantly against the front of the man’s trousers.

  Even with his back to her, Giselda knew who it was.

  Time seemed to stop. She heard nothing but harsh breathing and the hard pounding of her heart.

  Rage filled her, a rage that demanded release.

  She screeched with all the fury that welled up inside her. “Stop! Stop it!” When the couple appeared to ignore her, she forcibly pulled Rodin away from the woman. “How dare you -- you -- you engage in such acts in front of me!” she spluttered.

  The woman opened her eyes and dropped to her knees, her whole body trembling. “Your -- Your Highness.” One hand pulled up her dress in desperate movements.

  The terror in her voice appeased some of Giselda’s fury, but Rodin’s mocking voice brought it all back.

  Green eyes taunted her. “Well, well, if it isn’t Her Royal Highness herself. Want to join in the fun?”

  “I would never demean myself!”

  “Then why interrupt us?” His voice was silky smooth. “If you don’t mind ...”

  “How dare you talk to me like that? I said ‘no’ and I mean ‘no’!” Giselda tried to push him farther away from the kneeling woman, but he was like a stone statue glued to the ground. “I am the princess, and I expect to be obeyed!”

  “You are seriously taxing my patience, Your Highness.” His eyes gleamed, and a feral smile graced his lips. “I’m not seducing you, so I don’t know why you’re protesting so much.” An unholy light came into his eyes. “Or perhaps that’s the reason for your protests? You want me to seduce you instead?”

  His words were like a shot of cold water to her system. Was that what she wanted? For him to seduce her? Why were Rodin’s actions affecting her so much?

  Giselda stopped pushing against him. She glared at him with dislike. “Go! Do your dirty act away from my sight!”

  Rodin brought her up sharply against him. She could feel every inch of his hard body, and there was one especially hard portion nudging the juncture of her thighs. “We’ll see what you’re calling dirty when your precious prince sticks his dick into you!”

  Giselda’s face flamed. “I’ve tolerated your insolence long enough, Rodin! Just because you’re Frederick’s friend, you think you can get away with anything. Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I am the princess of this land, and I can have you beheaded. You are only the --”

  Rodin cut her off. “I know what I am, princess. Believe me, I have never been more aware of what I am than in this moment.” He set her down slowly. “But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll mind your own business.” He pulled the other woman up. “I believe my lady and I have some unfinished business. If you will excuse us, Your Highness.” He sketched her a small bow and, scooping the woman up in his arms, strode out of the grove.

  Giselda felt like she’d wandered into the path of a fierce storm and was still trying to fight her way out. She suddenly lost all sense of direction.

  “Giselda?”

  Michael’s voice provided a much-needed lifeline. Yes, she should not forget that she was this close to being the queen of Ermont. She should not do anything to jeopardize that. No, nothing was worth the throne and the crown.

  “Giselda?”

  “Michael?”

  “Are you all right?” Familiar arms surrounded her. She rested her head against his hard chest.

  “Yes.” She drew in a deep breath. “About tonight ...”

  “Yes?”

  “I expect to see you.”

  Chapter Two

  “I am really grateful for all these, Serena.” Giselda waved a hand at the scene in front of them. “You didn’t have to do this, at least not so soon after your honeymoon.”

  Her stepbrother, Frederick, and his new bride had left immediately after the wedding for their honeymoon tour. They’d returned home after a month of bliss, and Giselda was immediately struck with envy at seeing the radiant glow on their faces. Serena, however, had seen the score of suitors Giselda had acquired and had thrown herself into organizing a tournament to test their skill and mettle. For the past two weeks, there had been archery contests, physical endurance tests, strategy games, general knowledge exams, and a jousting event. Giselda was pleased that Michael had so far proved himself superior in every round.

  Now, it was the final round. They were at the arena set up a few days ago to accommodate the candidates’ jousting matches. Two combatants astride their horses would charge at each other with their lances at the ready. Whoever was unseated would be out of the game. The winner would then go on to challenge the next candidate on the list.

  “It was no trouble, Giselda.” Serena smiled at her, her green eyes glowing under the late afternoon sun. “You deserve it.”

  Her new stepsister-in-law was so kind, it was sometimes sickening. But Giselda couldn’t deny the warmth she felt for her or that familial relations had improved since Serena entered their lives. At times, she caught herself worrying over Serena’s excessive kindness, afraid that some unscrupulous person might take advantage of it. Then she’d realize she need not worry, for Frederick was so besotted with his wife that he hardly let her out of his sight.

  “Thanks anyway.”

  The cheering throng drew their gaze to the last pair of combatant
s facing each other across the field. Their horses were pawing the ground, eager to charge. Here and there, brightly colored paper flags and banners waved among the stands of spectators. The huge number of people contributed to the festive air, as they followed with religious devotion the performance of each suitor vying for the hand of their princess in marriage.

  “Cool, refreshing lemonade for you, sweet.” Frederick handed an ice-cold glass to Serena as he sat down. He indicated the other glass in his hand. “Want one, Giselda?”

  She sniffed. “I’ll have my own personal slave to serve me pretty soon.”

  Serena grinned.

  Frederick laughed. “Let your brother have that privilege for now, then.”

  Giselda plucked the glass out of his hand. “Thanks.” She tipped the glass to her lips and drank.

  “He’s sure to win, you know.” Frederick inclined his head toward the center of the arena where the jousting had begun.

  “Of course he is.”

  “I mean Rodin.”

  Giselda refused to think of the incident yesterday. “What do you mean? He’s not one of the candidates --”

  “I would bet that the person battling Prince Michael there right now is Rodin,” Serena interjected dryly.

  Giselda’s horrified eyes flew to her brother. “Oh, no! Why would he do that?”

  “Not out of any high regard for you, so don’t worry.” Frederick shot her a look she couldn’t decipher. “But because I asked him to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to give my sister to the man who is worthy of her.”

  “Thank you, Frederick.” Giselda barely managed to say through gritted teeth, her eyes on the scene in front of her. One of the candidates teetered on top of his horse as the opposing lance glanced his ribs. She sucked in a breath. “He is going to lose!”

 

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