Prisoner of Silk: An Adult Fairy Tale Retelling (Queen of the Sun Palace Book 1)

by Lidiya Foxglove

“Yes, we cannot have an affront to the king, now can we?” But sarcasm was lost on Countess Noria. “What other rules of the court has the princess been resisting?”

  “Well, she does not like to be dressed and undressed by the ladies of the court. She is a human, so she is very prudish in that regard. And what a fuss she made about wearing the grand corps. You would think we were torturing her.”

  “Ah, that’s easy, then. We’ll forge a note from the court physician suggesting that the princess has a slouch and should be tightly corseted every day. Have a messenger you trust give the note to the king; do not implicate yourself, say you are just passing it along for someone else. The princess will be fatigued and more likely to chafe at her situation. Eventually, of course, they will find out that the note was fake, but she will have suffered for days or weeks before the situation is remedied… No one will think it is anything but a mistake, but it will erode the princess’ fortitude and the respect of your court.”

  “So we shall quite literally squeeze her into submission. Yes. A fitting punishment for a rebellious girl. I would be surprised if she lasts a week. Oh my goodness, imagine if she refused to wear it at all!” The countess looked like she could hardly imagine such a thing.

  The Cobblestone Witch cackled meanly. “To think, what a world, where a princess can be brought down by something so ridiculous.”

  Countess Noria bristled. “It is a serious matter. It isn’t just a corset, it is the very structure of our traditions, for over two hundred years.”

  “Who invented such a thing at all!?” The witch was still chuckling. The very idea was absurd to her. “Go away now,” the Cobblestone Witch said. “I need to be doing my baking.”

  “Well!” Noria was almost speechless. To think, to be sent off like that, not to even be offered any tea.

  Chapter Nine

  Augustus

  Hunting Costume of Faery Noblewoman, c. Reign of King Emriel I

  I traced the color plate with a finger. Rose would look delicious in tight breeches and dashing short cloak like this. And to see her with a bow and arrow—yes, that would please me very well, and it would please her too. If she could ride out on the hunt with me, it would give her a little relief from the court etiquette. This book proved historical precedence for such a thing, which might make a reasonable argument for allowing it…

  My grandfather shoved my library door open and I smacked the book shut and tried to put it away before he would see it.

  Too late. I hadn’t expected him.

  “What rot is that?” He grabbed it out of my hand before I could shelve it. “Off reading when you have that pretty little thing in your bed?”

  “She is having her breakfast,” I said cooly, plucking the book out of his hands. He wouldn’t approve of me taking Rose hunting, I knew. But I was starting to learn how to handle Grandfather. Ignore him and do what you like until he is forced to make a fuss. “Rest assured, I have not gone easy on her.” Our marriage was now a week old, and it took considerable discipline on my part to go through the motions of the day now. Every time I looked at her, so proper in her gowns, eating her dinner or talking to the ladies of the court or listening to music in the evenings, I thought of her in my bed, silk ribbons pinning her there, the sweet smell of her naked skin from her daily perfume bath contrasted to the musk of her wet sex, the soft moans as I fucked her tight sheath.

  I had not expected to enjoy my role so much. But she was so different from the ladies who had been born and bred in the palace.

  And what was her role, exactly? To my grandfather, queens and Favorites alike were toys to be played with. But Queen Marianna was not a toy, but a clever strategist who had twisted her own submission into strength.

  Grandfather looked at me—I was several inches taller than him, and it seemed like he kept expecting to find me still a boy, and getting flustered. “This is a pivotal time for you both,” he said.

  “I am aware.”

  “I’m getting old.”

  “You are old.”

  He grabbed one of my lapels. “Boy, you’d better not consign me to the grave just yet. Today, I am still your sovereign.”

  I paused, giving him patience. He hated this. Grandfather, in his younger days, had been known for having a boundless supply of fire and lust. The moment my father died, when I was five years old, he was forced to take an interest in me because I was now the heir, although I was clearly the least favorite of his grandchildren. If he heard even the slightest whiff that I wasn’t living up to expectations, he would storm into the room and smack me before I knew why.

  I suppose he had gotten what he wanted out of me. I wasn’t a sensitive child anymore. Despite his best attempts to break me, I had grown more confident and more capable of merciless action. I had learned to hold back my thoughts and feelings, and to take what I wanted like a king should. I think sometimes I had even learned to make him nervous.

  “Go on then,” I said. “I suppose you want me to order her to speak to Madame Bariel.”

  “Hmph. No. I don’t give a damn if those two are at odds. Maybe it’s good for Bariel to pout for a bit. She hasn’t had a challenger in too long. Anyway, the affairs of women… Your aunt’s spurring it on. I’m not stepping into it any more. No, I just want to remind you that you need to prepare Marie Rose to be queen. How have things been going in the bedroom?”

  “Fine.” I grabbed another book and pretended to look at it.

  “Just fine?”

  “More than fine.”

  “I’m afraid her treatment of Bariel is the symptom of a larger problem. That the girl has a mind of her own and she’s not afraid to use it.”

  “Queen Marianna certainly had a mind of her own. Rose understands her role. She certainly pleases me.” My cock was stirring just thinking of her.

  But it was true that we were both failing at one duty. She was not learning to hold back or release her pleasure at my command, and I couldn’t bring myself to be angry at her for that. Her body seemed a complicated thing. It would just take time, I thought.

  “Do you want to know how I kept my wife ready?”

  I crossed my arms.

  “You’re young,” Grandfather said. “You’re not used to having a wife. I see you being too polite with her. Remember, she’s yours. Any time the thought of her crosses your mind, she is yours to touch. Lift her breasts out of her bodice and play with her nipples during the evening concert. Slip your hands up her skirts at dinner and stroke her sex. Let her be reminded that she belongs to you. Let everyone see it.”

  The thought of it was both appalling and arousing. But I was a private person; I gave the court what was required of me but I could not imagine doing this for their entertainment. “If she is mine, then I would not want everyone to see her,” I said. “I want her for mine alone.”

  “You’re in the wrong position for that. Your mistress is for privacy. But your pleasure with the princess is for everyone.”

  My face reddened with fury borne of frustration.

  Thank the gods I was not expected to choose a Mistress of Many Loyalties until my grandfather was dead. The mistress I chose would be in the classic fashion; she could choose her own dalliances among all the men of court. I had no interest having a mistress myself. I didn’t even know I wanted a Queen Who Bowed until I set eyes on Rose. But if grandfather was alive to see my reign, his mockery would be merciless.

  “She is my wife, not yours, and I will decide how to handle the matter,” I growled.

  He shrugged. The man didn’t actually like confrontation much. Perhaps too peaceful a reign. “And if the coronation goes wrong, I suppose I’ll be dead, so no matter to me. Now, there is another matter. I’ve had a recommendation from the physician that Marie Rose has a potential fault in her posture and I’ve passed that along to Countess Noria. It’s recommended that she wear the grand corps every day.”

  “How can that possibly be good for her? It bruises her skin! I haven’t seen any fault in her posture.”


  “Physicians see things we can’t. I don’t know, I’m just telling you what I was told and to be frank, regardless of posture, it would do her some good mentally, since she has a tendency toward rebellion. Discipline, that’s the word you have to remember at all times. Discipline, discipline, discipline. As Queen Marianna herself declared, lax rulers mean lax courts, and lax courts mean rebellion.”

  “Discipline…” Yes, I know how much you like discipline, Grandfather. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

  But I probably was more well versed in the writings of the first king and queen of the Sun Palace than Grandfather. I didn’t chafe against the rules. I understood them well. He was the one who had broken the balance, with his cruelty to me as a child, with Madame Bariel, and so many other ways.

  I pulled the book with the hunting costume out again and tucked it under my arm, marking the picture of the queen in her breeches with a note. I handed it to a servant to take to the royal tailors.

  Then I found my wife in her breakfast room. She was alone, writing a letter. Mopsy, newly arrived and appropriately rechristened “Peony”, was standing on the chair next to her, wagging his tail. As soon as she saw me she put down her quill and twisted to look up and behind as I walked up to her chair.

  Everything in this court seemed false. Except her smile.

  I never wanted to do anything that would take that smile from her face. On our journey to the palace, whenever I saw her delight in a new food or a beautiful view out the carriage window, I was taken aback by that unspoiled expression.

  She was wearing a simple pale blue gown today, with lace trimming the sleeves and bodice.

  “Oh dear, I’m supposed to be somewhere, aren’t I?” she said. “I’m trying to write Mother a letter but I don’t know what to say. She told me to write every week. She’s such a prude, I don’t think I can say a thing!”

  “Tell her about the food, that’s always safe. But no, you don’t have to be anywhere. Not yet.” I kissed her soft, slender hand. She had ink on her fingers. I don’t think she liked writing letters much either; her penmanship was also full of spots.

  I reached past the bodice of her dress and lifted the creamy mounds up so her nipples were visible over the edge. I felt her stiffen at my touch, and then relax. Her nipples were stiff little peaks, and I gave them a rough tweak. Her breath quickened in a most gratifying way. I kissed her mouth. “Stay still.”

  I reached over and lifted the hem of her skirt and petticoats, the fabric rustling heavily, and thrust the bulk of it into her arms. Underneath were the two cage-like structures of panniers that supported her skirt at the hips, and her embroidered silk stockings, and her wet slit. I reached down and stroked her there, my hand firm. Her fair cheeks and her curved, delicate human ears were almost as red as her taut nipples as I slipped two fingers inside her while roughly thumbing her clit. She gripped the bundle of her skirts tight. I spread her legs wider with my hands before resuming my work.

  “Augustus…”

  I went slower. “Hold back.”

  “How can I?”

  “Just try your best, my love. Think of something else. Something vaguely unpleasant.”

  “Like what? I can hardly think at all…”

  “A rock in your shoe? Plucking the tiny legs off a shrimp?”

  “Oh, how did you know, I do hate that. But your touch is still so…” Her eyes regarded me, shining with pleasure.

  The door swung open and she tried to cover herself with the skirts. I stopped her, pressing them back into her hand and opening her legs again. “Stay still, I said. Yes?” I asked the young maid.

  The experienced maid did not even blink, naturally. “Count Mercinel is here, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you. Tell him the princess will be right out.”

  The door shut and now I let Rose’s skirts fall.

  “Must I be seen by servants in such a position?” she asked, looking so ashamed that I felt a pang of guilt. I took her hand now and kissed her fingertips.

  “It sends a powerful message to the servants,” I said. “And they are the ones who really shape palace opinion. You know she’ll gossip about it to the other maids, who will leak it back to Madame Bariel, who will be quite aggravated to know that I was pleasuring you at breakfast when no one was even around.”

  “Ohhh.” She touched her freshly-kissed fingers to her lips. “I see.”

  “But I also wanted very much to do it, for no other reason,” I said. “Now I’ll be in my workshop and then I have meetings, so I won’t see you again until dinner.”

  “You must go now?” She fidgeted, and I could see that despite it all, she wanted me to finish what I’d started.

  “Yes. But don’t worry. I’m working on a few surprises for you.”

  I was certainly not opposed to reminding Rose that she was mine, but I would do it my way.

  Chapter Ten

  Rose

  I certainly hoped one of Augustus’ surprises wasn’t the hated corset, because when I went to get dressed for dinner, Countess Noria brought out something very like the grand corps. Except it had no decoration of jewels or diamonds, but was just made of a plain pink fabric with a decoration of very thin ribbons. I hadn’t had to wear the punishing garment in almost a week now.

  “I thought that was only for special occasions!”

  All the women paused like I had just shouted something uncouth.

  “The physician recommended it for your posture,” Countess Noria said. “From now on you will wear this every day. Unless he deems it no longer necessary.” Not only did she sound unsympathetic, but I almost caught a smile.

  “My posture? What’s wrong with my posture?” The thing was coming at me like a torture device and I took a step back. “I can hardly lift my arms when I wear it!”

  “Calm down, your highness!” one of the ladies said, brushing my arm. “Do you want to give Madame Bariel fuel for her fire?”

  Two of the other girls exchanged a quick look like they might just be the ones to set that fire.

  They drew the straps over my arms, pinning them down as always, and yanked the laces. “This is ridiculous,” I said, swallowing a feeling of bitterness.

  Julia gave me a warning look and I knew I had to be quiet.

  The situation was absurd to me. This garment was created to be punishing. They didn’t even try to hide the fact, really. They told me it was an honor to wear it, when clearly it was only meant so I would suffer. I was the only woman who had to wear it at every formal occasion in the first place, but every day was too much. And yet, they had turned any kind of complaint into a dire sin. I was sure this went far beyond the plan for the Queen Who Bowed.

  “Frankly, it is a shame you have so little fortitude, because you look so well in it,” Countess Noria said, as my ladies dressed me in my evening gown. “Your figure is so dainty in the first place.”

  “Yes, Your Highness, like a fashion doll!” one of the young women said encouragingly. This was the Countess of Laxenvel, my Mistress of Perfumes. She meant well, but I sulked a little.

  Leaving the room, I flicked out my fan so I could hide behind it as I strolled out to the dining room. Sadly one could not wave a fan in the middle of dinner. I sat down next to Augustus, trying to remind myself to put on a good face for him. He was the only one I really had to please.

  He saw my eyes and a frown tugged at him.

  Madame Bariel was sitting beside the king, draping herself on his arm, but watching me here and there, as if she knew my struggle and was waiting to see me crack.

  And then there was the Lady of Towers, clearly reading the room and seeing trouble, even if she didn’t know quite what it was about.

  Of course, I barely ate anything, which was all I could eat with all those tiny bones of the corset pressing on me.

  “What is going on?” Sofia asked, with her other sisters gathered behind her, as we gathered afterward in one of the private salons for card games and wine. “Poor little bird,
you look miserable.”

  Encouraged, I told her.

  “Your posture? I can’t imagine. This sounds to me like Bariel’s revenge…”

  “She knows you don’t like wearing the grand corps,” Aunt Victorie said, as if anyone in her right mind would. “She probably told the king you slouch and here we are.”

  “Well, what do I do? I’m dressed by a small army. ‘Madame Etiquette’ over there didn’t give me much choice.”

  The aunt all laughed heartily behind their painted fans.

  “I am the Lady of Towers,” Sofia said. “I stand above ‘Madame Etiquette’. Tomorrow, you must simply refuse to wear a corset at all. You’re so thin, you can easily fit into your dresses regardless. And I won’t wear my corset either.”

  Adelinda and Victorie nodded agreement. “Yes, a united front.”

  “Augustus said I should stay above the rabble,” I said, but I was already excited about the thought. Not wearing a corset at all? That was even better than when I was home. I would feel free as a child again.

  “Even if he feels compelled to tell you to follow the rules, I think deep down he will admire you much more for it,” Adelinda said. “You must understand about rules, child, they are so strict because it makes it all the more fun to break them. That’s how the king ended up with a whore in the first place.”

  It was true, I had been in the Palace of the Sun for over a week now, and it was a strange place I wasn’t sure I understood yet. Everything was so strict, and yet things were allowed that I never would have seen back home. In the dim evening light around the card tables, it was occasionally clear that a man was fondling a woman under the table, and the other day while walking in the garden I had seen a women pressed against the hedge, gasping with pleasure, with a man buried under her skirts.

  There was a fine line between public and private that was firm in Osteria, and quite malleable here. As if we were all meant to glimpse certain things, just as Augustus told me that the servant should see me with him. So perhaps the rules were not always what I assumed them to be. I had not been raised a faery. I should listen to the council of my new aunts.