by Fiona Wilde
Prince Leo smiled broadly. He could not wait to tell his brothers his good fortune and imagined bringing back the bird and giving to Lark, who would reward him with the sweetest of virgin kisses before taking his arm and strolling from the quarters. He imagined his brothers asking, "How did you win her so easily?" He imagined himself smiling and saying, "It's not so hard when you have a way with women...."
He could hardly sleep that night for the excitement. He'd heard the bird outside the castle and planned to be outside before dawn, where he could stealthily track the creature and capture it before it made its getaway into the woods. Leo was an excellent hunter; how hard could it be to catch one silly bird, especially for a man who had brought down stags and wolves in hunts on his own land since he was a lad.
He fashioned a net from some thin rope he got from one of the stable hands, and readied a sack. That night he slept fitfully and was out before first light crept across the castle grounds. When the sky just began to show a tinge of pink, Leo heard the first strains of the bird's song. Lark was right; it was the most beautiful of melodies, and he could understand why she wanted it. He followed the sounds, moving from one topiary to another until he came to a grove of pomegranate trees.
And there it was.
It was still early dawn and light was not fully up, so he could only see the bird in silhouette. Its head was thrown back and its throat vibrated as it warbled out the notes that filled the dawning morning around it.
Leo walked quietly, net at the ready. The sack was tucked into the belt at his side. As soon as he captured the bird he would put it in the sack. What a fine thing it would be to have it back to Lark by the time she awoke. Perhaps she would reward him with more than a kiss. Perhaps she would allow his hands to roam her tiny waist, to grace the swell over her shapely hips...
He was twenty yards away now. He walked quietly, quietly.
Ten yards.
Seven, six, five, four...
He raised the net. The bird was just above his head, a black, singing silhouette.
Three, two..
SNAP!
He looked down for a split second to see he's stepped on a windfall branch. When he looked up again, the silhouette of the bird was zooming across the garden. With a curse he took off after it, keeping his eyes trained on it in the growing light. It landed in a pear tree and cocked its head, its black eye now visible in the ring of white.
"Here, little birdie!" he cajoled. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a piece of dry bread and crumbled it on the ground and stood back and waited. Perhaps the bird would come down, but instead it only plucked at a ripe pear. Leo frowned. If only he'd have thought to bring fruit to entice it, but what fruit could he offer it when everything the bird needed was already here?
The bird, Leo mused, was like the spoiled princesses. Their father, through his indulgence, had set the bar too high for any potential husband to breach. What fruit could any hunter offer when there was a feast before them every day? He would indulge Lark, he told himself, but he would also teach her restraint and appreciation for things that were not gained by the work of others.
He could remember a time, before his father died, when he and his brother had been much like the princesses. They had everything they wanted, too, and it never occurred to them how hunger and want can make a piece of bread seem like a banquet, how the shelter of a cave when a cave is needed can be as comforting as a palace. Tragedy had been their disciplinarian. He would never want to see Lark shaped by tragedy and was more than happy to provide her the needed guidance instead.
But first he had to catch the bird.
He approached the pear tree, but now the bird was onto him. Each time he got closer, it flitted to a branch just outside of reach of his net. It always seemed tantalizingly close, but never close enough to catch.
Leo's frustration grew as the bird continued to move away, and his anxiety increased when he looked up and realized they were nearing the wood. The bird cocked its head and flicked its tail. The wretched thing was toying with him! It was enjoying the chase and making a game of it. Again, like the princess. But he would catch them both and when he did they would find themselves singing a different tune.
He raised the net. He had the thing now; he could feel it. But just as he brought the net down the bird shot from the tree and into the forest.
The chase was on. Leo set his jaw as he ran, keeping his eye on the little bird that weaved through the trees. The edge of the forest was not thick with undergrowth and Leo was in good shape. He ran along through the dappled light of the forest, his focus locked on the bird. He ran fast, his net at his side. He jumped logs, splashed through shallow forest pools. So intent was he on the hunt that he did not realize that the light was fading as trees thickened. Soon he was in an ancient wood where the towering trees blocked most of the sun. He could hear the bird, but could not see it. The thing sounded unusually cheery.
But he noted the some apprehension that his quarry was the only bird he heard. Other than that, the woods were eerily silent. Somewhere he heard what sounded like a low growl and realized with trepidation that he had no weapon, for who goes armed after a tiny bird.
He crept forward quietly, hoping that he would not arouse the interest of whatever else might be in the woods. The bird was preening itself on a branch that was too far above Leo's head for him to reach. But he had a plan. There was a boulder at the base of the tree. Leo tried not to look at it, for he knew this was a smart bird and he did not want to tip it off. Quietly, he counted to three, and on the final number jumped onto the rock, vaulted into the air and brought the net down over the startled bird.
He rolled as he hit the ground and instantly reached into the net. The bird's heart fluttered in its chest and it screamed a high pitched scream as Leo stuffed it into the sack.
"Sssh! Sssh!" Leo said, trying to calm the bird. But the cry was loud and keening. It was just the kind of cry that attracted the kind of thing with yellow eyes that stared out now from between two trees, its lips curled back from its teeth in a menacing snarl.
Leo did not take any more time to ponder the wolf. Instead he began to run. He could hear the beast behind him. It was so close that he fancied he could feel its hot, fetid breath on his heels. He was already tired from running into the forest, but now he had no choice but to tax his sore muscles and run faster to escape the predator that trailed him as doggedly as he had trailed the bird.
The woods were thinning. Leo looked back. The wolf was not deterred. He ran faster, but noted that the animal was not gaining. By the time he burst onto the castle grounds the wolf had all but given up.
Leo was too winded to be relieved, but kept running anyway. He was covered with scratches from where limbs had cut his face and hands. His feet were bruised from running over stones. His close were ripped from where they'd been caught among the thorns.
But he had his bird.
The castle was just beginning to stir when he mounted the stairs two by two and made his way into the rooms he shared with Lark. There was an empty birdcage by the window where she'd kept birds until she tired of them and let them out. But she would not tire of this one.
Opening the sack, he shook the bird into the cage. It hopped onto a perch and glared at him sulkily. It was a beautiful thing, he observed. It wasn't quite as blue as she said; it was more a glossy midnight blue than sapphire. And its tail, while iridescent, was not exactly rainbow colored. But it was the bird and now it was Lark's.
Walking over to her bed, he gently shook her awake.
"Princess Lark," he said. "I have a surprise for you!"
She opened her eyes and smiled. Even tousled from sleep she was gorgeous.
"A surprise?"
"Yes!" he said. "I have gotten you your bird!"
Lark leapt from the bed and jumped up and down excitedly. "Where? Where?"
In the other room, in a cage by the window!
She ran to the room. Leo walked after her, smiling in satisfaction.
He could not wait to see her excited reaction, to feel her kisses, to walk proudly from the suite of rooms with his bride-to-be on his arm.
But she was standing by the cage now, sulking.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"It's not as pretty as it was when I was a child," she said.
He felt his heart sink.
"Sure it is!" he said. "It's a lovely bird!"
"It was more blue," she said. "And its tail was longer and glittered like a rainbow."
"Lark, children see things in a more fanciful way," he said. "The bird you saw was enhanced by childish whimsy. This is the real thing, and while not as pretty as your imagination led it to be, this is better!"
She sighed.
"No it's not."
Then, to Leo's horror, she opened the window, opened the cage and shooed the bird out. It looked back at Leo and winked before flying away.
"No, it's not what I want," she said. "You promised me my heart's desire and I'm afraid that is not it. I cannot marry you."
Leo was slow to wrath, but when he considered what he'd gone through to get this bird for this insipid, outrageous, spoiled rotten princess, he felt fury flare in his breath. Thorns, mud, wolves...
He grabbed her by the arm.
"You spoiled, petulant, ungrateful waif!" he said. "I would tell you what I went through to get that bird for you but it would be a waste of breath because you would not even care. You are incorrigible, Lark, and it is about time you were made accountable for your actions!"
He sat down on a chaise lounge then and pulled up her gown. Lark struggled and shrieked as he peeled down her pantalets to bare her milky white bottom. He had not an ounce of mercy for the girl as he raised his hand and began to spank the firm cheeks, which rapidly reddened under his palm.
Lark squealed and kicked as Leo's hand alternated from left cheek to right cheek with rapid-fire precision. When she tried to twist off his lap, he easily restrained her and moved the spanks lower to just above her thighs and then up again.
Soon her bum was covered in dusky handprints and the spoiled princess Larry was issuing open-mouthed bawls as tears coursed down her face. But still he continued to spank, targeting her firm thighs now as she kicked and wriggled.
When her thighs were red he moved his spanks back up to the middle of her bottom, turning the crest of her cheeks a ruddy, splotchy purple.
Lark went limp over Leo's lap, sobbing apologies.
"You are selfish!" he said. "Do you admit that?"
"I do!" she sobbed.
"That ends today. It is time, young lady, you learned to appreciate people over things!"
He jerked her up into his lap and she squealed as her bottom made contact with his trousers.
"Don't you understand, Lark? You will never understand value until you understand love! You must prize people over things, for things can't love you back. They cannot possibly love you as I do, in spite of your petulant ways. I shall not let you behave in this manner; I will not allow you to remain a greedy shrew!"
Then, to his ultimate surprise, he received his kiss. It was soft and tear drenched, but as sweet as any he could have ever imagined.
"Prince Leo!" Lark said against his mouth. "You've done it! You are the man who can save me from myself. I have found what I needed! You've given my heart's desire, the desire I could never voice!"
So that was it? She'd needed someone to simply guide her away from her greed! Leo kissed her back and an hour later when her tears were dry and her eyes only slightly puffy (which did nothing to diminish her beauty) the couple walked from the room arm and arm.
The fifth prince and secured the fifth princess. Now all that remained was the nuptials...
Chapter Nine
The Royal Weddings
With the Daughters of Elgar now somewhat subdued, it as decided by both their father the king and their future husbands that the nuptials should take place as expediently as the realm could manage.
"I would advise a joint wedding," the king told the Sons of Randor as they sat in the great hall in their first break from the five fiery princesses.
"Will they not object?" asked Leo, thinking that if any princess would balk at not having her own special day it would be his cosseted Lark. The youngest daughter of Elgar had gotten over her spanking soon enough and turned her attention to planning a lavish ceremony complete with a golden carriage drawn by six horses covered in silver dust.
"Let them," the king said firmly. "You lads have done an admirable job of taming my headstrong girls. In all honesty I thought it could not be done. However, do not forget that without a continuation of that firm hand, you may yet find yourself waging battle in your own home."
Kier, the eldest, nodded thoughtfully.
"He's right, brothers," he said. "It would indeed be wise to marry together and soon. Let our future wives protest, but only to a point. Should they turn disrespectful, we shall redden their bottoms until they remember who is master."
He looked at the faces of his siblings. "Agreed?"
"Agreed," the brothers said in unison.
Ever the leader, Kier took the news to his betrothed. Hot-tempered Lenora said the decision did not matter to her one way or the other, but warned Kier that her sisters might not feel the same way.
"That is why I've come to you," he said as they sat across from each other in her private room. "I want you to break the news to your sisters."
Now the embers of Lenora's temper began to spark.
"You and my father take the planning of our wedding day away from us and you expect me to be the one to endure my sisters' umbrage?"
Lenora stood. "No," she said.
"Lenora!" Kier was on his feet now. "This is my wish!"
She glared at him and crossed her arms.
"We are not married yet," she said coolly. "And if you think a few spankings - painful though they were - will transform me into some passive fool then you are wrong. Exactly why should I be the one to tell my sisters of your decision?"
Kier, being a reasonable prince, knew now was not the time to force Lenora's hand. He was sure that opportunity would present itself again and again. But there is more than one way to lead a woman, and sometimes reason is the best path.
He approached her and, looking into her eyes, took her hands in his.
"You are to be queen one day, Lenora. And I am to be king. Being exiled from my kingdom has been good in some ways. It has forced me to lead my brothers, which means making decisions at times they do not agree with. It is much the same when running a kingdom. Until now, you and your sisters have gotten all that you want for the asking. What reason do you have to disagree with them? Or to go against them and lead?"
He paused. "You are right. I cannot command you to do this thing. But I can ask, and tell you that I believe it is in line with the expectations I will place on you when we rule together."
"Together?" she asked, her voice both hopeful and skeptical.
He nodded.
"How can you say that when you believe you have the right to spank me as a child?"
"Because, Lenora," he said patiently. "While the kingdom may answer to both of us, you will always answer to me."
He reached down and boldly squeezed her bottom. Her eyes, which boldly had been holding his, were cast downward and she blushed. But she did not push his hand away. In fact, she found she rather liked the decisive manner of this man she was to marry.
"Do you understand?" he asked.
"I do, my prince," she said.
He kissed her on top of the head then, gently, and in a way that she found charming. Lenora longed to return the kiss on his lips but instead curtseyed and stood watching as he left the room.
As soon as he was gone, she wondered two things. What had gotten into her, and how was she going to tell her sisters the news.
II
Within days the entire kingdom was abuzz with the news. The five princesses, the daughters of Elgar, were going to be married. And all at
once. How fine! How joyful!
Bakers began molding cookies and cakes in the shapes of his and her crowns. Merchants were deluged with orders for new dresses for the upcoming nuptials. Gentleman headed to the tailors to be fitted for new suits. Farmers began searching their herds and flocks for the finest beasts to offer up for the wedding table.
But in the castle, the mood was not so celebratory. As she had suspected, Lenora's message was not at all well-received by her sisters whose reaction ranged from indignation to tears.
"I should not have to share my day!" wailed Lark, as if she were the only one of the sisters getting married.
"It won't be so bad," Lenora soothed. "In fact, won't it be grand to all celebrate our day together?"
"Is that you talking, or are you just doing the bidding of your future husband?" Fiona's tone was biting. Lenora could not help but gasp.
"How could you?" she asked. "Do you doubt my loyalty to you, my sisters?"
The other sisters fell silent as the two eldest faced down one another.
"Is it really so cynical when you come to do his bidding like a well-trained hound?" Fiona shot back.
Lenora's face flamed with anger and she approached her sister with a thunderous expression. But Fiona did not back down. Instead she stood until the two of them were toe to toe.
"I should..." Lenora began, but Fiona cut her off.
"You should what?" Fiona asked coldly. "Have your husband banish me to the tower once you're married?"
A well of tears sprung up in Lenora's eyes, drowning her burning anger. Was her sister right? Was she selling them out because she wanted to be queen?
"I would never do that," she said, her voice shaking. The other sisters were silent now. It was rare to see a display of weakness on Lenora's part.
The eldest sighed. "Like it or not, it's been decided that this is how it is to be. We can either refuse to marry and endure what will likely be more strict discipline, or we can choose our battles and realize that in the interest of a lifetime, sacrificing what we want for one day will not make that much of a difference."
