No Rest for the Prince's Virgin

by Morgan King

  ****

  In the hall tables had been laid, but no one was seated. A podium was being moved in front of the high table, and a set of stairs being pushed over to lead up to it. Some form of announcement was going to be made.

  Katrine stood waiting, along with Helen and the three other ladies, Ruth, Rhiana, and Lynette, who had helped her in putting the kitchen gardens to rights both in the morning and after lunch.

  The female companionship was very welcome. It was what she was used to at the convent. Katrine didn’t mind her own company, but sharing a common purpose was fulfilling and also a useful distraction from thoughts of the prince.

  Lunch had been all too brief, and although once again she had sat near to Wilhelm, there had been no opportunity for private conversation, just plenty of heated looks. Katrine had not yet joined Wilhelm this evening as he had appeared deep in conversation with his parents when she entered the room.

  Katrine wondered what the king might have to say. Since she had arrived there had been no formal announcements. Perhaps it had something to do with the road being fixed and the guests going home. Perhaps this would be the last night of festivities. Would Wilhelm ask her to marry him again before she attempted to return home?

  “If I could have your attention please.” The king’s voice rumbled across the room like the sound of thunder.

  “Thank you.” The king’s voice was lowered from a shout to a deep projection once the room was quiet. “On behalf of all my family, I would like to express our gratitude for the patience you have shown, and the assistance you have given us in putting things to rights following the great storm of two nights ago.”

  He paused to take a drink. “I am pleased to say that, while we have much work still to do, the main road is fit for travelling once more, and the clear weather seems to be holding.”

  A cheer went up at this pronouncement. “I knew some of you would be keen to get home!” The king allowed laughter to ripple back through the room before continuing. “Suffice to say the celebrations the queen and I planned to help our son find a wife have not turned out as we expected. They have, however, given us a unique opportunity to get to know better our friends and neighbours. The storm has presented unique challenges, and for us this has been an opportunity to see how all those present have responded, as well as to add our own tests.”

  Katrine looked at the faces around her to see if they knew of what the king spoke.

  “Yes, we have been testing you.”

  Everyone stared avidly at the king. From the look on many of the nobles’ faces he might as well have issued a challenge at that very moment.

  “We have watched you while you worked and even tested you while you slept.”

  Gasps and grumbles could be now be heard, but no one objected outright. The king held even potential rivals in his thrall, the confidence of leadership evident in the way he delivered his speech. He did not stumble over words, and he paused to give meaning as he looked many a man and woman in the eye.

  “Responses to hardship reveal much about character. We have interviewed our staff to see how you have treated them, and we have noted those who have helped. Apparently it was observed that I could have worked harder yesterday afternoon, and that my nap today lasted twenty minutes longer than that any of the ladies’.”

  A few chuckles broke out leading the way for others to start laughing, relieving some of the tension in the room. Katrine wasn’t the only one not quite sure how to take the king’s words. Was he making fun of his guests? He seemed to be getting way with sharing the joke with them. It was possible he was just a little crazy, Katrine reflected.

  “It was not our intention to offend anyone with any of these actions, but as many of you will know when responsible for a kingdom it is important to know the quality of those you allow in.”

  He spoke for both himself and the Queen, but Katrine thought it wise that he was the one speaking, providing the queen with a little distance from their actions.

  “I am pleased to say that we wish to recognise and reward those who have excelled themselves.” The crowd waited expectantly as the king paused before continuing. “Firstly Jason Sterling.”

  There was a shuffling of bodies as people tried to spot the man of whom the king spoke.

  “Come forward, lad.”

  Katrine stretched up on her toes to try to see who stepped forward. As people parted ahead of her she saw a head with a mop of curly russet red hair making its way to the dais where the king spoke. A young lad indeed, unless he was a short man, for he barely matched height with many of the ladies in the room. He knelt at the king’s feet.

  The king rested his hand on the boy’s head before speaking. “Jason here has excelled himself this week. He has worked hard, and not just to help us clear the road. After the rest of us were finished each day, he has not come inside to rest or enjoy the festivities with us. No, Jason has been in the stables helping with the extra work created by housing so many animals there. My stable master tells me that he was even in there on the night of the storm helping to calm the animals.”

  “Well done, lad!” someone called out.

  “Well done indeed.” The king took his hand from the lad’s head and bending down took hold of one of the boy’s elbows to help him rise. “Many of you will know that Jason is the youngest son of Lord Omar. The youngest of twelve, and with an uncertain future … ‘til now.”

  The king paused, and the boy looked up at him with adoration in his eyes. “Jason will be joining us in our household. He will be squire to my son, and if he does not wish to be a knight he shall apprentice to my stable master. What do you say, boy?”

  Jason appeared truly speechless, his mouth hanging slack.

  “I think we must assume it is a yes, father.” Wilhelm answered for the boy, grabbing him under the arms and hoisting him up to sit on his shoulders. The boy’s face shone with his happiness as someone in the audience started clapping. The room was soon filled with claps, cheers, and the odd whistle of approval.

  Katrine clapped enthusiastically, swept up in the excitement of the moment, only slowing her hands when the sound of individual applause could be heard.

  The king cleared his throat loudly before resuming his speech. “And that is not all, my fine friends! The greatest test was also the smallest.” He held up something in one hand, but it was too small to see what. “Under your beds we have placed peas, to see who would notice them, who might complain.”

  Mad, definitely slightly mad, Katrine thought.

  “There is one amongst us who has not just helped, but taken the initiative to do so. Who was sensitive enough to have her sleep affected by the pea under her bed, but too polite to complain.”

  A suspicion began to creep into Katrine’s mind.

  “Yes, I am sure you all know of whom I talk. Our guest from lands afar, the Lady Katrine.”

  Somewhere in the audience a voice could be heard speaking in a loud whisper. “She is no Lady.” The feminine tone of the voice was decidedly bitter and soon drowned out as the king spoke again. “If everyone where the Lady Katrine comes from is half so noble as she it is a land and a people we would be wise to become better acquainted with. Come stand beside us, Katrine.”

  Katrine hesitated, needing a gentle push from Helen to propel her forward. Having all eyes on was becoming a familiar, if not quite welcome, sensation.

  As Jason had done she knelt before the king. The warmth of his hand on her head was a blessing, an acceptance, welcomed by her soul.

  “Rise.”

  Katrine came to her feet, raising her eyes to the king.

  “In gratitude for the example you have set we wish to offer the Lady Katrine lifelong hospitality.” Turning to look directly at Katrine the king said to her, “Whenever you are in Lerrendor, you will have every comfort we can offer at your disposal, for we know you will appreciate the worth of the work that goes into looking after another. And, as a token of our appreciation...”

  The king
gestured to Prince Wilhelm, who had lifted Jason off his shoulders, and now came to stand in front of Katrine. He drew a long slim leather box from his pocket lifting the top half to reveal the contents to Katrine.

  She let out a gasp, bringing one hand to cover her mouth, her astonishment no less immediate than that shown by Jason.

  In the box lay a string of the most beautiful pearls, their shimmering surface reflecting the colours of the rainbow.

  To be close to such beauty!

  Katrine stood, rooted like a tree, only the minute natural sway of her body saving her from being a statue. She did not move as the prince lifted the necklace, snapping the box shut and slipping it into his pocket. She did not breathe as he lifted the pearls over her head. She did nothing but wonder as he lifted the heavy weight of her hair and the smooth-as-polished-silver beads settled against her skin.

  The prince whispered to her as he moved behind her, presenting her to the room. She felt the weight of his hands on her hips and the necklace at her neck. “Nothing will disturb your sleep from now on but me. There is a ring to match this necklace, and when we are alone I will kneel to place it on your finger, if you let me.”

  Katrine’s chest rose and fell as she struggled to take in oxygen. The sound of clapping rang in her ears, allowing her softly spoken response to travel only as far as the prince, despite the fact she still faced forward. “I will. In as much as my will is still my own, I fear it sits in the palm of your hand.”

  “Do not fear,” the prince said as he squeezed her hip. “I will hold you safe, my princess.”

  Chapter Six

  That night the prince came to her room while she sat in front of her dressing table, brushing her long, dark hair. The length required that she do it in sections, holding it up at the midway point in order to reach down to the ends. She continued drawing the brush through the strands she held, watching the prince approach in the mirror, waiting to see how he would proceed.

  He came up behind her and held out his hand for the brush. Moving the tresses back behind her shoulders she gave it to him.

  “Beautiful, I’ve never seen hair so beautiful.”

  Katrine didn’t answer. She was lost in the sensation of someone grooming her. Each time the brush pulled through her hair, nerve-endings in her scalp tingled.

  “Shall I tell you what I see when I look at you in the mirror?” the prince asked.

  Katrine expected it to be some commentary on her features. She was used to people remarking on her eyes. The intense shade of green made her gaze seem very direct, so much so that she suspected it made some uncomfortable.

  “I see a remarkably brave woman, not afraid to experience life. Not many would have struggled through the elements to meet their destiny, not knowing what it might be.”

  His words were a flattering surprise, and he did not stop there.

  “I like that I see honesty in your eyes. They reveal your emotions and your passionate nature. Never cast your eyes away from me.”

  With the hand not holding the brush he reached around her to tilt her chin up so their eyes met in the mirror.

  “And your mouth, well, your mouth features in my every fantasy.” So saying, he spun her round to bring their mouths together.

  When he released her, he dropped to one knee, as earlier he had promised he would. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a ring. He lifted it, so that she had no trouble seeing the pearl circle that looked as if it had somehow been shaped into strands then woven back together. He looked at her intently. “Are you ready to give me your heart?”

  She had given him her virginity. Did he not know she had already placed her heart wrapped in layers of trust in his hands? “My heart is yours. If you drop it, it will break.”

  “I will never drop it. I could never hurt you, body or soul.”

  Katrine held out her hand, and he slipped the cool band on, his touch gentle with a firm push at the end, as if to assure himself it was lodged firmly. He had her heart, her will, even her body, which she hoped he would soon take again. However he would have to delve deep in order to find her soul.

  “Your heart I will lock safe away with mine.” The prince offered promises Katrine had always longed to hear. “Your body is a gift I treasure. I wish to polish its shine. Will you let me do whatever I please with it to give you pleasure?”

  “What is it you wish to do, something sinful?” Katrine wasn’t sure what his version of sinful might be. As a girl who spent much of her time in a convent she probably couldn’t even begin to imagine what he might be thinking. And here, in a land that seemed to be straight out of a fairy tale, she had a feeling it would be extra dark and extra delicious.

  “Your hair inspires me.” His words were accompanied by his right hand pulling a fistful of the strands into the air then letting them fall, catching the light as they did so.

  “My hair? You may play with it as you like.”

  “Really? Even if I was to tell you I wish to bind you with it? Have you restrained by your own body and completely at my mercy, so that I might take my time searching for your soul.”

  He already understood her so well, saw the desires locked within her. The need to share her mind and soul with him, not just her heart and body. “How could I say no to that?”

  “Don’t say no. If there is anything you don’t like enough that you want me to stop, then say something else. You might be tempted to say no and not really mean it.”

  For a moment, there was a seriousness to Wilhelm’s tone that seemed deeper than his intrinsic authority. Katrine took what he said equally seriously. “Very well, what shall I say?”

  “‘Free me.’” Wilhelm said. “If you say those words, I shall set you free.”

  Katrine didn’t want to be set free. Not this night or in the morning. Not ever. She was under a spell—may it never break.

  “Come, lie down on the bed.”

  Katrine followed the prince’s instructions, loving every time he communicated his desire to her. She lay down, propped upon one elbow, watching curiously as he took a selection of items from her dresser.

  “A little more in the centre please.” Wilhelm knelt beside her on the bed. “You look so beautiful laid out before me. I feel more a prince when I look on you than when I survey the lands I will rule one day.”

  As he spoke Wilhelm played with her hair. He had pulled half to one side, and from his movements Katrine guessed he was braiding it. “You are the brightest treasure I have ever seen. I most certainly don’t want you getting away. Even with the kingdom’s ring on your finger I will not feel safe ‘til our promises have been sworn to the heavens above and earth below.”

  He moved to stand as he worked his way down the length of her hair. When he reached the ends he took one of the ribbons he had picked up from her dresser and tied it around where the three interwoven strands came together as one.

  Katrine had never has so much attention lavished upon her. She felt the peace often bestowed by ritual.

  The prince walked round to the other side of the bed, his eyes never leaving her body, as if it was indeed the treasure he proclaimed it. On the other side the process was repeated, until once again a long plait lay parallel to her body. She would happily sacrifice her body to this pleasure, and this was just the beginning. Her body was hungry for further touch.

  “Do you know what fascinates me?” He did not wait for her answer. “Things that are beautiful but that also have purpose, a function in life. Things that manage to combine beauty and use, so that their very place in the world helps explain nature. Your hair, so beautiful, is now the most useful of rope.”

  The prince took up the first braid and proceeded to wrap it around the post of the bed nearest. It was long enough to go around first this post then its partner at the foot of the bed before finally being secured to her foot. Pulling towards the other side of the bed Katrine tested the resistance of her bonds. It held firm. When the other side became a mirror image she was securely held in
a silken web.

  “You have one choice left to you. Would you like to see what else I have planned, or do you think you would like to be blindfolded?”

  Katrine was reminded of the ladies playing hide and seek the other day. One person alone left to close their eyes and count, while everyone else ran off to hide. Each one trying to find somewhere where they would be most alone. In the quiet, dark. Waiting silently for someone to find them. If they were alone a long time they might begin to long to be found. For someone to find them with a touch.

  If the prince was to blindfold her eyes it would not just be dark, because she had shut her eyes. She would be unable to open them and search out light. She would have to wait for his touch to reassure her she was not alone. He might leave her and she would not know how far he had gone if his retreating footsteps became too quiet. His touch when it came would magnified by the lens of anticipation. Katrine longed for that touch. “You will be my guide?”

  Surely the prince would not have suggested it if it were not something he, too, would enjoy.

  “You are in no danger, but yes, I will guide you to pleasure.”

  “Then cover my eyes.” Katrine closed her eyes in preparation. With them shut she already felt less self-conscious. Free to indulge in her pleasure without inhibition. She could not see what was wrapped around her head and tied to one side, but it felt soft.

  “Perfect.”

  The moment was perfect. Katrine was cradled within the most perfect moment of her life.

  ****

  Wilhelm stepped back to admire the work of his hands. He could not feel more pride had he just painted a masterpiece. He was not finished though. She was not just his art but also his muse, and there was so much he wanted to do to her. Blood flowed thick and fast through his veins as each thought took root in his cock.

  He took the quilt that now lay discarded on the floor by the foot of the bed. The weather had become milder, and the room easily retained the heat of the fire. Taking the knife from his belt he nicked the outer material near the corner, creating a small tear. From within he pulled out a fistful of feathers, sifting through them to find one large enough for his purposes. He held the single feather firmly between forefinger and thumb, separating out the fine white strands with his other hand.