I tried to stifle my laughter.
“Well, go and serve them food and drink at once,” I said.
“Done, Your Majesty,” said Emlin. “The Captain of the Queen’s Guard begs you to remember him.”
“Does he?” I asked, unrolling the parchment. As if I could ever forget him. Oh, I almost laughed recalling the times I’d had with the Captain of the Queen’s Guard in Queen Eleanor’s realm, and to think he was here, that robust and commanding individual who’d often disciplined me and scolded me and threatened me as he had the most abject of his slaves.
I opened the letter, passing rapidly over all the titles and blandishments to the heart of the matter . . .
“. . . our fervent hope that you and your beloved Queen Beauty may consent to receive and rule the kingdom as Queen Eleanor long ago decreed.”
I took a deep breath.
“Wake my beloved below,” I said to Emlin. “Bring her to me. And tell my guests that we will attend them shortly. They’re most welcome under our roof.”
My pulse was throbbing. In a jarring flash I saw the mysterious female figure once more and heard her voice. Then she was gone.
I looked again at the letter. “. . . that surely you will preserve the custom of naked pleasure slavery which has made the kingdom a legend throughout the world.”
Dusk. Beauty had dressed hastily, and there had been no time for her to confide in Laurent about the strange dream she’d had when she was sleeping in the garden. She sat beside the King now listening as the others spoke. What an extraordinary moment this was for her.
Queen Eleanor’s letter lay before them all, and in a low but insistent voice Prince Alexi spoke of how the wealth of the late queen and all her power were theirs to claim, if only they would retain the famous customs of Bellavalten. Every syllable from his lips brought back warm memories to Beauty, as did the mere sight of his comely face and his dark, entrancing eyes. It was a pleasure to see Alexi clothed and in full possession of the honors bestowed on him by his birth and heritage. But what were these, she thought, compared to the gift he’d possessed as a naked slave who’d once taken her in his arms in secret?
The presence of all these strange guests filled Beauty with a faint and pleasurable confusion. Captain Gordon, commander of the Queen’s Guard, was as alluring as she remembered—his blond hair flecked only here and there with silver, and his quick blue eyes filled with a quiet good humor. How many times had she coupled with him? She couldn’t remember. And how many times had he whipped her with delicious precision? She could not remember that either. But it seemed her heart remembered for she could feel it racing.
As for Prince Alexi, who continued to speak, she had never for a second forgotten their one night of stolen pleasure in the closets of the sleeping Queen Eleanor. How she’d melted in his arms, charmed by his soft voice, and silken skin. She could scarcely suppress a faint smile as she studied him, studied his dark reddish hair, and his compact yet strong frame. Yes, he was richly attired, as were they all, but she saw him naked as she had long ago, the respectful and secretive slave of the late queen who seemed to enjoy his subjugation and his secret disobedience completely.
Laurent spoke, interrupting her reverie. As always, her beloved husband had an easy and agreeable air of command.
“And you, Lady Eva,” Laurent asked, addressing the exquisite young woman who sat at his left, “have been in full command of the slaves for the last year?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the woman answered, lowering her gaze deferentially, “but should you accept the crown, I am willing, as are all here, to bend to your will entirely—and to the will of your queen.” She glanced at Beauty in the same shy manner.
And no doubt she has been very effective, Beauty thought, and all the more on account of her young age. Lady Eva had full wavy red hair and remarkably clear skin and a well-modeled face with rather luscious pink lips. Her breasts were large and well shaped beneath the silk of her simple gown, and her hands as she gestured were beguilingly graceful. No wonder Laurent was drinking her in with his eyes so boldly. Beauty smiled. Laurent was struggling with all his might not to stare shamelessly at Lady Eva’s breasts.
“We place our greatest hope in you,” the lady said. “And the royal family is entirely behind us.”
Tristan, blond and beautiful Tristan, whom Beauty had so loved, was looking at her from across the table. And when Beauty looked at him now, he smiled without hesitation. There came to her a vivid flash of their time together, naked, their hands bound, in the crude cart that was taking rebellious slaves away from the castle and to hard servitude in the village. How it stirred her blood to remember those moments in which they’d managed to express their love while jostled and tormented among the small gaggle of prisoners! And then there had been that other time, that unworldly time, when, made the playthings of the Sultan’s men, they had been pressed together to make love, their skin burnished with gold, and their lips and limbs hungering for each other.
Beauty felt a keen excitement she could not deny, and a little impatience that the same points were being circled again and again by those gathered at the table.
She lifted her hand for silence but didn’t wait for Laurent to give her permission to speak.
“I understand the wishes of the late queen,” Beauty said, her eyes fixing on Lady Eva who was the obvious leader of the party. “This is all completely clear. And I understand what you’ve said about Queen Eleanor and her son tiring of the old games, the old rules, yet not wanting to abolish them. And of course, if my lord, the King, accepts to rule Bellavalten we would do it to uphold the ways of pleasure servitude. But surely all of you must realize that we would undoubtedly bring our own refinements to the customs of the past. We would seek to make improvements.”
Silence. Then it was Laurent who responded.
“Yes, surely that would be the case,” he said as if he hadn’t thought of it. He was trying not to smile as he glanced at Beauty and then back to the others. “After all, we would be your sovereigns, and having been slaves ourselves, we may advocate subtle changes with considerable enthusiasm.”
“Oh, yes, this would be most welcome,” Lady Eva responded. She looked directly at Beauty as she spoke. No fear in her whatsoever, Beauty noted. “But these would be improvements to what has always been so essential to our way of life, would they not?”
“Yes, Lady Eva,” Beauty replied. “Improvements to what we all hold dear. Exactly.” She looked from Lady Eva to Alexi. “It was my strong feeling years ago that the Queen did not fully understand her slaves, and that at times her slaves played games with her of which she was never aware.”
Laurent laughed softly under his breath. Captain Gordon appeared shocked, and Lady Elvera, the most distant of all those in attendance, cold Lady Elvera who had once been Laurent’s hard mistress at the castle, remained absolutely impassive.
An awkward pause, yes, and then Alexi spoke. “That’s true,” he said, looking from Laurent to Beauty. “That is very true. The Queen did not understand fully the personalities or the needs of her slaves, and she was often caught unawares by their conniving.”
Lady Elvera looked away as if this were contemptible. Well, so be it, thought Beauty, but it is true.
“Precisely,” said Laurent with his easy self-confidence. “We slaves who rebelled did so because we wanted to be sent to the village.” He looked pointedly at Lady Elvera, but she did not respond to this. “And our mistresses and masters didn’t seem willing to acknowledge that this was the case, as they refused to acknowledge so much else.”
At last, a faint smile played on Lady Elvera’s lips. And slowly she turned her frigid gaze on the King.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said under her breath. “There were many things the Queen never understood. And old Lord Gregory—a gentleman who was old already when he was young—never fully understood the tricks played by sla
ves upon their betters either. And yes, my queen, I think I understand your meaning, when you speak of refinements, improvements. And both words suggest you are in tune with the spirit of the old ways perfectly.”
The Captain of the Guard couldn’t suppress a short muffled laugh.
“You have something to say, Captain?” asked Beauty. She was enjoying this more and more by the minute. “Speak up.”
“Your Majesty,” Captain Gordon replied. “We want with all our hearts for you to assume control of the kingdom. Of course you will inaugurate new rules. You will be our king and queen. No one knows better than . . .”
“Yes, Captain?” Beauty prompted. “No one knows better than we?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. “No one knows better than you and King Laurent how vital the customs are and what can and cannot be done to improve them.”
“Let me be blunt,” said Lady Eva, who was clearly the bravest of the lot. “If Your Majesties do not accept the rule of the kingdom, the kingdom will perish. There will be no more pleasure slavery. And the land will be carved up by the kingdom’s neighbors. We are more than willing to accept your complete authority! And as these letters show, so is the royal family.”
All agreed to this, it was clear.
Tristan, who had been quiet all the while, spoke up. “Of course you will bring your own ideas to Bellavalten,” he said with the air of one who had once been a king himself. “Fresh ideas, innovations, expansions of the old customs, what could be more welcome? This is precisely what the late queen hoped for. She’d lost all interest. She would have given you the kingdom herself while she was living if you had ever come to visit, because she knew that she and her son had nothing further to give to the realm. The kingdom has suffered for many years from her indifference. You’d be appalled if you knew. You knew it in its greatest time. It’s been in a slow but steady decline for over a decade.”
The others nodded to this.
Tristan went on. “We’re eager for a new wind! What we ask is what all loyal subjects ask: that you rule with discretion and full resolution.”
“Yes, precisely,” said Prince Alexi in a more muted voice. “Discretion and resolution. But you know what it is we want to preserve here. You know! You know why we’ve come all this way. You know what our hopes are!”
Again all were nodding and murmuring in assent.
There it was again, thought Beauty, Tristan speaking for those who must serve as to the paramount importance of masters being masters, and Prince Alexi showing the old subtlety. How well she remembered Tristan’s old story, of how he’d rebelled against the diffident Lord Stefan because Lord Stefan could not master him, and in the village Tristan had found the harsh punishments by Nicholas the Queen’s Chronicler very much to his liking. He’d loved the sternness of Captain Gordon as well. And so had her beloved Laurent.
“Well, now, my lord,” Beauty said, turning to Laurent. “Let us perhaps discuss this in the privacy of our quarters so as not to keep our honored guests in suspense any longer than necessary.”
Laurent gave her the most confidential and amused look. But he rose at once, and all the others rose as well.
“Yes, my dear guests,” Laurent said. “My queen and I will have an answer for you tomorrow, I promise you. Until then, please do enjoy whatever comforts we can offer you. But I ask that all of you remain ready to be summoned again by us at any time, singly or together, as we might require this for further discussion. We will not retire until quite late. And again, I assure you, we will have an answer one way or another tomorrow.”
Within minutes, they were alone together behind their bedroom door, the vast chamber warmer than the great hall, and empty of all courtiers or servants.
Laurent at once took Beauty in his arms. She could see and feel that he was feverish with passion, his kisses bruising her lips as they hadn’t for some time. It took all her will to hold him off, her own blood heated as it was.
“Ah, but wait, Your Majesty,” said Beauty, stepping back, trying not to be entranced by the impish smile on his lips. “You are passionate, of course, your usual vigorous self, I understand that. Seeing your old lovers has done its work with you, Laurent.”
“Is that so surprising, and what about you?” Laurent said in a low voice, and immediately he kissed her again and again, his lips sucking the breath out of her, his powerful fingers closing on the back of her head, yet she pulled away, pulled away from him and from what she herself wanted to do with him, and she laid a hand firmly on his chest, though he towered over her.
“Yes, what about me, my lord, the very question,” she responded, looking up into his playful dark eyes reprovingly.
“Well, what do you think?” asked Laurent. “Surely you’re going to give me a quarter of an hour now in that bed before any intelligent discussion can take place! And to rule Bellavalten! Don’t tell me you don’t want it. I know you. I was watching you in the great hall. I know you in a way they can’t know you. You want this, Beauty. Now, must I squeeze it out of you!”
“I want it and I know you want it,” she said. “And I wish I had time to tell you of the strange dreams I’ve had of late, oh, I really do. Such dreams—that something like this was in the offing, so you would realize completely what this will mean for you and for me, for us as king and queen. But there isn’t time for all that. However . . .”
“Dreams,” murmured Laurent. “You talk of dreams.”
“Yes, but I am pressing another point here if you will only listen.”
Laurent stood quiet looking down at her. But the smile hadn’t left his lips, and his brown eyes narrowed as if he were going to laugh again.
“Your Majesty, pay heed to what I’m saying,” said Beauty firmly. “In all these years, I have belonged to you entirely and exclusively.”
“Ah.”
Beauty studied his face carefully. “I have never asked you what you did in foreign lands,” she said gently, “or at sea, or after this or that battle, or even now and then in the bedchambers of our own kingdom. You are the King, yes, and kings will have their way as subjects well know, including that subject of the King who is the Queen. But don’t you see? If we rule Bellavalten, then I must have the very same prerogatives that you have always had. Laurent, that is the way of Bellavalten, that a woman may have what a man has, and men and women must serve men and women.”
Laurent stood silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
“I know,” said Laurent softly. A bit of color flared in his cheeks. “Yes, how well I remember.”
“And so if we take this step,” Beauty said, “we take it together, and I shall rule beside you with all the prerogatives that you enjoy.”
Laurent hesitated. Then he smiled again. “I realize this, Beauty,” he said. “You will have your slaves, your days and nights of pleasure with them as freely as I will have mine, your days and nights of pleasure perhaps with those who are no longer slaves . . .” It appeared to be sinking in.
“Precisely,” she said. “And this is all the more reason why we must reaffirm our vows to each other.”
“Yes.”
“I will be the only queen of your heart, and you the only king of mine, but the pleasures of the kingdom will be enjoyed by both of us.”
Again, there came that cautious pause, but then Laurent smiled and nodded. The mockery and mischief were gone. A dreamy expression softened his face, an expression of love.
“Oh, yes, Beauty,” he said. He moved towards her and pressed her close again but this time without urgency and with respect, and gently, he kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. “Yes, you are so very right, Beauty. You are often right. And you are right in this now. And this must be the way; it can be no other way.”
Once again she stepped back.
“Do you think I don’t respect you?” Laurent protested. “That I don’t respect that you took
the lead with your suggestions in the hall below? I was so pleased to see it, pleased to see you wanted this, and were already thinking of how it must be. I wasn’t merely pleased. I was overjoyed, overjoyed that you remembered the pleasures of our youth, that your mind hadn’t rewritten the story of what we knew in Bellavalten together.”
“Yes, I know. I knew you were pleased, and of course I might have fallen silent if you hadn’t been pleased. But stop thinking about getting into that bed over there just now and let’s continue to talk of all this.”
“Beauty, I had a dream before the visitors arrived, just before . . .” He moved away for the first time, turning his back to her, and then he faced her again. In a low halting voice he told of the strange woman who appeared to him. “I didn’t know whether I was dreaming or awake. It seemed as real as this room is real now. I was lying there on that bed, and quite suddenly, I wasn’t, but I tell you she was as real as these walls, or that bed. And the woman said things, said things that I must—”
“You needn’t go on,” Beauty interrupted. “I had the very same dream, my lord. And I know who the woman was. I know her name. I knew it when I was but a girl and my father and mother told me of her. She is Titania of Mataquin, one of the great immortal wise women or fairies to visit the celebration of my birth. I didn’t believe a word my parents spoke on the subject of fairies coming to bestow their blessings. I was like so many children, certain such things as fairies or wise women did not exist. But when I awoke from my hundred years of sleep to the Crown Prince’s kiss, I believed everything, and I had known the fairy queen, Titania, in my dreams—yet in such vague ways I could confide this to no one. Well, she has come again to me and she says that this is our destiny.”